Growing Up Snape
By Teacherbev
Disclaimer: I am not J.K. Rowling, I am not a multinational bookselling company, nor am I a multi-million dollar movie company, so I don't own anything that you recognize. I am a retired former teacher with a bizarre sense of humor, who likes to twist plots and play with characters' minds, so enjoy.
AN: I am excited, my very first story, Harry Potter and the Guardians of Power, has been nominated for a Quills Harry Potter Fan Fiction contest under the action/adventure heading at http/ www. geocities. com /dragonhidequills/main.html (Just remove the spaces, for some reason ff will not download a link here). Please read it and vote for it. And thanks for all of those who have added my stories and my author name to their favorites and their c2 groups! Makes writing much more meaningful and fun when I know people like it.
AN: To download any of my stories, click on my author name at the top of this page and then click on homepage. You may read messages, leave messages, and take the poll without signing in, but you must sign into Yahoo to download the stories. In the sidebar that says members only, just click on files and it will lead you to all three stories, each available in PDF, e-book and mobipocket formats. Enjoy and please review!
'Italics' is mental speech.
Chapter 12: Despair
Severus sat at the staff table, his dark mood reflected upon his dark scowling face, the pain, anger and agony clearly etched in the deep lines that made him appear much older than his actual age. His shoulder length greasy black hair was liberally streaked with grey, adding age without making him appear distinguished at all. His black piercing eyes swept the chattering students making their way back to the house tables, each busy sharing their summer excitements with their fellow classmates. Each time the malevolent glare of the potions master would catch an unsuspecting student's eyes, that student would suddenly freeze, unable to speak or blink while they were caught in the stark, deep penetrating glare. Feeling ashamed at the fear and panic that a simple gaze struck clear to their soul, each felt as if they had been judged and found sadly lacking in everything that mattered. Each would finally recover, shuddering and shaking as they realized where they were, they would return to their dorm mates, subdued and quieter than they had been.
Severus was lost, buried in his own personal hell as the beginning of term feast started once again as it did every September the first, the sorting hat sang some meaningless drivel, the announcements flowed over his head without penetrating his consciousness even once, and only someone watching very closely would notice the quick flicker of interest in his dark black orbs as the first of the new eleven year olds was called up to sit upon the ancient stool and place the dilapidated and venerable old hat upon their head to be sorted.
Severus searched each young and eager face, hoping for some recognition, some flash of understanding to lighten a pair of brilliant green eyes. Paying no attention to the names called; he had searched them in vain many times over the last summer without success; he inspected each small child, watching for a gesture, an unconscious movement, something, anything that might identify a hidden identity to someone who knew the child intimately.
The last child had been called and sorted, Severus could not have said which house the boy had been sorted to, and in fact had not a clue how many new Slytherins he would have to indoctrinate into his strict house rules by the end of the week. His shoulders slumped as the meaningless announcements flowed over his head, never registering or penetrating his own personal hell. Once again nothing, no glimmer, no flicker of recognition, his child; his gift was still gone!
Severus finally realized that someone was calling his name; he looked up to find Albus' worried countenance only inches away from the top of his head. The headmaster had aged greatly; the trademark twinkle seemed dimmed and forced somehow. He rarely smiled and the laugh lines that had been etched on his wizened face were slowly being replaced by worry lines nearly as deep as the ones that aged the much younger man slumped into his chair, radiating despair and angst.
"Severus, you must pull yourself together, child, you are tearing yourself apart with this grief and I worry about you." Albus' voice was soft but full of compassion and deep concern for the man he considered his son.
"Where is he, how could he just leave me? I love him; he should have been here tonight at least! He is eleven now, how could he not come here! His name is still in your book, so he is still alive… somewhere!" The agony was clearly audible in the man's anguished speech as he looked for answers that the old man wished he had for him.
"I don't know, child and if I did I would have gone to the ends of the earth to fetch him myself. I love him too, child, you know that. I had also hoped somehow that he would appear here tonight for his sorting, but it was not to be. Come now, you need to get some sleep before classes begin again tomorrow." Albus reached a surprisingly strong hand under Severus' upper arm and pulled the younger man to his feet reluctantly.
"I can't go on, Albus; there is nothing left to go on for. Tonight was my last hope of finding him again. I can't, I just can't…" his voice, so soft it was barely audible cracked with deep emotion, tears welling and falling unnoticed down the prematurely aged face.
Albus pulled the man into a hug, drawing the graying head to his own quivering shoulder to both give and receive comfort from the touch. "Shh, child, I will be there for you as long as I can, and we cannot give up hope as long as we breathe. He is still alive and that will have to be enough for now." His voice softened until he was speaking only to himself, "For the both of us, child, for the both of us."
He gently walked the silently crying wizard out the door at the back of the Great Hall and down the short hall to the quarters he had shared with his son for only a single short year. Just one short year that had changed all of their lives forever. A single year that was still dictating their lives even now, so many years later.
Albus turned the care of Severus over to Nippy and made his own solitary and anguished walk up to his own quarters to find Minerva McGonagall waiting to offer her own comfort to the clearly distraught man. "How is Severus doing, Albus?" Concern deepened the worry lines on the prim and proper witch's face as she directed the obviously upset man into an upholstered chair in front of a blazing fire where an elegant tea service sat on a small table waiting for them. She fixed a cup, adding a dollop of a strong calming potion to his cup before handing it to her old friend.
"I don't know how much longer he can stay sane, he tries to hold it all inside, but it's tearing him apart. I know he hoped, we both hoped, that Shaun would return tonight. And to watch what should have been his son's sorting ceremony, what should have been a night of joy and anticipation…and to have it all crushed once again! I don't know, Minerva, I just don't know how much more he can take. Or I can take, either!" He slumped down into his chair, finally sipping the tea his friend and colleague urged him to drink.
The two sat and stared into the flames, each lost in their own thoughts as they pondered how much their lives had changed on that fateful July day seven years ago.
Back in his chambers, Severus slumped to the floor, so bone weary and mind tired that he couldn't manage to dredge up the energy to even stand up. He wished he could just stop breathing, his heart would stop beating, life could just end so he could be together again with his son, his glorious child. He thought back on the last seven years, the sheer fear he had engendered in the students unlucky enough to cross his path or even make unsuspecting eye contact. His students learned the material he taught them, they were too afraid of him not to. But there was no joy, no spark of excitement when a particularly good student managed to perfectly brew a complicated potion. His life was empty, a bitter, angst filled shell of life, while inside he had died and his soul was just as gone as if he had been kissed by a dementor.
He dragged himself over to the couch and buried his head as he had done every night for the past seven years, small broom clutched in his left hand, right hand rubbing a small blue blanket with the initials HJP across his tear streaked face as he relived that fateful day over and over again, searching for some tiny clue, some here-to-fore overlooked small fact, some something that would give him hope to continue for one more day, one more minute, even one more heartbeat…but there was nothing; as there had always been nothing.
As he had so many nights before, Severus finally slept, tired beyond belief with grief and crying until he physically could not remain awake another second. Nippy sighed once again and went about the job of efficiently putting his master to bed once again as he had so many times before and he would do so again as long as he needed to.
AN: Sorry for the very short chapter, but this seemed to be the logical stopping point to prologue the agony for the reader. I just got back from vacation around midnight last night and have been doing laundry like mad ever since. I will have the next chapter up very shortly so don't hit me with too many deadly spells or I won't be able to type! Thanks for reading and reviewing.