Rating:
PG
House:
The Dark Arts
Characters:
Severus Snape
Genres:
Drama
Era:
Multiple Eras
Spoilers:
Philosopher's Stone Prizoner of Azkaban
Stats:
Published: 08/18/2003
Updated: 08/18/2003
Words: 734
Chapters: 1
Hits: 750

Greasy Git

Rynne

Story Summary:
After the events of Oct. 31, 1981, Snape thinks, about his life and about the Marauders.

Posted:
08/18/2003
Hits:
750
Author's Note:
This is my first time writing in first-person, so dunno how I did. I hope it seems like real thoughts, and real thoughts can be rather random, so it skips around a bit.

I don't know what to think anymore.

Potter's dead. Both of them. And so is Pettigrew. Because Black betrayed them.

Black? Of all people to become a Death Eater, I never would have thought...I didn't know...so now they're dead. But then again, so is he. I don't have to spy for Albus anymore...I don't have to betray those I considered my family until just a year ago. But then, my 'family' was a cruel, sadistic bunch, as easy to turn on themselves as their enemies.

Family...Potter's is dead now. The baby. How could a baby defeat one of the most powerful Dark Lords there ever was...? Albus isn't saying, but I have a feeling he knows. He always knows...even when you don't want him to and try to keep it from him, he knows.

But he didn't know about Black. Nobody even thought of Black, not even I, and I knew that the bastard was already willing to murder people at the age of sixteen! But he betrayed Lupin, so why not the Potters and Pettigrew?

Lupin...I wonder how he feels about all of this. He's the only one left of their little group, and I can't help thinking he deserves it. Werewolves are monsters, flesh-eating, bloodthirsty beasts. Even when he was courteous to me, I knew he was just mocking me, just like the other bastards he called friends. Monsters in human form, arrogant ones who didn't give a damn for anyone but themselves.

Except Lily. I can't call her Evans anymore, and I can't think of her as Potter, no matter who she married. Albus said she sacrificed herself for that baby of hers...very Gryffindor thing to do, of course. The Dark Lord didn't want her, he just wanted that baby. So Lily died in defense of her son. And Potter died in defense of his wife and child.

Potter...I hated him. Self-righteous arrogant Gryffindor that he was, always so convinced that he's so morally superior to all of us nasty little Slytherins...but he saved my life. From his friends...I bet they were angry with him the next day. Spoiled their fun, he did. And then they had the gall to say Lupin was the victim! Lupin, the bloodthirsty monster who I'm sure would have absolutely loved to have torn my throat out! And Albus sided with them, as he always sided with the Gryffindor twits.

Albus always sided with the Gryffindors...so I had to find someone who wouldn't hate me because I was Slytherin. Someone who could give me the recognition I deserved for all of my hard work, while Black and Potter just sat on their lazy arses and still go the highest marks in the class!

So I found Him. But he didn't give me anything but pain. Pain for others, pain for myself...and then he decided he needed to kill the one man I couldn't...the man I owed a blasted life-debt to. Potter. Potter did this, and Potter did that, and oh wasn't Potter the clever one. But Potter's dead. The man I owe a life-debt to is dead. What am I supposed to do now?

And it was Black who betrayed Potter. First Black betrayed his family for his friends, and then he betrays his friends. Black never cared for anyone who was not himself, though at times...at times it seemed like he cared for Potter. Cared for Lupin. But not Pettigrew. No one cared for Pettigrew.

And now Pettigrew's dead too. In a last pathetic attempt to prove he did have courage, I suppose. He was the one who found Black. Who threatened Black. And who got killed for his pains. He always was a stupid boy.

But now the Dark Lord's gone. Potter, Lily, and Pettigrew are dead. Black's in prison. Lupin's alone. But so am I. Alone, as always. I'm just the greasy git, and no one cares about greasy gits. No one cares if a greasy git's parents were always fighting. No one cares if a greasy git's always being bullied in school. No one cares if a greasy git's been nearly murdered. No one cares if a greasy git becomes and Death Eater, and no one cares if he becomes a spy. Greasy gits are greasy gits, beneath anything but your hatred and contempt.

No one cares about a greasy git, and he doesn't care about them. But sometimes he wishes to.