The Snape - Audience Relationship

Snape Talks to the Audience

I bet you are all sitting there in avid attention, waiting to hear the final confirmation of what turned me. What turned the turncoat? Everyone has their own theories, and everyone imagines that their own one is the true one, the real one. But who wants to know the real things, they are so boring, so plain. I feel like telling you a story instead so that you will listen and go, wow, that was special, but I'm not really special, never have been. I hated school, I hated the other students, I probably wouldn't have minded them if I had met them outside of school, if there had never been us together in school. But school was bad for me, it's not unusual for that to happen, happens everywhere, even in the Muggle world.

Don't say in your heads that I secretly wanted these people for my friends, not the bad ones, not the ones who played with me over and over and over again till the jokes lost all meaning except to themselves. Is it any wonder I turned to the Dark side as people call it. For me it was a light, a way out of this bullshit, a place where I was accepted. But I suppose that makes me bad, being in the dark side. Even though what we did to Muggles was about the level of the stuff that was done to me. The Dark side, that's so stupid, there is no dark or light, just two sides of the same bloody coin. Both sides called themselves the Light side, the right side, it just depends on who is telling the story. As I am telling the story, I suppose I should decide for myself which is which, but the problem is I don't know which one to assign each, the new alliance and the old alliance, I don't know, I think that they are both the dark side if dark is evil. But I like the dark so let's leave that ambigious, maybe they are both light, but not light as in knights in shining armour in fairytales who are perfect and good. I suppose I can say that school changed my options, left me to one side, made it seem attractive, not that it doesn't have its attractions without the school hatred induced one. The clothing does suit my complexion. Ha. Don't think that I am completely serious. One has to maintain some form of humour to teach at Hogwarts, especially to deal with the other teachers. It just may be a sense of humour that you are slightly unfamiliar with. I am a unique person... just like everyone else.

So let us keep going with the story, or do you want me to go to the beginning, or what you would term the beginning. So children do you want hear a story... Once upon a time there lived a boy named Severus, but everyone called him Snape, at least those who were moderately decent human beings, or 'greasy git' to all the others. It is truly lovely how children show their tender love and care for each other. There is a hero, as always and everyone else is painted in comparison to them, so I suppose I should talk about the hero. No it's not going to be Potter, at least not Harry Potter, unfortunately for those lovely readers out there at this moment that I am talking about Potter is still inside his father's testicles. Which is about as close as he ever got to his father... I warned you about my sense of humour. It is probably a good thing, his father wasn't that pleasant at high school. OH he saved me and all that, and now I suppose I shall have to be eternally grateful. Unfortunately it also seems that he was involved in the dangerous endeavour, but let me get to the hero to whom I shall forever be paired, nemesis to nemesis. Me to Sirius Black. It wasn't very surprising was it. I bet you all like him now, and I must admit Azkaban did some wonderful things for his personality, at least now he isn't so animalistic, if I can use the word without being shouted down by Sirius lovers.

Do you want to know about your hero? Well the old one, who is passing his knowledge down to the new. You know I could have been a lot harder to Potter, you think I am bad, but I could have been worse. I'm smart, I could do things you wouldn't want to dream of, but I chose not to, despite my obvious and present amniosity towards him. If he was anything like what Sirius used to be like then, well, I'm pretty sure I would have tried to do something drastic, like blow him into oblivion despite the consequences. I may be tamed but I haven't lost my claws, and they are very sharp. Sirius, what to say about him, I would prefer not to speak about him but I think people need to know. I remember a time, not long ago when I just left the wizarding world in the holidays and just lived as a Muggle, just for some breathing space. I remember they had all these articles about bullying as if they had only just noticed it, even though it had been there all along. Well lets put it this way, the wizarding world still hasn't realised what even bloody muggles know. Stupid isn't it, we pride ourselves on our superiority to them and yet they outthink us in so many ways.

Anyway getting back to it, bully is the mildest possible term for what Sirius and his cohorts did to me. I will exclude Remus and James a little, they did participate, but not to the vile extent of the other two. Especially Peter who seemed to get almost shall we say, overexcited by it. All who have not been bullied will probably think I exaggerate, but do keep in mind this forced an otherwise usual, quiet child to a path of violence and destruction. I suppose that's what they always say anyway, he was such a quiet nice child, before he became a psychopathic murderer. Unfortunately I doubt I would have had any psychopathic tendencies if a real psychopath hadn't visited me first. So let me introduce you to Sirius Black through my eyes, not through Potter's or Dumbledore's or even Hagrid's. He was a very careful boy, careful to show the right image, to do everything right, the right friends, the right amount of work for class, to look right to the teachers, not a pet but almost indulged shall I say. And of course in high school, you must have the right nemesis.

I'm not quite sure why I was chosen, perhaps it was fate, at any rate I was an unattractive child, so that might be it. I also had the fortune and misfortune to be sorted into Slytherin. Fortune because it suits me and my character, and gave me some friends. I do not think that I would have liked or suited any of the other houses. Unfortunately it also set me right in the middle of the battle between the Gryffindors and the Slytherins, one which I believe has been in progress since right from the beginning of Hogwarts. I suppose a lot of you are wondering why I see this as essential to my telling you why I left Voldemort's side, but you have to know why I went there in the first place. I'm not the sort of person who skips through a story right to the end, just to read that bit without any understanding. Sirius is my reason. Stop defending him. I know I focus on saying that on trying to prepare you for a hero of yours, if not your primary hero to be besmirched, and I know each time I say it, you probably believe it less but I find it difficult to repeat the stuff that he inflicted upon me.

There was the normal bullying of course, I expected it, I was not a stupid child, in fact as I was quite intelligent I indeed anticipated it, because I knew that tall poppies were always stripped of their top leaves. But I thought if I study hard and not pay attention to them it will disappear, or at least I wont notice that much. How wrong I was... Pretty much everyone gave me the normal bullying, teasing and so on, "greasy git" is certainly a lovely name to have screamed down the corridor at you, but to be perfectly honest, I believe that anyone who can't deal with that kind of shit, doesn't deserve to reach the outside world. Maybe that is why I test Neville so hard, he has to learn someday that you can't just bumble your way through life. I must say in some ways the schooling has really improved, or at least the bullies have become less painfully brutal.

Anyway back to the past, there was also more extreme bullying, let us just say that one time when Moody turned Malfoy into a ferret and bounced him around, was about the treatment I received on a regular basis, he had it once, I had it every week. Even that, I thought it's not so bad, I can deal with it, I am the better wizard and I will beat them that way. Then there was the incident with the Whomping willow, Sirius had inflicted his own amusement on me yet again the day before, I need not go into details, he did it too often even his friends got sick of those jokes. That says something about him, doesn't it? He ended up challenging me to a duel, a wizards duel, the janitor in those days was quite vigorous and less restrained, it would not have been safe for either of us to be found, Sirius suggested that he knew of a secret place. I knew he would probably have back up there, but I thought maybe with my superior wizarding skills I would have a chance to beat them. So I said I would. He said that it was under the Whomping willow and there was a way to get through it, so I tried. Or was going to, until James pulled me back away from Remus. I had those bruises on my back for weeks. Dumbledore enthralled by the filthy little attempted murderer, allowed him to be free for Remus' sake as he said. I understood about the werewolf, as I said before and I assume you have gathered I am not a stupid person.

But to let Sirius go free, he could have been accused of anything, anything at all, I wouldn't have cared, he deserved the Azkaban experience, I only wish that every minute and second had been longer. That's not the thing I really hated him for but honestly ask yourselves why do you support someone who tried to kill someone else? Even if that other child did something unforgiveable, which I tell you I did not, do they deserve death? Is it only because you had not previously heard my thoughts that you condoned his actions? Is it because you don't find me attractive? There are reasons for that. He did however get some punishment, no Quidditch, no Hogsmeade, curfew, detention with Filch senior, so many things, but not enough for me. Too much for him. He caught me one day alone after that, him and Peter. It's been years and I still find it difficult to talk about it.

I originally imagine that I was bisexual, most purebloods are, they are very blasé about their sexual experience but they are usually numerous and interesting, and I gather I would have been no exception. They both raped me. It sounds easier like that, colder, more distant, if you don't put the details in. I can still remember my head pressed against the cold tiles, and feeling the blood trickle down my legs, as they thumped their dry penis' into my arse, one after the other. It didn't matter that there was only two, they managed quite well in their little gang rape. As soon as one was finished the other one would be ready again. I don't know how many hours I was immobilised there. The scars building up. I still have some. I don't need to talk about it anymore. I'm sure you get the idea. And if you don't, I don't care, I don't want to talk about it. It just makes me remember it more easily. I bit the inside of my cheek until it bled salt into my mouth. They said as they left, leaving me in a pile of blood, feces, urine, and semen that it didn't matter what they did, Dumbledore would lways protect them. I believed them. It probably wasn't true, Dumbledore has some principles, but then all I thought was that here was the golden boy, protected loved and I am the vessel for my pain, a place with orifices to place parting mementos in.

The only problem is that if I tell Dumbledore now he will only think that it is spite. It's a pity I didn't try then. It was the next day that I signed up to be a Deatheater. They had been badgering me for weeks, months even, they wanted a brain drain of Hogwarts so I was one of their prizes. I could have said no to them, that was what I originally planned, even the Whomping willow incident didn't stop that, it had to take this. and it worked. Peter is on Voldemort's side now, but that isn't why I swapped to Dumbledore's, well maybe a little, but the other side had Sirius and even though Sirius is worse I can't deal with either of them. It was a lose lose situation.

It's pretty predictable what turned me really, it was a woman, except she always called herself a girl. I had been involved in Voldemort's dealings for a couple of years then. Not often with the Muggles I didn't like that, and I have never really had anything against them, except the thought that if I don't do what Voldemort wants I am in big trouble. I was mostly involved in brewing potions to try and achieve the Dark Lords immortality, although why you would want to live forever is beyond me... this lifetime is more than enough misery. But everyone to their own peversions, he has his and I have mine.

Its not surprising that it was a girl really, even in my classes I am often less mean to girls than to boys, its an instinctual response, girls are less painful. So yes although it could have originally been a girl or boy that turned me, my experiences altered that, and so life goes on. My life goes on, or at least it does a convincing impression. I met her, and she changed me. I suppose everyone changes you, but she changed me for the better. And by better I am not saying that she made me ally myself with Dumbledore's side for I do not believe that that is a better choice, it is just another choice. It was a symptom of the change for the better, in that, well how do I explain this without referring to her. I haven't really talked about her for a long time, I have only thought, thought so much that sometimes it seems that I might crack at the edges for all the thinking. Which is bad because only she was ever able to put me together... pity really. I never let anyone else close enough to do so.

Sometimes I don't know why I let her close, I am very cynical about relationships. For me they don't exist. Except for her. But the worst thing is, that even when I talk about her, none of you will ever understand, why? Why her? Why her in particular? She is not special and yet she is so special that I seem to see it when I see her. Saw her, it's hard to separate that sometimes, the past and the present. The idea that she is not here anymore. I suppose you want the physical descriptions now. How very stereotypical... no, she is not a thin leggy blonde. However if it is any consolation I imagine at some point she must have been blonde, although I think that was before she discovered the joys of dying hair black. In that regards we were twins, midnight black hair curled together on the pillow. She had freckles, not many, and a face that would go bright pink at every opportunity; when she was drinking, when she was walking, when I tickled her on the bed until she fell off.

Oh no, not Professor Snape, how could he do that? How unprofessor Snape-like? I am a teacher, but I am not a robot, I do have a life outside school, and it is not just involved in this battle between good and evil. I know I may not seem to have one, but one has to be professional especially when one is a hated teacher. A position which I enjoy. Well I do not know whether enjoy is the right word, but I have experienced too much to imagine that I could settle back into being a beloved teacher, it would smack too much of closeness. I have only ever trusted one person. Her. Sometimes I sit in bed at night and whisper her name to myself, but so silently that it is not even sound. Leah. I suppose you could say that she meant everything to me, and in a way that is true, although I have always been dubious about attributing that to anyone. She loved me. I loved her. And she was Muggleborn.

I must admit that I never expected it. Especially after joining Voldemort's forces where the one commandment seems to be: Thou shalt not pollute the pureblood race with relations of a sexual nature with Muggles or Muggleborns. It seems almost ironic when you think now how Voldemort is himself, partially, a Muggle born. Most Deatheaters don't know. He says that he was in an Muggle orphanage for some reason, and he pulls out excuse after excuse for his presence there. He didn't want us to know the truth, he thought his secret was safe. Pity he has, had a drinking problem. Not that he is an alcoholic, but when he drinks he talks and talks and is helped to bed and no-one remembers anything the next day, except for the thought that they should never ever drink again. Except for me, at least I think so, Dumbledore spreads it insidiously, but most of the Deatheaters either think that it is a lie, or pretend that they think that. For what else can they believe of their beloved Lord Voldemort?

In a way I understand it, Lord Voldemort is a very convincing leader, he has, what you might call, a presence about him. I can feel that even if I don't follow his true objectives anymore. Dumbledore in comparison, well he knows what he is doing, and all the students love him, but he is not a leader like Voldemort is a leader. Voldemort could draw things out of you, and then give them back as if they were presents. Not all of his followers used to be homicidal maniacs, he inspires things in them, things that they never thought that they had, maybe they didn't. That doesn't mean that it is not their fault for their actions, we all make choices, it just means sometimes it is easier when you are inspired. In the light side, how I hate to use that word but I will use it for easy reference, they do the same or similar actions all in the name of good. I know what Auror's do, and it is not be brave heroes, although in a sense they do share that Gryffindor quality, but afterwards, have you ever wondered what they did. I am not saying that Deatheaters did not deserve to be punished, but this is not a punishment, this is acting exactly the same way. Lowered to their level you might say. At any rate it makes it difficult to distinguish between them, for they do same stuff, it is just their victims who are different.

The only thing which is different is their attitude to the Muggleborns, one thinks that they should be allowed to survive and the other thinks that they should be dead. I remember, again from that time when I went around as a Muggle reading about Hitler. Him and Voldemort seemed to be twins, they both had an undeniable charisma, they could speak well, and neither embodied their image for the future that they promulgated. Hitler, well for one thing he was Austrian, not German, he was dark and short unlike the Aryan ideal, and also there is the possibility, although not documented, that he had Jewish ancestry. And Voldemort is exactly what he hates, a Muggleborn, it is strange how they both try to deny themselves. At any rate, except for that separate belief there is very little difference between the two, so at the beginning it didn't matter which side I was on. There was only Voldemort who appreciated my abilities, and Dumbledore who appreciated Sirius'. Until I met her.

Sorry to keep going back to her without mentioning her, but she has been the secret part of my heart for so long that it seems wrong to tell someone else. Her name was Leah, but I didn't always call her that, no it was usually Lee, or Leelee or Lolita. Lolita was from the book she used to giggle about, it was written by a Muggle, Nabokov I believe, about a sexy school girl and the man who loved her, Humphrey Humphrey. She used to tease me about him, called me his name, I think that she was implying that I was a dirty old man, I don't know where she got that idea from, at least the old bit. But that was only when she was in a naughty mood, and I was too.

I suppose you want to know where I met her. I have been putting this off, didn't want to remember, but I do. Lord Voldemort had several residences, with different activities at each one, I was usually at one, far from whatever activities they were involved in, I needed peace and quiet. I know they didn't torture much, there was little point to it, they only did so for information, and even that they were often too arrogant to collect believing themselves invincible. Most often they killed, sure that is bad, but they could do much worse, I have felt cruciatus on me, I would rather die rather than feel it again. Pain can be worse than death, is often worse, death is sleep and then something. Who knows what? If it is just sleep I think I would really like it, I have been tired for so long, ever since she disappeared. I had only just recently come to this residence, it had been vacated for me, as it suited the conditions I needed for my potions, privacy and winter weather, there were particular herbs that I needed to gather in that particular climate.

Lord Voldemort was very interested in my researches and tried to cater to them. He vacated this manor for me in a hurry when I told him the new directions that my research was going into. I asked him for no one to be there. I work better on my own, if you see the potions that I do in Hogwarts and are amazed, you should see what I am capable of when I have everything to my own desires. He was worried briefly as to how I would cope with no helpers, as to meals and suchlike, but I assured him anyone who can do potions should be able to cook. He looked after my interests, because they were looking after his. Do you mind if I have a glass of water? I have been talking for some time, although I don't really know why I am explaining this to you, except maybe to help you understand. Or maybe that it is not it at all. Maybe it is to explain it to myself. Or maybe it is just a way to pass time while I sit here and wait. Probably waiting for the sky to fall down. But it was a promise, and although I may break allegiances I never break promises.

I arrived on a Sunday I think, at any rate all the Muggle towns that I passed over on my broomstick to get there were all deserted, which is an occurrence peculiar to Sundays in British towns. When I arrived, I found the manor empty as requested. I remember being pleased, it was a sign of how much the Lord appreciated me, or rather my talents, but as I am largely seen in regard to my talents I suppose that equates to the same thing. I walked in, and placed my bags in the largest master bedroom I could find. Then I thought that I would explore, try to find an area which would suit my work. It was a traditional manor, with dark reds and greens and dark, dark wood. It was the kind of house that I would like for myself, that I wanted for myself, I own it now. It was a dream house for me. As you have probably noticed I tend to frequent dungeons, so they were the first place that I checked. They are often better for storing ingredients, the cooler milder temperature. It is not just because I like to hide in the dark and dank recesses, although there is that as well. They remind me of her. Nearly everything reminds me of her.

Before I met her, I always wondered what love was, my mother told me that when she met my father she just knew. She was lucky, most purebloods have arranged marriage. They met in school, and luckily both their pedigrees suited their parents, while they suited each other. Most people like me don't have that, I never expected to have that. That was why she surprised me. I never expected to have that kind of love, I am not a handsome or pretty man. I am not really a particularly charming one either. I know that. That is what makes me very cynical about relationships, I have never expected that and think anyone who offers anything is trying to play a joke. I suppose I can be glad of the situation, that it brought us together, but I also cannot stand the thought of what she experienced. She never told me, but I knew.

I went down into the dungeons. I never expected to hear someone singing. I hadn't heard that in a while. It was too undignified for Deatheaters, not this quiet singing, that bounced around the cold walls. I didn't know what to think at the time, for I had asked specifically for this place to be vacated, besides no Deatheater would sing. Or would they? I was very annoyed at this person who was singing so happily. I thought briefly that they must have left some house elf behind to look after me anyway. I was so annoyed, but I smothered the thought, I saw no need to be angry, I just would tell them to leave, and then I would be left to myself. The singing came from the end of the corridor. So I followed it along. There were doors all along into rooms that I longed to explore, but I thought, only when I am alone. I feel safer alone. There is no one around then to do things to you. The last door was barred, with a huge lock on it. I had not expected that. To be perfectly honest thinking back I did not know what I expected. I suppose it is very clichéd to say that I did not expect this, but it was true. I did not expect it. I suppose that is why I didn't know how to deal with it.

The singing, very obviously, was coming from behind that locked door. I knocked on it. The singing stopped, but now my curioisity was piqued. Of course I was not stupid I knew that they took the occasional prisoner, for whatever reason, but I had specifically asked for this to be vacated. Usually they just killed the leftovers, not me, I kept myself separate, I always have, just because I believe that both sides are the same doesn't mean that I condone either of their acions. All I am saying is both as worse as the other, so it doesn't really matter which side I am on. I generally keep myself separate, both Voldemort and Dumbledore knew that. Why do you think that Dumbledore let me come back? Much as the light wizarding world condones torture for our punishment, they prefer for us not to do it, it is just plain unfair. I opened the door but held my wand ready. Then she ran out. And hugged me. I had not been hugged in years, not since my mother passed away when I was in fourth year.

I remember her saying "thank god thank god" over and over again into my chest. I didn't know what to do except to awkwardly put my arms around her. For a while I had just existed, now I lived. I told you it wasn't special, or at least not special to you, all of you people who are sitting there waiting for a soap opera to be unloaded. Well in a sense it is a soap opera. Leah. Her name was Leah. I don't know how long she had been in there, but it had been some time. She was cold and her clothes had been ripped when they first dragged her in, dragged through the mud. They would have been as black as mine before that. Almost as soon as she hugged me she collapsed, she had used a lot of her little remaining strength to do that one action. I didn't even think like a wizard anymore, I didn't try to hold her up with spells from the wand. I just let us both collapse. Because that was what I felt like doing as well. Putting myself into someone elses hands.

"you saved me... Severus you saved me". She said as she lay on the floor staring into my face. I didn't have heart to tell her that I was one member of the group that stuck her in there in the first place. "yes I did" I said, trying to act nonchalant as I too was looking in her face. Beauty is in the eye of the beholder they say, well I saw something beautiful in her, maybe it was the way she smiled, smiled at me, as if I was worth smiling at. I don't know what it was, and I don't care.

So I suppose that answers your questioin, I fell in love, and she was a Muggleborn. I had to go to the side that would protect her interests. So I went to Dumbledore, because of her, for her. I went to Voldemort first, and suggested working as a spy at Hogwarts, I may have been doing things for her, but I'm not stupid. That isn't enough. What do you want my life story? Well I will continue, fill in the details, so to speak.

Well I did as any normal male would, I lied, I said yes. I said I had saved her. Then I realised I wanted that to be true so I did. I decided then that I didn't want to be on Voldemort's side, because he had hurt this girl, indirectly probably, but still, so she looked to someone like me for help. Stupid isn't it. That you can realise in a second, or maybe it wasn't a second, maybe it was later. It seemed that we had laid on the floor for years, but it had probably only been minutes before I was helping her upstairs. Again without my wand, I don't think it was to prove anything, it was rather I wanted, and she wanted that closeness. That touching of someone else. But at some point I know I realised that. If it wasn't then, it was some point soon.

I don't think that I have voluntarily touched anyone else since then. It's strange isn't it? I mean when Voldemort disappeared I could have found someone, there are many desperate witches out there, I mean look at Minerva. I'm not being disparaging by saying that they are desperate, nor am I specifically saying that it is only women who are desperate. It is just that women are the only ones that I would be interested in. Nor am I trying to be mean to Minerva... I think that I am just as desperate. Desperation is not something wrong, it just means you want something, someone who makes you feel special in a more than friendly way. I think that everyone should want that. To be perfectly honest I think that everyone does. Besides I like teasing Minerva, it has almost become a bit of a game. We both complain about each others houses, increasing the house rivalry, but behind walls I reckon you could say that we were friends or at least as close as I can get to friends. So I'm not being mean, or at least she would recognise that, and probably tease me as well. Except somehow it doesn't seem so bad coming from her.

I put her to bed without knowing her name. She was just so tired, the circles under her eyes were turning a light blue black that sagged with a tiredness beyond relief. She lay there hardly able to speak. In bemused bewilderment she watched me move around. The coherency she had possessed earlier had disappeared with her energy and now she waited for an explanation. I stood there waiting for one too, I don't know whether I was waiting for hers or mine. We were both waiting for something. As am I. Still waiting, still hoping for time to pass quickly, and it doesn't, it never does. Maybe if I wait here forever I will see her then. It sounds tempting. I'm tired of pretending.