Disclaimer: See previous chapters. I'm lazy.
Chapter Three: Inside the twistedness of Snape.
A/N: you can all thank my teachers for boring me senseless through the first week of classes for this story. Enjoy!
Severus Snape smiled. When Severus smiled most people – out of pure survival instincts – ran as fast as they could in the opposite direction and then hid themselves in the deepest, dankest hole of the Earth until whatever holocaust had struck the world has passed. Albus Dumbledore, however, was not most people.
"Are you sure you would not like some tea, dear boy?" Of course Severus would take his tea. Then he would shove it down Albus's throat and strangle the infuriating old coot with his own beard.
"No, Headmaster," he bit out through grounded teeth. "I would not care for tea. Perhaps you could explain why you have called me here. I have a class in five minutes." Not that Severus would care in the slightest if his class – the whole student body actually – disappeared. However, if left alone, the brats would doubtless find a way to destroy the dungeons and likely the entire world.
"Oh, not to worry about your classes my dearest Severus. I'm sure Minerva will take excellent care of them."
"Minerva?"
"Why yes. She most kindly volunteered to help you out this afternoon while you are busy." Snape ignored the last part of that.
"You are letting Minerva McGonall – the Gryffindor Headmistress – a woman who barely passed potions when she was school girl, into my dungeon with my class?"
"Now Severus, I know how important the education of your students is to you and I assure you, while you are of course irreplaceable as our Potions Master, Minerva is more that qualified to take over your class for one or three class periods."
"One or three classes, Headmaster? I wasn't aware I had so many plans this afternoon" Snape growled politely.
"Hmmm, yes well that depends on you dear boy. These things have a way of changing. I'm sure, for example, that young Neville Longbottom didn't intend to make such a hasty departure from your class this morning either."
Severus paused. Neville Longbottom. It was name Severus tried to avoid at all costs – it brought up far too many uncomfortable thoughts, which were growing stronger as Neville, no as Longbottom, grew older. Thoughts that as a snaky, evil git, and Neville's teacher Severus really shouldn't be having. After all Neville was a weak, foolish, emotional Gryffindor. There was absolutely no reason Severus should crave his smile or want to smother him in warm fuzzy hugs until that quite look of despair and every dimming hope left this eyes. Wait, warm fuzzy hugs? Severus groaned to himself. 'You're going soft.' But still, there was something about Neville Longbottom. Severus should revile – he did revile him – for his emotional weaknesses and pathetic desire to please anybody.
'In reality, they should be working to please you, Neville,' Snape thought savagely. In all Severus's years of travel and life he had never met anyone as essentially pure as Neville was. Admittedly most of the places Severus had been to had been created, filled, or corrupted by the Darkness, but that just made Neville's bright soul stand out to Severus's eyes all the more. And that was also one of the reasons Severus could never think of Neville in any terms of affection. Such a bright, beautiful person would never be able to stand being around the darkness and shadow that surrounded Severus Snape. Either Neville would eventually leave him or Neville's own incandescent light would slowly die and turn a solid gray after constant exposure to Severus's demons. Either fate made Severus's stomach clench with dread.
And, besides all that, Neville was still a Hogwarts student. Severus had precious few morals left but those he still did abide by included not raping his students. It didn't matter that it was taking all of Severus's coldness, both natural and assumed, to keep his feelings for Neville at bay. It didn't matter that, of later years, Severus was kept awake at night by visions of Neville whimpering in need into Severus's kiss or even of he and Neville having a simple, domesticated dinner. Severus was a teacher and Neville was his sixteen years old (and thus still under-aged) student. End of story.
And even if Neville was of age, and no longer Severus's student it was still be ludicrous to imagine such things.
'You two would never work,' he told himself. 'You shouldn't even want it to work! You are a cold, mean, and a sarcastic bastard and you like yourself like that! You are not going to change … and you couldn't bear the thought of Neville changing, so stop daydreaming like some hormone driven teenager! … Right now! Yes, no more thinking of Neville laughing, smiling, moaning with … No! Stop it right now!'
"Ah, Severus?" Albus questioned gently. "You're growling. Would you care for a lemon drop?" Albus looked hopefully into the icy glare Severus treated him to. This settled it: the old man had finally gone off his rocker. In ten years, Severus had never once accepted one of Albus's lemon drops. Albus Dumbledore, leading light of the wizarding world, was bonkers.
"I'll take your answer as a no," Albus continued sadly. "However, we were talking about young Neville – although I should begin calling him Mr. Longbottom, you know. He is coming of legal age in three days time."
Severus stopped breathing for a moment. Actually, he hadn't known. Not that it would make any difference. Just because Neville would, in three days time, be legally an adult did not make a bit of difference to Severus. It didn't.
"… your unique way of showing affection for your students…" Severus had forgotten Albus was still speaking. Did the man ever shut up? " … but really, dear boy, sending a student running in tears from your classroom is perhaps a bit much." The Headmaster fixed Severus with a steely look, filling him with a guilt Severus refused to be drawn into. Glare all Albus liked, Severus would not feel guilty, and he most definitely would not discuss Neville Longbottom with him .Senile or not, the old fool was far too perceptive for Severus's own good. It was best to swiftly steer the conversation away from the subject of Neville.
"It is not my fault the brat has too much sensibility for his own good! He'll never survive if he doesn't wake up and learn that life isn't a fairytale!" Severus exploded.
"Oh, I think Mr. Longbottom has quite a better grip on reality that many might suppose. Although, life can sometimes be far more of a fairytale than those same people might know. It is all in how you perceive things. And if you ask me," Severus hadn't asked him, but the wink Albus through him was unsettling enough for him not to comment, "if life were such a fairytale, you would make a most excellent dark, brooding hero."
"… Excuse me, Headmaster?"
Albus popped a lemon drop into his mouth. "It's vastly romantic of course. Just the sort of thing I myself would get into, if I were but a century younger." He ate another lemon drop.
"What on earth are you talking about?" There was definitely something in those lemon drops, Severus decided.
"Why you and Mr. Longbottom of course. Just think of what a fairytale we have here. You the dark, brooding hero encased in a shroud of demons only a young bright sir can break through, dashing gallantly off to rescue young Neville (although he will only be young for three more days) from certain, unknown, and deadly peril."
Severus froze. Most of that speech was too typically Albus to bother analyzing, but two words had struck his mind with all the force of a hurricane.
"Neville? Peril? What are you talking about Albus?"
"Oh, have you not heard? Mr. Longbottom has been missing since running from your classroom. That was why I called you to see me in the first place. I thought that maybe you would have a better chance of finding him than any of the teachers. A portrait just reported, you see, that Mr. Longbottom had been seen entering the dark hallways."
"What?! The dark hallways! Are you mad, letting a child wander around there? We still don't know what traps Salazar left!" The dark hallways were the alleged (no one knew for sure because on one had ever fully traversed them) pathway to the private room of Salazar Slytherin and were heavily guarded with traps and spells. "He'll be killed down there. I wouldn't even send an accomplished Slytherin near the entrance, much less an idiot Gryffindor!" Standing so fast he knocked the chair to the floor, Snape strode over to Albus's fireplace and tossed in some Floo Powder.
"Severus, what are you doing?" requested Albus anxiously. Rarely did Severus show this much emotion.
"To rescue the brat of course!" with that he shouted, 'Salazar's Hallways' and disappeared into the flames.