Please have all readers note that there is much profanity use in this chapter.

(These types of chapters make me glad I chose pg-13, so be warned…)

A/N: the next book is coming out July 16 and I WILL BE IN COSTUME!

SQUEE!

This chapter is really angst-y, but don't worry, I'm not mentally ill. This is just how I imagined Severus' mentality.

Chapter Five: Severus' Soliloquy

It's so cold he thought to himself as his bare feet touch the cool wooden floor. He could smell the stench of cigarettes again. It was two o'clock in the morning after Ron had left. Harry creaked down the steps cautiously, sensing the movement in the other room.

He wished to call out to Snape. He wanted to know if he was there… but he stood pondering over the black railing wondering what he should say. He certainly couldn't call him "Severus", since he didn't even call him "Harry" at all. He couldn't call him "Snape" because he considered it rude. He couldn't call him "Professor" since they weren't at Hogwarts. And he just wouldn't call him "sir" because he didn't have that much respect for him. So he settled for a simple, "Hey!"

Snape looked up from the ashtray in the dark, staring at him with a scolding expression. "Why are you roaming the halls now, Potter, it's…"

"What are you going to do? Take fifty points from Gryfindor? I'm in my own bloody house!"

Since the only light was from the cigarette's tip, he could only see a ghost of a smirk on Snape's face. He asked, this time, softer, "What are you doing up?"

Harry continued his journey down the cold stairwell before whispering nonchalantly, "I couldn't sleep, how about you?"

"I never sleep," he stated.

"How about some hot chocolate?"

"You remind me so much of the Headmaster, it's sickening…"

"Does that mean yes?"

"Sure."

He got out the mugs and the coco packets, noticed that they didn't have any marshmallows, and disappointedly reach for the fluff, all without noticing that Snape was licking the tip of a Vodka bottle, which was empty. He boiled the water with his back turned. It wasn't until Harry handed him the steaming cup that he noticed he was crying.

"P-professor? Are you alright?" asked Harry, spilling chocolate on the floor.

He rubbed his eyes, and grit his teeth, "It's alright, Harry. I'm bloody, fucking fantastic…"

It was then he caught sight of the empty bottle.

"Snape? You didn't just… I mean… you're drunk?"

"Yes, Harry. Your grandfather was a drunk, and now I'm a drunk. Ten fucking points to Gryfindor."

"Wait… I…."

"Yes, Harry, don't you feel bad now? That I didn't have a family? That your father beat me up? That your mother hated me? That I have no friends and no place to go? Makes you feel sad now doesn't it? Well, fuck you, because I don't want your pity, and I don't want your help and I don't want your hot chocolate."

The room was silent.

"Ok, maybe I want your hot chocolate..."he said before guzzling it down. Harry studied him. On the outside, Snape didn't appear to be drunk. He wasn't stuttering at all, his eyes weren't bloodshot, yet he seemed to be an emotional wreck.

"I'm sorry I'm so fucked up. It's not really your fault." He swallowed another gulp, "It wasn't Sirius' fault either."

Harry's eyes grew wide, "What?"

"He picked on me, you know. He really almost killed me. All I wanted was a little revenge. Is that so wrong? I never wanted to kill him. He wanted so much to get out of this house. I was a perfect plan. He would get his adventure, and I would get my revenge. It would have worked out perfectly, you see." He set his mug down, "But no. Severus Snape's life never works out like he wants. His bad luck always fucks things up. SIRIUS BLACK HAD TO GO AND FUCKING DIE!"

With that, he threw the empty Vodka bottle at the wall, smashing it to oblivion. Harry crouched to the corner of the room, curled away from the glass, shaking. "WHY, Harry? Why does nothing ever work out like it should? HE WASN'T SUPPOSED TO DIE! But, he did and it's my fault, and I'm sorry… I'm sorry I treat you like dirt. I really just thought you were a brat. I didn't know you were just a good kid, who had gone through even more troubles than I have. I'm fucking sorry." Tears were streaming down Harry's face… he remained in a lump on the kitchen floor. Snape stumbled over to him. "It's alright if you hate me, I don't blame you at all… I hate me too. The whole school can hate me. We can have an I- hate-Severus-fan club and everyone will join…"

"I don't hate you…" Harry whispered from the confines of his pajama's.

"You're a sweet kid, but you don't know me that well. I have some skeletons in my closet. I've seen things, Harry, that you would never dream, and done things for the dark lord's sake. I've killed people, Harry, and not with a wand… I'm a monster… I'm a freak… I have no power but to kill. I was going to kill myself tonight. I've been thinking about it for along time," His voice was deadly calm. He didn't even smell of liquor anymore. "Then, you came down here and offered me hot chocolate… why would you offer comfort to a monster? I don't want compassion, I just want to die!"

Harry's voice answered hoarsely, "No…live…"

"Shut up! I don't have to listen to you!" Snape brandished his wand, pointing it at Harry's throat.

A swift rush of a rag-like cloak, and a voice ringing, "EXPELIAMUS!(sp?)" left Snape without words.

"That's enough!" Remus' voice echoed harshly, "C'mon Harry…"

"Fucking werewolf!"

"THAT'S ENOUGH!" He shouted, taking Harry into his arms, and running with him up the stairs. He whispered strictly into his ear, "You're leaving tomorrow to your aunt and uncle's, no excuses."