Chapter 6 - Snape the Discontented.
Wow! I'm back! I'm sorry I've been so long! It's just been first of all my holiday, so I couldn't write then, and then block, as well as three other stories I'm trying to keep going. Oh well, I'm back now. Thanks everyone who's reviewed and given opinions before now. It's just like to say that they are very much appreciated.
********
"It's me and my wife of course!" Barked Sev, half-heartedly, "who did you think it was?"
"I didn't know you got married, " said Snape, caught off his guard, "I thought you were single, like me..."
"Hm." Sev grunted, looking at the picture himself.
"Who's the boy?"
"He's Imy/I son." Such emphasis was put on the world Imy/I, it seemed as if he didn't want Snape to try and take him away.
"What did you call him, I hope you didn't give him a stupid name..."
"We called him Michael." Said Sev, a little in a dream state himself.
"I expected you to call him something like Sylvester, or Sam. It's been a Family tradition for..."
"It's a name that suits him, so why should it have to be something like that?" asked Sev, "Yes, we've had some times together..."
"You and Rya, fun together eh?" scoffed Snape.
"She's dead." Said Sev coldly, "Voldermort kill her, trying to save her son. Our son."
"Is he still..."
"Yes. He's at Hogwarts now, doing his NEWTs. Got top grade OWLs, of course, he worked hard for them as well. Determined. He must be the only child in the whole world who you couldn't pull away from a book on Christmas day." He mused, a smile lighting up his face.
"So he turned out a Snape then." Said Snape, almost proud of his own son.
"Mostly, yeah." Said Sev, his anger fully diffused, "he's got the knack for potions, and transfiguration, but I think that has something to do with his mother rather than me." Sev turned around, and putting the picture back on the bed slowly.
"How sentimental." Said Snape, his voice like ice.
"Yes, I am sentimental, but I've got something to be sentimental about." Said Sev, adding because he felt particularly cruel, "unlike you."
Snape couldn't think of a comeback for that one, so he simply stood up, gave Sev a haughty stare, and grabbing the book he'd out on the side, stamped off to his office, hiding his slowly reddening face. As he slammed the door to his office, all Snape was able to think was, II'm not Jealous, I'm not Jealous. The other me, he's just a weak, stupid man, I'm glad I didn't turn out like him. I'm glad I don't have a family, any of the responsibility of a son, I'm glad I never cared about anyone dying, I'm glad I've never put myself in a position where I'd be weak.../I But even as he did so, he knew he was lying. He was as Jealous as hell. He slammed the book on the table, and picked up a quill and started marking again.
Two out of ten, three out of ten, seven out of ten. His mind was buzzing with thoughts other than potions. How the hell did the other version of himself end up as an Auror, trusted assistant to the Ministry and a family, well, a family of sorts, and he end up with this? A Job teaching ignoramuses and spoilt brats how to make potions, hated by the Ministry and no one who gave a damn whether he was alive? He often mused, in the darker hours of the night, that if he were to suddenly have an accident that left him dead, well, no one would care. But He often cheered himself up with the thought that if anyone else died, he wouldn't have to care either.
Eight, no, make that seven and a half out of ten.
He wasn't jealous, he told himself, there is no way he could care about what his other self got up to. It was just a case of waiting for Dumbledore to sort him out, and then things would go back to normal. No Rya, no weird worlds, unless you count the one that you live in, and definitely no copies of himself. It would go back to being alone. Just alone again.
Five out of ten.
He wondered what his double could be up to, but he scoffed to himself; He'd probably be reading or something like that. Or, he thought mockingly, pining over his dead wife. Snape laughed to himself. Idiot. It's been, well a long time since she died. It shows you what weakness brings.
Four out of ten.
People trusted the other Snape, that meant he had to do things for them, he had to be *nice*. Snape rarely had to be nice to people, he could a complete bastard and get away with it, and why? Because they knew that he wasn't pleasant. It was one of the lies people tell themselves. No one is a nice, pleasant or even decent human being. It's just he didn't have to pretend he was to other people. He was an idiot, letting people think he was a good person, if you let people do that, well you might as well just ask them to walk on you.
Three out of ten.
And what was all that about being Sentimental? It was one step away from being a bloody bohemian. People who're sentimental are the worst. They expect other people to care about people *worse* off then themselves, which is not only impractical, but, well, stupid and romantic. Sentimentalists like that go on about foolish things like *love* we're all supposed of have for everyone. People don't love. They're cold, looking out for themselves, and this approach to life had served him well.
Two out of ten.
He couldn't be Jealous of that. Snape had a life, relatively few responsibilities, a steady income and somewhere that was quiet. You don't get that if you have to share your life with Children or anything. You can't have the things you like, you can't go out at night to hunt ingredients of potions, you always have to put them first. Snape didn't know why. When he was a child, he had to do what his parents said, or he would simply be punished, none of that choice or whatever the new fads are. He grew up fine, doing what his parents wanted. He didn't actually see much of his parents, especially after Mother had hung herself, but he grew up a normal child, just doing what he was told by servants and learning how to keep quiet, and not complain.
One out of ten. These pupils seemed to get worse every year. No, he was perfectly content on his own, as he had always been, living apart from people, not getting tricked into doing what people wanted, except Dumbledore. He was a happy, content man who had everything he wanted.
So why did his mind weigh in his head, and his throat ache like he was about to cough up a stone. He coughed a few times; feeling a few drops of water hit his face. He would have to dust here more often, and where did that water come from? He would have to check that ceiling later, but right now he had to finish marking. But he couldn't. The papers were blurring in front of his eyes, and he had to gasp for air.
He wasn't Jealous! A voice inside his head screamed, he couldn't be Jealous! It was the other Snape that was the failure, not him! Not him! He hit himself hard on the face. Stop thinking, go on! You've got papers to mark, homework to set.
But Snape couldn't he just couldn't go on like this. His mind just wasn't on it. He had a pile of paper work to do, work he usually enjoyed in his sadistic manner, but today he just couldn't. He threw down his pen, splattering ink everywhere. He put his head in his hands, and grunted.
*********
It must have been about three in the morning when Snape finally got around to marking the papers. His double had gone to bed long ago, and Snape had calmed him mind down enough to give Hermione Granger an A/E (Bordering between "acceptable and exceeds expectation." If Snape had felt a little fairer, he might have admitted she deserved an E before writing it down, but his mood was fowl to say the least.) To keep himself awake he had put on the radio.
"This is the Witching Wireless, and you're listening to Nick Ferrari on the Muggle music hour." Said the less than cheerful voice on the radio, "and that was 'I hate you so much right now' by Kelise, or whoever she is. What will these crazy Muggles come up with next?" the voice sighed. "Sometimes I really, really hate my job. I mean, I heard the Muggles are so stupid that they can't even run a bus service right. If you can't even get a bus to come on time, how the hell are you supposed to change key right? I mean, err." The man on the radio sighed. "Okay, the next one is from that 'oh-so cheerful' group with the stupid name, Elbow, called Power Blue. Yeah, this is for all you manic-depressives who can't sleep at this hour."
Snape growled. He hated Muggle hour, but slight less than he hated modern witching music. It all seemed so bad these days. No decent music for the last few years. It seemed like all songs these days were decidedly bad. He had nearly finished the marking, and he was quiet glad of it. He felt himself nodding off gradually, his eyes unable to understand the purposely- bad handwriting of the students. He finally ended up writing on one paper, "One out of ten, disgraceful and please write in handwriting that people can understand!"
"Wow. If they get any more cheerful, a funeral might break out." Said the bored voice on the radio, "Elbow, singing about how being dead makes you alive. Great guys, maybe you could stop using paradoxes and get onto actually writing music. Well, our next tune Is Extreme ways by some guy who named himself after a wale, Moby. But why do you care? If you're up this late, I'm sure you feel too comatosed to care. And it's a dance track, no one writes it, they just....well, here it is. Enjoy it music listeners."
Snape couldn't help but growl at the music. It was poorly written and was so... obtuse it made him want to cave his own head in with his pen. Instead of doing this he picked up the last paper. Just a first year paper, it shouldn't take too long. He noticed the name was Ysabelle Todd. He slapped the paper on the table, and started to read.
Question one - what precautions should be taken when adding dogroots to a potion for the prevention of pain.
Snape, you don't know what trouble you're in. They're watching you Snape, and if you're not careful, they're going to get you. You didn't get your double by accident. The Metaphysicist's have a higher calling for you, even if you don't want it. The Dark Lord wants you.....
Snape put the paper down. What the hell was this? He suddenly felt a little frightened in his dark office. He turned up the radio, and went onto the second question.
Question two - What is the correct way to prepare Mentil plant for a potion to help the memory
You can't refuse the Dark Lord on your own, Professor. If you refuse them, they will get you. They will hunt you down like a dog and drag you kicking and screaming to your fate, whether you like it. You can't pretend to not be affected by this, because I know you will be...
Then two words floated up in blood red letter on the paper, bleeding over the others words.
KNOCK, KNOCK, PROFESSOR.
BANG BANG BANG! Snape jumped in his seat and saw his double open the door. "Keep that music down will you!" he exclaimed, "some of us sleep at night." And he stormed out off the room.
Snape didn't bother to go after him and explain how he was right. He looked at the paper again.
Question one - what precautions should be taken when adding dogroots to a potion for the prevention of pain?
One precausion that should be taken is to where Dragon hide gloves and to add it slowly because if you don't it will explode...
He looked all the way down the paper. The paper had changed. It was just the typically badly answers questions the other pupils had given him. He shook his head. It must have been because he was half asleep. He gave the paper a two out of ten, and went to bed, feeling unusually awake.
**********
Notes.
1/ Nick Ferrari is a radio DJ my brother hates. I thought it might amuse those of you who listen to BBC radio.
2/Yes, I know, a Matrix reference. That is so old....(slinks off.)
3/ The misspellings in the homework are intentional. That's how I really spelt before I actually check everything. Oi, oi, oi!
4/ I rather liked the effect of his thoughts being marked like a piece of homework. But I think most people, other than me, would find to pretentiously art house. Oh well.
Thank you for reading. Please have a pleasant day, and don't forget, for every action to don't take another universe springs off your one at a right angle. Make the universe you live in a better one.
Xandra the Blue.
Wow! I'm back! I'm sorry I've been so long! It's just been first of all my holiday, so I couldn't write then, and then block, as well as three other stories I'm trying to keep going. Oh well, I'm back now. Thanks everyone who's reviewed and given opinions before now. It's just like to say that they are very much appreciated.
********
"It's me and my wife of course!" Barked Sev, half-heartedly, "who did you think it was?"
"I didn't know you got married, " said Snape, caught off his guard, "I thought you were single, like me..."
"Hm." Sev grunted, looking at the picture himself.
"Who's the boy?"
"He's Imy/I son." Such emphasis was put on the world Imy/I, it seemed as if he didn't want Snape to try and take him away.
"What did you call him, I hope you didn't give him a stupid name..."
"We called him Michael." Said Sev, a little in a dream state himself.
"I expected you to call him something like Sylvester, or Sam. It's been a Family tradition for..."
"It's a name that suits him, so why should it have to be something like that?" asked Sev, "Yes, we've had some times together..."
"You and Rya, fun together eh?" scoffed Snape.
"She's dead." Said Sev coldly, "Voldermort kill her, trying to save her son. Our son."
"Is he still..."
"Yes. He's at Hogwarts now, doing his NEWTs. Got top grade OWLs, of course, he worked hard for them as well. Determined. He must be the only child in the whole world who you couldn't pull away from a book on Christmas day." He mused, a smile lighting up his face.
"So he turned out a Snape then." Said Snape, almost proud of his own son.
"Mostly, yeah." Said Sev, his anger fully diffused, "he's got the knack for potions, and transfiguration, but I think that has something to do with his mother rather than me." Sev turned around, and putting the picture back on the bed slowly.
"How sentimental." Said Snape, his voice like ice.
"Yes, I am sentimental, but I've got something to be sentimental about." Said Sev, adding because he felt particularly cruel, "unlike you."
Snape couldn't think of a comeback for that one, so he simply stood up, gave Sev a haughty stare, and grabbing the book he'd out on the side, stamped off to his office, hiding his slowly reddening face. As he slammed the door to his office, all Snape was able to think was, II'm not Jealous, I'm not Jealous. The other me, he's just a weak, stupid man, I'm glad I didn't turn out like him. I'm glad I don't have a family, any of the responsibility of a son, I'm glad I never cared about anyone dying, I'm glad I've never put myself in a position where I'd be weak.../I But even as he did so, he knew he was lying. He was as Jealous as hell. He slammed the book on the table, and picked up a quill and started marking again.
Two out of ten, three out of ten, seven out of ten. His mind was buzzing with thoughts other than potions. How the hell did the other version of himself end up as an Auror, trusted assistant to the Ministry and a family, well, a family of sorts, and he end up with this? A Job teaching ignoramuses and spoilt brats how to make potions, hated by the Ministry and no one who gave a damn whether he was alive? He often mused, in the darker hours of the night, that if he were to suddenly have an accident that left him dead, well, no one would care. But He often cheered himself up with the thought that if anyone else died, he wouldn't have to care either.
Eight, no, make that seven and a half out of ten.
He wasn't jealous, he told himself, there is no way he could care about what his other self got up to. It was just a case of waiting for Dumbledore to sort him out, and then things would go back to normal. No Rya, no weird worlds, unless you count the one that you live in, and definitely no copies of himself. It would go back to being alone. Just alone again.
Five out of ten.
He wondered what his double could be up to, but he scoffed to himself; He'd probably be reading or something like that. Or, he thought mockingly, pining over his dead wife. Snape laughed to himself. Idiot. It's been, well a long time since she died. It shows you what weakness brings.
Four out of ten.
People trusted the other Snape, that meant he had to do things for them, he had to be *nice*. Snape rarely had to be nice to people, he could a complete bastard and get away with it, and why? Because they knew that he wasn't pleasant. It was one of the lies people tell themselves. No one is a nice, pleasant or even decent human being. It's just he didn't have to pretend he was to other people. He was an idiot, letting people think he was a good person, if you let people do that, well you might as well just ask them to walk on you.
Three out of ten.
And what was all that about being Sentimental? It was one step away from being a bloody bohemian. People who're sentimental are the worst. They expect other people to care about people *worse* off then themselves, which is not only impractical, but, well, stupid and romantic. Sentimentalists like that go on about foolish things like *love* we're all supposed of have for everyone. People don't love. They're cold, looking out for themselves, and this approach to life had served him well.
Two out of ten.
He couldn't be Jealous of that. Snape had a life, relatively few responsibilities, a steady income and somewhere that was quiet. You don't get that if you have to share your life with Children or anything. You can't have the things you like, you can't go out at night to hunt ingredients of potions, you always have to put them first. Snape didn't know why. When he was a child, he had to do what his parents said, or he would simply be punished, none of that choice or whatever the new fads are. He grew up fine, doing what his parents wanted. He didn't actually see much of his parents, especially after Mother had hung herself, but he grew up a normal child, just doing what he was told by servants and learning how to keep quiet, and not complain.
One out of ten. These pupils seemed to get worse every year. No, he was perfectly content on his own, as he had always been, living apart from people, not getting tricked into doing what people wanted, except Dumbledore. He was a happy, content man who had everything he wanted.
So why did his mind weigh in his head, and his throat ache like he was about to cough up a stone. He coughed a few times; feeling a few drops of water hit his face. He would have to dust here more often, and where did that water come from? He would have to check that ceiling later, but right now he had to finish marking. But he couldn't. The papers were blurring in front of his eyes, and he had to gasp for air.
He wasn't Jealous! A voice inside his head screamed, he couldn't be Jealous! It was the other Snape that was the failure, not him! Not him! He hit himself hard on the face. Stop thinking, go on! You've got papers to mark, homework to set.
But Snape couldn't he just couldn't go on like this. His mind just wasn't on it. He had a pile of paper work to do, work he usually enjoyed in his sadistic manner, but today he just couldn't. He threw down his pen, splattering ink everywhere. He put his head in his hands, and grunted.
*********
It must have been about three in the morning when Snape finally got around to marking the papers. His double had gone to bed long ago, and Snape had calmed him mind down enough to give Hermione Granger an A/E (Bordering between "acceptable and exceeds expectation." If Snape had felt a little fairer, he might have admitted she deserved an E before writing it down, but his mood was fowl to say the least.) To keep himself awake he had put on the radio.
"This is the Witching Wireless, and you're listening to Nick Ferrari on the Muggle music hour." Said the less than cheerful voice on the radio, "and that was 'I hate you so much right now' by Kelise, or whoever she is. What will these crazy Muggles come up with next?" the voice sighed. "Sometimes I really, really hate my job. I mean, I heard the Muggles are so stupid that they can't even run a bus service right. If you can't even get a bus to come on time, how the hell are you supposed to change key right? I mean, err." The man on the radio sighed. "Okay, the next one is from that 'oh-so cheerful' group with the stupid name, Elbow, called Power Blue. Yeah, this is for all you manic-depressives who can't sleep at this hour."
Snape growled. He hated Muggle hour, but slight less than he hated modern witching music. It all seemed so bad these days. No decent music for the last few years. It seemed like all songs these days were decidedly bad. He had nearly finished the marking, and he was quiet glad of it. He felt himself nodding off gradually, his eyes unable to understand the purposely- bad handwriting of the students. He finally ended up writing on one paper, "One out of ten, disgraceful and please write in handwriting that people can understand!"
"Wow. If they get any more cheerful, a funeral might break out." Said the bored voice on the radio, "Elbow, singing about how being dead makes you alive. Great guys, maybe you could stop using paradoxes and get onto actually writing music. Well, our next tune Is Extreme ways by some guy who named himself after a wale, Moby. But why do you care? If you're up this late, I'm sure you feel too comatosed to care. And it's a dance track, no one writes it, they just....well, here it is. Enjoy it music listeners."
Snape couldn't help but growl at the music. It was poorly written and was so... obtuse it made him want to cave his own head in with his pen. Instead of doing this he picked up the last paper. Just a first year paper, it shouldn't take too long. He noticed the name was Ysabelle Todd. He slapped the paper on the table, and started to read.
Question one - what precautions should be taken when adding dogroots to a potion for the prevention of pain.
Snape, you don't know what trouble you're in. They're watching you Snape, and if you're not careful, they're going to get you. You didn't get your double by accident. The Metaphysicist's have a higher calling for you, even if you don't want it. The Dark Lord wants you.....
Snape put the paper down. What the hell was this? He suddenly felt a little frightened in his dark office. He turned up the radio, and went onto the second question.
Question two - What is the correct way to prepare Mentil plant for a potion to help the memory
You can't refuse the Dark Lord on your own, Professor. If you refuse them, they will get you. They will hunt you down like a dog and drag you kicking and screaming to your fate, whether you like it. You can't pretend to not be affected by this, because I know you will be...
Then two words floated up in blood red letter on the paper, bleeding over the others words.
KNOCK, KNOCK, PROFESSOR.
BANG BANG BANG! Snape jumped in his seat and saw his double open the door. "Keep that music down will you!" he exclaimed, "some of us sleep at night." And he stormed out off the room.
Snape didn't bother to go after him and explain how he was right. He looked at the paper again.
Question one - what precautions should be taken when adding dogroots to a potion for the prevention of pain?
One precausion that should be taken is to where Dragon hide gloves and to add it slowly because if you don't it will explode...
He looked all the way down the paper. The paper had changed. It was just the typically badly answers questions the other pupils had given him. He shook his head. It must have been because he was half asleep. He gave the paper a two out of ten, and went to bed, feeling unusually awake.
**********
Notes.
1/ Nick Ferrari is a radio DJ my brother hates. I thought it might amuse those of you who listen to BBC radio.
2/Yes, I know, a Matrix reference. That is so old....(slinks off.)
3/ The misspellings in the homework are intentional. That's how I really spelt before I actually check everything. Oi, oi, oi!
4/ I rather liked the effect of his thoughts being marked like a piece of homework. But I think most people, other than me, would find to pretentiously art house. Oh well.
Thank you for reading. Please have a pleasant day, and don't forget, for every action to don't take another universe springs off your one at a right angle. Make the universe you live in a better one.
Xandra the Blue.