1972 - 2nd Year
He ran.
Though the rain pounded upon his face in unrelenting torrents, he couldn't stop. Twice he slipped and fell in the slick grass, mud splashing all around his school robes, but he didn't notice, his mind was somewhere else, anywhere else than this horrid place. He didn't want to think about what had just happened, and it wasn't so much the humiliation than the cruelty. How could his classmates be so mean?
After his first year at Hogwarts, Severus had decided that a positive attitude would entail positive reactions from his classmates. If, perhaps, he was nice to them, they would be nice in turn. So he had offered to aid them with potions or spells, and even did favors for some. But he had been wrong. They had taken advantage of him and when he refused to help, they made him suffer.
Why did it seem as if the world were trying to destroy him? Flashes of laughing faces and cold glares raced across his mind as Severus continued running in the freezing rain, heading towards the great lake that surrounded the southern part of Hogwarts. He felt a terrible, searing pain in his chest, as if his heart were being ripped to shreds, but it did not just rip, it was being pealed away, slowly. And yet nothing was physically ailing him, this was a torment of his mind, the pain of helplessness and self-pity. He was but a boy, his heart should not have been growing into darkness, but he felt it inside him, a nameless hate feeding off his emotions, his trials and anguish.
He paused for a moment to regain his breath, for it had left him in his haste. He had stopped a few yards short of the lake, and the surface of the water shook with each rapid dart of rain shooting from the sky. The sound was like clapping, each pinpoint making its own noise, a cacophony of water. Severus knelt down on the ground, the mud soaking into his knees. He was drenched and shivered terribly. He did not understand why he was being so dramatic about being teased again, but it was also bullying this time too. Now Potter had found a little group to help him in tormenting Severus. They called themselves the Marauders in secret, but everyone knew the name.
The pale boy closed his eyes and turned his face towards the sky, as if begging the rain to stop, screaming to the clouds that had no ears to listen to his voice. Suddenly he felt something warm in his throat, something thick and metallic that was rapidly filling in his mouth. He coughed violently and spit out blood. So the spell had hit him after all. It had been that James Potter who had executed it, upon the urging of their classmates. No one had actually believed it would work, the spell was complicated and required concentration. James had merely chuckled out the words as he pointed his wand at Severus's retreating back, for he had begun to run away. As he had neared the doorway of the castle. Severus felt a slight force hit him from behind, but he had not stopped or fallen, and continued to run. Behind him he heard more laughter, some even berating James for not "getting him."
Now as Severus sat on the wet ground, wiping the blood from his chin, his throat throbbing with a dull ache, he felt completely empty, as if all his rage were slipping away. It was much more terrible than hatred, it was apathy. Did he truly no longer care that he was being mistreated? Unexpectedly, he felt more warmth touch his face, but this time it was running down his cheeks. Tears? He couldn't tell if he were truly crying, or if it was the heavy rain, but as the droplets fell towards his lips, they tasted salty.
So he could still cry after all, he was not completely uncaring of what was happening to him.
Coughing up the blood had made him a bit uneasy, and even tired. He didn't know the details of the hex, but he knew that he was to lose a bit more blood within the hour. Soon his limbs failed him and he softly crumpled to the ground, lying on his back. He didn't care that he would probably have a fever when he woke up, or that the mud was now squishing unpleasantly behind his neck. Everything was filthy and wet and dark, and he felt that that was where he belonged, where everyone wanted him to be. Alone and damp, in pain and still suffering. His eyes closed and he rested in the darkness that accepted him like a lost son.
o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o
"Severus! Severus, wake up! Can you hear me? Severus..."
A worried and panicky voice was calling his name, but he couldn't reach it, as if he were being pulled away by an unseen force. He felt someone holding his shoulders and shaking them, soft ringlets of hair brushing his cheeks, and the spicy scent of cinnamon hung in the air, like a winter's morning by the fireside.
Finally he opened his eyes, and saw, to his surprise, the worried face of Lily Evans staring at him. "Lil-" he tried to say her name, but was interrupted by another coughing fit. Lily watched in horror as the boy convulsed and a small glob of blood wretched from his mouth onto the slick grass. It gleamed, slowly being washed away by the steady rain.
"Oh Severus, what have they done to you?" she cried angrily. "This is clear harassment," she said again, her cheeks flushing and her eyes ablaze, "Who was it?" Severus looked up at her, shocked. She was expressing so much passion, such vibrant emotion. It was more than he had ever possessed. It was as if she were making up for his apathy.
"Well come now, I know it was a hex, but who did it?" she commanded again, her brilliant green eyes fixated upon his. Severus didn't know what to make of her concern over him, in fact, he was afraid of it. Why was she being so...nice? Well, it wasn't exactly kind when she was watching him so intently, but she was worried about him, and that warmed his heart.
"Was it Potter?" She voiced suddenly, her revolve unshakable. Severus merely nodded. This caused the girl's anger to be enflamed again. "I knew it, that boy needs to be taught a lesson," she fumed. "He thinks he's so much better than everyone else. He may be popular, but he shouldn't let that get to his head. Obviously he's insecure, if he needs to pick on helpless, scrawny little-" she gasped suddenly, realizing what she was saying.
After an awkward silence, she finally muttered, "Sorry, I didn't mean...oh Merlin! I'm just so mad at that impudent, smug-faced pansy!" she hoped that by reverting back to flustered anger, Severus would forget how she had just described him.
However, Severus barely noticed what she had said. He was quite confused. Everyone had been laughing along with Potter and his friends, and yet the very girl whom Potter adored, was helping him. Potter's admiration for Lily was undeniable, everyone knew he liked her, even if she herself didn't want anything to do with the arrogant boy. Severus tensed, was she only helping him to get back at Potter?
He wanted to say something to her, to test if she truly cared for him, but he could not find his voice, the thick blood still coating the inside of his throat. He wiped at his chin again, feeling the blood dribble from his mouth, an aftermath of the hex. "Can't you speak?" she asked suddenly, realizing that he had not said a word yet. He merely shook his head, his oily black hair dripping with rainwater, hung down and tickled his chin as he did so. He clutched at his throat and his bottom lip trembled. Lily frowned, realizing his pain. "I'm sorry, I didn't realize it hurt you so," she murmured softly, her previous anger ebbing away.
She slipped her robe over her head so that she was only wearing a vest and her skirt. Then she draped the robe like a cape over his shoulders and said, "Do you think you can get up?"
The soft robes were warm and dry from the inside, and Severus stopped shivering, though his mind seemed somewhere else. She put his arm over her shoulder and lifted him up a bit, testing this stance to see if he could walk. Lily gasped a bit, the boy looked so pale in the darkness, his white skin gleaming, almost setting off its own sheen. He still had not spoken a word, though it was clear he was miserable. She wanted to say something to ease his pain, but she didn't know how to comfort him. All she could do was defend him, patch up his wounds and care for him like a wounded animal.
Yet it seemed he did not register anything she was doing for him. She sighed, though again, he had not noticed. Lily couldn't figure out why she cared about this shrunken, pale boy in the first place. She was not helping him merely out of pity, guilt, fondness, or even a sense of morale. She did it because he was captivating, because, despite what she told herself in her mind, she wanted to be near him, to protect him somehow. She sensed that he was a fragile person at the moment, the constant torment of his classmates slowly turning him into what they already thought him to be, something deserving of their abuse. Lily realized that she wanted to save him, not just from everyone else, but from himself as well. She wanted to save him from becoming a person bent on revenge and hatred.
They were almost to the doors of the castle when suddenly, Severus pushed her away. She almost fell to the ground, but only stepped back awkwardly regaining her balance. She stared at him, confused and surprised. He was panting slightly, standing off-balanced with legs splayed apart. His long hair was all pushed to one side so that it covered one of his languid dark eyes. "Seve-" she began, but he barked out, "Don't touch me!"
He had regained his voice and was now trying to conceal a sudden rage, "Don't touch me with your filthy mudblood hands!" he shouted into the torrents of rain that were now pounding upon them both. He threw her robes back to her in disgust. Lily recoiled in shock and sudden fear. A mudblood...he had called her a mudblood...
Lily felt tears pricking at the corners of her eyes, though she refused to let them fall. She was deeply hurt by the boy's sudden outburst, and his voice had been filled with deep malice, as if all the hatred he felt for Potter was being directed at her. "Severus, what are you saying?" she pleaded, searching for an answer that would justify his reaction.
Severus just stood there, the anger blazing in his mind. Truly, he had not cared that she was muggle-born. He had known this fact before; it was common to know the origins of their classmates at Hogwarts. However, he had chosen this trait of hers as an anchor. He needed something, some reason for pushing her away. He couldn't bear her touch because it had been so warm and giving, her reassuring smile so full of kindness and genuine care. It caused him to panic, and he feared that it was all a lie and that one day she would betray his trust, and so he had to push her away before he got hurt. He had been searching for some reason to make her hate him, to make her leave him alone, and he had found this in her heritage. She was a mudblood, and he clung to this one fact as if it were a lifeline. He had molded the word around him lips, testing it, filling it with all his frustration and anger.
She looked so beautiful standing there, her thick her being weighed down by the pouring rain. Severus found that he was having feelings for the girl that he didn't want to have. It was only natural, after she had been so kind to him, in fact the first person who had been kind to him. But he knew that the feeling would not last, that it was just a reaction to her magnetic beauty and charisma. Everyone who met her loved her, and he was no different. The only thing to gain from loving her was disappointment and pain, and so he tried to distance them before he felt too strongly about her.
"Just leave me alone," he shouted again, and ran off towards the castle. Lily clutched at the robes he had just thrown back to her. It was still warm, even after sheltering such a cold-hearted boy. Finally, she allowed herself to cry, only a little.