Title: Wild, Wild Things|
By: Juxian Tang
Summary: Challenge # 9: Snape gets kicked out of Hogwarts. People say it's
because he's raped a student. Harry doesn't believe it. (Kira)
Challenge: 1,000 Word Story
Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter or anything else in that universe. All
rights reserved to JKR and company.
Note: Part of "From Dusk til Dawn - the Harry Potter/Severus Snape
Fuh-Q-Fest" at: http://www.kardasi.com/HPSS
Well, have you seen the movie 'Wild Things', with Denise Richards and Neve
Campbell? It is about a rich girl accusing her teacher of raping her. So, here
is a Hogwarts remake of it :-)
WILD, WILD THINGS
"I'm truly grateful to you, Potter. Your youthful tenacity was
The liquid in the glass is dark amber, and so are his eyes, slightly
narrowed, looking at me. Why did I ever think his eyes were black? They are
this warm, deep golden colour of expensive cognac.
"Although I'm surprised you cared for me so much," he says. Blood
rushes to my cheeks. He puts the glass on the table and leans back against the
white velvet of the armchair. "For your greasy Potions master."
His hair is shiny-clean, tangled slightly in a manner that seems casual but
is acquired only at a classy hairdresser's. His robes are impeccably tailored,
and if they're black, I bet it's only because he knows black becomes him.
I remember him as he was, wide-eyed and pale, clenching his hands yet unable
to prevent them from shaking - one evening in our seventh year, when Draco
Malfoy had run into the Great Hall, stumbling, his robe torn, his face streaked
with tears - and accused Snape of raping him during a private Potions lesson.
It caused a riot. Every single thing one hated him for was recounted. And he
stood in the middle of the cursing, spitting crowd - paper-white, his
dark-circled eyes blinking owlishly, and repeated only:
"It is not true. I didn't touch him."
I thought Dumbledore believed him. *I* believed him. Despite countless
detentions I served thanks to him, despite all the points Gryffindor lost - at
that moment I couldn't hate him. Because of his helplessness, because of his
isolation as, one by one, other teachers stepped away from him.
I knew what it was, to be alone against everyone.
Dumbledore said he'd find a temporary substitute, till everything cleared
up. Lucius Malfoy, enraged, demanded Snape to be sent to Azkaban. Draco was
giving interviews, to 'Daily Prophet', other papers - about being a victim of a
Snape, alone, in his quarters, received piles of Howlers, didn't have time
to open them all, and they exploded, littering the floor with burnt paper.
The hell broke loose when Neville Longbottom confessed that Snape had
coerced him into sexual encounters in exchange for passable grades in Potions.
And he was not some slimy Slytherin. He was a Gryffindor - and Gryffindors
Dumbledore signed the papers sacking Snape. The same day Aurors came and
took him to Azkaban.
Then I knew I had to do something.
Ron thought I was crazy, worrying about the greasy git. Hermione thought I
was wasting my time, since Neville's confession made things absolutely clear. I
broke into Snape's rooms and stole a vial of Veritaserum. Hedwig took it to
Snape's Ministry-appointed lawyer - no one else wanted to defend him and he
didn't have money to pay for someone's services. I also attached a check for my
Gringotts account, just to make sure Malfoy wouldn't outbid the man.
I suppose Lucius didn't bother; he was sure in the outcome.
The lawyer was ambitious. He couldn't get a permission to use Veritaserum on
Draco. But he used it on Neville. It turned out even more incredible than one
could imagine. Neville confessed that Draco talked him into accusing Snape, to
support his own accusations - and Neville agreed because Snape always tormented
There had never been any abuse.
Called to the witness box, Draco broke down and, hysterical, admitted that
he wanted to revenge himself upon Snape, because he turned down Draco's advances.
Lucius Malfoy was livid. Narcissa's lips seemed a thread-thin line.
Snape was acquitted completely. It wasn't mentioned how much Lucius paid him
for not bringing charges against Draco - but 'Quibbler' said it amounted to
several hundred thousand Galleons - if you can believe this source.
Snape's lawyer returned my check, saying the publicity was enough to make
Draco finished the year taking private lessons and passed N.E.W.T.s as an
external student. Everybody actually felt sorry for Neville - there were
rumours Draco used 'Imperius' on him but of course it was never proved.
Snape didn't come back to Hogwarts. I understood him. I also wouldn't have
returned to the place where I was betrayed and rejected so coldly and unfairly.
Or so I thought.
Till today, when I accidentally saw three of them in a private room of the
most luxurious restaurant in Wizard London...
Snape sits in a deep armchair, narrow and black in his expensive clothes,
and his thin fingers caress the cheek of Neville Longbottom who rests his head
on Snape's shoulder. Behind him, reed-thin and pointed-faced, stands Draco,
holding his arms around him, his blond hair mixing with Snape's black one.
I sit in front of them, not touching my glass.
"So it was all a set-up," I mutter. "For money."
"Do you have any idea how little a teacher at Hogwarts makes?" he
asks. "I was so tired of wearing grey underwear."
"And my father hardly noticed he'd lost something," Draco adds.
"Please, Harry." Neville butts his head against Snape's palm.
"Don't be angry."
"Remember where you took it from?" Snape asks. Did I notice before
how soft his voice was? Like silk. Perhaps I did. "Your habit of breaking
into my supplies bore some fruit."
I should hate him. I can't look at him. Helpless anger rises in me - mixed
with another feeling.
"I'm glad you found out the truth," Snape says. A little shudder
runs through my body, at the sound of his voice. "You deserved to know.
After helping us like this."
I wince. I don't want to hear it. Don't want to meet Draco's silvery eyes.
Don't want to see Neville's boyish, oh-so-innocent smile.
I don't want to see the long fingers, no more potions-stained, play with
Neville's hair... like they could be playing with mine.
"The real question is," Snape says, and I look up, and his eyes
are like molten lava, and his voice is honey, trapping me, "whether you'll
join us... Harry."