Disclaimer- I own nothing. Aurora gave me the idea for the title, confusing me asshe did so. See if you can figure out why it is named"Confusion."
Confusion
By: AbbieSnape
You sit there watching as I try to complete this essay that you have assigned, not bothering to even help me. Not that I suspect you to. You hate me. You hate me because I am like my father. Or so you think.
If you got to know me you would know I am more like you than my own father. My life's not all fluff and I was never served anything on a silver platter as I've noticed you think. I was eleven when I found out who I was, what I was.
You say I'm arrogant. Do you really believe that? Have you ever seen me curse someone just because I was bored? I'm not my father. I don't know my father. How can I act like someone I've never met? You don't know me. You never tired to get to know me. Me as in Harry. Not James Potter's son. For that's how you see me.
I'm not just his son. I'm my mother's son too. If I act like my father I must act like my mother also, correct?
But I think I've figured out why you hate me so. You see, I am smarter than you think sir. I notice things. That's what I do. I watch people, things. Picking up on things other wouldn't.
And I believe you hate me because I am James Potter's son and not your own. You may think I am insane, which I believe myself. But you hate me because you loved or love my mother. She stuck up for you and you put her down. Broke her heart. Made her go the one person that cared for her. The one person you hated.
You had a chance to be my father. But you gave up the chance when you broke her heart. So don't hate me for something I had no control over. You could have changed the fate of my life.
The Dursley's would have had to never put up with me. The freak they called me. You were never so cruel to call me that. But they did.
If you loved my mother why did you break her heart? Make her go to your enemy? You might have been a Slytherin and her a Gryffindor. But you could have been there.
You could have been the person I leaned on when Vol-sorry you don't like his name- the Dark Lord pushed my sanity to the edge. Someone that I needed that I never got.
I keep things inside for I never had anyone to share them with.
You think I am like my father. But am I more like you, is that what you hate the most? I see you look at my eyes and pain flashes across your own. Do I remind you of her? Do you get lost in the emerald? Do you miss her when you remember? I hope you do. I hope you remember every last detail of my mother so one day, if you can ever get off the fact that I am not yours, you can tell me about her. I would love to hear anything about her. I have her eyes and she was good in charms, that is all I know. But what was she like? Was she smart, kind, and lovable? Maybe the last one is a given.
So sir, if you want to hate me, find a better reason. I sit back and watch you watch me, lost in your own painful memories you can't have back.
Do you love her? I think you still do. Or did she break your heart? You have had to love her. You aren't like the Dark Lord for you have a heart. Have loved and have been loved by someone. You could have had a son. Someone to be there with you through it all. And a father to someone who needed love and comfort through all the shit in their life.
Is it hard for you to think that I've actually thought of this like this? You might be afraid but be more afraid for me who actually made these conclusions. I know I'm right too, sir. You can't say differently.
I watch, maybe a little too closely. Am I the one to make you see the truth? To make you see what you think you have forgot or denied? But I don't think that is the case, sir. You have had to remember for why else would you protect me for the past years? Don't say you haven't because you have. You've tired to save me in my first quidditch match, which I have never said thank you for but thank you. In my third year, you tired to save me from my godfather and Professor Lupin. Thank you again. Then you tired to teach me Occlumancy, which I did tried my best at sir, I really did. I just wish I could have mastered it. Sirius may be still alive but lets not talk about him. I know you don't like him either.
I thank you for all that Professor. Did you think you owed my mother something? Is that why you did it? But no matter how I try to believe that, I know differently. It's because I'm your son, in your eyes, aren't I? And you had to protect your cub. That's why you were always hateful to me. Because you had to in fear your emotions would show. See, I am not as dense as you think I am. Deny what I say all you want but the truth is known by me.
You hate me because you can't have me as your son. But you can. I need and want a person to confine in. I've never had one. But you hate me, right? Or do you hate Lily Evans?
You can't hate Lily Evans, right? I know. You can't so you cast all your hate on to James Potter and his son. For something you or Mum did. So you hate me.
So you hate me sir? Do you really truly hate me? I think you think you do. I think you hate me because I am Lily Evans and James Potter's son and not Lily and yours. You can't protect me the way you want to. I'm a Gryffindor (haven't mention that one before in my ramble) and not a Slytherin, though the hat did want to put me there, bringing me to my next point. I am more like you than James Potter. Because my mother broke your heart (or did you break hers and you hate me because you did?) And my last reason is because I have to murder your loves murderer. You don't want me to have to be a murder, do you? You would do anything for me not to have to be one, wouldn't you? Because then that would be just one more thing that I am like you.
So next time you look at me sir, see Lily Evans. Not James Potter. See me as me if you can. I'm not arrogant. I'm just a boy who grew up with muggles, treated like dirt and is famous not willing. I'll accept a father sir, or even a mentor.
My essay is much longer than you have assigned. And as I finish writing this, you still are looking at me, seeing me struggling to write the essay you assigned and offer me no help. But you want to help, don't you sir?
Severus Snape laid down the "essay" on his desk, surprised by what it said. The essay had nothing to do with the assigned topic but yet, he found himself writing a red O on top of the parchment.
The boy knew what he was talking about and deserved nothing less than an O. He gave supportive details to his own topic. Something the others had seemed to haveforgot to add. It was clearly the best essay he had read.
For it was the only one based entirely on the truth.
0-0-0 THE END…for now…0-0-0
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