He wasn't exactly aware of where his feet were taking him, but at the moment, he didn't care much. He had just finished the exam portion of his Defense Against the Dark Arts O.W.L.'s, and was pouring over his question paper, going over ever answer again and again in his mind, making sure that he put down all of the correct answers.

Truthfully, he wasn't to worried about this test. He would be quite surprised if he didn't receive an O. He had studied practically every spare moment he had. Besides, being so well versed in the Dark Art's, it is only natural to know defense against it.

He felt the heat of the sun on his face and knew his feet were guiding him outside. It was a fairly nice day so he allowed his feet to take him to a shady spot, hopefully well guarded by trees and bush. He sat down in a shady spot and continued to pour over his paper.

Even in the shade, he could feel the burning ray's of the sun hitting his face. He didn't enjoy the feeling, preferring the icy chill of the dungeons to the outside sun any day. After a few minutes he decided it was time to study for Transfiguration, so he stood up, stuffed his paper in his bag, and began walking across the grass.

"All right, Snivellus?"

As was his normal reflex whenever he heard that voice, he dropped his bag and reached for his wand. But he was a few second's too late. The same voice called out, "Expelliarmus," before his wand was even halfway in the air.

His wand few behind him and he glared at Black for the briefest of seconds as he laughed. He dove for his wand, never wanting to be unarmed while surrounded by those four, when he felt a second spell hit him in the back. He was knocked off of his feet and he struggled against the invisible bond's wrapped around him. He could hear the giggles of the growing crowd around him and he wished he had his wand with him, so that he could hex those who dare laugh.

He could see Potter and Black standing near him, wands up, taunting him as he lay there, panting and struggling against the jinx. "How'd the exam go, Snivelly?"

"I was watching him, his nose was touching the parchment, there'll be great grease marks all over it, they won't be able to read a word."

Fury was filling his chest and he was sure his face was turning red. He kept trying to fight the jinx so that he could get up. He hated being mocked by those arrogant prats, the two blood traitors. "You – wait, you – wait…" was all he could manage to say.

"Wait for what? What're going to do, Snivelly? Wipe your nose on us?

Something inside of him snapped, and he couldn't stop the stream of profanity and dark curses coming out of his mouth. He wanted nothing more than to have his wand in his hand, to have a fair fight. He wanted to show those idiots what a real wizard could do.

But the god's were not smiling down on him this day.

"Wash out your mouth. Scourgify!"

He was choking. Soap filled his mouth and covered his face, rendering him unable to breathe properly. Bubbles were flying from his throat as he felt invisible brushes assault his insides. He felt as though he would retch at any moment. He could faintly hear the voice of Evans coming to his rescue. Luckily she distracted Potter enough, and the spells began to wear off. He could breathe and move once more.

He began crawling towards his wand, still spitting pink soap bubbles out of his mouth. Quickly he reached his wand undetected and he pulled himself upward. He heard Black yell as he aimed the first curse to reach his lips at Potter. He thankfully hit his mark and smirked as he saw the gash on his cheek spew blood like a fountain, spattering all over Potter's robes. Perhaps the god's were smiling down on him this day.

Never mind.

The next thing he knew, he was hanging upside down, his robes blocking his vision. Potter had used his own curse, his own invention, against him. He was filled with hatred so pure at that moment as he heard the crowd laughing at him. He felt the wind against his bare legs and cringed. No doubt they were laughing at his graying boxers.

He heard Evans once more, "Let him down."

His head hit the ground and he did a summersault like move, and stood up, his wand out. This time Black was the one to hit him with a curse. His body went rigid and he fell down, stiff as a board. His head hit hard on the ground once more and black spots were clouding his vision. No doubt he would have to visit the Hospital Wing after this encounter. Evans was yelling at Potter to release the curse, and like the idiotic, love sick puppy he was, he lifted the curse.

He struggled to his feet, his mind still whirling and hatred was coursing through his veins. He was searching for his wand when Potter addressed him, "You're lucky Evans was here Snivellus-"

He sneered, "I don't need help from filthy little mudbloods like her," he spat.

Potter's wand was trained on him once more, and he could hear people yelling and laughing, but he ignored them. He was desperately searching for his wand when he felt himself be lifted into the air once more.

"So, who wants to see me take of Snivelly's pants?"

His heart froze in his chest, not even Potter would do that. He doubted that anyone would want to see what was under his graying under things, even if it was a joke. Potter wouldn't do something like that.

No, Potter wouldn't, but Black would.

He heard the incantation and his mind raced for a way out of this, when he felt the breeze. He hung in the air for a few more moments, listening to the jeers from the crowd about the size of his package, and the imitated retching of others, when he fell on his head once more. His robes were tangled around his head and he was still exposed, but he made no move to right them or cover himself. In fact, he didn't move at all.

He could still hear the laughing of the crowd and Potter and Black yelling at him, but he paid them no mind. All he could focus on was the pain in his head and the lack of vision. He waited a few moment's until his head stopped spinning and he could lift his head and then covered himself with his robes. The crowd had left quickly, along with Potter and Black.

They always left before he could seek retribution, before he could engage in a fair battle.

Taking a few shaky steps, he grabbed his bag and slowly walked back into the castle. His ears were ringing and he was slightly dizzy, but he walked to the Hospital Wing never the less. He didn't have to tell the nurse what had happened, he had come in so many times like this, always for the same reason, that she didn't ask anymore.

She handed him the right potion and ordered him to stay over night, in case he had a concussion.

Alone in the darkness he made a vow to himself. He would see the end of Potter and Black, one day he would put them in there place, show them who the better wizard was. He would get his revenge. He had herd Lucius mention a group, the Death Eaters, once. Perhaps they would help him seek revenge against Potter and Black. After all, Lucius said that the group was known for their dislike of Mudbloods and Blood Traitors.

Yes, the Death Eaters would help him, and once he was of age, he would join. Then Potter and Black would rue the day they ever messed with Severus Snape.