Pit of Snakes (Lucius, Draco, Snape x Reader)

90 • Back Then

A/N: Let's go back in time.

This chapter contains several smaller snippets, so the chapter is longer than usual. Make it double, and then more.

It's all about Snape this time.

I'm so anxious. Let me know what you think.

**

October, 1995 - the day after Y/N ran away.

«Acute illness?», Snape's deep voice rang through the room. He hadn't meant to utter his words so loudly.

Dumbledore had gathered his staff one early morning to let them know of your absence by your mutual agreement. He'd just explained the reason to be due to an illness, and offered very little else for the staff to go by. Perhaps it truly was enough, because no one in that room was supposed to care so deeply that further details mattered.

So, when Snape questioned it rather loudly, most of the people in that room looked to him in bewilderment. Why would he, of all people, care that they had one less student to worry about? If anything, they'd expected him to be the most relieved one. Happy, even.

Dumbledore cleared his throat and looked to the darker wizard, «yes. The details are confidential, Severus. Though I must say, I never expected you to be concerned».

Snape clenched his jaw, «not at all», he said in a drawl and looked at the headmaster with an expression that lacked emotions whatsoever, «it only seems peculiar to me, Albus. That a student would leave on such short notice due to an illness, when Hogwarts has been treating students for many of the sort for decades. Why not this time, hm?»

The old man peered at Snape over his glasses, «oh, yes. Good question, my friend. Alas, I must disappoint you», he paused for a moment as he began unwrapping the plastic of one of his little lemon sherbets, «these are private matters. Though I can assure you that the girl is safe».

The dark haired wizard rose to his feet and parted his lips to speak, «very well», he turned on his heel and walked towards the door, «I have business to attend to. Good day».

Snape hadn't lied. He did have a lot of work to do. But he hadn't gotten himself to do any of it, instead he had roamed the many corridors, hoping to find you casually walking down one. As if you'd never left in such a hurry. Needless to say, that never happened.

In his private chambers he had sat down on his sofa, with a glass of Firewhiskey in his hand, and gone over your goodbye over and over.

He knew you'd been sad, but didn't know why. He knew you'd apologised, but was given no reason why.

And then you'd run away, still with no explanation.

-

4. December, 1995.

«Leave», Snape exclaimed loudly after the seventh knock on his door. He let out a frustrated sigh as the person on the other side didn't seem to care that he did not want visitors. And as they knocked three more times fury twisted within him. «I said; leave!», he growled a second time, but the knocker showed no mercy to the Potions Master.

He staggered to his feet, but had to hold onto the table next to him for a moment to steady himself. Letting out another frustrated sigh, Snape attempted to fight the chaos of rage inside him as he lumbered to his door.

«What is the meaning of this?», he hissed as he opened the door. On the other side was none other than Minerva McGonagall. The concerned facial expression she wore a second ago turned into one of horror as the smell of alcohol filled her nostrils. Angrily, the woman stomped past him and into his private chambers. Snape furrowed his eyebrows and groaned. «Minnie, I did not say y-»