Anesthetics

I read this on a different website and wanted to share it on here. Each title is a chapter and in the beginning of each chapter is bit of lyrics that is like a summary for the chapters. All credits to the original creator if you want to read it on the original website here it is :http://www.harrypotterfanfiction.com/viewstory.php?psid=273458

If this doesnt work try this, go to http://www.harrypotterfanfiction.com, on the side it should say search HPFF click it, there should be a search box type in Anesthetics, find the one that says Banner by Sammy Lupin! once you've done that you should have it also here's what it should say:
Anesthetics by UnderRugSwept13
Rating: Mature
Chapters: 20
Characters: Lupin, Snape, Sirius, Lily, James, Regulus, Bellatrix, Narcissa, Voldemort, OC
Genre(s): Drama, Angst, Young Adult
Era: Marauders
Pairings: Snape/OC, James/Lily, Lucius/Narcissa, Snape/Lily, OC/OC

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6. Nails for Breakfast, Tacks for Snacks

That's when you stutter something profound
To the support on the line
And with the way you've been talking
Every word gets you a step closer to hell


“Are you going to the game?”

Alright, so my voice wasn’t as detached yet confident as I wanted it to be. Since when was Severus able to single-handedly annihilate my pride? It had been a couple weeks since I had last spoken to him in Transfiguration, and neither of us had made any move to extend an olive branch. I was too proud to break first and though I tried to convince myself that Severus was weaker than myself, he had yet to crack as well. And it looked like I was the one taking a chance at speaking to him again. Clearly I was the weakest link. And that bothered the hell out of me.

So there I was, standing beside his hunched form as he ate breakfast in the Great Hall, begging for him to come back. Well, maybe not begging...but certainly scribing a peace treaty of some kind. I had to be out of my mind.

He looked up at me, his greasy hair framing his face as always.
“Going to cheer on your boyfriend?” I grimaced at the acidity of his tone.

Julien wasn’t my boyfriend, but I had to admit that we had gotten closer in the past few weeks. Since he was the only one talking to me, the solo human contact was palatable. Regulus seemed to thrive in the new ‘friendship’ that I had formed with Julien. Julien now sat with us at meals and Regulus loved being with the ‘cool guy’. I remained tenaciously ignorant to the burning, hate-filled glares thrown at me from the other Slytherin girls, my roommates prominent among them. What did I care if a couple of petty school-girls didn’t like me? It had never moved me before, and I certainly wasn’t about to change now.

And Julien was the ‘cool guy’ in every sense of the term. He was attractive, witty, the star Quidditch player of Slytherin House (which made a muscle in Regulus’ jaw twitch every time someone said so, for he had been Seeker since his second year and never gotten so much glory). Julien had even tried to woo me, which was a task none had ever attempted before. And I had to admit...it was kind of working. He allowed me my opinions and snobby attitude without taking offense to it. Usually, he’d throw me an award-winning smile whenever I insulted him, and though that was polar opposite to the usual response I received...I liked it.

Even though I scowled when Severus had referred to Julien as my boyfriend, I couldn’t help the little flutter in my stomach at the idea of it. However, Severus’ attitude was toxic enough to kill it instantly.

“No,” Was my immediate, rude syllable. A rather infamous scowl now crept onto my features and it felt a little foreign. Lately, I’d been pretty happy being around Julien and basking in the glory of all the jealousy from my envious roommates. My trademark scowl hadn’t knocked on my front door in a while. But I guess Severus just brought out the best in me, “I’m going to watch Quidditch.”

Severus smirked at me this time, seeing through my poorly concocted defense. When had I ever cared about stupid sports before?
“Well, there’s a first time for everything, I suppose,” He sneered, causing me to bite the inside of my gums to keep from saying something really nasty to him. The immature silent feud we were having was ridiculous.

“Are you going?” I repeated, this time harsher, articulating my words a little bit more. Severus turned back to his breakfast, rolling his eyes as he did so. I continued to stand beside him, knowing that that was not his full response.

“What could possibly make me go to a Quidditch game?” He asked incredulously. And now that I thought about it, I realized that it was a pretty ludicrous idea. But I only needed a fraction of a second to come up with the perfect motive...

“Julien might get his face smashed in by a bludger.”

And so I was not attending the game stag.


 

~*~*~*~*~




The walk out to the Quidditch pitch was a little awkward, to say the least. Severus trudged beside me, his nose stuck in another book of several thousand pages. By experience, I guessed it was either about Potions or how to make up your own spells. However, I was a tad surprised when the cover folded up enough for my eye to catch the title:
Magic That Would Make Your Mum Turn Over In Her Grave.

I did several double-takes and even a couple of triple-takes before the information really sunk into my brain.

What are you reading?!” The shock wouldn’t even allow me to cringe at how similar my accusation sounded to Mother Porrima’s familiar shriek. A couple of passing second-years gave me a ‘is she insane?’ glance and permitted themselves a wide berth of us. I stopped and Severus soon did as well.

“Clearly you’ve already noticed the title.” Severus said silkily and I could have slapped him had I not still been in a little astonishment.

My features were frozen as my mouth remained ajar. I stared at him for a few minutes, trying to read something in his face. Anything! I had no idea what to search for there. I guess I was hoping to find some hint of mockery, a joke perhaps. I found none.

Coming up with no better alternative, since my voice would not work, I snatched the book from his relaxed grasp. He did not fight me or get defensive and his hand fell limply to his side.

I soon found that this action was not the brightest either. Somehow holding the book between my hands made it more real (as if it could have been false at all). I flipped through the pages, darting my eyes over the text as I tried to grasp what the words actually meant.

It was gruesome, to say the least. Hexes and curses that I could never dream of performing on even my most loathed enemies covered every inch of the book. Disturbing images of the effects (whether on purpose or accidental) dotted the pages every so often. The pictures made my stomach churn. These were not unlike the volumes I had come across in the Black Manor when I explored the house as a young, unsupervised child. The very same, ancient books I had thought to be picture books until I’d really looked at the pictures. And then I’d scream and run to my room, hiding from the nightmares.

Dark magic. The thought made bile rise up in my throat and I snapped the cover shut over the accursed manuscript. I held it out at arm’s length like it was diseased, my scowl feeling as though it were permanently etched into my face. I have been a pureblooded Slytherin, but I wasn’t malevolent.

I looked up at Severus to find his expression unchanged by my theatrics. He was looking neither down nor up, but not at me either. It was more as though his dark eyes were looking past me, through me. His blank face left me feeling desolate.

Beneath the anger lurked another emotion much more powerful yet unfamiliar. I found myself disappointed by Severus. Could it be true that my friend was evil? The word felt strange as though it was impossible to apply to Severus. Evil was such a comical word when used in everyday conversation. Evil applied to the villain of a child’s fairytale or a professor that gave homework on a holiday. No, I refused to think that Severus was evil...

But the book made it real. The grisly pictures and illegal hexes all made it so very tangible. Even the title of the volume disturbed me. It was mocking, dark...dangerous. A pair of ominous eyes were printed on the cover, a twisted, sinister grin beneath them. I’d always known Snape to be cynical and maybe a little malicious, but wasn’t I the same way?

Disappointment was a crippling thing, I found, as soon as I’d become acquainted with it. I knew the source of this too: I’d thought that Severus had understood why I’d been so adamantly opposed to the Dark Arts. My family was built on this pureblood mania crap and I had relatives who were Death Eaters. It all disgusted me, every bit of it. I would have thought he would have been able to comprehend the injustice of Dark Magic, if not from his own familial experience but through the disdain of my own that he had been aware of for years.

At that moment I wanted nothing to do with Slytherin, the Black family, pureblood, the Dark Arts...none of it. I finally come to the conclusion as to why I was so different from my family, my housemates...

I was good. Deep down, truly I was a good person.
And Severus was not.

My gaze stop flickering from the book to Severus’ passive face, as it had been doing so for several moments. Instantaneously, as though burned, by my own rage or the volume in my grasp, I was not sure, I launched the book at him. It hit him on the chest with a painful thud, but Severus still did not move, his eyes still distantly set behind me.

And with that, I walked away from him.
And then I became acquainted with a hot, salty moisture in the corners of my eyes.


 

~*~*~*~*~




I didn’t watch the game. I was there in body, but not in spirit. Though it was hard to say that I would have truly been there in spirit before the row with Severus. I was never really in spirit anywhere. Who’s to say that I would suddenly decide to?

So I stood amongst the sea of emerald banners and silver carnations, but paid no mind to any of it. I would have been easily spotted, I’m sure, standing stationary amid the mass of screaming, booing, or cheering adolescents as they stared, transfixed, into the sky.

How could Severus do such a thing to me? He’d only listened to me rant and rave about my mentally imbalanced family for years. How had that had no affect on him whatsoever? I was offended, to put it nicely, utterly and completely offended. Yet more deeply, I was hurt. Severus had been my closest confidant (save for the petty insults we threw at each other). Who was I supposed to talk to now?

Julien was out of the question; his family were Death Eaters and he was hardly able to comprehend anything serious. He was a friend in the sense that I couldn’t talk to him about anything important, but I had free reign to insult him. Besides, I wasn’t about to air my dirty laundry out with anyone. Vulnerability and “talking about my feelings” wasn’t my thing. I was a Black, not a pathetic little crybaby girl.

I wouldn’t say that my confessions to Severus about my stupid family had been heartfelt, tearful interventions. They had just been frustrated comments in passing, like I had been complaining to myself about how absolutely irritating my family was, but Snape had just so happened to be within earshot of it and nodded at the end of each tirade.

What was I really supposed to do though? For all intents and purposes, Severus was a my best friend. And knowing that he had deliberately broken a promise infuriated the hell out of me...

But had he really broken any promise? I had never done any kind of vow, Unbreakable or not, with Severus about not doing dark magic. I’d never put him in a headlock and forced his hand to promise not to be a Death Eater (although I definitely should have). So, in retrospect, I was kind of out of line to be upset. I mean, for God’s sake, we were Slytherins! Ninety-nine point nine percent of us were supposed to be Death Eaters or some other kind of dark being. We were born to do so!

I guess I had had more faith in Severus. I’d considered him to be above all the other stupid, pureblood-whatever Slytherins who were born into all that dark crap. I had trusted that he was smarter, cleverer than everyone else because he had certainly been putting on a good show for seven years that he had been above them...above everyone, in fact, just as I did...

Severus had never lied; he had never promised in the first place that he wasn’t going to be into all that evil crap. And yet, I still believed that he was on my side. How could I have overlooked that tiny detail? But Snape never showed any other sign of being “evil”...

I’d hit a roadblock. A full-on, cement-covered steel roadblock. And it hurt like a bitch. Betrayal hurt. But the worst part was realizing that the one and only person I had ever truly and secretly trusted had done so.

It was true; through all of my cynicism, anti-social attitude and “down with conformity” crap, I had lied and put the minuscule amount of trust I harbored into the only person I could stand to be around for more than five minutes. And he had, as my people-hating side predicted, betrayed me. That same half of me was laughing in my face right now too.

I felt another tear run down my cheek as I aimlessly gazed up at the Quidditch game taking place in the sky above me. And I looked up just at the moment that a bludger collided with the side of Julien de Pontius’ face.
 

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