literature

Hate

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Literature Text

Summary: Snape hated Wormtail. Drabble, one-sided Snape/Lily.


"You can't treat me like this! I'm not your slave!"

Snape waved his hand lazily, not even looking up. "If you have a problem with my instructions, Wormtail, perhaps you should have someone talk to the Dark Lord for you. I'm sure he could find you another assignment..." The faintest smirk crossed his lips. "Keeping Nagini well-fed, perhaps?"

"You—you—"

Wormtail looked like he was about to shout, but instead he spun around and scurried away like a rat, allowing the bookshelf to slam shut behind him. As soon as he was gone Snape's snide expression turned into a scowl, and he glared after him, feeling his pulse quicken.

He hated Wormtail.

Snape had hardly noticed him, growing up—nobody had noticed Pettigrew, because there was simply nothing notable about him. He followed Potter and Black around like a fawning house-elf, of course, but he rarely went out of his way to antagonize Snape like they had—the two were enemies on principle, but nothing more. Snape felt the same way in their adult years, when he was a Death Eater and Pettigrew was ostensibly a loyal stooge to Dumbledore's Order of the Phoenix. As a foe, Pettigrew was barely worth considering; he inspired contempt, but was hardly worthy of hatred.

The first time he had truly noticed the little rat was when he stood up to Black and got himself blown to pieces for his trouble. Then Snape had regarded him with a sort of bitter envy.

It had been so easy, in a way, to believe that Black was the Potters' betrayer—Snape had always hated the man, and now he could vent every last jot of his loathing upon him. It wasn't enough to try and kill him—now Black had gone and destroyed everything that Snape had changed sides to protect, making his life hardly worth keeping in the first place. Snape had been as shocked as anyone to learn that Pettigrew was the real culprit—that he, and not Black, was responsible for Lily's death.

As far as Wormtail or anyone else could tell, Snape still regarded him with the same petty disdain that he had shown him back in their school days. That was how the other Death Eaters treated him, after all; there was no sign that Snape's scorn went any deeper than that.

In truth, Snape hated him. Hated him more than Potter, more than Black, even more than he hated the Dark Lord himself.

If not for him, Lily would still be alive. If not for him, the Dark Lord would have never found her, never shown up in Godric's Hollow that night, never been able to fulfill his role in the prophecy—

...the prophecy that Snape had given him, the one that had placed a target on Lily's back in the first place, the one that he had happily passed along, not knowing...

Snape's sneer fell flat. His gaze on the bookshelf turned glassy, and he leaned back in his chair, allowing himself to stew.

He hated Wormtail. Hated him more than anyone else in the world.

At least, that's what Snape kept telling himself, whether or not he actually believed it.
My annual "new story for my birthday." I couldn't really think of a way to make it longer, nor give it a better title. Enjoy!
© 2015 - 2024 JoeMerl
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Karaouq's avatar
Nice, this was well writen, Snape is a favorite character of mine, this decribes him well