The Rise of a Snape

A Terrible Distraction

 Dark walls. Stupidly dark, damp walls, with bottles varying in shapes and colors lining the shelves, remnants of ingredients dusting the damp floor.

All a distraction.

Lily had made a huge, terribly obvious distraction- an illusion of a boy to keep him far, far away from the truth.

Had she obliviated him?

That girl should have been in Slytherin, he thought, not without longing and a tinge of bitterness.

"The truth," his mother would say, "Always comes with a grain of salt."

When he was younger, he would argue with her, but now, so much later, she would be terribly satisfied to know that she had spoken the bitter truth.

Stupid, stupid life.

Why is it always me?

He closed his eyes, hoping to forget the reason that he was curled up on the dungeon floors, why he had sought refuge in this dark and familiar place.

The boy would probably have found out now.

He knew that the wolf had been so, so worried about Lily's- no James'- son. When they found out the truth-

Granted, he had been shaken, too.

I am too much of a coward to face him.

Even Lupin, the friend of his childhood bullies who had never tried to prevent those horrible pranks and taunts had the heart to look, look at the boy with Lily's face and say the words.

"Severus,"

He didn't bother turning around to face the old goat. Footsteps on the dungeon floor resonated through the space.

"Severus, I have learned the news, my boy."

He could just picture Albus' all-knowing gaze from behind his half-moon glasses.

"You didn't see him, did you," he replied bitingly.

"Harry?" Albus replied, voice heavy, "No, I did not."

"I'd thought not," Severus muttered darkly, "he tore apart your office last time around when the mutt died, I'd hate to see what happens this time around."

Albus didn't bother to contradict him.

"You will have too, my boy," he replied, sounding tired, "Harry needs you."

Anger. Anger at the stupid world- anger at stupid Lupin- anger at Lily, yes, Lily for this terrible, terrible distraction.

"He shouldn't need me, Albus," Severus snarled, turning to face the old goat's twinkling eyes, and then after a thought, "Did you know?" he demanded.

Albus remained silent.

"You did, didn't you," he snarled, "all these years of secrets, all these bloody years of spying, for your sorry Order, and I am tired, tired of this Dumbledore."

Albus lowered his eyes.

"I have made many mistakes, my boy," he said quietly, "I did not know the details of the circumstances, but I do not deny-"

"Yet, you knew something." Severus shouted, standing up to face the Headmaster, who was looking into his eyes with sorrow, "You could have told me!"

Not feeling satisfied with this, he continued in anger, "This would compromise my position as a spy, this would never have happened- I could have actually spoken to him, my son, and you knew all along, Dumbledore, why did you not tell me?"

Fists clenched, a draft in the room chilling the men to the bone.

"It would have torn you apart, Severus." Albus whispered, looking more tired than ever, looking up to meet his dark gaze.

"No it wouldn't-" Severus started, stepping forward in a rage.

"You are a lot like him you know," Albus cut in gently, "he most definitely has your temper."

There was a tense silence.

"We have to go to him, Severus," Albus continued, "to explain."

Severus shook his head.

"There is nothing to explain," he growled. And then, on a softer note, "she probably obliviated me."

"But still, Severus," Albus looked carefully into his eyes, "he deserves at least that much."

For a moment, Severus forgot that this was Harry Potter, the arrogant son of his childhood enemy, the bane of his existence-

Maybe because he was something different. No- that wasn't it- it was because he wasn't Harry Potter anymore.

Don't be stupid, he rebuked himself as Albus turned to walk away.

Albus' words still rang in his head.

He deserves at least that much.