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JACG Chapter 73 (Guilt)
🕑 Added 2024-04-14 02:05:32 +0000 UTCI have been putting this off for a good long while. I had taken care of my Father, I killed him without a second thought. I postponed talking with my Mother because it felt so much more difficult to accept. There was not going to be an easy solution with her. Hell, the solution that I came up with for my Father was not really perfect either. With my mother it would be worse.
I would be experiencing conflicting emotions over and over again with her. Love, Hate, Sadness, Regret, Hope, Despair, Compassion, Guilt, the list went on and on. I could not face her without preparing myself mentally. I could not afford to lose myself in those conflicting emotions. If I managed to push myself over the edge then I would be losing something precious. Even if I never felt like she was all that precious before.
I needed the time I provided myself to settle before facing her again. I needed those comforting moments spent in the arms of Ashley. I needed to distract myself with the growth that I desperately sought. I needed to make amends to those I had hurt. I needed all of those things before I even felt comfortable taking this task up.
Even with all of that, I was not sure if I was completely ready to face her just yet. I had several calming draughts prepared just in case I felt myself slipping. I felt like I was strong enough to face those currents without the need of those potions but it was better to have them. I would not want to need them and not have them in this case.
I took a deep breath as I faced this familiar shoddy house. The last time I was on this street I made a rather deliberate choice to avoid looking at this house. Now I was preparing to enter my crime scene once more.
I expected everything to be exactly as I left it. That expectation was not proven right, there were many changes that I took notice of. Instead of the windows being in total disrepair they looked like they were fixed up. The peeling paint no longer falling off of my house. Small little changes that told me my Mother took the time to repair this place. I did not know if she used her magic but I could only hope that she did.
For the longest time, Magic was a taboo in this house. It would bring me relief if she was no longer bound by that taboo. That she would no longer hide that part of herself from the rest of the world. That she could experience the magical whimsical world that she was a part of. Beyond all of that, I hoped that she would not fear something that was a part of her.
If she was using magic again she was not using too much of it. She could have put up some wards in the time I have avoided this place. Then again I might be expecting too much from her. I did not know if she was capable of doing that. Not everyone could copy magic with a single glance. She would need to put time and effort into learning a craft like Warding. As far as I was aware she took no interest in that field. With her knowledge of potions, she would not have enough time to dedicate to another craft.
She could have paid someone to put up wards but that was even less likely. Even if she decided to start using magic again we were still poor as far as she was concerned.
Another pang of guilt rang through my chest. I had access to an immense amount of wealth and I left my Mother here to fend for herself. Living in the same shoddy house that I left her in for ages.
I felt more urgency to see her. I walked towards the door that I opened that dreary night. The lock was no longer broken and in disrepair. Which I took as another good sign. She was not broken by his death. That took the sting away from the guilt that was still ringing in my heart.
I could simply open the door with a simple spell. It would only take a moment and I could enter my home and search for my mother. As I raised my hand to do so I hesitated. Was that the right move? To barge into her life without a care for her own feelings. To suddenly surprise her with my presence. To take away the little sense of security she was able to gather.
I was sure she would forgive me for my actions but they would still hurt her. So instead of waltzing into the place like it was my home I knocked on the door.
The small rhythmic pattern I knocked on the door sounded so much louder to me. Or maybe that was my pounding heart? My heart was beating to a song that screamed panic. I tried not to show the nervousness that was filling inside of me as I waited for a response.
As the seconds passed by I felt more and more nervous. Questions plaguing my mind over my actions. Over what I did for so long and what I have allowed to pass. To the sins that dyed me in these dull colors. It was only a moment but I felt more and more unstable.
Then the door opened.
Eileen Snape was never going to win beauty pageants. Not when she was younger and not now. She was far too thin for anyone’s comfort. Her skin was the same sickly shade that plagued me for so long. Her face usually set in a sullen expression that dyed her already bleak features into something depressing. She was all of those things but beyond that, she was my mother.
She looked better. She was obviously not in a good condition but she did look better. She was no longer hunched over as if hiding in herself. The sickly color of her skin was not as pale. The sullen tired look on her face no longer swallowed everything else she was displaying.
Seeing her in a better state did wonders for my own spiraling emotions. I no longer felt like my heart would beat out of my own chest. I also put the questions haunting my mind to rest for now.
“Can I help you?” My mother questioned warily as she took me in. She clutched onto the door frame as if it would provide her some semblance of protection. Her other hand behind her back, I could only hope that it was holding her wand. If only to offer her some level of comfort.
I winced as I did not think how this would look. An imposing male figure appearing on her door step was not something my Mother would like.
The sullen look on her face faded as she got a good long look at me. Her eyes examined every aspect of me. A hint of confusion dyed her features as she looked at me longer.
“Severus?” She questioned out in confusion. The confusion was still clear on her face but there was a hint of warmth in her eyes.
I let out a sheepish smile as if confirming her guess. I may have changed a massive amount but I was glad that my mother could recognize me given enough time. If a shopkeeper could recognize me I hoped that my mother could achieve the same feat.
“Yeah, it’s me.” I let out awkwardly. I may be happy to see her but I never really knew how to talk to her. Always keeping my mouth shut in fear of tripping over a landmine that would hurt her. Or bring about more pain in her life.
Her eyes widened as if disbelieving what they were telling her. The small warmth in them increased with every second she spent looking at me.
“What are you doing here?” She questioned in further confusion. Which faded as she took in her own question. There were plenty of questions in her question. She expected me to be at Hogwarts and even if I was not I was unlikely to come back here.
“Not that I’m not happy to see you. I just thought you would still be at Hogwarts.” She let out quickly as if not wanting to hurt me. Another pang of sorrow rang through my chest as I listened quietly. She meant those words. I have blamed her for my suffering for a good long time but she was still happy to see me.
I have been actively avoiding coming back to this home for the longest time. I would spend my time in Lucius’ mansion running from the mess that was my own home life. If I was not by Lucius’ side then I was at Lily’s house trying to get her to show me some level of affection. Anything and everything to avoid the sorrow that my powerlessness brought me.
“There was an emergency at the Castle so they ended the term a bit early,” I spoke out quietly with a small guilty look on my face. My guilt did not come from the lie but from the thoughts running through my head.
She wore a small confused look on her face but it faded quickly.
“What happened?” She asked in worry. Before I could answer her eyes widened as she opened the door wider.
“Oh, what am I doing? Come in.” She spoke out quietly as she guided me into our home. I am sure there was a thousand questions running in her head but she was not going to keep me waiting outside.
We walked past the small sitting area where I murdered my Father without any hesitance. She led me straight to the small kitchen we had. There were not a lot of things in this room but there was a small seating area with a table for eating. My mother was shuffling me towards one of the chairs.
“Sit, sit. You must be tired from the journey.” She spoke out warmly as she all but put me in a chair. Once I was seated she started to walk towards the kitchen and put a kettle on our stove to boil. I could only assume she was going to offer me some tea as she hummed lightly to herself.
There was life about her that I was not used to seeing. Again that sight brought my mood up. It then fell as she was still in a poor condition and I could have taken care of that. My emotions were going to go up and down today.
She could have used magic to boil the water but she was far more used to using that kettle. A small habit that was built on the back of years of abuse. It brought my mood even further down.
Before I could wallow in that feeling the kettle boiled and she brought over two mugs filled with tea. I recognized those cups as they used to be slightly chipped. Now they looked almost brand new.
She placed one of the mugs in front of me and kept the other for herself as she sat down in front of me. Her eyes shone as she got another look at me.
“Hogwarts did a lot of good for you this year.” She let out awkwardly but warmly as her eyes took in all the changes. I smiled back at her as if trying to reassure her.
She cared about me but she was not used to talking to me either. This small interaction was probably the best conversation between us for a good long while.
“It’s actually not Hogwarts. I developed some potions that did all of this.” I let out excitedly with a bright smile on my face. I wanted her to know that I was skilled enough to take us away from a place like this. I was also rather proud of my accomplishments even if Fortuna was a major part of them. I made her all by myself so anything she helped me to was a part of my own accomplishments by proxy.
Her eyes widened as she took in my excited proclamation.
“That’s amazing Severus.” She let out excitedly even if there was a hint of sadness in her eyes. That small hint brought down my mood again. I was not sure what it was for but I wanted it gone.
So I decided to do something to improve her mood. I brought out a nutrition potion that should help her massively. I was not sure how she would take it if I showed her all the potions I could give her. A single amazing potion was amazing, two were great, and three were slightly suspicious given the time frame. I had far more than three potions to offer.
She looked at the potion that was glowing brightly on the table.
“This is an improved version of the Nutrition potion. It will help a lot with your health.” I spoke out quietly. Her eyes widened once more as I took the potion and handed it to her.
She held the potion in her hand looking between it and me for a good long while. I thought that something like this would have taken the sad look out of her eyes but it seemed to intensify.
“This is great.” She let out quietly as she held the potion. I gave her a flat look as I could not understand her current mood. Seeing my flat look she looked at me with a small amount of confusion before she looked back at the potion in realization.
She then opened it and drank the potion quickly. The urgency in which she did that bothered me. As the potions fully settled in her the pale sickly complexion faded replaced with soft milky skin. All the years of physical neglect faded from her body in an instant. Still, the years of mental abuse still had her looking older than she should.
That was more of a mindset and I was not prepared to help in that particular case. I was a basket case and I was in no way qualified to help others with their mental burdens.
She looked at her own hand examining the changes that my potion brought in fascination. She then took another look at me as if comparing the changes with a small smile on her face. Still, even with all of those changes, there was still that small sad look in her eyes.
It was bugging me. She should have no reason to be sad. If this was about my father then it would have been prevalent from the moment I saw her. Yet, it only showed up when I brought up my potions.
“Why do you look sad?” I asked quietly with hesitation dyeing every last bit of my words. I did not want to beat around the bush, that would only leave my mood simmering. I wanted an answer to all of my doubts but I was not sure if she wanted to tell me.
She seemed to be startled by my question. I suppose she never expected me to be able to read that sadness from her. She should not be that surprised, she was not exactly the best at holding back her emotions.
She bit her lip as she decided how to answer. She clearly knew why she was feeling upset but she was hesitating on how to phrase it.
“It’s silly.” She let out quietly. Her eyes were unfocused and uncertain. I took in her words and scoffed internally. It did not matter if she thought her reasoning was silly I wanted to know what was going on.
“It doesn't matter if it’s silly. What matters is how you are feeling.” I spoke out quietly with guilt filling me once more. She should be comfortable sharing whatever weighed on her mind. Yet, she was holding herself back because she was feeling like a fool over her own feelings.
“You did all this and I did not even know you were working on this.” She mumbled out quietly. It was so quiet that I could only pick it up because of my enhanced hearing. I flinched away from the statement even if she was not blaming me with her words.
No, she was blaming herself but those words still cut into me. She was blaming her self for not noticing the effort I was putting into changing our lives. I was blaming myself for never bringing up any of my efforts to her. We both fumbled with guilt and shame over things that were not really our faults.
This particular potion may have been completed with the help of Fortuna but that did not take away my guilt. I had been working desperately in trying to make a potion that would change my fate. Yet, I did not try to tell my Mother about my efforts. I kept her in the dark because I felt like her opinion did not matter.
The guilt and shame I felt back then were not something I was willing to accept. I could not bring myself to see her let alone tell her about my life.
I let out a sigh as if trying to dispel those guilty feelings. The both of us were far too similar. We both did not blame each other for what happened but blamed ourselves for the disconnect. It was ridiculous but it was just the way it was.
“I’m sorry for not telling you.” She may not blame me but I was not going to let that stand. She was not to blame for this and I would not allow her to feel that way.
“I’m not blaming you.” She let out quickly and awkwardly. Her tone dyed in panic as she did not want me to think she was blaming me. Her face shows all of those things.
“I know, I’m blaming myself,” I spoke out seriously. I did not want her to misunderstand my motives on this.
My statement put a heavy awkward weight between the two of us. My mother did not know what to say in response to that. While I did not want to say anything more in regards to that. I will not allow her to blame herself for this, I never gave her the opportunity to know more about me.
“So anything else going on?” I asked calmly as I wanted to shift the conversation. I did not want her to dwell on this topic any longer.
“Nothing much.” She mumbled out as she refused to make eye contact with me. I suppose she did not want to tell me my Father was dead. I was not sure why that was but I did not want to pry further.
She could have any amount of reasons for holding back that little piece of information. I was just happy that I was able to provide her with some support. Even if the conversation we had was already weighing down my mood.
