Behind the Mask

Behind the Mask

or The truth about a true hero

by Angeline

Prologue

My name is Severus S. Snape as you may know when you read this and if you are able to read this, let my assure you that I'm dead by now and nothing will affect me anymore by the time this story is published.

I fought with myself for quite a while if I should share this with anyone, but I have come to the conclusion that others have the right to know the truth. I have decided to wait until my death with it, because I'm quite fond of my calm life, which I spend in solitude now.

There was a time when I didn't mind and even enjoyed the company of others, but the older I get the more annoying I find other people.

I know that if this story would become known while I live, I would spend the rest of my life being chased by lunatic reporters, a fate which horrifies me, so you can hopefully see my reasons for waiting so long.

This is a story about a true hero, most of you may have heard of him, maybe his tale may have been told to some of you as a bedtime story, even though in my opinion this is not a fitting story for children.

Some of you may have known him personally, as much of himself as he let others see.

There were very few he confided in enough to let them see the real him and as the war went on fewer of them were there anymore. He always had to be the strong one, a beacon to whom people could look up to.

That is the problem with people, they don't want to believe that their heroes are human like them.

I want to tell you something about heroes, some things for which most of you may have never spared a thought.

Heroes make mistakes, can be in a bad mood, or sometimes behave childishly, what really makes them different from other humans is that they fight for millions of faceless people who they will never know, they gain nothing from this fight. A hero, even when he is exhausted and lost all hope, he keeps on fighting because the light has to win over the darkness, a hero's only reward is the peace that settles after the dark is defeated once again, and if he dies in the battle, not even that.

So you see, being a hero is nothing one should wish to achieve, even the fame that comes with it is mostly just frustrating, so I have been told. People expect so much of you, sometimes more than you are able, or want to give, if you are not able to live up to their expectations they will judge you harshly and turn their backs on you.

A fact, of which people are mostly ignorant about, is that a hero also needs true friends, a place where he can rest undisturbed and love. No one is able to carry the weight of the world on his shoulders without having a shoulder to lean on, people he can trust to sometimes share his burden with.

Love is another thing this story is about. Not the kind of happily ever after love and also not the kind of boy meets girl, they marry and have children love.

No, we are talking here about a different kind of love. The love that happens on the battlefield, between fighters where you are never sure if your mate will come back in the evening, or how much time you have left. So this kind of love is more intense, you could say desperately so. Clinging to each other to be comforted, feel alive again for a few hours, grieving for the ones that are gone and praying the other will be spared, to have the chance of a future together. But life is not a fairytale and prayers often go unheard.

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Chapter 1 - Confessions

Let me first confess some things about myself, there was a time in my life when I was on the side of darkness, yes, I have been a Death Eater and did horrible things for my Dark Lord, but I came to my senses early enough, for which I am eternally grateful.

I told Albus Dumbledore, one of the most powerful and best wizards of this century, everything and became a member of his famous 'Order of the Phoenix'. I also began to teach at Hogwarts School for Witchcraft and Wizardry, where Albus was headmaster at the time, as a potions master. I sought redemption for the bad deeds I've done by being a spy for the side of light.

The Death Eaters, my former fellows, still trusted me and what was more important I had still the trust of the Dark Lord, he thought I was spying for him and I did everything to encourage that thought further without telling him anything really important.

These years were quite exhausting, between teaching, spying and beguiling the Dark Lord and his followers, my life was very complicated.

These were years of solitude, because anyone near me would find out too much and could be used against me. I didn't allow myself to become too attached to anyone, let my appearance become ugly and greasy and always hid behind a mask of anger and sarcasm, so no one would want to get near me, or would be foolish enough to fall in love with me.

Then the impossible happened, the dark lord attacked the Potters, Harry Potter, not much more than an infant, survived the death curse and Voldemort was defeated by the backslash of it, at that time we thought the Dark Lord was gone for good, but we were to learn better than that to soon.

Lily and James Potter were dead, having given their live to defend their son. When I heard of it, I cried for the first time in many years, only in my private chambers of course, because Serverus Snape was supposed to have a heart made of stone and I didn't know then, how I should survive without the mask I wore for the world.

I had worn it for so long, that I didn't know anymore who the person behind it was, if there still were some traces left of the man I had been before. The mask gave me a safety I hadn't had before and I was afraid to let it slip.

You see, between James Potter and me there was never more than a deep hatred and loathing for each other. In school we wanted nothing more as to make each other's life hell, so I was not overly sad about his death, but Lily Potter formerly Evans was something utterly different.

I had been in love with her for most of my school time, even asked her out a few times. She was a muggle born, of course and I was from an old pureblood family, but that didn't matter to me at that time.

I was not a Death Eater yet and my family was nothing I was proud of, they treated me at best with indifference, at worst with beatings. I especially hated my father and cried no tear for him as he died, but that is a different story and does not belong here, maybe I will write about my childhood and the famous Snape Family at someplace else.

Where was I?

Ah, Lily Evans, she was a very beautiful woman with long auburn hair and those eyes, their unusual shade of the purest emerald green was what drew me first to her, but looks, like gender, have never really mattered much to me.

She was also kind and caring, she would never make jokes about me like many of my fellow students did, because I'd rather indulge in my schoolwork, than in Quidditch or braking rules and I was a Slytherin.

She even defended me against Potter and Black when they had crossed a line with one of their jokes. I may sound like a lovesick puppy but I think I was one then.

I would lay awake at night and think about her, as I got older I fantasized about her, how her breasts would feel crushed against my chest, that auburn hair splayed over my face, hiding us from the world outside while I was making love to her.

My fantasies never came true, all we ever shared was one kiss, I still remember it like it was yesterday and not over 50 years ago. We had gone to Hogsmeade together, on our way back we made a halt at the edge of the forbidden forest, we talked, she laughed at a joke I made and suddenly our faces were only separated by mere inches. Then we kissed, tentatively at first, almost chaste just lip on lip, her lips pink and silky. Eventually the kiss deepened, our tongues coming out to find each other, she tasted like the Honeydukes sweets we bought.

I was truly happy then. It was our only kiss, soon after she began to go out with James Potter, my heart was broken when I found out. I thought I wouldn't survive this pain, seeing her with my worst enemy. She still talked to me and wanted us to be friends but I could not stand to be near her. If I weren't so foolish then, I could have had at least that part of her.

And then she died. I never forgave myself for not warning them sooner, but I had only found out myself shortly before the attack. I swore to make it up to her by protecting her son. I made the vow on her grave, slicing my palm with a ritual dagger and letting my hearts blood drop on the earth she rested in, while I said the words of an ancient charm, to seal my oath to her.