Severus Snape: The Becoming

Intention

"Hello sir" Harry nodded at him as they sat awkwardly at their table in the middle of a ministry gala both wearing equal expressions of annoyance

Perhaps he had been wrong about Harry's search of the limelight. It certainly seemed as if the young man hated this just as much as him.

"How have you been Potter?" Severus asked, nodding at the paparazzi as they waited for the evening to end.

"Minus fighting off the media circus? Fine. I'm getting married soon" he smiled, motioning at Ginny Weasley across the room.

"Congratulations" Severus told him sincerely, taking a deep breath as the dance floor full of ministry patrons and elite began to exit the room.

It didn't escape him that Potter followed in his parent's footsteps of young love, commitment made before allegiance could even be tested.

He used to feel the intense burn of jealousy when confronted with other's happy relationships, their trust and love, but now he felt nothing.

Which felt infinitely worse.

"Severus, come with me" Minerva appeared out of the crowd, rescuing him from a torturous time fulfilling small talk with people who thought they deserved answers because they donated money

He nodded at the table and followed Minerva outside to a secluded area behind the rose bushes which filled his nostrils with their overbearing sweetness

"I want you to come back to teach when you're finished with your parole" she explained, stubbornness etched on her features

He breathed deeply. He had no inclination to go back to teaching. He didn't want to be around students. The solace that potions making afforded him was just what he sought. The mere glimpse of life back into walking those halls filled him with dread. Plus, the parents would stage an uprising. A former death eater teaching their children how to brew spells capable of life and death

"I can't Minerva. I appreciate your offer but my life is different now. I can't walk those corridors again. I'm haunted enough as it is here, I can't imagine being back in those walls" he explained, anxiety making his palms sweat

"But you're the best. Whatever you want, I'll make sure you get" she pressed, smiling hopefully at him

"Desperately appealing to my ego?" he retorted, secretly satisfied that she sought after his expertise

"You know I don't do that" she admonished him, sighing in forfeiture

"I need to move on. I am no longer the winged demon of the dungeons" he added gently, awkwardly patting her shoulder

"I understand. I needed to try. I won't give up" she rose, promising to see him soon

He felt the rising panic and memories rushing to the surface and he quickly disapparated back to his home. He jumped at a heavy knock as he  slipped his shoes into their place beside the door

"What do you want?" he demanded sharply to Aysel, standing in his doorway with her hair in a messy top knot

"I want to talk" she said with her chin up, preparing for a fight

"We don't have anything to talk about. You've made it clear what you think of me" he crossed his arms, rolling his eyes at her

"But I want to know more" she pressed, taking a step forward

"What makes you think you deserve more? Where's Solomon?" he countered, not budging from his spot against the doorframe

"With my mother for the weekend. I saved your life" she tilted her chin up further in defiance, as if that fact meant something

"And? I didn't ask you to do that. I didn't ask you for anything. I don't enter into relationships based on expected reciprocity. If you chose to "save" me because of how it would look for you, or because you would have leverage over me then you are just as bad a person as you think I am" he stated coldly, angered at her insinuation that he owed her a damn thing

"I saw injustice. I'm a good person. A lesser one would have let you go to Azkaban" she threw back, fists balled

"A good person doesn't need to flaunt their goodness. Are you only good because of how you think it makes you appear? Doing what is right because of some need for glory? You're just a liar then. Intention is key" he stepped back, ready to shut the door in her face.

"Most people would be grateful to the person who helped them get a second chance at life" came her petulant reply

"Grateful? To have every aspect of my life paraded about? My deepest shame shown as proof that I am somehow a haunted man? Desperate for love and acceptance? Fearing for my life when I go into public? Living under lock and key? Everyday living with the fact that I am utterly alone and mostly because of my own doing? People not knowing whether they pity or fear me?

Grateful to have a random woman think she is owed something because she did the minimum effort of work at her job? Don't for one second think that I owe anyone a damn thing because I have spent my life in penance and servitude and I refuse to live under that oppression again.

Leave me alone" he growled at her, every nerve in his body on fire

"I just want to know why you spent two decades locked away, ready to take a death sentence for something you didn't even do. You must not think you are good either" she raised her voice, refusing to budge

"That's the difference between us. I know I'm not all good. I have inclinations that have led me to dark places. I have followed through with them. I know what evil is. We all have it within us. You are naive enough to believe you aren't. Who cares what the world thinks about our souls? You're the only one who has to live with yourself.  I've lived with myself long enough to see that" he shifted his weight, arms still crossed

"I did the right thing" she pushed, all his logic seemingly flying over her head

"For the wrong reasons. You won't understand me until you look truthfully at yourself. But perhaps that's too difficult for you because maybe then you'll be forced to see that your whole life has been a lie. That you are just the same self serving paper pusher as everyone else. You found a way to make yourself seem important because you saw me as a stepping stone. But I am no one's claim to fame. Glory seekers rarely find what they're searching for. Think about that before you speak to me again" he nearly whispered, anger surfacing as he slammed the door shut in her shocked face

He was tired of being used for other's plans. He had lived his life in debt and he refused to do it anymore. Not one person knew who he truly was. His soul firmly encased in stone and he wouldn't begin to chip away at the structure for anyone.