"There, dear. Easy. Just sit up and take a few sips."
Madam Pomfrey cradled Severus Snape's head and held the potion-filled vial for him to drink. He did so, and she laid him back down upon the pillows again.
"You'll be all right, Severus," she said, running a wand over the boy's thin body. "You're just a little shook up and addled and frightened. Right?"
"Right as rain," Severus returned. He fingered his split lip. It seemed better already.
"I'll be back in a few moments. I know the Headmaster wanted to know when you woke up so he could see you – "
"I don't want to see him. Tell him."
Poppy's mouth fell open. How many times over the years had she witnessed the kindly bond that existed between the Gryffindor headmaster and the Slytherin student? Severus should be looking forward to Dumbledore's visit, instead of refusing to see him!
"Well – "
"I mean it. I don't want to lay eyes on him."
"Is it because of – "
"Yes. Because of Asenath and me and the way people acted like it was such a big freaking deal. People make love all the time! Maybe it was because somebody as nasty and evil as me shouldn't ever get the chance to have a girlfriend! I don't want to see him! You tell him!"
Poppy sighed. She also knew that when the Slytherin had made up his mind, his resistance to her suggestions was adamantine.
"Very well. I'll tell him. But don't be surprised if he calls you to his office when you recover. I understand that he's been talking to that group of Gryffindor boys who'd always gotten into fights with you."
Good.
As it should be.
Sev smiled what he hoped was a chilling smile. "Ah yes. The Maraudiots, of course. I understand. By the time the clock strikes noon tomorrow, at least a couple of curs in that pack of dogs should be expelled from Hogwarts."
Poppy's jaw dropped. "Do you really think so? Merciful heavens!"
"They tried to kill me," Sev returned. "They'd only hurt me before. Think on it a minute, Madam Pomfrey. There were only two possible outcomes tonight. Bitten and life as a werewolf – or stone cold dead."
Of course, Severus knew better. Albus would play the fool and Albus would favor the Marauders. By so doing, he would ostensibly earn the eternal hatred of one skinny, maladjusted, and traumatized Dark brat.
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After a decent night's sleep in the Hospital Wing, Severus Snape returned to Slytherin Tower. Predictably, Professor Penderdandis had told him to report to the Headmaster's office right away.
Severus sighed deeply. He wasn't the best actor in the world for nothing. He knew that both he and Albus would play their parts to perfection. It was a sad thing, though. Losing his mother, losing Martis; losing James and Lily and then Asenath.
Poor Severus had experienced so much loss in his short life that each subsequent disappointment healed over quickly. However – in spite of their smooth appearance – his hidden psychic wounds remained raw and unwholesome just underneath the skin.
It was upon such unholy food that Voldemort would feast, because the Dark Lord located weakness in a Death Eater like a Dementor rooted out good memories. At least a Dementor would go after your bad memories after that and get rid of some of them. There was no such luck with Voldemort, who would just keep breaking down mental walls until all that was left of a man or woman was the husk.
But stay in today, Snape, he reminded himself. Stay in today.
He knocked on the Headmaster's warded entrance and was soon ushered in behind its locked and magicked doors.
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Severus paused, then looked around.
Sirius Black.
Check.
James Potter.
Check.
Peter Pettigrew.
Check.
Remus Lupin.
Check.
The boy's eyes met Dumbledore's, and locked on. "You wished to see me, sir?"
It was obvious that the five of them had been discussing Gryffindor's chances at the House Cup, or Gryffindor's chances at the Quidditch championship, or Gryffindor's chances at the bloody freaking quilting bee. It was all the same to him.
Albus wore an expression of impartial concern. "Yes, Severus. Why don't you take a seat? I want to find out what happened on – "
"Why are they still here, Headmaster?" Snape hissed in a nearly subaural tone, ignoring the invitation to sit.
"Excuse me?" Dumbledore replied, cocking his head a bit toward Severus. As if the Greatest White Wizard in the World was hard-of-hearing!
"I said – why – are – they – still – here at Hogwarts, sir? They tried to kill me last night. Why haven't you expelled the lot?"
"Surely you jest, Mr. Snape," the Headmaster replied, his tone icy.
"I do not, Headmaster Dumbledore. Sirius Black plotted to have me out of the way effective last night. He told me exactly what to do to freeze the Whomping Willow so I could see exactly what happened to Remus Lupin when the moon was full. He knew he was sending me toward either a cursed life as a werewolf or to an early grave. Surely they don't deny that!"
"Now, wait a minute, Severus," Albus said, wagging his finger at the black-haired youth. "Mr. Black insists that it was only a joke, and that there was no real chance you would actually continue down the tunnel and into harm's way."
"And you believed him?" Severus cried. "He is a liar born, and he will die a liar, though not on account of me. What you call harmless jokes or pranks have cost me my peace of mind here at Hogwarts. Sing the House cheer, raise the butterbeer, and kick the greasy git in the guts a couple hundred times! All in good fun!" Snape clenched his fists. "Good gods, Headmaster! And you were gullible enough to believe him, after he's persecuted me for seven long years?" Severus was red in the face and his fingernails dug little crescents into the palms of his hands.
"I think you're making much ado about nothing, Severus. Mr. Lupin and Mr. Pettigrew have told me they didn't know about the prank," Albus began.
"Prank? Please! Attempted assassination, sir!" Snape shouted. "You stand corrected!"
At this, the Marauders began to uneasily look at each other, not sure what was transpiring between Severus and Dumbledore.
Albus made a show of ignoring the remark. "Mr. Potter has told me that he only learned of the joke after you'd entered the tunnel, and that he managed to convince you to turn back just in the nick of time."
"James Bloody Potter," Severus snarled. James looked at him, hurt and surprise evident on his face. "Always the Holy Saint James, isn't he? He's always managed to keep his nose clean, hasn't he, sir? He saved the Slytherin prat from a terrible death, or an even more terrible life -- I don't know which would have been worse -- just – to – make – himself – look good!"
James stood. "Sev, that isn't fair!"
"Life isn't fair, Potter," Severus returned coolly, his eyes like chips of anthracite coal. "Some boys get fathers who play Quidditch with them and other boys get fathers who torture them half to death before they reach the age of reason. Oh well! "
Young Snape's mouth twisted cruelly.
"Some boys have fathers who teach them about goodness and courage and honor. Other boys have fathers who sell them body and soul to a monster. Too bad!"
"Severus, that is enough," Albus said to Snape, his voice dead calm.
Snape sneered, ignoring him. "Some boys end up handsome and blessed with good health and good friends, and others end up looking like they'd been dragged up out of some filthy cellar with half their nervous system misfiring because their old man had cursed them one too many times! What a bloody shame it is! "
"That is enough, Mr. Snape!" Albus warned.
"Such is life, Potter. Black puts me in peril and you whisk me out of it. Grand! Noble! The Dark brat should be kissing his feet in thanks! But he doesn't because he knows deep in his foul heart that for once, the Marauders will finally pay for what they have done to him!"
Sev spun around to face Dumbledore. He pointed a finger at Black, and then waved his open hand at the others.
"SIR -- I – WANT – THEM – GONE!"
"That is out of the question, Mr. Snape," Dumbledore replied. "No permanent damage was done to you. Although one boy put you in harm's way, I believe him when he tells me that he would have come to fetch you in time if James had not."
"Then you're a fool, Albus Dumbledore," Snape shrieked. His entire body shook and his teeth were bared.
The Headmaster, his face red and his jaw set, stood so abruptly that the little table that sat before him was overturned, sending hot tea and pieces of lemon chiffon bar all over the rug. "How dare you, Mr. Snape. How dare you! I will not have you speak like that to me!" Albus turned quickly and looked at the Marauders. "Sirius Black. Twenty points from Gryffindor."
"TWENTY POINTS?" Snape screamed, his palms now running red.
"Peter Pettigrew. Ten points for not reporting it to your Head of House. Remus Lupin, you did not seek to endanger Mr. Snape in the first place so you will have no punishment. Mr. Potter. Forty points for helping Mr. Snape out of the tunnel."
"HELPING ME OUT OF THE BLOODY TUNNEL? DEAR GODS!"
Severus yelped, eyes watering and face beet red. His tortured hands dappled briefly at his face, leaving his cheeks spotted with fresh blood.
"And twenty points from Slytherin House, Mr. Snape, for your insubordination and rudeness not only to these boys, but to me as well."
Severus was weeping now; flat-out weeping even though Pettigrew and Black stood snickering at him. "DISMISSED, HEADMASTER?" the boy cried. "AM I TO UNDERSTAND THAT GRYFFINDOR HOUSE WILL END UP TEN POINTS TO THE GOOD WHILE SLYTHERIN HAS BEEN PENALIZED BY TWENTY, WHEN IT WAS ME WHO NEARLY DIED?"
The wizard raised his chin and looked round. "You are all dismissed."
Anguish and betrayal fuming from his psychic aura like coils of tendriled envy, Severus grabbed at an ornamental vase and threw it over Dumbledore's head where it burst into a hundred fragments. The Marauders cried out in surprise and anger.
"Go ahead, old man," Severus Snape wept, face streaked with tears and blood. "Go ahead and turn your back on me! Why did you bother to save me from ending my days in the Forbidden Forest and Slytherin Tower? Why bother to save my soul from evil when you have ripped it to shreds instead?"
The boy had bitten down on his injured lip, inadvertently reopening the wound. The Marauders scarcely breathed, so great was their dread. Dumbledore said nothing.
"Damn you all!" Severus cried in the extremity of his hopelessness and grief. "Damn you and every Gryffindor living and dead to the worst torments of Hell! You – will – all – pay dearly for this outrage!"
With a terrible cry, the Slytherin boy raced out the door and down the circular stairs, terrible oaths pouring from his lips along with his heart's blood.
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