Through The Eyes of Ravenclaw

Severus Snape opened his eyes, and immediately wished he had kept them closed. Even in the darkness of the dungeons rooms, the light was bright. Tiny needles of pain danced in his head. He knew, before long, the Really Bad Headache would escalate into the Screaming Merlin Kill Me Now Headache. This did not bode well for the day. There was a weight on his chest that just didn't seem to want to move, even though he feebly raised his hand to push it away. He connected with something furry. Furry? His brow creased in confusion sending another wave of pain and nausea through his skull. A soft moan escaped his pale, dry lips.

"Mer-ow?"

"Stop screeching you wretched animal." He winced again, pushing the cat away. Moving slower than he ever thought possible, Snape swung his legs off the bed, and rolled to a sitting position. The room swam before his eyes and he fought against the primal urge to vomit. A tear escaped unnoticed, and trickled down his sallow cheek. Merlin's beard, he thought. The pain has never been this bad.

The cat seemed to know, instinctively, not to rub up against the surly Potions Master. It sat on the bed patiently as Snape staggered to his potions cabinet. Gingerly, he searched through his stores looking for a good headache remedy. He knew there was one in the cabinet somewhere, but his addled mind just couldn't place where it was. His hand jerked as another spasm of agony laced through his head and neck. As a result, the soft tinkling of phials clinking together caused a groan to come from him. The sound, in his pain-filled mind, was deafening. His vision swam before him, making the cabinet contents meld into one blurry shape. He squinted, but that motion erupted into more suffering.

Jumping off the bed, the cat made its cautious way over to the food bowls placed on the hearth. It lapped at the water in the dish. The soft sounds of water gently slapping against the side of the dish rolled through his head like thunder. He sobbed once, uncontrollably, as he struggled to find relief. None was forthcoming from the cabinet. He felt like he was going to die.

Staggering over the soft rug, Snape knelt down by the fireplace. His insides were heaving... creating an ever-increasing wave of dizziness and pounding in his skull. He no longer felt like he was going to die, he wanted to. Somehow, he managed to grab a handful of Floo power and toss it into the fireplace. The bright flash of green scared the cat making him jump and hide under the bed hissing, and Snape gagged against the fresh wave of nausea.

"Pomfrey" he rasped, as gray started to cloud his vision.

Madame Pomfrey's head popped out of the fireplace. She started when she saw the condition of the Potions Master. "Professor?"

"Help." Snape gasped out the word before his world went black

When the world righted itself, Snape wasn't in his dungeons. He could tell the light filtering through his eyelids was excruciatingly pure. The stark white walls and sheets of the Infirmary greeted him as he opened his eyes. Groaning softly, he knew that he wasn't going to be allowed out of this white hell until Pomfrey was satisfied his head was better. His head. It didn't hurt. That was one miracle at least. There were hushed whispers all around him, and he strained his ears to hear the conversation.

"I will not let him go like this, Albus. He is too weak."

"Poppy, I know you worry, but he is his own man. Let him decide for himself. He hasn't had an episode like this in almost a year."

"One year to the day. The man needs help. You can't expect me to believe that this is only a once a year happening." Snape's eyes narrowed.

He could hear Albus sigh. "Poppy. My dear friend. Severus gets this way once a year for a good reason. We cannot intrude into his private life like this."

"Albus, do you know why he gets these headaches? It can't be because another term has started. There has to be another explanation." Snape went very still. He knew very well why his headaches returned on this day, every year. Albus knew too. He prayed to whoever wanted to listen that Dumbledore would keep his confidences.

"I'm sorry, Poppy. I can't." Albus sounded sad. Snape hated hearing that tone, and knowing that he was the cause of it.

He grimaced. There was no way to sneak out of the hospital wing without Poppy or Albus knowing, so he cleared his throat. The whispering stopped.

The curtain was pulled aside, and both Poppy and Albus came into view. Poppy was every inch the MediWitch. She bustled around him, wand waving, checking his vital signs and pain levels. Albus hid a smile as she let out an annoyed sniff at discovering Snape was indeed well.

"You may go when you have had some breakfast, Severus." He almost snarled at her familiar use of his first name.

"Thank you, Poppy." His tone was anything but pleasant. She glared at him and walked away. Albus sat down on the edge of the bed.

"We could almost set the time by your headaches, Severus," Albus murmured gently. "Do you want to talk about it?"

"Did I last year?"

Albus shook his head.

"Then you know the answer, don't you?" Severus snapped. He deflated a bit when he saw the quick look of hurt in his friend's eyes. "I'm sorry, Albus. I can't." The two men fell silent for a moment. "I dreamed about her again last night." Albus looked sorrowfully at Snape. Snape's dark eyes shone as he schooled himself not to let the tears fall. "I miss her so much sometimes."

"I know, Severus." Albus laid a gentle hand on Snape's. "She wouldn't want you to make yourself suffer like you do every year."

Snape shrugged listlessly. Albus sighed. "I'm here if you need me, Severus. You know that, don't you?" At Snape's nod, he stood up. "The students will not be arriving until tomorrow. Rest. Mourn. Do what you need to. We expect you to be your normal charming self in time to greet the students for the year." Albus's eyes were twinkling as he looked at his friend, but Snape couldn't manage one back.

Back down in his dungeon rooms, Snape sat in his plush, emerald green armchair in front of the fireplace. There was no fire, but he gazed into its cavern anyway. The cat jumped up onto his lap, already purring for its master.

"Alkeides, just lie down already." He automatically stroked the cat's dark fur, taking the sting out of his words. Alkeides made himself comfortable and promptly went to sleep. Feeling an odd sense of comfort from the simple petting motion, Snape's gaze wandered to the mantle where a single picture stood.

It was old; the child in the image was maybe eleven, the woman about thirty-five. They waved and smiled at the morose man in the chair. The woman blew a kiss. Snape watched his younger self give his mother an impulsive hug. His eyes closed. He shook his head trying to clear the images floating there.

He was just about to go to Hogwarts. His mother was so proud.

"I am so proud of you, Severus." His mother smiled at him.

"Thank you Mum!" Snape the younger gazed up at his mother with adoration. "I'll be a good boy, I promise! I'll make new friends, I'll study really hard, and I will make sure I listen really close to the teachers!" Snape was bouncing on the balls of his feet. He really was looking forward to this new adventure!

Snape the older groaned. He shook his head again. These damned images just kept on haunting him. He remembered telling his Father about his letter.

"You had better be in Slytherin, boy. Or you will not be welcomed home."

Young Snape winced, and looked down at his shoes. "Yes Papa."

"Look at me when I'm talking to you!" His father grabbed the boy's chin and forced his gaze up. "You will behave as I expect. Do not draw attention to yourself. You are there to learn, not socialize!"

"Yes Papa" Tears threatened the little boy's eyes, and he tried hard to stop them from falling.

His father raised his fist. "Stop your tears, or I will give you something to cry about!"

Severus leapt off the chair and rubbed his eyes. Alkeides landed on the floor and took off to hide under the dresser. He started to pace around the room, trying desperately to clear his mind. His memories, however, had something else in mind.

Severus lay in bed that same night. Even through the closed door, he could hear his father and mother arguing.

"I will not spend money on that stupid school! I have more important things to do!"

"Why won't you give Severus a chance? This is his chance to make his mark in the world. He has good in him, I can feel it!"

"Snapes are not good! How dare you even think that! You will not molly coddle the boy into thinking that he will go far! That child," he sneered the word distastefully, "Will be nothing more than a lackey for some greater purpose. He is only going to Hogwarts to SHUT YOU UP!" There was the sound of skin on skin, and his mother fell silent.

Tears started to trickle down the boy's face as he tried desperately to remember the comforting words his mother always had for him.

His mind fast-forwarded Severus to his first Christmas home. School was tough, and he hadn't made any friends. His mother was waiting at King's Cross for him. She hugged him, not minding the stares she got from the others.

"I've missed you so much!"

"I missed you too, Mummy!" Snape felt better now that he had his mother in his arms. That comfort was only to last until he got home. His father was drunk again, and forced Severus to duel with him in order to gain access to the house. In front of his father, Severus' mother didn't do anything to help him. She couldn't, and he knew it.

He heard more fighting and hitting that night, and he vowed that he would do what it took to get his mother out of danger. Away from his father. He would take care of her. His angel. His Light. His Hero.

Snape's mind played snippets from school, his penchant for being alone, and his realization that his father was right. He wasn't as good as the others. He became the target of the Gryffindor bullies at school, and his paternal bully at home. His only comfort was his mother sneaking into his room at night when he was home. They dreamed about what it would be like to escape from the Manor. To be on their own. He promised then, a blood oath, that he would do whatever it took to help her. He would never leave her here, with him. He could feel his blood boil when he thought about his father. Night after night, Severus and his mother would plan what they called "The Great Escape". Since his father was drunk most nights, they would patiently wait until he passed out. Then they would gather up just the things that they needed.

Already Severus and his mother were saving precious galleons for their departure. He chose to forgo many new things for second hand ones to save the extra. They both knew that sacrifices would have to be made. When they were away from the Manor, and prying eyes, they would hail the Knight Bus and travel as far as they could to start a new life. It was these nights of planning that kept Severus going throughout the years. The only thing that stopped him from just giving up completely.

The nasty visage of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named wormed its way into his mind. The promises of power. Of wealth - separate from his father's. Of revenge. He took it without a moment's hesitation.

The day he killed his father was one of the greatest days of his life. His father had beaten his mother bad enough that Severus needed to make a healing potion for her. He walked over to his father and told him that he would never hurt another innocent again, and whispered the Killing Curse. He and his mother were finally free. His vow was complete.

The Dark Lord, however, had other ideas. He had Snape participate in raids, beatings and other attacks. Finally, he was made to attack a society party filled with Muggle-lovers. He was terrified to see his mother in the group.

His mind slowed down and forced him to relive every detail. A sob broke through Snape's defenses and he slowly lowered himself onto the sofa. His hands covered his face.

The sounds of screaming and crying played about in his mind. He heard and saw the light of his life begging for hers. He saw his own hand, holding his wand - a gift from his mother - towards the weeping woman. He heard the snake like voice telling him to kill her, and finally his own voice murmuring the Killing Curse. His mother's last words to him were a plea for her son to save her.

A tear escaped unnoticed. "I'm sorry, Mother."