Never Follow a Black Cat
CW: character death
It started, as these things usually do, with a bang. Well, not really. If we want to be particularly pedantic, it started further back – back when the first land-roving mammals began laying the foundation for larger and more advanced civilisations to grow. This is a tale repeated over the whole course of history and found generations over. The same eyes fill with the same ebb and flow of emotions and reason time and time over. The point of the story isn't to learn, but to never stop repeating it. This is a tale of change. It is also a tale of tragedy.
Regardless, it started with a bang.
Severus Snape hated muggles. Ill-mannered and uncouth creatures who didn't know their place, in his opinion. Some people didn't agree with him – trying to tell him about muggles' 'innovation in the face of a magicless existence' and their 'charming yet incorrect ideas of magic' and their 'fascinating approach to warfare'. Some people, however, were wrong. Severus cared not whether that made him a Death Eater. He'd done his time, got the tattoo etc. As far as anyone was concerned anyway, he was reformed.
(The comment about warfare had intrigued him when a fellow professor had told him about it over lunch, so he'd gone to the nearest muggle library the next day to research and - after flipping through several illustrated volumes – had decided to never follow the advice of Charity Burbage again).
Muggles may have been bad, but muggleborns? Muggleborns were worse. There was only one muggleborn Severus would ever condescend to talk to, and she'd died years ago. Adolescent infatuation does wonders to the growing male mind and that was one of the many reasons Severus despised teenage boys too. Thinking about it, there weren't many things Severus didn't despise. The worst part was, regardless how much he despised it, his love for Lily Evans remained. His love for her son though...that was a different story. If there was one word that could describe it, it would be this; Non-existent.
Harry. Potter.
The wonder kid and his moronic entourage was the main reason (besides Charity Burbage) for Severus' dependence on pain relief potions. His unruly mop of hair was a poor homage to the majesty of Lily's amber halo, though his emerald eyes – almost exact copies of his mother's – redeemed him a little. That didn't mean Severus liked him any. Unfortunately, he had promised to protect the darned boy and the lingering feelings for his muggleborn sweetheart prevented him from tossing destiny in the ditch. He didn't have to be nice though. Muggle blood always shone through. Especially when that muggle blood is marred further with Potter genes.
It made sense that the second generation of Potter man to sour Severus' existence would surround himself with mudbloods and blood traitors, Severus thought to himself as he strode through the dungeons towards his personal staff quarters. Like father, like son; the apple doesn't fall far from the tree and this particular tree was shaded indeed.
He turned the corner. Another murky stone corridor. Something almighty clattered down the hall. Severus sped up.
Halfway along the corridor lay a downed suit of armour. Already it was pulling itself together, muttering something barely intelligible underneath all the clanging and scraping of metal on metal. Severus swished past it, making sure his cloak didn't touch any part of the armour as it stumbled to its feet. Anyone else would conclude that the blustering armour had simply tripped but this was Hogwarts and Severus knew better. Nothing was ever simple.
Sure enough, further down the corridor, through a slightly ajar classroom door, a student stifled sobs. Severus fingered the door open. At first glance; A normal potions classroom. A little dusty but in basic working order. There was a blackboard at the front of the room covered with a threadbare cloth, ingredients of the wolfsbane potion scribed on it and showing through the cloth. At second glance there was a wisp of dirt brown hair poking up over one of the desks.
"Show yourself or I will ensure Filch is in charge of your detention." Severus didn't take this sort of threat likely and would absolutely follow through. Sure enough, the student scrabbled to stand, almost hitting their head on the desk they were using as cover in their haste.
Severus growled internally. "Granger. Pray tell what you are doing so far away from your den." It wasn't a question. Severus didn't do questions.
The Gryffindor golden girl struggled to talk and that was when Severus saw the swelling. In bulbous letters across her face, raised and red raw, read the word 'MUDBLOOD'. Severus' indigestion chose that moment to complain about his dinner. He scowled.
He waved his hand dismissively. "Nevermind. I don't care for whatever drivel you would no doubt spout." He made sure to arch his eyebrow particularly high. "Now get out of my sight before I am forced to send you to the Forbidden Forest."
As she rushed past him, Severus rubbed at his gurgling stomach discretely. He grimaced; He'd always hated Hogwarts meatloaf.
At the end of the corridor, Granger burst into sobs.
No-one ever said change was easy. Change oftentimes passes us by without us so much as noticing the moment is happening. The point isn't for every moment to incur change, but for enough to. When too many of these moments pass us by, we stagnate, and stagnation is a death sentence for change. The thing to know about Severus Snape was that he wasn't a very warm person. He showed love very differently compared to the average person. He'd never had a pet (toads don't count when one only has them to test potions on) and he'd never really had friends. Lily Evans had intrigued him. He loved her for her naivety. Her passion for all things was admirable in one of such low standing, especially considering her lack of proper pureblooded education.
He'd been young and dumb and had fancied himself in love. That had been his downfall and there wasn't a day he didn't curse his foolishness. If he hadn't let his infatuation get the better of him, he never would have made such a sloppy mistake.
"Mudblood!"
The moment haunts him still. It's there in the darkest hour when not even the owls are hunting anymore, and it's in the mirror every time he sees emotion slip into his eyes the instant before he shutters it away again. His greatest mistake. His final weakness.
It never should have happened and if he'd been stronger, it never would have. It was all Potter's fault. If Potter hadn't pushed him – if he hadn't decided he wanted Lily for himself, then Severus would never have had to mourn what he'd never had. He would've had Lily, and he would've been happy. Lily would still be alive and Harry would never have been born. How dare Potter exist while Lily rotted in the ground.
"Eat slugs!"
Trust a Weasley to be so grotesque. Severus marched across the field and grabbed Malfoy by the shoulder. He scowled at Weasley, who was now spewing great brown slugs over his shoes. A mixture of saliva and slug slime dripped from his lips and was soaking the collar of his Quidditch uniform. Severus' stomach twisted. This situation was seeming all too familiar suddenly. He wasn't deaf. He knew what the Slytherin team had been saying. It was just none of his business.
He turned his head from the sight and nonchalantly said, "Get him out of here Potter – if you can manage that without starting another fight."
He tightened his grip on Malfoy's shoulder and steered him away. Malfoy jeered with his teammates as they left the stadium. He turned to Severus as they entered the Slytherin changing room – his eyes shone with glee. "Did you see that professor? Filthy blood traitor got what he deserved."
Severus didn't say anything. He was starting to regret that second bowl of fairy soup. It had never sat well with his stomach.
He left the Slytherin team to their jeering and started on the path to his quarters, intent on imbuing an indigestion potion the second he got back – it was getting quite uncomfortable. Maybe he'd even pour himself a glass of firewhiskey.
Yes. That would be nice.
Opportunity is a fickle thing. It's not well recognised by the common man and as such is often ignored. Most opportunities aren't even what one would expect; Instead of money and good-fortune, they are opportunities of change – though in essence, they are one and the same.
Where the common man falls down is in expecting only opportunities of physical value rather than of moralistic value. The world would be a much different place, one supposes, if more opportunities of moral value were embraced. That being said, the world also be a much different place if no opportunity of any value was taken at all.
There are absolutely opportunities one should never, under any circumstances, take and too many of those particular opportunities had been taken in the last few years.
Draco Malfoy was a shell of the boy he was last year. That comes of having the Dark Lord residing in the very halls you fell asleep in as a newborn babe, Severus supposes. Lucius was a fool for ever thinking his son would be up to the challenge. To kill the most powerful wizard of this generation? Not even Severus would be stupid enough to accept that task. Though he was smart enough to never get into the position where that would be an option in the first place. Mostly.
Severus was only doing this for Narcissa.
The hallway was empty. It always was. Draco was thinner than the last time they'd met and his cheekbones were growing ever prominent. His eyes, however, were wild and frantic. They darted across Severus' face and down his chin and back. He licked his lips.
"Couldn't I ask the Order for help?" he asked. His gaze hovered somewhere around Severus' left ear. "Surely - surely they'd understand, right? They wouldn't hurt me too badly if I turned myself in, right?"
Severus swallowed uncomfortably. Some things can never be undone and the Mark was one of them. Severus knew that all too well. Once you had it, you had to be 100% in because you'd never escape.
"Mal-"
Draco lunged forward and grabbed Severus' robes. "Please, sir. There must be something I can do." He licked his lips again, manic. "I don't even care about his stupid blood politics. Muggleborn, half-blood – it's all the same red! I don't want to kill anyone!"
Severus shoved Malfoy off him and pushed him against the wall. Malfoy stared at him with wide eyes. Severus hissed coldly, "Do you think that matters? Do you think the Dark Lord cares what you think? Do you think the Order cares what you think?" He grabbed Malfoy by the wrist and dragged it to his face. Malfoy struggled against him wordlessly. "This." He pulled back Malfoy's sleeve. The black tendrils of the Mark became visible. "One look at this and the Order will label you a Death Eater and treat you the same they would your father."
Malfoy tugged his arm back. His eyes looked devoid of hope now. Severus let go and stepped back. Malfoy straightened himself up, pulling his robes flat. He disappeared down the hall in a flurry of robes and left Severus feeling, for the first time, that maybe there was something else he should have said.
Severus felt something in him break but it was too late now. The war was upon them and everyone had to fight to survive. Whether you were strong enough to handle the lot you were given was up to you.
His blood pooled around the cracks in Potter's fingers and dribbled down his arm. Severus' shirt and robes were already soaked through but now he was getting blood all over Potter's too. Granger knelt beside him, on the other side to where Potter desperately held his hands to Severus' neck, but she was frowning at Potter. She knew what Severus did. This was where he died.
There was one last thing he needed to do.
"Take them." He gestured at the tears rolling down his cheek. His voice was a whisper. "Please."
fin.
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Round 1 for QLFC season 10
Team: Montrose Magpies
Position: Captain
Prompt: Black Cat – Write about seeing something through someone else's eyes.
Word count: 2065
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A/N: I decided that the prompt would be left 'unfullfilled' in a way because the character never actually learns to see things from someone else's eyes. Severus's refusal to change and the see things from a different perspective is ultimately his downfall so the prompt is still very much the theme of the piece, however the character refuses to cooperate with the calling to change.