The Pains of Becoming

sorry updating took so long.

no worries I am still writing this story, in fact I have a number of new chapters piled up and am working on one of the final chapters now, but I have serious beta problems.



This chapter was mostly betad by Lily Evins (thanks for your work, Lily!)

But since then the next chapter has gone through 4 different betas who seem to hate it so much that they simply turn quiet on me without any explanation which causes me to wait for weeks before trying to find someone new. Now I have no idea who else to ask but I will not publish unbetad chapters. So I’ll have to wait with updating till I find someone. Sorry.

Hopefully I can update again soon!

Anyone feeling like becoming my beta, let me know!

Hope you enjoy this chapter!



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Chapter 29

A Hint of Similarity



Kirsty sat at breakfast, staring at her empty plate. There was no way she could eat something now. What she had seen in that basin was still so vivid in her memory. While everyone around her was talking animatedly she dared looking up to the staff table. There was Snape busy in a seemingly casual conversation with Professor Sprout. Kristy felt irritated. She tried to imagine him doing the things he had done in the basin. She couldn’t somehow. It wasn’t him. She did not even know what she had seen there. Had it really happened many years ago? –Of course it had happened. Why was she so shocked, she knew Lucius had not lied whenever he tired to bate Snape. Snape was a Deatheather, he had done all these things together with Lucius. Kirsty had known it was so, she just had not imagined him being so passionate about it. She turned back to her plate. The thought of food repulsed her even more when she thought about getting up and meeting Snape again in his office. Not only was she confused about what she had seen and was desperate to ask him about the basin in his bedroom, -which she knew she could not, since she surely was not meant to have entered his bedroom, but her very own memory from last night made her stomach turn, Snape would not have forgotten either. She blushed furiously only thinking about how she had behaved. And having seen what she had seen this morning she was truly surprised that Snape had not used her last night when she was drunk and came onto him the way she did. He really must have turned into another person, or he really found her repulsive. Maybe he really only liked red heads? But that was stupid, no, he really must find her very unattractive, she thought and felt sick at the thought of having embarrassed herself the way she did. She only did not understand how Lucius could have found her ok enough to touch her, when Snape did not.

She looked up to the teachers again and saw that Snape had left. She sighed. It was time.



Moments later Kirsty knocked on the office door and entered. Snape stood by the desk where she usually sat when she was revising.



“Close the door, “he said. She did so and looked at him.



“I will not hold against you your behaviour under the influence of alcohol,” he said factually, she had to look away from his eyes, “however I am wondering what you were thinking when you decided to walk about the castle almost finishing a bottle of fire whisky by yourself, I believe, which you got from a certain Mr Luke Livingston?”



Kirsty nodded vaguely and said in a whisper: “I was… I wanted something to make me feel better, Sir.”



“Did it make you feel better?” he asked.



Kirsty looked up: “For a moment, yes, it did.”



“Why?”



“Because I forgot who I am.”



Snape’s eyes narrowed. She almost felt as though there was a sudden connection, a moment of pure understanding between them. Then Snape seemed to compose himself again and said:



“You should never forget who you are.”



“Why? If there is nothing good about it?” she asked desperately.



“Come over here,” he said.



Kirsty hesitated: “No, tell me why? Do you remember who you are? Do you?” She wished she had not asked him that. For a moment she feared he might see the reason behind her question and realise what she had seen while in his chambers alone. But Snape only looked at her silently and placed the hourglass demonstratively on the desk beside him. Kirsty watched the sand run, a hint of panic coming over her. She knew what it meant and she did not want any more of what was going to come than necessary. The sand ran so fast, but she did not want to give up. She felt she was on the right way to understand a few things about Snape. But that sand seemed to run even faster. She stomped her foot on the floor in defeat and hurried over to him. Without a word she bend over the desk and pulled up her skirt.



“Well, bring it on then,” she said defiantly.

The next moment she held his warm hand pressing down on the small of her lower back and she knew it would mean the strap.



“Brace yourself,” he said and the first brow hit her.



She gasped in shock. She had quite forgotten just how powerful those blows were.

She tried to compose herself for the next one but it surprised her almost just as much.

With the forth her skin was burning violently. He paused and pulled her panties back in place then continued. Kirsty could not hold back her tears. But she was angry, she did not want to cry. After a few more agonising blows he finally stopped and said softly:



“Straighten up.” She stood and turned to him, without looking at him.



“Remember this next time you feel like strutting around the castle, drunk out of your head,” he paused, “now are you ready to revise or do you need a moment?”



She tried to compose herself so her voice would not sound too pathetic: “I need to go to the bathroom.” It was a lie but she just needed to get away from him. He stepped aside and she run out of the room, tears spilling forth again. She run up the dungeon, trying not to show her face to anyone who passed her. Though it was obvious to everyone who did, that she was in tears. Yet no one would have wanted to get mixed up with her.



She ran all the way up to the ground level and into the court. It was deserted since the weather was not very good and it was cold and grey. She sat down in between the arches hidden slightly by a bush growing over it. She pulled her legs to her chest and hid her face. She did not care that her backside was still in pain, especially since she sat on hard stone. She didn’t mind, she did feel it as a comfort to all the confusion inside her. Somehow nothing seemed to make sense anymore. She tried to understand why it upset her so much the way Snape was treating her, he had never been very nice and she was used to being treated worse from Lucius and yet, she could not bear it when he beat her like this and then looked at her with those cold eyes, as though he wanted to make her feel guilty for making him do it. And having seen the darkness hidden within him, she could not understand why he was so cold towards her? Why did he not understand her struggles? He often had said he understood better than she could imagine, but he had never shown her. It all came down to him hating being around her. How could he hate her so much, if he understood her? What about her was so repulsive, she just did not understand. And she didn’t understand herself either. She knew she had been drinking to provoke something. She had known she would get into trouble. She had wanted him to be angry with her and to deal with her, but then she also knew it would not be to her satisfaction. He just did not play Lucius’ games. But why didn’t he, when he had obviously liked them in the past? She had begged him to fuck her last night and he had only looked at her in disgust, like she was some rotten...



“Lemon Drop?” asked an oddly amused voice.



She wanted to tell that annoying someone to go away but she recognised that voice quickly enough. She looked up. Dumbledore held a sweetie in her face.



She had a sarcastic comment on her tongue but kept it inside.



“No thank you,” she said and turned her face away again.



Dumbledore put the lemon drop back in his robes pocket and sat down next to her. Was he planning to chat with her? Could he not see she wanted to be alone?



“I should be with Professor Snape now,” she muffled into her sleeve to indicate she did not have time to chat.



“I see,” he said and paused, “but you’re not.”



“Having a break,” she said without looking at him.



“I see, “he repeated.



“What do you see?” she asked bitterly, she could not help herself.



“I see that it is hard for you, “ he said now more seriously, “but I told you before I would not give up on you easily.”



“Well thanks,” she snapped, more angry than she had intended.



“I think you are coping fairly well,” he said after a moment of silence.



“I don’t think so,” she scoffed bitterly, “And neither does Professor Snape, for your information.”



“Ah yes,” he was silent for a while then said, “he seems rather tense these days.”



Kirsty frowned, still turned away from Dumbledore: “Everyone would be tense, being stuck with someone they can’t stand.”



“How very considered of you,” Dumbledore said and only secretly looked at her.



“And what do I get in return? The cane or the strap.”



Dumbledore was silent again and then said: “I suppose not many people would appreciate that. But then again, maybe he doesn’t appreciate your…pitying him.“



“I don’t pity him!” she snapped.



“I believe you do, Kirsty. And it is a great quality to be so aware of the feelings of others. You have a gift of being able to be very caring, unfortunately it is easily abused.”



She shook her head: “I wasn’t abused! I gave myself to Lucius freely! And I do not care about Professor Snape, I am just making observations, I do notice when I am unwanted! And is that a reason to get back at me with beating me?” She looked up at Dumbledore, she wanted to see his eyes when he would explain why he thought she deserved to be beaten. But Dumbledore looked away from her:



“Our assets can often also be the cause of our flaws. You have very nice assets, but they lead you to making mistakes, which you need to take responsibility for. Also Professor Snape has exceptional assets, unfortunately they let him to making mistakes too in the past. He has learned from them. But still he is bound to making mistakes just as easily as you. You are very much alike.”



“What?!” Kirsty was entirely confused.



“Well, in certain ways of course, in others you are complete opposites,” he corrected loftily. She stopped listening. He was obviously talking nonsense. They were quiet for a moment.



Then he started again: “You might find it very hard to believe but he has the tendency to be very giving, if he wants to be.”



“Yeah!” Kirsty laughed out.



Dumbledore continued as though he had not heard her: “What you need to understand is that, unfortunately, his giving nature has not served him very well in the past. His experience has taught him to rely on… other qualities. I will tell you this, Kirsty, I do worry about him sometimes.” He looked at her, searching her eyes, but Kirsty denied him by looking away.



She could not hide that he had managed to intrigue her. She thought back to what she had seen in the basin.



“I saw something…. in Professor Snape’s chambers. Some sort of a basin with… a shimmering substance. I didn’t plan to… well, somehow it did something to me, when I looked inside.”



“The pensive, “ Dumbledore said wearily.

“I saw him when he was a Deatheater. He raped a girl and he was torturing her with all sorts of nasty spells.”



“I gave him that pensive,” Dumbledore explained with a sad voice, “many years ago, when he came back to us, he was very troubled by his memories, nothing helped. He became very distressed and I gave him the pensive and allowed him to store certain memories in it over night so he would be able to sleep. I was not comfortable doing it and demanded him to put those memories back where they belonged during the daytime.”



“He was so different when I saw him there, like another person… what made him change so much?” Kirsty hardly had noticed she had stopped being defensive and hurt, she was intrigued to find out more.



“The only thing that has the power to change people so dramatically can only be love, in bad ways and in good ways.”



“Professor Snape was in love?” She asked quite surprised.



”Of course he was. A man with such passion, how can he live without falling in love? Just like you, he has the tendency to love very passionately and love like that influences and changes people.”



“What happened?”



“She didn’t love him back and then she died and I’m afraid he feels rather responsible for her death. She was muggle born, you see, and killed by his Master, Lord Voldemort.”



Kirsty cringed at the name and looked ahead for a moment thinking and then she could not stop the words that simply slipped out of her mouth: “That’s very bad. I feel sorry for him. ”



“So do I. But perhaps you can imagine how powerfully feelings like that can change you one way or another,” said Dumbledore, “as I believe you made somewhat similar experiences.”



Kirsty looked away silently.



“Like I said, you both are very much alike and in other ways you are opposites, which, as a matter of fact, makes you compliment each other beautifully, but as it happens experience has taught both of you that it is saver to be defensive,” he shrugged, “I wish you would recognise and understand this in each other. It would make things a lot easier for both of you.”



Kirsty stared ahead, not sure she could make sense of what he was saying.





Dumbledore left her shortly later with a pat on the shoulder. Suddenly all these remarks came back to her. Lucius teasing Snape about his obsession for women with red hair, Snape telling her repeatedly that he understood her more than she knew. It was like a new world was opening up to her. Snape had been in love. And not only had he been rejected, he felt responsible for the girl’s death. She felt terribly sorry for him. She hurried back to his office and carefully walked in, trying to not make too much noise. Snape did not look up from his desk when she entered. She hurried over to her seat quietly and pretended to start reading a chapter on potions used in crime investigations and taking down notes, while she really was spying over her page at him, watching him as he was deeply absorbed by the book in front of him. She had never seen him as a person who had possibly been very disappointed or hurt or feeling guilty for his past. She realised she had never seen him as a human being, only as a teacher. Could this red haired girl he loved be the reason why he was always so distant? Was this dead girl and his moaning over her the reason that caused him to hurt the girl in his memory? Or was the girl she had seen THAT girl? She doubted it, he would not have done that to her if he loved her. But had Lucius not said the Dark Lord thought she was of his taste?

It seemed that everyone knew about his great denied love. How humiliating that must have been, she thought. Recalling what she had seen in the pensive and how Snape had not believed the girl when she said she did not have a boyfriend she figured easily that he was very hurt by having been rejected. His words came back to her, how he had told her to her face: “We can not always get what we want, no matter how much we want it and how bad it hurts. I had to learn that and I don’t see why you should be spared that experience.“ Back then it had only been words to her. It was so strange to see him that way now, her Head of House, that person who she had believed had so much power and control. Now it seemed a girl had scared him for life, possibly made him the way he was. She could not explain it, but she felt anger towards that girl, until she tried to remember that she had been murdered by You-know-who, and that this was possibly worse for Snape, than her rejection of him. Maybe, she took a wild guess, if she had not been killed, Snape would now still be that man she had seen in the pensive. He had been truly scary. Lucius seemed humane compared to him. Snape had been a monster. She could still not believe it had been him.