Snape's Worst Memory

by purple-drake

[COMPLETE] There's been a lot of speculation as to why the memory in the pensieve is Snape's worst. People assume that it's because of the humiliation. People assume it's because of Potter and Black. What if the reason was something completely different?

A/N: Just a little drabble on why that particular memory was Snape's worst. Please review.

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Mudblood.

I can't believe I called her that. I can't believe I actually spoke to her, referred to her with that foul name. I can't believe it.

Potter and Black would tell you, 'no, that's ol' Snivellus, he's like that; a typical Slytherin', but they see only what they want to see. They only see someone they can torment, someone who's inferior to their foolish high morals. They swagger around, thinking their righteousness justifies their actions. Their arrogance knows no bounds. They don't see.

But she did. She defended me from their harsh ministrations, she encouraged me when she felt I was put-upon, she gave me kind words and she actually smiled. She did all that. She noticed me – for me.

That's all over now; shattered with a single word.

Mudblood.

It's all Potter and Black's fault, and Lupin's, too, because he was there and didn't do anything. He knew what they were doing was wrong, but he was afraid.

Some Gryffindor.

If they had just left me alone, if they hadn't taunted me and attacked me, I might not have said it. If they hadn't taken everything away from me, like my father, like my mother, like my own damned housemates, if they hadn't taken my pride, I wouldn't have blurted the words. Words I have to use daily to prove myself to the other Slytherins, to prove that I am worthy, that I have the appropriate demeanour to match my skill. Words that are cast here and there, littered and fired throughout the halls.

But from my lips, never at her.

I had nothing left. Nothing left except to establish myself in a clique I didn't want. Nothing except to gather the remains of my shattered pride and choose between bowing humbly to Potter's humiliating and forced graciousness or saying something, doing something that would prove I wouldn't just bow.

She was right, in a way. She said he was just like me. That's not true; I'm just like him. I never badgered her to go out or tried to impress her, but I uncovered the divide between the muggle-borns and the purebloods. I hurt her.

I would give anything to take back those words, to beg her forgiveness. But I can't. Because I don't know how.

And because a Slytherin never apologises.

- finis