the_iscariot

( Cut for spoilers from HBP movie. )


Severus Snape
Harry Potter
387

OOC: Come on, I really had too.

I think the better question to ask, is if there is, who decides that?

This is the sort of question that you don’t have to answer so much as you have to just chum the waters enough that if caught the criminal (and yes, let’s call him a criminal because it adds just the right amount of drama and subterfuge) can make you believe he had no other choice but to continue on his course of action. Alright, pay attention class, you're about to get a lesson.

He can ask you if the law was fair, or moral? Perhaps he’ll use both.

Can a man in good conscience betray his moral compass, and integrity to abide by rules and laws he finds to be amoral or objectionable and if he does, would do you really want to live in a society made up of such cattle?

A society of good Germans would only profit murderers and torturers, wouldn’t it?

Or, let’s change it a bit. Can a man in good conscience do terrible and ugly things that would rent his soul in two if it meant preserving a society, or a school? And if he can, do you really want a society purchased by such fell deeds?

Is a kingdom built on corpses still a kingdom or does the blood run too deep and thick?

Why don’t you ask me what you’re really curious about; does might equal right?

Yes. No. Sometimes. Maybe.

And let’s not talk about espionage…


Severus Snape
Harry Potter
239

What are you wearing?

The obvious then? Clothes.

The description as follows: black, well fitting, not very old, not entirely season appropriate either but they suit me. I suppose I could rattle on about them being practical as well as suited to my personality but isn't that what countless other entries will say, in different but altogether unimagined tones.

Or they might stretch it out and fill out this rather disappointing prompt with dozen of pointless details.

Like perhaps, they'll include collections of all the emotional baggage people get from lifetimes of excuses and lies and alterations. Memories are rarely as clean cut and uncomplicated as people would like them to be. This is even truer for regrets. They'll use that murkiness to add details and importance to actions or items that really have none. People like things to mean something. Especially if they don't.

They don't like the variables. The senselessness.

If it doesn't, it'll only be a matter of time before people fill it up. It'll be their pleasure. Everything should mean something.

Even the mundane like clothing.


Severus Snape
Harry Potter
179

Lily.

Not real Lily: the temper-to-match-his-own, and far-to-Gryffindor Lily; he really doesn’t have any use for her. She hurts too much. She’s like his memories, something taunt and unhappy and an expression in green eyes that freeze him in a spot before she disappears and with her, the memories, and anything of worth inside of him. That Lily he doesn’t remember. That Lily is still too much alive in Remus and Sirius and in that boy who has her eyes and his face.

He dreams about the Lily that should have been.

It’s never anything profound or lascivious. His dreams are actually rather dull. She talks while he works. She’s pushing a stroller. She’s wearing a pale yellow dress that’s see through (maybe not all that dull…) and he laughs there: a deep rich baritone laugh that he’s doesn’t recognize. Not it matters to her. When he moves to change rooms or scenes (it is his dream after all) he will spare a glance backwards to her and there she is, green eyes patient and waiting.

It’s the Lily that should be. Alive. Vital. His. The other one he can cast aside too easily, forget the reasons why he remembers her most days and treat her son as he would James’ child. He won’t say he doesn’t love her too- just not as much.

Besides, it’s better this way. Safer.

Here, he has control.


Severus Snape
Harry Potter
233

It looked like something that belonged in the Department of Mysteries up close, or at the very least in the cellar of some pure blood’s home. As high as the ceiling with a golden frame, the mirror loomed over everyone in the room and inscribed on it’s crown with great care was the warning “Erised stra ehru oyt ube cafru oyt on wohsi.”

Flitwick, who of those assembled was of course the most interested in it, stood in the center of the room, swallowed up by what he saw in the glass. He would tilt his head one way or the other every so often as if he was trying to see past the reflection to the trick behind it, and finally after what felt like hours, he shivered and turned away from it.

“What did you see?” Sprout asked, brightly from her place near Snape. She was holding two small bottles in her hands, clearly waiting for the Potions Master to finish with whatever he was writing. “Was it accurate?”

( Read more... )


Severus Snape
Harry Potter
450

- Death Eater
- Order of the Phoenix member
- Spy
- Assassin
- Wizard
- Bastard
- Professor

Severus has never been one to count his life in moments. He’s aware of them, of course, painfully and somewhat obsessively he knows but only after they’ve come in and rearranged his world. The big days have never ceased to hit him blind quickly and fiercely and without his consent but only after the fact; when he’s in the midst of it; he tends to continue about his mission or his tasks, or his games. It’s only when he stops does he realize what has happened.

He rarely, if ever, stops.

The night Eileen Prince died; he was there at the hospital. Tobias was at work (one job of three he had to pay for Lee’s medical bills) and he was sullen in the chair by her bed leafing through his textbook on History of Magic. He was aware- somewhat vaguely- that beside him she was sucking in shallow breaths. He wasn’t even aware of that the coughs had stopped until the small gray-white machine over his head had ceased to pulse. He didn’t remember punching the nurse’s button but he must have because in the next minute the room was filled with white-frocked doctors and candy stripers.

Some nurse had grabbed him into a firm embrace; mistaking his apathy for shock. He let her think that.

He took the Mark during time shared between Malfoy Manor, and the Carrow House. His arm was more bloodied from the lessons then they were the ceremony itself and although he had felt great pride now that the standard of skull and snake adored his skin; he had been more concerned with appraising the opal bracelet his boss had left for him before selling it to Burke and with that young Auror who sat trembling and praying for rescue.

The night he begged for Lily’s life had gone by so quick; he had to strain to remember it and the night he lost her was even quicker. He remembered thinking somehow that they should have been more- somehow more- but they weren’t. Not really. Just dates that he would remember like holidays and due dates.

He supposes- somewhere in the back of his mind- that this is a good thing. He’s a Spy. There’s too many earth-shattering moments that creep into his life; too many lives he can destroy. He doesn’t like to think about the ramifications of his actions.

Which is why, he hesitates now, as he grips the brass handle of the coffin and heaves it up in perfect unison with five other men and proceeds into the blinding sun of a crisp Spring today in a slow, measured pace.

He’s putting a student in the ground today. He knows he won’t the last.

And it’s why he wants nothing more then this day to be over.


Severus Snape
Harry Potter
466

CHASE THE MORNING



Normally, I don't use my muse journals for OOC stuff: but seriously- click it and fall in love with the best new movie EVER: Repo! The Genetic Opera.

www.Repo-opera.com

I'm so sorry for spamming your f-lists!

Replace the bottle of Scotch I stole from Minnie.

Grade that ever-growing stack of paperwork that is eating my desk

Find where I left my pocket-watch

Use Dobby for target practice

Use Harry for target practice

Pick up the Dry Cleaning

Make Dinner for the Heads of House

Polish my wand *smirks*

43.1 Amazon Wish List

The Constituents of Medical Plants
Andrew Pengelly

Shock Doctrine
Naomi Klein

( More boring stuff )
Halo 3

[cont]…didn’t speak about his military service at all, except for the occasional utterance in sleep, or a penchant for mooing at the ranks during state parades but even as a child, I knew better to question it. If Zayde or neighbors ever spoke it about, it was said that Tobias had a ‘bad war’ and soon after that utterance the subject was dropped.

Zayde was also a soldier, a career man, who had finally retired at the rank of Colonel. He must have had a good war, because for every question I had he had some exciting and adventurous story of places he’d been to and people he knew. A photograph of him with General Dempsey always held a place of honor in the kitchen and it was a favorite story of his that I should have been named Miles Christopher after the man. A story Eileen always sneered out, and spoke of Muggle brutality.

( Cut for content to be on the safe side )


Severus Snape
Harry Potter
618

Your result for The Chess Mess Test...

The Rook's Hawk

Take The Chess Mess Test at HelloQuizzy

What a question.


Severus Snape
Harry Potter
3

“I need a better reason to die then your wishes, Albus!” Snape’s voice was a viper but the Headmaster didn’t so much as break his stride. It did nothing to soothe the Potions Master’s mood. “You insist on sending me out on these wild chases with no clue or insight into the purpose and except that you wish them done.”

The Headmaster barely nodded.

“…I am doing your killing for you, Albus! You owe me this! What are you planning? What are you doing…sending us- all of the Order- across the country for trinkets and baubles. We should be fighting the war. We should be…”

Snape’s words were cut short by a burning sensation in his left arm. He clutched it to his chest before hesitating, looking around the empty hallway as if the strike of pain had suddenly reminded him of where he was.

When he looked up again, Albus was staring at him. Those cold blue eyes held no warmth. The Headmaster looked tired. It only served to annoy Snape more.

“I need a reason!” Snape hissed.

“No.” Albus returned quietly. “You don’t.” He turned on the professor now, his voice quiet and fierce. The air seemed to crackle around him, and despite himself, Snape withdrew. “Listen to me, very clearly, because I think you’ve forgotten. You will do exactly as I say, when I say it and why- because I keep you safe. More importantly, I keep him safe. If you question my methods or reasoning, you are more then welcome to return to your former Master.”

Snape sneered as he forced his eyes down.

“Those are your choices, Severus. They aren’t fair and they aren’t pretty but that is where you find yourself. What you cannot help must be endured. You’re going to have to trust me. Not because you want to, but because face it, Snape- I’m all you have.”

Snape glared for a long time at Dumbledore, too removed to bite back. In truth, he was too cowed by the truth to move at all for a time. Then, wordlessly, Snape bowed his head and turned to answer his summons.


Severus Snape
Harry Potter
356

-It is late at night, and Severus cannot be more then six years old. He finds his mother passed out on the floor of the hallway. He is too small to understand why his mother won’t get up, but he is too terrified to render aid. Instead he stays right there by his mother’s side, crying until his father comes home hours later.

Tobias takes out his disgust and frustration on Eileen while Severus watches. He does nothing to help her once more because he does not know how to. But that is when he realizes his parents are not a source of comfort.

- He is eleven, shopping for school supplies when he meets his grandfather for the first time. Aurelius Prince stares at him like he’s a bug, and never looks up at his own daughter; no words are exchanged, no curses. Prince simply slides on his gloves and walks away.

Snape knows then that while he is not Muggle, he is not Wizard either.

-He is 13 when he first hears Voldemort speak, even though he has heard about the Dark Lord since the moment he stepped foot into the Commons. The Wizard is leaning forward in his chair, shirt sleeves rolled up to his elbows and elbows resting on his knees as he speaks. He is very beautiful.

He meets Severus’ eyes and speaks to him alone for several minutes before turning his eyes away to catch someone else’s attention. When the Dark Lord is finished, he raises and stalks out. He puts his hand on Snape’s shoulder as he walks out. He doesn’t know it yet, but something left Severus with that touch.

-The man dies in his arms but Severus was not cradling him. He was trying to pin the man down so the potion could work. The victim twitched and convulsed and shook and then he didn’t move any more. Severus, use to poverty and extreme conditions, stares in disbelief for several moments.

He loses his dinner with a lot of preconceived notions in the garden of the home.

-The family is trembling and huddled together in the corner of the room. Snape has his back pressed close to the door, desperate for escape. He wonders where the Order is. He told them where he’d be.

Lucius Malfoy has yanked the mother from her teenage daughters, quiet and masked. He is only brutal behind the safety of his bone-white mask. Others, like Karkaroff and Rosier try to be bolder. Their faces have been seen. The woman sobs pitifully into her hands. Begging for his daughters. Lucius laughs at her fears, like he dirty himself with Muggle beds.

Snape continues to stare at the Floo. Where is the Order? Curse them.

He sends up Morsmordre and the Death Eaters turn him like a wounded hyena that has just ruined their hunt. “What have you done?” Lucius demands. Snape stammers, and tells them to go before the Aurors come. He’s right of course. They have to flee…

Lucius brings his cane hard against Snape’s brow before Apparating away. The wound is enough to endanger Snape’s own escape and he is trembling until he Floos to the safety of Hogwarts. He had not felt fear before, not in mask and cloak, and there in a panting mess in his bedroom he realizes the Death Eaters will kill him if they discover the truth.

He is not one of them.

-It is very late or very early; he cannot tell and Snape is exhausted. It’s that deep soul-weariness that keeps his whole body alert. He saw the Dark Lord rise. He saw the Death Eaters assembled, and he knows thing will become much worst. He also knows he will not see what comes after the much worst. But instead of going to his room, or his office or even Albus’ quarters, Severus moves to the kitchens without really knowing why.

He finds Sprout cradled in Flitwick’s small arms. McGonagall, stoic and steady, is resting across on the counter unable to give comfort. Everyone is terribly quiet, thinking of Cedric. Quietly, without meaning to or realizing he has, Severus moves to the other side of Sprout. Something breaks at his appearance, and the Hufflepuff Head slumps against his shoulder. Normally he would shrug her off and chastise her weakness. But he cannot find the voice to do either.

Instead, he sits there in the kitchens and worries what will become of his children too.

-It does not end in the Shrieking Shack, anymore so then his love for Lily ended at the Fat Lady. Very few who knew him (or at least claimed to) knew that. He remained in character and under the mask and cloak to the very end. The Dark Lord died knowing Snape was his. Albus died believing Snape truly loved him. Everyone believed his lies. To the very end.

And for a moment, Harry James Potter is tempted to let him continue. Snape needed his lies and his masks. So much more was taken and abandoned in the man’s life, that Harry wonders if in the end, was that all he had left.

But then again, endings are rarely for those who leave.

So the portrait is simple, and the most days, the figure of the portrait is as silent as the tomb. But still it’s exists, and it rests right there in the Headmaster’s Office as a ending Severus Snape never got to see.

Power.

Severus didn’t have it and others had it over him. Everything else he remembered: the anger, the fear, the hunger pains, the disgust, the shame; he knew at a very young age came from power he didn’t have.

He hated the ones with power too. He knew that. He hated the way his father made the world freeze; how Severus could feel his whole body tense when he heard the footsteps in the hallway, he could remember the way his father looked that moment before he brought about the pain: like a lion or bear challenged (and it was such a strange analogy since Severus was nearly an adult the first time he had even seen one of those creatures); he remembered seeing power there in his father’s eyes for all that power was. Pure. Feral. Consuming.

And he hated his mother for never having it. He hated himself for never having it. He knew his mother had given away her power when she married his dirty Muggle father. Diagon Alley had taught him that. Those who protected their magic, the purity of their blood had true power; not something raw and wild like his father. They had comforts, and no one ever looked down their noses at someone with the right name. No one ignored a Malfoy or Avery.

Severus’ first clear memory had been that if he had been born a Prince, he wouldn’t suffer like he had. Instead, he was weak. He was dirty-blooded and as a Snape, he was powerless.

But he wouldn’t be for long.

Severus Snape
Harry Potter
260

The nightmares come easier more frequently like they always do around Halloween and of course, Severus is well aware of the fact he should have at least been able to block them but when they appear they’re hidden under memories and come anyways. Each more powerful then the last.

It makes him bitter that even though he’s a master Occulemes, can control each and every emotion, whim and dream that passes through his heart or mind; he cannot stop the deluge when it comes. And it always comes, right around this time…



“The prophecy…he…he thinks it means Lily!”

“You disgust me.”

“Hide them both!”


He can handle the guilt by now it’s been his constant companion for years. He knows how it feels to remember those nightmares; he has lived and relived each and every memory from every detail imaginable. They don’t burn like they should, he doesn’t mind their presence.



He is fourteen and his legs ache from running up and down the neighborhood. He is exhausted from lack of sleep but he doesn’t want to go home. Not because of his parents, he is use to Tobias and Eileen by now. And somehow, even broken bones and arguments mean very little, right now.

He doesn’t want to go back but he does because he told her he would and he’s never broken a promise to her yet. He doesn’t plan on ever doing so.

Twenty minutes later, he crawls through the little window and slumps down in her bed.

Lily’s face is buried in her pillow and if she is surprised by his sudden appearance, or curious as to why he’s so sweaty; she doesn’t show it. She simply moves over and shows him her tear-soaked face. “Anything?”

Severus feels terrible, like his heart is going to break out of his chest at the sight of her pain. “I’ve looked everywhere I can think of Lils, I couldn’t find Salem anywhere.” She sobs and they shake him. “Don’t worry. I’ll keep looking. I swear. I won’t let you down.”


It’s the other ones that make the nightmares.


Severus Snape
Harry Potter
345

Love is the only thing that matters.

It’s looks easy enough when written down, doesn’t it? If you love someone, truly love someone it shouldn’t matter if they love you back or if you have spent your entire lives together, or just a handful of years; if you love someone- you would do anything to protect them, including die. After all, what is life without them? Nothing at all, just darkness, fear and despair.

So to keep that, to protect that loved one, or that memory of love- a man should be willing to do anything. Die, or kill. Spy, or serve. Betray.

Or that is a lie.

And all a man has is his word. His loyalty. A brand he put over his heart or on his arm. A family he chose, and a lord he worships.

And compared to that Lord, everything else is small; our own personal happiness, our own despair and wishes; because he is something so much more then ourselves, because he is an idea and we are his servants, we should devote ourselves to his cause; pay any price he asks of us.

Because we told him we would die for him, and kill. Because we told him we would offer up everything in his service- including our loved ones. Especially our loved ones. He will repay it all, after, he promised he would, didn’t he? He kept his promise. It is a small thing to do the same thing.

And those who betray an oath to a king should die a traitor’s death, unadorned and unmourned.

Make your choice, and stop wasting my time with stupid questions.


Severus Snape
Harry Potter
275

Make a list of bribes.
Or how to get Severus Snape to consider doing something for you

Ice Cream

The promise that it will annoy Minerva McGonagall

Pocket-Watches

The promise that it will annoy Albus Dumbledore

Books

The promise that it will annoy one or more Marauder

Harry Potter’s expulsion

The promise that it will annoy one more Death Eater

Punk rock or gangster rap

-mask.

Severus Snape is careful about his appearance, although you wouldn’t think it at first glance. Every stitch of clothing he owns, from the dragon hide gloves, to the frock coat and outer robe, are tailored and kept with almost fanatical dedication. He spends a fortune on Malkin robes and Crockett and Jones shoes and it shows most of the time. Those who know him since childhood- few as they are, laugh, and call it the behavior of the poor who are unwilling to accept their past. The folks at Spinner’s End call him putting on airs, and the old families of the Wizardry World call it something else.

During the school year when he’s in class or conducting…the other business he does, he forgets sometimes, to eat and the clothing that is bloodied or potion-stained remains crumpled on the floor like it costs nothing at all- and he forgets…

…what they are worth. What he looks like, he forgets about the airs or the something else because he is too tired, because his mind is too troubled.

And he’ll let his hair hang dirtily over his face, like a guilty teenager whose too tired and angry to hide the fact he’s just wearing a –


Severus Snape
Harry Potter
206