A one time thing {Severus Snape}

Chapter 5: Confession

"I remember," she whispered, her head began to hurt. She was tired, weary and her heart ached.

"Keep it in mind," he whispered softly.

"So, you are going to hurt me." Her voice was weary too.

"Nope!" He laughed and stepped away from the wall. "You're going to do that all by yourself!" He smiled at her, but it wasn't a kind smile. It was the kind of smile that would freeze hell over.

"Megan Kincaid, I want to see you go to hell this year. I want to see you suffer what we've suffered for the past nine years!"

Anger flooded through Meg completely unbidden.

"You think I haven't suffered? If I could go back and change things, I would!" She hissed furious with him now. "But I can't! For nine years I've lived with the knowledge that I killed someone, and not just anyone, my best friend. For nine years, every time I look in the mirror I remember. I'd give anything for that time again!"

"My heart bleeds for you!" he spat at her. "You've had to suffer? You make me laugh! You say if you went back you'd change things, but you wouldn't. Essentially you're the same person now you were then; over bearing, opinionated and self-righteous. No one is ever right according to you. Your ways, your rules, that's all you've ever cared about and all you ever will care about!"

"No!" She shook her head, his accusations ringing in her ears.

"Yes!" he hissed. "You're doing it still... that boy, Longbottom, he'll never ever get potions right, it's not in him! But you? Oh no! You say he will do it, so you'll make damn sure he does, even if you have to beat him senseless to do it. You can't begin to accept that maybe you're not the be all and end all, that maybe, just once in awhile you're wrong! Very wrong!" He drew a breath, his voice raising. "You insist that things are done your way, according to you, Snape is a lousy teacher! Did you never stop to consider that every year for goodness knows how long, 98 of his class get through their finals? Not one Professor here can attain to that. You sure as hell won't! But you..." He stepped back and drew out his wand.

Meg froze; every nerve in her body stretched to screaming point.

"You waltz in here with your fancy ways and your fancy airs, while it should be you rotting in the ground and not Sarah!" His voice faded away and his wand lowered, his face distraught.

"I had no idea you taught here," he whispered. "When I first heard your name at breakfast and you weren't there, I was sure I had it wrong. Life couldn't be that cruel; but it was you, laughing, smiling, looking happy, and getting friendly with our resident greasy haired git. You don't deserve any of this, none of it. You shouldn't be allowed to smile when Sarah will never smile again, you shouldn't be allowed to laugh when she can't! I could kill you for that alone. She had everything to look forward to. She was young, beautiful, clever.... She was the most amazing person alive and you killed her!" He was spitting pure venom at her and she knew she deserved it. Knew she had no defence.

He shook his head. "Nine years," he whispered. "And it still feels like yesterday!"

Meg hadn't realised she was crying till she felt tears running down her chin, soaking the front of her robes.

"Dean, I'm sorry," her voice cracked, sounding hoarse.

"So am I," he whispered and turning, walking away, his wand hanging limply by his side, his shoulders hunched. He looked like a ninety-year-old man, instead of a twenty four-year-old.

Meg watched him till he disappeared round a corner; then very slowly she sunk to the ground silent sobs racking her body.

He'd attacked her with everything he had and every last word had hit her hard. He was only repeating what she'd thought many times over; but to hear it now, after so many years of being able to cope.