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One of Us by Yukimor [Reviews - 6]


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My first fanficton ever. A songfic. The song is called “One Of Us” from The Lion King II. I thought it fit Severus rather appropriately: He’s never been well trusted, not even by the Order, and after killing Dumbledore, he was forced to flee with the other Death Eaters. I was rereading HBP and listening to One of Us on my ipod (in Japanese) on repeat for about half an hour before I got the inspiration to suddenly write this. Through writing this, I’ve learned just how hard it is- I never realized how much courage it takes to write a HG/SS fic until now. I now have even greater respect for all of the other authors on Ashwinder, and hope to crawl out of my cowardly shell and write more.

And, as always, I do not own this. I'm just here to play with JKR's toys. I promise to put them back in relatively the same condition I found them. Of course, they may be missing a couple limbs, but I think George was already missing an ear...

* * *

"Avada Kedavra!"

Deception. Disgrace.

It was a slow moment, one that would forever be etched into the minds of the witnesses. The light leaving Dumbledore's eyes, the slow sliding down the rail, and then the subsequent fall down the side of the Astronomy tower.

Evil is as plain as the scar on his face.

Snape turned and ran, grabbing Draco, furiously urging him to move. Move, for Merlin's sake, unless he wanted to continue standing there gaping in shock- an open target for any nearby Order members. The other Death Eaters followed suit, preparing to the flee the grounds now that the Dark Lord's mission had been carried out. Dumbledore was dead.

Deception, disgrace.

As Snape rushed ahead, ducking and dodging the wayward curses heading his way in the midst of the confusion, the chaos, the disembodied sobs that could be heard throughout the night, his mind wandered back to all the events that had led up to this moment.

He asked for trouble the moment he came.

That moment on the Hogwarts Express when he had first met James Potter and Sirius Black. He had taken a seat elsewhere with Lily. But that had been the start of a long-standing enmity that would exist between Severus Snape and the Black-Potter dynasty.

Deception, disgrace.

The misery and distrust he had been stonewalled with the moment he had entered Hogwarts, and the subsequent lies and deceit he had learned to deal with as he became a reclusive Slytherin to the core. Always picked on by the Golden Gryffindors of his time, humilliated, and forced into a corner that he later couldn’t wriggle himself out of.

He asked for trouble the moment he came.

And before then, had been the misery in his own home. The abusive Muggle father, who hated rather than appreciated the wonder that magic could bring. The weak mother, who cowered aside while Severus stood the full brunt of his father's unjustifiable rage. She never raised her wand to help her son, and her protests, if there were any, were feeble and half-hearted. And usually ignored.

Born in grief,
Raised in hate.


He had always known this was coming, hadn't he? After his acceptance into the circle of the Dark Lord's followers, his betrayal of the Potters, and his eventual acceptance as his role of a spy, his brilliant, strategic mind should have forseen this moment. The sad thing was, though, that he had worked so hard to earn his place among the Dark Lord’s favorites, worming his way into his good graces through his usefulness as an expert brewer in potions and his cunning intellect. The Dark Lord had always valued intelligence and strategic minds among his followers- they were always the most useful. But he had not realized that earning his place among the Death Eaters was synonymous with digging his grave and the grave of those who he had held dear to him. Despite Lily’s rejection of their friendship, he still cared deeply for her, if only on a purely platonic level.

Helpless to defy his fate.

A hex he was very familar with shot past his face, missing his ear by a margin of three inches. Had it been just a bit closer, it would have sliced his ear off. Ordering Draco to keep running, he turned around to face his attacker. Harry Potter. A combination of the best and worst thing that had ever existed in his life. The very image of James Potter, except for his eyes. Lily's eyes. Eyes Snape had been forced to see every day for the past six years. A reminder of what he had done, and what he still owed.

Let him run,
let him live,
but do not forget what we cannot forgive.


He dealt with Potter, sending him flying backwards, disarming him. He taunted him, even as it both made him inwardly gleeful and yet painful to do so, as he was torn between the feeling of tormenting James Potter, but also horribly reminded of the day he had called Lily the unforgivable word: Mudblood.

His adversary taken care of, he turned around and fled into the darkness of the Forbidden Forest, his thoughts staying more than once into the memories of a certain brown-eyed bushy-haired girl who had wormed her way into his heart that year. She had known this would happen, too. She had promised to take care of Harry as they prepared to search for Horcruxes, to keep his secret, and most importantly, to keep herself safe. She had been his one defender in the face of constant accusations and suggestions that his loyalties were not perhaps on the side of the Light, as Dumbledore had believed. He hoped she did not see this as betrayal. He had told her this would happen before their relationship had gone any further than the living room, tea, and discussions on the latest article in Transfiguration Today.

And he is not one of us
He has never been one of us
He is not part of us
Not our kind.


A life of being shunned, he had finally found some happiness in the midst of all that misery. Hermione meant the world to him; she was his confidant, his lover, the person he could open himself to at his most vulnerable and expect her to soothe him rather than cut his heart out cruelly. She was intelligent, lively, and despite her swottiness, moderately well-liked by the other Gryffindors.

Someone once lied to us
Now we're not so blind
For we knew he would do what he's done
And we know that he'll never be one of us.


Dear god, he hoped she remembered his words to her at their very last meeting- hoped that she understood that this had truly been the Headmaster's wishes, his last request. He prayed she kept faith in him, for if she turned her back on him the next time he approached her, he would surely shatter. He had told her what his father was like- petty promises of love and comfort, all of which were lies enforced by the beatings that went along with them. And he had promised her that he would never lie to her, but that his actions might contradict his words. And she had promised to believe in him.

He is not one of us.

No, no one except for Hermione had ever believed in him, or probably ever would.

And now, as he kneeled before the Dark Lord to report the success of the mission, already making plans on how to contact her- he would give her vital information that they would need, information that would help them succeed and help them say alive- he could only hope he got through this alive. She would guide Potter and the Weasel on their quest to destroy Voldemort’s Horcruxes.

Deception, disgrace.

He hoped to have her returned to his arms, alive and well, at the end of the year. He already missed her. There would be no laying in bed cuddling tonight. But if all went well, they would be a year from now.

And even now, as the Dark Lord praised him for completing the mission when Draco had hesitated, he was already imagining what the world would be like, a year from today, without the darkness, deception, and disgrace he had descended into.

Deception.

A year from now, Tom Riddle would be rotting in Hell.



One of Us by Yukimor [Reviews - 6]


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