Why Me

Even at a young age, Severus Snape didn't think much of self-pity. However, even he was not above the occasional bouts of it.

At age eight, his mother died, and his father turned into someone that young Severus did his best to avoid. One day, while hiding in one of the restrooms at his home on Spinner's End, he looked at himself in the mirror. Black eyes stared back at him, and he asked himself, "Why me?"

*****

At age eleven, he boarded the Hogwarts train with a horrible cold. He found a compartment, and blew his nose just as a group of boys his age came in.

"What's your name?" one of them asked.

"Severus." He sniffed, trying to clear his nose.

"Hear that? James, meet Snivellus."

The boys continued taunting him, and he ran from that compartment to one that was unoccupied. He hung his head in his hands. "Why me?"

*****

At age sixteen, Severus suffered the most humiliating thing in his life to that point. Hung upside down in front of the school, saved by a Mudblood, then stripped. The other Slytherins weren't letting him hear the end of it.

He heard the snickers as he stormed down the hall. Avery grabbed his arm and he spun around to face him.

"The Dark Lord can protect you, Severus," Avery hissed in his ear, "tonight in the forest."

Severus nodded, not allowing the tears to fall.

As the mark was burned into his arm, before he passed out from the pain, he had just enough time to think, "Why me?"

*****

At age seventeen, Severus approached the Shrieking Shack. The Dark Lord would certainly be interested in this passage onto school grounds... along with anything else he may find.

James Potter grabbed him, pulling him from what he later found out to be a deadly trap. Black never stopped laughing at the situation.

Just as it was dawning on him that he owed a wizard's debt to Potter, Dumbledore swore him to secrecy on what he had learned. He punched the wall in the corridor and cursed. "Why me?"

*****

At age twenty-one, Severus approached Dumbledore; he couldn't take the punishments from The Dark Lord any longer. His head hung in shame, he spoke to his former headmaster.

"I seek asylum, and I'll do anything you ask to get it."

Dumbledore, his damnable eyes twinkling, just pulled the pale man into a comforting embrace. "You have no idea how long I have waited for you to come to me, Severus."

That night, feeling the safest he had in years, he traced the tattoo on his forearm. "Why me?"

*****

At age thirty-two, Severus had the worst class imaginable. There sat James Potter's insufferable son, staring into space with his Mudblood mother's eyes.

He circled the class and stood behind Potter. "Mr. Potter, were you going to stare your potion into creating itself? Or perhaps you were thinking, 'Let's redecorate the dungeons!' Get to work, NOW!" he seethed at the paling Gryffindor brat.

Just as he was turning to get back to his Slytherins, he heard a loud crash as Longbottom's cauldron fell to the ground. The potion inside was spreading rapidly across the floor, and smoke was filling the room. With a quick flick of his wand, he vanished the mess.

He stared up at the ceiling and shook his head. "Why me?"

******

At age thirty-six, Dumbledore pulled him aside and asked him to teach his enemy's son Occlumency.

"Sir, I must object, I can never..."

One look from Dumbledore stilled any further objections, and he sighed.

"Only if I may use your Pensieve. I refuse to have that boy have full access to my memories."

The twinkle returned to the man's eyes, he smiled and said, "Of course, dear boy."

Dumbledore turned and walked away, leaving Severus to wonder, "Why me?"

******

At age thirty-seven, Severus did the hardest thing of his life.

He held a wand at his friend and mentor. He listened with his ears at the pleading in Dumbledore's voice, even as he listened with his mind at the request he knew he had to fulfill.

He didn't have the ability to conjure the hatred he would need for the curse to be effective. Dammit, I... He shot feelings of love at the man.

"Severus... please..." Do it, my boy.

Even if the curse didn't kill him, the fall from the tower would.

As he fled the scene, his heart screamed, "Why me?"

******

At age thirty-eight, Severus fought in the final battle.

In his Death Eater robes and mask, he picked off others in the same garb trying to kill Potter. He idly noticed that the boy must have been training hard... he hardly needed Severus's help.

Severus snorted as he shot a curse at another Death Eater getting to close to the boy. "Or not," he said under his breath.

Before long--or so it seemed in the heat of battle--Potter was face-to-face with the Dark Lord. Severus held his breath--along with everyone else on the field.

The brother wands met, Potter was being drained. Snape mustered all the hatred he couldn't for Dumbledore. He pointed his wand at the pair, and silently cast the Cruciatus. The Dark Lord's pain was enough to give Potter the edge.

After the Dark Lord's final breath, Potter looked around the field. "Who did it? Who helped me?"

Severus sneered as none of the Order stepped up to the plate. He sighed, he was doomed anyhow.

He pulled his mask off.

Potter's green eyes glared at him.

"Who helped you?" Severus spoke, his voice low, "Why, me."