Hungry

By darthelwig

I don't own the characters. I just got inspired and decided to write some fan fiction.

This story is rated PG. It's just a one-shot, though. I saw Prisoner of Azkaban and had to write this. Snape is just such a tragic figure in my head.

            He had been alone for so long that he could no longer remember what it was like to not be.

            He had never known the warmth of having a friend. He had never experienced the joy that came from loving, caring parents. He had never known what it was to be accepted for whom and what he was. And he had never really regretted any of that… until now.

            Being part of the Order had done that to him. He had been exposed to people who knew of love, who possessed friends and loved ones. They were outcasts, surely, but nothing like he was. If nothing else, they had each other. He, on the other hand, was separate even from their ranks.

            But that wasn't the worst of it. No.

            Potter and his friends had driven the point home all too well. Their easy camaraderie and deep affection for each other had sparked something within him. He supposed one could call it a yearning for human warmth and interaction. He called it a thorn in his side.

            Never in all his forty-odd years had he ever felt this burning need to be a part of something. Never had he wanted to be someone's friend. He had always been happiest alone. That was how he had preferred things to be, but now everything was changed.

            He found himself coming up with reasons to be around other people. However much it annoyed him, he sought out company. His chambers were too cold and harsh. He emerged more often into the light and bustle of the school. He seldom spoke, but it was still a marked change from his previous behavior of years past. Some of his fellow teachers commented on his sudden change of heart. Others more wisely kept their mouths shut. No one asked why.

            What could he have told them? I yearn for a life as full and rich with love as Potter's? I envy Mister Potter his friendships? I would trade all that I had achieved for a single moment of true intimacy with another human being?

            Hardly.

            So he quietly became more bitter and isolated than ever in his cocoon of icy silence. Nothing touched him. His heart cried out and beat itself bloody against the unyielding walls of stone that were his insecurities. He was slowly bleeding to death from within and no one would ever know.

            Except…

            Miss Granger knew, didn't she? Always standing up for him, wasn't she; always insisting that her fellows treat him with at least a modicum of respect. She was a candle in the darkness of his night. She burned more brilliantly than even his most happy of memories. She was a beacon for his needs and desires. His heart had begun to recognize her as someone who would understand his plight. She wore her heart on her sleeve, didn't she? Oh yes. He knew she would be able to sympathize with him.

            And that was dangerous. She was still a student. Worse, she was Potter's friend. He could not allow his heart to fixate on her as an answer to his loneliness. She was beyond his reach. Her star hung far above him, much too far a distance to cross, especially for one such as him.

            He was embroiled in darkness. She was a bringer of light. His longings for human interaction could not extend to her. He could never hope to touch her.

            But telling his heart this did not help at all. He still found himself thinking of her as he lay alone in his cold sheets, wanting something he dared not name. He would think of her smile, which he had seen so few times and never directed his way. That smile could bring light even into his darkened soul.

            But his wants had never mattered. And could his wants even be trusted? He had made the decision to become a Death Eater. He had participated in horrific acts until finally growing to understand how wrong those things actually were. The only choice he had ever been proud of was choosing to betray the Dark Lord and become a spy for the Order. Too little too late, though. He was marked and branded. He had never seen the goodness inside of himself that Dumbledore insisted was there. He doubted sometimes that it even existed. Only his faith in the Headmaster kept him from despairing.

            He could never bring this part of himself, so plagued with self-doubt and fear, into the light. His barriers had been put up at much too young an age. He would never be comfortable exposing himself in that manner.

            Miss Granger deserved someone who could be much more than he ever would. His taint was still too fresh to be risked staining someone else.

            He was hungry for the healing that could be found in another's touch, but he did not wish to soil such a pure spirit with his past failures. He would starve himself first.

            People like him did not deserve to be satisfied.