The Rise of a Snape

Blame

Harry was faintly aware of somebody screaming, screaming, and screaming. A messy haired man was lying still upon a wooden floor, rectangular glasses askew and fixed brown eyes forever looking up at the popcorn ceiling. The ruins of a family being broken apart stunk in the small house.

"Please, take me instead, not Harry," Desperate voices, and a terrible laugh. There was dark red hair splayed upon a beige carpet, the last desperate tears painting her pale face in sorrow.

The scene warped into accusing, hollow eyes that looked as if they were carved from ice framed by the dark room filled with globes, prophecies, and futures fated to be had.

"This is YOUR FAULT!" Harry watched, immobilized, as the accusing eyes were suddenly ripped away, sucked into the Veil of death.

"Why did you do it, Potter," a young man with a yellow tie asked softly, "why did you make me take the cup with you?" Harry could not meet his eyes, trying with all his might to apologize, to say that there was nothing that he could do, but no words would come.

And suddenly, there he was! That traitorous rat, a long silver knife wrapped in his trembling metal hand, a perpetually nervous look on his pinched, pale face. There were so many warped voices of so many people, yelling and jeering and blaming....

"All your fault!"

"Neither can live while the other survives."

"Potter."

"I am dead because of you!"

"I died for you!"

"You were NEVER mine!"

"Potter-"

"Potter!"

"12 years in Azkaban for you!"

"I will never..."

"How could you..."

"Po- wake up, it's just a dream!"

There were too many voices, too much terrible screaming and unforgivable words.

"You were never my son!"

"All your fault."

"HARRY!"

Harry awoke with a start, eyes snapping upon and heart racing to meet eyes with Snape. He was vaguely aware that he was sweating through Dudley's gray shirt that he was using for pajamas.

Harry didn't notice that Snape's hand was clamped on his shoulder until he had hurriedly removed it. 

Neither mentioned the use of Harry's first name.

It was dark in his room, and the bright moon provided a sharp contrast to the shadows of the room. Snape was dressed in a black nightshirt and gray sweats, looking pale and jagged in the dark room.

Harry looked down, embarrassed.

Just a dream...

There was a short silence.

"You were having a nightmare." Snape said stiffly, eyebrows furrowed.

Harry flushed and leaned back into his pillows, avoiding Snape's steady stare. Yeah, no kidding.