The Reason

Chapter 5

And the reason is you

It was late after midnight. A lanky, dark haired man sat at the bar in a small, dark pub in a little known part of muggle London. He leant forward, long hair obscuring his face as he played with his drink. Sometimes he would cock his head to the right, as if taking in the slow jazz songs playing on the jukebox. At other times he spent a long time fingering a small silver ring that he wore on a black string. All the while he was silent, not making any attempt to converse with anyone. Each night he would arrive on time and slowly, patiently, drink himself unconscious.

The war had been over for three months.

Three months since a boy saved a foolish man. Three months since the foolish man realized the extent of his foolery.

Severus lifted his drink to his lips and took a big swallow before transferring his attention to the silver ring lying outside his shirt.

He remembered his confusion at waking up in Hogwarts, at realizing that Potter had given him a portkey to safety.

He remembered his shock a few hours later on hearing that the Dark Lord was dead. That Harry Potter had defeated him. That the Light had won. That Potter had disappeared.

All that they found was a pile of ashes, next to Voldemort\'s wide-eyed corpse.


---


While the rest of the world celebrated the end of the war and mourned the demise of the Boy Who Finally Died, Severus Snape became a cavern of silence.

He didn\'t go insane, he didn\'t cry, he just kept quiet. As if he had become a being of emptiness.

He resigned his job and disappeared into the world of muggles.

When Harry Potter\'s will was read out, many were surprised to know that he left his harsh Potions Professor something.

A diary.

It laid on his bedside table for many days, until one night, drunk and staggering around his apartment after another set of drinks, Severus crashed into the small table, and the book fell to the ground.

The next morning he woke up on the floor with the diary lying open beside him.

The words \"Why can\'t he love me?\" greeted him.

Why can\'t he love me? Why must he hate me? I\'m not my father. Why am I so stupid?

Why can\'t I make myself hate him? Then I can reciprocate his hatred. Then we can dance our waltz of hatred smoothly. Instead, I keep falling over.

An early entry:

Professor Snape gave me detention again today. I don\'t know why, but I wasn\'t mad. I mean, I acted angry in front of Ron and Mione, but I actually felt happy! What is happening to me? During detention I found myself staring at his fingers. He actually has very nice, long fingers, like those of a pianist. His fingernails are short and clean, and----- Oh my goodness... What am I writing...

A month into the war:

We are suffering badly. Today we lost Ron. I feel like another piece of my heart has been torn away; but when I look at Severus, even when he\'s glaring at me, I feel like we can win, that I will make sure we win, just so that he will be safe. So that there is still a possibility of him looking at me and smiling, smiling at me, instead of glaring.

Three days before Potter joined Voldemort:

Everything is lost. Severus is lost. I am lost. Tomorrow I will let myself be caught. I will join Him. This is the only thing I have to offer in exchange for Severus\' safety --- me. Then he can finally be free of Voldemort\'s hold. Or else, Severus will be dragged down with him. And then he can be happy... At least Albus will be there for him still, though god knows how jealous I am of him, how I wish to take his place... I know that it\'s useless, that no matter what Severus will still hate me. But at least he will still be alive.

The next entry:

His first order is that I kill Albus, dear old Albus, who\'s like my father. And Severus\' love. It pains me so much to know I\'m giving him another reason to hate me... but somewhere inside me I actually feel a tiny wisp of gladness to kill Albus just so Severus can\'t smile at him again... What does it matter anyway? Severus hates me so much already, I don\'t mind if he hates me more, as long as he lives... I don\'t mind... I don\'t...

Oh, god... help me, help me...

The last entry consisted only of

Love you love you so much. Please don\'t hate me anymore.

Severus fingered the ring again, just as he had a hundred times before. It was a small affair, a simple band. On the inside were the words:

J.P loves L.E forever

He took another swig of his drink. \"Albus...\" He whispered, \"Albus, how I wish you were here... to tell me what to do, to tell me I\'m blameless...\" He slumped forward, holding his head in his hands. His mind was still too clear. He gestured for another drink.

On the jukebox another song was playing, not a jazz one this time, but a pop song. Its plaintive strands weaved itself around his guilt, his grief.

I\'m not a perfect person

There\'re many things I wish I didn\'t do

But I continue learning

I never meant to do those things to you

And so I have to say before I go

That I just want you to know

I\'m sorry that I hurt you

It\'s something I must live with everyday

And all the pain I put you through

I wish that I could take it all away

And be the one who catches all your tears

That\'s why I need you to hear


---


He stared unseeingly at his drink.

The chorus was playing, repeating that one line again and again, driving it deep into his consciousness.

And the reason is you

His black eyes glinted in the dim light as he tossed back his head and downed his drink in one gulp. He suddenly felt like getting drunk. He shoved his glass towards the bartender for a refill.

\"Stupid... Stupid Potter...\"

Stupid me...

After eight straight glasses, he was feeling decidedly light and happy. Like he was floating.

Smiling lopsidedly at the bartender, he pushed himself upright and turned.

\"Hey, man, you haven\'t paid for your drinks.\"

Severus ignored him happily. He took one step towards the entrance, then toppled over. Just before he touched the cold, dirty floor, a lone figure rose from a corner where he had been sitting the whole evening and managed to pull the very drunk man so that he toppled into his arms. He put some bills on the counter and gave the bartender an apologetic smile, emerald eyes quickly going back to Severus.

As he lifted the almost unconscious man, he sighed, almost inaudibly. Severus was getting lighter by the week. He carried the prone figure to his car and arranged him gently, almost lovingly on the backseat, before getting into the front.

It was a routine: every night after Severus fell over drunk he would send him home, handing him over to his landlady with the daily warning not to tell the unconscious man.

Tonight was the same; he touched Severus\' wan face tenderly before helping the kindly landlady bring him to his room.

\"Thanks, Mrs Peters. Would you help me make sure he eats more? He\'s getting thinner. Thanks.\"

Flashing a quick smile and pushing a wad of notes towards the woman, he said goodbye and left, driving through the dark, empty streets.

When he finally reached home, the first thing he did was to sit down and write in his diary.

He looks thinner today. But I saw him smile today, though it wasn\'t at me. I still don\'t dare... I know he will never accept me. But at least I can see him everyday. How I long to comfort him, to fill the hole that Albus once filled in his heart... Tomorrow I will try to approach him again. Mayhap I will finally be brave enough. Tomorrow I will offer to buy him a drink, and he will look at me with shock, anger and then gladness... Tomorrow...

Tomorrow... maybe I will finally dare.... Maybe he will finally accept me...



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