In the Darkness
Ok, sorry I haven't updated for a while, I have been SO busy! Here's an extra long chappie! Enjoy! A bit of Severus's history... Please remember I am thinking that the Half Blood Prince never happened! just for this story!
Chapter 24
Granger couldn't possibly keep up. He purposely took long, quick strides, knowing that she would struggle. However, he simply did not have time to wait for her. He knew that at 8:45 precisely he could collect the dust from the moonflower plant, a potent and somewhat rare ingredient, with amazing qualities. He could hear everything that she said, though rarely gave a reply, until her persistence would reward her with a snide remark or simply one syllable answer. He had heard her stop, and in turn had stopped too. He also heard her stumble as he walked towards her, and a small cry escape those perfect lips.
"Get up." Was all that he could say.
She had of course tried to argue. Tried to get him to slow down. But he had carried on walking. Partly to get to his destination on time, and partly because he knew that at some point he would have to face her and give her the explanation that he had been rehearsing for so long. But he wasn't ready to. He didn't want to. In all honesty he was almost afraid. Of her reaction, of what he might say, what he might do. He could have collected the moonflower dust any night this week, but he chose tonight because he knew that she could shout and scream at him without being heard by anyone else. She spoke again.
"W, why are you being like this?"
Silence was her reward.
"WHY ARE YOU BEING LIKE THIS?" Out of fear she was getting aggressive, no doubt her mind jumping to conclusions that frightened her, added with the cold and the dark, she would be getting emotional too. He decided to answer.
"Like what, Miss Granger?"
"Why can't you call me Hermione, like you did last night?"
"Miss Granger, I wou…" He began, but was interrupted.
"No! Call me Hermione? You think that you can treat me like this? I don't know what your problem is, but you have no right to treat me like this!"
"How dare you…"
"Oh here we go! What are you going to come up with? The teacher/student act? Well how many teachers kiss their students like you kissed me last night? How many teachers find themselves hard in the presence of their students? You cannot treat me like this, I won't allow it! I am not a toy, Severus, Snape, Professor, whatever you want me to call you. You were such a nice person yesterday, and now you are worse than ever! No matter what you think, I am a woman with feelings! I want to know what's going on"
He took measured steps back to her, as she carried on demanding explanations from him. He knew that the time had come, that he would have to explain himself. He didn't want to, he wasn't ready, a surge of apprehension coursed through him.
"You'll never understand me." He said simply, his mind screaming at her to shut up, not to want the answer from him.
"Please, let me try."
He looked at her, and saw a longing in her eyes. He had tried. He had told her to keep away, yet she had persisted. He didn't want to tell her, to show her. She would never know what she was asking him unless she understood. He turned to face her.
"You want me? You want to know me? Fine." He looked her dead in the eye. She must understand what she had asked him to do. Where should he start?
"Miss… Hermione… please, try to understand exactly how hard this is for me. As you know I am a private, solitary man. This kind of conversation about myself is somewhat alien to me…"
"Perhaps if you were to let people close to you…" she said snidely. Her pent up anger was threatening to spill.
"Nothing I do is without reason. There are no excuses for how I am, no made up fairy tales. How I have wished that I am the way I am out of choice, but I am not. No person is born alone, Hermione. And no person is born with the desire to be alone. Surely you must know that."
"So you do want to be alone?" She asked. He paused.
"Nobody wants to be alone. But it is easier that way."
"So, you're telling me that someone made you want to be alone? How does that happen?" He sighed.
"Hermione, if I am to begin to explain to you, you will have to open your eyes…"
"My eyes are open, and I see is a man who…"
"No! Your eyes are shut tight! You have no comprehension of the life of others that might vary from yours! I am trying to explain to you something that I do not even understand myself! There are people who live life in a way that you cannot even begin to imagine, because it is so bizarre, so deep and dark that to even scratch the surface of it would make you sleep with the light on for fear of what lives in the shadows. I have lived such a life, Miss Granger, and for that reason alone you will never begin to understand. But to even try, you must open your eyes to a world that is not like yours. I am not asking you to accept this world, or even agree to it. Merely acknowledge that it exists, more closely than you think, and acknowledge that those who live it have never had the choice for anything better." He drew his gaze away from her, and within a split second knew what he was going to do. He walked towards her; quick steps followed her smaller ones. She stopped walking backwards only when she came into contact with a tree, dropping her wand and he stopped right in front of her, chests almost touching.
"What ar…" She began, but he cut her off, his voice sliding through the darkness, his tone calming, yet his words alarming.
"It is not my intention to frighten you. However, what I am about to show you will disturb you, in that there is no doubt. Your outlook on the world will not be the same should you truly wish to understand me. Any naïve innocence will be lost. Things that were once beautiful and simple no longer will be. Are you prepared to lose that?"
Her face. Her beautiful face. Fear, with an unquenchable thirst for knowledge written over those innocent features. There was no way that she was going to back out now. How he wished that she would. There was no way that she could know the magnitude of what he was going to share with her.
The light from her wand on the floor cast shadows across her face. Her porcelain skin looked flawlessly smooth, wide eyes searching for an answer. Slowly she nodded her head, giving him the dreaded answer. He closed his eyes only for a moment, and when he opened them, he bore into her soft doe ones, knowing that they were cold, knowing that they were unforgiving. No emotion.
Slowly he raised his hands her temple, his large hands covering the sides of her face. Her eyes widened as his closed, focusing on the images he was about to send her…
He felt her body jolt against his only for a second before all feeling was lost, and for only a moment his world went black as he was plunged into his memory. Colour rebuilt itself around him, a mixture of blues and browns and he knew that he was there again.
He was 9 years old. In his bedroom, in Snape Manor.
He looked down at his hands. They were small and childlike. His hair wasn't shoulder length, but shorter with thick natural layers to it that clung to the top of his ears and neck. He looked around and saw his room from a child's view. Everything was bigger.
Footsteps up the stairs made him lower his hands in surprise, although he knew who it was. It would be his father. He would open the door and his dark eyes would stare into his, his black cape billowing behind him, his mask in one hand, wand in the other. The hand with the mask in would have red knuckles, and though he already knew why, he found himself curious as to why they would be red. Nothing can be changed in a memory, merely understood. He would still remember his feelings as a child, yet his adult mind would feel and understand them too. Like being caught in a child's body, he could see everything from an adult view, but remember how he had seen them as a child. Even though he knew he didn't want to, because he knew what he would see and how it would hurt him, he could not change the fact that he followed his father down the stairs, remembering the feel of his hand against the wooden banister. He stood on the bottom step, seeing his mother pick herself up off the floor, a small amount of blood appearing on her lip. He didn't understand, why was she bleeding?
"Mother, are you alright?" He began to walk towards her in concern, only to be stopped by his father's cane that suddenly appeared in his path.
"Mother is fine, Severus. Tonight I want you to help me. In the study are some of my new friends. I want you to go and meet them. They have children your age that you can make friends with." His glance went back to his mother as she tried to force a smile. Then back to his father who seemed so tall. As a child he saw a flash of emotion in his father's eyes as he too looked at his mother. He didn't notice it then, but now he could see the charade. He could see it all.
"Yes father." Was all that he could say. In this mind he wanted to rush over to his mother, now understanding exactly what had happened, what would happen…
Then he was in the study. There were three people there, and two other children. Father introduced them, but he only remembered one name.
Lucius.
The small blonde boy had an air of elegance only a true pure born could have. His quiet confidence was alluring, he had no need for words, though when he did speak his voice just slid out of his throat, the words rounded and perfectly pronounced. There was no flaw to any aspect of this boy; he was in perfect control at all times. Severus was in awe of him.
"Severus, this is Lucius."
"It is a pleasure to meet you, Lucius."
"Likewise Severus." Was all that he said. There was no need for anything else.
"Severus, why don't you show Lucius your extensive book collection?" His father began. But the darker blonde man interrupted, his voice every bit as suave as his son's
"Snape, surely you should let the boy stay. There are things that we discuss that he may find… interesting… Lucius is always present with me at these… meetings… and he finds them somewhat interesting, don't you Lucius?"
"Of course Father. Nothing pleases me more." Severus found this boy amazing. What could his father be speaking of that he found so interesting? His father had started going out a lot recently with his new friends. He was barely ever at home. He had often heard his mother sob quietly so that nobody would hear her. Would he be able to go with his father to these appointments?
Suddenly his mother was there. The silver tray with silver cups and teapot was on the floor, the beige liquid now slinking steadily across the marble floor. His father's hand was still raised high above his head; his mother was once again on the floor, hands flat to the floor in an attempt to break her fall. Severus felt his face swell with anger but knew that it didn't show. He leapt forward and was by her side, his hand on her shoulders as his small voice asked her if she was alright. She didn't lift her head. He realised in his adult mind that she was ashamed. She didn't want him to hate his father.
Severus's young eyes rose to his father, whose hand had now lowered. His child eyes couldn't see the obvious pain etched on his face, the thin mask of indifference barely covering up the self disgust. He heard everybody chuckle and laugh, and watched as his father tried to laugh as well. But his child's eyes couldn't see the act.
"Father! What have you done?"
"I do not need to explain myself to you, Severus; nothing I do is without reason." Now he could see his father's eyes boring down into his, preying that his son would understand. But the 9 year old Severus Snape didn't.
"How could you!" He shouted, and much to the other guests amusement, stood and raced towards his father, who simply caught him by the wrist, sending a sharp pain up his arm.
"You wear your emotions on your sleeve, Severus. You will learn that a mistake like that can cost you your life." He let go, pushing him away. "Now leave us. Take Lucius upstairs and show him your books." Severus turned and returned to his mother, who was now nearly standing. "Severus, leave her. Do as you are told."
"I will do as you tell me no longer!" He shouted back in defiance. The guests waited, intrigued by how Snape senior would resolve this matter.
"Son, you must do as I say. Do not make me force you."
"No!" Was all Severus could think to shout back.
"Severus…" Came the gentle voice of his mother. "Do as he asks."
"But mother…"
"Severus please." She begged. He turned and looked at his father one more time before turning on his heel to leave the room.
The young Severus closed the doors to the study and leaned against them. It was only then that he looked up to see the face of Hermione Granger looking at him, hands clasped to her mouth.
Suddenly his world went black, and was rebuilt into the cold darkness that was the Forbidden Forest. Snape lowered his hands as Hermione opened her eyes.
"You're… you're father used to…"
"No, Miss Granger. Not for fun. My father was not like that. As you can tell, he joined the Death Eaters when I was 9. To prove his worth to the group and power he would have to treat my mother that way whenever they came to visit. I was too young to see the charade that it was, and how it pained my father to touch my mother like that. As a result, I hated my father from that moment on. He would not explain to me why he did any of it."
"I don't think that I understand…"
"My father did not choose to join the Death Eaters and live under Lord Voldemort's rule. He was forced. I do not know the full circumstances, all I know, as I later found out, was that he did it to save his family's lives."
"And that is how you met…"
"Lucius, yes. From a young age he was interested in the Dark Arts, as was his father, and his father before him. I know that you are thinking that that memory has no relevance to the answers that you seek. But it does. It is highly significant. I have been privy to hiding emotions and double lifestyles since a young age. It has become somewhat a way of life for me. "
"What happened afterwards? Did Lucius go upstairs with you?"
"Yes. Eventually he did. He tried to explain to me that women are inferior. That they are supposed to be treat like that because they were useful for nothing else except one thing that his father had not yet told him. His calm elegance almost won me over, and for a few shameful hours he did convince me that my father was right. Then when he left, my father tried to explain his actions. But I would not listen to him. I remembered my mother's silent tears hitting the marble, and I hated him as soon as I saw his sunken face, the dark rings around his eyes inspired nothing but contempt and I gave no thought as to why they were there."
"I hated him for 7 long years. He took me to the death eater meetings, but only because he had to. He didn't want me involved. He tried half heartedly to get my involved. But I was never overly interested. Not unless Lucius was there. I admired him; he made everything sound so right. They would start off talking about muggles and muggle borns, then as I got older they would say what they wanted to do to them, and how, and why. Every time I saw Lucius, I would agree entirely to everything that they suggested. Looking back, I can see my father's disgust as I agreed and laughed at their cruel jokes about the things they did. Lucius just had such a way of putting things; it was like I was under a spell whenever I was around him. I agreed entirely with him and his morals. Then he would leave, and I would hate myself for thinking such things. I would see my mother tending to her bruised face, an imprint of someone's knuckle on her delicate features. And I would remember how special people can be, no matter who they are. But Lucius would come back; with his alluring sense of appeal… it was nothing more than a vicious circle."
"7 years I hated him. But I failed to see that it was all an act. And I also failed to see that I was becoming the very thing that I hated every time I was with Lucius. And it was only on his last night alive that I realised exactly what he had done for me and my mother, and why. But by then it was too late. I was turning into the very thing he had tried to save me from. By the time I really my mistakes, it was too late. He never lived to see my regret. I will never know if he forgave me." He stopped as he read the look on Miss Granger's face. Her breath appeared on the night air, yet she did not shiver. "Are you ready to see more? Or have you had enough?" He already knew her answer as he stepped forward again, his hands resting gently against her temples as he waited for his world to go black again.
Ok, too long? whatdayathink? I know that some people may found found ita bit boring... well.. sorry but get over it. THANK YOU TO ALL MY LOVELY REVIEWERS! --big kisses and Oreos all around!--