Through Tinted Windows

Chapter 7

Donna tokidatte

Tada hitoride

Unmei wasurete

Ikitekitanoni

Totsuzen no hikari no naka megasameru

Mayonakani

Beginning Verse of: 'Hikari' (From 'Kingdom Hearts')

By: Utada Hikaru

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Snape's Story - Part 1: Twenty-one years ago...

"Dammit, boy, get it right!"

Severus couldn't help but grimace at the sound of his mother's thin voice bellowing across the room. Again, he tried to cast the curse upon the innocent rodent set before him. When he chanted it this time, not only did the rat squeak profusely in pain, but through all the openings, its blood began to seep slowly out, catching on its fur coat before spreading on the stone lab table. The tiny animal convulsed in its own bodily fluids before it lay still, glassy eyes unseeing and dead. An instant stench emanated from its body, all skewed in an irregular shape. Severus looked down at it in disgust then turned to his mother, his expression neutral.

Lady Snape looked at her son in an approving manner, though to others it may have been a look of contempt. It was no mistake that they were related in some way for they shared many attributes that showed their relationship. Her black eyes piercing as his were; her hair silky and long, put up in a tight bun was of the same texture and colour - black as a raven's feathers. Her skin was like porcelain, flawless and so pale. At that moment, as she sat on the lounging chair, she was wearing her customary home clothing - deep rouge dress that covered all of her body - neck to foot. Adorning her bony fingers were rings of jade, emerald and diamond - whatever she could find, she would put on and wear.

Persephone Snape prided herself as a hard woman, unbending to all - except those she believed held the most power. Her husband, bless his soul, was not one of those she held at high respects. Reasons to their marriage were merely for business purposes: the main one was to keep the money at a steady if not increasing rate. Now that the man was dead, Persephone made it a point to truly push the heir of all their fortunes. She wanted him to have no weaknesses and she was ready to do anything to keep it that way. In order to keep him safe, she sided with the wizard who was rising in power: Lord Voldemort.

He had been around for quite a while, long before Severus was born, and she was well aware of the threat he posed to the Ministry. She found his ideals quite amusing and in many ways, justified. To rid the world of mud-bloods; to purify the wizarding world that was slowly becoming more and more polluted: his reasons to kill these half-breeds were good. She, too, did not like the fact that there were wizards who fancied themselves to be in love with muggles. It was like watching a cat and dog mate. Muggles did not know how to accept magic. They would never understand their ways and because of that, Persephone could not accept them.

So there, on the armchair, watching her son's eyes show their contempt for his actions, she sat, her hand folded upon her lap. He was just a child, but already turning out to be such a cold statue. Her smirk grew to a full smile. She was quite proud, actually, seeing what he had become. She beckoned him to her and he came to kneel before her, his gaze dutifully lowered. She tilted his chin up with a light grip then looked into eyes identical to her own.

"This is all for your own good," she reminded him in a quiet voice. "The Dark Lord is expecting an army of strong individuals. I will give him the strongest. You will make me happy by being just that, will you not?"

He nodded solemnly, his eyes closing to reveal nothing but aloofness. Her approval came through her gaze and she let go of his chin, indicating that he leave. He did so as a good child would do and left the room, unaware that a cat perched on a high shelf sprang down and began feasting on the rat's carcass. When the door was safely shut behind him, he let out a held breath and wanted to kick himself for getting into such business as killing other living things. He was just sixteen, for Merlin's sake! And what right did Voldemort have to do all those horrific things?

Rubbing his temples, he had other more important things to worry about - like his N.E.W.T.S. that were coming up the impending year. His mother never really cared about the fact that he was practically a genius, the Headmaster recommending him to skip a year and move directly to the next. He had gotten her to allow it, but she signed it, half conscious of what it was she was giving her signature for.

He had to admit, being the youngest person in 7^th Year was not at all fun in any way. The damn Gryffindors found it amusing to pick on a lanky, pale Slytherin who didn't really have a place in their year. Potter and Black seemed to have the most fun with him, he thought darkly, stalking up the regally carpeted steps to his chambers. Lucius seemed to be a more accommodating towards him, at least and Severus could threaten the two bastards with him on his side. It was a weak thing to do, so he used that front rarely. Most of the time, he ended up the victim of vicious jokes and wound up in the Hospital Wing with Madame Pomfrey tutting at his injuries.

Their most recent one almost got him killed and he vowed he would never forgive them for that nor would he even trust them. Sighing, he opened his door and frowned at the books stacked in his room. He had to pack for school as they would be leaving tomorrow and at that point, everything seemed hopeless. His clothes were still folded on his bed, his books were not shrunken to their more portable size, and his owl refused to go in its cage. Well, you have to start somewhere, he thought and moved in to begin the long tedious labour.

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He was alone in one of the train's compartments, settling in as much as possible. He had finally gotten his owl to stop flapping him away from it and he had made all his books and clothes fit into the chest all before three in the morning. He was looking forward to a quiet ride back to Hogwarts to be able to catch up on sleep and was just about to succumb to a long nap when the compartment door opened, revealing a girl no older than he - with a head full of wavy, brown hair and rosy skin. Severus had not really thought of her appearance at first as he was irritated with the fact that his solitude was disturbed.

Glaring at the girl, he folded his arms over his chest and asked coldly, "What do you want?"

She looked around, noticed it was empty and looked at him expectantly with a set of hazel eyes. "Actually, I was hoping that you wouldn't mind sharing this space." Her voice was soft, but sure as he questioned him.

He raised one of his eyebrows. "But you're a girl," he said bluntly, as if it was all the reason to why she wasn't supposed to be there.

She looked down, then up again, with a puzzled look. "Yes," she said slowly. "And... your point is... what?"

"Don't you all stick together in some sort of feminine pack? Where are your other female friends?" Merlin, the girl seemed so ignorant! He watched her as she tried to piece it together and rolled his eyes. "Aren't you supposed to be with people who are from your house? What house are you in?"

"I... don't know," she murmured, frowning. "It's just that the other places are full, or they downright refuse to have me there. They are all quite close to one another, and even if they let me stay with them, I would feel awfully bad to be intruding."

"What house are you in?" he repeated, the scowl growing more intense.

She looked down at a piece of crumpled paper. "It says here... that I have to be sorted. What does that mean?" He looked at her incredulously, but she didn't give any outward indication that she was bothered by it. Instead she looked back down at the paper and cocked her head to the side. "I'm a new student starting the last year. It's rather odd, but I had been taught at home instead of at school and they've made it a requirement that all individuals going to a wizarding college or university must have at least one year of formal schooling."

He didn't like the fact that he had not seen her, much less, the fact that she was in his arch-enemy's house, but there was something that intrigued him - something about her overall presentation of herself. So, pretending to be reluctant, he consented, "Fine, you may stay here. But I warn you, my company isn't pleasant."

At that, she gave him a warm smile that caught him by surprise. No one really had ever been warm towards him, not unless they were in dire need of a paper to be done or to have the answer to a test. He felt the beginnings of an attraction towards her that he could not stop, much less feel comfortable about. As she brought her belongings in, he watched her in an observer's fascination. She had a slim figure, yet she held so much strength in it. She was - from what he could deduce - a foot shorter than he. When she had placed the last of her things in their proper compartments, she flopped down onto the seat and sighed in relief, her eyes closing.

"So, who are you?" she asked, not bothering to look at him.

"Severus Snape," he answered, simply refusing to give anymore information than that. His curiosity got the best of him, however, and gave in to the impulse to question her. "What's your name?"

She extended a hand for him to shake and gave him a full grin, revealing straight pearly teeth. "I thought you'd never ask. I am Helene Lake." He froze at that. Lake - that name... he knew that name! His stare became harder. She in turn, looked back, as if oblivious of the fame of her family's reputation. "My father's dead now so I'm allowed to go to school."

The train started to move, jolting their movements slightly, but they readjusted to the acceleration and continued their little conversation. Severus's frown had lessened under the familiarity that came over them, but his curiosity blossomed to something more. He had to know more about this girl. Franco Lake - known among the Death Eaters as the most terrible and best followers of Voldemort - was this girl's father. He was the Death Eater who had sacrificed himself so that the Aurors would not find the lair of the Dark Lord. Severus's obsidian eyes narrowed as what she had said registered. "What do you mean you are 'allowed'?"

She shrugged and smiled thoughtfully, propping her hands upon her lap. "Father was a traditional man," she replied. "He thought women were to be stupid and obedient, while the men were the strong intellectual ones. He locked me up in the basement with Mother when we had free time and slapped us when we did something wrong. Sometimes, he'd do a mild Cruciatus curse on us if he felt particularly bad, but they didn't hurt that much - he loved us enough to let us live. One time, he came to us, drunk. He raped my mother in front of me and was about to turn on me, too, but my mother stopped him and so he hit her and then left."

Unknowingly, he leaned forward and propped his elbows on his legs and his head on his hands, his eyes going wide as he absorbed what she was saying. Her voice entranced him; her story horrified him. He had believed that he was the only one forced into a world that he did not want. He looked at her life and was thankful that his mother had not gone to the extent of sheer torture and deprivation.

"Mother was kind to me, though," she continued. "During the times that I was supposed to be at Hogwarts - I got a letter when I was eleven -" she smiled brightly at that. "- my mother provided me with the knowledge I needed, gave me books to read and taught lessons that helped me grow intellectually. She hid them behind a stone in the basement and taught me while we were stuck there. Father didn't know that she had her wand with her the whole time."

"Was he really that cruel?"

She stopped her account and looked at him pleasantly, but the smile faltered slightly. "He - was a man of great discipline and he cared for order. He had strong beliefs and when he makes up his mind, that's it. That's what killed him. Mother and I found out about it when the Auror's discovered us in the basement. They said we could keep the property - that it was rightfully ours and that Father was gone and would not come back to hurt us."

She said it with a tone that implied she was trying to convince herself of his true innocence. Severus didn't believe that the man deserved to be defended at all. From what he had deduced from her tale, he was an absolute nightmare of an individual. It was a wonder that she had survived so much and still seemed to love him enough to side with the man.

The boy looked away from her and trained his eyes on a far spot on the seat across from him. He had always had a stereotypical image of all Gryffindors in their more than wonderful lives, a family that was close in every aspect, picnic weekends and nightly escapades with friends... things that Slytherin kids were deprived of. And here was another person to add to their list of screw-ups in the Slytherin house. He was certain that she would be one of them for her life was far more insane than Lucius's and his put together.

He thought that being trained almost eighteen hours a day to become cold-blooded killers while getting no sympathy from one's parents was harsh. For her, it was far worse. She was prey for her father's wrath; a victim to his experimentations. The worst part of it was that he enjoyed everything. The father kept the two women alive in order to place them under more experimentation; inflict more pain and watch in amusement as he did so. Severus could feel the blood pump faster in his veins as his anger grew. He could picture such a thing happening to her in his mind and he despised what he envisioned.

"Are you okay, Severus?" Her voice cut through the furious void, startling him out of the rising anger. Involuntarily, his gaze softened when it switched from the seat to her form, which was set in anxiety. A small smile graced his lips and from what he saw, it surprised her.

"Yes, I am quite alright. I was - just thinking over a few things you had said. No need to worry." The look of understanding came over her and she nodded, her smile returned and she looked out the window in awe as the scenery flew past them. She was so naïve - so new to the world, like a new born baby. At that instant, he wanted to nurture that innocence, allow her to grow to see the beauty that could be created, to protect her from all that was ugly.

Alarmed by the rush of unfamiliar feelings, his body stiffened and he swung his head towards the door and watched as it swayed to a different beat then him as they went down the uneven track towards Hogwarts.

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Severus sat sulking in his seat at the supper tables. They had been watching the Sorting take place and from what he could see, there was more and more doubt that Helene would end up in the same house as him. Lucius was busy assessing all the first-years as they stepped up, smirking slightly when they were sorted into the Slytherins and growling in a low tone when they were sorted into the Gryffindor house.

There was an even spread of first years over the houses - as it had always been - but it seemed that there were a greater amount of new Gryffindors in comparison to Slytherin. Naturally, the seventh years of that fortunate house were please, smirking across the hall at their adversaries. Severus watched as the two shot haughty glances at one another. There was sure to be a great clash during the Quidditch games as well as in the double classes that they were so unfortunate to have together every year. They were all sure that the headmaster had made the schedules as they were in order to bring both houses to an understanding to one another. Instead, it broadened the riffs that were created as competition soared at who was smarter and stronger.

Severus noted that Helene seemed to be the last one to be sorted. Probably because she's technically not a first year, he justified. Just as he suspected, Helene stood alone in front of the head tables and was about to be called up when Headmaster Dumbledore stood. Severus's gaze narrowed. What is the meaning of this? Unknowingly, he leaned forward.

"I have a special announcement," the Headmaster began, his eyes twinkling. "We have an incoming student who, at sixteen, has achieved the knowledge of a 7^th year. Please welcome Helene Cyrus Lake."

At her name there was a bout of murmurs and finally an awkward applause. The Slytherins sat higher in their seats and grinned arrogantly, believing that she would be in their house, considering her ties with the Dark Lord. As she was beckoned forward, Severus could see that she was trembling. The attention was so overwhelming and Dumbledore did nothing to make things easier for her. She sat down on the chair and upon her head the Sorting Hat was placed. The murmurs stopped and a deathly silence fell upon the students.

The Marauders of the Gryffindor house sat with their arms folded and with heavy frowns on their brows. It was obvious that they were expecting the girl to be sorted in to the Slytherin. That was one more 'dark child' for Voldemort to exploit and use for his great plan to control the mortal world.

The Professors at the head tables watched skeptically as she mounted. This slim of a girl who sat before everyone seemed so innocent. She surely could not become Slytherin. They had seen her demeanor when she stepped forward - it was anything but smug and haughty. Despite her name, she was anything but a Slytherin. Surely she would be in one of the other houses.

The students could see that she had her eyes closed and she was grimacing. Her mouth was moving in speech, but they could not hear what she was saying. So they all sat, tentatively watching the girl and the hat compromise a decision. Finally her eyes shot opened wide. The sorting hat that sat upon her head shouted the final sorting.

"You had better be - GRYFFINDOR!"

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Present:

"Wait, wait," Hermione interrupted, holding up a halting hand.

Snape glared at her. "What, pray tell, did you stop me for?"

"This story seems pointless, Severus."

"I am starting from the beginning to prevent any questioning after I finish." He took another sip of his coffee in frustration.

"Yes, but she has just been sorted to the Gryffindors. Does that not mean that all communication with her would then be severed and you'd go on with your oh-so merry little life?"

"My 'merry little life,' as you most wonderfully call it, began with that year," he insisted. "She has a role in this whole thing. Damn you, now I don't want to explain myself any further. You're the only one I know who makes a simple task become so difficult."

He made a move to get up, when she grabbed his hand. "Oh please continue," she begged with a puppy-dog look.

He raised a slim brow. "And why in the world should I do as you ask? Was it not you who had just said previously that my little tale was quite pointless?" He pursed his lips. "I don't see a reason to go any further than I have since the person that I am trying to expose myself to seems to be mocking my way of ordering the things that occurred. And to think, I did it to make it easier for her!"

He tried to get up, but she reached farther over the table so that her whole upper body was propped on the wooden expanse. She held the same hand in both of hers then and looked pleadingly at him. "I'm really sorry that I did that. I was just - it was wrong of me," she stated. "But don't leave me hanging like that! Anything but that..."

He said nothing at first, just looking down at her with a frown on his face. She waited in dread for his answer. She was truly fascinated with what he was telling her, but the knowledge that there was another female that he would feel the impulsive need to protect made her feel oddly - jealous, much to her dismay. He didn't mean to offend him - and still her impulsive urge to stop him from talking about her anymore did and she regretted almost at the instant that the words had left her mouth.

"If you would let go of my hand, Hermione," he said in an even voice.

Her heart sank and she slid back to her seat and let go of him. She felt her heart leap again when he, too, sat back down in the seat across from her. He sent her a warning look and threatened, "If you interrupt me again..."

"Yes, yes, of course," she said. "Please, just go on."

"Very well." And he continued.