Bitterly Unrequited

Chapter 1 - Rejection

Spoilers and warnings: This story has a few HBP spoilers, and tons of OotP spoilers. Just to let you know. This story is very angsty and quite dark, focusing on the psychological development of Severus Snape throughout his life, and it does contain suicide attempts, self-abuse, and eventually murder. You have been warned.

As of July 26, 2007: I've decided to come back to this story, after abandoning it around ten million and three times. There may be a few Deathly Hallows spoilers, but for the most part I'm pretending it doesn't exist for the sake of this story, because so much about Snape was revealed that it'd be ridiculous to try and rewrite things to be accurate with it. Therefore, I'm ignoring a lot of it, and that is intentional. I'm going to go back through and edit a lot of the story that was less well-written and do some much-needed revising. Just to let any readers I may still have know )

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any of the characters, etc. No profit is made, and so on...

He lurked broodingly in the corner, watching his students walk to their next class. An amused smirk crossed his face as he saw Harry Potter and Ginny Weasely walking down the corridor together, hand in hand. They were ever so sickeningly sweet, so atrociously adorable - it would be almost unbearable, had it been less amusing to see the legendary Potter going doe-eyed over some silly girl.

"But after all," a part of him said, "they are only fifteen or sixteen...you too had your share of sighing obsessions at that age, no matter how much you wish to deny it."

But his Hogwarts years were a time he refrained from thinking about when at all possible.

With a small kiss, Harry and Ginny parted ways, going to their separate classes. The Potter boy, he firmly told himself, did not interest him in the slightest, for he'd watched the boy grow over the years into his inheritance as an arrogant brat. He found himself instead looking at the Weasely girl. He had tried never to compare Ginny to her before, but the similarities were undeniable...Ginny was even excellent at Potions, just like her, though he'd never admit it. She was full of spunk, of life, her eyes full of fun and compassion, her hair that exact same shade of auburn that he had loved over twenty years ago...

It was spring in his fifth year, the day before before their O.W.L. exams began. Severus Snape watched Lily Evans walking with her group of girlfriends, absolutely entranced by every move she made. She soon parted from her friends, heading down to the dungeons for her Potions class. He followed her softly, knowing she could not hear him, knowing that he was practically invisible to her.

Potions had always been Severus's favorite class. He and Lily were, according to Professor Slughorn, two of the best potions-brewers Hogwarts had seen in a few centuries. The class also provided an excellent opportunity for James Potter to show what an idiot he truly was, which was always extremely pleasant. But above all, he and Lily were often assigned to work together, as they were at the top of their class.

Lily Evans was, he had decided over four years ago, the epitome of a perfect girl. She was absolutely gorgeous, with that thick, auburn hair that fell in waves down her shoulders, those piercingly beautiful green eyes he always felt himself falling into...but there was more to his affection than merely her beauty. He admired her and looked up to her as he had never respected anyone before. She was the first, the only person to ever truly accept him as a friend, she had always been kind and sweet to him. He felt he could talk to her, open up to her. She was caring in a world that hated him, and it was natural, therefore, that his feelings could turn from just friendship...he wouldn't be able to truly live without her, of that he was sure.

Lily was about to enter the dungeon when he called out to her. "Excuse me, Lily...could I talk to you for a moment?"

Her brow furrowed in surprise. "Of course, Sev," she replied, "but we'll be late for Potions..."

He raised an eyebrow. "And you really think that Slughorn would even dream of repremanding either of us for being late?"

She laughed. "That's highly unlikely, I suppose," she replied, following him as he led her down the corridor, a small, nervous smile in his dark eyes. He pulled her away from the door of the Potions class, where no one would overhear them, by chance or otherwise.

"Err, Lily," he began, nervously pushing his long black locks out of his eyes, his heart pounding. "I was wondering...since next weekend is Hogsmeade weekend, if you would like to go...y'know, with me...to eat dinner or..."

He was staring at her, silently imploring her to say yes, but she was looking away. With anyone else, it would have appeared to be a small matter, but she knew him - an invitation to dinner from Severus was practically his profession of undying love. He never spoke in terms of emotions, she'd known that for years, and he resorted to this to make his feelings known. She took a deep breath, praying he'd take it well. "Just as friends?" she asked silently, already knowing the answer - she had seen the way he had always looked at her, known that he internally worshipped her.

He did not reply. He looked away from her quickly as a cold, emotionless mask quickly coating his face - a mask Lily had seen on him all too often. She looked back up at him, her eyes compassionate. "I'm so sorry, Severus," she said, "but I...I don't want things to be different between us, and I..." She glanced back down the hall as Sirius Black, Peter Pettigrew, Remus Lupin, and lastly, James Potter entered the dungeon for Potions, her wide eyes lingering for a moment too long on the last of the party.

He glanced up at her, anger undisguised in his eyes. "So," he sneered bitterly, "you choose that imbecile Potter?"

"Please," she said, looking close to tears, "please don't take it that way, Severus - you're a wonderful friend and truly brilliant, really - think of all the potions and spells you've created, and you're not even past your O.W.L.s yet! You're an absolute genius, really, and it has nothing to do with you, really...it's more me that's the problem..."

"Save your pity, Lily," he interrupted, disgust and contempt coating his voice. "I have neither want nor need of it. Don't waste another second thinking about the brillantly undatable Severus. Now, I do believe you're late for Potions."

With that, he turned and walked away, walking straight past the classroom. Lily stood, defeated, for a moment, then walked slowly into her class.

"I'm sorry I'm late, Professor Slughorn..."

He stood in the Prefects' bathroom, looking in the mirror. He wasn't crying, he wouldn't cry - crying showed sadness, sadness was an emotion, emotions showed weakness, and he would not be weak. He stared, disgusted, at the appaling form in the mirror. He was altogether too thin...he rarely ate, simply because food held no particular appeal for him. His skin was far too pale...he hated sunlight. He pawed angrily at the greasy locks that refused to stay out of his eyes. He glared in the mirror at the disgusting, portruding nose that seemed to him to cover half of his face...

He slowly took out his wand, still staring at the gross, offensive creature reflected in the mirror. He pulled up his robe's sleeve, looking at the pale, bare flesh of his left arm, and pointed his wand at it. He murmured the spell he had created for this one purpose, "Sectumsempra."

Blood came out of his arm like a red river - beautiful, perfect, self-atoning blood...he lived for the sight of this blood, streaming down his pale arm so gracefully. It hurt like hell, but that didn't matter - nothing mattered in the end, as long as he bled. He depended on this sight of blood flowing on his arms to survive. He muttered the spell over and over again, slashing open different parts of his arms, watching the blood...

Trembling, he turned his arm over and held the wand at his wrist. If he used the spell on his vein, he would die, and fairly quickly...he couldn't...the thoughts raced...he wouldn't be able to stay conscious much longer with the blood flowing that quickly from his arm...of course, the spells had not hit anywhere near a vein, but with so many cuts, he was losing blood quickly...

He faintly saw a fair-haired boy rush to his side, and then his world was overtaken by blackness.

He awoke a few minutes later with a numb aching in his left arm. Remus Lupin was kneeling beside him, a concerned look on his face. "Snape, are you all right? You...you lost quite a bit of blood." His voice wavering.

"It's nothing," Snape said shortly, noticing, as he sat up, that the wounds on his arm had all healed over but for a few white raised scars and the blood on his robes and skin had vanished - a clever bit of Charm work from Lupin, he assumed.

"What happened?" asked the other boy softly, his grey eyes steadily watching the thin boy.

"I was testing out a new spell I had read about," he lied coldly, a fixed, emotionless mask again taking over his face, "and it didn't work correctly and backfired on me."

"Severus," said Remus quietly, "when I walked in, you had your wand pointed at your wrist, covered in blood...that doesn't seem like a backfiring spell to me."

"And how the hell is it your business, Lupin?" he shot angrily. He stood up, drawing himself to his full height, a full two or so inches shorter than the other. "You will not repeat what you saw to anyone - not to Potter or Black or Pettigrew...or you will suffer my displeasure." He began to leave the bathroom, then said, his voice rather muffled, "And you will not mention this to Lily."

This didn't matter - Lily didn't matter. Nothing really mattered, now...

A/N: Please review...I'm always glad to hear any kind of comments, good or bad. I highly appreciate constructive criticism. Thanks...and I hope that wasn't too unbelievably depressing...although that is sort of the point. Anyway, review.