Of Snake Bites and Dittany Cures
by Iva1201
Chapter 13: Corruption
A/N: Many thanks to excessivelyperky for betaing this for you and me! (-:
ooooo
Harry spent only a few seconds in Snape's mind and the boy got just a glimpse of the man's childhood memory. Seeing his scolding Aunt Petunia as a girl drew Harry's attention first, following by the younger version of his mother – but what had really shocked him out of his wits was the young Snape shaking hands with who had very clearly been Harry's grandparents. Suddenly nauseated, Harry willed the connection to end there and then, not caring to see any more of the horrifying recollection.
For a moment, the boy felt like he would really vomit; his shaking body stayed upright only due to the charm Snape had used to glue his body to the chair. Harry absolutely avoided looking up, for the mere thought of finding there the no doubt self-satisfied smirking face of the murdering bastard who had once known! his family turned his guts.
Lily Evans had obviously not been a stranger to the boy Snape, not just some closely unacquainted member of an inimical Hogwarts House. No, they must have known each other fairly well when Snape friendly! shook hands with Harry's grandparents for a good-bye – probably at least as well as Harry knew the Weasleys. And still Snape had killed her... The bastard killed Harry's mum – and dad – without a thought, telling his damned dark master about Trelawney's prophecy without as much as a twitch of conscience.
Bitterly, Harry recalled how much he had feared for Ginny back when Tom Riddle's diary had possessed her. She had been just Ron's little sister to him at that time, whom he had not even known well – and yet, yet his only thought down in the Chamber then had been to save her, no matter what the cost for him.
The present Harry wanted to scream, to punch the older man sitting so calmly opposite him – until he bled, until he hurt as much as Harry did – until Harry's parents got their revenge! But here he sat, a hostile spell holding him firmly in place, keeping him from doing anything at all – aside from screaming in rage or hurting the man with his own weapon – words.
The boy decided on the latter. Eyes directed rather on the hands folded in his lap than Snape, he whispered, voice full of unsuppressed emotion, "I hate you."
Surprisingly, Snape answered with a similarly weak voice, with something almost like regret in that low voice. Harry refused to acknowledge even the possibility of such a feeling from the other man's part. "I know, Potter. Trust me, I know," the dark man acknowledged Harry's hatred; an unhappy smile playing on his narrow lips.
"You killed her," Harry added unnecessary, still speaking quietly. He finally shot a straight glance up at the older man's face, shocked to find it drawn of all colour. Anger overpowered him at that sight and tone of the man's voice from before, both so unbelievable to him. The boy insulted Snape, his hateful voice dripping sarcasm: "Pretending to feel regret, sir? There is no need for that with me – I am no Albus Dumbledore to fall on it, have you forgotten!"
Harry gave a crooked smile before continuing, starting to enjoy his little tantrum. "Honestly, I am also not particularly interested in turning into one – to let you kill me and then hang day by day as a portrait on your wall, having to act as if nothing was wrong with you being the Head of this school? No, thank you – the idea actually rather sickens me, Snape! More importantly even, you are not worth the trouble, you see, Professor?" Harry's voice cut, his tone whipping the older man, while the boy-saviour's face brightened in twisted triumph.
Snape eyed Harry with deep detestation once the boy's speech was over, all his good intentions disappearing for the moment. "You don't need to tell me all that, Potter. I am quite aware of my deeds," the man pronounced icily, staring at his young companion in displeasure.
Damn! We don't have time for this conflict now! Snape swore inwardly, too well aware that this borrowed time ran as fast as the real clock.
Harry answered solely with twisting his lips again – as if suppressing a sneer. Snape frowned at his simpering face; at the deep desire of the boy to wound him that stared at him from Potter's – from Lily's! – painfully familiar green eyes. Suddenly wanting to repay the boy in the same coin, the man leaned back in his chair and said, speaking quietly but emphasizing each word, while hating himself for using Lily in such a twisted way: "Concerning your mother, Potter – she didn't have to die, you know. It would have fully sufficed for her to hand you over to the Dark Lord – and she could have lived. Doesn't that make us both guilty of her demise? Although, believe me, I am well aware of my sins against her."
Harry let out a humourless laugh at this answer, refusing to react to Snape's unjust accusation. "Sins, Professor?" he asked better, shaking head in disbelief."You just don't call them that normally, do you, Snape? She was after all only a Mudblood to you – and my father, and Dumbledore – just how would you call them? Mudblood lovers, isn't that, sir?" Harry's green eyes adopted a hateful expression now, the boy's insides boiling with anger. "I have already known all this, you see? No need to tell me twice!"
"What else would you like to teach me, Professor? The Unforgivables, perhaps? I know I would profit from knowing how to cast the Killing Curse; actually, I even have an excellent test-subject right here…"Harry returned to whispering, the wrath finally taking over in him and he willingly submitting to the Darkness swirling in his insides. He knew he was being corrupted but he no longer cared. Haven't I always known that killing Voldemort would require from me to learn Dark Magic? Why not to use it to battle Snape, too? Harry thought, his eyes glistering in dark triumph – his somewhat mad look greatly disturbing the man opposite to him.
ooooo