Harry Potter - Series Fan Fiction ❯ Inside me. ❯ Talking before his face. ( Chapter 10 )

Disclaimer - Harry Potter and associated characters and settings still belong to J K Rowling and associates. I'm just making them dance like puppets to my tune.

 

This chapter contains mild misogyny and swearing, please be warned if your natures is such you are likely to be offended. I'm depicting teenagers here and however well they turn out in the end they tend to go through a rude, unkind phase. Acdo is a brand of washing powder, first produced in 1919. Judging from the description of Snape's house in HBP it was initially a two-up-two-down terrace with a small yard. Most of these ended up having tiny lean to extensions built to add an inside bathroom. These are usually accessed through the kitchen and remain a fairly common feature of terraces of this type.

 

I apologise for the irregularity of my updates. This fic is still being written; I've not given up on it. However, due to off-line life being unpredictable there is no update schedule at the moment.

 

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

 

A tea-stained, crumpled edition of the previous day's Daily Prophet comically lurched through the air, perching on the heads of occupants of the Slytherin common room at random. Lucius Malfoy eyed the charmed object with a certain wariness that one rapidly learned to adopt in the presence of its creator, after due consideration he came to the conclusion that Severus was in what passed for a playful mood in him. It was difficult to tell if one merely looked at the boy as he bent industriously over several thick tomes, occupied in writing an in-depth comparison of teapots transfigured from carrots and those transfigured from bathing costumes. Lucius felt a vague pang of unaccustomed depression as he considered the fact that someone somewhere had decided to study the esoteric field of swimwear-to-tableware transfigurations and in such depth as to produce such a weighty series of books. He noticed that Severus was busily thumbing through volume eight.

 

The fact that the younger boy could apparently maintain a fairly advanced animation charm while apparently engrossed in research only served to strengthen Lucius' conviction that he had been correct in mentoring the hideous little wretch. Even now his eyebrows were drawn together in a forbidding frown and a sneering smile twisted his mouth, truly an unlovely creature, but a useful one. Such thoughts did not stop him from imperiously sending Severus on a menial errand. Severus made several cutting remarks, including a rather impolite enquiry as the whether Lucius' legs were broken and if not, did he want that rectifying? He obeyed Lucius' demand anyway though.

 

`Cheer up, Jim me old mucker, she'll fall for your charms sooner or later if you just keep on trying.' Sirius consoled his friend optimistically.

 

`Maybe you could try not setting him up on dates with other girls, Sirius.' Remus sighed wearily. `I'm pretty sure girls don't like being asked out on a date by a boy who's only just got back from going to Hogsmeade with another girl.'

 

Peter nodded. `Girls like to feel special, not like they're another chocolate frog card to collect.' He added, emboldened by Remus' observation.

 

Both boys flinched back from Sirius' reaction to such a viewpoint. The taller boy had whipped around and pinned them with a glare, demonstrating the famous Black temper. `Don't be such a pair of woofters; girls like to know that the bloke asking them out is a proper man, virile. It's all about survival of the fittest and all!'

 

Applause filtered down to the four energetic youths `How charmingly Neanderthal in outlook of you.' A disdainful treble voice remarked, the mocking note ringing loud in his tone. In retrospect Severus realised that it had been a monumentally foolish observation to make and that provoking his rivals was singularly unintelligent. It did not, however, warrant the swift retaliation that ensued.

 

`Shut up, Snivellus, you great ponce.' James snarled drawing his wand in an eyeblink, enraged by the other boy's taunt. Next to him Sirius automatically backed him up, standing by his friend. Coordinated due to their duelling practice they both cast Expelliarmus. Lupin looked on with a sense of weary inevitability, unmoved by Snape's taunts this time and too tired to join the fray. Severus blocked James and Sirius' spells apparently without much difficulty, but failed to notice the stealthily cast powerful itching hex Peter had sent from him lurking place at the back of the group. Snape was an especial sore point for Peter who presented a frequent target to Snape due to neither being a particularly gifted duellist like James and Sirius, nor having the instant recall of DADA and quick reflexes of Remus.

 

The itching hex hit its intended target, sending Snape into spasms and setting him moaning with the uncomfortable sensation. Taking advantage of the moment of distraction, Sirius grinned his thanks to Peter's lateral thinking, then stepped forward, simply snatching Snape's wand from his lax hold and punching the boy in the nose with his other fist.

 

Severus' head snapped back and he was aware of the gruesome sensation of his nose breaking. The pain and shock set his eyes watering and he staggered back, trying to glare at his aggressors, who chose to spend the moment singing an old ditty they'd composed `Snivellus the cry-baby'. The familiar rage that stalked the edge of his awareness coalesced and Remus sucked in his breath in a gasp as he felt the unstable power coalesce about the other. Satanically black eyes burned with inhuman fury as he shrieked like a banshee and hurled himself bodily at the four shocked Gryffindor boys, punching, scratching, flailing - each touch of his hands searing flesh.

 

James and Sirius were trying desperately to pin Snape, but their spells and hands could not pin the enraged boy. Peter had doused them all in water, trying to cool them all down after Snape's hands fixed around his throat for a brief moment, burning his flesh. Lupin battled through the steam, wondering desperately where in Merlin's name the staff was to have failed to notice what was turning into a full-scale riot. He took in a deep breath, marshalling his thoughts and gathering magical strength before he launched a powerful binding charm he'd found in one of the books Professor Flitwick had allowed him to borrow for research purposes. Snape was hurled back against the wall, head meeting the stone with a sick crack. Pinned to the stone, eyes wild, hair and clothes dishevelled, coated in blood and with a look of one baying for blood, Remus could see exactly why the Slytherin was rarely viewed favourably by the authorities in disputes. He panted, his energy drained by the charm, then turned to look at his friends. They'd all escaped severe hurt by some amazing chance. `We ought to get to the hospital wing, those burns look nasty.'

 

The others nodded, trembling slightly from shock and the after-effects of the combat. All were severely shaking by the sheer scope of Snape's overreaction. `Black-hearted freak. Just crawl back to your snakepit and go back to tossing off your Malfoy.' Sirius snarled, James adding similar sentiments as they limped away as fast as they could.

 

Severus was left abandoned in the corridor immobilised, injured and enraged. By the time the charm dissipated he was hardly in a better temper and he stormed back to the Slytherin rooms, commanded Malfoy to `stick it [the errand] up your arse' and marched up to the shower room to clean himself off before bed. As the hot water carried away the blood, snot and tears Severus cradled the poisonous rage accumulating within his belly to himself. One day he would have his vengeance in full, come Hell or high water, all those fools would learn their lesson and would pay dearly for the suffering inflicted upon him. As he lay in bed, sobs of pain and fury unheard by his peers due to a silencing charm Severus felt apprehension gathering in his chest. Hogwarts was supposed to he a safe haven from the persecution he received in the outside world. Somehow he doubted that he would get even the smallest measure of respite this year, having provoked the Gryffindor oafs so badly. He was unsure whether to be relieved or fearful when he realised that in but a few short weeks he was to return home for the summer. It would be the first time he returned since his dramatic exit during the Christmas holiday.

 

As it turned out, the return home was almost welcome in comparison with the last few weeks of the summer term. His display of powerful, malevolent natural magic in such a bluntly offensive fashion had quickly become common knowledge. That combined with the existing conceived wisdom of Slytherin being the breeding ground of evil and his own foul temper and habit of failing to suffer company in a congenial manner simply provided yet more grist for the rumour mill. With news of strange frightening events and Death Eater attacks coming in nearly daily with the newspapers the natural hostility many held towards Severus increased a dozen-fold. Chattering girls did not even bother to wait until his back was turned before gossiping and many a cocksure boy (and the occasional vengeful girl who'd lost loved ones to Dark activities) took pot shots at him behind the teachers' backs.

 

With such provocation Severus drew deeper upon those abilities considered natural to a Slytherin, stealth and cunning. He stopped eating in public and persuaded portraits and suits of armour to give up secrets of the school so as to negotiate its labyrinthine hallways without encountering other pupils. Naturally he could not hope to guard against all fights ands pranks and of course his housemates frowned heavily upon any pupil who lost points and caused difficulties for the rest of the house. The constant duelling, watchfulness and stealth were taking their toll, rendering his less than conventionally aesthetic features almost inhuman. He'd lost weight and the famously greasy hair was oft coated in foul substances, his clothes were torn and fouled and his resentful black eyes glinted from bruised, red-rimmed sockets.

 

Upon her son's arrival home, Eileen Snape took one look at the boy and demanded that he strip at once and bath. She retrieved a pair of pyjamas from his room, hoping that they still fit from when he'd last worn them and then took the filthy clothes to the sink, popping them in the hot water with a liberal dose of Acdo. Severus sat in the half filled tub of lukewarm water, picking up soap and flannel and scrubbing vigorously, as if trying to wash the year's taint from his body and resume his home identity.

 

Eileen watched as the boy left the small lean-to bathroom and trudged up the stairs to his room, shoulders slumped and exhaustion visible in his every movement. She decided to let him rest, then lay down the law before his father came home. She smiled, feeling a warm glow in her chest. It was so good to have both of her boys home. She only hoped they could live together over the summer without snapping at one another, like two dog crups with one wizard.

 

Severus sat up on his bed cross-legged, glaring at the wobbly bookshelves opposite. So all he had to do to keep the peace over the summer was to relinquish his personal freedom and live under virtual house arrest as if he were a naughty child confined to his room for pilfering the neighbours' biscuits as they cooled on the windowsill. He wriggled fitfully where he sat; irritated by the muggle bell-bottom jeans he wore, accustomed instead to the comfort and convenience of robes. He sighed as his mother's words returned to his mind.

 

`When your Da's home you'll have to stay in your room out of his way. He wants no trace of you, but he told me you could do what you liked while he was out so long as I was keeping an eye on you or you were with friends. I understand that such a restriction must gall you, my love but I am truly glad to have you home.' She had embraced him then, thin arms wrapping tightly around his body with a surprising ferocity as if the strength of her hold could convey the strength of her affection. He had smiled slightly, one arm encompassing her waist as the other lifted to stroke her limp hair. He did love her, really. It was simply that circumstances occasionally made it hard to remember that fact.

 

Severus was not an especially active teenager in any case, his nervous energy expending itself as he waved his hand, imitating wand motions to practice spell-casting and paced both his room floor and the small yard behind the house. The rest of the time he was as content as was possible for him to be, ensconced in his room with his textbooks and the hand-down books he received from the Malfoys and his mother. It was simply the thought of being restricted that chafed.

 

He completed his homework without undue difficulty - all of the answers were in his notes or textbooks after all and he had plenty of time to spend combing his books for titbits of knowledge the other pupils might have missed. However, all too soon he finished with everything his subject masters had assigned. After a few days spent at a loose end he found something interesting in an obscure and probably illegal text about the symbiosis of raw and Dark magic in wandless spell use. Severus lay back on his bed, wand discarded for the time being. It took several tries to weave the dainty threads of wild magic, using not just his intellect and the mental discipline of modern formal magic, but the atavistic power of wishing, pouring his desire for secrecy and protection into the wellspring of his power. The final time he didn't quite know what was different, only that it felt right. He grinned and lifted his wand, and paused, trying to think of a suitably silly little spell, powerful enough to be picked up by the Ministry, but frivolous enough not to be viewed unfavourably. `Orchideous!' He pronounced gravely, producing a gay bouquet of orchids. He plonked them into his now cold mug of tea and waited.

 

The Ministry did not send a letter or attempt legal action in response to this use of underage magic and Severus cautiously tested the wards further. They appeared to work. Due to the combination of true Dark magic and natural Old magic the wards would not cause comment, simply being the subconscious self-defence instinct of a rather intuitive wizarding teenager.

 

A week later Severus was lying awake on his bed when he heard his father come in. He'd not been out drinking in some time and apparently he'd been trying to make up for the lost bingeing. The distressed sound of his mother trying to calm his Da triggered those horrible feelings of powerlessness and fury. A fly batted at the bare light bulb above. Severus raised his wand, imagining the fly to be something quite different. He focused his will and there was a silent flash, then the insect dropped to the floor, dead.