warning: had a bit of suicidal thoughts in Severus' POV part
Also, thanks for the 100 reviews!
The Dark Lord didn't expect much on what would happen as soon as he and Severus stepped out of Hogwarts' fireplace. But he knew his supposed heir wanted to avoid people's attention, and thus had ordered Lucius to tell the Slytherins and associated students to ignore them.
Though for whatever the reason was, this was not the case.
He quickly realized the other students had heeded the words, but not the Gryffindors. And those damned children in red and gold began to cheer while they headed to the Snakes' table.
"How're you feeling, Snape?"
"What's with the wheelchair? Thought you only fell down?"
"Did you break a leg over it? Pomfrey can fix it in a bit!"
Lord Voldemort didn't know whether those words were genuine or not, or even borderline sarcastic. What he did know however, was Severus clenched and unfurled his fingers every now and then, his body was rigid and tense. Was it out of agitation?
"Do you want to be with your friends?" he whispered as they approached the Slytherin table. "Or do you want to go to your new room straight away?"
He heard Severus drew out a breath before replying, "It'll be rude to not greet them."
"I'm sure they will understand."
"…Ten minutes, then we will leave."
"Very well," the Dark Lord agreed and stopped at the nearest corner heading to the Snakes' dungeons before taking a seat. It sure was a nostalgic feeling to be surrounded by children again after years of leaving school.
"Malfoy, Snape," he heard one of Severus' friends spoke, to which he only nodded. Severus merely gave them a weak smile.
"How's your head?"
He glanced aside to see Severus subconsciously rubbed the back of his head. "…Doesn't hurt much."
"We can give you notes if you want them. Oh, and the professors said you don't have to go to classes if you're not feeling like it."
The rest of the conversation went by without much fanfare, though Lord Voldemort noticed the younger students had questions in their eyes as they looked at Severus' wheelchair, and had silenced them with a glare. When the ten minutes were up, he was about to get up and bring Severus to his room when he saw a small blond boy was standing beside him.
When did he come over?
He knew he could just drive the kid away with a stare, but then the boy said, "I'm sorry."
Those words seemingly rang across the Great Hall, which turned eerily quiet. Cursing himself for the blunder, the Dark Lord only watched as his heir went pale, grimacing with wide eyes.
"What…" Severus finally muttered after a minute, "…are you apologizing for?"
The student choked out, "F- For the B- Boggart."
Lord Voldemort really wished he was at somewhere else by now. He absent-mindedly brought his hand to his neck, remembering how Severus had lashed out upon knowing what had happened nearly two months ago.
Much to his surprise, Severus tried hard to calm himself down as seen with his closed eyes and clenched fists, no doubt by the use of Occlumency. "What makes you think it's your fault?" he asked the younger student softly.
The Dark Lord didn't know whether to applaud the blond boy for his bravery or his stupidity when he didn't answer.
"I could have left when you called me, but I chose to step into the classroom," Severus went on, seemingly reminiscing the fateful day, "I chose to teach you about the Boggart. The form it made… was not ideal for me, but even I have to admit it's much better than say, having a rabid werewolf in the class."
At that, most students who listened in to their conversation turned to Remus Lupin, who cowered in his seat.
"I would be blamed, even got thrown into Azkaban if you got hurt due to my own fears. For… not being brave enough to confront what I'm afraid the most. If anything, I apologize for frightening you with my reactions. But please, don't mention about it ever again."
Lord Voldemort quickly got the note when Severus looked at him and pushed the wheelchair whilst calling Horace Slughorn to show them the new room.
There was only darkness.
Severus could merely wander around with his back hunched, not knowing which way to go. He was not afraid of the dark, but the bleakness of wherever he was felt utmost unsettling. He briefly frowned after realizing he was in his mother's frock dress and his father's shabby oversized coat, but simply let them be. It's not like he was not used to wearing such items.
"Ouch!" he flinched when something struck him out of nowhere. And another followed.
Before long, Severus was cowering down in utter fright, tears running onto his face as the attacks increased in intensity; choking as bubbles of soap began to spew out of his mouth.
"Stop it, please!" he cried out with froth all over his face. But there was only silence; the unrelenting attacks went on as his pleas went unheard.
Was this how people felt when they got stoned? What did he even do?
"It's more the fact that you exist, if you know what I mean…" a sinister voice finally spoke out in answer of his silent question.
Waves of cruel laughter started to echo around and ring into his ears, drowning out the beatings and everything else.
Severus woke up with a jolt; his heart was racing in his chest as he looked around him, staring at the objects nearby within the dimly lit room. While waiting for his breath to slow down, he realized he had covered his mouth in attempt to muffle his scream and lowered his shaky hands.
"It's just a dream," he reassured himself while slowly curling into a fetal position, "it's just… a d- dream…"
More often than not, he cursed his father for instinctively instigating such behavior onto him.
He winced as tremors ran along his body and he coughed heavily, feeling the phantom pain in his lungs began to flare up and turned on the table lamp in search for his medication potions. Taking out two glass vials and one jar from the drawer beside his bed, Severus quickly drank down the potions and heaved a relieved sigh when his coughing fit died down and his chest cooled slightly.
As he lathered the cooling salve onto his left side, Severus realized his potions and salve were almost all used up and clicked his tongue in frustration upon having to make them for the umpteenth time ever since he woke up from his coma.
The Healers told him he would have to rebuild his magical core by himself, without the help of others. And by that, they literally meant doing just like what he had done in his childhood years.
Severus screwed down the lid of the jar and put it aside before thinking morosely. Perhaps it was not too late; he could just… end his life right there and be done with everything else. Because what did he do to deserve such cruelty?!
But that would make Rogue's sacrifice be in vain. Even now, he could feel the faint thrum of the protection spell running in his veins, ensuring the safety of him and the rest of the Slytherin students, as long as he had the will to live.
No wonder why people didn't choose the resurrection potion as a way to gain immortality.
Sighing, Severus took his arm wand holster and looked over for the suitable wand for the next step of his self-therapy. He ran along his fingers onto each of them, all were eager to serve him though ultimately he chose the beech one. His elm wand was fitted to his cane as a last resort if he couldn't reach for the rest. Making himself comfortable on the bed, Severus then casted Vulnera Sanentur onto his left side.
It was not much and practically almost a waste of time, but at least his injured leg still could move around and feel some sensations, and that was better than not feeling anything at all.
Swallowing his tears away, Severus put the beech wand back into the holster and put it around his left forearm. He then grabbed the cane next to his bed and gingerly stood up, his left leg wobbled in protest and utmost pain before sitting down on his wheelchair, gasping for breath. He could faintly hear the bell rang as to signal the beginning of the class sessions, though he made no move to prepare himself for the day.
Severus had stopped going to class merely four days after his return, already hating the looks of teachers and students alike who all gave him sympathetic gazes. The rune circles in his room were nice and all; he really appreciated the efforts they did for him but… he hated being weak. Oh, he had heard talks from his friends who practically called him the human phoenix after Rogue's stunt, but was the fame worth it if his life was utterly ruined?
Still, Severus was not someone to back down from his own promise, and he slowly adjusted and moved his wheelchair forward to start working on his numerous potions.
The room he stayed in was simply the old Potions classroom that was not in use, but was changed to fit his accommodations and needs. The shelves full of ingredients and tables were lowered so he could make his work easily.
"Libby," he called, and a house-elf appeared with a crack, bowing down to him. Her green eyes widened at the sight of him, blinking profusely when seeing his new orange eyes.
"Master Severus!" she greeted frantically, "Masters and Mistresses Prince are all worry about Master! S- Should Libby tells them? What does Master Severus need? Libby will do it right away, Master Severus!"
Severus couldn't help chuckling over her antics. "Yes, I suppose so," he started, "Here; get these items from the shelves, can you? If there are none, take some from the gardens. And, um… bring along the books in my room."
The house-elf bowed and took the labeled ingredients, placing them carefully onto the table while Severus set up his working place. The three cauldrons were filled with water, and by the time Libby came back from Prince Manor with other items and his books, he began to cut up some sprig leaves.
"Can Libby help?" the house-elf asked but Severus shook his head, to which her ears drooped.
"How's Salazar?" he queried instead.
Libby subconsciously wrung the hem of her outfit, "Master's great serpent is so worried. He wants to come over to Hogwarts but Mistress Meredith stops him. Mistress Meredith says he will be in danger, is that true?"
Severus only nodded. "They want to kill him."
The house-elf gasped.
"I think I can manage on my own for now," he went on, stirring the cauldron for the cooling potion. "Though… can you search up some food that can make someone's magical core to grow better and at a faster rate?"
"Libby will try her best, Master Severus," she said and with a nod from him, she left.
Severus turned to the cauldron with the salve and stirred it seven times before glancing at the snakewood leaves Libby had brought over. He then took them and pounded them with his pestle, scooping the contents with a brass spoon into the three cauldrons each.
Taking out his wands, he set the alarm to alert him of his next ingredient for each potion; the hazel for the cough syrup, the beech for the cooling potion and his mother's wand for the salve. It's not that he wasn't capable of remembering the time himself, it was merely because he didn't exactly trust his own body clock at the moment.
Severus then fetched one of the books on the table to pass the time and blinked upon realizing it was the Secrets of the Darkest Arts. Though with a shrug, he flicked it open and found the parchment in which Marvolo and Professor Slughorn once discussed about Horcruxes. Intrigued by the conversation, he went to read more of it.
Not long afterward, he took another cauldron and began brewing something else.
Sirius Black couldn't believe his luck.
Severus- no, Snivellus Snape got his leg broken after the fiasco happened over two months ago and thus, couldn't continue his duty as the Head Boy. James was utterly ecstatic with the news and though Sirius wanted to brag on how he had made it to occur in the first place, he simply shut his mouth about it. Not to mention the Headmaster had berated him for the werewolf 'prank' nearly three years ago, so he couldn't risk himself getting expelled just before his N.E.W.Ts.
Though, he didn't mind if he got to expose the location of Salazar Slytherin's Chamber of Secrets beforehand. Oh, how he missed getting people's attention through his looks and good charm. Ever since his unfortunate incident with the Muggles in his sixth year, the girls grimaced in utmost disgust at the sight of him. And he never stopped cursing Snape for degrading him into some lowly mutt.
It was night just before curfew and Sirius entered the second-floor girls' lavatory, scanning the whole place to see if Moaning Myrtle was around before heading to the mysterious pipe with the small 'S' mark. He frowned upon seeing a piece of parchment there and saw scrawls of words written on it.
As if hypnotized by the handwriting, Sirius' grey eyes glazed over and he uttered out the words, to which the pipe turned and revealed the doorway hidden by the stone walls.
With a wide crazed grin, Sirius stepped into the secret doorway, unaware of his impending doom.