Disclaimer: I only wish I owned anything.
Beta'd by HPBNC and hp4freek
Warnings: abuse, both child and spousal.
Chapter Ten: The Softer Side of Snape
Weeks were passing rather quickly. It seemed as though Severus would be intimate and passionate when the moments were called for, but he would not initiate it. In fact, afterwards, he often acted like they never actually happened. Of course, he knew they did, and his erotic dreams haunted him with some of the things Hermione had done to him. But if he let her in, he would have to take down his protective walls. Let her see him, the real him. He was not just the snarky, ill-tempered Potions master at Hogwarts. He had not just been a spy for the Order of the Phoenix, Death Eater turned good.
There was a softer side of him; he had buried it for quite some time now. Being abused by your drunk of a father when you are not even big enough to protect yourself will crush your innocence and your soft side early on. When he got his letter from Hogwarts, he had renewed hope. Hope that he could find love, hope that he did not have to be an introspective, lonely boy any longer. His dreams were crushed yet again; the students were worse than his father! At least with his father, he would stumble into Severus's room drunk, smack him around a bit, and then leave, go pass out somewhere, and in the morning pretend it never happened. The children were relentless. They teased him about his looks, teased him about his personality, and teased him for his intelligence. He was so skinny and stringy looking because he spent most of his time shut up in a confined space.
Severus' mother had died when he was just a boy, no older than eight. She had protected him a little. Father left him alone until he reached the age of six. He beat his wife during his fits of drunken rage, but one night, Severus awoke from a nightmare crying. His father was angry then; he had been taking it out on his wife again. In his nightmare he heard high screams, and they seemed like they were coming from a woman in pain. Severus never figured out if those screams had been a dream, or if he had heard his tortured mother while he slept. It did not really matter though; his father heard his cries, and stormed into Severus' room, angier than he had been, beat the child, screamed at him to shut up, to stop screaming and to go back to sleep.
That was only the beginning. His mother had been growing weaker all the time; she could not fight back anymore. She found the beatings did not last as long if she did not fight back, just let him take his rage out on her. When just beating on his wife did not seem enough anymore, he started on his child as well. Severus' mother died by his father's hand. It was never reported to anyone who cared enough to investigate it. He was stuck with his abusive father. Most of the time, he was just locked in his room; he would stay there for days at a time. The lack of sun made his skin grow paler every day. His hair grew limp and lank from lack of proper nutrition and was caked with dirt and oil, matted to his head.
His only escape as a child was to read. He read every book he could find in the house and committed them to his memory. By the time he was able to leave his home for Hogwarts, he had read every book in the house at least twice. Some of them were dark books, which was how he had acquired such knowledge about the Dark Arts.
When Voldemort was coming into power, Severus was interested in the group. What really intrigued him was his anti-Muggle literature. He did not know much about Muggles. He was born a half-blood, and grew up in a Muggle area, but he was not allowed to go to traditional Muggle schools. His mother had taught him how to read and write and some basic skills like Math and English. His mother had taught him everything she could before she had passed away. Other things he learned from old text books he had found in the house. He would sneak out of his room sometimes, while his father was at work, and search the house for more books. Once, his father came home from work in the middle of the day, when Severus had been sneaking around. Father was furious and dragged Severus back to his room by the ear, punching him in the face and stomach a few times before he closed and locked the door, with an order not to leave until he was instructed to do so. His father stopped at the hardware store on the way home from work that day and added a lock to the door that could only be undone by him, from the outside.
Severus had joined the Death Eaters under false pretenses. The organization slowly changed from a civilized association into a cult, run by a power-hungry maniac. It was sort of like a gang though; once you joined, you were in for life. Severus could not just quit. He had seen too many members realise they had gotten in too deep, or that it had not been what they wanted. When they tried to ask to get out, sometimes they were allowed to leave, but it was a false sense of security. The Dark Lord would give them a day, maybe a week if he was feeling generous, and then he would send someone to kill and destroy the traitor for abandoning him.
Severus had learned a very early and very thorough lesson: only the weak are soft and innocent. If you let your guard down, and let people in, they were bound to disappoint and hurt you. He cared for Hermione, he really did, but he was scared. Scared that she would hurt him, scared that she would find someone young and handsome and leave him, scared that if they had children he would become abusive, just like his father had been. That was why he was always mean and angry. It was easier for people to hate him for who they thought he was, than for him to risk himself. He tried to consider it a selfless act; he was ensuring that the circle of abuse stopped with him, at least this time.
Hermione was concerned for Severus. It had been several weeks since their last romp. Passion had taken over for them when she had visited him in the dungeons. She was perplexed by him. He definitely was attracted to her, of that she was sure. But as soon as the moment was over, she could see his walls of defense going right back up.
He looked like he had been losing sleep lately. His skin, which had become rather healthy looking, was beginning to return to a sallow-looking state. There were dark circles under his eyes, and he seemed to be losing weight too. It was hard to tell because his robes were so big and hid his body well. She needed to talk to him, but she needed to figure out how to bring up her concerns for him. She could try to take the professional approach on it, but she was not sure if it would mean more if it was her personal concern for him. She had some serious thinking to do.