Turning a frown into a smirk
Okay so I've been in a shity mood lately more than likely due to stress-I cried 3 times today...THREE! and there were no movies involved! *sigh* This has resulted in me reading angsty fanfic because well misery love company...And then I wrote this because I write angst when upset-but it has taught me that I suck at song lyrics and I was making a simple Christmas song into something horrible angsty...
Also the Deahtly Hallow Awards are totally allowing me to procrastinate lol
Taking a swig of whiskey, his usual depression seemed less oppressing. Hearing John Lennon’s “Happy Xmas” blaring on the radio to his right, he wondered how he managed to fool anyone.
Severus snorted to himself and remembered the reason for his depression; nobody cares about a lonely, bitter, crippled forty year-old man.
As the radio chimed in ‘So this is Xmas and what have you done?’ he honestly took a serious look at himself and found he was lacking. Can’t get up the bloody stairs; have to wait for Granger to do anything for me-Oh how low I have sunk.
He took another swig from the bottle in his right hand and contemplated the object in his left. It took the work of a few summoning spells, the only spell that seemed to be reliable, and an afternoon nap but he finally held sweet release in his hands. Ironic how a bloody poisonous snake couldn’t kill me but a muggle pistol will sure enough do the job.
Severus brought the bottle back to his lips and gulped down the burning liquid, trying to remember what had driven him to this point anyway. Christmas had always been hard for him after coming home his last year during the winter holidays to find both of his parents dead. He remembered being horrified to come home and find his mothers brains blown out, tarnishing the old wallpaper. Finding his father’s body hanging from the ceiling of their old bedroom hadn’t helped matters much either. I don’t know why I kept the damn thing, but maybe now it will finally come in handy, he though, looking over the pistol.
He wondered what Granger would feel when she came to care for him after the winter celebrations were over-how she would feel to show up for a therapy session only to find a partially decomposed body. Severus shuddered and glanced and the pistol again, wondering if he was making the right choice. The sounds of the door unlocking broke his morose train of thought and caused him to look up, hoping at best it was thief intent to kill him and raid his house for any valuables. Please don’t let it be her-I don’t want her to see me brought this low.
The cheerful voice calling out shattered his illusion and his eyes filled with tears, knowing that she would fix him better than he could fix himself. He was too filled with relief to hear he words, hear as she called for Draco to come and help her in a moment of fear. He could just see her worried face as he broke down into sobs, happy he would make it to another year whether he wanted to or not. As John Lennon played in the background and Draco fire called his father in a panic, Severus cried in Hermione’s arms knowing he had what he needed now even if it hadn’t been clear moments before.
Also the Deahtly Hallow Awards are totally allowing me to procrastinate lol
Taking a swig of whiskey, his usual depression seemed less oppressing. Hearing John Lennon’s “Happy Xmas” blaring on the radio to his right, he wondered how he managed to fool anyone.
Severus snorted to himself and remembered the reason for his depression; nobody cares about a lonely, bitter, crippled forty year-old man.
As the radio chimed in ‘So this is Xmas and what have you done?’ he honestly took a serious look at himself and found he was lacking. Can’t get up the bloody stairs; have to wait for Granger to do anything for me-Oh how low I have sunk.
He took another swig from the bottle in his right hand and contemplated the object in his left. It took the work of a few summoning spells, the only spell that seemed to be reliable, and an afternoon nap but he finally held sweet release in his hands. Ironic how a bloody poisonous snake couldn’t kill me but a muggle pistol will sure enough do the job.
Severus brought the bottle back to his lips and gulped down the burning liquid, trying to remember what had driven him to this point anyway. Christmas had always been hard for him after coming home his last year during the winter holidays to find both of his parents dead. He remembered being horrified to come home and find his mothers brains blown out, tarnishing the old wallpaper. Finding his father’s body hanging from the ceiling of their old bedroom hadn’t helped matters much either. I don’t know why I kept the damn thing, but maybe now it will finally come in handy, he though, looking over the pistol.
He wondered what Granger would feel when she came to care for him after the winter celebrations were over-how she would feel to show up for a therapy session only to find a partially decomposed body. Severus shuddered and glanced and the pistol again, wondering if he was making the right choice. The sounds of the door unlocking broke his morose train of thought and caused him to look up, hoping at best it was thief intent to kill him and raid his house for any valuables. Please don’t let it be her-I don’t want her to see me brought this low.
The cheerful voice calling out shattered his illusion and his eyes filled with tears, knowing that she would fix him better than he could fix himself. He was too filled with relief to hear he words, hear as she called for Draco to come and help her in a moment of fear. He could just see her worried face as he broke down into sobs, happy he would make it to another year whether he wanted to or not. As John Lennon played in the background and Draco fire called his father in a panic, Severus cried in Hermione’s arms knowing he had what he needed now even if it hadn’t been clear moments before.