first of all I want to clarify something about the name. I hade som names in mind and each of my dear friends choose one. so honouring both of them, I used both names.
secondly, I didn't want to write a fanfic at first. it was a roleplay with chtgpt, but it turned out so emotional and I rewrote it as a fanfic here.
and thirdly, english my second language, so there might be some mistakes with grammar or how the words should be used. I hope you enjoy it either way.
It was after Christmas holidays, as students unpacked their suitcases, someone knocked on Snape's door. He lifted his head"who is it?"
A young voice of a 13 year's old girl, respondes in a low voice"Marya Leavitt sir."
Snape sighted as he reckoned his student"come in' as the door closed behind her, he continued"Miss Leavitt... I recall your name—barely. I trust you haven't been wasting your time fraternizing with imbeciles from Gryffindor House. What is it you require from me? Be quick. I don't entertain dithering."
There was a scar on her face, a big and fresh one. He narrows his eyes, gaze shifting with sharp calculation as he finally takes in the faint but fresh scarring.
"Did the headmaster talk with you about my potions project?"
"He did for sure, but for now– Those scars weren't there before. I may be many things, Miss Leavitt, but blind is not one one of them. Who did that? And do not insult my intelligence by claiming it was a broom mishap or just an accident. You know full well that scars of that nature are not the result of anything so mundane."
She paused for a minute, then stepped ahead and showed her arm. Her eyes were full of anxiety and fear. Heer arm... There was a bite mark on it. Other scars around it.
Snape's breath hissed through his teeth; barely audible, but unmistakable. He stepped closer with a sudden sharpness, black eyes narrowing on the jagged wound like a hawk spotting prey"how long ago?" He seized her wrist, not gently, but not with cruelty either; as he inspected the scar"You were bitten, Miss Leavitt. That is no scrape from some wild beast. I know precisely what it is. I've seen it too many times to mistake it. And now you want to learn to brew wolfsbane potion, do you even think? You want to use the wolfsbane brewed in a school cauldron by a third-year? Do you have any idea how close you are to disaster?"
She didn't answer. She just started at the floor with eyes full of tears and fear. He released her hand, slowly.
"Sit down. Now. We are no longer discussing a project. You're going to tell me everything, from the night you were bitten, to the pathetic excuse of care you've likely received since. If anyone has been hiding this... I will handle it. And you, Miss Leavitt; you will be getting Wolfsbane. But not from your own hand. From mine."
Her voice was as low as a whisper, trembling in anxiety and pain. A pain not from her scars but from her soul."I... Well it was the summer, just a month ago, August. I... They had beef with my father... He was hard to reach..." Her voice grew cold. "It was just a reminder. I know I should take the potion. I know I'm a monster and I know I put students in danger with being at school but... I have nowhere else to go"
Snape turned slowly, the fabric of his robes whispering as he moved, like the rustle of a curtain before a storm. His back was to her for a long moment before he spoke;his voice brittle, but controlled. "You will not call yourself that in my presence again. Monster? No. You're a child a Slytherin with the misfortune of bearing a curse crafted by cowards. Do you think I haven't heard this before? Do you think I haven't seen this exact spiral?" He turned back to face her, eyes dark and unreadable, his tone now void of cruelty; only cold clarity. "I've brewed Wolfsbane for a man far less disciplined than you. You're not the first to walk these halls under moonlight with something cursed in your blood, and you may not be the last. But if you ever withhold something this critical again, I will expel you myself before you can blink. Now..."
He sat behind his desk, his gaze pierced through her soul. "You will take Wolfsbane, and you will report to me three days before every full moon. No excuses. No missing doses. If you miss one, you stay in the dungeons, locked down under my wards. Do you understand?"
Her eyes were full but she slowly nodded. "yes sir..."
"As for your scars; those not made by the werewolf. you'll tell me who gave you those as well. Because this is not just about a bite. Someone tried to finish what the beast began, didn't they?" He continued in a low voice. "Tell me the truth, Miss Leavitt. You're safe in this office. whether you believe it or not."
She swallowed hard and took a step back, fear ran through her vains, her heart raced." i... It's not like that..."
Snape's eyes narrowed at once, like shutters slamming shut behind a storm. His voice, when it came, was no longer low. it was a blade sliding across stone. " what are you trying to hide miss leavitt?"
she didn't say a thing. The silence filled the room. She could hear her heartbeat, fast, as if it was a trapped bird. she didn't know how to say it was herself. that she knew the spell and wished to die rather than being a werwolf. And even if she said the truth, why would Snape care? What would he do? Probably send her to some hospital for people who lost their minds. Or maybe something worse. Noone wanted a werewolf, let alone some insane ones who even hurt themselves.
The silence hung thick. oppressive. Snape stopped pacing. His hand gripped the back of a nearby chair, knuckles white. "...I see."
There was no contempt in his voice now; only the unbearable stillness of realization. He had seen that silence before, that hollow weight behind the eyes. And now, he knew. "You did it to yourself."
He turned slowly, walking back in front of her, eyes locked on hers now, merciless but not cruel."Sectumsempra isn't a spell of defense. It's a curse born of hatred; hatred of others, yes... but far more often, hatred of self." His voice dropped lower, but not softer."You think I don't recognize the signs? I've lived them. I invented them."
He sat across from her, robes settling heavily around him. "Listen to me. You are not broken. You are not wrong. And you are not going to die quietly under my watch. If you ever ever attempt to harm yourself again, I will strip every ounce of freedom from your schedule, chain your wand to my own hand if I must, and keep you within a ten foot radius of my presence until your idiocy wears off. Is that understood?"
She took a deep breath. Now he knew. And he didn't call her mad. He didn't call her insane nor tried to chain her in chambers, well, not yet at least. That was a good thing. She agreed with a fragile voice.
"You may leave now. Try to get some rest. You need that. You're body needs that... And leavitt. There is nothing noble in suffering in silence. That is not what makes one strong. That is what makes one a corpse."