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Chapter Text

Harry was dreaming again. Though, he wasn’t sure if he could call it dreaming, exactly. It was more-so like swimming, he thought, as he watched the canopy of stars stretched out ahead of him. Every time he closed his eyes, he would see them first. The longer he continued to stare at it though, the more they began to expand and mix together until he’d realize they weren’t stars at all-but memories. Lord Voldemort’s memories, too. His Occlumency lessons with Snape had taught him that much, never mind how bad he was at it.

The memories called out to him now and he’d extend an arm out towards them, urging them to approach him. To envelope himself in them so he wouldn’t have to think about what mattered anymore. He’d throw his head back and he’d swim through them. Images of people and places that he did not know nor recognize, but none of that mattered. He’d wait, bide his time until Voldemort accidentally revealed the information that he was looking for. Like where he was hiding, for instance. If he could just see that, he could tell Dumbledore and then the Ministry would finally believe that he, Harry, had been telling the truth all along. And Cedric’s death would be acknowledged as it should have been; a horrifying murder of a teen boy rather than a clumsy accident.

He clenched his fists together even now as the floating heads of people glistened about him. He squinted very hard at them, trying to see if he could place them. There were other ways he could help, too. The Order of the Phoenix weren’t faring too well in the war and at the end of every month, at least one person went missing or found dead by their homes. If he could see any one of them in Voldemort’s mind, he’d be able to save more lives. Be more useful.

Where are you, he asked as the memories began to blot together and fade away. He could feel the excitement gripping at him. The last time, he thought excitedly, the last time this had happened, he’d been transported to the mysterious corridor in Voldemort’s mind. Where the Order’s secret weapon was being heavily guarded. As colors and shapes zoomed past him, he planted his feet firmly to the surface of the ground he was stood. When the blurry clouds around him finally solidified into the hollow brick-laid path, Harry felt himself push towards where the singular door at the end of the corridor awaited. Heart palpitating, he forced himself to focus on getting there-but it was very hard when a small voice in the back of his head was begging for him to snap out of it. If Snape found out that he’d been entertaining these visions…

Focus, he snapped, just focus. He was so close, Harry thought, as he neared the door. If he could just reach out a little further, he’d be able to turn the knob and see what it was Dumbledore had half his men protecting. He let out a triumphant shout when he could push against the door but the joy was short-lived, for he suddenly felt his body being thrown backwards by an unknown force. Though the patterns around him hadn’t yet set in, he took one look at the gravestones around him and knew instantly where he was. When the shapes finally took their forms, Harry was taken aback in astonishment as he stared down the pale face of Severus Snape.

Harry’s mouth was agape, wondering if Snape had somehow found out about his late-night mind travels and had come to punish him. When he tried to move away, he found that his feet wouldn’t budge from where he stood. Left with no other option, Harry shifted his gaze back to the kneeling Snape who hadn’t uttered a word yet. Snape was a particularly vocal man and had had his fair share of trying to get him into trouble with Dumbledore before. Yet, he was as still as a rabbit here when in any other circumstance, he’d have grabbed him by the ear and dragged him out of the memory.

Unless, of course, this wasn’t a memory anymore. As he watched, a small trickle of sweat travelled from his greasy forehead and stung his eyes. Snape looked as he always did, white-faced and sour-looking. But as Harry drew closer to observe, he realized that there were minute discrepancies in how he was portrayed now. The usual cold, black eyes were now wide open, as if awaiting a call for execution. His lips, which were more than often curled in a vicious sneer, were now trembling and tightly held. He looked…desperate, Harry thought. The grounded fear etched remarkably across every line in his teacher’s face began to gnaw at him now.

“Have you had enough, Severus?”

Though Snape appeared unfazed by the sudden high and cold voice, Harry was. He jumped at the sound of Voldemort’s voice, the hairs on his neck rising as if the man was standing right behind him. When he turned, though, there wasn’t anyone there. There was a cold hiss and it was only now that Harry realized it was coming from where he was stood. He was Voldemort, he thought frantically. And it was him that was speaking now.

Snape opened his mouth but all that was heard were small grunts and noises. Voldemort laughed, the sound making Harry feel as though he’d just had a bucket of cold water splashed over him.

“Your words fail you, Severus,” Voldemort said in a mocking tone. “Just as you have failed me.”

“M-my…Lord…” Snape rasped, fingers clawing desperately at his collar. His skin was beginning to turn a violent purple now and just as Harry thought his teacher would burst, there was the sound of a wand slashing the air. Moments later, Snape fell to his side, gasping for air. He coughed and shook, taking in quick breaths so that color slowly returned to his cheeks.

“Speak.”

Harry held in his breath as Snape balanced himself back into a kneeling position, swaying lightly as he gazed up at Harry.

“My Lord,” he said shakily, hesitating before speaking again. “Everything I relayed to you…everything…it was everything Albus Dumbledore-agh!”

Snape hadn’t even had the chance to finish before Harry heard Voldemort utter the curse that made the hook-nosed man jerk and writhe uncontrollably on the ground. He knew exactly what Snape was feeling, he’d felt it before, and he was utterly helpless to stop it. Seeing the pained expression on Snape’s face now, Harry was reminded of how much the Cruciatus Curse had hurt when Voldemort had used it on him last year.

Snape twitched silently, though, as Voldemort held on to the curse for a minute longer. His fingers had dug into the earth and his mouth clamped shut so as to not draw out a single cry. Snape fell on his back just as Harry felt Voldemort release the hold of the curse over him.

“Amazing, isn’t it, how much a man’s pride allows him of enduring unimaginable pain? He has always known how to take his punishments, old Severus does…”

A sense of dread filled Harry now as Voldemort’s voice rang through Harry’s mind, the magnitude seemed to have multiplied from earlier. There could be no way…had Voldemort sensed Harry’s presence in his mind-?

“You never fail to surprise me, Harry. Surely you did not think you could invade my mind unless I allowed you to? Did you think it is a simple feat to be achieved-a foolish child as yourself, look into the minds of the greatest Legilimens that has ever lived?

That prickling fear Harry had felt at the beginning had suddenly gripped at him, making it difficult to breathe all of a sudden.

Wake up, he said to himself, wake up now, you idiot.

This time when Voldemort laughed, there was a whipping noise in the air and Snape was back on the floor-this time a cry was forced out by the sudden attack.

“No,” said Voldemort. “You will not leave so easily. Not after I have prepared such a lovely performance for you, Harry. You wanted to know so badly what goes on beyond the castle walls, didn’t you? Come…look…you’re very well acquainted with Severus, are you not?”

Harry was quiet, mind racing for ways to leave. He racked his brains trying to figure out if Snape had ever mentioned of a way to break through his connection with Voldemort. But hard as he tried, the only thing Snape had been sniping at him to do for months was to clear his mind. Clear your mind, Snape’s voice echoed in Harry’s head. Control your emotions…but that was easier said than done…

“No answer?” asked Voldemort nonchalantly. “Crucio!”

Snape was lifted of the ground now, eyes closed tight as Harry imagined what excruciating pain he must be feeling.

“Yes!” Harry shouted but Snape, who was dangling mid-air was oblivious to it.

“I know who he is,” Harry said, more adamantly this time. “Let him go!”

Voldemort released Snape, nudging at the fallen man so he was rolled over on his back. Snape stared back, his eyes red and watery.

“Once again, your resilience astounds me, Severus.”

Snape continued to make eye contact with his master wordlessly.

“You see, Harry,” Voldemort said, switching back to Harry now. “Severus is here tonight because I have requested a private audience with him. I will show you tonight what I shall do with traitorous men.”

“Tell me, Severus, do you know why you’re here?”

“My Lord?” Snape asked in a small voice that Harry didn’t think could have possibly come from the feared Potions Master of Hogwarts.

“When he came back to me last year,” Voldemort continued in a low hiss, “he begged for me to take him back. Told me all about his servitude with Albus Dumbledore, and how he hoped that it was time for him to exact his vengeance. But tell me, Harry…how can I trust him? How do I trust a man who spent years under the protection of Albus Dumbledore?”

Harry’s eyes were on Snape’s form, barely registering what Voldemort was saying. Snape was breathing, he could see the rapid rise and fall of his chest-and that was the most important thing right now. That he was alive.

“But he convinced me. He’s always been good with his words, a Death Eater not so much. Though he started out as a promising wizard, he came to let me down tremendously. When I returned, so did he. And made grand promises, he did, Harry. Told me all of the things I’d wanted to hear…how Dumbledore was a fool...but I was the fool. I believed him, trusted him enough to take his word. And yet, here we are…a year later and I am not much closer to winning this war than when it began. Every step, every thought-out plan…never entirely successful…always failing.”

Ron, Harry thought furiously. If you can hear me, wake me up-wake me up, please-

“No,” said Voldemort again, his rage making Harry’s scar hurt. “Try to leave and I’ll send your dear Professor’s corpse to Dumbledore right this instant, is that clear?”

Yes, Harry breathed in response and felt the other man relax.

“Good boy. Now, where were we-? Oh yes, Severus, the question about your loyalty. Tell me now, and tell me honest and true-did you mean it when you promised your undevoted loyalty to me that day in the graveyard? Or were they simply tales your precious Dumbledore prepared for you to say?”

When Snape didn’t answer, Voldemort stooped to grab him by the hair. With Harry’s face so close to Snape’s face now, he could see the man clearly. The previous frightful expression was gone and now replaced with a vacancy that scared Harry. He looked lifeless, a shell of a man and nothing more.

“Answer me,” Voldemort hissed.

“My loyalty,” Snape said carefully, “is only served towards you and your cause, My Lord.”

“Then why? Why are all our plans failing? Everything I know and do, I confide only to you…so why is he always a step ahead? Is it proof of your treachery? Or is it a sign of my own failure?”

 Snape chose to stay silent, for which Harry was grateful. He could feel the anger Voldemort was feeling now, despite how quiet and reserved he was. Harry thought it’d be dangerous for Snape to say anything at the moment, in fear of him being at the receiving end of this rage.

“Why have I failed?”

“He…he changed his mind…he did not…he did not think to tell me…the changes in the plan…My Lord…”

“Which brings us to the next question. If he hasn’t told you, do I take it to mean he no longer confides and trusts you as he once did?”

“I…I cannot answer that, My Lord.”

“No?” challenged Voldemort in a high voice. “Why not?”

The intensity and restraint Voldemort forced onto himself was so overbearing that Harry thought he would die. There was so many emotions flowing in him at once, and his head was throbbing like crazy, too.

“I do not know.”

“Don’t you?” Voldemort shrieked, rising to his feet. He lifted Snape half off the ground and flung him away from him with hard force. Snape landed in a pile like a broken ragdoll.

“Shall I find the answer myself, then, Severus? You’re too weak to control yourself,” Voldemort said viciously. “Shall we see how well you hold yourself against me now?”

Harry began to catch on. This had been Voldemort’s intention all along. Back in their Occlumency classes, Snape had told him how Voldemort would successfully invade the minds of his enemies. It wasn’t so much his skill than it was how he employed attacks against his opponents’ vulnerabilities first. Once they were powerless and frail, he’d seize control over their mind-opening it and examining it by force.

“Legilimens!”

There was a flood of memories that opened up as Harry and Voldemort were both in Snape’s mind now. Images appeared in front of Harry, though they disappeared as quickly as they had showed up. Voldemort was searching, he thought. He was looking for any memory that could pinpoint Snape’s betrayal.

Harry caught brief images of a tall, hook-nosed man as he pushed a sallow-faced woman into a glass cabinet, a girl with a long face pointing at a teenage Snape as she laughed, a dark-haired girl leaning in towards an adult Snape, a lanky teenage Snape choking back tears as he sat by the lake; Harry looked away. He didn’t want to see any of this. He wanted to help Snape but there wasn’t anything he could do. When he shifted his gaze forwards once more, it was a memory of Snape and Dumbledore. It could have been in the last three years, for all Harry knew. Dumbledore was leaned back against his chair, announcing calmly to Snape that he’d been rejected once more for the DADA position. The memory blurred out before forming new ones, this time of Harry being forced in detention with Snape. Then it was Snape watching with a cruel smile as Hermione ran from him and towards the hospital wing; McGonagall laughing loudly and elbowing Snape when Harry had caught the snitch-

And then they were back to where they’d been before. Voldemort paced as Snape made an effort to stand, failing miserably and toppled over by the ground. He lifted his head lightly to acknowledge his hesitant master.

“You hate them, don’t you, Severus? You hate them all?” Voldemort asked.

Snape nodded.

“Especially Potter?”

Another nod.

“If I gave the orders, Severus, would you kill him?

Snape frowned, obviously taking his time to process Voldemort’s question.

“My Lord?” he asked, voice barely a whisper.

“Would you kill Harry Potter, Severus?”

“Y-yes.”

“And Albus Dumbledore? Would you kill him, too?”

The answer came quicker this time, much firmer.

“Yes, My Lord.”

“Do you see, Harry?” Voldemort exclaimed gleefully. “This man here would kill you and Dumbledore if I asked of it! Does that surprise you?”

I don’t care, Harry thought.

“Don’t you? Doesn’t it drive you to insanity to know that this is the man Dumbledore seems to have so much trust on? To know he would kill Dumbledore…doesn’t that make you angry, Harry? Surely you wouldn’t allow anyone to lay a hand on your sweet Headmaster’s hair-?”

Harry didn’t know what Voldemort was trying to do. He was trying to egg him on but why?

“Come…I will show you a way you can get rid of all that anger inside of you…come, Harry. You haven’t used the Cruciatus curse before, have you? Here, I will show you…”

“Crucio!”

Harry shook his head weakly as Snape writhed in pain, body curling in towards himself as he did. Voldemort laughed cruelly, taking the curse off him.

“Do you feel better now, Harry? You must…I mean, it isn’t everyday you see the man you hate in such a position? Think, Harry…how many times has he made your life miserable? He deserves this, doesn’t he? Shall we drive him to insanity so you never have to see him again?”

Don’t, Harry pleaded. Please.

“Such nobility,” Voldemort said, tsking mockingly. “Dumbledore’s been rubbing off on you, I see. If revenge is not your wish, then perhaps mercy. Shall I end his misery instead, Harry? What say you?”

Harry didn’t answer. He was terrified. It was evident things had gotten out of control tonight. If he could just wake up, he could get Dumbledore…

“Tell me why I should spare you, Severus, and I shall. If your answer displeases me, then I shall grant you a final mercy and end your pain.”

Snape struggled to speak, mouth moving though what came out was a string of unintelligible words neither Harry nor Voldemort could make up.

“I…I…I d –” he spluttered.

Harry closed his eyes. He knew what was coming. He’d seen enough deaths by now to know Snape’s life was nearing its end. Harry couldn’t bear to see yet another person dying in his stead, especially not Snape. He certainly hated the man, but not enough to think a cruel death like this was well-deserved. Harry began to feel himself floating away as Voldemort’s voice began to shrink into the distance. He could hear other voices around him, loud and familiar ones.

“Harry?”

“Harry! Wake up!”

He felt a strong arm around his back lifting him up. As Harry finally opened his eyes, he stared straight into Ron’s concerned face. He threw himself at his best friend, demanding to be held there as he grappled to keep his train of thoughts. Ron pulled away, shaking him lightly. Harry’s back was drenched in sweat, hand trembling as he put on his glasses.

“What’s going on, Harry? Is it-have you had another dream?

Harry pushed past Ron as he got to his feet. Neville and Seamus were wide away, staring at him as though he’d lost his marbles.

“I’ve got to see Dumbledore!”

“Wait-wait, slow down, Harry! What’s happened?”

“It’s Snape!” Harry cried.

“What’s Snape done? Listen, Harry, yeah? I’ve told Dean to fetch McGonagall –”

There’s no time! I have to see Dumbledore now or he’s going to die! Tell McGonagall to find me at Dumbledore’s office-I’ve got to go now!”

And Harry raced out of the room, still very much dressed in his oversized pajamas. He hadn’t another thought in mind except to get the headmaster and somehow, anyhow, find Snape and get him back to the school.

Chapter Text

It had been almost an hour since Harry relayed his dream to Dumbledore, and the only reaction he’d gotten from the older man was a low grunt of affirmation. Dumbledore had quickly gotten up from his seat and began to pace back and forth, looking to be very deep in thought. There was a distant ticking noise in the office that continuously irked Harry as he waited restlessly for a response. Next to him, McGonagall kept opening her mouth as if to speak but closed it back every time.

When the ticking noise went off from the hundredth time, Harry jumped to his feet angrily.

“What’s taking so long?” he cried at just the same time that Fawkes let out a soft cry. He saw the look of disapproval on McGonagall’s face at his outburst but he couldn’t really care at the moment. It had already been an hour and they were no close to finding Snape. For all they knew, he was already dead.

Dumbledore hadn’t said a word. He hadn’t asked him where Snape and Voldemort had been, whether or not Harry had recognized the area. Not that he could help with that, anyway. Every time he thought hard about the dream-memory, the only thing he could recall clearly was Snape’s stricken face as he was bent over under the Cruciatus Curse.

“Would you just look at me?” he shouted again; this time McGonagall had swatted at his arm.

“Potter –”

“It’s alright, Minerva,” Dumbledore said sternly. Harry exhaled, feeling his shoulders slump over as Dumbledore finally turned to face him.

“Sir,” Harry said pleadingly. “There must be something we can do…”

“Listen to me, Harry,” said Dumbledore sharply. “Professor Snape knew the risks of the job when he signed up for this position –”

“–but that doesn’t mean that we shouldn’t try to help him! If you saw what’d been done to him…”

“He’s right, Albus. Do you not think it’s best to alert the Order? If it is as Potter said and Severus’ position has been compromised…the least we could do is have people look for him.”

As cool and collected as she sounded, the worry lines on Harry’s head of house were stretched thin. There was a look of absolute mortification on her face that suggested to Harry that Snape and her weren’t as much enemies as the rest of the school made them out to be.

At her words, Dumbledore let loose a soft sigh.

“We will do no such thing, Minerva,” he said with a firm shake of his head.

“Then what? We’re just supposed to sit here and wait until Voldemort drops his body off at the school like he did with Cedric, yeah?” Harry asked, feeling his temper rise once more. All around him, the portraits were starting to wake, grunting in irritating voices that only drove him further over the edge.

Dumbledore smiled weakly. “Though I am no doubt touched to see your concern for your Professor, Harry, it is important that we do nothing for now.”

“So-so you think he is safe, then, Albus? Surely if there is no need for intervention, it must mean you know for certain that he is safe?” McGonagall asked quizzically.

“On the contrary. I believe that Severus’ life may be in severe danger as of this moment. But if we are to preserve what little hope there is left to save him, we must do nothing and instead be patient and wait it out.”

“Are you mad? Wait it out? Wait it out?” Harry exploded into a fit yet again, his hands motioning around him with such passion and temper that he himself could not register was he was saying or doing.

“This is not the first time Severus’ life was placed in mortal danger. Though Voldemort has accepted him into his inner circle, he would be a fool to trust a man who spends all of his time dangling in the arms of the enemy. With their recent efforts to conquer the ministry having failed, there is no doubt his suspicions over Severus have grown over a tenfold. But he is also aware of how useful Severus is to him, spy or not. I wouldn’t expect him to kill him, not yet anyway. He is merely testing Severus’ loyalty. He needs assurances that his right-hand man has not betrayed him.”

“But he has! Please, Professor, I saw him-I saw Snape,” Harry managed through shallow breaths. “I saw everything Voldemort did to him…he was hurt badly…we’ve got to find him-we’ve got to find him right now or he’s going to die!”

“Professor Snape is an extremely skilled wizard, and he is highly trained to operate in harsh and difficult circumstances. In all the years I have known him, he has yet to have failed me. Trust in him as I do, Harry, Minerva, and he will return to us.”

The office fell silent as Harry digested Dumbledore’s words. The fists he had balled across his lap slowly uncurled.

“What if he doesn’t? Will you bear the responsibility of what happens if he doesn’t?”

Harry glanced over to McGonagall. She looked distraught as she gazed at Dumbledore, gaunt and frightened.

“You do not understand, Minerva. If it were up to me, I would give all of the men I had at my service to find him and bring him back to us.”

“Then who is it up to?” Harry asked now.

“Severus. It is his request that I remain neutral should anything…unfortunate…happen to him. He has made it explicitly clear, and has made me give my word, that if he were captured…that I would spend no additional lives in an effort to save him. In short, I have given him my word that if he were killed (McGonagall gasped lightly), then I am to do absolutely nothing. And in return of that promise, he has vowed that if his life were threatened in any way, that he would do his absolute best to save himself.”

Harry blinked, staring down at his shoes.

“Do you understand now?” Dumbledore murmured. “I cannot break my promise to him, just as he cannot go back on his. Now, I will permit you both to wait here with me until I receive word of his return, but that is the most I can do.”

Fawkes gave a long and mournful cry as Dumbledore came back to his seat, falling on it as his hands buried themselves over his head. Harry felt his mouth turn dry. He hadn’t expected it to be like this, hadn’t ever considered Snape’s position as a spy. He’d known it was dangerous but he never would have thought it would have been as grim as this. This was Snape, the man that everyone loved to hate and yet, as hard as he tried, it was a difficult thing to do at the moment. As much as Harry had loathed him, he’d never have wanted him dead.

“Let me go back then,” Harry said. Dumbledore’s head lifted to peer at him curiously.

“Go back where, Harry?”

“In his head. Back to where he was. Where Snape was. If I could just focus…if I could just see where –”

“YOU WILL DO NO SUCH THING!” Dumbledore bellowed.

Harry leaned back, startled by the sudden rage in the headmaster tone. But the ferocity had vanished as quickly as it appeared. Dumbledore had stopped mid-track and instead focused all his attention into rushing towards the large window overlooking the castle grounds. Harry followed suit, and just as he reached to look over Dumbledore’s shoulder, he saw a white pulse of light fading away by the edge of the Forbidden Forest.

Dumbledore whipped around quickly, extending a hand out to McGonagall, beckoning her towards the window.

“Didn’t I tell you that he’d come back?” Dumbledore whispered, though Harry suspected it was more of a self-assurance than it was to prove himself right to Harry and McGonagall.

As McGonagall reached the window looking older and tired than ever, Dumbledore placed a hand around her back and pointed to where the light had been visible moments before.

“Listen to me carefully, Minerva,” he said. “Everything that I am about to say to you, you must do exactly in that order. Usually, it is Hagrid who is tasked with such orders but seeing as he is away, we must make do. You will go down to the edge of the Forest and do a light examination, just to make sure he is conscious and breathing. If he is conscious, do not say anything to him except that you are taking him down to the infirmary. If he asks for me, you will tell him that I will only be able to see him in the morning. You will take him to Poppy and leave him there. Is that understood?”

“Yes, yes, Albus,” McGonagall said with a firm nod. Harry got up too, expecting Dumbledore to hold him back.

“I’m going too,” said Harry reluctantly. “I just need to see…if he’s alright.”

“It would be a risk if Voldemort were to pry into Severus’ mind and see you there, Harry.”

“He knows I was there. And if he knows who I am, he knows I’d do everything I could to make sure that Snape was still alive,” Harry argued.

Dumbledore watched him closely as Harry waited there.

“Very well. But I would still advise you to wear your cloak, Harry. And you will heed the exact instructions I have provided to Professor McGonagall. Under no circumstances is Voldemort to know that we have been waiting to ensure his safe arrival. It is crucial, to protect both his life and his position, that we do not show him overbearing kindness or gratitude. Be as impersonal as you can, no matter how worried or concerned you may feel.”

There was simply too much information to process all at once. But there would be enough time for that later, Harry thought. He had to make sure Snape was alive, that was his main priority for now. He left the pace, hurrying back to the dorms with a stitch in place. Harry ran up the stairs, threw open the door and quickly unlocked the trunk under his bed. Retrieving his father’s Invisibility cloak in one hand and reaching for his broom with the other, he jumped to his feet.

“Harry-that you? Are you going to tell me what’s going on? You’ve been gone for ages–”

"I'll tell you later, Ron, I promise. I have to go."

And with that, he made his way down the common room and clambered outside of the portrait. Not wanting to be interrupted by Filch, Harry threw the cloak over himself so he was hidden away as he sprinted towards the castle grounds. As soon as he was out in the open air, he mounted the Firebolt and kicked his heels together.

He flew overhead and spotted McGonagall nearing the edge of the Forest. He was glad he’d decided on the broom because it meant the height could give him a better view of the forest below him. He circled around where he’d seen the burst of light from, lowering a little so his feet grazed the thick branches of trees that protruded out menacingly. When Harry spotted a dark form directly below him, he shot off in McGonagall’s direction. He landed a few steps away, the noise startling her as she whirled to see Harry throw off his cloak and broom aside.

“I’ve seen him, Professor!” he shouted as he cut across her. “Come on, it’s this way!”

Quickly, Harry led McGonagall to where he had seen Snape’s fallen form, hoping against all hope that the man was still alive. As they approached him, Harry stepped back so as to let McGonagall kneel over his body.

“Severus,” she said, shaking him lightly.

When there was no reply, she turned towards Harry.

“Unconscious,” she said. “I’ll have to check for a pulse–”

No sooner than she’d said it, Snape’s arm shot out to grab at her wrist roughly. McGonagall exclaimed at the sudden movement, recovering fairly quickly from the shock as she reached over to push the matted strands of hair that hid away Snape’s face. Harry came closer, looking down at his Potions professor for the second time that night. He was breathing, which was good news in itself because he was obviously alive. His grip on McGonagall remained, and a second later his eyes opened weakly. He stared through them both, staring up at nothing in particular.

“Severus?” McGonagall whispered as she placed a hand over his chest gently. He twitched at the contact but it seemed to jolt him back to reality. As his eyes finally focused on McGonagall, he gave a light groan.

“M-Minerva…” he rasped.

“Yes,” she replied with a watery smile. “It’s Minerva. I’ve come to get you out of here now, Severus. Are you alright? Can you walk?”

Snape’s upper lip trembled, but whether it was out of pain or relief, Harry didn’t know. He made an effort to sit up but fell back in a heap. He shook his head when McGonagall asked if he was alright again, refusing to answer.

“I won’t know if you don’t tell me. And if you don’t tell me, we’re going to be out here all night,” McGonagall chided, tight-lipped.

“It’s my legs,” he breathed after a moment. “Minerva…I can’t feel them.”

McGonagall nodded with understanding. She placed a hand on his knees, rubbing them lightly as if it would help somehow.

“Don’t you worry now, Severus. I’m going to get you up on a stretcher and then I’m taking you to Poppy…she’s going to help you get better.”

It seemed that Dumbledore’s instructions had gone straight out of McGonagall’s head as she reassured the man in front of her. Harry could not blame her, either. He remembered how comforting it had been when Mrs. Weasley had hugged him after Cedric’s death. He’d wanted to die, then, wanted to be gone and no longer in existence but that hug had reminded him what he’d be missing out on. It had given him the strength to hold on, even if it was only temporary. And Dumbledore wasn’t always right, was he? He’d subjected Harry to living under the Dursleys’ abuse for years and had thought that was the right thing to do, hadn’t he? What good had that ever done for Harry?

As Harry stood there, McGonagall waved her hand so that a wooden stretcher was conjured out of air. With Harry’s help, they hoisted Snape’s thin body onto it with ease. Looking over, he saw Snape had fallen back into unconsciousness, with only his fingers twitching about. Harry, picking up his broom and cloak, volunteered to get to infirmary first so Madam Pomfrey would be alerted on Snape and McGonagall’s arrival.

The cloak, once again, proved to be useful as he evaded Filch who’d been waiting by the castle steps for intruders. He had only made it to the infirmary and woke Madam Pomfrey up when McGonagall came in through the door with Snape floating behind her.

“Put him over there by the usual spot,” Madam Pomfrey said, rushing over in her long night gown.

Harry raced to help McGonagall lift Snape off the stretcher and onto the empty bed. No sooner had Snape’s body touched the mattress that he started to writhe and jerk against it uncontrollably. His eyes had blown wide open, teeth bared in a snarl as he hissed out. There were tears trickling down his cheeks as Madam Pomfrey clambered over to hold him down with as much force as she could muster.

“Poppy…” he managed through small breaths. “I can’t…”

“I know, I know,” Pomfrey muttered, rubbing circles over his chest. “Hush, now…it’ll be over in a minute or two…”

Harry and McGonagall watched in horror as the episode went on for several minutes. When the shakes had reduced to minor trembles, Snape broke into soft sobs and Harry looked away.

“There we are now, Severus, we’re alright now. We’re alright, we’re safe. You haven’t been eating like I told you to, have you, you insufferable man?” Pomfrey nagged as Snape’s body finally relaxed, falling back onto the pillows. His eyes closed as a small sigh escaped his lips.

“That’s it,” Pomfrey said, wiping away at the sweat and tears that stained his face. “You just rest now. Sleep it off.”

“Poppy,” McGonagall asked in a terrified voice. “Is he alright?”

“He will be…Merlin knows a couple hours of sleep will do him some good.”

“Is he-is he sick? That wasn’t normal, was it, what we just saw?” Harry asked.

Pomfrey stared at him, as if just registering his presence at the hospital wing at this hour.

“Like I said, Mr. Potter, he’ll be fine. Just a little side effect of the Cruciatus…this one wasn’t so bad. Couple of weeks back I’d had to charm the bed to restrain him against himself – else, he would’ve clawed his own two eyes out from the way he was seizing up!” the matron replied bitterly. “This one wasn’t too bad at all. I expect he’ll be good as new in a day or two. Does Dumbledore know?”

“I think he said he’ll be over in the morning.”

“As expected,” said Madam Pomfrey before pointing a finger at Harry. “Mr. Potter, care to explain what you’re going out here at this hour?”

“It’s fine, Poppy. He’s with me. Well, if there’s nothing else to be done here…Potter, you’ll come with me – it’s time we both got some shut eye after all of this.”

“W-we’re just leaving him here, Professor?” Harry asked, his eyes trained on Snape’s unmoving figure.

"I can assure you, I am a highly skilled Healer, Mr. Potter," Madam Pomfrey said, looking rather affronted at Harry's accusatory tone. “Professor Snape is in excellent hands.”

Harry nodded, embarrassed at his little outburst.

“Sorry,” he said.

“It’s no matter. Now, I think it’s time you got ready for bed. Run along now. Minerva, you’ll make sure he’ll go straight back to his dorm?”

McGonagall nodded.

Madam Pomfrey left the two of them then, busying herself with removing Snape’s shoes and robes.

“He’ll be alright, Potter,” McGonagall said as though she’d read his mind just then. She placed a warm hand over Harry’s shoulder as he gave her a nod.

He hoped that she was right, and that Snape would be fine.

Chapter Text

Severus awoke early, much to Poppy's annoyance. He had made a harmless comment about heading down to the Great Hall for breakfast which had decidedly set her off into an hour long lecture about how he had just narrowly escaped death (she was being dramatic) and that no, he wasn't allowed to leave the hospital wing for another day at least. He'd only been joking when he'd suggested about leaving. Frankly speaking, he was so exhausted he'd happily spend another week or two-not that he'd ever tell her that.

It hadn't always been like this, he thought embitteredly. This was old age catching up to him, his body warning him that it had been pulled apart and stretched to its limit. Not that he could do anything about it, though. The Dark Lord's foul temper was becoming increasingly so these past few weeks and Severus' own blunders had little to do with them. The Dark Lord was failing and he knew it. He'd been trying to retrieve the prophecy for a while now and was nowhere close to it, which certainly explained his furiousness with his men and women these days. There were also the new recruits who were quite openly questioning the Dark Lord's powers, relating his failures to his inability to be a good leader. The older Death Eaters were much wiser, of course, for they'd learned early on to keep hold their tongues from ever speaking of their master in such a way. But these younger ones, some who'd only just left school, had joined for the sole purpose of boasting to others of their status. It had never been their intention to sell their loyalty to the Dark Lord and much too arrogant to serve the Dark Lord's commands. Some of them tried to abandon the sinking ship, realizing quickly that they'd either die in the hands of the Dark Lord or the Aurors who captured them; but they were often unsuccessful. If any of them did manage to get away, it was only a matter of time before death caught up to them.

"Are you leaving, then?" Poppy called out from her office. He could hear how vexed she was, and knew she'd probably been nagging to herself the entire time.

"No...I think all that shouting from you has got me all worn down," he yelled back. There was a pause and he smiled smugly when she appeared at the doorway, arms crossed in an annoyed fashion.

There was a cluttering noise and as he stared, a floating tray came into view from behind her and made its way towards him. There was a glass of orange juice and three neatly stacked pieces of toast on it. Severus gazed at it sickeningly.

"I'm not hungry," he muttered, his hands going to lay over his stomach.

"You said you wanted breakfast," Poppy chided. "And since you're all worn out, I thought you could just eat here. Or was all that noise you made about wanting breakfast downstairs just an excuse to run away?"

Severus scowled as the tray began to bump against him continuously, not stopping until he'd reached to pick a slice of the toast. He turned the toast over in his hand, muttering something unintelligible under his breath so Poppy couldn't hear him.

"Sorry, Severus, did you say something?" Poppy asked sharply, leaning in close to stare at him.

"Thank you for the toast, Poppy."

At that, Poppy straightened up with a cheery smile. "That's a good boy, now. You rest up and in the evening, I'll see if you're well enough to go back to that dungeon of yours."

Defeated, Severus took a bite of the toast. When Poppy clicked her tongue and turned back to her office, he placed the remains of the toast back onto the tray and slumped back against the soft pillows lined up behind him. The sheets were so cool and comfortable that he couldn't help but close his eyes, sighing. He uttered a little prayer of thanks to no one in particular, grateful that he'd somehow made it back to Hogwarts in one piece once more. His thoughts drifted back to the previous night and felt his body shudder lightly at the memory. He'd thought last night would've been his last, and he had made his peace with that. But the Dark Lord had chosen to show mercy once more. Or rather, he'd been reprieved from his own quick-thinking. He raised his left hand, examining the loops of dressing that covered it now.

Last night, he'd made his peace with death. He'd accepted it and remembered the instantaneous relief that had come together with that. He was alive, now, and filled with relief, sure-but that didn't stop him from thinking about what would've happened if he hadn't made it. If he'd died, he'd have been free from everything...his ties with the Dark Lord...to Dumbledore...to everyone else who'd died because of him...

"Severus," said a familiar voice. "I hope I'm not interrupting?"

When Severus looked up, he found Dumbledore staring down at him with a sad expression.

"No, of course not, Headmaster," he replied, embarrassed to have been discovered in such a vulnerable state. He quickly propped himself up against the pillows Poppy had attempted to drown him with the previous night.

Dumbledore pulled up a chair, sitting next to Severus' bed. Though he was seated, he still towered over Severus, making the younger man feel small and timid. Dumbledore seemed to take a moment to hover of Severus, eyes moving from his face to the bandaged arm before he finally spoke.

"Forgive me," Dumbledore started. "I would have visited sooner but I had to be sure that any spell Voldemort placed on you had worn away...the last time, he didn't take too kindly to how I stayed by your side the entire night when you first returned from-"

"-it's fine, Headmaster," Severus replied, cutting across him. "You needn't explain yourself, certainly not to me at least. You made sure I was safe and unharmed...which is more than I could ever hope for."

His words were framed so terribly awkward that it gave Dumbledore momentary pause. Severus hated the way the old man stared at him, a mixture of sorrow and pity crossing his lined face. He resented being so weak like this, especially in front of Dumbledore.

"But you were unharmed, were you?" Dumbledore asked, looking away from Severus. "Will you tell me what happened last night?"

"The same as always," Severus replied with a light shrug of his shoulders. "His plan to retrieve the prophecy failed again. Though he was more angry about the fact I'd failed to warn him that you'd be placing Moody on guard last night...that derailed the Dark Lord's plans completely. He'd been under the assumption that Ministry workers would be there instead...he'd sent some of his newer recruits and they stood no chance at all against Mad-Eye Moody..."

Severus was careful of the words he selected now. If he misspoke even a little, Dumbledore would think he was blaming him.

"I must apologize for that mishap, of course," Dumbledore said. "The ministry was supposed to be in charge of the situation for that night but Cornelius thought it'd be a good idea to change plans at the last minute. Withdrew his men with the excuse that they were needed in places that actually needed protecting...I had no choice but to defer back to the Order and Alastor was the only one available. By the time I'd sent the letter informing you of the change, you'd already left the school..."

"Why did you go to Fudge? You know what he's been doing all summer...he's started an entire campaign against you behind your back and still you place your trust in him?" Severus asked sharply.

"I admit...I am a fool for thinking he could be convinced...I've also been preoccupied with other matters...and my distractions almost resulted in your death. My carelessness is one I will never forgive myself for, I hope you know that, Severus."

"You say you've been preoccupied-what with?"

Dumbledore smiled, reaching over to pat Severus' knee.

"Matters of the future," came his reply, "but all the same, I am sorry for my foolishness. You have suffered, when it should have been my price to pay."

"Save your sympathy, Dumbledore! I was not the only one to suffer his wrath...the two Death Eaters he sent were killed the moment they went to him! They were still young...barely my age when I started working here..."

"Their deaths is not on you, Severus," Dumbledore said firmly.

Severus did not respond to him.

"Did he question you about anything other than that?"

There was a nod from him.

"What else?"

"There was the question of my loyalty," Severus whispered.

There was no point in hiding anything from Dumbledore. The man knew everything that was to be known about Severus. He was the only person Severus could trust.

"Oh? And I expect you gave him ample proof that you were?"

Severus sighed, reaching over to push the strands of hair that hung over his face.

"Yes," he said quietly. "But I almost didn't."

Dumbledore urged him to continue, watching him curiously.

"There was a moment...when I thought he was going to kill me...I wanted to confess..."

"Confess?"

"The truth."

"The truth?"

"Yes," said Severus. "I wanted to tell him the truth. About everything."

"And what is the truth about everything?"

"That I didn't belong to him, that I wasn't his. I wanted to tell him that it was you I'd given my loyalty to, that it was for your cause I would die for...not his..."

"Severus..."

Dumbledore's voice was soft, and Severus turned away so that he could not see the tears in the other man's eyes.

"Sometimes...sometimes, I think I am too tired to do all this anymore, Dumbledore. When I gave you my word, all those years ago, I never thought I'd have lived through it all...never thought I'd ever find a way to make up for all the wrongs I'd done. And Merlin knows I still have a long way before I ever fix all that I've ruined but with the Order, I feel as though I finally belong somewhere. And every time I go back there, to the Dark Lord, I feel that part of me disappear. It just vanishes until I'm someone else, someone that is not me..."

"I do not understand what you are asking of me, Severus."

"I am asking that you allow me to fight, Dumbledore. Not as a spy or a servant of the Dark Lord but as a man to a cause he believes in. Let me put myself out there with everyone else, allow me to stand against everything the Dark Lord believes in because heaven knows he is wrong about it all. I am asking you let me shed myself of all of this pretending...of this farce...have I not redeemed myself enough, Headmaster? Have I not proven myself time and time again that you can trust me? That I am your man, through and through?"

Severus did not know where all this was rushing out from him or why it was, just that he couldn't stop until he'd gotten it all out. There was nothing untrue about all that he'd said. He was beyond drained by all that he was doing now. It wasn't as though he'd gotten frightened all of a sudden and was demanding he be set loose. He didn't care if he lived or died, not after he'd gotten Lily Potter and her husband killed, and a countless others alongside them. But there was another part of him that couldn't stand to be this other person. He wanted to be good, he wanted to be someone Lily would have accepted. Forgiven, even.

When Dumbledore looked back at him, his face was streaked with tears that were trickling from his crooked nose to his beard. Severus shifted his gaze to the wall opposite him so he didn't have to look at Dumbledore. The older man was silent for a long time, with each second Severus feeling regret over his impulsive admission.

"When I first saw you on that hilltop, I admit I had every intention to kill you-or at the very least, have you captured and sent to Azkaban. It was you, after all, that had been the reason why an innocent family had to go away into hiding lest they be murdered by Lord Voldemort? Yes, I would have killed you..."

Severus seemed to shrink into himself. 

"But then you did something I hadn't expected of you. You told me to save the very woman you'd endangered. At the time, I didn't understand, of course. I had thought you were doing it out of selfishness and greed...that you wanted Lily Potter safe because you wanted her. So I pushed you. I pushed and pushed until you told me to save not only her, but her husband and child-both of whom you'd despised. In that hilltop, I watched you battle your own demons, fighting your own evil to save the woman you loved. I saw a man there that day, and an impressive one at that-in a matter of seconds, you battled and conquered all of your demons to save a girl who neither loved nor cared for you. When you told me you would do anything to keep her safe, I knew then that you were not the man I'd painted you to be. You were nothing like Voldemort. You could feel love, and it was that very same love that had led you to make a choice that night on the hilltop. The right choice."

When Severus said nothing else, Dumbledore continued.

"You have no idea how long I have wished to free you from your position. For years, I have envisioned the day I tell you there is no need to answer his summons...that you remain by my side when he calls. But for years, I have put that off because of my own selfishness. For if I am to set you free, Severus, then we shall never see the end of this war. And for that, for the greater good, Severus, I must ask that you remain here as a spy and nothing else."

"The-the greater good?"

"Yes, Severus, the greater good. It is the path not many are shown, and one not many can take. Not without sacrificing themselves, at least. Harry is the same (Severus frowned). You two are more alike than you'd care to admit but that is the truth! Do you know how many times I have wanted to snatch him away from his aunt and uncle and raise him myself? Yet, I restrained myself because there is a bigger path for the boy to follow...and follow he must if he wishes to ever stop Voldemort. You and him and me and everyone else must keep to this path, no matter how much we wish to break from it...only then can we ever win. And that, Severus, is what the greater good is all about. Persevering in hardships, suffering where sufferance is due...paying the price when it is required of you...only then can good every truly win."

"I figured you'd say something like that," Severus retorted with a snort, "you and your grandiose ideas of the world."

Dumbledore chuckled lightly.

"I take it with your being alive here that you didn't confess?"

Severus grimaced. "Didn't think you'd take too lightly about me leaving my position without asking you first. Figured you'd need me a little longer. It's important we keep to the plan, isn't that what you always say? Stick to the plan, keep Potter safe and eventually we will be victorious?"

"Nothing as dramatic as that but yes, I suppose, you're right..."

They sat there comfortably allowing the silence to swallow them up in the room. Outside, Severus could hear the students running and screaming about the courtyard which was oddly comforting to him now.

"So how did you convince him? About your loyalty?"

There was a moment where Severus hesitated. And then, he brought his left arm towards Dumbledore. He tugged on the bandages so it unraveled with ease, falling off to reveal an ugly, red mark on his forearm.

"I told him if he doubted my loyalty, he could mark me again," Severus replied bitterly, eyeing the deep cuts of the new Dark Mark over the older mark. 

"Severus, I-"

"I don't want your pity, Dumbledore," said Severus angrily. "You just make sure that after all of this, you win this war for us."

"And on that note, I shall excuse myself- I still have to have a word with Harry-"

"-Potter? What's he done now?"

"Nothing that concerns you, Severus. Oh, Minerva said she'd be dropping by later-she's gone down to Hogsmeade to get us drinks-"

"What are we celebrating? There wasn't a match today, was there?"

"No match today," Dumbledore said. "She's just glad you made it back alright last night..."

Severus groaned. He'd forgotten that she'd been the one to have gotten him here to the hospital wing.

"Your survival means everything to us, I hope you know that."

He didn't say anything in response to that. After Dumbledore left, Severus settled back against the sheets. He had just closed his eyes when-

"SEVERUS TOBIAS SNAPE, WHAT HAVE YOU DONE TO YOUR ARM?"

He almost fell off as Poppy rushed at him in full force, tugging his exposed arm towards her and hastily covered them in new bandages.

"Calm down, Poppy, I was just showing Dumbledore-"

"Oh, mark my words, I'll be having a word or two with him as well."

Severus groaned as Poppy descended into another one of her tantrums. As he listened to her threats, he felt an odd urge to smile and for the second time that day, was glad that he had made it back home.

Chapter Text

Monday morning found most of the fifth-years in the Great Hall, their breakfast lay untouched as they slumped over their thick Defense Against Dark Arts textbooks. Even the younger students resorted to chewing their food silently while they watched their seniors scribble furiously over scraps of parchment. On the Gryffindor table, Harry and Ron stared sullenly as Hermione continued to write pages upon pages of words in a hurried state. Every few seconds, Neville whimpered and placed his hand over his head in defeat before scurrying over to look over Hermione's bushy hair to try and see what she was writing. 

"Hermione," Ron began hesitantly, and Hermione's head snapped in his direction while her hands continued to move at an unbelievable pace.

"What?"

"D'you think you're nearly done? I think you've written about a hundred pages already," he continued with a sunken expression. Harry had to agree, here they were expecting to copy off of Hermione but it would be impossible to finish it all before their class started.

"How is that my fault? She's absolutely vile, that witch! Setting us up with an insane amount of homework each week-what does she think she's playing at?"

Harry had never heard Hermione swear at a teacher except for Trelawney and found that it cheered him a little. He knew why Umbridge was giving them the homework, it was to keep them busy so they wouldn't have time to off and 'play hero' as she had so aptly told him during detention last week. It was one thing to assign him punishments for speaking up against her, but to punish the entire year seemed just a little too excessive. He wondered why Dumbledore hadn't said anything yet, but part of him suspected that the headmaster no longer had power to interfere with the old toad or the Ministry-not after how he defended Harry for speaking up about Voldemort's return.

"At least we won't have Potions today, wasn't Snape going to set us a test or something?" Ron interjected, attempting to calm a frazzled Hermione.

"Yeah, Dumbledore said Pomfrey wasn't going to let him leave for a week at least," added Harry.

"Still, it seems a little excessive, don't you think? Didn't she re-grow Harry's bones in a single night?" Hermione asked, dotting the final word of her essay and closing her book shut.

"You're just saying that because you actually want to sit for the test, Hermione," Ron argued.

"Well what if I am? Unlike you, I actually studied!"

"I would have-but I had Quidditch practice-"

"-that's exactly the problem, isn't it, Ronald? If you could just stop thinking about Quidditch and try to-"

"Will you both shut up? Look!" Harry cried out in dismay, his heart sinking in his chest as Ron and Hermione followed his gaze to the High Table. Ron let out a horrified "oh no" as his gaze fixated on Snape's figure who had just walked in and sat at the table. Harry noticed how he looked normal; ever-the same thin and sallow-faced man, with his signature curled smile plastered across his face. None of the other students had seen what Harry had, though. They hadn't seen Snape on his knees being forced to spell out his loyalty to Voldemort, hadn't seen him beg McGonagall to help him because he couldn't walk in the aftermath of his meeting.

"You've done it now, Hermione," Ron groaned as he reached for Hermione's homework before she slapped his hand away.

"Me?" she exclaimed, "what did I do?!"

"You went and jinxed it and now we've got Snape later!"

As Ron and Hermione continued to bicker, Harry watched as Snape leaned in to whisper something to McGonagall who shook her head at him. As though he had sensed Harry's eyes on him, Snape turned and the pair of black eyes focused in on Harry's own. Alarmed at being caught, Harry shifted his gaze to Hermione who had fallen silent.

"He's coming over!" she hissed under her breath as Ron wrenched Hermione's essay from her.

Harry's stomach lurched as he heard Snape's footfalls approaching him in quick strides. He was aware that the man was standing behind him, but Harry did not want to say anything. He'd let Snape speak first.

"Potter," he called softly. It wasn't venomous as it usually was, and there was a strained exhaustion in his tone. Slowly, Harry turned with a grimace.

"Yeah?"

Snape's lip turned to an unattractive sneer now, and Harry mentally prepared himself for the jabs that would follow.

"Tell me, Potter, who do you think I am?"

"You teach Potions."

"And so what does that make me?"

"Er-a professor?"

Harry could hear snickering coming from the Slytherin table, and knew it had to be Malfoy or one of his overly-large goons.

"Then you will treat me as such, Potter. The next time you talk to me, you will address me-either as 'Professor' or 'sir', is that understood?"

"Yes. Sir," Harry added with clenched teeth. It was unnerving to see this man standing before him, insulting Harry as though it was second nature to him when only days ago he had been on the brink of near-death. Harry began to lose any feelings of sympathy for the man as the minutes ticked on by. It appeared Snape was back to his usual, cruel self once more.

"Our...remedial Potions lesson, you haven't forgotten about those have you?"

Great, Harry thought, he had forgotten all about Occlumency lessons after everything that had happened.

"No, sir, I haven't."

"Good. You will see me in my office at five o'clock this evening. I have other matters and will have to hold it earlier, I hope that doesn't inconvenience you in any way?" Snape asked sarcastically.

"We've got practice at five!" Ron argued, turning around to face Snape and Harry wished he hadn't tried to help.

"I don't see what you're so concerned about, Weasley. It appears no amount of practice will be able to keep you from falling off your broom every few seconds," Snape said dryly, eyeing Ron dirtily.

Ron opened his mouth but Harry slammed a fist onto the other boy's lap and he quieted at once. Snape watched the two of them triumphantly, as though daring for them to say anything.

"Professor, are you going to give us a test later?" Hermione asked and Harry let out an inward groan.

Snape's eyes moved to Hermione's face as he regarded her impatiently, tight-lipped.

"Are you trying to dictate how I run my class, Miss Granger?"

"What? No, I meant-"

"-five points from Gryffindor, I think should do quite nicely. Potter, five o'clock this evening. Do not be late."

And with that, he turned and walked towards the fifth years on the other side of the hall. Harry watched, his hatred for Snape suddenly magnified after their interaction, as the git bent over to look at Malfoy's DADA textbook. He said something unkind and the rest of the Slytherins broke into jeers.

"Bastard," Ron mumbled.

Hermione blinked away the tears that had formed in her eyes.

"You alright, Hermione?" Harry asked and she nodded.

"You two better finish up your essays. We've got less than an hour to go before Umbridge's class-you don't want to be caught in detention and miss Snape's Occlumency lesson," she mumbled.

"I'd rather have my skin torn up than go, if I'm being honest," Harry replied glumly.

"You have to, Harry!"

"I know, I know! It's just-what if Snape looks in my head and he sees that I saw what happened last Friday?"

"But you're getting good at it, aren't you? You told me you could block Snape off really well, Harry!"

"I am," Harry lied, "I'm just worried the memory might come through or something..."

"If it does, which I know it won't, then just tell him, Harry."

"Yeah, and he'll just kill me. Come on, Hermione, he'll make everything worse than it is and then I'll have to go to Dumbledore-"

"And Dumbledore will tell him off. The point is you have to go. It's to help, you know..."

"I reckon Harry knows that, Hermione. Look here-you've explained about the Magical Creatures Act for two whole pages-d'you think I could trim some of this off?"

And just like that, Hermione stopped talking about Occlumency and launched into helping Ron with Umbridge's homework. Harry decided that he'd handle whatever came with Snape later, and if it did come to it, he'd just go to Dumbledore and ask if the lessons could be stopped for both their sakes. Somewhat pleased with himself, Harry turned his attention back to his half-finished essay and began to write.

------------------------------------------------

Double potions had been awful. As Harry descended the stairs and entered the dungeons for the second time, he swore under his breath. As usual, Snape had tried to mock Harry's potions-making spell and tried to sabotage it while he'd been in the middle of making it. When Harry had tried to turn it in, Snape told him that the Ministry ought to come up with a grade worse than Troll made specifically for Harry. When Harry argued that they should start hiring better Professors, the other man had assigned him with detention for the next two weekends knowing full well that Harry would miss two Quidditch practices in a row. As Harry knocked on Snape's door, he wondered if he'd be thrown off the team if he continued to get into trouble with Snape and Umbridge.

"Come in, Potter."

An unexplainable feeling of dread ran through him as he walked into the dimly-lit and cold office, and he stared disgustedly at the jars of pickled things on the shelf behind Snape.

"Do you have anything to say about your behavior in class earlier, Potter?" Snape reprimanded, whipping his wand out in the air threateningly.

"No, I don't, sir," Harry replied defiantly.

Snape watched him curiously for a moment, his fingers twitching slightly as his grip on the wand tightened. And then he turned around, and performed his usual act of drawing out memories and placing them into Dumbledore's pensive. He seemed to be taking much longer than usual, and a part of Harry was curious to know what it was the other man seemed so intent on hiding away from him. Snape faced Harry once more, approaching him cautiously-his eyes darting between Harry's face and the wand in his hand.

"So, Potter, have you been practicing?"

"I have, yeah."

Snape snorted.

"You cannot lie very well, can you, Potter? Makes you a rather poor candidate for something as complex as Occlumency. However, Dumbledore believes it is essential that the wonder-boy is equipped with this ability and my respect for him overtakes my lack of confidence in you unfortunately. That means I will have to resort to extraordinary measures if it comes down to it, is that clear, Potter?"

Harry nodded, his breath hitching in his chest. Extraordinary measures? What on earth did he mean?

"Good. Now, how are you going to try and stop me this time, Potter?"

"Er...."

"Forgive me for asking-heaven knows you love to be spontaneous, isn't that right? Is that what you will do, Potter, when the Dark Lord invades your mind? You will jump to action with no preparation or mastery for the skill? How long do you think you can live on luck alone?"

Snape wasn't yelling, but he was whispering softly-and this frightened Harry. There was a sense of urgency in his words, as though Voldemort was waiting outside of Snape's office right now.

"Tell me then!" he said, stepping forwards to face Snape.

"I have, Potter. What do you think I have been trying to do for months now? You must clear your mind from your emotions, you must have extreme control over them-rather than wear them on your sleeve and show the world your weaknesses!"

'Like how you controlled your thoughts when Voldemort used Legilimency on you?' Harry wanted to ask but restrained himself in time.

"I'm trying-if you could just stop-"

"I knew I was wasting my breath on you! I told Dumbledore-do you know what he thinks, Potter? He thinks that you are powerful-more so than the Dark Lord himself, which is why he believes you can do this. And yet you show me everyday you are incapable as you give in to your anger!"

Harry glowered at Snape, he had not realized it but he had raised a fist towards Snape-just another step and he could strike the other man down.

"Close your eyes, Potter. Drain all that emotion out of you. When I attack, you will try to resist-use any spell or charm or anything that can stop me from accessing your memories. One...two...three...Legilimens!"

Harry exclaimed as he felt a presence in his mind, could see Snape's shadowy figure in the back of his head as memories began to pour out of him. 

He was six, and Petunia Dursley had shoved him into a chair as she attempted to shave all of his hair off. And then he was being cornered by Dudley and his friends at the playground, they were pointing and laughing as they shoved him around. Hermione had thrown her arm around him and Ron as they began to walk towards the common room. Cedric's face was visible in the darkened glow of the graveyard, his eyes staring up at him with no life left in them. 

Harry was losing control quickly, and the more he tried to repress one particular memory, the more Snape pushed into opening it. Don't, Harry begged, don't do it. But he was helpless, as Snape had said-there was no way he could master Occlumency, not when his head was being forced open like this. He whispered 'no' in horror as more images burst into view. Voldemort dragged Snape by the hair and laughed, McGonagall assuring a half-conscious Snape that he was going to be okay, Madam Pomfrey holding him down as Snape seized up under her.

And then they were back in Snape's office, with Harry fallen to his knees. Harry remained there, panting and far too afraid to look up at Snape. He stared at Snape's boots for a whole minute, thinking of all the ways this could possibly end. Harry found himself wishing that he had been serving detention with Umbridge, that would have been less awful than to explain his memories to Snape.

"Potter," Snape called, and Harry heard the tremble in his voice. He looked up to see Snape standing, white-faced and furious.

"Get up!" he shouted. 

Harry jumped to his feet, his heart pounding against his chest.

"What was that memory, Potter?"

"My aunt was trying-"

"Don't," Snape interrupted, "don't play games with me. Did Dumbledore show you that?"

"No, no he didn't."

"Then how, Potter, do you have a memory of me?"

"I..." 

Harry paused. What on earth could he possibly tell the man at this point? It was very clear he had figured it out, he knew that Harry had once again purposely wandered into Voldemort's thoughts.

"I was right, wasn't I? You think this connection with the Dark Lord makes you special, don't you?"

Harry shook his head.

"So why, Potter?" Snape whispered menacingly.

"W-why?"

"Why do you keep doing it? Why do you intrude on memories that you have no right to intrude upon? Why do you continue to put your life-and everyone else's-at risk? Do you think the rest of us are nothing but pawns you can use and dispose of when you no longer have use for them? Is all of this a joke to you?"

"Of course not! It's not like I could control it-it just happened!"

"You should have stopped it the minute it happened, then! Wasn't that the point of wasting my evenings teaching you, Potter?"

"Why do you do it, then? Why do you pretend that you care what happens to me? Just tell Dumbledore you can't help-why do you keep doing it?"

Snape's face flushed, and his mouth sprang open in surprise.

"You-don't-you don't realize, do you Potter?"

"Realize what?"

"You're the only one that can stop him," Snape's voice had dropped to a hushed whisper once more, "for some reason Dumbledore has decided that you are the only who can put an end to the Dark Lord' reign-as ridiculous as it sounds. That means you must be protected...and kept safe."

Snape looked as though he had wanted to say more but he stopped himself before he could do so. Harry looked away, embarrassed.

"What else did you see, Potter?"

"Just that," he lied once more, hoping Snape would believe him. Snape did not say anything, perhaps the other man feared the truth more so than Harry himself.

"You've worn me out, Potter, with your ineptitude. Leave," Snape commanded suddenly, pointing at the door.

"What? But it's not even been an hour-" Harry protested, not knowing why. If anything, he should be grateful that Snape was giving him the way out.

"I don't care, Potter. Get out, and don't come back here until you've learned to clear your mind. I've had enough with foolish children wasting what precious time I have-that means no lessons this Wednesday either! I find I tire of looking at your face, Potter."

Harry could see the exhaustion in the other man now, in the way he stood and spoke. He looked positively drained and shaken, perhaps he had yet to fully recover from the previous incident.

"Yes, sir," Harry mumbled, brushing past Snape on his way out. As he looked back, he saw that Snape remained standing in the same position, staring down at where Harry had stood silently.

Chapter Text

As Severus violently burst through the headmaster's door, giving as ferocious an expression as he could, he thought he heard a small sigh escape Dumbledore's lips. The man put down the the copy of the Quibbler, leaned back against his chair before ushering Severus to sit. Severus, however, seemed intent on unleashing his rage at least a little before sitting down for a "calm" discussion (or whatever it was the old hoot called it these days). He remained standing, arms crossed, looking down at Dumbledore.

"I thought you'd at least wait until your lesson was over before you barged in here," Dumbledore said. Severus scowled.

"So...so," he said fuming, "so...you knew."

Dumbledore's controlled face gave way for an accidental smile, his lips twitching in amusement.

"You-this isn't funny, Dumbledore!"

"Of course I knew, Severus! The boy told me, naturally."

"When? When did he see that-?"

"Take a seat, Severus, and I will explain everything."

"I find myself more comfortable standing, thanks."

Dumbledore gave another sigh and shook his head, staring up at the thin, anguished face.

"I have just had a most exhaustive day at the Ministry-trying to convince our dear old Fudge that it is crucial I remain here as Headmaster of the school has taken a year or two off of my life span, Severus. Not to mention the energy it took me to convince Minerva not to send Dolores Umbridge 'flying to the moon' as she so politely put. I simply am not in the mood to tolerate anymore of your childish tantrums for today, I'm afraid."

Severus opened his mouth as though to protest but decided against it. He glanced at the older man and saw how weary Dumbledore looked now, it was clear from the bags under his eyes that he had not been sleeping for quite a few nights. Severus made a mental note to start sending him some Anti-Restlessness potion before pulling on the chair opposite the headmaster's table. Dumbledore looked relieved that there wouldn't be a fight-not today, anyways.

"The Ministry wants to sack you?" he asked incredulously.

"They believe I have outlived my usefulness. They look at me now and see a threat, one that might attempt to overtake Fudge's own place as Minister. Though I suspect he may not last there for long himself either...he was only elected under my own recommendation after all, many are questioning his abilities as much as they are my own."

Severus huffed in response, and Dumbledore's amusement returned to his face. Both of them remembered the past year's incident when Severus had openly revealed his Dark Mark to the Minister to try and prove to the idiot of the Dark Lord's return. What came in response was a heavily worded letter to Dumbledore asking that he place Severus under immediate suspension and when that had failed, had set Umbridge on his heels. Severus had ended this weaselly attempt at getting him thrown out by asking Lucius' help. Upon getting the idea that Lucius very much placed high faith in Severus, Umbridge had been forced to pull away from him and focus on ridding of the other powerless professors instead.

"I think we'd do better without that fool in the Ministry regardless."

The headmaster gave a small chuckle as the younger of two snorted in dismissal of the conversation.

"Now, now, Severus, let's not be unkind."

Severus straightened himself in the seat, signaling for the start of a new topic; it was one that Dumbledore clearly was uncomfortable to have.

"So, you want to know how Harry came to have that memory in his head," Dumbledore began slowly.

"No, I know how he does-he practically confessed when I...asked him," Severus replied, a little hesitant.

"What did you do with him, Severus?" he asked rather tiredly.

"Don't change the subject, Dumbledore."

Dumbledore's eyes twinkled then, he reached over to draw out a giant bowl of his favorite muggle sweets. He seemed to take pride in wasting Severus' time, knowing full well the man would only refuse. 

"Sherbet lemon?" Dumbledore asked anyway, meeting a particularly icy glare from the exasperated man opposite him. Unaffected by this, Dumbledore proceeded to unwrap the sweet, taking the moment to savor its taste before finally speaking on the subject of Harry Potter.

"It is evident that Harry has been spending far too much time in his own mind that he has started to wander a little too far...Occlumency does not seem to be helping him either. I recall you mentioning that he is rather...weak...at burying his memories."

"Weak isn't the word I'd use. He is an amateur, and does not listen to what I have to say."

"Why do you think that is?"

"Spite, perhaps. And his father's arrogance passed down to him, no doubt. Black's influence may also have played a part in his determination to make these lessons fail. I sincerely believe the foolish boy thinks that this connection with the Dark Lord can be used to help people...he does not realize the deeper danger it poses. I suspect it's his savior complex that's drowning out this particular logic," Severus responded ill-manneredly.

"It is the same logic that helped to save you, if I recall correctly."

Severus flushed now, a red tinge sweeping across his cheeks. It was instantly replaced with his usual scowl.

"He didn't save me!" Severus snarled, "I had already made it back here myself! All he did was put his own life in danger-and my own."

"Do not judge the boy so harshly, Severus. Yes, he may not have directly saved you that night but his intentions were clear as he stood here, demanding that I send out a rescue for you."

"Intentions! What good can come from that?"

"Intention is everything, Severus. You are discarding what is right in front of you, and I do not know if it is hatred that is blinding you or perhaps your own ignorance."

"What the hell are you talking about?" Severus swore, bringing his fist down on the wooden desk with a hardened slam. Fawkes squawked in surprise at the sound but Dumbledore barely gave a flinch at the sudden aggression.

"I see...it is clear now. You are so consumed by your own hatred for the boy's father that you have allowed it to muddy your thoughts."

"If you're not going to tell me-"

"Don't you see, Severus? The boy cares! No matter how much you think he hates you, he still cares that you are alive-that you make it back home safe. Why do you think that is the case?"

Severus blinked at the headmaster, having lost his thoughts to Dumbledore's shift in tone. He had spoken with the same coldness and harshness all those years ago when Severus had approached him to save Lily Potter.

"W-what?" he asked quietly, casting his gaze anywhere other than Dumbledore's eyes.

"Harry is James Potter's son, yes, but he is also Lily Evan's. Tell me, Severus, where might Harry's unselfish love and care come from? From his father? Or from Lily Evans? Didn't she show you at such a young age what love meant, Severus?"

"Don't...Dumbledore..."

"Harry's goodness comes from his mother! He has seen her sacrifice for her own son, and like her, he is determined to love as ferociously as she had. That, Severus, is why the night he saw you on the brink of death did he race to my office and beg for me to save you. Even when I told him it wouldn't be possible to do anything, he fought against my judgement. He wanted to save you not because he is arrogant or he has a savior complex, but it is because he has seen the worth of a life-of your life. He might not admit it but he knows everything you do outside of teaching is to help us win this war, and so he cares. Despite all that hatred you think he might have for you, he stood up against me to ensure your life was saved."

The office was quiet, save for Severus' shallow breathing. As he raised his head, he looked miserable. It was as though his inner demons were raging war within him, trying to fight and claw their way out of him. He spluttered, his bitterness spilling out of him uncontrollably. 

"What-what else do you ask of me, Dumbledore? I have already given my word to protect him...what else do you expect from me? Do you think this will change how I see him? That you might finally fulfil some strange fantasy of making me into a good man?"

"There is nothing else I could possibly ask from you, Severus. You have given me everything and more. I just want you to see this boy how everyone else sees him. He is his father's son but he is also his mother's. You are always so determined to find the man you despise in Harry, but have you ever thought to look for her? For Lily?"

Severus stood up abruptly. He knocked the bowl of sweets over and stormed towards the door as Dumbledore watched warily. Severus' hand rested on the door momentarily, as he glanced back at the headmaster.

"You don't know what it's been like..." he whispered hoarsely.

"Don't know what, Severus?"

Severus hesitated, and then;

"Nothing. Have the boy come by my office on Wednesday. I do not think these lessons will benefit him but I will do as you ask."

And with that, he left. Upon his leave, Fawkes flew to perch on Dumbledore's arm and gave him a playful nib. Dumbledore popped another sweet into his mouth and stared at where Severus had stood by the door.

"He's difficult, but he has always come around, hasn't he?"

Chapter Text

Harry was running late but he doubted Snape would treat him any less harsher had he been on time anyway. Pushing back the slipping glasses back onto the bridge of his nose, he took a deep breath before rapping on the door twice. A part of him hoped the man hadn't heard and that he'd be able to double back to the common room just in time to join Ron for another game of chess, but as usual it appeared that fate had different plans for him. His heart sunk as the heavy wooden door gave a loud creak and a soft voice from inside urged him to come in. Sighing in frustration for the endless torment he'd have to endure over what happened the other day, Harry stepped into to the cold office room. Snape sat at his desk, his pen scratching out the parchment in bright red ink. He'd done it so hard that some of the ink had splashed out on his skin, streaking over his face and reminding Harry eerily of the night he'd found him at the Forest.

"Sit down, Potter."

Harry hadn't heard him the first time, his eyes had been too focused on the red stain on Snape's left cheek. 

"Perhaps playing Quidditch too often has damaged your hearing, Potter. Sit. Down."

Snapping out of his mesmerized state, he sat opposite the other man and waited patiently. Snape watched him uneasily as his long, yellowish fingers began to stack the parchments he'd been marking in a neat pile and set it aside. He leaned back in his seat, his greasy hair framing his face as it usually did. Harry returned his gaze as innocently as he could. The prolonged staring went on for an uncomfortably long time before Snape gave a small sigh and leaned in.

"Professor Dumbledore thinks it best for you to continue your lesson," he said.

Harry simply stared at him blankly.

"I do not know why he continues to place his hope on you, neither will I understand how he manages to torment me into doing this tedious job for him every time."

"Er-yes?" Harry added unhelpfully. Snape grimaced, his arms gripping the sides of his chair tightly.

"I have decided, against my own principles, to give you yet another chance. But bear this in mind, Potter, one more time I catch you doing the opposite of what I have been teaching you-"

"-I didn't-"

Snape let out an ugly noise just then at the interruption, and Harry was grateful that he'd forced the urge to laugh back down his throat.

"Do not test my patience! You will sit there and listen, is that clear? Potter?"

"Yes. Sir."

Satisfied with the response, the red in Snape's face dissolved back to its usual pallid state. 

"I have decided to set apart today's class to give you the opportunity to talk. Since it appears that you have yet to grasp the complexity of the subject, I will permit you to ask any questions about the very nature of Occlumency -and Legilimency, if you wish- and I will do my best to explain to someone as empty a head as yourself."

Harry thought it was the most decent conversation Snape had had with him yet, and he was not about to let this opportunity go. All those questions he'd had, this was the only time he could get them answered.

"And I can ask anything? Sir?"

"Correct. You may begin."

No sooner had Snape uttered the words that Harry blurted out the question at the top of his head.

"Can he sense that I've been learning Occlumency?"

"You've shown a far too poor of an attempt for the Dark Lord to even register such a thought in his mind. But no, it is impossible for one to detect another's level of Occlumency, even if they were a master of Legilimens. It works in reverse. A Legilimens can be easily detected simply from the caster's prolonged eye contact and the inevitable rush of memories that accompanies such a powerful spell, of course. An Occlumens, on the other hand, remains undetected in his prowess which is what makes learning it incredibly useful."

"Do you use it against him then?"

Snape eyed him dangerously, and Harry wondered if he'd overstepped his boundary yet again. But Snape answered.

"Yes, Potter. It is essential for someone in my...line of work."

"How come I can see Voldemort's-"

"-don't say his name-"

"-sorry, you-know-who....how can I see his memories? If you say he's trying to use it against me, why would he show me memories of other stuff?" Harry asked, not meeting Snape's eyes this time.

"Other stuff like what?"

"I dunno. Just him talking to other Death Eaters and stuff."

Snape pondered briefly on this, his fingers tapping away impatiently against the cold desk.

"I am merely guessing here but perhaps...he is unable to control what he shares with you. But he becomes aware of it quite quickly, no?"

Harry nodded.

"Yes, the Headmaster believes it to be a question of-" Snape stopped in his tracks and Harry felt the breath hitch in his chest.

"Question of what?"

Snape stood up now and turned his back to Harry. He stared at the jars of slime that adorned the shelf behind him, only his fingers twitching behind his back.

"Sir?"

And then Snape turned and his expression startled Harry. His usual blank stare was now replaced by furrowed brows and a creased forehead. His eyes reflected a strange glint but there was no malice in his gaze, not this time.

"That is between me and him, Potter."

"But if it's about me, sir, don't you think I've got a right to know?"

"It is enough that we know. Your main concern is learning Occlumency. Perhaps once you've mastered it, the Headmaster will tell you the rest. Next question."

"But-"

"Next question, Potter."

Harry eyed him dirtily. Snape gave him a smug smirk as he towered over Harry, and Harry had the sudden urge to hurt him. His scar prickled lightly, sending a small tingle down his spine.

"Why does my head hurt after the lessons?"

Snape did not take too kindly to his accusatory tone, his yellowish teeth bared as he leaned down to face Harry. The movement had been so sudden that Harry had little time to react, his face a few inches away from his professor's. Once again, Harry peered at the darker pair of eyes and watched as the murderous expression was replaced with a more controlled one. Snape seemed to realize the distance and awkwardly pulled himself away. He stormed away from the desk and chose to pace around the room. Harry craned his neck to keep a steady eye on the man. He'd hate nothing more than to be jinxed behind his back...not that Snape would do that to a student, of course, but as he'd mentioned far too many times these weren't regular lessons. And he could easily tell Dumbledore that he'd hurt Harry while Occlumency lessons and no one'd bat an eye.

"Occlumency is not easy, Potter," Snape said a minute later. Harry turned completely to face Snape's direction. The man stood in the corner, next to his door. His voice was so soft that for a moment, Harry contemplating moving closer.

"And Legilimency is just as difficult. Extracting one's memories forcibly works best as it ensures the caster that the information has not been tampered in any form. The Dark Lord resorts to such measures because the method guarantees him rawness of his victims' memories. He achieves this effect by strategically attacking the most vulnerable spot in most people's minds."

Harry had been hanging on to each word Snape had said, and was annoyed when the man had suddenly stopped.

"Which is what exactly?"

"Sir," Snape warned but he continued anyway, "the first line of attack the Dark Lord often executes is to prey on one's childhood memories. Those with...particular difficult moments of their childhood...tend to lock them away in the furthest part of their minds. They do so unconsciously most of the times, and is often key for breaking into one's mind successfully."

"Why is that, sir?"

"As we grow older, we often take control of our thoughts and memories. Even someone who wasn't trained in Occlumency could at least for a few minutes or so hold off the Legilimens spell if you tried to attack their more recent memories. But the memories of when we were children is different. It remains untouched, for some nearly all their life, as they either attempt to preserve or forget it completely. It is much more difficult to keep control of, and thus becomes this sensitive and emotional part of their mind. When the Dark Lord attacks such a part of you, Potter, what is likely to happen?"

Harry mulled over it for a moment, and Snape was patient enough to wait.

"You become overwhelmed."

"Correct. And then you lose control. And then it is all over."

"That's what you did to me, then?"

Snape nodded quietly.

"Though I suspect the Dark Lord will be far worse than anything you've had to endure with me, Potter. Going through someone's memories without their consent tends to leave a mark on one's mental capacity. That explains the dull ache you may feel after our lessons."

"Do you feel it though?"

"I am the caster of the spell here, Potter. Why on earth would I feel-"

"No-not on me. I mean...with Vold-him...he uses the spell on you too, doesn't he? Does it hurt after?"

Snape was eerily silent then. He took two steps towards Harry, his fingers once more twitching uncontrollably as though he intended to place them around Harry's neck.

"What I may feel or do not feel is no concern of yours. Is that understood?"

"I just wanted to know..."

"Do you have any other question, Potter?"

"You said...I'd have to control my emotions if I could learn to do Occlumency properly?" Harry asked. Snape nodded, urging him to continue.

"It's just-I don't...I don't know how," he admitted, casting his eyes to the ground so he could avoid the triumphant look on Snape's face.

"It takes time, Potter. Which is why I practically beg for you to practice before bed every night, though I am sure my request has fallen on deaf ears. At night, you are more relaxed because you no longer face variables that may charge your emotions. If you learn to disassociate from such feelings at this time, it serves as a useful transition for when you attempt it during our lessons."

Harry felt a little guilty then but told himself that if Snape had just told him all of this from the start, he wouldn't have had such a difficult time.

"Voldemort-"

"Potter!"

Harry bit his tongue as he stared up at a furious looking Snape. He was rubbing his left forearm, where Harry knew the Dark Mark was burned onto his skin. He flashed an apologetic look at Snape and shrugged helplessly. He couldn't help slipping up, had been so used to telling Ron off for not calling Voldemort by his name that it felt strange to use any other term now.

"You-know-who, then...he can really show me false memories with his skills?"

Snape watched him curiously.

"He's done so in the past. And he will do it again. Does this frighten you, Potter?"

"No," Harry replied a little too quickly.

"As expected, your father's arrogance runs deeply in you after all. The Dark Lord will attempt to modify memories to lure you in to him, but my job is to make sure you do not fall into that trap. If I fail in that, then you will surely fall victim his...displeasure. Any other questions?"

He was sure there was a great many things left to be answered but his head was already throbbing with all this new information.

"For now. If I have any other questions later-?"

"You may ask in our next lesson," Snape replied curtly, "I think that's enough for today. You may retire for the evening, Potter, but do not forget to practice at night like I have told you."

"Yes, sir."

Pushing himself off the chair, he half-ran towards the door. As he crossed the threshold, he turned back to see Snape back at his desk.

"Er, Professor?"

Snape looked up at him with an irked expression.

"The next lesson-is it on Monday?"

Snape grunted.

"Four times a week will do you some good, I think. Tomorrow evening I expect to see you here. Don't be late again."

With one last hurried nod, Harry closed the door behind him and returned to the warmth of the Gryffindor common room.

Chapter Text

The escaped Death Eaters from Azkaban was what everyone talked about these days, a particular obsession lingered over one dangerous dark-haired and heavy-lidded Bellatrix Lestrange. Some deemed her deranged, while most agreed that she would not hesitate to kill any Muggle or Wizard that she came across. People spoke about her with a dark and disturbed fascination, as they did about Harry these days. As more and more unexplainable attacks occurred in the wizarding community, the Minister for Magic began to fear that Albus Dumbledore's claim on Lord Voldemort's return had been right all alone. He'd certainly heard several members of the Ministry discussing it over the loo, unaware that he'd been in the cubicle next to them. Fearing for his weakened position as Minister, he quickly summoned the only person who was loyal enough to help preserve his status in the community.

Fortunately for the students and staff of Hogwarts, Dolores Umbridge received an urgent owl on Thursday morning from the Ministry that called for her immediate return. With a rushed explanation to McGonagall, the woman had practically flown back to Fudge. The students were pleased because it meant they would be rid of the toad for at least a week or two while the staff were relieved from being pressured by her growing existence around the castle. Order members were grateful for Fudge's threatened state as it meant they could finally regroup at Grimmauld Place securely without worrying about Umbridge needlessly questioning them on their frequent disappearances.

The last meeting they'd had had been a month ago, and Severus had quite nearly been caught as he slipped through the gates. Umbridge had positioned herself very cleverly among a clump of bushes but the stupid woman had been sporting an ugly hat that stuck out, reminding him unpleasantly of the disgusting vulture hat Longbottom's boggart of him had sported. A quick disillusionment charm was all he'd needed, and then he was basically striding past her form without a word. He'd been lucky that time, and Dumbledore had agreed. They'd ceased any meeting and any information Severus had was brought straight to the Headmaster himself.

He'd preferred that, too. Talking to Dumbledore was tiring, but it was nothing compared to the frustration he felt sharing information with the rest of the Order. Where Dumbledore expressed concern and worry over Severus' state (which was no doubt irritating), the Order members were very clear in their anti-Snape attitude whenever he had anything to report. Arthur rarely said anything, Molly was kind enough to ask about his health and Lupin was alright for the most part. The trouble was Black (and occasionally Moody and Tonks) who never missed an opportunity to mock Severus openly, his only intention to humiliate him. Putting up with Black took a different kind of strength and most days he thought he preferred the Dark Lord's company over the childish felon's.

Next to him, Minerva nudged him lightly.

"Tonight. The usual place. Dumbledore's expecting you to brief us on the past months' reports."

"Understood," he replied grimly.

He winced then, and Minerva looked to him with a raised eyebrow. She followed his gaze down to where he was rubbing his left forearm as though it had stung him. 

"Is he-?"

"Yes," Severus said, dejected, "looks like the Order isn't the only one taking the opportunity with Umbridge being away."

It appeared it was going to a thoroughly long and exhaustive day for him.

Harry was beyond elated with Umbridge's departure, as were Ron and Hermione. Sirius had managed to convince both Molly and Dumbledore to allow Harry, Ron and Hermione to join tonight's Order meeting at his mother's house. Part of him did not want to know what his godfather had to sacrifice for their agreements but decided it'd be worth it. He'd grown worried about Sirius since they'd left for school. He knew the man hated being locked up too long in the house and Harry had done his best to make sure Sirius wouldn't try to sneak out for fun. 

"What'd you reckon they'll talk about?" Ron asked as he leaned against the heavy doorframe outside Umbridge's office. Hermione, who had her nose buried under a thick book, looked up at the two boys.

"It's got to be something important if they're resorting to risks like this," she said with a swift motion of her head at the scripted plaque that hung an inch above Ron's head. Umbridge's name gleamed on it, a faint pink glow around it. Harry cast it a disdained look.

"Whatever it is I hope it's about the Order and not about me," he said glumly. Ron and Hermione exchanged worried looks.

"You haven't given them something to talk about, have you, Harry?"

"Oi, leave it Hermione!" Ron cut her off but Harry had heard and his temper was about to go off once more. Ron winced in preparation as his best friend threw Hermione a particular sharp glare but she seemed unfazed by it.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Harry challenged.

"Will you calm down?" Hermione snapped, "I just meant if they are going to talk to you about anything then it's probably going to be about your Occlumency lessons. But you said Snape thought you were getting better at it, weren't you? So there, you've got nothing to worry about."

"I didn't say he said that! He just said insulting me during lessons seem to be 'having an effect' on my skills-whatever that means!"

Hermione weighed in on his words for a moment.

"Well, he has got a funny way of complimenting people. And you have stopped having strange dreams, haven't you?"

Harry opened his mouth to argue but found, to his utter annoyance, that she was right. It had been a few weeks since he'd dreamed about the corridor, and yes he'd get the occasional one where he'd see a Death Eater or two, but it appeared that Occlumency did seem to be working. He shrugged and offered her a smug smile. Ron, pleased that the two hadn't burst into a heated argument, relaxed against the door with a relieved sigh.

"Oh, I hope mum's there-I could really do with one of her chocolates pie right about now," the red-haired boy said just as the door swung open from inside. Ron stumbled and fell onto two steel hands, swallowing as he turned to see McGonagall eyeing him with her sharp eyes.

"S-sorry, Professor," he muttered weakly as she released him from her grip. 

"Inside now, all of you-quickly," she said, sweeping a glance behind them to make sure there was no one else around.

McGonagall closed the door as the other three stepped foot into Umbridge's office. To say the room was an eyesore would be an understatement, Harry supposed, as he caught sight of the sickening cat portraits that surrounded her walls. They were scratching and pawing about, and it took Harry a few seconds to realize that they were agitated because they couldn't see.

"Is that a variation of the Disillusionment charm?" Hermione asked in a wondrous tone.

"Very good, Granger, yes. It is an extension of it. I thought it best that word should not get out to Dolores that she has unwanted guests in her office," McGonagall explained, beckoning them towards the fireplace.

"I thought all Professors had their own in their office-? I know Snape had one-"

"Professor Snape, Potter, and yes we do. But at the current time the Ministry has deemed it appropriate to monitor all staff use of the Floo Network...amongst other things," McGonagall said stalely, the bitterness in her voice resonating with every word.

She then reached into a small container placed above the fireplace and placed a handful of the Floo powder in their grasp. She motioned for Ron to go first.

"In you go now, Weasley. Elbows close to your body," she said.

Ron nodded, stepped into it, head bent as he attempted to fit himself in comfortably. 

"12 Grimmauld Place!" he exclaimed before he was gulfed by a cloud of thick green smoke.

McGonagall assessed the empty fireplace before pointing to Harry.

"Hurry, Potter."

Stepping out of the fireplace, Harry felt two hands pull him into a crushing hug. He heard a familiar, rich laughter and quickly tightened his grip around his godfather. 

"Got a grip as hard as his father, this one," he heard Sirius say as they broke away. Harry grinned widely as the man playfully punched his left shoulder. He wasn't sure how it was possible but Sirius looked far worse than the last time Harry had seen him. His godfather had always been muscular but he seemed to have dropped several pounds, and his exhaustion was evident in the poor way he stood and spoke. His cheekbones were sunken and his hair lay in loose, unkempt strands over his face though they did little to affect his handsomeness. 

"Everything okay, Harry?" Sirius asked. Harry realized that he'd been staring at Sirius for an uncomfortably long time and shook his head, embarrassed.

"Yeah," Harry replied, "just missed you."

And it was true. Though Harry was glad to have Ron and Hermione with him at Hogwarts, he felt they didn't understand him as well as Sirius did. Harry had suffered a personal loss with his parents' deaths, and neither Ron nor Hermione could even begin to understand the devastating effects it had on him. Sirius, on the other hand, had known James and Lily since their school days and knew the man felt Harry's grief as strongly as he did. Unlike everyone else, Sirius treated him as an equal, constantly defending his right to make his own choices rather than coddle him with false presumptions of the world. It comforted him to know that his own father would have loved the idea of his best friend raising his son. It was just a shame that Dumbledore didn't think Sirius was a good enough guardian for Harry.

"Wish you didn't have to," Sirius grunted in response and Harry agreed quietly. He wrapped an arm around Harry, motioning him towards the kitchen.

"Have you eaten yet? Molly's cooked us a feast!"

As they entered the dining area, Harry spotted Mr. Weasley by the corner with a cupcake in hand. The man glanced around nervously before taking a bite, much to Harry's amusement. As he went to take another bite, his gaze shifted to meet Harry's and he gave a short grin as he raised the cake toward Harry.

"Harry! Ron said you'd be next. How are you?"

"Alright, Mr. Weasley. You're looking better!"

At that, Mr. Weasley proudly reached to pull his shirt over his chest and pointed to three, long gashes that stretched from rib to neck.

"Haven't been better. Scars are almost faded now...I've got a follow-up at St. Mungo's next week and then I'm officially recovered."

The man was so cheerful that Harry couldn't help smiling himself. Sirius beckoned for Harry to move to the kitchen and as they neared it, he turned to address Mr. Weasley with a snicker.

"Arthur, Molly's coming!"

Arthur Weasley's eyes widened as his grin disappeared behind a mouthful of the cake he'd shoved in quickly, choking as he tried to swallow it down. Sirius barked with laughter as Harry did his best to hide his face. Mr. Weasley stared at the door, seemed to realize that Sirius had tricked him, and raised a playful fist at his godfather. Sirius turned to Harry to offer an explanation.

"The healers asked him to cut back on the sugar, said it might counteract with the snake venom in his system. Molly's been snapping at him all week-I saw him try and bribe Mundungus Fletcher for some sweets from Honeyduke's last Tuesday. Molly found out, of course," Sirius said humorously, his eyes twinkling.

"Bet he won't be coming round here anymore," Harry replied.

"No, he won't," said Sirius as he threw open the kitchen doors. Inside, Mrs. Weasley was standing by the stove chiding Ron as he maintained a distance behind her, chocolate smeared over the corner of his mouth. He looked annoyed at the attention his mother was giving him, and a look of relief spread across his face as he saw Harry.

"There you are, dear! I was worried if something had happened-"

"It's just the Floo, Molly," Sirius grunted as he flashed an annoyed glance at Harry.

Mrs. Weasley chose to ignore Sirius' comment as she pulled Harry into a hurried embrace. She inspected Harry's face and then his hands with a narrowed glance at Ron. She stared at the scars Umbridge had left on his knuckles, her face reddening as Harry withdrew himself from her grasp. She looked as though she wanted to say something but Sirius decided, much to Harry's own relief, to step in.

"Is dinner ready yet? Best to put some meals into them before the meeting," Sirius asked stepping over to place his hand on Harry's shoulder. Harry hadn't noticed, he'd been too busy glowering at Ron. This was what Harry had been afraid of, that everyone would start to question him about Umbridge's treatment towards him rather than discuss what the Order had been doing. Ron had probably told his mother about the toad's punishments out of concern, but he hated how this would only make Mrs. Weasley coddle him more. The last thing Harry wanted was to be seen as a child.

"The meeting's been postponed," Mrs. Weasley said briskly, striding back towards the kitchen, "we'll have dinner and send the children back."

"Why?" Sirius and Harry exclaimed at the same time. Harry noticed the small sigh from Mrs. Weasley as switched the stove off and removed her apron. 

"Dumbledore's orders," she said.

"He called us for a meeting and then decided to postpone it? Everyone'll be arriving soon, Molly, they've all made their excuses so they could be here and he thinks it's a good idea to call it off? We might not get another chance to re-group, you know that-"

"Yes, Sirius, I do know that. But if Dumbledore thinks that-"

"-why don't you stop pretending this is Dumbledore's decision and tell us why tonight's meeting is really cancelled, Molly?

Mrs. Weasley blinked at him, confused at what he was implying.

"What is that supposed to mean, Sirius?" she asked. Harry and Ron exchanged nervous glances now, both determined to make themselves invisible from this conversation.

"Don't play that game with me, you're much too wise for that. Tonight was about to be about that git reporting what Voldemort (Ron and Mrs. Weasley gasped) has been up to the past month-and it just so happens he hasn't responded to any of the Order's messages? Dumbledore's called it off because of Snape!"

"And he has every right to do so," Mrs. Weasley said calmly, "if Dumbledore thinks Severus' life is threatened, he can call of the meeting as he damn well pleases."

Sirius scoffed, crossing his arms as he looked to Harry for support.

"And why the hell do we need to call off the meeting just because that git decided to get himself into trouble? Surely others have more valuable information to report than Snape spending two hours telling us about how hard it is to be a spy."

Mrs. Weasley gave a shrill laugh.

"Jealousy is a dangerous emotion, Sirius. I think it's best if you head out and help to set the table. Dinner's almost ready."

Harry watched as Sirius' face turned white, and he was shocked himself by the coldness in Mrs. Weasley's voice. He had never heard her speak with so much contempt in her voice before. She and Sirius had always butted heads but this was the first time Sirius seemed to truly take offense by her choice in words. Harry knew they were both too stubborn to back away from this argument now.

"Me? Jealous? Of that git? Don't make me laugh!" Sirius said laughing mirthlessly. 

"Then stop insulting him any chance you get. Severus has gone through enough-"

"Oh, poor Severus, he's a sad little Death Eater who spends his free time murdering innocent people-ooh, let's all sit around a circle and praise him for being Voldemort's loyal dog!" Sirius sniggered in a high and lofty voice. On the opposite end of the kitchen, Molly's cheeks reddened once more.

"And what have you done for the Order exactly?"

"Sirius-Mrs. Weasley-" Harry started but Sirius shoved him aside lightly as he walked towards Mrs. Weasley. Behind his mother, Ron straightened, hand drawing on his wand in case Sirius became a real threat.

"If he's so useful to us, Molly, why haven't we acted on any of his information? He told us where Voldemort's been setting up camp months ago, and we've yet to do anything about it. Why is that?"

"What?" Harry asked loudly. Sirius and Mrs. Weasley turned to him then, as though realizing what they had let slip.

"What did you say?" he repeated. Sirius exhaled, head bowing in frustration.

"We know where Voldemort's hiding?"

"Don't say his name, Harry-"

"Sirius, we know where he is?' Harry asked, ignoring Molly's shouts. Sirius nodded, dejected.

"Then why haven't we told the Ministry? If they know where he is-"

"That's precisely what I said, Harry. But Dumbledore doesn't think it's a good idea."

"What? Why?" he asked. Sirius turned to Mrs. Weasley, urging her to answer with a smug look on his face. Harry turned to her now, brows furrowed as he regarded her.

"If the Order were to leak you-know-who's whereabouts to the Ministry, Harry, it would directly place Severus' position and life in danger. He's the only person who has contact with both sides, and if the enemy's position was compromised...you see how much of a risk this could be to him?"

Harry could feel a strange, white-hot feeling spreading across his chest now and his head was starting to hurt from this. The Order knew where Voldemort was hiding and they hadn't done anything. All because Dumbledore was worried over the safety of a single man, as opposed to the hundreds that had died from Voldemort's rise to power. 

"How long have you known?" Harry asked.

"Three months," came the reply.

Harry staggered and Sirius grabbed him just before he fell. His mind was reeling now. He was beyond angry. How many times had Dumbledore preached to him about the greater good? And here he was throwing it all away for Snape-a Death Eater who bullied children in his spare time. He recognized the jealousy he was feeling as well, that the headmaster would go to such lengths to defend a man without telling anyone else his reason. When had he ever regarded Harry in that way? Dumbledore cared about Harry's safety, that he knew, but he trusted Severus Snape more than he could ever trust Harry. And that feeling hurt.

"Three months," Harry repeated quietly, "we could have saved so many people. We could have fought them-the Ministry would've had proof that he was alive. Three months!"

Mrs. Weasley's eyes were red as she looked to Harry.

"We'd face a bigger loss if we attacked you-know-who's headquarters and lost, Harry. We'd have lost our people, and we'd have lost our only source from the other side. You have no idea how difficult this decision was but in the end we all decided that we couldn't betray Severus like that. Severus had no qualms about us attacking them, he made sure we knew he wouldn't mind giving up his position as a spy-but in the end, it was Dumbledore's call. And Dumbledore chose not to act on it."

"It's not your fault, Mum," Ron said finally, "there must be a reason why he'd want Snape to go on being a spy."

Harry knew Ron was right. If he knew Dumbledore, the man probably had more access to information about Voldemort from Snape than the rest of the Order. He probably filtered out what Snape reported back to the Order in case there was a traitor in their midst. Resenting himself fully for his thoughts, Harry decided that perhaps it was for the best that Dumbledore had allowed Voldemort's hideout to be a secret to the rest of the wizarding world.

The cold silence in the kitchen became far too much to bear, and Harry wished he hadn't come here in the first place. As Sirius cleared his throat, Hermione's head popped into the kitchen with an air of cheerfulness that made a strange combination with the tenseness in the room.

"Took you long enough, where'd you go?" Ron asked, finally emerging from his watchful state.

"Malfoy," she said, "he must've seen us hanging around Umbridge's office-he tried to break into her room just when I was about to use the Floo."

"Git," said Harry with feigned interest in the conversation. He hoped this would calm things down between Sirius and Mrs. Weasley.

"Thought he was smart, threatening to break the door down-as if he could! Anyway, McGonagall didn't want Malfoy reporting back to Umbridge so she pretended as though she'd caught me trespassing and took me out where he was waiting. Made a whole speech about how she was going to serve me a month's detention-and took a few house points, sorry about that by the way-and then we had to circle back to the common room...waited a few minutes and then went back under a Disillusionment charm. It was rather stupid but I suppose it's better than having Umbridge start a new investigation."

The issue was taken less seriously than Hermione had intended, and their lack of response distinguished any dramatic effect she had attempted to pose on them. She seemed to finally realize the tension in the air and quickly turned to Mrs. Weasley with a smile.

"Oh, Mrs. Weasley, Ginny sends her love! She was very sorry that she hadn't been asked to attend the meeting tonight," she said.

"There's not going to be one after all," Sirius muttered darkly. Hermione frowned.

"Oh?" she asked but Ron quickly reached her in three full strides, grabbing her arm and reaching for Harry's as he pulled them towards the dining room.

"Long story. We'd tell you but I don't want to get caught between those two again," the red-haired boy mumbled. 

Harry gave Sirius a glance as they exited the kitchen, and saw that the man held a firm but apologetic expression on his face. He heard Mrs. Weasley say something before the door behind them closed. 

Chapter Text

He was exhausted. No, it was beyond that. He felt as though he was already dead, a lively corpse going about his day. Every inch of his body was screaming at him to slow down, that if he wasn't careful he'd wind up in a permanent room at St. Mungo's - or worse, a burial ground by Hogwarts. Disturbing as it was, Severus felt a strange pleasure in indulging in the thought of his own expiration one day. The freedom it would give him, the ache he would no longer feel in his limbs...or his chest. It hurt a lot more these days, he thought, as fingers extended over his chest to massage it lightly. 

He knew why it was, he simply did not want to dwell on it. The boy had been showing some improvement in his Occlumency lessons but Severus feared it would not be enough to withstand the Dark Lord's force of magic. No, the man would destroy the boy's mind in mere seconds at the rate they were going. The truth of the matter was, he had this unending fear that Lily Potter's son would not survive for much longer. And if the boy died, that meant the last piece of reminder Severus had of Lily would be gone. The boy's death meant the end of his own purpose too, he knew that much.

Severus was quickly approaching the hilltop now, eyes scrutinizing his surroundings for any sign of enemies. He knew he had gained the Dark Lord's trust enough to drop his guard a little, but he'd be a fool of a spy if he did not take extra precautions. Even if the Dark Lord wasn't keeping an eye on him, he knew a lot of the Death Eaters were. Many of them were angry that a lowly half-Blood like him had quickly become one of their Master's favorites, especially after knowing he was still keeping close ties with Dumbledore.

He looked up at the black sky and figured it would be nearing midnight soon, and the best thing to do now was head back to the castle. But the news he'd learned at the meeting was gnawing at him, the danger the information held was too important to be discussed the next morning. No, he had to inform the rest of the Order tonight. There was no knowing when they would have the opportunity to hold the next meeting, after all.

"Expecto Patronum!" he shouted, watching as a ball of light leaped out from the tip of his wand and danced lightly in front of him.

The light shone brightly and then began to take form; a head, ears, legs, and a pair of bright eyes. Severus regarded the beautiful doe in front of him for a minute, its wondrous image never ceasing to capture his own wonderment. And then he was kneeling so that his face was an inch away from his Patronus.

"I have information. It cannot wait for the next meeting. Headed to Grimmauld Place, will expect your arrival before I begin."

The doe repeated his words in a perfect echo and he nodded.

"Oh, and try not to show yourself to the old man, won't you?" Severus said to the doe now, "I don't want to hear what he has to say about you. Not yet, anyway."

The doe looked at him, inclined its head as though it understood his orders and shifted once more into a flying ball of light. Severus watched as it floated away from him, its shimmering light fading away and leaving him in a state of darkness once more. He turned on his heels, closed his eyes and vanished with a pop! sound.

Over at Grimmauld Place, dinner with the rest of the Order had considerably lightened everyone's moods. Sirius was now sporting a drunken smile across his face as he leaned against the cabinet by the kitchen entrance, hand barely clinging on to a large bottle of Firewhiskey.  Even Mrs. Weasley had brightened up after the argument as she passed her chocolate pies across the room. Harry felt a little less burdened by the presence of everyone in the room: Moody, Lupin, Tonks and even Kingsley had taken the time to meet up tonight.

Upon knowing the meeting was most likely cancelled, they had, much to Harry's own delight, still decided to stay and catch up. Moody had even allowed Harry, Ron and Hermione to spend the night there after Kingsley reported that she'd be stuck at the Ministry for another week or two. They could easily slip back into the castle the next day too so that no one would've noticed their absence.

The chattering kept Harry in a good mood as he sat back with a contented smile, watching Tonks and Hermione whispering loudly with reddened faces. Next to her, Ron kept shifting  over to the girls with an irked expression, as though he wanted in on their secretive conversation. Tired of their sudden outburst of giggles, he rolled his eyes before turning his attention towards a jelly tart. Moody and Lupin were discussing the werewolves' movements but it appeared there was no new information on whether Voldemort had tried to recruit them. Harry's eyes lingered on Mrs. Weasley a moment. She seemed to be as distracted as Harry was over everyone's presence in the room. He reckoned she was probably lonely at the Burrow, what with Mr. Weasley caught up at work and the rest of her children at Hogwarts. He offered her a sympathetic smile but she did not notice. 

"He didn't!" Hermione exclaimed, hands coming up to cover her mouth in shock.

"He did! He did! He thought I was trying to sneak something out so he made me take it off!" Tonks howled, throwing her head back to laugh so violently that she nearly fell off her chair. Lupin, who was sitting next to her, looked as though he'd expected it and with one smooth move had gripped the chair and pushed it forward. Tonks thanked him with a watery smile and a wink as Hermione burst into giggles.

"Oi, you two want to tell us what's so funny already?" Ron fumed as Lupin silently shook his head, motioning for Ron not to ask Tonks to re-tell whatever it was that had made her so hysterical. But he needn't had bothered for Tonks quickly straightened herself, pushing herself forward so that she looked at Ron with a serious expression.

"Alright, Weasley, since you're dying to know...I'll tell you," she grinned. 

Everyone's attention was on Tonks now, curious to know what she had to say.

"Fourth year, yeah, me and this Ravenclaw boy-"

"Owens!" Sirius called from across the room, raising his bottle, "it's one of my favorite story of hers."

"Right, yeah, Owens and I'd snuck off to the second floor girl's lavatory for some snogging action," Tonks explained, turning to Lupin as he made a strangled noise, "and we'd taken our clothes off (Mrs. Weasley was throwing Tonks a dirty look now) when bloody Peeves decided to swoop in and ruin our plans!"

Harry and Ron glanced at each other with smug smirks while the rest of the Order sported raised eyebrows and hidden amusement on their faces. 

"What'd you do?" Ron asked. Beside him, Hermione was practically bursting to continue the story but held back as Tonks carried on.

"What else? We ran for it! But the idiot took off with both our robes in his panic-and all I had on was my knickers and-"

"Tonks!" Mrs. Weasley warned and the pink-haired woman raised her hands up defensively.

"I had on...my essentials, I'd say, and this huge old robe hanging next to Moaning Myrtle's cubicle. So I'd put that on and made my way to the common room and I'd have made it too if Snape hadn't been there-"

"Hang on, what was Snape doing near the Hufflepuff common room?" Harry quizzed, Snape's mention catching his interest now.

"Dunno," Tonks said with a frown, "he was by the kitchens so maybe he was trying to get in for a meal or something."

"Doesn't matter what that git was doing now, does it? What happened then?" Ron said, waving Harry off and urging Tonks to continue.

"Yeah, well, he'd seen me and asked me what I was doing there. Told him I'd come out for a breeze-did not appreciate that, I can tell you that."

The rest of the Order laughed then. Even Sirius joined in, throwing Harry a wink as he leaned back against the cupboard.

"Then he saw my robes weren't mine and guessed I was probably hiding something. The prick thought I was trying to sneak something back into the common room so he asked me to turn out my pockets. There wasn't anything there, of course, so he made me take the robes off too!"

At this, Harry, Ron and Sirius roared with laughter at Tonks. Mrs. Weasley was pink in the face and her lips twitched as if she was trying her best not to laugh at Tonks' expense.

"Tonks," Ron said with a light wheeze, "you didn't do it, did you?"

Tonks closed her eyes and brought two hands to cover her face.

"Oh, that poor man," Lupin said before his voice was drowned out by loud barks of laughter ringing around the room.

Harry could not remember a time he had laughed as hard or as genuinely as he did just then. It brought him a temporary joy, to look around and see everyone he loved seated around the room in a pleasant mood. He thanked Tonks and her embarrassing story silently as they had relieved him of the impending doom he knew awaited him outside of Hogwarts and the Order's protection. They had given him an escape tonight and he was entirely grateful for it.

"What did he say?" Hermione exclaimed through short giggles.

"He must've threatened to expel you!" Ron butted in now.

"I did. Unfortunately, the headmaster found the story too amusing to her back home."

The giggles and laughter had stopped immediately, and everyone was frozen in their places, too afraid to look up at where the cold, sneering voice had come from. When Harry finally had the courage to do so, he saw Snape standing by the doorway with a sullen expression. The man was in his usual black robes, the greasy hair forming a curtain around his pale, sallow face.

"Severus, Albus mentioned the meeting would be pulled back to another day," Mrs. Weasley said softly. Snape turned his gaze, his features softening a little as he addressed her.

"I apologize for the intrusion, Molly. Unfortunately, I thought it best to share the information I gathered as quickly as possible. It's directly related to the Order's attempts to secure...." Snape's voice trailed away as his eyes fell on Harry, Ron and Hermione seated at the table, "...the weapon."

"No need to apologize, dear. We were just having dinner-would you like to join us, Severus? I could pull up a chair," Mrs. Weasley offered. 

The trio quickly looked at each other, wondering where Ron's mother would put Snape. Harry knew Mrs. Weasley wouldn't put him next to Moody; the two of them hated one another. Put him next to Lupin or Tonks...Lupin or Tonks...' Harry thought, concentrating hard as though he could plant the idea over to Mrs. Weasley.

"We've finished dinner, actually," Sirius said, stepping over from where he stood. Snape, who had failed to notice Sirius across from him, started but maintained his composure. There was a mutual dislike in their faces as they stared at each other.

"How wonderful," Snape said dryly, "I was wondering how I'd turn down the invitation. I'm not particularly fond of sharing meals with animals, you see, particularly stray dogs."

Sirius' face turned red. Harry quickly glanced to Lupin for help and noticed his old Professor had stood up now, his hand stuffed in the pocket of his trousers.

"You said you had information for us, Snape?" Moody barked. Sirius and Snape both turned to the ex-Auror now. Opposite Harry, Lupin relaxed but had drawn out his wand to his side as if he knew Moody's distraction would not be enough.

"I do. It would be better if Dumbledore was here before I began. I've sent him a message, he should be arriving soon," Snape said curtly, more to Mrs. Weasley than to Moody or anyone else.

The dining room was caught in an uncomfortable, awkward silence as everyone continued to stare at everyone and everything but Snape. The man was happy enough to stand there by the corner, silent and watchful.

"You sure I couldn't offer you any food, Severus? You must be exhausted after..."

"After licking the back of Voldemort's arse you mean, Molly. Don't hold back now, we all know what you mean to say-"

"-I was not aware you were in a position to insult anyone else, Black, after all, you are the only member of the Order who serves his purpose by lying about his mother's house."

It appeared Mrs. Weasley's attempt to diffuse the awkwardness in the room had only turned it into a hostile situation. Harry heard Lupin mutter something under his breath as he took a step forward towards Snape and Sirius. 

Sirius laughed coldly now.

"The git who's too afraid to fight for the good side is going to condemn what I do? I must say, Snivellus, you've become far much of an idiot since our school days," he growled.

It was Snape's turn to flush now. Harry could see a vein on his temple, threatening to burst at any time.

"Sirius, come sit down," Lupin called out. 

"Ah, see here, Black, your pet's calling out for you. Best run along and do what he says," Snape replied, his lip curling into the sneer that Harry despised.

"Don't you dare speak a word against Remus!" Sirius challenged.

Sirius had crossed the few steps that separated him and Snape now. The two men were facing one another, just another foot and they would make immediate contact with each other. Sirius' fist was balled by his side as Snape's nose flared in anger.

"Worried I'll hurt his feelings?"

"Tell me... what's it like, Snivellus-working for the other side? Does Voldemort make you do tricks for him if he's in the mood?"

"Sirius-" Mrs. Weasley whispered but Mr. Weasley lightly pulled her back.

"Is this jealousy, Black?"

"Jealous? Of what, exactly? Your big nose?"

"That I'm more useful to the Order than you? It must kill you to know that Dumbledore places his faith on me now instead of a bunch of daredevil Gryffindors that run around doing whatever with no regard for anyone's safety. My, how the times have changed."

"Severus, please-"

"Shut up, Remus," Sirius shouted, "you have no idea the sacrifices we made, Snape! Me and James and Remus-we gave our lives to the Order!"

"And you believe I haven't done the same?"

Sirius snorted.

"Don't make me laugh, Snivellus. The only reason you're here is to save your own skin. You sold Voldemort out all those years ago because you thought he was dead. You're only a part of the Order because it's what's keeping you out of Azkaban."

Snape had fallen silent now, eyes blacker than ever as he watched Sirius with obvious loathing and bitterness.

"I am here because I am loyal to the Order, Black," he said quietly.

"Prove it," Black scoffed.

"The question of my loyalty lies between me and Dumbledore. It is enough that he knows," Snape said turning away from Sirius. Sirius, however, was not quite finished just yet.

"He's wrong, Snape. He may be right about a lot of things but he's wrong about you. You're evil. I know that and if James was here, he'd trust me enough to think so too."

Snape stared at Sirius, blank-faced. Harry knew what was coming next. Sirius had made a mistake in bringing up James.

"Oh, but he isn't here, is he? And why is that I wonder-? Oh, yes, because he trusted you enough to let Peter Pettigrew take your place. And we all know how well that turned out, don't we?"

It happened so quickly that no one had expected it. Sirius had swung at Snape, and the other man had failed to block his strike. Snape stumbled back, eyes wide as Sirius charged into him. The two of them fell in a heap as the rest of the table jumped to their feet. Everyone was shouting at once. Mrs. Weasley was screaming at Moody to do something but the man did not know where his wand was. Lupin was shouting at Sirius to get off while Ron had dragged Hermione away from the two men wrestling on the ground.

Harry watched as Sirius easily pinned Snape against the floor, his hand coming to place it against the other man's neck aggressively. Snape turned white as he writhed against Sirius' grasp on him. As frail as Sirius' figure was, Harry knew he was much, much stronger than Snape.

"Get off him, Sirius!" Lupin was shouting as he tried to pull Sirius back. But Sirius was in a locked trance, staring down at Snape with a murderous glint in his eyes.

"How dare you talk about James!" he seethed, putting more force against Snape's neck. Snape was starting to turn blue now.

"Do you know why you'll never be a part of the Order, Snivellus? It's-because-of-this-!"

As he spoke, Sirius reached out his other hand to pin Snape's left hand against the floor. He tugged at the left sleeve so that the buttons went flying off. Sirius pulled back the sleeve roughly to reveal the ugly Dark Mark etched onto Snape's arm. Harry had seen it once before in his fourth year, when Snape had revealed it to Fudge in an attempt to convince him of Voldemort's return. But the Mark looked mutated now, as though someone had run through it a second time.

"STOP IT, SIRIUS!"

He didn't realize that he had said it until everyone turned to look at him. Harry was panting slightly as he looked at Sirius. His godfather had released his hold on Snape as he turned towards Harry with an expression of betrayal and sadness. It was then that Harry saw how he was directing his wand at Sirius, a spell at the tip of his tongue, threatening to roll out if he did not move away from Snape.

"Sirius-get off him," Lupin rasped, gripping Sirius by the collar and dragging him back.

On the floor, Snape rolled over, spluttering for air. Mrs. Weasley rushed to his side immediately, reaching out to pat his back.

"Get off me!" Snape roared at her, pushing his body against the wall and jumping to his feet. Mrs. Weasley recoiled from his harsh tone. They all watched as he pulled down the sleeve exposing his Dark Mark to the best of his ability before casting a dirty look at them. He stopped to stare at Harry, his face twisting in a ugly manner before it rested on Sirius who was being held down by Lupin.

"Touch me again, Black, and I'll kill you myself."

"Severus? What is the meaning of this?"

Everyone turned now to look at the entrance way where Dumbledore stood with a worried frown. Behind him, McGonagall was shaking her head in disapproval.

"Another argument...as always," Kingsley finally spoke with an exasperated tone in his voice.

"This again? I thought we were past-"

"Don't," Snape said firmly, with a shake of his head, "just don't, Dumbledore. I will report to you tomorrow."

And with a stiff nod, he brushed past Dumbledore. McGonagall followed after Snape but Dumbledore remained where he stood, a dark expression falling across his face now.

"I think we have had enough excitement for tonight. Kingsley, would you see to it the children return to the castle safely? The rest of you, you are dismissed. I will alert everyone if there is need to re-group," Dumbledore ordered.

Harry, Ron and Hermione stood up and were ushered away by Kingsley. He gave Sirius an apologetic glance but his godfather adamantly looked away. 

"Sirius, I would like to have a word with you. You too, Remus," Dumbledore said as Harry was led out to the fireplace.

Harry's heart was pounding against his chest now. He hadn't meant to scream at Sirius but the man had taken a step too far. Harry feared momentarily that perhaps isolating Sirius from other people had turned him a little deranged after all. He was sure that had Harry not stopped him, Sirius would have killed Snape then and there.

"I didn't think it'd get that bad," Ron said finally, once Kingsley had safely ensured their return to Hogwarts. The three of them walked hurriedly towards their common room, hoping neither Filch nor Malfoy would catch them about.

"We should have done something. I don't think it was right-what Sirius did. I mean, exposing Snape's Dark Mark like that..." Hermione whispered.

Harry felt the urge to defend Sirius now, his temper rising once more.

"Well, you heard what he said about my dad, didn't you? He was just as bad as Sirius-and don't tell me otherwise!"

Ron and Hermione became silent, as did Harry. As they ascended the staircase and bowed into the hole behind the Portrait, Harry knew they were all thinking the same thing. Snape was going to be in a very foul temper tomorrow, and Harry had the feeling he would be at the receiving end of it.

Chapter Text

He dreamed of the ocean. The dark waves came crashing over him, violent but beautiful-and yet, he was unharmed. He felt his head plunge under, and he was sinking deeper and deeper...there was a brief flash of lightning from above him. He should be drowning, he thought, and yet as he was pulled in he could move and breathe as he wished. There was another flash of light and as he looked upward, he heard voices. A woman was begging for the lives of her husband and her child. A man screaming in agony as he promised his soul away. A child was crying as a green light flew past his head. He began to swim against the current now-he'd recognized the voices. He had to get to them, he had to tell them that it hadn't been their fault. It was his. Everything was-

The voices were fading away, leaving only echoes behind. He fought harder, he needed to reach them before they disappeared. Their voices were replaced by insistent knocking sounds and they were drowning out everything else. 'Wait,' he shouted but no one could hear him. He saw-

Severus woke up, swearing under his breath. He lay there panting, fists clenched against his sheets, beads of sweat trapped between his brows. He had barely a moment to process his dream when a familiar knocking sound came from outside his door. Severus frowned upon realizing the person responsible for breaking him out of the dream was now standing outside, meters away at his disposal. He glanced over to the small clock hung on his wall. It was a quarter past six. Severus fell back against his pillow just as the knocks came again.

He jumped to his feet, the creases in his face making its way back as he threw open the door and stared down the wide, green eyes of a trembling house-elf. 

"What?" he demanded, pointing at it. He was familiar with the elf. It had belonged to Lucius for a while until Potter had taken a liking to it and set it free. It was the same damned elf that had broken into his Potions store to steal Gillyweed for Potter to use in the tournament last year. Severus glared at it, aware that he was harboring a ridiculous animosity for the elf. It had gone to extreme lengths to protect Potter and any friend of Potter's meant trouble for him, surely.

"Sorry, Sir, Professor Dumbledore wanted Dobby to present you with this letter, Sir. If Sir will take it, Dobby will excuse himself to the kitchen, Sir," the elf said nervously, extending a folded parchment out to him. Severus snatched it from his hands and closed the door before the house-elf could so much as speak. He sneered as he heard it mumble a string of apology before scurrying back. 

With a grunt, he flipped open the letter, pouring over its contents carefully. 

You owe me a report, I believe, Severus. I expect you at my office - preferably before breakfast.

He re-read it again, his bitterness for the headmaster returning. Had it been any other day, he would have rushed to the man's side, it was in the nature of a servant after all to appease his master when called for it. But last night's fiasco with Black was still ringing clearly in his mind, and Severus decided to be vindictive just a little longer. He knew Dumbledore summoning him extended to beyond a Death Eater's meeting report; the man probably wanted to goad him into yet another argument about Black and his supposed worth to the Order. And Severus didn't think he had the energy nor the time for that.

"No, I don't think I will be seeing you before breakfast," Severus said aloud to the letter. He scrunched it into a ball and flung it towards the empty fireplace. Walking to his desk, he picked out a spare parchment and scripted a quick summary of the previous night's meeting. It was not as detailed as he'd have given in-person but he supposed it was enough to keep the headmaster informed on the Dark Lord's current movements. He was sure that if Dumbledore wanted, he'd come and find him.

With a snort at the thought of Dumbledore chasing him about the castle, Severus drew his want to the top of the note. He whispered an incantation, placing an invisible charm over it so no one but Dumbledore could read it. The castle was pretty safe but if there was anything being a spy had taught him, it was to minimize as many risks as he could. Folding the parchment, he snapped his fingers and shouted, "Winky!"

Almost immediately, there was a loud snap as the other house-elf appeared before him. He stood there a moment, assessing the state of her. She looked a little better than she had a few months ago, when he'd caught her poisoning herself with bottles of Butterbeer in the kitchen. He was glad for it, though he did not know why he seemed to give this elf the time of day at all. Winky, who had noticed his slight trance, jumped on the balls of her feet and bowed dramatically. Her sudden movement snapped him out of his thoughts as he beckoned her towards him.

"Master Snape, Sir, what can Winky do for you today, Sir?" she asked, tugging at his night gown. He pulled her arm away before thrusting into it the note for Dumbledore. He gave her a stiff nod.

"I need you to take this to Professor Dumbledore for me. Straight to him, do you hear me? And you will tell no one of the note or of my orders. Is that clear?"

"Yes, of course, Master Snape. I will take this to Professor Dumbledore right away sir."

"Tell him I'll come see him when my schedule frees up," he added.

Winky nodded, took another ridiculous bow before vanishing once more. With that bit of business managed, Severus turned his focus to getting ready for breakfast, his strange dream already forgotten.

Down in the Great Hall, Severus was pleased to see both Dumbledore and Umbridge's seats vacant. That was two less headaches he'd have in the morning then, he thought as he shuffled over next to Minerva. The woman gave him a sharp look, as if she wanted to discuss last night's incident with Black. His iron gaze, however, subdued her momentarily as she shifted to give him room. He caught her rolling her eyes as she reached over to place a plate in front of him.

Try the toast," she said, "you look like you could use it."

Without another word, she turned to Filius, engaging him in conversation about the latest mayhem the Weasley Twins had set loose in her classroom. He sniggered quietly, knowing full well that the two Weasleys wouldn't dare to pull such antics in his classroom. They had tried, he remembered vaguely, but stopped once they'd realized he was perfectly content with handing continuous detentions for as long as they were in Hogwarts. Of course, they also realized that he'd strategically arranged for their detentions to fall during the Gryffindor teams' Quidditch practice. It was a simple tactic, but nevertheless efficient.

Severus' eyes swept through the lines of tables in the Hall as he took a bite of his toast. It slowed down only when he spotted the messy-haired Gryffindor sitting by himself near the end of the entrance. Potter was alone today, he noted, his two little sidekicks had probably tired of keeping him company this morning. Word was his tempers were becoming frequent, and he was just as delighted to see how the rest of his housemates had begun to distance themselves away from him. He was a little sick to have such enjoyment over the boy's obvious misery, he knew that, but a part of him reveled over the fact that James Potter's son was no more as popular than Severus himself had been during their school days.

The man would be rolling in his grave now, to know what had become of his son. Just last night Potter's boy had defended Severus from Black, his father's best friend. What would his father say to that, he wondered with a smug smile, to know his son had pointed a wand at his godfather in an attempt to 'rescue' him. Severus felt his sneer fade and be replaced with growing disgust over his own thoughts. The boy hadn't rescued him-he'd simply stalled the situation until Dumbledore arrived. Potter had aimed his wand at Black, yes, but he never would've jinxed him. Not for Severus.

But Dumbledore would have believed otherwise, he thought. It was annoying just how often the headmaster's voice intruded his thoughts, urging him to think differently. But what was there to think about this? Potter had stood up to Black not because it had been the right thing to do, but because it would once again paint him as a hero. Yet, his thoughts were now overrun by someone else who'd done the same for him years ago. She had stood up to Potter-and to many others- when they had bullied him. Even after she ended their friendship, she had told them off for picking on him. Had she perhaps passed on her traits to her son? The thought frightened him. To know that Potter perhaps was more like his mother-that he had her capacity to love unselfishly. To know that he was Lily's son instead of Potter's. 

Severus blinked. What difference would it make-that if he was more his mother than his father? Regardless, Severus had sold his soul to ensure the boy survived until the very end. He cursed Dumbledore silently, reminding himself not to spend too much time with the old man else he start turning into him. His thoughts became scattered still as a loud shriek covered the air. As he looked up, an ugly owl came soaring straight towards him, landing in the middle of where he sat so that the bread and pudding and soup and coffee went flying everywhere. Covered in bits of food, Severus swore loudly, much to some of the students' amusement. Minerva's lips twitched as she regarded him and the bird that was now righting itself amidst the chaos it had created. The owl hopped towards him, refusing to budge until he reached to remove the scroll attached to its feet. As he freed the bird from its delivery, it pecked him hard on the hand before lifting itself into the air once more.

"Damned bird," Severus cursed, sucking off the bead of blood that had formed on the back of his hand.

"Expecting something this early?" Minerva quizzed with a slight raise of her eyebrow. He shook his head, just as equally puzzled as she was.

He rarely received any letters-he didn't have a lot of friends outside of his Death Eater circle. And he doubted any of them would write to him; they either despised him or were downright illiterate fools. With an exasperated sigh, he worked to unroll the parchment, its pinkish surface almost glowing in the morning light. Severus felt a rush of horror at the paper's familiarity, an expression shared by both Minerva and Filius as they watched him read through it.

"Ah," Severus said softly, eyes glazing over the letter for a second time. He had a horrible smile on his face as he read through it again.

"Severus?" Minerva asked in a concerned tone, but he refused to look at her.

She reached out to pull the note from his grasp, and he heard both her and Filius exclaim in shock and disgust as they finished reading it. When he finally did look at her, she looked positively livid. It was touching to see his colleague's outrage on his behalf, but he doubted she could do anything else to help now. He had a sinking feeling in his chest as Minerva returned his letter back to him, and Severus found himself wishing he'd never come down for breakfast in the first place.

"You have to tell Albus," Minerva said quietly.

"No," was all Severus said in return.

"Severus, the-the-the hag is threatening to sack you-"

"An investigation, is what the letter said, Minerva. And I expect it's fair of them to do so...parents are sure to question their child's education if it were taught to them by a Death Eater."

Minerva flinched at that.

"It is the most ridiculous thing I've ever heard-I mean, really! It's not like you're teaching the children to cast the Unforgivable Curses!"

"No, that was the other Death Eater," Severus said with another horrible smile. Images of Moody and Barty Crouch Jr. crossed his mind now, and he felt his skin become paler still.

"What are you going to do, Severus?" FIlius squeaked from a seat away.

"Surely you're not going to just sit here and wait for them to defame you like this?" Minerva asked now, turning to stare at him with a dangerous glare.

"Of course not," he muttered.

"Well, then, you'd best tell Albus."

"Like Trelawney did? I think not."

"Severus," Minerva said in a threatening tone, "if you don't think Albus can help then who on Earth will?"

Severus smiled grimly. It appeared he was going to have to cancel his afternoon classes.

Chapter Text

The threat Dolores Umbridge posed over his position as a teacher and spy loomed over Severus, though he cared very little for the former than the latter. Suspension would give him some time away from the silly children, which admittedly tempted him a little too much. But, as happy as it would make him to be relieved of his burden as a teacher, being put on probation would mean he might not have the opportunity to pass information to Dumbledore as he frequently did now. Umbridge was sure to monitor him closely, and that was if he was even allowed to stay in the vicinity of the castle as Trelawney. He was certain Umbridge wouldn't lose to the headmaster's whims, not a second time anyway. In the end, the only motivation he had to put an end to this probation was the damage it would impose on his position as a valuable and reliable spy.

And it was for this very reason why he was rushing, at full-speed, towards the gate and then to Malfoy Manor. Dumbledore was powerful enough to sway the Ministry but his political capabilities had dwindled since Diggory's death. And if there was anyone in the world with enough power to influence the Ministry, it was Lucius Malfoy. Lucius had slowly sneaked his way into the ranks of the higher authorities, having an esteemed position as governor of the school board and the Ministry. Severus was not one for sentiments but he was often glad for his close ties with Lucius and Narcissa. He wasn't sure if he could all Lucius a friend, he couldn't really call anyone that but the man was as close as it came to have one. Even in their schooldays Lucius had actively defended him from bullies and had continued to keep in touch long after leaving Hogwarts. He remembered, with small fondness, how Lucius had sent Narcissa to accompany him to his mother's funeral.

The couple had practically forced him to return to their Manor, and urged him to stay as long as he liked. Sever had refused, of course, for he couldn't see himself living as lavishly as they did. There was also the fact that neither Lucius nor Narcissa's parents would approve the presence of an unknown half-blood like him in their home. But he had been grateful, nonetheless. He believed his personal bias towards Draco was born out of his affection for his parents.

Severus apparated directly to the entrance of the Manor. He was one of very few who were given this sort of privilege (the rest normally had to wait in the exterior until they had been verified) given his close history with Lucius. He strode towards the large doors, throwing them open as he went.

"Lucius," he called, his voice echoing throughout the grand but hollow hallway. 

"Severus!"

He turned, just in time as Narcissa flung herself into his arms, her small figure barely reaching his shoulders. Severus stood there stiffly, arms extended out awkwardly as though he was not sure what to do with them. With a silvery laugh, she pulled away unfazed by his lack of reaction. He gave her a stiff nod that she waved away.

"Severus," she said beaming, "I was just telling Lucius the day before-you never come around anymore! It's been, what, two years since you were here last?" she chided playfully, hands on her hips as she spoke.

“I apologize, Narcissa,” he said curtly, with a small bow, “the castle has been in a bit of a bind lately-ever since Black broke out of Azkaban and the return of the Dark Lord, of course. Dumbledore's been keeping his staff on a leash...I suspect he means to avoid any...premature....deaths like the Diggory boy."

Narcissa looked away, then. Severus swallowed as he thought of what to say next.

"But I do hope you and Lucius have been doing alright? I've seen him now and then at meetings but we rarely have time to catch up."

"He's fine! But I've missed you! I fear I'll lose my mind being stuck here all day-you used to keep me company with your amusing stories from Hogwarts but I suppose you're rather too grown for that now?"

Severus could only offer her a small but genuine smile. She was a beautiful woman, that he couldn't deny. And intelligent, too. Lucius was very fortunate to have her but Severus often felt that the man neglected his wife over his duties to the Dark Lord and the Ministry. He knew her enthusiasm in talking to him was not because she personally enjoyed his company, but rather out of wanting to rid herself of the loneliness that came from her isolation. He wasn't as close to her now as he had been years ago when he'd first started teaching, but she had told him a thing or two about being married to a man of high regard and status as Lucius Malfoy. She had had to make sacrifices, and that included being the head of the house whenever he was away. She rarely left, especially out of fear that she may receive unwarranted visits from Aurors...or Arthur Weasley.

"I wish I could stay longer, Narcissa. But I'm afraid I'm here for business."

He watched her face fall, the excitement slowly slipping away from her features.

"Oh,” was all she said.

”Yes,” he said in a regretful tone, “is Lucius around?”

Narcissa’s brows furrowed as she raised her arms to cross them over her chest.

”He won’t be home until tomorrow, I’m afraid. The Minister’s called for his services...something about giants, I think it was? He rushed off before I could get a word in."

”Ah, I see.”

”And why, may I ask, are you looking for my husband?”

Severus hesitated. She stared curiously as he removed the letter from his robes and handed it to her.

”I’ve been issued a letter of probation. The ministry finds my previous associations with the Death Eaters an irredeemable quality after fifteen years of service, I'm afraid. The investigation begins tomorrow, I presume, once Dolores Umbridge returns to Hogwarts."

”But that’s ridiculous!” Narcissa scoffed, pulling open to read the letter.

Severus snorted.

”Hardly so. After appointing a werewolf and a murderer, I could hardly blame them for looking into our backgrounds. My only worry is that it may affect my infiltration on the Order. If I am to be removed from the school, I think Dumbledore may forego my use as a spy."

Narcissa frowned once more as she held out the letter to him.

”We can’t wait for Lucius to return, that’ll take too long. I’ll write in to the Minister on behalf of Lucius. If they receive it this evening, it will be retracted come tomorrow morning I think.”

Severus gaped at her. He was rarely one to be caught off guard but his reaction was forgivable only because of Narcissa's sudden response.

”You…you can do that?” he asked.

Narcissa laughed.

"I'm not entirely as worthless as you may believe me to be, you know, Severus. There is a reason I am the ward of the Manor. Any urgent letters that need to be sent are placed within my jurisdiction. Surely you do not think Lucius has time to address mortal concerns such as these, not when he answers to the Dark Lord so frequently these days?"

"No, no-I-believe me, Narcissa, it was not in my intention to insult you. You are an extremely capable witch, and an extraordinary woman. I was just surprised-"

He spluttered, uncomfortable under her scrutinizing gaze. As he squirmed to find the right words to appease the woman, her lips twitched and broke into a wide grin.

"Oh, relax, Severus! I was only teasing! Why don't you head on home, and leave me to craft your letter to the Ministry?"

Severus relaxed and returned her smile with one of his own. She reached over to right his cloak though there was nothing wrong with it. They stood there for a moment, staring at each other, unsure of what to say.

"Narcissa, you must allow me to thank you for the favor," he said quietly. 

"Hush, now, there's no need for any of that. There is nothing you could offer which I do not already have, Severus. We're friends, and this is a friend helping another friend out, nothing more."

With that, she reached over to take his hand in hers, his fingers twitching at the contact. Narcissa lifted his hand so that it hovered inches away from her chest, and she leaned over to place a soft kiss on his knuckles. Severus let out a breathy noise, her sudden boldness shattering his defenses. He looked at her, wide-eyed and confused.

"There is something I've been meaning to talk to you about, Severus, it's partly why I've been trying to get you to come over for a while now," she whispered, her hold on his hand never faltering. Severus nodded, urging her to speak.

"It-it's about Draco....oh, Severus, you don't think the Dark Lord will want Draco to be a part of all this, do you?" she exclaimed, sounding suddenly deranged as she stepped closer towards him.

Severus flinched at the closeness but continued to stare down at her sad, greyish eyes.

"I cannot say," he said finally, in a defeated tone. Opposite him, Narcissa's shoulders drooped as she let out a choked cry.

"Then you are saying there is a chance? Severus, he's just a boy-surely you don't think he is ready to put his life at risk-?"

"What I or you think does not matter. If the Dark Lord does want the boy to take the Mark, Narcissa, he will ask. And if Draco has any sense about him at all, he will comply," he said, coldly. 

"He will not be able to survive...Draco is not ready...as if I don't worry about Lucius enough already..."

Hearing this, Severus pulled away from Narcissa's grasp and gently held the sides of her arms. He gave her a light shake.

"Listen to me, Narcissa," he said gruffly, "you do not have to worry about Lucius. He is an accomplished wizard and the Dark Lord favors him over the rest of us. And if that is not enough, then I swear to you, I will do my best to keep an eye on him."

"And Draco?"

"He is still too young and inexperienced to become a Death Eater. If the Dark Lord asks for my advice, I shall advise against it."

Narcissa's head crashed against his chest and he felt her tremble. Instincts overtook him as his arms moved to place themselves over her figure, wrapping it tight against him. She was incredibly warm, he thought. Her warmth was seeping into his own skin, melting the years of solitude he had built around him with minimal effort. He could feel his own heartbeat pounding against his chest and wondered if she could hear it too. He did not know why but he did not want this to end. It had been so long since he had had contact with another being that it sparked that needing greed in him.

"Narcissa," he said breathily, "I should return soon."

She broke away, looking up at him once more. He hoped that he did not look as bothered as he felt, and that she hadn't noticed the slight flush in his face. With a watery smile, she lifted her fingers to brush against his forehead, pushing a strand of rebellious hair that had fallen across his forehead.

"Sometimes I forget how much you've grown," Narcissa said, "you're not the same little boy I met from Spinner's End, are you?"

Severus scowled.

"I can't afford to be him, not when we are at war."

"Hmm, but I do miss him," she replied nonchalantly. Severus stared at her, stricken by her response.

"I should leave," he repeated once more, missing the contact of her skin when she folded her arms once more.

"I suppose," Narcissa said, as the two of them began their walk towards the door.

"You'll send my regards to Lucius, I hope?"

"Of course, Severus. And you'll try to visit more?"

He gave her another small bow.

"I shall try my best to. You, ah, you do not need to worry about our conversation-about Draco. But I warn that you do not speak about this anyone else. I fear they may not take it as lightly as I have, Narcissa."

She gave a solemn nod.

"I wouldn't dream of telling anyone else but you, Severus. You are the only one I trust."

Severus felt a small flutter at her words. Wanting to escape her presence, he said nothing else as he walked out. He did not even wait until he had reached the garden to apparate back home.

Chapter Text

It was Wednesday evening, and Harry was laying on Snape's floor, breathing in the smell of his own sweat and helplessness. He panted slightly, stomach churning at the memories he'd been forced to relive by the man that loomed over him now. This was revenge, Harry thought, for what had happened with Sirius the other night. Snape couldn't touch Sirius, not with Dumbledore watching him so Harry supposed he was content with tormenting the only person he was allowed to at the moment. The lesson had started off hostile with his professor as Harry was thrown around multiple times by the Legilimens spell before he could even react. The fourth time Harry had been so vulnerable that when the spell struck him square in the chest, he felt a surge of new memories streaming out into the open;

Sirius kneeled over him and ruffled his hair with a grin while Lily nagged Harry's father behind them. Harry was in Lily's arms, watching in wonderment as Lupin presented him a miniature, glowing orb. An older red-haired woman cooed fondly at him, offering him a motherly expression not unlike Mrs. Weasley's. Aunt Petunia was staring down at him tearfully. James kissed Harry's forehead, at the exact spot his scar was now. His mother was screaming, begging Voldemort to spare her only child as he laughed coldly at her. Harry heard the snide voice hiss at her, telling her to step aside but she refused. A flash of familiar green light and his mother's brilliant green eyes were staring up at him, a single tear painted her lifeless feature as she lay there. And then they were back in Snape's office.

"Get up, Potter," Snape said harshly.

Harry curled his fists by his sides as he forced himself to stand up, chest heaving from what he had seen. There was always a new detail to be found, another horrible truth to add to the discovery of his parents' deaths. It never failed to unnerve him to realize that he had had a life before Voldemort, and though brief it had been an extremely happy one. Occlumency lessons were awful enough having to learn them with Snape but being forced to remember these forgotten memories always left him wanting more. He longed for the happiness he had been granted when his parents had been alive but most of all, he longed to see them again, whole and alive. 

They're dead, Harry said to himself, they're dead and they can't come back so stop it.

It wouldn't do to be overcome with emotions, especially not now when Snape was staring down at him. Harry grit his teeth and forced himself to look at Snape, preparing for what snide comments the man would have this time. He had failed yet again, Snape would say, and that Dumbledore had been wasting his time putting faith in him. As he looked into the dark pair of eyes, he was surprised to see his usually composed Potions professor appear quite shaken. He was paler than usual, expression slack as though he were about to be sick himself. Harry watched as Snape slowly lowered his wand and took a step back from Harry. He turned away from Harry as if to quietly regain his composure.

"That memory, Potter," he said softly, his back still to Harry, "was it real?"

"Which one?" Harry asked, feeling his throat dry up a little.

"The last one."

"The one where he killed my mother? I think so. I don't remember it being as detailed as that but I suppose I'd forgotten," he replied with a weak shrug of his shoulder.

Snape turned around, contemplating the information distractedly. His reaction peaked Harry's interest, the man was so engrossed in his own thoughts that Harry wondered if he'd forgotten he was there at all. Harry awkwardly cleared his throat and Snape's eyes flew to him, wide and uncertain.

"Er, sir-?"

"She was...very….brave."

Harry paused, he had been so used to hearing nothing but insults and taunts from the man that he took a moment to assess what Snape had said. He wondered if it was a jab at his mother's death but Snape appeared to the most genuine he had ever seen him to be.

"Yes," Harry whispered, "both of them were."

Snape blinked at him and then his lips curled into a sideways sneer.

"As are all wizards and witches that stood up to the Dark Lord," Snape said, fixing Harry with a stern look now, "but that does not grant you the ability to be treated any differently. Your parents' deaths do not make you any more special than the rest of us, is that clear, Potter?"

"Right," Harry replied with slight indignance.

Snape eyed him warily, and Harry gripped his wand behind his back, ready this time for his teacher's next unwarranted attack.

"Legilimens!"

"Protego!"

Harry had no intention of ever using that spell again, not after Snape had warned him against it but he felt a sort of triumphant joy in knowing he would break into his teacher's memories again. It was not as though Snape could loathe him any more than he already could, and Harry could always blame it as carelessness and plain stupidity. If anything, he could even learn an information or two about the Order's movements.

Harry was now immersed in hundreds of memories, the pictures danced around him wildly as he tried to glimpse into the brief images constructing and de-constructing before him. Snape must have prepared for this, he had somehow sealed away a lot of his memories. Harry fought harder against the barrier, pushing through them. He saw a teenage Snape, tall and lanky and awkward, hurrying towards the courtyard with a silly smile on his face. A slightly older version of him now stood against the door, ears pinned to the keyhole as he listened intently. The same Snape was kneeling atop a hill, hands wringing wildly as a booming voice carried across-

"ENOUGH!"

Harry was back in Snape's office. Snape was holding Harry by the collar, pushing him up against the wall. Harry's breath caught in his throat as Snape bent down, baring his teeth.

"I thought I told you not to use that spell again, Potter?" he growled.

"You didn't give me time to think!" Harry argued back.

Snape released him roughly and Harry's knees gave away as he fell to the floor. Snape paced around his office. He was extremely angry now.

"Time? Time? Do you think the Dark Lord will give you time?"

"I wouldn't know-I haven't seen him since he killed Cedric!"

"This is not the time for cheek, Potter! Months spent-months-and you are nowhere close to mastering Occlumency! I told Dumbledore you were far too weak and arrogant-"

"It's not my fault! Sirius was right-"

"-oh, yes, Potter, do tell me what Black was right about. What did he say? That you were a special, perfect little boy-"

"-of course not-"

"-because you are neither special nor perfect, Potter. You can run along to that felon godfather of yours and tell him I shall not treat you-"

"-that's rich coming from a Death Eater."

Snape stopped in his tracks, eyes glinting murderously. Harry rolled his eyes inwardly at his own recklessness. He wondered if Snape would actually kill him this time.

"You-"

Whatever Snape had intended to say died in his throat as a set of loud knocks accompanied the dangerous silence between the two of them. Snape turned quickly, puzzled. He pointed to Harry with a long, pale finger, ushering him to hide by the cupboards. Harry watched from his hiding place as Snape strode towards the door. 

"Ah, Professor Umbridge, I see you have returned safe and sound from your...travels," Harry heard Snape say in a forced voice.

"Yes, Snape. You received my letter I presume?"

Harry was now very interested in knowing what it was that Umbridge had sent him. He leaned forward.

Their voices had suddenly become lower as they conversed. He thought he heard Umbridge mention Lucius Malfoy and something about an investigation.

"Might I make you an offer?" Umbridge said loudly and Harry saw Snape incline his head towards her. He was much taller than her, and formidable looking as he stared down her stout figure.

As Harry stretched forward to hear them better, his feet slipped and his arm went swinging into the shelf behind him. His hand slammed against a jar and he watched in horror as it fell and shattered onto the floor. Harry cursed under his breath and swung back in case Umbridge had heard.

He waited with bated breath as Umbridge and Snape carried on with their conversation. A moment later he heard Snape thank Umbridge for her time and the door closed with a half-aggressive slam.

Harry stepped out from hiding, casting Snape an apologetic look as the man stared at the slimy trail the thing in the jar had left behind on his office floor.

"Potter," Snape said gruffly.

"Yes, sir?" Harry asked innocently.

"Are you and your friends holding secret  meetings around the castle?"

Harry's mouth flew open, caught off guard by Snape's sudden inquisition. He tried to play it off cool but it was too late. Snape had caught him now.

"When Dolores Umbridge suggested that you might be conducting illegal operations around the castle, I told her you wouldn't be stupid enough to pull something like that…especially when the Ministry  has been monitoring your every move. But I expect it is my fault once more to give you more credit than is due. When did this nonsense start?”

Harry felt Snape's eyes boring into his and he quickly looked away.

"It's just for homework and stuff," he lied, "we just help each other out."

"Don't lie to me," Snape said silkily, "if you'd been getting help on your homework, then why, Potter, have you been receiving D's on nearly all of your Potions homework?"

Harry did not have an answer. 

"Do not make me ask again, Potter."

"A few weeks ago. Umbridge hasn't been teaching us anything in Defense class and with Vold (Snape's eyes narrowed)-with you-know-who out there-I just thought it'd be good to have some practice. I didn't think anyone else would have been interested..."

Snape's lip quivered as he regarded Harry with a cold expression.

"So," he said with a sickening smile, "Dumbledore spends his waking moment ensuring no harm falls upon precious Potter and what does Potter do? He goes around orchestrating illegal fighting clubs that not only is known to the enemy but is widely publicized to the entire student body! Oh, it shall give me immense pleasure to report this to the headmaster, believe you me, Potter."

"I'm just trying to help-"

"Help who, Potter? Perhaps you feel as trapped as your dear godfather, yes, you are certainly taking after his irresponsible behavior. Do you not understand Potter the risks you pose with your silly childish behavior? Do you not stop to think that perhaps your little training club might pose a threat to Umbridge and the Ministry? They are already doing all in their power to remove Dumbledore as headmaster, and here you are giving them the key-"

"-that's the last thing I want-"

"-you stupid boy! Your intentions do not matter! All they need is one excuse to cast him out of Hogwarts, or worse, lock him away in Azkaban where he won't do any more damage. And if that happens, all will be lost! The Dark Lord shall easily take over the castle if Dumbledore is not there to protect it!" Snape shouted.

Harry shook his head, weakly. As much as he hated Snape, he was right. He had been so foolish, pretending to be the hero and teaching everyone to defend themselves, but it was now putting Dumbledore's position at risk. Harry cursed himself, head pointed towards the ground in shame. 

"You will cease all activities, is that clear? Umbridge is now fully aware of your movements and I suspect there is a traitor among you that is leaking information to her. Thus far she is yet to have any solid proof and it better remain that way. Do you understand, Potter?"

Harry nodded once.

"Yes, sir."

"I will see you next week, Potter. Practice shutting out your emotions…I will not be so forgiving next time. And remember what I’ve told you. If I or anyone else so much as catches a whiff of you and your underground movements, I shall personally see to it that you are expelled. Now, get out.”

With nothing left to be said, Harry wearily reached for his bag that had fallen behind Snape’s desk and trudged back to Ron and Hermione with a heavy heart.

Chapter Text

The Dark Lord was angry. It had been months and yet not a single progress had been made to secure the prophecy. None of his Death Eaters had managed to infiltrate the Ministry, not even with Lucius Malfoy's power, and steal it away. The problem was not so much getting into the Department of Mysteries so much as getting through the Order of the Phoenix first. Dumbledore had switched tactics; he had placed only the most skilled wizards and witches to guard the Hall of Prophecies while the Dark Lord only risked his less-abled fighters. He was saving for the bigger war that would come whether or not the prophecy was heard.

Plenty of his servants had paid for their failures this time, some of them with their own lives. Severus knew it was only a matter of time before he was summoned before the Dark Lord. It had been a while since he had had anything noteworthy to report to his Master of his enemy. Dumbledore had asked Severus to stall, and stall he had, but the moment had come now where his loyalty to the Dark Lord would be tested once more.

He arrived at the Riddle House, now blanketed by an Invisibility charm of some sort, nerves twisting and jumping about in him. Just another day where he did not know if he would live to see home again. He thought briefly of the people that waited there. Dumbledore would be in his study, unaware that the Dark Lord had summoned him-it had been unannounced and Severus hadn't had enough time to alert the headmaster. He thought of the Order of the Phoenix and how if he died, the last memory they'd have of him was the night he'd brawled Black on the filthy floor of his mother's house. He hadn't even apologized to Molly for his abrasive behavior. He snorted, knowing full well it did not matter what they thought of him; his death was not one they would ever mourn for. He was just a means to an end, after all. With that cheerful little thought hanging over his head, Severus moved to greet the ominous figure in front of him.

"Snape, you're early," Yaxley said, stepping aside to let Severus through the hinging gate.

The iron rungs looked as though they might fall out anytime, but he doubted the Dark Lord cared about the state of his home falling apart. It was just a place he could hole away for now, bide his time-the Dark Lord probably did not know that Severus knew who this house belonged to. Dumbledore had figured it out immediately based on his mere description alone, and had told him that the mansion had once belonged to the Dark Lord's Muggle father, Tom Riddle Sr., a man who had discarded his wife and child for pride, wealth and heirloom. Severus supposed that there were worse things Riddle Sr. could have done, he thought he'd have been pleased to have his own father run out on him and leave his mother and him to be alone in peace. They'd have been a lot happier if he had run out on them as the Dark Lord's own father had done.

"He is in?" Severus asked though he already knew the answer. He just wanted to keep talking. He could feel the way his heart pounded against his chest, begging him to turn back and return to the castle.

"Always is."

"He doesn't normally summon me in this time-not unless it is urgent," Severus said aloud, hoping to get some answers.

Yaxley cleared his throat, evidently uncomfortable with Severus' prying questions.

"I think it's best if you speak to him directly."

That was all the other man would say on the matter. They walked in silence, through the overgrown garden and dried out fountain and broken statues, until they arrived at the entrance of the house. Yaxley moved his head towards the door, urging him to step in. Severus entered with bated breath, hearing the door close shut behind him with an awful creak. He withdrew his wand, shining a dim light that guided him to where he knew the Dark Lord waited.

His hand rested against the rusty handle, pausing as he forced himself to clear his thoughts. He couldn't afford to feel anything now. If the Dark Lord even caught a whiff of fear from him...

"Severus...." a cold voice echoed from inside of the room.

His heart seized up once more at the sound. With no hesitation this time, he pushed the door open, stepping into the small trail of light in the abandoned living room of the manor. The dining table that stood in the middle had been pushed to the side, the chairs strewn about the place. A singular chair had been dragged to the end of the room, and on it sat the Dark Lord, in his usual black robes and red snake-like eyes.

"You hastened your arrival and yet there you show hesitation in your greeting…are you unhappy that I have called upon you, Severus?” the Dark Lord hissed, though his expression was one of calmness. Severus walked towards him in quick strides, bowing as he neared his now-master.

"It is an honor, my Lord, that you seek me with such urgency. If my behavior has upset you, I apologize, my Lord. I hope you are well."

"Stand, Severus. Do you have anything to report?" he asked.

Severus shook his head, bowing his head once more.

"Nothing for now, my Lord. The Order has ceased all meetings since Dolores Umbridge's arrival at Hogwarts. She is keen on the suspension of Albus Dumbledore as Headmaster of the school and has not let him out of her eyesight since her return from the Ministry. She suspects that perhaps he is breeding a secret army here at Hogwarts itself, my Lord. He has refused to put any other Order members at risk, mine included."

He made sure to include only important information that might ease the Dark Lord. The other man was not a fan of those that brought him far-fetched stories with no point to them. He hoped this was enough to grant him a ticket back to Hogwarts alive.

"I see...so you are telling me, you have no information that could help us?"

The Dark Lord was staring at him now. Severus wracked his mind for anything that could help him, though there was very little he could give away. In fact, there was nothing to even say. He had been honest when he'd said Dumbledore hadn't told him anything new about the Order or their movements.

"I'm afraid not, my Lord."

There was a strained silence that fell upon both men in the room. The Dark Lord stood, his robes scattering around him noiselessly. Severus watched as the other man paced around him, deep in thought. He circled Severus several times though no words fell from his mouth. Only a minute or two later did he finally look up with a rather frightening smile.

"Sometimes I wonder, Severus," he said though added nothing more.

"Wonder...what, my Lord?"

"You joined me at the age of seventeen, did you not?"

"Yes, my Lord."

"But you only took my Mark when you were-what-nineteen?"

"Yes, my Lord," said Severus again.

The Dark Lord nodded to himself before pacing once more. Inside his chest, Severus' heart was threatening to leap out of his mouth as he forced himself to remain steady. After all those lessons and insults to Potter, Severus was not going to fall back on his own advice. He was a far stronger Occlumens than Potter, and if he were truly to die today, he would die without ever revealing his true allegiance.

"Tell me, Severus, how long have you served Albus Dumbledore?"

Severus inhaled sharply as the Dark Lord smiled once more.

"F-fourteen years, my Lord."

"Since my initial downfall, then," the Dark Lord corrected. Severus gave a swift nod. There was no point in trying to lie now. The Dark Lord wanted answers and he would give them as required.

"I keep convincing myself that you are true to our cause...true to me..."

"I am, my Lord," Severus replied with conviction, his left hand twitching in response. But the Dark Lord paid him no mind.

"But there are moments...moments where I doubt my own judgement. At the age of seventeen, you achieved remarkable feats...though they were no much greater than my own at that age. Skilled wizard, a true passion for the Dark Arts...but it took you two years to be fully convinced you wished to serve me. Why is that?"

The Dark Lord was staring directly into him now and Severus knew what was coming. He braced himself as he felt a stabbing pain through his left temple and into his brain. The Dark Lord was in his mind, searching for any signs of treachery. He couldn't help it. He thought of the only thing he could.

Severus was standing in the Malfoys’ kitchen, towering over Narcissa as she moved to adjust his cravat. His giddiness was dampened, however, by the woman’s somber expression. 

“Years of waiting…and it’s finally here! This is it, Narcissa-! I’m finally taking the Mark,” he said, beaming. Narcissa offered him only a small smile.

“Is something wrong?” Severus asked the blonde and watched as her expression became twisted.

"You fool," she whispered in a low mutter.

Just as quickly as the Dark Lord had entered his mind, he exited, though Severus did not know nor understand why.

"You are diverting me, Severus," he said in a high and menacing voice.

Severus dropped to his knees quickly, thinking of ways to appease the mind of his disturbed master.

"I would never dream of it, my Lord," he whispered frantically, "I am loyal to you and only you. My delay in joining you was not due to uncertainty or lack of confidence in your cause but-but my own stupidity and cowardice, my Lord. I was a fool...I was not ready to die..."

"So you thought becoming a Death Eater would only end in your own death and nothing more?"

"It was, I admit, foolish of me but I was foolish...I was tempted by childish dreams and halted by own weakness, my Lord. I did not think I was strong enough to be in a presence as great as yours."

"But you speak only mere words, Severus! Good though you are with words, how will I ever know you speak the truth?"

The Dark Lord did not seem angry but rather frustrated. It was clear that he had been doubting Severus' loyalty for a while now and has finally decided to put him to, what Severus thought, was his final test. He remained in his kneeling position as he looked up to meet Lord Voldemort's gaze. The man that had taken away everything he had ever cared about.

"I do all of this for you, my Lord. Should you wish it, I shall leave Hogwarts and join you at your side. For you, my Lord, I am prepared to kill, torture, and destroy everything in my path. You need only ask," he said with a steady voice though his body trembled from the weight of his words.

"And what of your fear of Death? Do you know better now?" the Dark Lord asked piercingly. Severus closed his eyes.

"I have no fear of Death," he whispered, "I am but a servant to the Darkness and serve no man but you, my Lord."

The two men fell silent as the last glow of light from the outside dimmed out, and the room was submerged in sudden darkness. Severus' labored breathing bounced through the room, echoing strangely in the dark. The Dark Lord let out a small noise.

"I have a request then...no, a command for you, Severus."

Severus looked up, reaching to grasp the Dark Lord's hand. The Dark Lord allowed him, peering down at him with a curious expression. Severus moved to place the other man's hand against his temple. The Dark Lord's skin was cold, but no colder than the skin of a man who awaited his master's final judgement-or, execution.

"Anything," he said softly, "anything you ask, my Lord."

"You say this Ministry woman intends to remove Dumbledore from Hogwarts?"

He nodded fervently.

"You will do all you can to make her mission a success. The only reason Hogwarts has lasted as long as it has is because of Dumbledore. If he is no longer present within those walls, the castle will fall to ruins. That shall make it all the more easier for the taking."

Severus paled slightly.

"My-my Lord, does that mean you intend to take over Hogwarts?" he asked slowly.

The Dark Lord turned away from him.

"The mission remains the same. I require the prophecy. But I suspect Dumbledore's intrusion is what has been holding us back all this time. Seeing as he no longer feels it necessary to confide in you or the other Order members, he is no longer an important player in this game. Help that woman. Ruin his name, send him to Azkaban-destroy him, if you must. Your goal is clear: Albus Dumbledore is not to remain at Hogwarts any longer."

Severus stood up and gave a bow.

"You have disappointed me long enough, Severus Snape. When the rest came to me and begged for me to be rid of you, I came to your defense. When they spread tales of your treachery, it was I who silenced them. Do you know what the others call you behind your back Severus? Dumbledore's little lapdog is what they say," the Dark Lord jeered, "and yet I refused to partake in it. I trusted your loyalty when no one else would have. Do not prove me wrong. If you fail this task, I fear I shall lost what little tolerance I have left for you. I have forgiven you time and again when very few are granted that gift so take it as it is. When the time comes, do not say I have not been lenient with you."

"Yes, my Lord."

"Go. Your headmaster awaits."

Far away from the Riddle House, in the in the Gryffindor boys' dorm room, Harry Potter awoke in his four-poster bed with a sharp gasp.

He had to tell Dumbledore.

Chapter Text

All was calm, and yet there was a strained tension between Harry and Dumbledore. The usual warmth and comfort Dumbledore's office provided was no longer present. Harry had raced to the older man, and begged the gargoyle guarding the entrance to let him in, that it was urgent. It hadn't allowed him of course, but Dumbledore had been awake and had granted Harry the access he had needed. With no time to lose, he had explained to Dumbledore everything he had seen and heard in his dream. Dumbledore had listened of course, though he gave Harry no indication that the news he delivered was as severe as Harry believed it to be.

In his mind, this was the only evidence needed to frame Snape as the villain everyone but Dumbledore believed him to be. Voldemort had commanded Snape to have Dumbledore removed from the castle, and Snape had agreed. This was proof that Snape's allegiance lay with Voldemort, that he would do anything-even kill-for his master. And yet Dumbledore looked past Harry and at Fawkes who stood perched in his usual corner. He hadn't said a word, not against nor in defense of Snape, which Harry though meant all was not lost yet. He just had to convince him.

"Sir?" Harry breathed pitifully at last. Dumbledore turned to him but Harry could feel his gaze was unfocused. He didn't look him in the eye which only made him all the more annoyed.

Dumbledore exhaled as if he could hear Harry's overbearing thoughts out loud.

"You are sure that is what you saw, Harry? That Voldemort wants me out of Hogwarts?"

Harry nodded before speaking, "Yes, but sir, the way he said it...it's like he wanted Snape to...er-forcibly do it or something."

"Professor Snape, Harry," Dumbledore corrected, "and that is only one interpretation of it."

"What else could he have meant, sir?"

"I do not yet know. I expect Severus will discuss it with me soon enough. I suggest you put it out of your mind for now, Harry, and head back to bed-"

"But Professor Dumbledore-sir, I know what I saw and Snape was definitely-"

Dumbledore stood up, throwing Harry a stern glance.

"I have said this many times, especially to you, Harry. I trust Severus Snape. Whatever you saw and heard...he did so as a spy. Our spy, might I add. I am sure I do not have to tell you of the risks he takes for you, me and the Order? You remember what Lord Voldemort did to him the last time?"

Harry forced himself to remain steady, white knuckles threatening to fly out and land across Dumbledore's face. He did not know where this anger was coming from but he had to swell it down before he lost control. Things were not going as he had expected to, and truth be told, part of him knew that Dumbledore wouldn't believe him. He never did when it came to Snape. He itched to know what it was that Snape had done to earn his trust so but Dumbledore wouldn't answer. If he couldn't even share it with the rest of the Order of the Phoenix, why would he share it with Harry?

"I suggest you put this out of your mind, Harry. I admit I am severely disappointed that you have once again allowed yourself to wander into the inner minds of Voldemort, especially when Professor Snape has been working extremely hard to teach you Occlumency all year..."

"You think he teaches me? All he does is throw me down and call me names! If you want me to learn that stuff so bad, why don't you teach me yourself, Professor?" Harry shouted, his temper rising once more. He had jumped to his feet, and realized that his hand was clenched around his wand. Dumbledore turned away.

"No, it cannot be me."

"But...why?" Harry asked desperately. If he could just convince Dumbledore...

"You will get all of the answers you seek, Harry, I promise you that. But not yet...you are not ready..."

"I-"

Harry and Dumbledore whirled round at the commotion outside. Harry craned his neck towards the door. More shouts ensued from the other side. Dumbledore swept past Harry, pointing to Harry's Invisibility Cloak that lay draped on the seat next to him.

"Put in on, quickly. If it is Dolores outside and she catches you here, Harry, I'm afraid that will be goodbye for both of us. Hide in the corner and do not speak a word, is that clear?" Dumbledore ordered gruffly. 

Harry nodded as he threw the cloak over himself. He walked behind Dumbledore's desk and pressed himself against the shelf, anticipating for what would come. Above him, the Sorting Hat gave a snorted laugh. Dumbledore moved towards the door, wand aimed and alert. He threw it open and peered down below and then-

"Severus?"

Harry looked up in surprise. He heard, what was probably Snape, yell something out to Dumbledore.

"Hurry on up now. It's Dolores' night to patrol the corridors tonight and I've had enough trespassers asking to be let in at this time of the night..."

Harry watched with bated breath as Dumbledore returned to his seat, and as he passed by Harry he gave a warning shake of his head which was to mean that Harry remained quiet. Behind him, the familiar sallow-faced Snape appeared though he looked slightly disheveled. He strode in and settled on the very chair Harry had occupied only moments ago and cleared his throat. Dumbledore watched Snape with a curious expression.

Harry then caught a strange but familiar whiff in the air. He scrunched his nose as he wracked his brains to remember where he'd smelled that scent before. Opposite him, Snape leaned forward with a threatening glare directed towards Dumbledore.

"He summoned you tonight?" Dumbledore asked and Snape nodded.

"I'd have alerted you earlier, of course, but..." Snape drawled, eyes closing momentarily before they flipped open again. Dumbledore's expression twitched with amusement though Harry did not know what he found so funny at the moment. 

"Severus," Dumbledore said carefully, "how much have you had to drink?"

Snape gave a snort and widened his eyes, as if it was an incredible effort to keep it open. He leaned forwards and Dumbledore moved back slightly, that strange smell incriminating the air once more.

"Smoking again too, I take it?"

At this, Snape moved his hand inside of his robes. Harry started, worried he might be taking his wand out to attack Dumbledore but to his surprise, Snape removed a small red box. It was even more of a surprise when Harry recognized it. It was the same cigarette carton one of Dudley's friends used to smoke. In fact, it was the very same type Dudley and his mates had threatened to make holes onto Harry's face with a few months ago. Harry raised his eyebrows in surprise. He hadn't expected any Hogwarts professor, especially Snape, to be so in-tune with Muggle culture. Did that mean wizards depended on Muggle cigarettes?

"Severus," Dumbledore said in a disapproving tone but Snape wagged a finger at him.

"I don't need to hear how these are going to kill me right now, Dumbledore. I am, as they say, quite finished-with or without these cigarettes," he said with a dejected sigh, cradling his head in his arms over Dumbledore's desk.

"It was that bad?" Dumbledore prodded while Harry forced himself to maintain his composure. 

This was it, he thought. If Snape lied to Dumbledore about what had happened with Voldemort, then he'd know Snape was really on Voldemort's side. But if he told the truth...

"Severus?"

Snape raised his head and Harry just only saw how horrible he looked. His skin had dry patches on them, eyebags heavy as though he hadn't slept in weeks. He looked absolutely like a corpse, and would look even more so if he closed his eyes and lay there. As Harry pressed himself further into Dumbledore's shelf, Snape sat up, his hands tugging at his thin, greasy hair forcefully.

"He wants you out! He thinks he's just about to win and he wants you out, Dumbledore!"

Dumbledore smiled and glanced to where Harry stood, hidden. Harry scowled under his Invisibility Cloak. The man was very obviously gloating over the fact that he had been right...as he usually was...

Opposite him, Snape stared at Dumbledore in disbelief, disappointed by the lack of reaction in the news he had just broken to the man. Dumbledore leaned back in his chair and smiled again.

"So...he is confident that he will successfully obtain the prophecy? That is why he has shifted his focus to me and Hogwarts?"

"You-did you hear what I've just said-?"

"That Voldemort intends to have me removed from the castle, yes, I heard perfectly, Severus. But my question is-"

Snape brought a hand slamming onto the desk, the opened bottle of ink spilling over the parchments that lay spread out across the surface.

"YOU DON'T UNDERSTAND, DUMBLEDORE! HE WANTS YOU GONE-HE DOESN'T CARE HOW IT HAPPENS! IT DOESN'T MATTER TO YOU THAT HE MIGHT WANT YOU DEAD?" Snape bellowed.

Dead by your hands, Harry added quietly with a scornful look at Snape. Funny how he hadn't mentioned that fun bit of news to Dumbledore yet. Perhaps he wanted to see what Dumbledore would do first, to see how he could make this situation more helpful to Voldemort than the Order.

"Severus, you are being quite too loud," Dumbledore said calmly.

"Got that right!" yelled one of the portraits in response.

"I...headmaster, you don't understand..." Snape said in a softer tone now.

"I understood very clearly, Severus. You haven't answered my question yet."

Snape scoffed in protest but it was clear who was in charge of the conversation. Dumbledore watched Snape with a dark expression.

"He thinks you're the reason for their failures. The Dark Lord believes without your interruption...the Death Eaters will be able to secure the prophecy."

There it was again...that word...prophecy. Voldemort had mentioned it. Dumbledore had said it too, even before Harry had even brought it up. And now Snape was saying the same thing. He had figured it out an hour ago that the prophecy was the thing Voldemort was seeking from the Ministry. But what was it? Was it some kind of magical object? And if it was, why hadn't the Order used it to beat Voldemort already? The so-called weapon Mr. Weasley had almost lost his life over...the thing that had haunted Harry's dreams all this time.

"If Lord Voldemort believes my power do not extend beyond these walls, I am afraid he is very much mistaken," Dumbledore replied.

"Ha," Harry said softly. Snape however was unconvinced by Dumbledore's words.

"He expects me to do it," Snape confessed slowly, "that is his last demand from me."

Dumbledore raised an eyebrow.

"And after that?"

Snape drew a finger across his throat as Harry watched on with a horrified expression.

"He thinks he no longer needs a spy here at Hogwarts?" Dumbledore asked.

"Why would he? If he's got Hogwarts, he won't need me anymore."

"And he told you this directly?"

"Of course not! He is not a fool, Dumbledore...but neither am I. The last time he made such a request was when I overheard-"

"-I remember perfectly, Severus. But much like how your failure the last time did not earn you your death, I promise the same this time now."

Snape gave a loud snort. Dumbledore stood up and strode over to the window.

"Did he say specifically he wants you to kill me?" he asked as though it was just a casual order of business.

"No," Snape gaped, "no, but he assumes that is what I would do. Or might."

Dumbledore turned back to face Snape solemnly.

"Might?" he asked.

"I...assumed that this would mean my services with the Dark Lord would be...done," Snape finished hesitantly.

"On the contrary, Severus," said Dumbledore, "if anything, this is when you must appeal to him the most. Voldemort's seeming distrust in you isn't because he thinks you have betrayed him at all. It is in his nature to question everything, even those loyal to him. This is but another test to see if you prove yourself worthy as a spy. He will attempt to take over the school but there is plenty of time before that moment...yes, his priority lies elsewhere..."

Snape got to his feet, swaying slightly. 

"But-but then why does he want me to-?"

"It is as you said. He does not necessarily want me dead yet, I think. He may want me away so that it interferes our communication...especially with Harry. My fear, Severus, is that with me out of the way, he has full control over Harry."

Harry swallowed. So this was Voldemort's plan. It wasn't to kill Dumbledore or to get the weapon at all. It was for him. He wanted Harry. But why? Snape had the same question in mind.

"But why Potter? Why now when he has been after the prophecy all year?"

Dumbledore looked to where Harry stood.

"Harry has become an unknown risk. Voldemort has underestimated his abilities, and that includes Harry's new discovered talent...he worries what else the boy might learn especially with a wizard like me by his side. If I am not here to protect him, Harry is alone. Exposed. Vulnerable."

"He is that with or without you. He is incapable of accomplishing Occlumency-there are wizards and witches who would have easily achieved this in half the time it has taken Potter!"

Harry cursed Snape under his breath. Dumbledore's passive expression made it clear Snape's attitude towards Harry was a commonly-discussed thing in his office. The thought of Dumbledore learning of Harry's ineptitude from Snape only fueled his anger at the man even more. Perhaps it was because of Snape's opinion of Harry that he hadn't been allowed to be told anything about the Order and their plans...Dumbledore didn't think he was a good enough wizard.

"Harry is an extremely skilled wizard for a boy his age, I assure you, Severus. I have seen that boy perform magic beyond his years. You remember the fully-formed Patronus he conjured in his third year, don't you?"

"Then you think it is my fault," Snape said accusingly.

"I did not say that, nor will you hear me say it. I think his slow learning process is attached to everything the boy has got going on at the moment. He's being targeted by Umbridge...the number of detentions he is in...and the stress of what Voldemort might be up to is distracting him greatly. It would not help, as I am sure you will agree, if you were to...give him your usual treatment, Severus."

"My usual treatment is how I treat all the students. If you're asking me to give Potter a golden star every time he did not mess things up-"

"-I do not ask for that, Severus. I just want you to treat him like the person he is...a fifteen year old boy who has lost so much and received so little in return. If you cannot show him kindness, then show him respect, Severus, and see if he returns it."

Snape was quiet for a bit. He considered Dumbledore's word with an impatient tut, settling back on the chair with his arms crossed.

"I shall see...what I can do..."

Dumbledore appeared pleased with that response. Coming to behind where Snape sat, Dumbledore clapped his back.

"Excellent, Severus, now all that remains is for us to grant Voldemort his wish. I shall have to think of an appropriate way to have me removed from Hogwarts...come see me tomorrow at noon...I think I shall have devised a plan by then...", Dumbledore said as he paced around the room. 

Snape glanced at him for a moment then gave a stiff nod. He stood once more.

"If there is nothing else, I shall take my leave," he announced. Dumbledore did not say anything but watched as Snape's figure began to retreat. When he was at the door, Dumbledore called out:

"We still need to discuss what happened the other night with Sirius. Tomorrow."

Harry couldn't see Snape's face but knew he had rolled his eyes at that. He gave another curt nod before disappearing down the steps. In the corner where he stood, Harry breathed out loud and sunk to the floor. His legs had cramped from standing there too long. He pulled the cloak off him and looked to Dumbledore.

"I must ask for you not to come see me like this anymore, Harry," the older man said, peering through his spectacles, "if it had been anyone other than Severus tonight, you would have been in trouble."

"Yes, sir," Harry said clambering back to his feet.

"Here," Dumbledore said, urging Harry towards his desk. Harry looked on as Dumbledore produced a small vial from inside one of the drawers. He held it out to Harry, who took it in his own hands and examined it. The liquid was transparent, small bubbles forming at the tip.

"Er, what is it, sir?" he asked with caution.

"A potion...a memory-altering one, I'm afraid. The vision you saw of Professor Snape tonight is dangerous, Harry, to you and to him...as is what you have just witnessed tonight. If Voldemort were to see our discussion, then his fears about Severus would be made true. You understand, of course?"

Harry had no choice but to agree. How could he defy Dumbledore? He had to trust him.

"I won't remember anything? Sir?"

"Just what I take off of you. It won't affect you or your mind, Harry. It is perfectly safe."

Dumbledore's voice was assuring but Harry couldn't help but feel threatened. He hadn't ever been asked to do such a thing before. Part of him wanted to fling the vial to the furthest corner of the office so it would break and he wouldn't have to take it. But this was Dumbledore.

”Are you really going to leave Hogwarts, Professor?” he asked in one final desperate attempt to learn any information he knew he’d forget.

”Not permanently, not while I am still alive.”

That was the only answer Harry needed for now.

"Right," Harry said coolly. He felt his fingers pop the top of the vial open, gazed at the potion for a second before swallowing the contents with one long gulp. When he looked up at Dumbledore, the man was smiling.

Harry turned to look around him.

"Ah, Harry, will that be all then?" Dumbledore asked cheerfully.

Harry frowned. He was standing in Dumbledore's office with an empty vial in his hand.

"Sorry, sir...er, why am I here?" he asked with a confused expression. Dumbledore pointed to the container in his hand.

"You'd had a nightmare and came to me for help."

Harry handed the empty vial back to him and scratched his head.

"I came to you? I'm sorry, Professor-I can't seem to remember-?"

Dumbledore came forward and placed an arm around Harry comfortingly. 

"A side-effect of the potion, Harry. There is nothing to worry about."

"The potion helped to forget about the nightmare?"

"That, among others. You don't remember?"

Harry shook his head weakly. He remembered waking up from it. And he knew he had wanted to see Dumbledore so urgently but he did not know why it was.

"Then it has worked wonderfully, Harry! Now, I suggest you head back to bed-don't forget your cloak too."

As Harry wrapped his father's cloak around him and walked to the door, he turned back to spare a final glance at Dumbledore.

"Thank you, sir.”

”Unnecessary, Harry,” he said with a dramatic wave of his hand, “we have all been there.”

Harry nodded with a small smile.

”Oh, and Harry?” Dumbledore called out.

He seemed to be on the verge of saying something but decided against it eventually.

”Good night…and-and be safe.”

”Yes, sir.”

Chapter Text

The plan had been simple. And yet, everything that could have gone wrong had gone wrong. 

It had been laid out clearly enough. Umbridge had requested him for batches of Veritaserum the week before in exchange for throwing out the investigation she had started under his name. Narcissa's letter had been effective enough to temporarily stop it, but Umbridge had been threatened with the power Severus held. She couldn't believe that someone like him could have connections with those like the Malfoys. To have that power returned, she had offered him a deal; if he complied with the demands of the High Inquisitor, she would halt the pending investigation. Dumbledore had been thrilled with the news, much to Severus' own annoyance. The plan was this: Severus would hand her fake Veritaserum and proceed to plant false information about the headmaster to her. This way he would earn a favorable impression on her and Umbridge would have leverage to remove Dumbledore from Hogwarts.

Severus had disagreed at first. He was willing to risk the Dark Lord's anger if it meant Dumbledore would be around to protect everyone at Hogwarts. But Dumbledore wouldn't hear it. His argument was that his temporary leave of absence from the castle wouldn't bring too much harm, but the Dark Lord's wrath on Severus would. He didn't know what exactly the headmaster had planned but he trusted the madman, and knew it was probably for the best. The only thing left for Severus to do was protect Potter. That was Dumbledore's only concern and request; that Harry learned to protect himself through Occlumency.

That had been the plan.

Severus had been in double Potions with the fourth years when he heard the first scream. Whirling over to look at his students, he saw they shared equally puzzled expressions slapped across their faces. He was about to discard it when he heard thundering footsteps on the floor above.

"Carry on. Instructions are on the board," he instructed and then swept out of the class. It took him a quarter of a second to realize that none of them had bothered to listen. They ran after him towards the source of the noise. Fear gripped his heart as his legs carried him as fast as it could go, wondering if perhaps there had been an attack-as illogical as that thought was. He thought briefly of reaching for his wand as he noticed the silhouettes of students by the entrance of the Great Hall but changed his mind when his eyes finally trained themselves on the figure of Minerva McGonagall. He skidded to a halt just as she turned towards his direction.

"Professor McGonagall," he called, panting lightly as she greeted him grimly, "what's happened?"

Rather than answer him, her attention fell on the group of fourth years who stood behind him, eyes widened and ears open to catch any news they could.

"Shouldn't you all be in class?" she barked but Severus stepped forwards defensively.

"I could say the same about your students," he said accusingly, glancing to the students that surrounded her, quite perfectly content chattering away with no regard for their teacher.

"They're not mine," she replied.

"Then whose-?"

His question was answered by small grunts as Flitwick finally pushed past his students who had now clattered into the hall. He'd been trying to herd them back but it was clear that the students were far too excited to even pay attention to him, never mind their fondness for him. He practically had to be lifted halfway, and stumbled out to where Minerva and Severus stood. Severus raised a brow.

"M-Minerva-! Would you tell them-to-please-head-back-!" Flitwick gasped, bent over in exhaustion.

There was a loud bang and all the noise died down immediately. Some of the students inside the Hall peeked out to see what had caused the sudden noise and were met with a stern glare from Minerva. She rounded off on them, and for a moment frightened Severus himself.

"Back to the classroom, the lot of you!" she shouted, hand on hips, "or it'll be five points off of each of you!"

The younger students listened for the most part. They murmured under their breaths and took their time crossing around their Professors on their way back. The older students seemed unfazed however and Severus fell into action at once.

"You heard your Professor!" he barked and in an instant, they had all straightened up and made haste towards the nearest exit. Severus spared a smug smile towards Minerva.

He watched as his own students walked back towards the empty classroom, evidently disappointed of not learning what had happened. Severus knew they'd find out soon enough, anyway. He had a feeling what this was about.

"Minerva, what happened?" he asked again.

"He's gone. Dumbledore's left," she said in a defeated voice now that the children had left. As she said it, she sat down hard on the steps, hands buried on her head. 

"Oh," Severus said coolly. The plan had worked, then.

"You don't seem surprised," she said scathingly.

"Well, it isn't anything serious, is it? They tried to get him out before, didn't they? Half the school board had practically begged him to come back then and they'll do the same thing again...suspension isn't something to be worried about..." Severus replied with measured calmness.

"Suspension? They've got Aurors looking for him!"

Severus frowned.

"Aurors? Why the hell would they need them for?"

Minerva raised her head at him questioningly.

"To arrest him!"

"Arrest him? All he did was attempt to spread false rumors-that's only enough to warrant a temporary suspension!"

"Severus, what on earth are you talking about?" 

"You tell me what's happened then," he bit back, arms crossed as he looked at her crossly. 

"Now, now, Severus, let’s not turn on one another just yet. Dumbledore’s just left and already-“

Severus held a hand up to stop Flitwick, and the man obliged, head bowed. Severus turned once more to Minerva, her expression a mixture of devastation and anger.

”What happened?”

”Dolores had Potter brought up to the office…she accused him of starting some duelling club or something-“

”I warned that stupid boy to put an end to it!"

"And then he-wait, you're telling me you knew what Potter was up to and didn't think to tell me-his Head of House-about it?" she asked, very obviously outraged by the discovery of this news.

Severus cleared his throat and looked away, unable to meet Minerva’s stern gaze. Though he’d taught here longer than he’d been at school, she never failed in making him feel like a guilty teenage boy.

”I thought it was managed,” he muttered without looking at her, “how’d she get him? Did she have evidence?”

“One of the students involved in Potter's club went and confessed," she said bitterly, "you'll know who it was soon enough I expect."

He didn't know what she meant by that but it wasn't his main concern either.

”So how’d Dumbledore get involved?”

”Well, the damn woman had wanted the boy expelled! But Dumbledore went and covered up for him, didn’t he? Said Potter’s little club was called Dumbledore’s Army and that he’d been recruiting members to help fight you-know-who,” she said, lips pressed firmly together now.

“Then what happened?”

”She got excited,” Minerva said, “she accused him of using Potter to get members to join his club and then take down the Ministry.”

”She thought Dumbledore was recruiting children to use them against the Ministry? Children? If he’d wanted to do that, he would have years ago! And single-handedly too!” Severus scoffed in disbelief.

”Yes, well, their paranoia seems to have nulled their capacity to think, hasn’t it?” Minerva said harshly.

”Issued an arrest! For Albus Dumbledore! They want to send him to Azkaban! Albus Dumbledore-to Azkaban-can you imagine?” Flitwick joined in now, shaking his fist at the air.

”How’d he get away?”

”You know how Albus is…a bit of theatrics and all…took out all of them and even had a second to spare us. Told Potter to keep practicing his lessons or something and then vanished,” she said, the corner of her lips twitching upwards lightly.

”Wished he’d at least have blasted Umbridge off the tower first,” Severus grumbled, leaning against the stair banister. Minerva offered a weak chuckle in response.

”So what did you think happened?” she asked.

Severus looked at her a moment. It didn't matter what he thought happened. The plan had failed. A temporary suspension had turned into a worse issue. 

”It doesn’t matter anymore. I suppose it’s up to you now to keep the peace here between the students and teachers?”

Minerva stood up.

”Yes but I don’t expect that to be for long. With Albus gone, Dolores Umbridge now has free reign over the school. Merlin help those children now…”

Severus agreed silently. It was bad enough that Dumbledore’s initial plan had gone foul, now they had Aurors looking to capture him. But Dumbledore was a clever man and he could hide himself well if he wanted to. The worry now lay within Hogwarts itself. If that Umbridge woman had been dangerous before, Severus did not want to think about what more powers the Minister would grant her with the headmaster’s sudden vacancy.

The castle had always been a source of comfort for him but now, with the threat from multiple forces, Severus found himself wishing he could be very much away from Hogwarts. Another thought filled his mind, then. Potter.

Chapter Text

It had only been two days since Dumbledore left and yet the castle was already in ruins. It appeared that with Dolores Umbridge being appointed Headmistress, the students had taken to themselves to try and sabotage the remaining schools weeks...not that the teachers minded very much. None of the staff were too pleased that they were now expected to report to Umbridge each morning and evening on the students' progress for "quality assurance". Severus knew it was just another way of ensuring that they weren't stepping out of line given their rebellious moods at the present moment. Her detentions weren't as effective as they used to be, either. He'd noticed several doses of Murtlap Essence missing from his store cupboard and realized the students were probably using it to alleviate those Blood Quills Umbridge had been making them use. He hated Umbridge but he despised thieves even more, and thought it'd be best if he surrendered his entire supply to Madam Pomfrey so that she could hand them out to the students for free. But his losses did not stop there.

Umbridge continued asking him for Veritaserum, and it hadn't been long before his entire fake stock had diminished. Annoyed, he had had to make new batches of potions and wasted away several ingredients in order to make them as close to the truth serum as possible. The woman was an absolute nuisance and the temptation of murdering her crossed his mind at least twice a day.

As though that wasn't bad enough, Potter was still being a stubborn-headed child who refused to cooperate with him. He continued Occlumency lessons, as he had promised Dumbledore, but Potter seemed reluctant to learn anything from him. 

The boy stood in front of him now, defiant as ever. Severus' lip curled, feeling nothing but malice as he stared up into the carbon copy of James Potter.

"So," he said, "have you been practicing?"

"Yes," Potter said, though Severus knew he was very clearly lying. The boy had never been good at that-his telltale sign was that he'd often avoid eye contact when he was being untruthful.

"Well, we'll find out soon enough, won't we?" he replied smoothly. "Wand out, Potter."

He could see thoughts running wildly across the boy's head even before he'd uttered the spell. This will be fun, he thought.

"On the count of three then," Severus drawled, "One-two-"

The door to his office banged open and in stepped a flushed Draco, unaware that Potter was standing in the middle of the room with his wand directed at him. The boy only realized his classmate's presence when he halted in front of him, eyes moving from Severus to Potter wildly.

"Professor Snape, sir-oh-sorry-" he breathed.

Severus lowered his wand.

"It's all right, Draco. Potter is here for a little remedial Potions."

Draco didn't appear to have heard him. He was staring at Potter gleefully, surprised to discover yet another way to humiliate him outside of classes, he supposed. Potter was turning red now and Severus worried the boy's arrogance would have him screaming the truth out to Draco.

"Well, Draco, what is it?" he asked snappishly.

"It's Professor Umbridge, sir-she needs your help," said Malfoy calmly, "They've found Montague, sir, he's turned up jammed inside a toilet on the fourth floor."

Severus arched an eyebrow. "How did he get in there?" he demanded.

"I don't know, sir, he's a bit confused."

"Very well, very well. Potter," said Severus, turning to Potter who looked nervous all of a sudden, "we shall resume this lesson tomorrow evening."

Without a second glance, he swept away with Draco at his heels. 

"Remedial Potions, sir?" the boy repeated as they strode towards the fourth floor.

”That is correct.”

”But why, sir? Why him, I mean?”

Severus glanced sideways at the blonde boy, the perfect imprint of his old friend.

”Professor McGonagall requested I provide additional lessons for Potter seeing as he is doing quite poorly, as you may have noticed, in classes.”

The boy nodded, hungry for more information. “You couldn’t say no, sir?”

"I told her I would have more luck tutoring a Hippogriff (Draco sniggered) but she insisted and I had to agree, of course...its important as Head of Houses we show tolerance no matter how...difficult...it may be.”

Draco nodded seriously. “It’s just that-well-Professor Umbridge has informed us Inquisitorial Squad members to report any information we learn about Potter, sir.”

Severus stopped in place, turning to face Draco. The Inquisitorial Squad, Severus sneered inwardly. It was just another way to spy on the staff and students without wasting Ministry resources.

”This is a matter strictly between Professor McGonagall and I and I’d like to keep it that way,” he said in a final tone.

”But-sir-“

”I understand your commitment perfectly, Draco. But if you choose to, even it means amounting my disappointment, report to the headmistress, I more than understand of course. Loyalty is first and foremost and a trait I most admire, especially in my own students.”

Draco stared at him with a loss for words. He took a long minute to understand Severus’ meaning, his implicit one anyways. And then he said in a quiet voice:

”I suppose it’s nothing important or dangerous…especially if you’re there with him, Professor.”

And yet there was no room in Draco’s tone to hide his evident disappointment. Severus did not offer his gratitude nor a comment. Instead, he resumed his walk. Behind him, Draco followed.

”By the way, sir,” he said more animatedly now, “Mother and Father were thinking about inviting you over for the Easter holidays…”

They were well approaching the toilet now and it would be best to cease any more conversation with him.

“I cannot promise anything for now,” he said shortly.

Draco nodded. He then gave an assuring smile and pointed towards the door. As Severus entered, the first thing he caught sight of was Umbridge’s pink clad figure by the end of the cubicle stall. She had her hand on her hips and appeared displeased to see him. 

"Professor Snape," she said with a civility she reserved for when students were around, "I thought it best to inform you that-"

"You found Montague, yes, Draco has briefed me. He doesn't remember anything?"

Umbridge seemed irritated that he brushed her off so easily but did not comment on it, to Severus' surprise.

"See for yourself," she said stepping away so Severus could squeeze into the cubicle.

Montague sat the floor, drenched and trembling. His clothes were torn and tattered, a purple bruise standing out against his temple. Severus cursed Umbridge silently for not getting the boy some help first. He cast a drying spell over Montague before unfastening his cloak and wrapping it around his shaking figure. 

"Why didn't you take him to the infirmary?" he hissed, kneeling down to face Montague now. Severus grabbed the boy's face and examined his pupils. They were dilated but there was no way to know for sure what it was that caused it. Behind him, he heard Umbridge shuffle around noisily.

"I wanted to know what happened, first," Umbridge replied.

”There would be no way to know that if he’d succumbed to his injuries,” Severus grunted.

”He hasn’t, has he? Dumbledore said you were the go-to man for incidents like this-so go on, then, ask him what's happened.”

Without another word, Severus touched the boy's large arm gently. Montague’s eyes shot up at him in paranoia and Severus let go. He eyed the nasty bump on his forehead and it oddly matched the slight dent on the toilet seat. 

“Did someone do this to you?”

He watched as Montague wrapped his arms around his head and rocked to and fro, muttering something unintelligible under his breath. Severus leaned closer to hear.

“Weasels…whistle…west…” Montague wheezed. Severus raised an eyebrow, wondering if perhaps the boy had lost his mind.

"What is it? What's he saying?" Umbridge was calling out from behind him. Severus ignored her.

"What's your name?" Severus asked.

"M-Mont-Montague-sir."

"Do you know where you are?"

"H-Hogwarts-Hogwarts."

"Did someone do this to you?" he asked again.

This time Montague answer was met with a blank look. It wasn't for the lack of trying, though, Severus could see the words forming in the boy's mouth but it came all jumbled out. He kept saying weasels and whistle and west over and over again. 

"He needs the hospital," Severus finally announced, standing up on his feet.

"But I want to know what-"

"So do I, Headmistress, but if we don't get him to Madam Pomfrey, I'm afraid he's going to suffer permanent head damage. I'm sure you wouldn't want the boy's parents to start an investigation into the school-not when you've only just been appointed as head?" he said, voice dripping with hostility. 

Umbridge turned red and choked on her words. Severus turned to Draco.

”Help me take him to the Hospital Wing. We’ll need Poppy to do a full examination to make sure we don't need to send him to St. Mungo's. Later, head down to the common room and tell the Quidditch team to wait for me. We’ll need to revise our defense-“

”Hem. Hem.”

Severus turned before she could cough again. “Yes, Headmistress?” he said.

”I’m sure Madam Pomfrey's examination won’t take longer than an hour or two, yes?” she asked, though her voice implied she was commanding, rather.

”I am not sure. I suggest you ask her.”

Umbridge flushed again. Careful, Severus, he thought. He was crossing the line here and if he wasn’t careful, he’d be following Dumbledore out the door. Not that that was an entirely bad idea.

”I think I will. Mr. Malfoy, you will escort me to the Hospital Wing instead. Professor Snape, you are dismissed. If the boy appears to be in any immediate harm, I'll call for you.”

Severus nodded and bowed slightly in a mocking fashion as he stalked out of the bathroom. He thought hard about Montague as he stalked the corridors on the way back to the office. He was pretty sure Montague had been attacked, and had decided he would learn who the perpetrator was before Umbridge did. At least he could get to the student before she could, whether for better or for worse. He was just thinking about warning Poppy to extend Montague's examination when he spotted his office door ajar. He cursed Potter, hoping against all hope that Peeves wasn't in there now, demolishing his years' worth of collections.

He did not catch it at first, not until his eyes had completely adjusted to the dim room. It was only then did he realize that the usual brilliant glow from the pensive was now a faint glimmer-and then he saw the dark silhouette leaning into it, head completely submerged in Severus' stash of private memories. Memories he hadn't wanted anyone seeing, especially Potter.  He could not describe what he was feeling in that moment, to see Potter standing there looking into his personal memories as though it was no cause of concern to him. He did not know what he felt nor did he remember much of what he did.

When Severus came back to his senses, Potter was staring at him by the door, dead cockroaches and glass shards shattered all over and around him. The boy gave him a fleeting look, it was a mixture of fear, hurt and betrayal, before he ran out. Severus' door closed with a bang behind him, leaving him there, alone and desolated. His wand was still tucked into his robes and yet, all around him, the jars stacked neatly along his shelves began to explode on their own accord. The shattered bits of glass flew everywhere, cleverly avoiding him the entire time. When there was nothing else left to destroy, Severus felt his knees gave way as he sunk to the floor. One hand grasped the other, so as to stop it from shaking. His lips twitched, breath shallow. 

For years, he thought, for years I have told Dumbledore that Potter was an arrogant runt like his father. And for years he had watched Dumbledore defend him. Years when he had forced Severus to suppress his anger and bitterness towards the boy, had marked it off as nothing more than jealousy of the boy's success. Jealousy? Hadn't Dumbledore told him that Potter was more his mother than his father? She never would have done this, not once, not ever. As much as she despised him in life later, she had never been vengeful towards him. She had remained kind, even when he had forced all her love for him out of her. He wasn't like her, he was nothing at all like her. He was vengeful, he'd been waiting to avenge his father for all those times Severus had insulted him. And what better way to do that than to view Severus' private memories? He was probably with his friends now, talking and laughing about how his father and Black had humiliated him in front of all those people.

His fingers grazed against the bits of glass. Years of collecting specimens, all gone to waste now. Severus broke into short sobs then, tears falling down his nose though he could not understand why. He wasn't sad. He was angry. Then why was he crying? It seemed history was repeating itself. Years of torment from Potter and now his son had come to take his place. A vicious cycle. Years and years and years. It wouldn't ever end. Severus felt a dull ache in his chest and his eyes flickered with a new feel for vengeance now.

"He'll pay," Severus said to himself, "I'll make him pay."

"Severus?"

He looked up as Minerva entered the staff room, her hands on her hips, an incredulous expression on her face.

"Have you been to your office this morning?" she asked.

He nodded, turning his attention back to the book he was reading.

"Severus," she started in a voice of disbelief, "Severus, I think you've been robbed."

Severus let out a breathy sigh. Seeing his dejected expression, she crossed over to him, settling down onto the seat next to him. He cursed himself for not having cleared his office before he'd come up.

”No, I wasn’t. That was on me.”

"Are you going to tell me what's happened?" Minerva asked with a questioning glance.

He closed the book and placed it gingerly across his lap. 

"It's nothing...I was just looking for something."

"Oh? And it must have been something important judging by the state of your room?" she pressed. The sarcasm was very evident in her tone but he opted to ignore it. He didn't particularly feel like telling her her most prized student of Gryffindor house had broken into his personal memories. She would only prod more and more things out of him and if anything, Severus wanted to forget. He didn't want to know that there were now probably a group of students giggling and sneering over the fact that their intimidating Potions Professor was nothing short of a twat who couldn’t defend himself against bullies.

"It's nothing, will you leave it?" he muttered.

"I'm only concerned, Severus," she said and then dropped her voice to a low whisper, "you weren't...attacked...or anything, were you?"

"Attacked? By what?" Severus snorted.

"You tell me. I just don't want to have to find you half-conscious by the woods again, Severus. You'll tell me if something happened, wouldn't you?"

He scoffed. Trust Minerva to drudge another horrifying memory up. He'd completely forgotten she'd witnessed that embarrassing night when he'd returned from the Dark Lord's meeting. Her and Potter. He felt a vein burst in his temple as Potter's name brought a bitter taste to his mouth. He clenched his fist.

"Nothing happened."

"You're sure? Because with Dumbledore gone, I'm the-"

"I said it was nothing."

He stood up, his book clutched under his arm as he regarded Minerva with narrowed eyes. She looked defensive, and for a moment he thought to apologize but decided against it.

"I'd better get it sorted. Minerva," he said with a bow. She watched him warily as he made his way out of the staff room. 

He was out the door when he felt someone slam against him in full force. Severus looked down to see–

"Oh, Severus! I was just about to come see you," she exclaimed with a fumbled apology for knocking into him. "Yesterday-Dolores-she brought that boy in-"

"Montague, yes. You examined him?" he inquired.

"Yes, the headmistress insisted I perform an immediate examination on him. She wanted to know who'd been responsible for his state," Poppy said in a rather irritated tone.

"Did you? Examine him, I mean?"

"Well, not right away. I gave him a dose of the Sleeping Draught and told her to come back in two days time. She argued, of course, but when I told her the potion couldn't be undone she stormed away."

Severus smiled, despite himself. "Shouldn't have done that, Poppy."

"What's she going to do? Sack me?" Poppy teased, eyes softening at his warm expression. "What I wanted to talk to you was-the boy had an extension jinx of some sort on him...it was so that he couldn't name who or what had been done to him. Clever magic, really. Modeled after the Secret Keeper charm, I think."

"So there's no way to know for sure what happened?"

"No, there is," Poppy said with a grin. "Did you ask him?"

"I did...he was spouting some jumbled up nonsense-"

No," said Poppy, extending her arm out to drop a piece of parchment against his palm, "did you ask him?"

Severus unfolded the piece of paper and recognized Montague's shaky handwriting against it.

"It was them? You're sure?" he asked.

Poppy nodded. "You'll take care of it, Severus? I don't want those boys getting into anything much worse with Dolores...they're rather bright and it'd be a shame to see them expelled."

"I'll take care of it. Weasels, it all makes sense now."

Severus glanced back at the parchment. On it, written clearly was one word.

Weasleys. 

Chapter Text

Severus found the Weasley twins and their younger sister by the stairwell quite incidentally as he was making his usual afternoon rounds. The three were whispering fervently, obliviously unaware of his presence behind them. He waited there, arms crossed, and strained his ears to try and catch bits of their conversation-which made little to no sense. He stood there, puzzled for a minute of a second, before he realized that they must have placed a charm of some sort so anything they said would be unintelligible to any passerby, not unlike Severus' own Muffliato curse. 

"Weasleys!"

The three of them leapt, and rather comically too, at the sound of his voice. Severus rarely had time to apprehend students these days, given his rather strained schedule balanced between attending to the Dark Lord and keeping things control over the castle with the rest of the teachers, so he took extra care to enjoy the next bit that would follow. The boys looked at him guiltily but the sister, Ginevra Weasley, was throwing him a rather dark look as though she were seconds away from jinxing him.

"Fascinating bit of conversation you seem to be having," he commented dryly. "Anything I should be made aware about?"

"Just a friendly academic conversation, Professor," the twins said at the same time, humor and mischief twinkling in their eyes.

Not against the law, is it?" Ginevra Weasley snorted aloud. She had a short temper-which reminded him quaintly of Molly's own temperament the night the Order learned Mundungus Fletcher had abandoned his post and had got Potter into all that trouble with the dementors alone. He felt his lips twitch as he recalled the memory fondly-Fletcher hadn't been seen around since...not that he was a presence to be missed, not by Severus anyway. 

"You may leave, Miss Weasley. It is your brothers whom I wish to speak to," Severus said, dismissing her with an air of smugness.

She hesitated at first, an argument forming at the tip of her tongue and how Severus hoped she would give him an excuse to take at least five points off her house. The girl opened her mouth and Severus thought he heard the distinct sound of a swear before one of her brothers nudged her with his foot. She glared at the other redhead, seemed to realize Severus was goading her into insulting him, and stomped away with a final seething look. Severus watched her figure disappear over the bend of the corridor before he finally turned his attention back to the twins.

"What can we help you with, Professor?" asked the taller of the two, Fred Weasley, as he leaned casually against the railing.

Over the years, Severus learned that there were different strategies when it came to handling misbehaving students at the school. For instance, if they were the mild sort, he'd try and sort them out with his usual line of intimidating tactic. This often worked, especially with the younger students, but there were some who quickly learned that Severus could not-not legally, at least-act on some of his threats. The Weasleys were the latter; they realized earlier on that Severus couldn't do anything more than accuse the students and that any time he attempted to expel any of them, he was always met with futility on his end given Dumbledore's reluctance to rid the school of problematic children. The usual threats didn't work on them, so he'd often resort to a far resourceful way to catch them in the act. 

"So, boys, are you going to tell me what you did to Graham Montague of Slytherin house or am I to drag the truth out of you?"

It was a rather blunt tactic, Severus normally preferred subtle ones where students wouldn't immediately know he was onto them only because it made their confessions all the more fun for him. But, it was effective nonetheless. He watched as their eyes widened twice their usual size, and he smiled triumphantly. But their reaction was fleeting, and it was quickly hidden away in a sudden short burst of coughs.

Severus waited for the nonsensical performance that would brew, he was sure. 

"Graham?" Fred Weasley said, creasing his brows, "is that what his name is? I had no idea-did you, George?"

"Not a clue, Fred. Always thought he looked like a Gregory, myself-you know, with the-," and then he extended his arms out and jumped about the place in what Severus assumed was a poor imitation of a large gorilla at the zoo. 

"Enough," he said when the other Weasley joined along, the two of them jumping and grunting ridiculously.

They stopped but the smirks remained plastered across their faces. Severus fumed now. Typical Gryffindor behavior, he thought savagely. For a moment, he was tempted to drag them by the ears to Molly and let her interrogate them herself. Sadly, it would cause too much of a public scene and the last thing he needed was for Umbridge or her Inquisitorial troops hot on his heels.

"Enough," he repeated, "tell me what you've done to him so Madam Pomfrey and I can work on reversing the damage!"

The Weasleys glanced towards each other. "You mean he hasn't said what's happened?" they asked.

"He's still in recovery! I'll be surprised if he can even speak after what he's been through," Severus snapped.

"But sir," said Fred Weasley in an innocent tone, "how do you know it was us then?"

"Excellent question. Professor?" George Weasley joined in now.

Severus stared at the two of them, his foot tapping impatiently as he regarded them. It was obvious they were the ones trying to provoke him now, to gather some sort of reaction-or perhaps have him admit that he had no definite proof that it was them that had gotten Montague stuck in that toilet. If he allowed himself to get angry, he knew he would start screaming and it would only be a short moment before Minerva came to intervene. The woman badgered him enough about his own overreacting behavior these days, if she found out he'd been accusing the Weasleys with nothing more than a handwritten note from a disoriented boy, he'd be the one packing his suitcase next.

"I don't want to play games, boys."

"Neither do we, sir-"

"-so if you know what's best for you, you'd tell me what you've done to him."

They glanced at each other once more, as if contemplating on whether or not to cooperate with him.

"Hypothetically speaking, Professor, if it was us that'd done it...what d'you think would happen to us?" George Weasley asked in an unconcerned tone.

"One month's suspension. But only if you hypothetically tell me what it is that you did to Montague. And why."

"One month? You'd only be giving us one month's suspension for taking out Slytherin's quidditch captain?" Fred Weasley exclaimed.

Severus paused before answering. "I believe one month spent alongside your mother is punishment enough. You should be grateful I'm not trying to have you both expelled-this sort of nonsense would have been left unattended by Professor Dumbledore but I assure you...Dolores Umbridge will not hesitate to put you back on the train ride home. Permanently."

"But why aren't you getting us expelled?" George Weasley asked now. Severus raised an eyebrow.

"What?"

"You heard him, sir," his twin jumped in, "why aren't you expelling us?"

"You-want to be expelled?" Severus asked, confused by what they were suggesting.

Fred and George Weasley laughed, to his greater annoyance, no doubt enjoying a personal joke among themselves.

"Oh no, of course not," Fred Weasley said sarcastically.

"No, we definitely wouldn't want that," George Weasley replied.

Severus pinched the bridge of his nose, feeling hot air leave his nostrils as he watched the two Weasley boys. "Well, then? Are you going to tell me what's happened to Montague?"

"Say, Fred, wasn't there a little bird that's been going around telling people about that?"

"Right you are, George. Funny little bird, too."

"And what did this little bird say exactly?" Severus asked, clenching his jaw. There was no point in trying to attack them. He would rather leave here at least knowing what they had done to Montague rather than empty-handed. He figured he could easily get the twins back any other time-they had classes with him until the year end, he was sure he could get in an opportunity to take some points off of them. 

"Well, the bird said it'd seen a hairy gorilla-"

"-that's Montague, I'm guessing, Fred-?"

"-that's right, George-the gorilla had been trying to take points off of two-"

"-innocent-"

"-yeah, innocent students-"

"-so as an act of defense, they shoved him-"

"-into the Vanishing Cabinet over on the first floor-"

"-and the next thing they knew, he was back at Hogwarts-"

"-yeah, and the bird thought he-"

"Stop," Severus commanded. They stopped talking, though they did little to hide the amusement in their faces.

"Is that all you wanted to know, Professor Snape?" Fred Weasley asked.

"You don't know where you'd sent him off to? Or how he came back?" Severus asked sternly. They shook their heads, stuffing their hands into their pockets.

"So," he continued, "you're telling me he could have died out there and you wouldn't have even known?"

They had the sense to look somewhat ashamed now, as the realization that they quite easily could have been responsible for the death of another student had he not fortunately survived. 

"What could he possibly have done to you to earn such an unearthly death warrant?"

The Weasleys' heads shot up in alarm. "It was just a prank, Professor-"

"A prank?" Severus scoffed, displeased. "A prank?! Did you think we'd all sit around and have a laugh while Montague's parents cried over his corpse? Or did you think your parents being in Dumbledore's close-knit circle and him being an unworthy Slytherin would buy you a way out of Azkaban?"

When they didn't answer, he pressed on. "You didn't answer my question, boys. What did Montague do to you?"

George Weasley answered first. "He tried to take multiple points off of us."

His tone was solemn, dejected even.

"He tried to take multiple points off of you," Severus repeated, "certainly deserves what he got then."

The silence that hung in the air between them was extremely loud and for punishment's sake, Severus let it loom over them until one of them spoke.

"We're sorry, Professor-we are-" 

"It's not me you should be apologizing to. I think for your insolence, fifteen points each will be taken from your house."

The two redheads nodded quietly. Severus huffed in victory as he stepped back to allow them to pass him. As he watched, the two turned to him with a questionable look on their faces.

"Are we still suspended, Professor?" Fred Weasley asked.

"That'll be too lenient on you, I think. A month's detention with me, and I'll certainly be having a word with your mother about the way she's raised you."

"Right," they said in unison. "A month's detention. Starting-?"

"Next week. Thursday. My office after dinner."

They nodded, but Severus thought he saw the faintest glimmer of a grin on their faces as they dispersed, leaving him standing there aloof by the stairway.

Chapter Text

In all fourteen years that he'd taught here, Severus supposed that this had to be the worst one yet. In just a matter of months, Dumbledore had gotten himself sacked, a Ministry dog had taken over the school, Slytherin's Quidditch Captain lay in shambles at the hospital wing, the Order of the Phoenix was on the verge of disbandment and as if that had not been enough, the Weasley twins had decided to pull a last-minute reign-of-terror on the school before exiting the year prematurely. The two of them had somehow managed to leave behind an irritatingly spectacular bit of magic that had left a considerable impression on Severus. As immature as they were, he had to admit they knew a fair amount of magic for their age-they'd somehow managed to produce a physical swamp out of thin air that had taken home in one of the corridors in the east wing. 

As inconveniencing as it had been, Severus had to admit he enjoyed watching Filch, Umbridge and her little stooges running about the place trying to sort out the mess the Weasleys had left behind in their wake. The other had been inspired by the twins' genius and were now attempting to claim their throne for themselves by pulling mass amounts of pranks on the current headmistress, much to Severus' own enjoyment. There was also the fact that Peeves was determined to outperform them all, he heightened the frequencies of mayhem that even Severus deemed went too far sometimes. The poltergeist had yet to attack teachers but Severus knew it was only a matter of time, what with some of the teachers assisting him in some of his more questionable pranks.

There was a sudden scream in the air and as Severus turned, he saw Peeves shoot through the air, leaving behind him a trail of gold dust. Moments later, a group of students came running around the bend and would have ran into him had he not held a hand out to halt them in their places. He held an inward groan as he saw the silvery hair of one Draco Malfoy leading the group of students behind him. On his chest, a shiny badge glimmered as the words "Inquisitorial Squad" flashed about.

"What is the meaning of this?" Severus asked as he regarded the group wearily.

"Professor Snape, sir, we were just-Peeves-he-"

"What's Peeves done now?”

”Please, sir,” said Draco as he stepped forward, “we’ve been tasked with bringing Peeves to Professor Umbridge. Says he’s facing expulsion for shoving Filch's cat into the Vanishing Cabinet.”

Severus eyed Draco and then the others behind them. It was the usual group; Draco, Zabini, Crabbe, Goyle, Parkinson and Lewitt.

“And she expects you to apprehend him? The poltergeist? That no one, not in a hundred years, has managed to do?” he asked in disbelief.

The group fell silent, suddenly interested in their shoes but only Draco maintained strong eye contact. He looked determined, resolute even in performing Umbridge’s asinine request.

”Back to the common room. You should be all focused on your OWLs, not running around the school unsupervised like this. Especially you two, Crabbe and Goyle. I thought I’d made it clear I wanted you both to start taking this year more seriously? Or are you seriously considering taking up a place at Azkaban?"

The two boys bowed their heads once more.

”Away with you. If I catch you out here rambling about doing work for Professor Umbridge, I’ll be forced to take points off you.”

Severus didn’t wait for them to retaliate. They rarely did, but in this particular occasion, Draco looked like he was holding back a comment or two. Without another word, Severus swept away.

He’d need a word in with Lucius or Narcissa about how Draco was behaving these days. He was nearly sixteen and yet was not as mature as he should be. Severus wondered grimly of the boy’s fate if he did not grow up soon, given the Dark Lord would likely make him take the Mark in a year or two. The only thing keeping him safe was his father being in good books with the Dark Lord, though Severus doubted this would be the case much longer. None of them were safe anymore, including Severus, from the Dark Lord's wrath-not until he finally gets his hands on the prophecy.

Severus landed against his armchair with a lengthened sigh. As he tugged a stack of papers on his desk, a small parcel fell out, sliding to make contact against his hand. It was wrapped in bright orange paper and tied with spotted ribbons, a detail he could only equate to the Weasley twins. As he tugged at the ribbons and tore open the box, sitting atop a small bag was a handwritten note addressed to him:

Sorry about missing the detention. A gift to show how sorry we are. P.S. prodding the leaf sets it off.

Curious, Severus reached over to turn out the contents in the small bag and scoffed as a miniscule, transparent globe rolled out. When he took it in his hands, the glass shield dissolved and in his palm stood a miniature swamp. Extending out in the middle of it all was a small leaf, which he assumed was what triggered the swamp to triple in size. He stared at it, so mesmerized by the details put into the swamp that he didn't notice the bits of smoke emitting from his fireplace. It was only when the fully fledged form of Remus Lupin emerged from amongst the ash and smoke that he exclaim in sudden surprise. Lupin coughed lightly as he stepped out, nodding at Severus as he did.

"Severus," he said with a small smile.

"Lupin," Severus replied coldly, "why are you here?"

Severus watched as Lupin strode over towards him, noticed the Weasleys' gift in his hands and smiled again.

"A gift from the Weasleys, I presume? Molly is furious about what they've done but I've been speaking to her-telling her that at least they're working towards something they are truly passionate about. She's upset of course but I expect she'll come around..."

"That's interesting and all, Lupin," Severus drawled, "but you haven't answered my question."

Lupin stood now between Severus and his desk, both staring at each other but upon seeing Severus' own stubborn posture, Lupin sighed. "I think you know why I'm here."

Severus did know, but he was simply not in the mood to entertain the man right now. He was still furious over the incident with Potter and did not think very kindly towards the werewolf's presence in his office room right now. To be fair, Severus was half-surprised to find Lupin here at all-he had been expecting Black to have showed up instead, demanding to know why his precious godson was no longer privy to Severus' Occlumency lessons. A nice sight that would have made, he thought viciously. Severus was itching to pay Black back for what had happened at Grimmauld Place the other night too.

When he did not reply, Lupin shrugged helplessly. "I'm here about Harry, Severus. He said you stopped giving him Occlumency lessons?"

Severus stood up, hands flicking the portable swamp back to the desk where the glass case around it grew back once more. He strode angrily towards the fireplace now, spitting as he went.

"And what if I have? Did he tell you the circumstances of which I ended the lessons?" he asked rather harshly.

Lupin nodded with another soft sigh. "It was a mistake, Severus," he said in a drained voice, "You know what boys his age are like-he was young and foolish-"

"Don't make me laugh!" Severus snapped. "Tell me, when Potter came to see you and Black-did you three have a good laugh about what he'd seen? Had some fun reminiscing over sweet old memories of your schooldays, did you?"

"Of course not! You're being irrational-"

"Irrational? Irrational? So you think it's my fault-?" 

Severus found it difficult to form full words now, he was trembling all over. Glancing down, he saw his knuckles were white. He was doing all in his power not to lash out at Lupin and kill him in a fit of rage. 

"I never said that. Your reaction is justifiable-I understand completely why you did what you did...but I'm also asking you to consider the circumstances that surrounds us here and now. Harry needs to learn Occlumency, Severus, for his own safety-"

"He doesn't care about safety! Safety means nothing to him, Lupin, or are you so daft you've failed to notice that? Every year he puts him and his friends at risk-he's just like his father...too arrogant and self-involved to see how much the rest of us have sacrificed for his sake!"

Lupin shook his head, bewildered at Severus' outburst. "No," he was saying, "no, Harry's not like that. Believe me, I knew James well enough to know his son's nothing like him at all."

Severus scoffed in disbelief. "So everyone keeps saying, but I've yet to see any proof of that."

Lupin was quiet for a moment. As Severus turned, he saw the other man sitting at the edge of his desk, trying to find the right words to say. He looked up at him after what felt like hours.

"You know, we could both stand here and pretend that Harry's the one you have a problem with."

Severus raised an eyebrow, lips thin in anger. "What is that supposed to mean, Lupin?" he growled.

"You know what I mean, Severus. You've had it out for the boy since you laid eyes on him! You hate him, you've hated him for a while now, long before what he did. Sometimes I wonder..."

"You wonder what?" he challenged in return. 

The situation had become tense now, dangerous even. Severus was very aware that Lupin's entire demeanor had changed. That "nice teacher" act was gone, and replaced with the true face of what he was. Lupin stared at Severus darkly, hungry for a vicious fight, and Severus was more than prepared to oblige him.

"I wonder what it does to a soul to carry so much hatred for a dead man that you willingly unload it onto an innocent child," Lupin replied simply.

It happened so fast. Before he knew it, Severus was grabbing Lupin by the collar, dragging him towards his own face roughly.

"How dare you?" he whispered, "do you have any idea what he's done to me?"

"And what has the boy done to you that's so horrible, Severus?"

"He made my life hell! Every opportunity he had, he took to sabotage me-tried to discredit me as the wizard I was! And you-you watched him! Them! You watched what they did to me, you stood by and let them humiliate me -for each waking moment-and you-you wanted me dead! You wanted me gone, didn't you? You all hated me so much-what did I ever do to you-?"

Severus was quite aware that he was no longer talking about the present Potter boy, he was aware that that deeply imbued hatred and loathing for the boy's father had bubbled up to the surface at last, in search for a reckoning that was long due. Every bit of rage and bitterness that he had so poorly suppressed over the years had pinned him down, rendering him incoherent as he looked into the sorry-felt eyes of a remorseful werewolf.

"Severus," Lupin whispered softly, "I...it was a long time ago-"

"Not to me."

There was so much he wanted to say but could not get all the words out. His body heaved and he felt his fingers slacken as he released Lupin's collar. Severus opened his mouth to speak but all that he could do was rasp dryly and a second later his vision blurred. He heard Lupin cry out his name before his knees gave in and struck solid ground, and Severus scrunched his face in pain. The last thought in his mind was that Lupin must have cursed him before he completely blacked out.

Harry watched quietly as Snape stirred around in his semi-conscious state. Behind him, Madam Pomfrey busied herself by prepping the tray by the bed with juice and food, all the while complaining about how stupid Snape was. He grinned, despite the situation, seeing how Madam Pomfrey's nagging nature extended to even the teachers themselves. Harry stood there, awkwardly standing over the edge of Snape's bed when his professor's black eyes shot open and he sat up rather hurriedly. His eyes were unfocused and the way his hair covered his face so haphazardly almost brought a laugh out of Harry.

"Potter," Snape gasped in surprise.

Harry turned to Pomfrey who had hurried off to the opposite end of the wing to address another student that was now moaning about feeling cold on her left feet. 

"Er, Madam Pomfrey-?" Harry called weakly but she paid no mind. Helpless and faced with no option left, Harry turned to face a rather white-faced Snape.

"What the hell am I doing here?" Snape spat rudely that Harry had to take a step back. He frowned, telling himself was only here because he'd been forced to.

"You, er, sort of fainted, I think," Harry managed slowly, "Professor Lupin said he was talking to you about something when you passed out-"

"-and he got you to carry me here?" Snape snapped, eyes flashing at the humiliating thought of a student-Potter nonetheless-carrying a full-grown unconscious man to the hospital wing.

"What? No, of course not-he summoned Dobby-that's the House Elf- he got you to Madam Pomfrey..."

"Then why are you here, Potter? Come to invade more of my privacy?"

As if on cue, Harry felt the mirror in his hands vibrate and he quickly brought it up to him as a welcome sign of distraction from Snape's fuming face.

"Harry," Lupin's voice called from the other end of the two-way mirror, "Harry, is that him? Is Severus awake? Is he alright?"

"Yeah, yeah, he's aw-"

Harry had barely gotten the words across when he felt Snape snatch the mirror out of his hands so that he could shout into it instead. "Lupin? What the hell did you do to me?"

"Oh, I assure you, Severus Snape, that Remus had absolutely nothing to do with it! In fact, if he hadn't been there, Merlin knows we'd be burying you out front by the lake!"

Harry and Snape both turned their heads towards Madam Pomfrey, who was now standing there before them, hands on hips as if she meant business.

"Poppy, what-?"

"How many times are you going to end up here, Severus? Have you looked at yourself these past few weeks-? Just look at the state of you-running about the castle day and night with no regard for your own health-really, it's no wonder-"

"Potter!"

Harry jumped at Snape's voice, alarmed at the multiple voices echoing harshly through the hospital room. "Yeah?"

"GET OUT!" Snape screamed, pointing at him wildly as Madam Pomfrey continued to shout at him.

Thinking that Snape had never offered a better idea, he nodded as he strode quickly in the direction of the exit. From the distance, he heard Snape and Pomfrey still shouting at one another, no longer caring that the other students on their beds could quite clearly hear them. Harry waited until he was outside before allowing himself a quick breath, glancing down at the mirror in his hands. He brought it up to see that Sirius had now joined Lupin, and was sniggering at something.

"It's not funny, Sirius," Lupin said.

"Oh, come on, Moony," Sirius replied with a laugh, "seeing Snape get shouted at is always a little funny."

"It really isn't-! I mean, you didn't see him earlier..."

"Well, he's still alive, isn't he?" Sirius retorted with a mild bitterness in his voice. 

"I do hope he's alright-"

"You doing okay, Harry?" Sirius interrupted, pushing Lupin out of the frame slightly.

Harry shrugged. "I suppose I can't ask him to continue with my lessons now, can I?"

He hoped he sounded sorry enough so that Lupin would leave him alone. Truth be told, he couldn't care much about Snape's Occlumency lessons at the moment. Not when so much had been happening all week. His dreams were slowly solidifying and Harry felt as though he was close to the truth at last...if he could just reach out a little bit further and-

"Harry, I've told Dumbledore about what happened," Lupin said, shattering Harry's reality. "He said he'd have a word with Severus. I think it'll go okay if its Dumbledore...even if he disagrees, I reckon Dumbledore'll find a way to convince him to do it anyway."

Sirius snorted loudly.

"I think I've got to go," Harry said quickly before the two men could start yet another argument in front of him. His head was throbbing again, and he decided he'd have better luck finding peace somewhere much quiet. His thought wandered to Hagrid's hut, and knew Hagrid had been home for a while now.

"Okay, Harry. Remember, try and practice what Snape's taught you. It's important that you-"

"Umbridge's coming-"

Harry felt bad for lying as he shoved the mirror deep into his robes, but he didn't think he could listen to another word about how useful Occlumency lessons were for him. Harry felt his feet move, and happily followed along, grateful that he did not need to think for once.

Chapter Text

She was joking. She had to be.

As Severus stalked through the empty corridors of the castle, he found his thoughts straying back to the Hospital Wing, where he had sat in Poppy's office for two hours and had listened to her go on and on about the list of things that was wrong with him. Even now he could hear her shrill voice in the back of his head, making his head throb once more.

"Will you just tell me why I passed out like that, Poppy-I honestly haven't got the time to sit here and listen to you whine any longer about not getting enough rest-"

"That's the problem, Severus, you refuse to listen to me! You want to know why you went and landed head first on the floor of your office? It's because you're dying, Severus!"

He had laughed, and quite boldly too, in her face. Poppy's face flared in anger at his laughter and she wagged a finger threateningly at him. "You think this is funny?"

"Oh, come on, Poppy," he said and then when she didn't react to it, exclaimed, "I'm not dying! I'm not!"

She had crossed her arms and looked down at him so that he quieted. "I can't be," he whispered, "can I?"

"You will, Severus, if you keep this façade up any longer."

He opened his mouth to speak but the older woman had a lot more to say still.

"Come off it, Severus, how stupid do you think I am? You think I don't know what you're doing for Albus these days? You've ended up here more times I can count this past year than you have  all the years you've been teaching-and all of it right after you-know-who's return-?"

"You don't know anything!" he had hissed. "None of it!"

"I know enough. I know what he has you doing...you think I won't recognize a Cruciatus tremor when I see one?"

Severus had stood, feeling quite heated all of a sudden. "You don't know what you're saying, Poppy. I must've been ill, that must've been why-"

She had laughed, then. "Of course you're ill, you idiot boy! You don't eat-you don't sleep-running around the castle trying to do everything you can to keep Albus Dumbledore happy-"

"Don't."

"-if he's such a respectable man then why does he have you risking your life-"

"ENOUGH, POPPY! DON'T TALK ABOUT WHAT YOU DON'T KNOW!"

He hadn't meant to shout at her but she wouldn't stop. How could she ever begin to understand him, not when she didn't even know the man he was. He watched as Poppy retreated from him, eyes wide. "Poppy, I'm sorry-I didn't-"

"I don't want you to die, Severus. But you don't seem to understand it. I've seen patients die from far less extenuating circumstances..."

"A few Cruciatus curses won't kill me. I can take it, Poppy."

"You still don't understand, Severus. The Cruciatus is an Unforgivable curse for a reason. The pain disappears, yes, but it leaves a mark on your mind. Over time, continued exposure leads to brain rot...it poisons you inside out until you're no longer yourself. You breathe and move and speak like any ordinary person but there won't be anything inside," she'd said, moving to place a hand on Severus' chest, where his heart moved in rhythm. "You die, so to speak."

When Severus finally found the courage to speak, his mouth was dry. "How...how do I fix it? If there's a potion I could take-"

"It's not as simple as that. There's been research on it but the results have always been inconclusive. There is a way though..."

"What?" he had asked.

"Some studies found that it eases the rot if you...well, if you talk to someone about it."

Talk to someone, Severus scoffed as he made his way towards the gate. Poppy believed that the rot in his brain would be magically cured if he started opening up about his traumatic experiences to other people. Therapy, she had called it, it was something the Muggles used when they underwent something terrible. But this was Muggle nonsense, something they'd conjured up to fix something that simply couldn't be fixed. How on earth could talking to someone erase the disease he was carrying around in his mind? Severus decided he'd much rather die than tell anyone else about what he'd been through. He would only be exposing his weakness to them, yet another way to fall victim to enslavement as he had with the Dark Lord.

Yet, here he was, walking confidently towards the person whom had first popped into his mind when Poppy had suggested it. He was a fool, and a pathetic one at that, but even so felt slightly hopeful at the thought of speaking to her.

As Severus passed Hagrid's hut, he saw the familiar figure of Dolores Umbridge posted by the half-giant's door. She was trying to peek into his window, all the while glancing round to see if anyone else was around to see her. Knowing full well she was quite possibly up to no good, Severus strode towards her.

"Headmistress," he called from afar and took a minute to enjoy her startled appearance.

"Snape," Umbridge said nastily, "may I inquire as to your presence outside the castle during this time?"

"I have a meeting with Lucius Malfoy. He insisted I see him-says he need to discuss future expansion of the school...he's also asked me to look into the quality of the school with Dumbledore's recent abdication..."

It was amazing how even in the dark he could see the way she turned an ugly shade of red. She quickly reached to smoothen her lopsided hair-bun as she regarded him. "Oh, well, if it's for Lucius Malfoy, of course, of course...I expect you'll be telling him nothing but good things about how I've been doing here, then?"

"The very best," Severus replied dryly.

"Good, good," she said, hopping down Hagrid's front steps.

"Are you here to see Hagrid? Because if you are, I have to say, he is rarely home at these times. It'd be best if you arranged to meet him during...regular hours."

Umbridge flushed once more. "Where else would he be?"

He pointed towards the edge of the forest. "He's the caretaker of the school. It's his job to conduct rounds around the Forbidden Forest to ensure the students' safety. It would certainly be awful if any wild, untamed creature set foot onto school grounds, wouldn't it?”

She looked slightly frightened at that. “So no one but the half-breed steps foot in there? How would we know if he weren’t keeping something dangerous in there-? The students have complained about him.”

Severus was beginning to lose his patience with her now.

”The Forbidden Forest is far too vast and dangerous for any one of us to venture in but you’re perfectly welcome to do so. It would just be a shame if we were to lose our headmistress so early…”

”So-so what? You’re saying we should just pray the giant isn’t growing any sort of weapons in there?”

“Weapons? Weapons for what?” he asked tiredly.

”For Dumbledore! You know, I thought you were intelligent but it’s clear now that I was wrong. I’ll find some way to get through that forest-“

“If that involves sending students in, I’m afraid I’ll have to step in to intervene. There’s a reason why Dumbledore doesn’t allow students to enter the forest without Hagrid present with them. Just as there is a reason why students and staff alike are advised against leaving the castle at night.”

"And yet you roam here freely," Umbridge snarled.

"Ah, I'm quite experienced as they come. But even so...I do most of my rounds inside the castle rather than outside. There are also times when my presence is required outside of Hogwarts...so I have no option but to pass through the outside, you see," Severus replied in a rather condescending tone. He was confident she wouldn't speak anything too nasty towards him, not when he was about to meet with one of the Minister's closest ally.

"So I see," the witch said. "Don't let me keep you then. And you'd better be back here in time for classes tomorrow."

Severus gave her a bow before continuing down his path with a triumphant smirk on his face. He made a mental note to warn Hagrid about her snooping around his home in the dark, worrying slightly that she may be trying to come for him next. With Dumbledore gone, Severus expected Umbridge would have a less harder time kicking the half-giant out of the school what with his reputation to endanger students on a regular basis during his Care of Magical Creatures classes.

He stood there, perched by the entrance of Malfoy Manor, wondering if he had made a mistake. It was cold and he was dressed far too casually, still in his work attire and a fringed cloak that was about as useful as Trelawney. It was a testament, perhaps, to his muddled thoughts.

Severus knocked twice, decided he was being an absolute idiot, and turned to leave. He had made it halfway through the garden when he heard the door open, his heart coming to a standstill as he heard Narcissa's drowsy voice call out.

"Severus, is that you?"

He stopped in his tracks, moving in her direction once more. It was pointless to evade her now, he thought. He offered her a small smile though she looked as confused as ever at the sight of him by her front door.

"Narcissa," he said in a nervous bout, "is everything alright?"

She blinked several times. "I don't know, Severus, is it? You're out here knocking on our door in the middle of the night...what is it? Is it Draco?"

Severus quickly assured her that it wasn't, taken aback at the concern she had momentarily at the thought of her son being in trouble. He didn't know many mothers that cared and worried so deeply over their children, save for Molly, of course, and it always surprised him when he did realise that about them. 

"No, no, I just thought-it'd be nice to have tea."

With every moment that passed, Severus felt stupider and stupider. He bit his tongue, cursing at the ridiculousness of the scene before him. Here he was, at the home of the man who had seen him as an equal and had given him nothing but trust and power, and he wanted to-what exactly did he want to do?

"You're shivering, poor thing-come in, Severus, quickly please. And close the door behind you...we've been having terrible little gnomes trying to find a way into the house all week!"

She continued her rant as she walked through the halls. Severus did as he was told and followed her quietly.

Entering the kitchen, the lamps lit up of their own accord as Narcissa pulled away two chairs and settled them by the large window overseeing the garden. She placed two hands on his shoulder and pushed him towards the seat, and wrapped a heavy cloth around him. She then clapped her hands and an elf appeared, bowing continuously as he apologized for some ridiculous reason.

"Make us tea," she ordered and the elf complied. Severus watched as he rushed toward the stove to get the kettle boiling. He felt Narcissa settle down next to him.

"Now, will you tell me what's got you out here looking all flustered and demented?"

Severus raised an eyebrow at her. Though she'd been forced out of bed and her hair was entangled quite haphazardly about her face, she still looked quite beautiful. In fact, she looked positively surreal that Severus found himself tongue-tied for once.

"Severus?"

He snapped out of his daze. "Is Lucius around?"

She frowned. "You've come to see him again."

Severus noted the disappointment in her voice and her saddened expression as she glanced away from him.

"Not really," he replied. "I-I don't know why I'm here, exactly. Well, I do know why but...it's difficult to explain, really."

"You've come all the way here and woken me up to tell me just that?"

Severus was not sure if she was teasing him or not but decided to apologize either way. She laughed, and the sound of her voice eased a little bit of worry that had wedged itself in the back of his mind. He wasn't sure why he felt as anxious as he did, and hoped it wasn't a sign that the rot in his brain was starting to take effect once more.

"I'm supposed to talk to someone," he said, "talking is supposed to help...or so they say."

"Talk to someone," she repeated, "about what exactly? You're acting really odd, Severus-are you sure you're not running a fever?"

She reached out to place the back of her palm on his forehead, and the touch made him close his eyes involuntarily. He sighed softly, wanting to say something foolish but was interrupted at the perfect moment by the house-elf and the tray he held.

"I have prepared tea, Mistress," the elf said, lifting the tray higher as he bowed.

Narcissa took it from him and ushered him back to wherever he'd come from before turning back to Severus. She pushed a glass into his hand and watched him down its content before he spoke again.

"Madam Pomfrey-she...she found something-it's sort of like a growth-"

"Cissy?"

Severus had jumped from his chair at the sound of the high, cold voice that echoed throughout the kitchen. He felt a sense of impending doom as he glanced over to the entrance where the dark-eyed Bellatrix Lestrange stood, wand pointed at Severus with a very sharp glare aimed at him.

"Bella! Oh, put that down, won't you? It's only Severus!"

Despite her sister's words, Bellatrix's wand remained pointed in his direction. Having overcome his initial shock, Severus stood, feeling the blanket Narcissa had wrapped around him fall to the floor.

"Ah, Bellatrix, a pleasure at last," he said, striding over to her, anxiousness now replaced with a mixture of annoyance and smugness. "I had heard you were out."

"Disappointed, are you?" Bellatrix hissed. "Bet you never expected to have to see me again."

Severus feigned shock rather mockingly. "Oh, but how could I not? You must certainly have a fair amount of stories to share with the rest of us..."

"As you must have also, I presume. If I've heard correctly, you've certainly cozied yourself right up into the arms of Albus Dumbledore. Does the old man feed you scraps to keep you by his side like a loyal dog?"

"Bella!" Narcissa yelled in protest, but Severus held her back.

"It's alright, Narcissa. Knowing where she's been, it's only normal to want to lash out at others-"

"Don't you dare, Snape! What the hell are you doing here with my sister?"

"He said he needed to talk-"

"-to Lucius," Severus cut across Narcissa quickly.

"What do you want with him?"

"I’m not at liberty to discuss that with you."

"Is it? Sounds an awful like you're here to meet Cissy alone with Lucius away. Come to put your dirty half-blood hands on her, have you?"

"Bella!" Narcissa exclaimed.

Severus had moved before the other woman could so much as speak. He had wrapped his arm around Bellatrix's wand arm and twisted it so she dropped her wand with a pained cry. She looked up at him, murder in her eyes.

"Dirty half-blood I may be but I still have my honor, Bellatrix. I'm not sure the same can be said for you."

Her eyes flashed at him once again. "How dare you? What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

"I think you know precisely what I mean. Tell me, where is that husband of yours? Haven't forgotten you've got one, I hope?"

"Severus," Narcissa called. "Let her go."

He released Bellatrix, bending over to pick her fallen wand as the woman examined her bruised hand. He offered it to her, and she took it scathingly.

"I hope I haven't offended you nor your hospitality, Narcissa," Severus whispered in Narcissa's direction.

Gone was the warmth he had felt radiating from her before Bellatrix's intrusion. She looked cold and a little angry, even. 

"I think you'd better go. Bella and I have matters to attend in the morning…”

Severus nodded, though he was full of bitterness. He was more than familiar of the feeling of coming between sisters, and knew there was nothing he could say or do to alleviate the tension.

”Of course, I’ll be seeing you. Bellatrix,” he said with a snarl, “it was a pleasure.”

”I’ll see him out, Bella. You go back to bed.”

As the two of them left the kitchen, Severus turned to see Bellatrix still plastered by the kitchen entrance, her eyes trained on their figures.

Severus and Narcissa walked in silence to the door, neither wanting to say anything. It was only when he apologised for his behaviour that she paused to hold him back.

”You said something about talking to someone? Are-are you alright?”

Severus looked at her for a moment. She was pale and drawn in, her figure much smaller than he’d remembered her to be. It was obvious that her sickly appearance was to do with her Death Eater sister’s sudden turning up. And Lucius hadn’t been faring well with the Dark Lord, either.

Severus decided then that whatever was wrong with him could wait, that he would only be burdening the poor woman with his troubles. He was suddenly sure that Poppy had only been exaggerating about whatever was going on with him to force him to start caring for himself. He wasn’t dying, and he was very sure it’d be plenty of years ahead before he reached the end of his own line.

”It’s nothing,” he lied with an encouraging smile, “I just came by because I needed…well, I’d had a bad day and I needed a friend.”

She smiled, quite broadly too, as she took his hand in hers.

”I’m glad I got to see you again. Anytime you aren’t doing well, you’ll come see me, won’t you? I need a friend as badly as you need one too, Severus.”

He stared up at her, dumbfounded.

”I’m sorry about Bella…she’s just upset that…”

”That I was out here living a comfortable life while she was put away in Azkaban? You don’t have to justify your sister’s behaviour, Narcissa. Just-just be careful around her, won’t you?”

She nodded. And then she leaned over to place a soft kiss on his cold cheeks. Severus smiled, despite himself.

”Go on now,” she urged, “go and get some sleep. I’ll tell Lucius you came by-he’ll be sorry he missed you.”

”Right,” he said with a nod.

Severus turned away from her and walked quite cheerily in the direction of the iron gate. By the time he arrived back at the castle, he had long forgotten about everything Poppy had told him. All that remained in his thoughts that evening was Narcissa’s face smiling at him.

Chapter Text

Harry fumed silently as he waited by his desk, staring down at his cauldron that had been emptied. Hermione stood irritatingly close to him, fingers bunched around the front of her robes while she stared at him. He didn't say anything, not even when Ron returned from handing his potion over to Snape and reached for his bag. Ron hadn't noticed the tension in the air, obliviously slinging the satchel over his bag with a slight huff. 

From the front, they heard Snape call out to the students, telling them they could leave if they'd sent in their potion and homework. Hearing the announcement, Ron cheerily whistled as he grabbed Harry's own bag and thrusted it into his hands. "Come on, we've got McGonagall next and if we're late again-"

"You go first. You too, Hermione," Harry replied quickly. "I've got something I need to do first."

Ron shot Hermione an odd look to which she responded with a shake of her head. She hesitated, biting her lip as she glanced back at Harry nervously. Harry found himself growing all the more annoyed with her with each passing second. 

"Everything alright?" Ron asked then as he shot a glance at the other students who had now begun to walk out of the class in a single file.

"Harry's potion was sabotaged again," Hermione said quietly, "and Harry wants to talk to Snape about it."

"Again? The git-!"

"Ron!"

"What? If Harry wants to tell him off, then good for him!" Ron said. "He's been failing Harry purposely all week, Hermione! Just because Dumbledore isn't here-"

"-I know it's unfair, Ron, but under the circumstances...I just don't think Harry should be picking anymore fights-let alone with teachers...Umbridge's just waiting for an opportunity to-"

"-so what? You expect him to just sit there and watch Snape ruin his potion class after class-"

"Will you two shut up?"

Ron and Hermione turned to him now, sparing each other a worried glance.

"I'm not going to pick a fight with him. I just want to...talk," Harry finished weakly.

"Oh, Harry, I know you do but when exactly has any student ever been able to have a decent conversation with him? And well...you haven't exactly got the best track record with him, either..." Hermione replied pointedly.

"She's got a point, Harry," Ron said with a shrug.

"It's not about the stupid potion," Harry explained, shoving his hands into his pockets, "it's about Occlumency."

Hermione's face changed when Harry brought up the topic of Occlumency. Her face lit up excitedly and he could practically hear what she was thinking.

"Oh," she said with a pleasant smile, "that's good, then. I'm glad you want to continue your lessons again...I know you said Snape thinks you're doing well enough but it wouldn't hurt to be sure. Ron, didn't you say he was still talking in his sleep too-ouch!"

Ron had elbowed her arm but it was too late. He at least had the decency to look away from Harry while muttering an apology.

"I'm not going to ask him for lessons again," Harry mumbled darkly. His eyes were trained on Neville's figure as he was the last to step out of the classroom, leaving the three of them alone with Snape. "I don't think he'll agree to them, anyway."

"Why not? Didn't Dumbledore say you needed these Occlumency lessons at least until the end of the year, Harry?"

Harry was just about to snap at Hermione when Snape shouted from his desk. "You three," he barked, "don't you have another class to get to?"

Seeing he was caught of guard, Ron quickly shoved Harry ahead, ushering him to move towards the door. Hermione followed closely behind the two of them. When Harry opened his mouth to argue, Ron interrupted rather quickly.

"Doesn't seem like he's in the mood to talk right now, is he?"

"Ron's right, Harry. If you are going to talk to him, you should do it at dinner. He'll probably be in a better mood by then," Hermione piped in.

"Yeah," Ron agreed, "and McGonagall's going to be there so he won't go too hard on you, I reckon."

Harry felt it was useless to argue with them. As they passed by Snape on their way out, he was looking through the class' vials and didn't spare them a glance. They had made it halfway across the dungeon when Harry felt a sudden change in heart. He'd been feeling awful all week over the pensive incident, and Snape's continued punishment only pushed his temperament further. No, he thought, this couldn't wait. Snape needed to hear what he had to say and he had to do it when no one else was around to overhear their conversation. 

Harry pulled on Ron's sleeve, tugging him and shoving his bag into the other boy's arms with an apologetic look.

"This really can't wait. You two go on first."

Before they could argue again, Harry turned on his heels and began to stride back in the direction of Snape's classroom. Behind him, he heard Ron ask how he was supposed to explain Harry's absence to McGonagall but Harry ignored him. The worst McGonagall could do was slap him with a detention or take points off of him, and both options were better than what Umbridge made him do these days in her detentions.

As Harry burst through the class, Snape looked in his direction though he didn't say anything. Harry walked up to his desk and stared down at unpleasant features of his Potions Professor. Standing this close to him now, Harry could see details of the man's face he wouldn't have noticed otherwise. His skin was a sickly color, even more so than he usually way. His fingers also twitched constantly, though the man did not appear to have noticed it.

"What do you want, Potter?" Snape asked with a slight sneer.

"I've come to apologize."

Snape raised an eyebrow. "You don't have to apologize for being so poor in Potions, Potter. I assure you, I am more than aware that not all students have the capacity to understand and excel at such a complex subject."

Harry scowled then. "Not that," he said quickly. "I want to apologize for what happened the other day."

"Which is what exactly?"

Harry paused, assessing the situation. Snape was pretending as if he didn't know why Harry was here though why he did so, Harry did not know. He realized a second later that he did not care, either. He just needed to speak his mind and be on his way. The rest would be up to Snape, though Harry was sure that he wouldn't be so quick to forgive him, not when he'd witnessed such a humiliating memory of him.

"I shouldn't have looked into the pensive-I-I'm sorry," Harry said, feeling warm all of a sudden. 

Snape leaned back against his chair, hands on his lap as he raised his head to meet Harry's gaze.

"Get out."

"What?" Harry asked, blinking.

"I am not interested in neither you nor your forced apology, Potter. Get out."

"Right," Harry replied, though he stood there, unmoving. 

It wasn't as though he hadn't expected it. In his mind, Harry imagined Snape throwing a fit of rage for being daring enough to apologize to him after everything that he'd done. This hadn't gone as horrible as he thought it would have, and he supposed he could even make it to Transfiguration if he ran fast enough. His shoes squeaked as Harry turned on his heels, head hung low as he made to leave. He'd taken a step backward when a block of hesitation gripped at him. What did he have to lose, he thought as he moved his body back to where Snape sat.

"No," Harry said loudly, "No, I'm not leaving."

He could see Snape's nose flaring in anger as he glared at him, eyes boring into his own. Snape reached to pinch the bridge of his nose, exhaling quietly.

"Potter," he whispered, "I understand you may not be used to rejection like the rest of us but if you do not leave-"

"Will you just shut up and listen?"

Harry did not know where this sudden boldness and stupidity was coming from but he did not hold back. He had said and done worse to Snape, he supposed yelling at him could be no worse than spying on his teacher's private memories and then being caught red-handed at that, too. By his desk, Snape clenched his fist as he stared at Harry disbelievingly.

"What did you say to me, Potter?" he asked softly, eyes glittering dangerously now.

"I shouldn't have done it. I'm sorry. I am really, really sorry. And-and what my dad did...it wasn't-he was-I don't think he should've done that...to you...or anyone else, for that matter."

Snape pushed against his desk so that his chair squeaked horribly and he got to his feet, towering over Harry rather menacingly. His hair hung like curtains by his face, his expression could be described as yielding so much loathing and hatred that Harry had never seen before. Snape looked down to where Harry stood, fingers twitching once more by his side.

"Tell me, did your felon of a godfather teach you to say that-? Or perhaps the werewolf? Did they think I would be stupid enough to believe such a worthless apo-"

"IT'S NOT WORTHLESS! AND THEY DIDN'T TEACH ME TO DO ANYTHING!" Harry yelled, Snape's insult of Sirius and Lupin triggering his temper. Realizing he was going too far, he forced his voice back to a state of politeness. "I'm here because I want to be."

Snape bent over so he was a few inches away from Harry's face, though he seemed less than bothered by the proximity. When he spoke, Harry saw flashes of his yellowed, crooked teeth.

"Why?" the other man asked, his voice so low that if Snape's face hadn't been this close to Harry's, he would have missed it.

"Why what?" he replied tiredly.

"Why are you here, Potter? Why waste my time and yours apologizing when you know you don't mean it? You enjoyed it, didn't you?"

"No-no, of course I didn't-"

"DON'T LIE TO ME! DO YOU THINK ME A FOOL? AFTER EVERYTHING I'VE DONE TO YOU, YOU EXPECT ME TO BELIEVE YOU FEEL SORRY FOR ME? DID YOU THINK COMING BACK HERE AND GROVELING AT MY FEET WOULD MAKE ME FORGET ALL THIS EVERY HAPPENED AND GO BACK TO TEACHING YOU OCCLUMENCY?"

"Yeah, because learning Occlumency with you has been fantastic for me," Harry retorted sarcastically.

"DON'T TEST ME, POTTER!"

"I'm not!" Harry cried out. "D'you think I get off of seeing my dad and his mates acting like pompous pricks? D'you think I like  seeing you were right about him all along?"

Both of them were panting heavily, their breaths shallow as they tried to maintain their composure. Harry ran his hand through his hair absent-mindedly and in his frustration, kicked the leg of Snape's desk though the other man said nothing. 

"I am sorry, alright? I don't-I don't care if you don't believe me but I am. I don't think he should've done that...to you," said Harry, already regretting the words as they left his lips. 

As he glanced up at Snape, he was surprised to see his professor almost taken aback at his words. The sour expression had been replaced in one of confusion and even a little awe. Harry briefly wondered if it was perhaps the first time someone had genuinely apologized to him, but reverted back to his dislike of the man when his lip curled.

"So you agree?"

"What?" asked Harry, feeling fatigued after all the yelling. "Agree with what?"

"That your father was an arrogant toe-rag."

He wasn't asking, Harry realized, he was making a statement. Harry certainly did not agree to that. As right as Snape may have been, he wasn't sure he should take his words to heart entirely. Though his father and Sirius had attacked Snape unprovoked, Sirius had mentioned that the git had also been jinxing his father when he had the chance. Sirius wasn't the most reliable sort but Lupin had admitted to it too. And Harry was sure of it too; if Snape could taunt and mock his own students, there was no doubt he'd done some bullying of his own during his time at school. 

"Doesn't matter now, does it?" Harry replied coolly. "He's dead."

Snape's eyebrow shot up as his fingers came to trace around his lips, as he usually did when he was keeping his guard up. They were in unknown waters now, Harry thought. The conversation had drifted into a new territorial space that was more than just a teacher-student exchange. They were equals now, both attempting to take control of the conversation and defeat the other in a play of words. Harry had already apologized and had felt the burden come off his shoulders after weeks of carrying it around. He'd attempted to make amends for his father's childish behavior and his own, as far as he knew his conscience was clear. He no longer felt guilty enough to allow Snape to push him around anymore.

"Yes," Snape said in a low whisper, "that he is."

Harry had nothing left to say and so chose not to speak. He'd let the weight of Snape's words hang in the air between them, both acknowledging the memory of his dead father in their own ways, one filled with hatred and another of grief. He stood there until it was unbelievably awkward that he felt he should leave but Snape raised a hand to stop him.

"What you did is unforgivable," he started. Harry sighed, preparing for the list of accusations and insults that would follow.

"But," said Snape and Harry quickly moved to look at him, "but I've been excused for far worse."

Harry frowned, trying to digest his words. He wished Hermione was here suddenly. She was an expert in deciphering hidden messages behind people's words and was sure she could've told him what exactly Snape was trying to say. Puzzled, he said the only thing he could at the moment.

"Right," Harry said, "right, yeah."

"Head to class, Potter. You're late."

Harry nodded fervently, feeling much lighter as he walked out of the classroom and to McGonagall's class where she greeted him with a screeching remark of his tardiness. He wondered throughout the rest of Transfiguration whether Snape's words carried any weight at all. He decided by the end of the class that it hadn't meant anything and that Snape would continue to be a git towards him as he usually was. He hadn't been wrong, either. As the week continued to progress, Snape made biting comments about how terrible Harry was at Potions. But strangely enough, each time their homework was returned back to them or they were graded on their potions, Harry realized that he was no longer being scored with zeroes. 

Chapter Text

It had been about eleven when Severus received word from Winky that Dumbledore had demanded an emergency meeting at Hog's Head. He'd been left with a sinking feeling in his chest as he readied himself, throwing a heavy traveling cloak over him as he mulled over what the headmaster could possibly have to say to want to risk such a meeting. Fear bubbled up in him as he wondered if perhaps yet another Order member had been murdered or if the Dark Lord had somehow taken hold of the prophecy. The first option was more plausible, though it did not make him feel any more relieved. He was sure that if the Dark Lord had secured the Order's only weapon, he would have known by now.

He stepped past the dungeon, making sure the protective wards around his office and room was in place. Umbridge was becoming far too nosy, and he worried she might snoop about if she discovered he was away. As he made his way away from the dungeon and up above towards the Great Hall, he kept a watchful eye for the old toad. He was pleasantly surprised that he hadn't bumped into her doing her usual rounds tonight. Not wanting to push his luck as it were, he walked as quickly as he could towards the entrance, intending to reach the gates before she caught sight of him. He came to a halt, however, when he saw none other than Minerva McGonagall descending the steps, hair in disarray and wrapped in a thick midnight green cloak. It was evident, if not for the state of her hair then from her expression, that she'd been awoken from a good night's sleep.

He smirked as she came to stand next to him, though she hardly looked surprised to see him there.

"Dumbledore?" he asked. She nodded.

"Did he say why?"

This time, she shook her head. "All the house-elf said was to be there at the Hog's Head Inn. You don't know, either?"

Severus shrugged. "I suppose we'll know when we get there. You haven't seen Umbridge about, have you?"

"No," Minerva replied, expression turning sour at the mention of Umbridge's name, "is it her turn to do the rounds tonight?"

"Supposedly so. I think it best we leave while we are able to, don't you?"

Without another word, the two headed towards the looming entrance ahead. It was sealed as it usually was and Severus enjoyed the temporary silence between them as Minerva drew her wand out, tapping the locks to undo the charms and jinxes placed against them. As she worked, Severus observed her carefully. She looked far older now, and he realized that it had been a while since they'd had the chance to speak to one another. The year had been incredibly hectic, especially with Dumbledore leaving. To make it worse, they were both the Head of Houses and that meant keeping track of all their students while making sure the O.W.L and N.E.W.T students would safely make it through final exams in one piece. Plus, with the Quidditch teams sabotaging each other more frequently these days, they'd decidedly agreed to take a step back from each other, not wanting their house rivalry to come between what little relationship they had left.

"Are you doing alright, Severus?" the witch asked, stepping away as the locks began to click in unison.

"Fine, I suppose. You?"

"The same...Umbridge hasn't been giving you anymore trouble?"

He snorted, and his response was answer enough to Minerva who afforded him a small smile. The door creaked as it opened, and it was so unnaturally quiet that the only sound Severus could hear was the sound of their footsteps as the two of them stepped out. He had had a twisted sort of feeling in his gut the second the blast of the chilly air hit them in the face, and as he looked ahead, he saw an ominous shadow cast out over the ground a mile away. Though the moonlight was weak, there was no mistaking the giant figure out by Hagrid's hut. He heard a loud bellowing and saw sparks fly out towards him.

"What on earth-?" Minerva started. Severus' arm reached out to grab her elbow, dragging her back.

His dark eyes spotted the much smaller figures around Hagrid too late. Minerva had seen them first, she had realized what was happening before he could and had charged towards them in full force. Severus simply stood there, staring as Minerva ran in the direction of the cabin, her cloak flapping wildly around her as she screamed at them to leave Hagrid alone. And as he watched, the figures turned to direct their wands at her, red sparks emitting out from their tip without so much as a warning. Severus heard his own voice call her name out but the next thing he knew, Minerva's body was lifted off the ground, flailing about wildly before crashing back down with a loud thump.

Seeing her fall had suddenly transported him back to the kitchen in his mother's house at Spinner's End. He was sixteen, his mother had made him sit by the window and peel potatoes for dinner. It had been just the two of them (his father hadn't been home for months by that time) and Severus had only just commented about the warm summer air when his mother had swayed slightly before crashing onto the floor. He had stood there, simply staring down at her for some time. Later, when the Muggle doctors had come to take her body away, they'd told him that his mother had been diagnosed with a terminal illness and she'd known for quite some time that she had little time left to live. He also realized much later on that his father had probably learned of it and had taken to abandoning the both of them while he could (he never saw his father again). He had been angry and upset, of course, that his mother had been selfish enough to hide a secret as horrible and terrible as that but in the end, there wasn't anything he could have done.

Severus felt his lips move to sound her name but it was all he could do. He tried to move so that he could go to her, so that he could make sure she was alright but as hard as he tried, his feet wouldn't budge. He felt as though his entire body was slowly sinking underneath the ground below. There was a lot of noise coming from around and above him, and he wasn't quite sure how long he'd been standing there. There was a tingling feeling of fear that began to creep its way up into his chest. Severus frowned. 

Why exactly did he feel so afraid for? It wasn't as though she meant a lot to him that he should be so concerned for her, was it? She was just a colleague, wasn't she? They hadn't ever sat down together and shared intimate secrets, so that meant they certainly weren't friends. They simply tolerated each other, that was all. Severus distinctly remembered how her presence used to annoy him as she badgered him constantly to eat and care for himself. Did she do that because she cared about him? Or was she just proving her superiority over him-to tell him no matter how many years of service he'd given to the school, he would be nothing more than an underfed and overgrown schoolboy to her? There was also that one other memory that gnawed at him so terribly now. It was many years ago, when Dumbledore had told Minerva and Filius about Severus' past as a Death Eater. He could remember the shock and disgust in Minerva's face, the slight way she had distanced herself away at the knowledge of what he had been. Eventually, she had mellowed over the news but Severus knew that a woman as honorable as her would never see him as her equal. So what was she to him? Just a presence in his life, perhaps, that had no astounding impact on him nor his actions?

How strange, he thought carelessly. If that was all she was to him, then why was he feeling all these different emotions at once? Rage was bubbling up inside him at the thought that someone had harmed her, and upset that she had so stupidly run off to protect another person with no regard for her own safety. Most of all, he wanted to hurt whomever had brought her harm, nevermind the consequences that would bring to him. Surely a mere colleague wouldn't incite such violence in him?

I do care, he thought. And he realized he was right. He cared an awful lot for her, though he couldn't understand how or why. He'd assumed his capacity to love had long been left behind after Lily Potter's death. And here he was now, so overcome with emotions for his old teacher that he could burst. He felt his feet move now, felt the way the air pushed against him as he made his way to where she lay, midway between the school entrance and Hagrid's cabin.

As he approached her still figure, Severus crouched so he was leaning over her form.

"Minerva," he managed weakly but there was no answer. She wasn't stirring any longer. 

He unclasped her cloak and moved his trembling hand over her throat for a pulse. He waited for a whole minute, panic seizing at him when he couldn't find it. And then he heard it, the soft pounding of her heart over the thick layers of robes she had on. A second later, he caught her pulse. It was weak but it was there. He let out a breath he didn't know he'd been holding, sighing loudly as his ears became accustomed to the sound of her heartbeat.

She was alive.

He sat back a little, moving to draw his wand out. A stretcher was conjured out of thin air, and he gently lifted Minerva so she was seated comfortably against it.

As he made to stand so he could take her over to Poppy, the figures over the hill came running down to meet him. A puffy-faces man wheezed as he came to stop by the floating stretcher.

”Is she alright?” he asked, panting. “I thought she was going to attack us-“

”Attack you? She didn’t even have her wand out!” Severus hissed back.

”We couldn’t have known that, could we?” another wizard retorted back.

Severus had several more things to say but he felt it was more urgent that Minerva received her muchly-needed care first. Without answering, he turned, feeling the wind pick up against his heavy cloak.

”Hem. Hem.”

The anger that rippled through Severus in that moment was unexplainable. There was a raw sort of energy that ripped through him, shooting straight into his chest that he had to grit his teeth before his lips spewed words he’d regret. Slowly, he turned to meet the eyes of a cold, smiling woman.

”Yes?” he said, fully aware that his tone conveyed annoyance.

”Where do you think you’re taking her?”

”I would have thought it obvious. The Hospital Wing, of course.”

Not wanting to drag this out any further, he spun back, hand gripping the side of the stretcher tightly. But, the woman was far from done.

”That won’t be necessary,” she called out, still speaking in that absurd, girlish voice.

”She is injured,” Severus replied, “I am taking her over to Poppy.”

”No. Dawlish, you will bring her there.”

Another wizard who’d been standing behind Umbridge the whole time looked around wildly before taking a step toward Minerva. Severus crossed an arm over her protectively, a vicious look upon his face.

”Are you disobeying my orders?” Umbridge asked calmly.

“I’d much rather take her there myself. Wouldn’t want any unfortunate incidents happening to Professor McGonagall now, would we?”

Umbridge smiled horribly. “Why, Professor Snape, are you insinuating that the man I placed under my charge is incapable of following my instructions? Or do you suspect me of something much worse?”

Severus relaxed his face. “I only meant…it’d be better if I was with her…”

”I wasn’t aware that you and her were so close,” Umbridge said with a raised eyebrow.

Severus could feel his cheeks burning now. “Of course, not! But it would be unseemly of me to neglect a Head of House….”

”Dawlish will take her,” she said again, sternly this time. “I will need to have a word with you, Snape.”

Dawlish moved ahead to take over Severus’ position over Minerva. The two men stood there briefly, eyeing each other as though poised for attack, but Severus eventually released his hold over the stretcher. Pleased with himself, Dawlish waited for Severus to step aside so he could maneuver Minerva away from the crowd and back into the castle.

Severus waited until the two figures vanished behind the doors before turning back to Umbridge.

Behind her, he saw several witches and wizards standing with shared looks of worry and concern. He recognized some of them. There was Dawlish, the man with Minerva, who was an Auror  Dumbledore had initially planned to recruit into the Order but had changed his mind (Severus realized why now). Then there were two other men-Warren and Maurice-they'd previously been in charge of guarding the lower-level prisoners at Azkaban. The Ministry must have bought out their loyalty by bringing them out of Azkaban. The last one was a woman whose face was familiar, though he couldn't recall where he'd seen her from. He thought he’d placed her when Umbridge cleared her throat and Severus was cut off from his thoughts.

”What were you and Minerva doing outside the castle at this hour?” the toad asked.

”Rounds.”

”It wasn’t your turn tonight.”

"I wasn't aware that we needed to take turns. Besides, Minerva and I were covering the grounds, which you left out in your schedule."

Umbridge shook her head and laughed forcibly. "There is nothing outside that needs to be guarded."

He raised an eyebrow. "And there is inside?"

"The point of these rounds is to make sure that these children are not up to anything they shouldn't be. You know as well as I do the kind of illicit activities that go on around here."

"Such as?"

"You've been here longer than I am. Or do you mean to say in all the years you've taught here, not one single student has crossed the line?"

Severus did not speak for a moment. To deny her outright would be a lie, both of them would know that much.

"Though the children are a danger to themselves, I still think it prudent for us to protect them from...external danger."

She scoffed. "You want to be careful, Snape. You're starting to sound a lot like the old coot," she said, her eyes flickering towards the castle entrance where Minerva had been carried off to, "you don't want to be the next one on that stretcher."

He offered her a horrible smile of his own, picturing all the dark things he wished he could do to her. The Cruciatus Curse would come in handy especially at a time like this.

"And what of Professor McGonagall?" he asked softly.

"What about her?"

"Will there be no accountability for tonight's incident?"

She giggled, her high voice carrying clearly throughout the chilly night air. "Accountability," she said, "Minerva McGonagall is lucky I haven't ordered for a warrant against her!"

"And what crime has she committed unless you count helping a fellow staff member from unforeseen danger as one?"

"That half-breed was showing signs of violence and aggression. It was only natural that we restrained him-to avoid any harm befalling us all," Umbridge exclaimed, trembling with excitement now. "If anything, he was the unforeseen danger."

"You were trespassing onto the property of a Hogwarts Professor-"

"His title as a teacher in this school has been revoked, and as of now he remained at large a criminal who has escaped the law. The next time anyone lays eyes on him, I assure you, Professor, justice will be served accordingly."

"Duly noted, Headmistress," Severus said, voice dripping with irony.

His dry reaction sparked some fury in her, much to his own satisfaction.

"You know, Snape, as time goes by I find my patience wearing awfully thin for you."

"I can't imagine why," he replied half-heartedly. He didn't know why he was behaving this way, childishly mocking her as though she were nothing more than a petulant student whining about homework.

"The only reason I have allowed you to remain in this school after that ridiculous Dumbledore incident is because Lucius Malfoy has vouched for you."

"Are you implying I had something to do with Dumbledore's leave from the school?" Severus asked feigning surprise.

"I told you, all those months ago, that if you knew about anything the students were planning that you'd report it back to me-"

"Which I have. Dumbledore's Army was supposedly arranged by the headmaster himself. I had no prior knowledge of it."

Umbridge laughed sarcastically. She looked around at the Aurors behind her before stepping in closer to him.

"Do you really think I'd believe the word of a Death Eater?" she whispered.

Severus froze momentarily.

"My name has been cleared," he bit back a second later. "You can check the Ministry records-"

"Yes, and it was cleared by none other than Albus Dumbledore. You can sneak and slither your way around the school, Snape, but I know with whom your loyalty lies. You may think to protect Dumbledore because you feel you are in debt to him-you and Minerva-but his time is running out. And with it, your own. I've warned you twice, now. There will not be a third time, Snape."

Severus bowed in response, for it was the only thing he could do. She dismissed him with a wave of her hand before turning to address the people behind her. 

Counting numbers in his head to remain calm, Severus spun around in the direction of the castle. His mind plagued with worry over Minerva as he hurried up the steps towards the Hospital Wing, hoping against all hope that he'd find her in one of the beds, talking with Poppy cheerily as she always was. He could almost imagine bursting through the door and seeing her there, and then he'd make a snark comment about her stupidity, which she'd respond with a shake of her head.

Alas, as he threw open the door, he found only Poppy standing in the middle of the room. Her face was swollen, it was clear she'd been crying and as he strode towards her, she flung herself into his arms. Severus stood there for a moment, fearing the worst as Poppy sobbed onto his chest. He didn't speak because he didn't want to know what had happened. She had been breathing, he told himself, she had been alive. Unless Dawlish had done something to her, of course.

"Where is she?" he asked, finally.

"There was nothing I could do," Poppy replied, her voice muffled as her face pressed against him.

"Poppy," Severus whispered, breaking them apart as he looked down at her. "Where is Minerva, Poppy?"

"They took her away," said Poppy tearfully. "She's gone."

Chapter Text

Severus was convinced that there was a prevailing curse on the castle. That had to be the only explanation for all the sudden bad luck that had befallen its occupants as of late. Dumbledore had been forced out, Harris chased off of the grounds and Minerva was lying unconscious somewhere in  a room in  St. Mungo’s. All of it in a month, too.

Perhaps it was a sign of the times, he thought darkly. The beginnings of the end, there was no doubt about it now. The Dark Lord  had regained his full strength and his horde of allies and followers stood behind him with a reckoning force-and what they lacked in skills, they made up for in numbers. And here they were, Dumbledore’s people, faring in the worst imaginable way. As the days grew, more and more Order members were being picked off one by one-they were either murdered or forced to go into hiding. Even Hogwarts, which had been one of the safest places in the wizarding world, was on the verge of endangerment. The  Dark Lord’s forces were just outside the walls, and it wouldn’t be soon before they brought it down to ruins. Severus only hoped he wouldn’t live long enough to see his only home go up in smoke and flames, he couldn’t bear the thought of facing the castle in its ruins.

And to make  matters worse, Severus felt his own hope dwindling as he was slowly losing his place, both with the Order of the Phoenix and the Death Eaters. With the Dark Lord growing wary of Severus’ lack of contribution to the group, he rarely had anything to report to the Order these days. Many were beginning to question him again, though they were decent enough to do it behind his back when they thought he wasn’t listening. 

He wasn’t faring well with the Death Eaters, either. This was a much bigger problem than having to sit through Black’s usual accusations. That, he could handle. But the threat that a recently-freed-from-Azkaban witch posed towards him was a greater risk. Now that she was back among her old associates, she had started her work of poisoning the others against him. She had always hated him, way before he had agreed to spy on the Dark Lord in exchange for Lily’s safety. Now that his role as a spy had been made clear, it was evident the witch would stop at nothing to spread rumoured tales of his treachery to everyone else. His constant absence from important missions only made the witch’s goal easier to achieve.

That was the only reason why he was stood in the drawing room in Malfoy Manor now, seated among a clump of his old comrades instead of protecting the students from Umbridge back at Hogwarts. It had only been a half hour and he was tired out by the immensely boring conversations the rest were having. He did his best to play along with the  rest, nodding incessantly at the  unimportant chatters of their boring life at the Ministry or an affair they had with a barmaid down by Hogsmeade. As one of them started to talk about how he had arranged for an illegal gnome fight, Severus decided that the evening had been a complete waste of a perfectly good afternoon. He stood and mumbled an excuse about being needed back at the castle. Several threw him suspicious glances, and others an affronted expression for rudely interrupting what he thought was the stupidest story he’d heard-but most appeared glad to be rid of his presence. They waved him off, heads turning back to focus on the gnomes and how they react under the Imperius Curse.

Not one to complain, Severus made his way away from the Death Eaters and towards the Manor’s exit. Cursing his own foolishness for attending the stupid gathering in the first place, he moved past the various rooms and through the never-ending hallways. He walked past a room and stopped mid-way as he recognized the voice coming from behind the door. Curious more than anything, he placed his ear against the door and strained his ears to listen. He heard Bellatrix's voice from inside and figured she was probably up to something that would be worth investigating. Severus held his breath as he paused to hear anything he could from inside.

Though her voice was muffled, the way she spoke suggested she was having a conversation with another person albeit it being in a very harsh tone.

"You understand the orders we have given you?" the witch was saying in a very soft whisper.

Severus strained his ear to catch the other person's voice but there was nothing, not even a murmur in response.

"You will follow it exactly as we have told you?" Bellatrix said again.

Once again, her question was answered by a lengthy silence. Severus wondered if perhaps there had been some sort of charm cast over the other speaker so no one else but Bellatrix could hear them. But if she really wanted to be careful, as she was the sort who was, she would have cast a charm over her own voice too rather than risk being heard. Putting this away in a corner in his mind to be examined later, he turned his attention back to the new voice that had spoken through in a much gentler, softer voice. This time, Severus felt his breath quicken as Narcissa's voice came from the room.

"If you do this, you know how you will be rewarded, won't you?" Narcissa's voice echoed through.

He felt regret all of a sudden for deciding to intrude in on the conversation now that he knew Narcissa was involved in whatever Bellatrix's scheme was. He realized how it was to forget how Narcissa was every much a follower of the Dark Lord as the other Death Eaters were. Save for the clean spot on her forearm, she was just as tainted as he was, though one wouldn't be able to tell from looking at her face alone. She was kind, much kinder than most people. And she could love people as they deserved to be loved, too. Despite all of those qualities, though, he knew she had done many horrible things in her life-all in the name of the Dark Lord. Not unlike himself, he thought.

Severus shook his head absent-mindedly. He had become weak. For years and years, he had built a wall between himself and everyone else so as to not get hurt as much as he had in the past. But all of that was in vain, now. He had let his emotions get the best of him, had allowed so many others to become his weakness. Dumbledore. Minerva. And as much as he hated to admit it, even Potter. And above them all, just an inch below where Lily was stood Narcissa Malfoy. He owed all of his loyalty to them, though he was sure there was much more for Narcissa. But it had all been a folly, he could see it clearly now. Narcissa Malfoy had played the part of a neglected maiden in distress too well, and she had manipulated him to the point that he realized he would do almost anything for her-though he would never admit it to himself save for this moment here and now.

As good and kind as Narcissa Malfoy was, she was a villain-just as much as he was. He had been blinded by whatever it was that he felt for this woman and had forgotten she was just as much an enemy to him as her sister was. The woman he thought was overcome with as much loneliness as he was had been secretly working to bring the downfall of the Order of the Phoenix, and with it, Dumbledore's. He was dismayed with this sudden revelation he was having, and a part of him wished to deny this desperately.

She was forced into this, said a smaller voice in his head. She has no choice but to comply, the voice reasoned, but you can save her. Severus snorted aloud at the thought. He couldn't even help himself, he was dying from all the neglect he had suffered from his parents and his own self-and he thought he could help her? She didn't need help, he thought sardonically. She was wealthy and powerful, she had a loving husband and an equally loving child who Severus was sure would go to the end of the world for her. She didn’t need anything at all, especially not from him.

"Severus."

He froze at the sound of the silvery voice ringing in his ears. Quickly snapping away from his delusional thoughts, he straightened himself and turned to face the man behind him.

Lucius Malfoy stood there, cane tucked beneath his arm, looking as grandiose as he usually did. He was watching Severus carefully, as though deciding between calling him out or pretending he hadn’t just caught him snooping in on his wife and her sister’s private conversation.

"Bit too old for eavesdropping, aren't you?" Lucius asked with a smile, though there wasn't anything friendly about the way he said it.

He was just about to answer when he heard a loud clicking noise, and to his absolute horror (and annoyance), the door behind him opened as Bellatrix peered out of it.

There was a look of puzzlement in her expression as she caught sight of Severus, which quickly escalated into a sudden fury.

”Ha!” she cried, pointing at him with her twisted-looking finger-claws. “Snape! What the hell are you doing here?”

Severus faced her now, eyes moving between her and Lucius as he decided his next course of action. Bellatrix had been spending all her time telling people he was a traitorous rat, and this was the exact sort of thing that would convince everyone that she was right. It didn’t look good that he had sneaked away from the others (by lying to them too) and had decided to stop precisely by the door where Bellatrix had been engaging in a secretive conversation with an anonymous person. Even if it couldn’t plaster him as a spy, it would still tarnish his reputation a little. No one liked a sneak, especially not the Dark Lord or his followers.

He opened his mouth to speak, and was glad that Narcissa had selected that exact moment to join her sister by the door. There was a fleeting expression of surprise on her face as she laid eyes on the sight of her sister, husband and Severus standing there rigidly. But it quickly resolved into a fond smile as she greeted Severus.

"Severus," she said sweetly. "Not trying to leave early, I hope?"

More than glad to be distracted from the present tension, Severus intended to reply her when Bellatrix stepped between them aggressively.

”You didn’t answer my question-what were you doing just then?” she yelled. “You were listening through the door, weren’t you?”

"Nonsense," Lucius replied with a smirk. "He's much too old for that. Aren't you, Severus?"

Severus raised an eyebrow but upon seeing the expression on the taller man's face, he immediately nodded. "Of course I am."

"Then why were you standing by the door?"

It was apparent that Bellatrix wanted to sink her claws into him. She was awfully insistent and Severus knew that attempting to change the subject would only drive her thirst to interrogate him further. Handling a witch like her required a frustrating level of intelligence. She was a hound when she needed to be, and as much as he loathed to admit it, her instincts were usually right. And the Dark Lord knew that, too. It was why he dispatched her on interrogative missions-she brought results. It was also why Severus tended to evade her presence-it was just a safer precaution.

"Now, now, Bella, that's no way to speak to our guest, is it?" Lucius called out, reaching over to place a hand over Severus’ shoulder. Severus felt his body tighten against the other man's hold, though his face remained inscrutable.

"I certainly didn’t invite him here!” Bellatrix scoffed.

"Bella, Lucius is right. There's no need to be so unkind," Narcissa replied, coming to grip her sister's arm.

But Bellatrix was far from convinced. She stepped towards Severus, dark eyes staring up at him wildly. "Can't wait to run off to tell Dumbledore about what you've heard, can you? Did you hear everything we said?"

Severus smiled. "And why exactly would I do that?"

"Go on," she replied scathingly, "go on and act like you haven't got a clue about what I'm talking about, Snape. My sister may not believe me now, but soon she'll see your true colors. Her and her husband and everyone else who doubts what I think of you."

"And what is it you think of me?"

"Traitor," she replied roughly.

"Alright, enough is enough. Bellatrix, I will not have you throwing absurd accusations in Severus' face. He may tolerate it but I certainly won't. Why don't you join the others? Perhaps find some other way to entertain yourself than attacking this poor man here."

Bellatrix remained there for several short seconds, simply staring up at Severus. He returned her glare with a smug smirk, appearing unbelievably unbothered about the entire thing.

"This isn't over," she said in a final tone.

"Of course it isn’t," Severus responded.

She turned, her hair flying wildly around her as she stomped away. With her sister away, Narcissa took the spot she had been in, offering him an apologetic expression.

"I think we'll have to arrange for you two to never be in the same room. I'd hate to think what would happen if I should have you over for tea with Bella," the blonde joked.

"I’d rather you didn’t. You may think me rude, but I’d rather dine with Argus Filch, his cat and about ten of the illegal things Hagrid has got growing in the forest," he replied.

The two settled into an air of comfort, as though forgetting Lucius’ presence there entirely.

"Severus," he called seriously. "Might I have a word with you?"

"Of course," Severus said with a nod, chest filling with dread once more.

"Excellent, that means you're staying? Why don't we head out to the garden-? I'll have the tea brought-"

Narcissa fell silent as Lucius raised a hand to stop her.

"Just me and Severus, I'm afraid, Narcissa. Matters between us men."

"Oh," Narcissa replied, disheartened by her husband's rather rude interjection. "What is it? Does the Dark Lord need something?"

Lucius chuckled lightly. "Not this time, no. You head on back...find your sister...you know what she's like when she's around too many people."

"You're right," she said airily, though Severus could detect discomfort in her tone. Before she left, she stopped before him.

"You'll stay? After your chat with Lucius?"

"The headmistress has placed a new curfew, for both the staff and students."

"Right."

He watched as Narcissa turned away, no longer in high spirits. 

"You’ll have to forgive her. Me being away has her fastening attachments to anyone or anything that will show her attention.”

”Don’t we all,” Severus murmured. “How have you been? I hear the Ministry’s been reshuffling everything…”

Lucius smiled, as though that could answer Severus’ question. All it did, though, was only make him slightly nervous. The man was usually up for a quick chat but today he seemed distant, as though he were preparing himself for something difficult.

”Come, let’s take a walk,” he said, gesturing towards the garden outside.

They walked quietly through the neatly-trimmed hedges and past the enormous fountain surrounded by white peacocks. The birds flocked about, arrogantly majestic as they strutted around him.

”I heard about the mishap at Hogwarts the other day…the half-breed giant is gone?” Lucius asked.

”Yes,” Severus replied. “The next time he’s seen, it’s Azkaban, I suppose.”

Lucius smiled. “Didn’t you hear? They’re assigning him with the Dementor’s Kiss. The governors don’t think a monster like him is safe for schoolchildren. When I suggested for him to be put out of his misery, they jumped at the chance.”

Severus listened, stomach churning at the news. He only hoped Hagrid would be wise enough to stay inside the forest, at least until Dumbledore was allowed to return to Hogwarts or they could somehow reverse this entire ordeal.

"And Minerva McGonagall?" Lucius asked again. Severus looked up at him.

"St. Mungo's. No news, yet."

"I am sorry to hear that, then." Lucius said, though Severus could not detect any sympathy in his stony expression. "I suppose it is for the best...I hear the Minister is thinking about replacing her with a Ministry staff. I suppose it's time...she's far too old to be of any use to the students."

"I suppose," Severus replied, trying to mean it. He knew there was no way he could disagree with Lucius now, not when he had a relationship to maintain. His senses were highly alert, and he had a feeling that Lucius defending him for Bellatrix was due to an ulterior motive. What it was, he did not know, but he knew it couldn't be anything good. Feeling impatient as it was, he stopped where he was and turned to the other man.

"You wanted to talk, Lucius?"

Lucius smiled. "Yes."

"What is it? Does the Dark Lord require something from me?"

"No, it has nothing to do with the Dark Lord," he said, the smile faltering from his face. "Its about my wife."

"Narcissa?" Severus asked with surprise. "Is she alright?"

"She is-there's nothing to worry about...with her."

Severus frowned, obviously confused by Lucius' riddled words. "Then what-?"

"I've heard you've been frequenting visits to my wife when I am away, Severus. Is that true?"

Severus felt himself pale, and wore a look of disgust on his face. "You've been speaking to Bellatrix."

"That is of no concern to you, Severus. Have you, or have you not, been coming to see my wife?"

There was no smile now, nor any pleasantness in his speech. It had been a while, but Severus recognized the slight anger in the way Lucius carried himself now.

"I have," Severus replied, simply.

"Have you? And what services have you required of my wife that have warranted such constant goings and comings?"

"Lucius, I-"

"I place great trust upon you, Severus, did you know that? Ever since you were a boy, I never questioned your loyalty to me-not once. Not even when there were whispers about backstabbing and betrayals. That was how much faith I had on you."

Severus waited quietly, unsure of what he could say to appease the man standing before him.

"And I still have that same faith in you now, even after all these years. So, let me ask you now, Severus...is there anything you wish to confess to me regarding my wife? Is there any truth at all, even a little, to those rumors I have been hearing all these while?"

"No. No, there isn't."

They were silent and then-"Do you believe me? Lucius?"

The blonde beamed, stretching a hand over to place around Severus and pulled him closer. 

Severus relaxed, throwing a smile of his own at his friend, anxiousness now replaced with a sudden breath of relief. No matter what his feelings towards Narcissa were, he was sure it was not enough to overpower his loyalty towards Lucius. They were neither brothers nor the best of friends, but he was the closest thing to either one of those things. And Severus had a moral code, no matter the dastardly appearance he showed of himself. In a year or two, everything would change and his fate would come to lie in the hands of his allies. For Severus, this meant as many people he could leech on to-whether it was the Dark Lord's men or Dumbledore's. It was essential he remain favorable to both sides, and it was the only way they could ever hope to win the war against the Dark Lord's forces.

"Of course, I do," replied Lucius. "You're all I have left, Severus."

He nodded, quite speechless at Lucius' sudden revelation.

"Is everything alright? With the Dark Lord I mean-Narcissa mentioned you’ve been with him an awful lot lately…”

“Ah,” said Lucius, “you know how he is. He has his wants, some which may be impossible at times…and when one fails…well, I suppose you know all about that, don’t you?”

It wasn’t a challenge or an insult, just two men acknowledging the truth of the reality at hand. Lucius was Voldemort’s right-hand man, always had been for a long time. Severus’ job was dangerous, yes, but Lucius was in a much terrifying situation. The Dark Lord trusted the man completely, and he shuddered to think what would happen if Lucius were to fail him.

”Then don’t fail,” Severus said, earning him a chuckle from Lucius.

”Easier said than done, isn’t it?”

The younger of the two agreed.

”I think I’d better get on,” Severus announced. “The students will eat Dolores Umbridge alive, otherwise.”

Lucius released his grip, allowing Severus to step away with a final bow. He had just turned when he heard the man call him out. Facing him once more, Severus looked to Lucius with a questionable glance.

”If, by any chance, I do fail…you’ll-you’ll make sure my family comes to no harm?”

There was ample hesitation in Lucius’ voice and Severus had to commend him for his bravery in this moment. To even have uttered such words could easily have sparked the fury of the Dark Lord, should he have asked anyone else. But he had asked him, Severus, and no matter with whom his allegiance lay, Severus was determined to keep the Malfoys safe.

”You needn’t worry. You haven’t failed him, yet.”

Lucius took a step forward.

”I am not looking for assurance, Severus. I just need to know that if the time comes, you will do everything in your power to keep Narcissa and Draco away from harm…do I have your word?”

It wasn’t a difficult decision. Lucius had saved Severus more times than he could count. He had vouched for him, both him and Narcissa-this was the least he could do.

”Yes,” Severus whispered. “I will-of course, I will.”

Lucius clapped his hands together, looking at him rather cheerfully.

”Now come,” he was saying. “I will escort you out to the Apparition point myself.”

Without another word, the two of them began to trudge further out towards where the enormous iron gates stood. Though they walked in hushed steps, Severus felt oddly comforted with Lucius’ presence and hoped more than anything that no terrible harm should fall upon his friend.

Chapter Text

The trip to Malfoy Manor ha d been a near waste, Severus thought as he trudged his way up the hill and back towards his office. Not a complete waste though, because he did have that secret conversation Bellatrix and Narcissa had with the anonymous force in the room-but that presented a riddle of it’s own. How on earth was he supposed to know who they’d been speaking to when he hadn’t heard a word from anyone else but the two sisters?

His thoughts were rudely interrupted by a loud bellowing cry coming from deep within the forest. He turned his head in the direction of  the sound, and briefly considered going in to inspect it. Though, he wondered if it was perfectly safe to go in there alone. He had before, of course, but he’d always known what to expect in there (Harris would warn him beforehand) and this time, he had feeling it was far too dangerous to venture in alone. 

“One problem at a time, Severus,” he said aloud with a shake of his head. 

He moved forward, walking past as he ignored the anguished cries that came from the direction of the forest. He had  only just passed by the Great Hall when he saw Draco running towards him. His small, pointed face was painted with a gloating expression, cheeks flushed and a pleasant smile plastered across his face. A spitting image of Lucius, he thought, and just a little of his mother's charm hidden away in his grayish blue eyes.

"Professor-Professor Snape!" the boy cried, swiping away at a bead of sweat on his forehead.

"What is it, Draco? Has something happened?" he asked, noticing the lack of concern in his tone. It went by unnoticed by Draco, though, who was almost jumping up and down in excitement.

"It's Potter and his friends!" Draco exclaimed gleefully. "Professor Umbridge caught Potter lurking in her office but he won't tell her why! She's asked me to get you-says you can help her."

Severus paused, taking time to roll his eyes and curse inwardly. He had been away for less than a day and Potter had somehow managed to land himself in trouble once more, and with Umbridge nonetheless. There was only one reason the boy would have broken into the witch's room-he'd probably wanted to speak to his godfather. It was strange, however, that he had the sudden inclination to call on Black...especially when he knew how dangerous it was for him to do anything out of bounds with Dumbledore gone. The boy certainly was stupid, Severus had no doubt of that, but he knew Potter had some ounce of intelligence when it came to crossing the line. And Draco had mentioned his friends. Surely Granger wouldn't have allowed for such reckless behavior? There had to be some other explanation, Severus thought before scoffing. Was he growing soft?

"Lead the way," he muttered over to Draco, who needed to be told less. With his chest jutting out forward, he began to march towards Umbridge's office. Severus followed, already knowing what the witch was about to ask of him.

Idiots. Fools. The worst of the worst.

Severus had quite a few more words saved up for Potter and his friends, but thought it'd be best to make sure everything was safe before cursing them for all it was worth. As if it wasn't enough that he had to find some way to leave the castle undetected to check on Black, he'd been placed on probation for not providing the cat-loving toad-witch with more Veritaserum. He'd been giving her useless ones that'd been too diluted to work, and even those had been worn out after her last interrogation of the staff (she'd been wanting to find out if any of them knew where Dumbledore was-which was pointless even if he'd given her the real thing...Dumbledore hadn't bothered telling anyone at all about it). 

Probation, he thought glumly. Both Trelawney and Hagrid had been put under probation, and look at where they were. Sacked and outcast, one to the corner of her tower and the other into the Forbidden Forest. If he were sacked, he didn't think he'd be allowed to live in the dungeons. He'd have no choice but to go back to Spinner's End. And if he wasn't allowed back at the castle, surely the Dark Lord would have him stay by his side. His position as a spy would be compromised then-the only reason he hadn't been accused of treachery yet was because the Dark Lord needed someone to spy on Dumbledore. Whether he liked it or not, his time was slowly coming to an end.

But he didn't have time to wallow in his misery right now, no. He had important matters to attend to. Potter had attempted to send him a poorly-disguised message back at Umbridge's office. He's got Padfoot, Potter had said. He's got Padfoot at the place where it's hidden. It didn't take much guesses to decode the nonsensical blabber Potter had shouted at him. Padfoot was Black-the few seconds he'd gotten the chance to look into his thoughts he'd seen the image of Black in the Department of Mysteries. Potter must've seen a vision of his godfather with the prophecy, though that made almost no sense at all. Black wasn't allowed to leave his mother's house-though he had indicated it more than a few times in the past, Severus was sure that Black wasn't that much of a madman to waltz into the Ministry of Magic to take a glance at the prophecy. It was simply too ridiculous to believe. It must have simply been the Dark Lord feeding Potter with altered memories to make it seem as though he was, and he snorted at the stupidity of it all.

Potter had seemed convinced though, he thought darkly. The way he had shouted at him in desperation was evidence enough for the boy's concern for his dear godfather. There was no way that the boy would believe it, was there? Severus sighed deeply. Of course he would. He was a typical Gryffindor at heart, and those were as foolish as they came. The second they knew someone was threatened, they'd go wands blazing into the night. Though, little good that ever brought. Severus was convinced that the boy would go to any lengths to make sure Black was safe, and knew that if he didn't interfere, it would only lead to more trouble.

Annoyed and angry at himself, he swept off in the direction of the kitchens. His arrival was met with several stares from the rest of the house-elves, probably wondering if he'd come down to complain about their food. He looked around and spied Winky sitting on a chair by the corner, legs swinging as she munched on a piece of chocolate. He strode over to her, and watched as her eyes widened and she quickly stuffed the chocolate into her frayed dress and jumped off to greet him.

"Winky apologizes Master Snape, did Sir need me for something?"

"You have ways to leave Hogwarts without anyone knowing?" he asked.

She nodded, stepping towards him excitedly. "Did Master Snape wish to go somewhere without people knowing, Sir?"

"That is the plan...though it might be impossible for me to leave while all channels of communications are being monitored...do you think you can send a message for me?"

"Of course, Sir. What message is you wanting for Winky to send, Master Snape?"

Severus looked at her for a minute, deciding if it what he was doing was the right thing to do. Despite her history serving dark wizards, he knew he could trust her. But as he stood there, surrounded by hundreds of house-elves in the kitchens, he realized there was no point to it at all. Grimmauld Place was a protected location, and that meant he wouldn't be able tell her where exactly she had to go.

"Sir?" she asked again, hopping from one foot to the other in a bout of nervousness.

"It appears I won't have need for your service after all, Winky," he said, dejected. "The place I need you to go...it's enchanted...that means you won't be able to enter it unless I'm with you."

"Oh," she said, mirroring his disappointment. And then- "but why isn't Master Snape coming with me, then?"

He stared at her with a raised eyebrow. "Come with you? How?"

"We house-elves can Apparate with witches and wizards, Master Snape," she said coolly.

"Really?" he asked in disbelief. He was nearing forty and there were still a million things he had yet to learn about the wizarding world. Then again, he couldn't blame himself for his ignorance. The world hadn't been entirely too kind to the house-elves, and he doubted they'd ever share their secrets with the very people who had enslaved them into centuries of service. It really went to show that wizards and witches thrived on the belief of their own superiorities, though they were very much mistaken. Ignorance is bliss, after all, he thought dryly.

Winky nodded again. "Master Snape can think of the place and we will go there, Sir."

"Right...how would we-?"

The house-elf didn't answer, but instead reached out to take his hand. Her hands were clammy and uncomfortable, but Severus was not one to complain about the most mundane of things. He closed his eyes, repeating the words Grimmauld Place in head several times before he heard a loud crack!. His ears buzzed as he landed feet first on solid ground. As he glanced around, he was standing just a street away from where Black's house was hidden away by the protective charm.

"You're unable to take us inside directly?"

Winky seemed to be deep in thought as she regarded his question. "It appears so, Sir. Is Master Snape angry that Winky has failed?"

Severus shook his head profusely, not wanting the elf to start wailing in public.

"No, no-you've done as I asked, Winky. The Muggles...they cannot see us?" he asked, his eyes glancing towards a Muggle couple who walked by them without sparing a second glance.

"Yes, Sir, we house-elves make ourselves hidden for our safeties, Sir."

"Right," he replied. "Right, well, Winky-do you think you can remain here for the time being? I'm only going to check on something...and then you can take us back?"

"As Master Snape wishes, Sir," she said with a little bow. "But Master Snape needs to hide himself on his own once he lets go of Winky."

He gave her a firm nod, removing his wand with his free hand. As he felt the Disillusionment Charm coat him, he released his hold of the elf’s hand. She placed her arms behind her back and stood rigidly, watching as he took a step away from her. Another Muggle passed by him, humming a little tune, completely oblivious to Severus. Oh to be as blind to magic as they were, he thought mirthlessly before heading towards Black’s home.

He was careful to avoid setting off Mrs. Black’s vicious conjuring, but as soon as he stepped into the kitchen was assaulted by a large figure who toppled him over to the floor. He let out a loud grunt as his body hit the ground and a curse escaped his lips rather harshly. Though, looking up to see Black pinning him against the floor, he retracted his regrets for the use of foul language.

”Black,” he said baring his teeth, “if you don’t get off me-“

He needn’t have bothered. Black appeared to realize it was him at the same time and had quickly jumped on his feet. Severus sat up, head dizzy from the sudden attack. He heard someone coming down the steps and saw Lupin appear by the doorway. His mouth widened in surprise from seeing Severus on the floor and Black standing there sheepishly, arms crossed.

”What happened? I thought I heard someone shouting-?” Lupin asked, shifting his gaze rather tiredly at Black, who simply shrugged.

”I thought we had an intruder,” he reasoned.

”An intruder would have set that bloody rag doll by the door off, wouldn’t they?” Severus spat back, clambering to his feet.

”Oi, watch it,” Black muttered, “that’s my mother you’re talking about.”

Lupin sighed, shaking his head at Black-probably warning him not to start an argument.

”You’ll forgive him, Severus...he’s been on edge all week...”

Severus’ lip curled. “Oh, yes, hiding indoors while the rest of us are fighting in the war must’ve taken a toll on him...he has my deepest sympathies.”

Black started, and this time Severus was ready. His wand was out, jutting out sharply at Black’s face so that the other man retreated.

”You won’t catch me off guard twice, Black.”

”Will you two stop behaving like schoolchildren?” Lupin said, his voice a little rougher than usual.

“Fine, Moony! You ask him why he’s here then. Tell him if he’s come round for tea, he’s not welcome,” Black hissed.

Ignoring Black, Lupin turned to face Severus. “Is  everything alright at Hogwarts, Severus? Did you need something from us?”

”No, I don’t,” he replied with a scowl. “Potter’s been having one of his episodes again, and  this time he’s convinced he saw Black at the Department of Mysteries...”

”What?” Black interjected loudly. Opposite him, Lupin grabbed onto the corner of the desk, his face paling.

”That’s impossible, isn’t it? Sirius is here! You don’t think Harry was seeing the future?” the werewolf asked.

”Is that even possible?” Black followed up, looking to Severus for an answer.

Severus himself was stunned for a second. He hadn’t ever considered that Potter would have been seeing the future. It was ridiculous, but he had assumed the same of Trelawney, hadn’t he? And she had certainly proved him wrong. But there hadn’t ever been any indication that Potter had the gift of a Seer. Dumbledore knew everything, and Severus was sure the headmaster would have alluded to it if he had.

”No,” Severus said with a surge of confidence. “It’s far likely the Dark Lord used the connection shared between them to plant a false memory in Potter’s head...he must know you were his weakness-he was trying to lure him into leaving Hogwarts.”

”But...even if that were true,” Lupin spoke in a small voice, “even if it wasn’t real, what if Harry decides it is? Did you warn him?”

Severus blinked at him. Black gave a roar, pushing aside a chair as he stormed  in his direction.

”You’re telling me you let him believe that I was with Voldemort in the Department of Mysteries, Snivellus? You didn’t think to tell him it was just a ruse?”

”Sirius, calm down-“ Lupin yelled back, rushing forward to stand between him and a raging Black.

”NO, YOU STOP DEFENDING HIM, REMUS! WHAT IF HARRY DECIDES TO GO AFTER ME? WHAT IF VOLDEMORT’S WAITING FOR HIM RIGHT NOW?”

”He won’t. When Potter told me about the dream, he was being kept in Dolores Umbridge’s office-he was probably trying to communicate with you when she caught him. There was no way I could have told him he was being falsely led on by the Dark Lord without compromising my own position now, could I?”

”There-there-you see, Sirius?” Lupin exclaimed. “Severus didn’t have a choice. And I’m sure if Umbridge’s caught him, she’ll have him serving detention...he won’t have the chance to sneak out even if  he wanted to.”

”Finally, the werewolf speaks some sense at last,” Severus drawled as Sirius tried to push past Lupin again.

”Don’t you dare call him that! Wait-did you say Harry tried to speak to me?”

”There wouldn’t be anyone else he’d be trying to talk to, would there? He doesn’t know where Dumbledore is...and the memory concerned you so following that logic...” Severus frowned. “Are you saying he didn’t?”

”No,” Black rasped, turning to Lupin. “Moony-Moony, did you speak to him?”

Lupin shook his head. There was a strained silence in the room.

”It-it doesn’t matter. As long as Umbridge has got Harry, he’s safe. He probably got caught before he could make communication with us,” Lupin reasoned.

Against his better judgement, Severus nodded in agreement.

”I have to make sure,” Black replied pleadingly to Lupin. “I’ve got to make sure he doesn’t think Voldemort’s got me, Remus.”

”And how exactly are you planning on doing that, Black? Do you intend to barge into Umbridge’s office and demand to see your godson?”

”I didn’t ask you for your opinion, you slimy git!”

”Severus is right, Sirius. You’re heading back to the castle?” Lupin asked as he turned over to face Severus. “You’ll make sure Harry knows that Sirius is alright?”

Severus nodded curtly. “Someone needs to tell Dumbledore. If I am to check on Potter right away, someone will have to tell the headmaster about this.”

”I’ll do it,” Lupin replied. “Last I heard, Aberforth was hiding him away in one of his rooms...”

”I’ll take my leave, then.”

Without waiting for a response from either men, Severus turned towards the door.

”Snape,” Black called.

Severus stopped in his tracks, though he didn’t bother facing him. He waited for whatever threat the idiot had for him this  time. 

“If anything happens to Harry,” Black said slowly, “I’ll kill you. I swear by it, Snivellus. Best keep that in mind.”

”Coming from you, Black, that’s not much of a threat.”

And then he was outside, the awful weather outside a perfect mirror of the worry that raged in Severus now.

He wanted, more than anything, to return to the castle and find Potter there-in Umbridge’s room-carrying out his punishment. And yet, as he made his way back to where Winky waited, he was filled with the notion that things had never turned out the way he wanted them to and this was going to be a perfect example of one of those times.

Chapter Text

Severus was starting to suspect that he may have some Seer blood in him after all, what with every one of his worst fears coming true in each passing moment. He entertained the idea for a moment before he realized that that would make him somewhat related to Trelawney and shook away the idea in disgust. No, it was most likely his near-perfect intuition. This theory resurfaced once more as soon as he had reappeared in the castle kitchen with Winky and was suddenly bombarded with a wide-eyed house-elf. It was the one that had close ties with Potter (Dobby, was it-?), and  was staring him down with eyes as big as saucers. Severus attempted to push him away when the elf began to tug frantically at his robes.

"Get off!" he exclaimed, trying to separate the anxious elf away from him.

"Harry Potter is in danger, sir!" the elf shrieked. "You must go to save him at once or else Dobby fears she might harm him!"

"What?" snapped Severus. "What are you talking about-where is he? Where is Potter?"

"He is going into the Forbidden Forest with the woman! Dobby was seeing Harry Potter and Hermione Granger and her!"

Severus felt light-headed, staggering slightly on his feet. Winky jumped to his aid, pulling out the chocolate bar she'd hidden away behind her abominable dress and handing it to him as though that would make everything better. He was reminded for a moment of Lupin and his fondness for solving all matters with a bar of chocolate. 

"No," he breathed, waving her away. He turned to the other distressed elf, trying to discern the best course of action to get Potter back to the castle.

"Dolores Umbridge," Severus said calmly, "she is the woman you saw Potter and Granger with? You're absolutely sure?"

When Dobby nodded again, he pressed on. "Do you have any idea where into the forest she took him? Or why?"

"Dobby has no idea, sir," the elf said with a shake of his head. "Dobby would have followed Harry Potter...Dobby would have...but-but the headmistress has forbidden us from interfering with students! Oh!"

And then the elf launched himself into a large cauldron that the others were scrubbing away at, attempting to injure himself by slamming headfirst against its surface.

"You will stop this," Severus commanded angrily. He had no time for this, his mind raced as he wondered how on earth the toad had taken the children into the Forbidden Forest. Whatever the reason, he was sure it was for no good. Headmistress or not, she couldn't be trusted-not with the lives of the children. If Potter and Granger didn't have their wands with them, they'd be at her complete mercy. His stomach churned at the thought of Umbridge putting them through some unimaginable torture where no one could see. He should have seen this coming-without his supply of Veritaserum, the witch no doubt had decided to take matters into her own hands. He only hoped that her way of interrogation did not involve setting the children loose deep into the forest where treacherous things waited to take their lives.

Wandless and unprotected, they wouldn't last long. He had to search the Forbidden Forest for them and that was that. If the witch had only brought them somewhere by the edge of the forest, he'd have more success in locating them. But knowing Umbridge-no, there was no use thinking about things he wouldn't know until he was there himself. For a brief moment, he wondered if he could bring Filch with him just to compass the nearby area, but the squib was about as useful as a garden gnome most days. And if he knew the mission was to rescue the children from the very woman the bloody man adored, he'd only slow Severus down on purpose. It had to only be him, no one else could do it.

Severus stared down at Dobby, and ushered for Winky to come stand before him.

"I need you both to listen to me carefully. Winky, you need to wait here for me while I search the forest for Potter and Granger-"

"Oh, thank you, sir-Dobby is indebted to you, sir-"

"Listen to me!"

Dobby fell silent, nodding with wide eyes.

"Winky," Severus whispered, kneeling down to face her. "You must wait here for me to return, do you understand? If I do not return in an hour's time, you need to find Madam Pomfrey and tell her where I've went. You must tell her that I haven't returned and to alert Remus Lupin about what has happened. Say yes if you understand what I am saying."

"Winky understands, sir. Winky will come look for Master Snape-"

"No," he said firmly. "No, you find Madam Pomfrey, first. You are by no means instructed to go into the Forbidden Forest to look for me...it's too dangerous."

She nodded again with a high-pitched squeak.

"And you," he said, his attention on Dobby. "In an hour's time, if I haven't returned with Potter and Granger, you will find either Arthur or Molly Weasley-they're probably at the Burrow...tell them everything that has happened. You must tell them to inform Dumbledore and to alert the Order of the Phoenix. They need to go to the Department of Mysteries, tell them to make sure the weapon is safe. Is all that clear?"

Like Winky, the elf nodded. And for now, it was all the assurance he needed at the moment.

"An hour's time," he warned before he swept off in the direction of the Forbidden Forest.

He felt slightly feverish, sweaty fingers gripping his wand as he stepped into the forest. He had gone in there plenty of times, the students often strayed in there for their illicit activities but they'd never strayed too far from where Hagrid's cabin was. Even their detentions went only so far as several feet in. Severus was not afraid, but rather, he was worried about what exactly he would find-and hoped against all hope that he would by some luck discover the children, unscathed and undisturbed. 

He was not arrogant, but he certainly took pride in his skills and knew he was an accomplished wizard. He had confidence that he'd get the children back somehow. After all, there wasn't anything in there that he couldn't handle...not when he'd faced the Dark Lord himself.

He couldn't have been more wrong, he thought bitterly as he lay on the ground staring up at the cloudless sky, his robes splattered in grime and mud. Another bellow echoed through the air and Severus rolled away just in time as an enormous foot came slamming down onto the ground, missing him by inches. As he struggled to get to his feet, the ground rumbled beneath him and the uprooted tree trunk opposite him was crushed to a pulp. He backed away as the giant gave yet another thunderous roar, eyes searching the ground for him.

Severus let out a long curse, making a mental note to kill Hagrid the next time he laid eyes on the man. He was absolutely certain that a wild giant set amok in the middle of the Forbidden Forest had to be Hagrid's work-it was evident enough from the way the giant had been screaming for a "Hagger". Severus had been expecting wild spiders and stingers-that he'd been prepared for, but a giant he certainly was not. As he dashed through the trees in a zigzag motion, he heard the giant's bellows fade away into the distance. Once he knew he had placed enough distance between him and Hagrid's giant, Severus paused to take a breath. He exhaled a sigh of relief as he examined himself for any wounds.

"The next time I see Hagrid, I'll feed him to the Dementors myself," he vowed, looking at the state of his tattered robes and disheveled appearance. His knees were bruised from the number of falls he'd had evading the giant. Just as he thanked Merlin that his wand hadn't miraculously snapped during the chase, he heard a branch snap sharply behind him. He looked up, wand aimed at the thicket of tress where the noise had come from.

"Show yourself!" he commanded, hoping whatever answered wouldn't be any worse from the giant he'd just encountered. It was, however, much worse.

"You see the arrogance these humans have, Magorian? This one commands us in our own forest."

"Be quiet, Bane. We have suffered enough today-"

As he watched, two centaurs came into view. They were large and rather intimidating, but Severus noticed bruises and cuts on their bodies and wondered if they'd had the same unpleasant experience with the giant as he had.

"What do you seek to find here, human? You have trespassed into our territory and should your answer not satisfy us, you shall face the appropriate punishment," said the centaur called Magorian.

The other centaur next to him, Bane, sniggered.

"Trespassing? The Forbidden Forest is a part of Hogwarts-I am no more a trespasser than you."

Bane spat, and drew his crossbow towards Severus. "Give me the command, Magorian, and he shall drop dead at your feet. These humans have forgotten just how powerful we are."

"You see, human? Bane here will not hesitate, and neither will I. You humans have barged in on our lands and have sought to disrespect us. If you do not turn back, I will have Bane here put an end to you."

"Wait-wait, you said us humans-have you seen a woman here with two children?"

Magorian took a step forward. "And what would they be to you?"

"They are students-they belong to Hogwarts. You saw them, didn't you?"

Bane laughed coldly. "Saw them? They attacked us, didn't they? Coming into our land and accusing us of being half-breeds-"

"That was Umbridge-the headmistress. Where is she? She took the children against their wishes!"

Magorian smiled unpleasantly. "You have quite the story, human. When I met them, it was the foals who had lured the witch into the Forbidden Forest."

"Wanted us to carry out the dirty deed of killing her, didn't they? Sick, twisted minds you humans have got, haven't you?'

Severus stared blankly at the two centaurs.

"But...where are they? You...you didn't kill them, did you?" Severus whispered in horror.

"You take us for monsters? No, humans, you are the monsters who destroy living things and take what is not yours."

"What have you done with them?"

An arrow shot past Severus' head, striking the tree trunk behind him. 

"Watch yourself, human."

"Where are they?"

"Bane," Magorian warned as the other centaur loaded up another arrow into his bow. "We asked them to leave the forest but the other human, the woman-she refused. She attacked us and we refused to stand down. We'd captured her when the giant caused a stampede...many of my people had been injured but we managed to leave with our lives."

"And the children?" Severus asked cautiously, watching Bane. "They're with you?"

"No," Magorian replied. "They ran away when the fight broke out. But the other human-the deceitful one, she is with us."

As Severus stood there, the trees began to shake and rumble as he heard sounds of thunderous hooves against the earth. More centaurs emerged, and in the center was a roped and gagged Umbridge. Despite himself, he smirked. She was staring at him, trying to call him for help but all he heard were muffled cries.

"Ah," he said, inspecting her from where he was. She didn't seem to be wounded, just dragged through the woods-and she more than deserved it. "Headmistress."

"This evil creature heads your school?" Magorian asked. "What has happened to Albus Dumbledore?"

Severus looked up at him. "Dumbledore was forced to leave."

"Even amongst themselves, they cannot make peace," Bane replied.

Umbridge began to struggle and somehow managed to spit out the piece of bark they'd stuffed into her mouth. The other centaurs rushed forward to silence her but Magorian raised a hand to stop them.

"You wish to speak, human? Speak."

"Snape!" she cried, trying to free herself from the binds that held her down. "Snape, get me out of here at once-I am commanding you as Headmistress and High Inquisitor!"

Severus reached her in three quick strides. He bent down to examine her, giving her a smug expression to see her so desperate like this. 

"So, the children," he said as he continued to look at her. "They are safe?"

She shook her head. "I-I don't know-ask them to set me free, Snape! This is an order!"

"I wasn't asking you," he replied coldly. He peered up at Magorian.

"They left before real harm could fall upon them. I do not know of their safety but they are not in the forest any longer."

That was all he cared for. Severus stood once again.

"Severus-" Umbridge groaned. "Severus-you are already on probation-if you do not ask them to unhand me-"

"You heard the lady," Severus cut across her sheepishly, getting to his feet. He stuffed his wand into his robe and crossed his arms, glancing down at her with a sneer.

Magorian shook his head. "No, she stays."

Severus raised an eyebrow. "Are you going to kill her?"

Umbridge began to protest, dragging her body across the ground as if that would somehow release her from her binds. "No-no, you can't! I am Headmistress!"

"So you've mentioned. Well, are you?"

"We are not monsters, human. No, we will not kill her. But, if you wish her to be free, we demand to speak with Albus Dumbledore first."

He smirked.

"A bit difficult thing, that," he said. "What with the Ministry on his tail, I doubt he'd risk coming back here for her."

"This is not a negotiation," Bane said horridly. Severus turned back to Umbridge.

"Snape-Severus, Severus...please-please, tell them to let me go-tell them-"

"It certainly seems to be an unsolvable conundrum, doesn't it? Nevertheless, I shall try my best to locate Dumbledore...that is, if you permit me to, headmistress. I wouldn't want to break one too many of your educational degrees or commit treason..."

When she didn't say anything, he squatted on his feet. "Shall I get Albus Dumbledore to come and rescue you, Dolores?"

She noticed the condescending tone, and paired with his sneer seemed to be taken aback for a moment. She looked as though she wanted to lash out at him, to insult him or speak to him in an inferior way she reserved for everyone else below her. But Dolores Umbridge had the sense to realize just how much trouble she was in, and that if she did not agree-would remain the centaurs' prisoner for as long as it took. Severus knew she hated Dumbledore, but hated these creatures far more than any contempt she held for the headmaster.

She glared at him for a long minute before nodding in resignation.

"Right, then. I suppose I'll return shortly with Dumbledore, then. I have your word no...severe harm should fall upon her before I do?" he asked Bane.

"Centaurs keep their promises, human. Just as you remember to keep yours. You will see that you shall be guaranteed safe passage out of the forest."

Severus gave Umbridge one fleeting look, reveling in her obvious misery of being at the centaurs' complete mercy. He thought it'd do her well, especially after going against them so cruelly. He gave her an ironic bow, nodded at Magorian and turned back towards the castle once more. He was sure he'd get back and see Potter and Granger back at the school-it wasn't as if they had any other place to go to after all.

Severus stopped in his tracks, eyes widening in realization.

With everything that had happened, he'd forgotten the reason he'd been looking for Potter in the first place.

The boy hadn't been informed of his godfather's whereabouts.

Potter still thought Black was held captured in the Department of Mysteries.

And with Dumbledore and Minerva gone, and Umbridge and him in the forest, there was practically no one to stop the boy from leaving the castle. 

"Merlin be damned," he cursed, breaking into a run.

Potter.

Chapter Text

Harry lay in the snow covered floor, panting in slight breaths. He could hear his heart hammering wildly against his chest, and he feared it would stop suddenly if he did not do something to calm his nerves soon. Though, that was a bit of a difficult thing to do at the moment seeing that him and his friends' lives were all at risk. Alone right where he was now, Harry realized just exactly what he'd done with a sickened feeling.

He'd brought his friends here, to the Department of Mysteries, hoping to find and save Sirius when the reality was that his heroic dreams had all been for naught. That vision he'd seen of Voldemort torturing Sirius hadn't been real at all, it had all been a trap to lure him into coming here. Voldemort had known Sirius was his weakness, Harry thought bitterly, and he had used that information against him. Hadn't Hermione warned him right after they'd escaped from Umbridge-hadn't she begged him not to believe any of it? And he, Harry, had been insistent that it was real and he had let his friends come here with him.

He had been so sure of it too, had imagined the glorious way he'd storm the Ministry and rescue his father's best friend from danger. It was only when they had stepped foot into the room full of those floating orbs when his stupidity made way for some clarity and he realized that they'd walked into a trap. Just moments after they'd discovered an orb with Harry's name on it, the Death Eaters had ambushed them and they'd only nearly escaped with their lives. But even now, as he lay in the darkened room, did not know whether his friends had managed to escape. When Ginny had blasted apart the shelves and created a momentary distraction, they'd all scattered away and amidst the chaos, Harry couldn't keep everyone together.

The only person he had managed to keep with was Luna but a Death Eater had chased them along the hallway full of doors. She had just been behind him when he stunned the Death Eater and in a moment of panic, had pushed through the first door and fell inside as it closed. The last thing he heard was Luna screaming his name and it had taken him several minutes to realize that she hadn't followed him inside.

Ridden with guilt and fear, Harry got to his feet, shaking the snow-like substance off his clothes. The room was much too dark to see anything so he felt around for his wand, and instead pulled out the orb that had been placed beneath his name. Deciding he'd have plenty of time to examine it once him and his friends made it out of here, he shoved it back into his pocket and brought out his wand.

"Lumos," he said and the tip of his wand lit up.

Harry shone his wand around and realized that the room wasn't a room at all. In fact, it looked like someone had cut out a part of the Forbidden Forest and placed it in here. There were tall blocks of trees going as far as the eye could see, and artificial snow covering the ground which made the entire place seem forlorn and desolate. As a chilly wind blew towards him, Harry tightened his jacket around his body and turned back to the door he had entered from.

He reached for the door knob and tugged. He felt it jiggle and thought he heard a distant voice coming from the other side. Feeling just a little daring, he pushed against it but the door would not budge. Harry swore and turned back to face the gloomy darkness before him. At the present moment, he had only two options. He could either wait here until someone else opened the door or he could head into the forest and find another possible exit out. The first one seemed safer but no one else save for Luna knew he was stuck in here. And if she had been captured, there wouldn't be anyone else that would come for him in here. Harry sighed. It appeared the only way left to get out of the room was to go through the forest. Mustering up his courage, Harry stepped forwards into the darkened forest. His friends were in danger because of his selfishness and stupidity and he would never be able to forgive himself if anything happened to them because of it. He had to get everyone back to Hogwarts, he owed them that much at least.

And with that sole thought in mind, Harry began to walk.

Harry felt he had walked for hours and yet there had been no change of scenery. Everywhere he looked was the same group of tall trees and bushes and boulders, all arranged in an unnatural way as if someone had taken the time to carefully place each of them there. Once or twice, he had heard twigs snapping and wings fluttering but had yet to encounter anything yet in the dark. He kept himself low with only his wand light illuminating the path ahead, keeping him from slipping or falling. He had only just passed by a large tree that he felt he'd seen twice and was about to mark it when he heard loud shouts in the distance.

He stopped, his wand light diminishing, Somewhere far away, he heard the sound of a door shut and voices shouting and cursing. He clutched his wand in his hand as he ducked behind a tree, mind racing as he tried to think of a plan. He had no way to know who it was that had gotten into the room-it could either be one of his friends or the Death Eaters who'd come to find him. Harry couldn't risk announcing himself, not until he knew who it was first. Whoever it was that was in here with him did not know for sure that Harry was in here and the best he could do was catch them off guard.

As Harry held up his dim wand light to the ground and saw the footsteps he'd left behind, he realized that he could use it to trap the person. All he needed was to Stun them-he could handle the next part after he found out who they were. Harry began to run back towards the direction he'd come from and once he spotted the thicket of trees that could hide him well enough, turned to where he had left the second step of footprints.

"Purgeo!" he shouted, watching as the last trace of his steps vanished from the surface of the snow. He gripped his wand and waited, hunched over by the trees for the other trespasser to emerge.

He hadn't waited for long when he heard the rustling of trees coming from the opposite side of the path. Harry drew his wand out, prepared for anything. He just hoped that if it was the enemy that it wouldn't be anyone too difficult. As Harry peered through the bushes, he saw a man startle out onto the path. It was the Death Eater he had stunned earlier, he realized. The man was staggering through the snow, using his wand to blast apart the trees in random directions. Harry ducked as a green jet of light flew past his ears.

"COME OUT, POTTER!"

Harry bit his knuckles to stop his loud breathing. He had taken on the Death Eater before and had full confidence that he could do it again. But he had to act now, while the man's only plan was blasting apart trees. If he discovered Harry's initial footsteps and followed it up to where he'd changed his course, he'd realize Harry was here and he'd be on his guard. He had to do it now, he thought, bracing himself. Harry slowly counted to three and got to his feet quietly, making sure he was still hidden away by the clumps of trees as he edged closer towards the Death Eater. He stopped, turning still when the Death Eater crouched to the floor and examined the snowy path ahead.

"Hey-" he shouted excitedly. "Hey, look-Potter's here! Those are his footsteps-!"

He didn't have a moment to lose. The spell hadn't even left his lips when he felt someone's hand clamp over his mouth and felt himself slammed against the trunk of a tree. Harry struggled against an iron grip, trying to kick himself free from whoever it was that had captured him.

"Be still, Potter!" a voice hissed somewhere above him.

Though it was dark, Harry could recognize who it was from the cold, snide voice alone. He immediately stopped struggling and a moment later, felt Snape's hand leave his mouth.

"Don't move," Snape whispered.

Harry nodded, leaning forward to glance at the Death Eater who was now pointing erratically at Harry's footsteps.

"Oi, Snape!" the Death Eater called and Harry felt Snape turn rigid. "I told you he was here, didn't I? Look-those are his footsteps!"

The man searched round for Snape but his Potions Professor made no indication to the Death Eater. He watched the Death Eater silently, his eyes dark and foreboding.

"We could take him," Harry started but Snape shushed him.

"Quiet."

No sooner than he'd said it when Harry heard the sound of trees rustling from the other side once more. Harry squinted long enough to make out two yellow lights emerge from the darkness of the trees. He realized shortly after that they weren't lights at all. As he watched helplessly under Snape's hold, a creature of some sort slinked out from the trees and towards the oblivious Death Eater who had now started in the direction of Harry's false trail of footsteps. The creature, which looked like a hybrid between a centaur and a lion, gave a sharp growl and the Death Eater turned round with wide eyes, wand slashing the air. But it was too late for the creature jumped just as the spell flew out of the Death Eaters wand. It roared, this time leaping on the Death Eater and bringing the large man down to the ground. Snape tugged harry away just as a loud scream filled the darkness.

"Move," Snape commanded and Harry did not have to be told twice.

Pocketing his wand, he picked up his pace and broke into a run so as to put as much distance between him and the creature as he could. It was only when his knees felt like giving in when Harry finally stopped to take a breath. He swung round, bumping into Snape who looked as though he'd hardly broken a sweat from running. The man had conjured a ball of light that was floating above his head so that the light danced around his face, making him look eerier than usual.

"Did I say you could stop?" Snape hissed, and when Harry held up a hand as he panted for air, "Move, Potter!"

"I know-I know," Harry said through short breaths. "If I could just catch my breath-"

"There is no time! You saw that thing back there, did you not? We're not stopping for anything, Potter! Move!"

Harry had no choice but to obey the man, though he did throw a particular nasty look towards Snape before he did. This time Harry maintained a steady pace, not wanting to lose his breath too quickly this time. He feared Snape would abandon him in here, otherwise. As he walked, he started to feel a mixture of dread and worry as he heard Snape's footsteps echoing behind his own. He knew he ought to be grateful that Snape had stopped Harry from jumping the Death Eater earlier, or else they'd have both been made a meal for the beast back there. But he couldn't help himself from doubting Snape. He'd known that Harry was here even though no one else save for his friends were the only people to know that they'd planned on coming here. Sure, he'd warned Snape that Voldemort had Sirius in the Ministry but hadn't Snape failed to decode that message? And he had entered the room with the Death Eater, hadn't he? Surely if Snape had alerted the Order about where Harry was, they'd have come in here with him instead.

And then another horrible thought occurred to Harry. What if Snape saving Harry from the Death Eater was only just so he could lead Harry away from the others on his own? What if he had intended for the creature to attack the Death Eater alone? And if that was the case, where exactly was he leading him now? Snape had ordered Harry to walk ahead...what if there was a trap somewhere that he wanted Harry to fall into? What if at the end of the room, something much worse awaited him? Something like Voldemort.

As they passed a large boulder, Harry spun round to face Snape.

"What?" snapped Snape.

"Where are we going exactly?" 

"That's not your concern, is it, Potter? Move."

"I have a right to know where it is you're taking me."

Snape's eyes flashed at his indignant tone.

"No," said Snape in a low voice.

"No? What do you mean no-?"

"I mean no, Potter. After today, I suspect you'll finally learn the meaning of the word."

Harry scoffed. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"It means you've brought enough trouble to yourself and everyone else around you, Potter. I've been telling Dumbledore for years that he's been spoiling you by letting you have your way and now...now, he'll finally listen to me, won't he? Oh, how I long to see the look on his face, Potter, when I take you back to the castle and explain to him just exactly what you've done. I mean...leaving school grounds without permission is one thing but breaking into the Ministry for Magic? And bringing your friends along too? Not to mention the danger you have placed yourself and all those around you in. My, my, what a shock Dumbledore will have to see his perfect, golden boy for what he really is..."

Harry couldn't believe it but Snape was actually smiling. There was an expression of utmost satisfaction on his face and his sneer only agitated Harry even more.

"Now, walk, Potter."

Harry's mind raced. He was now almost certain that he was being set up for an ambush now. There was no way Snape was on his side. The only way out of this was to distract him and make a run for it. If he could somehow make it back to the door and pry it open somehow-and that was when he realized that he had brought Sirius' knife with him. He wasn't completely sure the knife would work on the door but he had to at least try.

"No," said Harry in a panicked voice.

"I beg your pardon, Potter?" 

"No," he repeated, more insistent this time. "I wouldn't have come here if you'd taken my message a lot more seriously!"

But Snape didn't seem to give in to Harry's weak attempts at infuriating him. He pointed towards the path silently but Harry still refused to follow along.

"This is-this is because of my dad, isn't it?"

He hated doing this, hated bringing up his dad but it was the only thing that could send Snape over the edge. And right now, he needed exactly that. Snape bared his teeth and taking that as a good sign that his plan was working, Harry continued.

"You hate my dad and Sirius so much for what they did to you-did you even care when I told you Sirius was in danger? You knew, didn't you, you knew what I meant back in Umbridge's office? You knew and you pretended you didn't anyway, didn't you?"

"You watch your words, Potter."

But Harry refused to back down. He had to keep pushing until Snape became vulnerable, and then he would attack. The man lost all sense of himself whenever his anger and hatred consumed him, and that was the only chance Harry had to try and jinx him. He would have several seconds at best so he'd have to try and Disarm him first. Snape wouldn't last for long in the dark without his wand.

"I wonder what Dumbledore will think when I tell him how you ignored my message-what d'you suppose he'll think when he learns you came in here looking for me with a-a Death Eater? Won't look so good for you, will it?"

"Is that what you think, Potter?" Snape asked in a low voice. "Shall I tell you what actually happened or shall I simply let you live in your own fantasies?"

"They were right," Harry said, ignoring him. "They were all right about you. Sirius and the others-they all said Dumbledore was wrong for trusting you...for trusting a-a Death Eater-"

Snape exploded, then. 

"HOW DARE YOU, YOU STUPID LITTLE BOY? YOU WILL NOT SPEAK TO ME IN THAT WAY-NOT AFTER I HAVE JUST SAVED YOUR NECK YET AGAIN! YOU'RE JUST LIKE YOU'RE FATHER, AREN'T YOU? TOO ARROGANT TO BELIEVE YOU MIGHT BE MISTAKEN IN YOUR BELIEFS BUT I'VE HAD ENOUGH OF IT! I'VE PAID FOR ALL MY CRIMES-PAID FOR IT IN BLOOD AND I WILL NOT BE TALKED TO-"

"Expelliarmus!"

Harry saw the surprise in Snape's face as his wand flew from his hand and somewhere into the dark. Harry broke into a run only to trip over something and fall, face flat on the ground. He heard Snape curse and as his heart sunk in his chest, felt himself being dragged up to his feet and slammed once more against the trunk of a tree. Horrified, he stared up into Snape's cold, black eyes. The man looked as though he was about to strangle Harry then and there.

"You're coming with me, Potter!"

"No," Harry yelled, trying to kick himself free from Snape's hold. "You're taking me to him, aren't you? You're taking me to Voldemort!"

Snape hissed aloud as Harry said Voldemort's name and the split second was all he needed. He ducked as Snape's arm came to grab him and rolled away neatly as he would on the Quidditch pitch.

"Come back here, Potter! It's not safe-"

Harry took another tumble, his glasses sliding off his face and falling somewhere in the dark. Harry swore loudly, grasping blindly in the dark. He remembered a little too late that he was a wizard and that he could, in fact, summon his glasses.

"Accio glasses!" he shouted and held his hand out in the air, grabbing the glasses just as Snape knocked into him. Harry heard a crack and felt Snape wrench Harry's wand out of his hand.

"No more magic from you-"

There was a loud howl just then and as they both looked up from the ground, felt something dark glide past. Harry felt distantly cold and knew immediately what it had to be.

"Dementor!" he cried as Snape released him and quickly got to his feet.

"Get up, Potter! Move!" Snape yelled and Harry moved swiftly, coming to stand behind him. Snape had his wand with him and he was helpless without it. He watched as Snape backtracked, searching for the Dementor that had flew past them. Harry slipped his broken glasses on and he too, to the best of his ability, tried to look for where the Dementor had went. They stood there, still as the air around them, both in trepidation of what they had seen-or rather, felt. And then the Dementor was suddenly on him, it had come out of nowhere and had latched itself onto him. Harry cried aloud as he felt his knees give in. He heard Snape call his name but he was drained of all energy, preparing for the burst of memories that often followed alongside a Dementor attack. But that did not come. As he blinked through the darkness, he saw a short burst of light and a four legged animal come charging towards the Dementor in full force. He heard a disturbing yelp and felt the Dementor release from him. Harry gasped as fresh air entered his lungs and felt the life in him return. 

"Lumos!"

Harry had to cover his eyes from the sudden white light that shone directly on his face. As he adjusted to the blurry vision around him, Harry saw Snape's pale face staring down at him, tight-lipped.

"Get up, Potter," he said.

Harry got up. "Where is it? Where did it go?"

"No idea. We have to-"

Snape stopped talking and as Harry followed his gaze, he saw that his Professor was looking down at the orb that lay half-buried in the snow where Harry had lain just moments before. It must've fallen out of his pocket when the Dementor had attacked him. Harry stooped over to retrieve it and quickly shoved it back into his jacket.

"What is that, Potter?"

"The prophecy," Harry said, watching as Snape flinched.

"I mean," he said softly, "why do you have it, Potter?"

When Harry didn't answer, Snape pressed on.

"That is supposed to be in the Hall of Prophecies. Away from where anyone else can take it, Potter."

"Oh," said Harry.

"That's right, Potter. So, I will ask you again, how do you come to have it?"

"I found it. It had my name on it-what is it, anyway? And why's Malfoy and Bellatrix after it? Hang on-is this-? This is the weapon the Order has been guarding, isn't it? This prophecy thing? This is what V-"

"Do not say his name!"

"Right, right-this is what he  wants?"

But Snape seemed too preoccupied with something else to mind Harry's questions.

"Bellatrix is here? Lucius too?"

"Yeah," Harry replied. "They wanted me to hand this over to them...but I don't understand why. What's this thing supposed to be, anyway? D'you know how to open it?"

"Put that away!" Snape cried, staggering away from Harry as though he'd been stung by it. "Put it away now, Potter!"

"Alright! Alright! Would you mind if I had my wand back?"

"So you can use it to jinx me again? I think not, Potter. Once I find my wand, I'm taking you back to the castle-you've wasted enough of my time as it is."

"That is, if you're taking me to Hogwarts and not somewhere else."

Snape sighed, looking unnerved. "Where else would I take you, Potter?"

"Why didn't you warn someone about Sirius? Why were you looking for me with the Death Eater?"

"I was under the impression that you knew just exactly what my 'job' was, Potter? If I am to keep up my appearance as the Dark Lord's spy, surely it makes sense that I am here with them? Rest assured, I have already alerted the Order and they will be here shortly...they may already have arrived for all I know."

"And Sirius? He's safe?"

"As he always is in the comfort of his mother's house."

Harry searched Snape's face for any hint of a lie though he did not find any. The man's face was imperturbable, there was no way to know what he was thinking-at least, not to Harry. Snape could be lying, even now, about everything. He could assure Harry that the Order were outside when that wasn't the truth at all. Perhaps the Death Eaters were all lined up at the exit, awaiting the moment to snatch him up. But they were after the prophecy, Harry thought. And Harry had shown Snape it. If the man was a Death Eater, surely he'd have snatched it away from Harry the moment he'd shown him it? Yet, the man had cowered away from it. He had Harry's wand too and could've easily Stunned him and carried him out the room if he really wanted to. Dumbledore trusted Snape, and Harry trusted Dumbledore. And he supposed that entailed trusting Snape too.

"I think we should head back," Harry said.

"I'm not going to get into another argument with you, Potter. We cannot go back there-you want to risk running into the Dementor again? Or perhaps the creature that devoured Rowle whole?"

"We've been walking for hours and we haven't found a way out! If we just get to the door...we could get it open!"

"The door Rowle and I came in through is protected by a two-way security spell, Potter. It is not as easy as opening the door and walking through."

"But-but you got through didn't you?"

"Because you must have unlocked it from the inside! That's how the spell works, Potter. Someone unlocks it from the inside but the person outside has to be the one to open it-no doubt a precaution against the things that are kept in here. Unless you know there is someone who will open the door for us, your idea is completely worthless."

"It's the best chance we've got, though."

Snape opened his mouth to argue when another howl ripped through the room. They turned at the same time, Snape holding Harry's wand upright where the sound had come from. A burst of light grew from the tip of the wand until it was big enough, and then it separated itself from the wand and began to bob away from them and into the gloom before them. They watched as the light crept further away from them, their ears picking up the sound of footsteps moving towards them. The light stopped just a short distance ahead and a minute later, a figure came into view.

Though it was dark, Snape's ball of light gave them enough illumination to make out the man's face. Harry came to the startling realization that he had seen the man before, though only in brief flashes. As he stared up at Snape, he saw he was transfixed on the figure as it edged closer to them. Snape looked as though he'd seen a ghost and for all Harry knew, he might as well have. Snape's grip on Harry's wand slackened slightly.

"Is that-?" Harry began but Snape shook him off.

"Impossible," Snape whispered, though it was more to himself than it was to Harry. "Gone. Dead."

Harry was inclined to agree. The man who was now edging closer towards them with a malicious smile on his face could not be real if only because he looked as though he hadn't aged a single day since Harry had seen him in the memory. There was no mistaking that it was him. The dark eyes, beak-like nose and stony-faced expression that was an uncanny resemblance to the man who was standing next to him now, mouth agape and a face full of horror. He hadn't made a mistake at all, Harry thought with a petrified look. 

"That's your dad."

Chapter Text

Harry stood there, dumbstruck.

”But that’s your dad,” Harry said weakly.

Snape turned to him with a look of ridicule, though Harry could make out the distinct expression of fear in those usual cold eyes.

”Don’t be absurd, Potter,” he spat. 

”But that’s him, isn’t it? I remember him-he was…he was shouting at your mum and stuff…”

Harry could feel his cheeks turning red as Snape continued to stare at him coldly. Harry kept his mouth closed, fearing he was bringing up things that should have remained in his thoughts alone. The last time he'd "accidentally" seen into his teacher's memories, he'd been subjected to getting all zeroes in his Potions homework. He had the distinct feeling that given they were no longer in school, he wasn't as protected now as he'd liked to be. If Snape decided to do anything at all during the time they were stuck in here, no one would ever know. And it was that thought alone that urged him to stop picking an argument with Snape. Yet, he found himself much too curious to be entirely logical at the moment.

"What would he be doing here?" he asked.

This time, Snape answered.

"Why don't you tell me, Potter, since you have a lot to say on the subject? Pray, tell, what would my Muggle father, who expired years ago, be doing at the Ministry for Magic at a time like this?"

So Snape's dad was a Muggle, then. That'd make him either a half-blood like Harry or a Muggleborn (if his mum was a Muggle too), neither of which really mattered at the present time. He shifted his gaze to Snape's father; the man had stopped walking towards them and had decided instead to stare at them creepily from the other side of the forest. It was creepy and oddly reminiscent of the way Snape usually carried himself in school. Always looming about in the darkness, watching and waiting to catch students without them suspecting. Looks like that beak of a nose isn't the only thing he got from his dad then, Harry thought with a small smirk.

"What else could it be?" he asked.

"That's for me to find out, Potter," Snape replied bitingly. "You, on the other hand, will be too far away to do so."

"I will?" asked Harry.

"Yes, Potter, you will. Continue with the plan and keep-"

"-moving, yeah, I know."

Snape gave a last nod, whipping Harry's wand into the air coolly.

"You're not going to kill him-er, or it, are you?"

He heard Snape exhale loudly as his teacher turned once more to face him, eyes glittering strangely. "I thought I asked you to get out of my face?"

"You didn't answer my question, sir."

They stared at each other.

"That thing could be dangerous so yes, Potter, I will probably have to kill it."

Harry stepped back. It wasn't even the fact that Snape had openly admitted to wanting to destroy his dad (or whatever that thing was) that had left him shaken, but rather the cool way he'd said it. It was as though he couldn't care less about what he was about to do. Sure, the thing that resembled his father could not actually be his father at all but he'd expected Snape to show at least a little emotion. Then again, this was Snape he was thinking about. He had been a Death Eater and that knowledge itself implied he'd have committed about a dozen other crimes much worse than this. And besides, Snape didn't look like the type to care for anyone, let alone his father.

Harry could not help but think about Snape's face when he'd first seen his father walking towards them, though. He had frozen, eyes wide as he stared in disbelief at the man he'd claimed to have been dead. Was he so nonchalant about this because he didn't care...or was it something more? Harry recalled the few times he'd broken into Snape's memories before and what he'd witnessed during them. In most of them, his father had been shouting at his mother or threatening Snape in some way. Could he truly despise his own father that the idea of killing him or something that looked like him did not bother him at all? Harry certainly loathed the Dursleys and even he would have hesitated if he'd seen them standing across from him now.

"What if it really is him? Your dad, I mean?"

Snape scoffed. "It's not. Go, Potter."

"What about my wand?" asked Harry.

"What about it?"

"I don't know about you but I'm definitely not going to walk into that forest without a wand when I know there's a Dementor about. I don't think punching a Dementor's going to stop it from sucking my soul out, is it?" Harry said rather sarcastically, much to Snape's own annoyance. "And I'm not too fond over the idea of you using my wand to take your dad out, either."

"It's not my father!" Snape hissed.

"So you say."

"What do you expect me to do here, Potter?"

Harry shrugged. "All I know is, that man hasn't done anything to attack either one of us yet. Why don't you hand me my wand so we can go look for yours and then we'll try to find a way out of here?"

"And leave that thing here, Potter? Are you daft? What if it follows us?"

"I'd rather a Muggle man followed me than a Dementor!"

Snape hesitated, eyes flickering between the figure of his father and Harry. Finally, he lowered Harry's wand.

"Fine," he said quietly.

"So I can have my wand back?"

"Like hell I am! You're not getting your wand back until we are out of here, Potter. Now, you're going to wait here while I take care of whatever this in," he said gruffly, gesturing towards his father in the distance.

"Wait here? Why can't we just go-?"

"Enough of this, Potter. I am your teacher and you will do as I say."

"Fine. Fix my glasses then," Harry spat, extending his broken glasses out to Snape. The dark-haired man looked down at it before tapping it once with Harry's wand, the cracked lens righting itself to its previous state once more.

"I suppose there are times when you can't simply tape it away," Snape said as his lips curled, his eyes trained on the bridge of the glasses where Harry had applied several rolls of tape to keep it together.

Harry opened his mouth to argue but was met instead with a light shove from Snape. Harry staggered, tripping over himself and landed to the snow-covered ground with a hard thump. As he looked up, Snape gave him a vindictive sneer before picking his pace towards his father's figure. Cursing him under his breath, Harry stood up to watch as Snape raised his wand in the air. A brilliant yellow light shot through the air but Snape's dad evaded it almost perfectly. Snape swore loudly, much to Harry's amusement, and flicked his wrist. Black cords shot out from the wand this time; Harry recognized it instantly. This was the same spell he'd used on Sirius and Lupin when he'd found them at the Shrieking Shack two years ago.

There was a grunt as the cords pierced right into Snape's father's chest. The man collapsed, landing on his knees as Snape stopped in his tracks. Harry squinted into the dark, trying to make out Snape and his father. In the distance, he could see Snape's father get to his feet. He stuck his hand out to grab the cords embedded in his chest and began to pull. Across from him, Snape let out a surprised shout. Before Harry even realized what was happening, Snape's father had pulled on the black cords that was still attached to Harry's wand so hard that Snape was dragged along with it. Halfway through, Harry saw Snape release his grip on Harry's wand and stumble into the darkened path. With a jolt, Harry saw Snape's father give out a horrible howling noise and began to charge towards Snape who was in the middle of righting himself.

"Look out!" Harry shouted in warning but it was no use with the wind drowning everything around them now.

He watched helplessly as Snape's father landed atop an unprepared Snape, the two men falling to the ground. Harry started, running towards them without knowing how he was supposed to help without a wand. He wasn't really big on fighting anyone, and he wasn't sure he could with his previous track record of consistently being beaten down by Dudley and his friends. They were the brawlers. Harry, on the other hand, was only ever useful when he had a wand in his hand. Still, he supposed he could improve the situation somewhat. Even from where he was, he could see Snape was not exactly faring well.

His father had him pinned to the ground while he struggled weakly. He didn't look like he was a much impressive fighter either, Harry noted as he bridged the distance between him and the two men. As he got close enough, he realized that Snape's father was not as small as he'd thought him to be. Seeing him now, he could see that his build was much bigger than Snape. And he was heavier too, his arms were as large as Hagrid's as it come pummeling down to meet Snape's face. There was a sickening crunch as Snape's head hit the ground, blood smattering the white snow.

Harry let out a gasp, stepping back almost immediately. Spotting a large rock just a short distance away, he ducked behind it. He looked round the corner to see that Snape's father had grabbed Snape by his cloak, dragging him up just to release another violent punch against his chest this time. Snape let out a low groan and dropped his guard, the last of his energy faded out as his grip on his father's arm slackened. Harry's heart began to beat quickly as he thought about his options. There was no way he could get to his wand-wherever it was Snape had dropped it-which meant the only way to save Snape now was to confront his father or whatever that thing was.

He began to count, hoping once he'd got to ten he'd somehow have accumulated enough imaginary courage to fight Snape's attacker. He'd counted to five when he was stopped by another thought. Why was he, Harry, risking his life to save the life of a man who'd done nothing but torment him the whole time they'd known each other? There was definitely a chance that Snape's father would incapacitate him as he had Snape, and that gave way to a higher probability that they'd both die here tonight. If he hid, on the other hand, it gave him a higher chance of surviving the night. That thing was more than happy to tear into Snape, and it would be the distraction he needed to run past it and back to the door. There he could figure out a way to get the door open, couldn't he? It was a more positive alternative than having the life knocked out of him, and by Snape's father too of all people.

"Stop-" 

Harry peered around the rock once more to see that Snape's father was now choking Snape, his large beast-like hands wrapped around his teacher's neck so tightly that Snape was turning blue.

"Stop-father-"

"Can't run," Snape's father said with a hollow laugh. "Can't run anymore, now, can you, boy?"

Harry was brought back to his sense. This was the perfect time to run. Snape's father was occupied on Snape and if Harry shot past them, and wouldn't notice him. This is it, he thought to himself, all he had to do was run as fast as he could without looking back. He was aware that he was going to selfishly leave his teacher behind. If he made it out of here alive, there would be questions. He doubted anyone would have blamed him for running away instead of helping Snape, though. It was the logical thing to do, after all, was it not? And Snape wasn't exactly popular among the students, either. No one would miss him, Harry thought, which is why you should just get up and start running.

But another voice interceded his own just then. It didn't come from his head but rather somewhere deep within his conscience. It was a woman's voice. He had heard it plenty of times before, both in his dreams and his memories. The soft, beautiful voice that belonged to the woman he always longed to see whenever he was overcome with bouts of loneliness and fear. The one voice he wanted to hear above anyone else's in the whole world. His mother's voice. He heard it all the time but she'd never said anything important then, and she certainly said nothing important now. In fact, he only ever heard her say the same thing every time. His name.

Harry.

Plenty of people had called him by his name before but hearing it in his mother's voice was different. It was soft and careful and so full of love. Hearing it now in his head, in this very moment, after it had been full of such dark unrelenting thoughts was a relief he welcomed more than anything else. It was as though hearing her call his name had given him some clarity at last and without a second though, he was running towards Snape and his father. He let out a warrior-like cry and latched himself around Snape's father, bringing him down sideways.

He let out a cry in horror as Snape's father dissolved into the snow. Opposite him, he heard Snape splutter and choke for air. Before Harry could so much as sit up, he felt something claw-like grab at him, dragging him through the snow and tossing him towards the ground with such speed that he was sure he'd broken almost every bone in his body when he hit the floor. He scrambled to his feet just as a dark, cloudy form emerged before him. The Dementor had returned, he thought in panic, feeling around for his wand that wasn't there. Wandless and defenseless, he stood there with nothing but his two fists. He wondered if this was how his father had felt as he stood against Voldemort moments before he died. Was this how Harry would die too? But the thought that he would die having attempted to save someone else just like his father gave him some comfort at least.

The Dementor glided towards him and a moment later, Harry keeled over. He could see images that he'd never even seen before. Aunt Petunia was in the kitchen, hands over her mouth as she sobbed quietly over a letter laid out across the table. James' head was buried in his mother's shoulder, shaking lightly as Lily patted him and he-Harry-was playfully swatting his father on the back. James and Lily were shouting about him having left the house again with Sirius while Harry cried out for their attention. And then he saw the vision of his mother screaming once more, begging Voldemort to show her son mercy. Harry felt as though he was drained of all life, his hands reaching out blindly towards the image of his mother in his memory. She was lying there, cold and very much dead, and all he wanted to do was lie down there next to her. He was going to see her soon, he thought as he closed his eyes.

"Relashio!"

Harry felt as though he was falling as his mother's lifeless form vanished from view. He could feel air enter his lungs, felt the blood pounding in his ears. He rolled to his side and lifted his head to see the Dementor hadn't disappeared completely yet. It was whizzing about strangely. Across from him, Snape had gotten to his knees, panting as he held Harry's wand at the Dementor. It locked eyes with him, and as it moved towards him, began to transform into weird shapes and forms. It began to solidify into recognizable people this time. It first turned into Snape, and then to Snape's father before shifting into James. It then glitched into Dumbledore, and then back to Snape's father and lastly it changed into Harry's mother. Lily looked pale, her eyes milky white as she howled at Snape. Snape fell on his back against the snow, wand still in hand.

"No," Snape croaked.

Harry blinked. He realized what it was now and thought how stupid he'd been this whole time to not have noticed sooner. That hadn't been a Dementor or Snape's father, for that matter. They had been manifestations of fear, or rather, what Snape and Harry seemed to fear.

"Boggart," Harry rasped as he watched his mother slash at Snape. "It's a Boggart!"

Snape gasped as the Lily-Boggart swiped her claw-like fingers at him again.

"What are you doing?" Harry cried. "Hit it! Hit it-it's a Boggart!"

Snape's head snapped towards Harry and he appeared to finally come to his senses. He pointed Harry's wand between the Boggart's roving eyes.

"Riddikulus!"

Harry watched as the Boggart went into a frenzy. It began to change forms and for a moment, he thought he'd seen it turn into that lion-like creature that had attacked the Death Eater earlier.

"Again," Harry yelled. "Hit it again!"

Snape did as Harry said. The second hit of the spell was far more effective, and as they watched, the Boggart began to shriek as it began to expand in size. It grew bigger and bigger until it had reached its limit and finally exploded into small bits and pieces, dissolving into the cold winter air. Harry slumped back, feeling the cold bite into his skin as he took a breath of relief. It was over. The Boggart was gone. He was alive. He was safe. Somewhere close by, he heard Snape groan softly.

"Boggart," Harry said in shallow breaths. "It was a Boggart."

When Snape didn't respond, Harry sat up worriedly. He saw the black-clad figure lying across from him, but there was no sign of life about him. Exhausted but determined, Harry half-crawled to where his Professor lay. His face was covered in blood during the struggle with his Boggart-father from earlier. His hooked nose looked less like a hook and more like a squashed bit of tomato now, to Harry's slight amusement. His clothes had been scratched and torn off, much like Harry's own had. Harry looked down at Snape's arm where the sleeve had been ripped away, revealing a large part of the Dark Mark that had been burned onto his skin. His eyes glanced over to Snape who was still and silent, and he tried to do his best to lift Snape's arm so he could check for a pulse.

"Potter," Snape said suddenly as Harry jumped away.

"Er, yeah?"

"Are you quite finished ogling at me?"

Harry scoffed. "I wasn't ogling! I just wanted to make sure you were still alive."

"I am, unfortunately."

He made a movement to help Snape but the man hissed. Harry drew away quickly.

"What do you think you're doing?" snapped Snape.

"Helping," Harry said with a hint of annoyance in his voice.

"Did I ask you to, Potter?"

"Fine," said Harry. "Do it yourself, then."

"I'm not leaving here, Potter, if that wasn't clear to you."

"What?"

"You're to keep with the plan, Potter. You will keep moving forward until you find an exit. Once you're outside, you're to alert the Order members that I am here-and tell them to send assistance."

Harry looked at the man questioningly, wondering if his brain had been damaged severely from the Boggart attack.

"You want me to just leave you out here?" he asked blankly.

"No, Potter, I'm asking you to get someone to come and help me."

"But I can do that! We can-"

"Why can't you just do as you're told, Potter?"

Snape closed his eyes momentarily and afraid that he would die if he let him, Harry prodded him awake. Snape winced, hand coming over his face to feel his broken nose.

"You're being stupid," Harry said. Snape glowered at him murderously but Harry was much too used to it by now.

"What did you say to me?"

"You heard me. I'm not going to leave you out here while I go find help-what if there's another Boggart out there?"

"Then I will deal with it, Potter."

"Yeah, because you did a great job the last time. Look, I don't know if you noticed, but that Boggart wasn't like the usual kind-they don't normally attack people like that, do they?"

"I admit...I have yet to have read about Boggarts that practice such...violence..."

"That's what I'm saying," said Harry imploringly.

Snape shook his head.

"Just...go, Potter. Take your wand if you want, it's what you've been after, isn't it? Take it and go. The Order members must have scared away the Death Eaters by now-and you have the stolen prophecy-"

"-it's not stolen, it had my name-"

"-so there isn't much to worry about for now. So will you just-"

"No. No, I told you...I'm not leaving here without you."

"Why?" Snape asked, taking Harry by surprise.

"Why what?"

"Why do you want me to go with you, Potter?"

Harry didn't have an answer for him.

"You could have made a run for it. Why did you come back for me?"

What was he supposed to tell Snape? That he'd heard his mother's voice and that had convinced him to turn back around? It was an asinine response, even for him and he'd been copped a lunatic by almost everyone he knew.

"Did you-" Snape said softly. "Did you think it would make you look good?"

Harry's mouth fell open. "What?"

"Harry Potter rescues Hogwarts Professor from the Ministry of Magic-thought it'd make you look good, did you? Always determined to be a hero-"

"I don't care about any of that stuff!" Harry spat.

"Then why?" Snape demanded, his voice going lower and lower as he spoke.

There were a few things he wanted to say, a lot of which would land him in a lot of trouble once they'd returned to the castle-that was, if they ever did. In the end, Harry decided the only response worth telling Snape was the truth, though he didn't think that would help matters at all.

"My mother," he blurted.

"I beg your pardon?" Snape asked.

"I know it sounds...well, mad, but...it's the truth. I was going to run and leave you behind but, er-I sort of heard my mother..." Harry stopped talking as he watched Snape's face soften momentarily. Harry felt his cheeks turn red. It was awful that he was opening himself up and being vulnerable like this, but to do it in front of Snape for all people was the absolute worst thing he'd ever done. For all he knew, Snape would use this information against him someday. And knowing Snape, he definitely would.

"You saw your mother's ghost?" Snape asked, bewildered.

"No-no, it was just-I just heard her voice. It's weird, I know, but I don't know...I suppose hearing it just changed my mind."

He didn't want to say anymore. He felt his moments with his mother were utterly personal to him and explaining them to someone like Snape was pointless. He'd have better luck making a garden rat understand the power of his mother's love than Snape. Snape didn't respond for a while, either. It seemed he was taking his time to process what Harry had just told him.

"Fine," he said. "Do as you wish, Potter. There's no point in arguing with a stubborn-headed fool, is there?"

Harry grinned. Snape rolled his eyes, wincing as he did. He didn't fight back though when Harry helped him into a sitting position. Harry noticed the small pool of blood Snape left behind and turned to face the man awkwardly.

"Er..."

"What?"

"You feeling alright? It's just...a lot of blood..."

"I'm fine," Snape said strongly despite wobbling lightly. Harry knew that he was in no way fine but his ego was keeping him from admitting it to him.

"Right. You don't look like it to me."

Snape only now seemed to realize the state he was in. He examined himself, flinching as his fingers traced around the wounds on his face, arms and chest.

"I suppose it won't hurt to do a healing spell or two...go on, Potter," Snape said with a scowl, handing Harry his wand.

"You want me to do it?" Harry quizzed.

"I can't very well fix my own face now can I? What's the matter-don't tell me you don't know how, Potter?"

"Of course I do! I just...I forgot, that's all-"

"It's a wonder you've survived against the Dark Lord for so long. Just point it here and move in a circular motion-repeat after me now, Potter. Episkey," Snape said.

Harry nodded, following Snape's directions. He swallowed nervously as he repeated the spell, watching as a glowing light bubbled at the tip of his wand. Snape closed his eyes as the magic touched parts of his face and it was soon enveloped in the glowing white light. As it faded away, Harry noted that there hadn't been much improvement on Snape at all. The other man seemed to realize it as well.

"How's my face look, Potter?" he asked.

Harry frowned. "Er, you look loads better, I think," he lied.

Snape didn't buy into his lie from the foul expression he carried now. "Give me your wand, Potter. I'll do it myself."

He felt Snape snatch his wand from him roughly. Snape aimed Harry's wand at his arm, which Harry noticed was hanging by his side at an awkward angle.

"Ferula," Snape muttered. Harry's wand lit up as bandages popped up from the end of it, coming to wrap around Snape's arm. A moment later, the bandages fell off and vanished as though they hadn't been there at all.

Snape made a disgruntled noise under his breath.

"What is it?" Harry asked.

"It's not working," Snape replied.

"Is it my wand, then? Is it broken?"

Snape shook his head lightly. "No...no, it must be the Boggart. Like I said, it isn't like any ordinary Boggart I've seen. It must have some curse on it that allows it to attack others and prevent them from healing...it probably left behind traces of it on me, too."

"So..." Harry said, "so what's that mean? Are you going to die or something?"

"As much as it would pain you to hear it, Potter, no I am not dying. I expect Poppy will find a way around it...but until we get to the castle, I'm afraid I'll be incapacitated."

Snape grimaced, pulling a face.

"It's fine, I've half-carried my cousin Dudley before and he's twice the size of you. We'll manage," Harry said casually as Snape shot him a dirty look.

"If you speak a word of this to anyone, Potter..."

"I won't. And there's one more thing, Professor," Harry added.

Snape gave a light groan. "What else is there, Potter?"

"You have to promise not to argue."

"Potter-"

"-if we're going to get out of here, we have to head back where we came from. It's the only way out and you know it too. We can't risk going the other way-"

"Potter?"

"Yeah?"

"I'm too exhausted to argue with you."

"Is that a yes to my plan?"

Harry took Snape's silence to mean that it was.

Severus couldn't believe how the evening had turned out.

He had expected to have found Potter at the Ministry, retrieve him and bring him back to Hogwarts where the boy would have been forced into detentions for the rest of the school year. That had been his plan, anyway. Instead, he'd been forced into the room after Rowle had convinced him he'd seen Potter go through there-where they'd faced an attack from a wild Boggart that had left him severely injured. He thought he'd be the hero and yet, Potter had proven him wrong. Part of him felt guilty for letting his own ego get the better of him. Potter had been screaming at him the entire time that the way out was through the door they'd come in from but Severus had fought against it. He had wanted to be right so bad that he'd let his hatred take control of his emotions. If he hadn't listened to the boy, they'd have been stuck down there without anyone knowing what had happened to them.

Somewhere around him, he heard Lovegood's voice chanting some strange spell. She was convinced that the thing they'd encountered in the room was not a Boggart but rather a vampire bat of some kind that could turn one into a human-vampire hybrid, and was now performing something she'd read about in one of her ridiculous magazines to reverse it. Still, he was grateful for her. She had been there on the other side of the door when Potter had knocked against it and had let them through. Severus had been overjoyed to see her only to find out that leaving that room was only the beginning of their terrible luck. Severus had assumed that by the time they'd found a way out, they'd have been rescued by the Order members that he'd alerted hours ago. Things, however, had turned out to be much worse.

When Potter asked Lovegood where the Order members were, she claimed that they had yet to arrive at the Ministry. She later revealed that the only reason she'd been outside the door was because she'd seen Harry go in there and later Severus himself. When she tried to get in, she found she was unable to and so waited there for several minutes-until Potter and Severus emerged once more. Potter had protested, arguing that they'd both been trapped in the room for several hours at least but Lovegood maintained her position on the matter. She believed that she hadn't waited by the door for longer than fifteen minutes when she'd heard Potter bang the door from the other side.

Severus had realized, to his disappointment and horror, that the room the Boggart had been held in had probably been enchanted to be stuck in a time loop as well. Boggarts normally had a short life-span, most expired within several months if they are unable to feed and whoever had designed the room had most likely wanted to prolong it's life for some reason. That would explain why Severus and Potter had felt they were in there for much longer than they actually had. And this brought him back to the present problem. The Order of the Phoenix were still not here, and Potter had the prophecy with him. Not to mention Severus was too weak to put up a fight, let alone defend Potter and his friends.

He'd told Potter to stay put but the stupid boy hadn't listened. Upon knowing his friends were still somewhere in the Department of Mysteries with Death Eaters on the hunt for them, he had taken his wand from Severus and run off. Severus had tried to follow but had collapsed halfway through. All he could do was lay there and listen to Lovegood's strange chants. Whatever curse the Boggart had left behind in him was starting to spread, he thought in dismay. His face was blotched and aching, and his entire body felt as though it was on fire. He was going to die here, he realized. And so would Potter and his friends. The only consolation he had was that he'd be much too dead in a couple of hours or minutes to worry about any of this. He only hoped he'd depart the world before Dumbledore could get his hands on him. Now that was a conversation he was not willing to face, even at the expense of his own life.

There was a long whistle and a scurrying of feet. As Severus's eyes fluttered open, he stared up at a few faces that were staring down at him.

"Wotcher, Professor."

Severus closed his eyes again with a groan. His vision was too blurred to recognize anyone but the faint purple hair and cheery voice told Severus all he had to know. He let out a small breath.

"Is he dead?" Black asked from above him.

"Dunno...seems like it. Oi, you-want to tell us what's going on?" Nymphadora asked to who Severus presumed was Lovegood.

"Don't bother," Severus replied. "Where's Dumbledore?"

"He's on his way. So's Remus and the others. Where's Harry?" Black asked.

"He left-"

"What?" Black exclaimed. "You let him go?!"

"It's not Professor Snape's fault," Lovegood chimed in. "He tried to stop Harry but he wanted to find Ron and Hermione and everyone else."

"Of course he did," Black replied rather proudly. "He's his father's son, isn't he?"

"He's got the prophecy, Black," Severus muttered. "He's going to play right into the Dark Lord's hands."

"Voldemort's here?" Black yelled.

"Oi!" shouted Nymphadora. "You wanna keep it down?"

"Come on, Tonks, I have to find Harry!"

"What about him? We can't just leave him here, can we?"

"We can't bring him with us-look at him! The git's going to slow us down!"

Severus opened his eyes to stare up at them. Black was looking down at him but not with the usual cruel expression he reserved from him.

"Tonks," Black said quietly. "You take him back to the Hospital Wing-and the girl too."

"And miss the fight? I've been looking forward to taking these Death Eater bastards out for ages, Sirius!"

"Just double back when you're done-we can't leave them here. Do as you're told, won't you?"

"I can't let you go in there on your own! How d'you expect to take down all those Death Eaters on you're own?"

Black laughed. "I can take them any day!"

"Sirius," Nymphadora said threateningly.

"No," Black yelled. "No, I'm not going to change my mind, Tonks! That's my godson in there- my best friend's son...it's all I have left of James-I'm not going to let anything happen to him."

"Black," Severus interrupted. "That's what they want...they'll be expecting you. Surely you realize that?"

"It's a risk I'll take. And besides, I'll only have to hold them back until Remus gets here with the others. Now go, Tonks!"

Nymphadora's silence meant she had no choice but to follow Black's orders. He saw Black turn away without another word. Severus quickly reached over to tug his the end of his robes and felt Black bend down to meet him.

"You're letting your arrogance get the better of you, Black."

"You know, I didn't think you could get any uglier," he interjected. "But you've proven me wrong, Snivellus."

Black smirked, hair falling over his face.

"You're a fool," Severus whispered and then added, "You won't let anything happen to him?"

Severus watched as the hatred in Black's eyes faltered for a moment.

"I'd die before I did."

"Good," Severus replied, eyes closing.

He felt as though a huge burden had been lifted off his shoulders. As much as he despised Black, he knew he'd do everything in his power to keep Lily's son safe and that was all that mattered at the moment. The Dark Lord wasn't here yet, and he wouldn't be-not until the Death Eaters had found Potter. All Black had to do was go in there, find Potter and his friends, and bring them back before the Death Eaters found him first. As long as his Dark Mark did not burn, Potter was safe. They were all safe.

"You know, Snape, maybe you aren't as much of a slimy git as you were back then," Black said as he got to his feet.

"Was that a compliment, Black?" he retorted.

"Ask me again after you've sobered up and Dumbledore thanks me for my bravery in front of everyone else."

And it was those words from Black that hung over the air as a sudden shot of pain spread through him, ending at the base of his left forearm. Pain was all he felt before he was submerged in total darkness.

Chapter Text

There weren't a lot of things that frightened Severus Snape, and the small list of things that did he tucked away into a deep corner of his mind. He willed himself to forget so he wouldn't be plagued by them. Of these fears, three in particular stood out from the rest. The first was a young boy with shoulder length hair and tear stains painted upon his pale face, hauntingly illuminated by wand-light in a darkened room. The second was of a girl with red hair. In his vision, she had lifeless green eyes that stared out through him, through everything else. And the third was the worst of them all: his father.

He hadn't always been afraid of his father, he learned early on from his mother that Tobias Snape was only a Muggle. And Muggles couldn't hurt anyone, especially not wizards or witches who were far more powerful than any other living creature in the world. Yet, his mother always sported bruises on her face and hurt in her chest. Still, he remembered what his mother had told him and kept it close to his heart until of course the fateful night he discovered that she had been so terribly wrong. He was fifteen at the time, and had just arrived home for the holidays. His father had announced  Severus was to stop his education and that he was to come and work with him in the mines. 

Can't run, boy. Time to become a man, Tobias had said. As if he knew what that meant.

His mother had stood up for him and that had set things in motion. He couldn't remember a lot of that night-it had been a blur because everything had happened so quickly. His father had struck his poor mother and Severus had gone to her defense. The next thing he knew, he was being thrown across the floor. He had simply laid there, wandless and unprotected, as his Muggle father pounded into him mercilessly. He saw the way his father's eyes lit up when Severus' mother screamed at him, begging him to stop before he killed him. He had seen the murderous intent in the Muggle's stare, in the way he smiled as he placed two hands around his neck and squeezed. His father, the Muggle, wanted Severus dead-that was the last thought in his mind as he felt his body give in to the loss of oxygen.

When he came to, he was in his mother's arms as she cried and cried for hours in relief that he hadn't died. He had healed from it eventually, and his scars faded away but the psychological damage Tobias Snape had done to his son would stay on for the rest of his life. He had at some point in his life learned to lock away the memory of his father but the Boggart had dredged up what he'd been struggling to keep hidden away. Even now, he could feel it again-the weight of his father's hands on his neck as he squeezed the last bit of breath left in him. He felt constricted, felt as if it was happening all over again. His legs kicked and kicked though it only made it worse. He heard a cold, hollow laugh and felt everything go dark as his arm felt like it was on fire-

Severus jolted awake, eyes adjusting to the vivid colours around him. A bead of sweat trickled down his forehead as he was caught between shallow breaths. His hand trembled as it came to wipe away at his face, a stinging sensation still felt around his left forearm. A moment later, his memories returned to him. Umbridge in the Forbidden Forest. The Department of Mysteries. Potter. The Boggart. His father. Black. Potter. Potter.

He sat up much too quickly which resulted in everything around him turning topsy-turvy. He leaned back with a sigh before his eyes fluttered open again. He was in his own room in the dungeons-how'd he get back here?

"You're alright, Severus."

He whipped his head to the sound of the familiar voice, eager to look into the eyes of the man he had somehow come to miss these past weeks. Dumbledore was seated opposite his bed, dressed in his usual colourful, patterned robes.

"Headmaster," Severus said pleasantly. He wouldn't hide the elation in his voice, not now. If Dumbledore was back at the castle, that meant that everything was back the way it was. That meant that everything that had happened at the Ministry was over.

"Severus," Dumbledore said with a nod.

There was a comfortable silence as Severus took a deep breath and exhaled, leaning against his bed. It was over, he thought.

"How long have I been out?" he asked.

"Several hours now...I apologize for not having you treated at St. Mungo's like the rest," Dumbledore said as he motioned towards Severus in his bed. "The Daily Prophet has been using the attack on Minerva to show the school is slowly failing the wizarding world, and I feared having another Hogwarts professor admitted there so soon would only add to the controversy."

But Severus was no longer listening. He could care less about where he had been tended to, it didn't matter-not when he knew that the headmaster was back where he belonged. As irritating as he could be, Severus had missed his presence in the school. Back then it had been because Dumbledore had been the only man to offer Severus protection, and he'd developed a need to have the man around him at all times. Now, it was different. He missed Dumbledore simply because he was somewhat of a dear friend to him, and whose presence had offered Severus consolation that he wasn't completely alone.

As his eyes raked over the older man's form, he realized there was something off about him. There were no longer any twinkle in Dumbledore's eyes, and there were hard creases formed around them, making him look as old as many people made him out to be. There was a strange aura over the man, it was as if he was being made to bear a terrible secret in his chest.

"What is it?" Severus asked worriedly. "What happened at the Ministry?"

"Many things, most of which are too horrifying to recount in words. The Order of the Phoenix has suffered tremendous losses, as did Lord Voldemort and his men..."

"But-but Potter? Is he-?"

"Harry is alive," replied Dumbledore. "But last night's incident was a harrowing experience for him so I could not say that he is entirely too well. The boy was forced, yet again, to meet wands with his destroyer."

"I thought I'd felt my Dark Mar burn-so he was there? The Dark Lord was at the Ministry?"

"Yes," said Dumbledore darkly. "Yes, he was there."

Severus fidgeted quietly as he processed what this meant. "They duelled?"

"It was a duel of sorts. As we expected, he attempted to use Harry's mind against him. His plan was to hold the boy captive, to bury him in horrifying memories he should never have had to endure in the first place."

Severus fell silent.

"It would have been extremely helpful for him if he had, as we intended, learned Occlumency-"

"What's that supposed to mean? Are you blaming me for the boy's incompetence at-"

Dumbledore held a hand up to stop Severus.

"Please," he said, "I am far too old to participate in this reckless charade of blame-game you and Harry have got going thus far. I refuse to allow reasons and excuses to lead our mistakes and failures. The truth remains clear, and that is that we have failed the boy, Severus. But that fault only lies partially to you and him and greatly to me. I was foolish, I admit, I had thought that allowing Harry to spend more time with you would allow you both to see what I have seen in the two of you."

"Which is what?" Severus asked with raised eyebrows. He was on the verge of disagreement but only held his tongue out of respect for the headmaster.

"You and Harry are more alike than you know."

Severus scoffed.

"You will deny it but it is true. I have seen in you the same reckless courage and undying loyalty as I see in him."

"Reckless? You will call me a reckless man? If that is the kind of man you think me to be, then I have failed you as a spy."

"Do not mistaken a reckless man to that of a reckless heart, Severus, for they are two different things."

Severus listened but he could not understand what the man was trying to say.

"What do you mean?" he asked.

"A man who is cautious seeks to protect only what he knows he is capable of protecting. But a man who fights to save what he knows he might lose and does so anyway, that takes a greater deal of strength and recklessness of the heart but is what makes him greater of the two men. You have lied and spied and put your own life at peril to keep the boy safe, even though you know Voldemort will not stop hunting him down until he is dead...just as Harry risks his life to protect his loved ones from dangers he does not know. The two of you are only mortal men, and yet...the ferociousness of which you seek to protect others birth a sort of bravery that is messy and unknowing and in its very nature, reckless. It is borne from instinct deep inside you...you may rely on your intelligence and discipline and he may act on spontaneity-that is true, but when the moment presents itself, you will see that the rash boldness will outweigh anything and everything else."

These were a lot of words to digest and Severus didn't have the patience to learn wisdom at the moment, not when he had questions left unanswered.

"So what happened? If the boy did not use Occlumency to block him out, how did he manage to outwit the Dark Lord once more?"

Dumbledore smiled.

"Love, of course."

"Love? Love drove the Dark Lord away from Potter? You can't be serious, Dumbledore!"

"Do not underestimate the power of love, Severus. The force of love can sway even the coldest of hearts, as I am sure you will agree. Yes, it was love yet again that conquered evil. He had gone too far, he pushed the boy into a corner, tormented him with images of grief until he would surrender. But Harry fought back. He had had his heart broken over and over again and yet he had fought back with an unending love. It was so powerful that Voldemort could not bear to be in his head. Harry had driven him away-even the lightest bit of love threatened to destroy everything Voldemort had built and so he had retreated."

Severus fell silent as Dumbledore's words echoed in his mind. Love had saved the day again, as Dumbledore had branded aptly. Love. Was it that powerful? Powerful enough that it had immobilized the Dark Lord's power over the boy? He thought about the red-haired girl he had met as a child. He had been full of dark thoughts, even as a boy, and yet they never intruded whenever he was close to her. Was that love? Had Potter inherited his mother's ability to love? Wasn't it her love that had thwarted the Dark Lord the first time round? His whole life he had grown up knowing that only power mattered, that it was power that would bring him up in the world. That it was power that would leave his name etched upon the minds of many. No one had ever said anything about love, had never told him that its strength could overpower even Dark Magic itself.

"Love," Severus whispered quietly.

"Love," repeated Dumbledore with assurance.

"Did he manage to retrieve the prophecy? They wouldn't have summoned him if they hadn't secured it first."

At this, Dumbledore looked up to stare at Severus. "Ah, about that...Harry has just informed me that he had lost the prophecy back in the room with the Boggart. I have of course requested for Order members to be allowed into the room to do a thorough sweep of the area but we are still awaiting the Minister's approval."

"I lost my wand in there, too," Severus added rather bitterly. "All because Potter couldn't learn to do as he is told."

"There is also, of course, the matter of Lucius Malfoy and his failure to retrieve the prophecy."

"The Dark Lord hasn't been happy with him-hasn't been happy with anyone lately. He will punish him," Severus said, lowering his head. He thought of Narcissa then, the woman who had begged him to make sure no harm would befall her son or husband. Lucius was an important man though, and he didn't think the Dark Lord would kill him. That was something, at least.

"Lucius Malfoy is currently in detainment at the Auror's Post."

The news took him by surprise but he did his best to maintain his expression. He hadn't expected Lucius of all people to have been captured. Part of him had hoped it'd have been Bellatrix but he supposed she was far cleverer than old Lucius.

"What will become of him?" Severus asked with a collected composure. He was undoubtedly Dumbledore's man and by the extension, served directly for the Order of the Phoenix but it was difficult to remain impartial when it came to Lucius Malfoy himself. 

"Still in discussion but I suspect it's Azkaban for him," Dumbledore said disparagingly. Severus looked up at him.

"It won't be for too long."

"You think so?"

The air was stifling yet Dumbledore looked not a least bit uncomfortable as Severus was.

"I just meant...Death Eaters have broken out before...it's not impossible."

Dumbledore shook his head, leaning back in a relaxed manner. "I never said it was. And I am sure Mister Malfoy will happily rejoin Voldemort's side eventually, though I hope the time he serves in Azkaban will be a sound reminder of the price he has to pay should his Master fail to win this war."

"Draco will be severely disappointed," Severus said pointedly.

"I expect so. Let us hope he does not follow in his father's footsteps, then."

When Severus made a small noise in the back of his throat, Dumbledore cocked his head and stared at him with new interest. 

"You think he will?" Dumbledore asked.

"It will not matter," said Severus grimly. "His mother already suspects that he will be initiated into the Death Eaters' circle sometime this year or the next...with his father gone, the Dark Lord might push for it earlier. I fear he may exact vengeance of his father's failure on his son."

"And what of you, Severus?"

"What of me, Dumbledore?"

"What will Voldemort expect from you now that his right-hand man is to be sentenced to Azkaban? Where will you fit in into this whole affair?"

He shook his head weakly. "I expect he shall wish for me to remain here. You disagree?"

He watched as Dumbledore moved closer, one hand on the other as he regarded Severus with a serious face.

"Oh, I agree. But I think with Lucius Malfoy gone, he will look towards you to stand in his place."

"Me? With everything that's happened...no, the Dark Lord still distrusts me. He will elect others-"

"Who else is there? Are you telling me he will place his faith in Mulciber? Or Goyle, perhaps? I hear Pettigrew has been of great assistance lately...maybe Voldemort will ask him to lead the war?" Dumbledore asked sarcastically.

Severus' lips twitched.

"Bellatrix might be a worthy consideration," he said thoughtfully.

"That would have been my guess but she was also involved in tonight's disastrous attempt to secure the prophecy, was she not? You were the only one who wasn't apart of the raid at the Ministry, that they know of anyway, which is precisely what makes you the perfect candidate to replace Malfoy."

"Maybe you are right but until I prove to him that I am faithful...."

"Then that is what we shall do. With everything that has happened this past year, I feel we have failed to secure your position enough as a trustworthy spy to Voldemort. You have supplied him with information but it has been done too poorly...if you are to truly gain his trust, then we must arrange for a more ostentatious performance."

"What would you suggest?" Severus asked with a snort.

"For that, I will need time. Time and patience from you, Severus. Until then, I trust you will do in all your power to play a convincing role? He will not be pleased with the losses from tonight and he will want to know where you were-you have your excuses prepared?"

Severus gave him a nod.

"Good man," the headmaster said, standing to his feet. "I'll be on my way then...I've requested an urgent meeting with the Minister for the clearing of Sirius' name and he's finally agreed to listen. Oh, and do drop in to see Poppy, won't you? She said something about having your wounds looked at."

"You're clearing Black's name? You have evidence to support it?" Severus asked.

"I daresay Fudge has seen enough to take my word for what it's worth. He's already agreed, and I expect the Daily Prophet will publish it by noon tomorrow...this is just a formality."

"I expect Black will be pleased, won't he, that he'll no longer be confined to his mother's house," Severus spat. "I hope you don't get any ideas of hiring that man to work here in the castle like you did with Lupin, Dumbledore. If he's in, then I'm out."

Dumbledore paused on the way out, another peculiar expression on his face.

"That won't be necessary, Severus."

There was something haunting in Dumbledore's words that urged Severus to speak once more.

"Why?" he asked in a breathy voice.

"He was trapped in-between a duel with Bellatrix Lestrange. Sirius is dead."

Chapter Text

The beginnings of a warm summer hinted through the steady flow of sunlight pouring through the windows from outside. Two figures stood by the steps of the entrance of the castle, illuminated by the block of light that made it impossible to even see their faces. But these figures were so well known, especially throughout the school, that no student failed to greet them as they passed them by. As the last bit of Draco Malfoy disappeared from their views, Minerva McGonagall turned to the hook-nosed man next to her.

"Looking a bit ill, isn't he?" she murmured. 

Severus stared ahead, eyes fixed to where he had seen Draco last. He gave a snort at her comment but upon seeing her perplexed reaction, he arched an eyebrow.

"You don't know?" he asked.

"Don't know what?"

"The boy's father has just been arrested. Caught him on the wrong end during the raid at the Ministry."

"Oh," said Minerva simply. "I expect Arthur Weasley will be pleased...his entire career took a downfall because of men like Lucius Malfoy."

For a brief moment, he wanted to argue against her disparaging tone. He wanted to tell her that her harsh tone of judgement against Lucius was unwarranted, that she didn't understand why he didn't deserve it. That he had done it to protect his family, just as Minerva would have hers. But after a silent battle with himself, he decided to let it go. She wouldn't understand, even if he explained it to her. How could she possibly? She was one of the good ones. She'd never know what it'd feel like to stand in front of the Dark Lord, to have him give you his command and carry it out without reluctance. She'd never understand how once you were in with the bad crowd, you couldn't ever get out. That the only way out was either through capture or death.

"Surely you don't think the boy deserves to have his father sent to prison?"

"Does the boy deserve-of course not," Minerva replied scathingly. "But I do think that every man has to be punished for his crimes and Lucius Malfoy definitely played a part in the death of Sirius Black. And I quite sincerely believe he deserves to rot in Azkaban for it. Do you disagree?"

Severus looked away, leaving the question very much answered despite his reticence.

They stood there for some more time, leaving a small gap so a dozen students coming back from the lake could squeeze through past them. Severus caught sight of Longbottom, whom upon spotting him and Minerva by the steps from afar, did a double take and turned back where he'd come from. Severus scoffed loudly, nodding as the other students greeted them lazily.

"Hard to believe he went up against so many Death Eaters and survived," he said, watching as Longbottom began to circle round like he was just waiting for his two teachers to disperse.

Minerva had spotted the boy at about just the same time, though she wore a look of admiration as she stared at him.

"He's a tough lad-I know he might not look it and at times, certainly not act it (Severus sniggered), but he is. I don't know if anyone's ever told him this but there are times when the boy reminds me so much of his father. Poor Frank was as much as an incautious fool as Neville is, but he had a great courage to stand up against what he knew was wrong, even if it meant going behind his own friends’ backs. It was commendable, certainly-did you know he was the one who always tipped me off about Potter and Black's pranks. They all thought that I had the ability to mind read, goodness me, when it was Frank Longbottom who'd have come and seen me in my office because he wouldn't stand for it!" Minerva said, her hand coming to perch on her chest. "They'd be proud if they could see how their son turned out, Alice and Frank...I know I certainly am."

Puzzled by something else he'd kept from asking Dumbledore (only because he knew the old man would feed him answers of sentimentality rather than facts), he turned once more to face her.

"Why do you suppose he-why, any of them, for that matter-went with Potter in the first place? Surely one of them would have guessed the dangers that'd await them at the Ministry?" he asked.

Minerva chuckled. "They're little fools, that's why! But...then again, I suppose it's because it's him, isn't it? Potter's a very strange boy, he is. Grew up with the two most awful Muggles I've known and yet, he has in him such an endless capacity of love and kindness...he's just the most wonderful boy, really. After everything that's happened to him, I'd have expected him to rebel and revolt against the world and yet...he treats people as nicely as they ought to have done him. You know, many people think that it comes from his parents. They think all the boy is is a piece of James and Lily but I don’t think so. No, Potter's goodness is his own...and his friends have seen that. And if there's anyone to risk your life for, I'd suppose it'll be for him."

When he didn't say anything, she nudged him playfully. "What about you?"

"What about me?" he asked flatly.

"You risk your life everyday for the boy. Why do you do it?"

He paused. He didn't share the same opinion of the boy Minerva had but had to admit there were parts of it that was true. Potter could be hell-bent on breaking rules and was fairly arrogant when he wanted to be, but Severus also knew the boy had a deep sense of understanding and loyalty for others. He remembered, and quite bitterly so, that the night the Dark Lord had almost killed him that the boy had demanded for the headmaster to find him and bring him back. Remembered how Potter had come to him and apologized for the wrongdoings of his father. But most of all, he remembered how Potter had saved him from the Boggart-especially when he needn't had to.

"Because," he said and Minerva's ears perked up with interest, "it's my job."

Her face fell as she swatted at him. Two students passing by saw their antics and guffawed loudly before Severus took two points off their Houses. As they walked away, he thought he heard them swear at him.

"We're having a memorial at headquarters later," Minerva said without looking at him. "Molly asked me to ask you, thought it'd be nice to have you there..."

"I'm not the kind of person you'd want at a memorial-least of all Black's," he commented dryly. "And Molly's far too kind. Give her my best, won't you?"

"Do come, Severus," she said pleadingly. "You just have to keep your mouth closed the entire time, that's all. I'm sure the others would love to have you there too."

He snorted. "Right, I'm sure Mad-Eye is downright excited at seeing me show my face there after the fiasco at the Ministry."

"You need to be around people, Severus," Minerva argued, rolling her eyes at his comment. "Just think about it?"

He gave a nod. She waited until another group of students brushed past them before leaning in close to him to whisper.

"So, are you going to tell me why Dolores Umbridge is lying in the Hospital Wing looking very much like she's just recovered from an exorcism?"

"Oh," Severus said glumly. "Dumbledore's brought her back then, has he? I'd hoped he'd have forgotten with everything that's going on..."

Minerva grinned. "Go on, then. Tell me what fun you've been having without me."

"Well, " he said rather dramatically. "Our dear Headmistress took those little devils into the forest because she thought they'd be leading her to some secret weapon Dumbledore had in there."

"Oh? And what weapon would that be, exactly?"

Severus smiled. "A sixteen-feet-tall giant belonging to one gamekeeper of Hogwarts."

Upon hearing this, her mouth gaped open in surprise before turning into a wry smile.

"I expect she didn't like that very much."

"Not in the slightest," he replied very seriously. "He picked her up (he mimicked the action of picking up and then flicking away an imaginary fly) and threw her around."

Minerva was now cackling very loudly. "Is that why she's in that state-oh, poor thing!"

"Not at all," he said. "That'll be the centaurs’ work."

"The-the centaurs? Heavens, me-what did she do to them?"

"Exactly what you'd expect," he said darkly. "She insulted them, attacked them and probably tried to kill them-but, I only got there halfway so not everything might be in that order."

"How awful," Minerva said still grinning.

"You should've seen her," he said savagely. "They'd tied her up and everything-wouldn't let her back unless it was Dumbledore who came to get her. Serves her right for putting me on probation-as if I cared-ha!"

She laughed again, so hard this time that it teased a low chortle from Severus himself.

"Oh, don't be unkind," she said, though she didn't look too sorry about any of it. "I must pay her a visit, I heard she'd been boasting about having been the one to Stun me so well she'd had me sent straight to St. Mungo’s. Didn't want anyone knowing it'd been four against one now, did she?"

At this, Severus turned morose once more, face etched with his usual ill-tempered expression. "Speaking of which...you do realize that was a very (he was very careful to not say stupid) irresponsible thing you did running off at a bunch of people without even your wand out. What were you thinking?"

Minerva waved him off weakly. "It was Hagrid," she said.

"Still," he said coldly. "You're lucky it was a Stunning spell and not the Killing Curse."

"Severus Snape," she said, smiling into his sour face, "were you worried about me?"

"No," he replied a little too quickly. "Of course not. I just didn't want to have to boast the Quidditch Cup at your grave-it's hardly appropriate."

Minerva threw him a particularly agonizing glare. "That'd be of poor taste."

"Indeed."

Severus smiled, if for a moment. Everything was a mess, turned upside down and shaken about. This year had turned into a massive puzzle with all of its pieces being left out in random places so that nothing fit exactly as it should. That was the best way he could describe the year to be. A disorganized puzzle that couldn't be solved. People were dying, people that he knew too, and before the year was through he was sure that there would be more. The Dark Lord had been defeated for now but Severus was clever enough to know that this wouldn't be as bad a set-back as he wanted it to be. This had just been a minor part of the Dark Lord's plan and its failures wouldn't deter him from his end goal of taking over the wizarding world. People were still being actively recruited into his folds and every day Muggles and magical folks alike were being attacked. If there was ever a mark to the beginning of the second war, this was it. 

Before the year was through, Sirius Black's death would be forgotten among hundreds, if not of thousands more. With all this in his mind, he thought of the small comfort and happiness he felt in brief moments such as these. Where he could have hope that when everything was over, he'd have the chance to feel this sort of happiness once more. Where he could walk through the castle grounds for once without worrying or fearing that something horrible should happen. Where he would be irrevocably at peace. With all this in his mind, Severus smiled.

Chapter Text

By the time Severus made it up to the hospital wing, the golden glow of the afternoon sky paled in preparation for the evening twilight. He'd made a clean sweep of the lake and then inside the castle, making sure the students had all gone up to their respective dormitories. He'd been a student before and knew how irrepressible some of them could be to try and sneak out to the school grounds after dark especially since the holidays were coming up soon and they knew none of the teachers would bother setting them up with detention if they were caught. He'd allowed some of the older students to slip out before but only because he knew they wouldn't stray too far away from the school grounds. Since Diggory's death, however, he'd become more restrictive even towards the sixth and seventh years. There was no telling what dangers lay ahead and the students were still children, and children needed to be protected.

He enjoyed the quiet walk up to the hospital tower, it was very rare to find such a moment of peace and so he celebrated it with a soft hum of content. As he climbed the ascending steps towards the room, he panted slightly while rubbing against his aching chest. The Boggart had left him in a weakened state and whatever medicine Poppy had healed him with was wearing off, the bruises pushing against his quite frail ribs in a way that left him gasping for air after only several minutes of walking. It was a good thing Poppy had asked to see him, he thought as he drew closer. He made a mental note to ask her for any ointment of some sort to alleviate this pain he was feeling. With the term ending and with his right-hand man in prison, Severus knew it'd only be a matter of time before the Dark Lord selected Lucius' successor. And as Dumbledore had said, the only viable and reasonable candidate left for the job was Severus. But sustaining this sort of injury around the Dark Lord would only impede on his task as a useful servant to the Dark Lord. Before term ended, he had to make sure he was fully healed up and ready to serve his other master.

The door was already open and he took that to mean the matron was expecting his arrival. The first thing he noticed was the rows of unoccupied beds in the room. No doubt with classes and exams over, no students found it necessary to admit themselves to the hospital wing with fake injuries and made-up illnesses. He made for Poppy's office and just as he took a step towards it caught something from the corner of his eye. He turned his head and let out a breathless gasp, eyes steeling towards the last bed at the end of the room. His pupils widened in disbelief as the figure of Sirius Black sat up from the bed, wearing an agonizing smirk on his face. Severus felt himself turn pale.

"I thought I told you girls to clear out? There is nothing I can do about those spots on your faces-you'll just have to wait it out!"

Poppy's voice shattered his focus on Black and when he glanced back to the bed saw that it vacant once more. He strode towards it, so sure of what he'd seen just a moment before. He pulled on the bedsheets, examining them for any signs of disturbance. When he realized there was no sign anyone had been perched upon the sheets, he drew a short breath and bent down to look under the bed as if he was expecting Black to jump out at him from below. But there was no one under the bed, either, to his astonishment.

"How many times must I-oh, Severus, it's you-what are you doing down there?"

Severus straightened over, turning to address Poppy. "You asked to see me?"

"Yes, yes, in my office-come along now...we need to have a little chat. Is something the matter?"

His eyes were back on the empty bed and only snapped back to Poppy when she called his name again. He shook his head weakly and offered her a faint smile.

"After you," he said, beckoning her to move in the direction of her office. She led him into the cramped office where the cabinets containing students' medical records from the 80's took up majority of the space-so much so that she could only afford a singular wooden desk and a chair inside. There was also a small fireplace by the corner but had been enchanted to hold even more files he couldn't even begin to guess were. She made him to take her own seat by the desk despite his initial refusal and chose to lean against one of the cabinets facing him. He noticed shortly after that she looked rather erratic and agitated which was quite unlike her. She was also biting her lip nervously as if there was something she was holding back from him.

"Dumbledore said you wanted to talk?" he asked, trying his best to not let her nervousness affect him.

"It's not good news," she said as she clasped her hands together.

He snorted in response. "When is it ever?"

She sighed quietly as she stared at him. "It's in relation to the Boggart attack at the Ministry..."

Severus finally relaxed into her chair and crossed his arms. "I'm not dying, am I? Because that'll be twice I'm hearing of it in one year and I don't think it's possible to be dying twice."

Poppy's fingers were distracting him from her, the way they clawed at each other to keep in control.

"I'll just go out and say it, shall I?" she asked when a look of annoyance crossed his features.

"Please do," he replied.

"Well...when they brought you in the night of the attack, you were bleeding quite badly and your face was all scratched up-not that you'd remember...you were out of it-"

There were a flash of images on his mind as she spoke. "I remember," he said quietly.

"Dumbledore insisted that we keep this quiet, like we usually do (he nodded) but we ran into a complication."

He motioned for her to continue.

"I pinpointed the source of the injury but every potion and spell I used to wear it down seemed to be making it worse to the point that you went through a lot of blood. A lot of it," she said grimly.

Severus looked to her in confusion. "But..." he said with a frown, "but I'm fine now. I mean I've got a couple bruises but it's only been a day and I'm sure it'll heal up-"

"Yes, of course," she said. "What I'm trying to say is...when I couldn't get it to heal, I was forced to seek medical attention from external  sources."

"And by external you mean...?"

"St. Mungo's-not actually St. Mungo's...she's someone who works at St. Mungo's but really she's there as a member of the Ministry."

He blanched at the mention of the Ministry. "I thought I was treated here? In the castle?"

"You were, Dumbledore made sure of it-he called on someone he knew from the institution and the source sent someone who'd worked with something familiar like this before. Actually, she'd worked on this particular case before."

"She's faced one of these Ministry Boggarts before?" he asked curiously.

"No, what I mean is...she's dealt with the same Boggart that attacked you and Mr. Potter specifically. She was assigned to this project several years ago as part of the Ministry-St. Mungo's Collaboration Program where she'd conducted experiments on the Boggart. But, and this is according to her, something went awry with the project and after several deaths, the Ministry had decided to shut it down and had the Boggart locked away at the Department of Mysteries. The important bit from this is that she knew what exactly was wrong with you and how to undo it."

"What did she give me?" Severus asked with an intense gaze that forced Poppy to look away from him.

"An antidote of some kind-she'd been working on it for a while and had tested it on one other victim of the Boggart, you see. Said that Boggart was a rogue one and that it had developed the ability to harness poison in itself...she also said that if you didn't take the antidote, the poison it injected in you could prove fatal."

Severus did not speak for a while.

"Will you say something?" Poppy asked warily.

"What do you expect me to say, Poppy? You let a stranger put something in me without knowing what it was?"

"And what would you have expected me to do, Severus? You would rather I let you die?"

He was furious to the point that he couldn't speak. He knew Poppy had only the intention to save him but she didn't understand the way things worked as he did. This Healer, whoever she was, could easily have been one of the Dark Lord's minions sent to spy on him here in the castle. She could have mixed a tracking spell in with antidote that would allow his movements to be made seen by the Dark Lord at any time he wishes. Or, she would have noticed the injuries he'd sustained and connected it to the events at the Ministry-she need only speak of this to one wrong person and the years of spying he'd done would all have been for naught.

"And besides, you're still alive, aren't you? I made the right choice, didn't I?"

"Why did you tell me all this?"

"What do you mean, Severus?" she asked.

"You could've hid this from me. You knew I'd be upset if you told me so why tell me at all? I'd have been more at peace believing that it was you whom had saved me once more."

"Because," Poppy said, biting her lip again. "I never conceal anything from my patients. And also because the healer had to report this incident to the Ministry."

"What?" Severus roared, jumping to his feet. "Poppy, this could compromise my whole position-if any Death Eater gets access to these records and found out I was there that night-"

"Don't you think I know that?" cried Poppy as she attempted to settle him back down into the seat. "But I know this healer, Severus. She was a student here before you and I trust her completely!"

"That's beside the point! I was a student here too and look how I turned out!" he exclaimed loudly, his temper getting the better of him.

"You turned out fine," she said ferociously and for a brief moment, he felt slightly touched by her comment. "And you have nothing to worry about. Dumbledore made her sign an agreement whereby she promised not to reveal your identity nor where you were treated. The report she submitted is just out of formality and she assured me it would be buried amongst thousands of others."

"Dumbledore knows?" he asked. "He knows about all of this?"

Poppy nodded. "Yes, he knows. He allowed it, Severus, or else I never would have agreed to it."

Severus breathed a sigh of relief, falling back against the rickety chair. "Then it's fine then, isn't it?"

"Severus," Poppy murmured, coming round to perch by the desk. She looked down at him, her brows furrowed together. "That isn't the bad news I wanted to tell you."

He groaned, placing his hands into his face. "What else could there be?"

"This healer..." she started softly. "She asked me to serve you this."

She placed a folded scrap of parchment on the desk in front of him. He lowered his hands and unfolded the paper to read it.

Severus Snape is hereby  requested to attend and undergo, by the least seven and most twelve, private sessions with a certified professional as is required by all person(s) disturbed, harmed or inflicted by a rogue Boggart  in no less than twenty four days upon receiving this summons. If you are the person(s) as has been identified above, please provide your signature in the allocated in the space below. Alongside this document, please enclose a recent health examination report done with or at any legitimate institution for our further reference. 

And below, there was singular line drawn out where his signature would go. At the bottom of the parchment, there were two inscriptions stamped neatly across the page: St. Mungo's Hospital and The Ministry for Magic.

"I'm not going," he said gruffly.

"You're required to."

"Well, they can't force me to. I'm not going," he said again feeling unnerved. 

Poppy reached over to tug at his hand. "Severus, you must. It's part of the agreement between the healer and Dumbledore. If you do this, if you attend these sessions, then she will ensure your name will be kept out of the hospital medical records. If you don't, she'll have no choice but to report your non-compliance to the Ministry."

He scoffed. "What can the Ministry do?"

"Non-compliance," Poppy stated, "may result in the offenders serving time in Azkaban. And it will most certainly result in immediate expulsion from your teaching position. This is serious, Severus."

"I'll go to Dumbledore!" Severus yelled atop Poppy's voice. "He doesn't have the right to sign any waiver without me being present! I'll have him retract it and we'll put this absurdity behind us once and for all."

"You know this is for your own good, don't you? They just want to make sure you're alright, Severus."

"Poppy," he whispered frantically. "I can't."

"Why?" she asked. "Why won't you open yourself to get help, Severus?"

"I-I'm afraid," he rasped. "I'm afraid of what will happen if I do. What happens if they can't, Poppy? What happens if they find out what kind of man I really am? If anyone finds out...if he finds out that I've been lying all this time, he'll kill me, Poppy. He'll kill me for sure."

His voice had grown quiet, desperate even. Poppy was starting to tear up now as she clenched his hands in hers. He let her. For the first time, he allowed her to see how frightened he truly was. She was asking him for too much. Her and Dumbledore, both. The two men's agreement was that he'd defect to Dumbledore's side and provide him with enough weapons against the Dark Lord to destroy him and by doing so, avenge Lily Potter's death. This had been his only purpose in life, the only thing that had kept him alive for so long. And now, things were changing. They wanted to get him help. Wanted to make sure that he was safe, not just from physical danger but also from the torments of his own thoughts. It was as though Dumbledore and Poppy had glanced into his soul and seen the other side, and now they wanted to cure his tainted soul. They wanted him to become someone like them when he knew it was too impossible, too late. It was too much to ask of him.

"We won't let that happen, Severus," Poppy said with assurance. "I just don't want to see you like this anymore."

Severus stood abruptly, the chair crashing to the floor as he did so. Poppy jumped to her feet at his sudden movement.

"I have to go," he announced, staring past her.

"Where are you going? We haven't finished0"

He walked past, ignoring her completely. When he reached the door, he turned back to throw her a scathing look. "I don't think I'll be around for a few days. Tell Dumbledore not to bother looking for me."

"Severus," Poppy cried. "Severus, what about the letter? You know you need to send it in-"

He tuned out the sound of her voice, paying her no mind as he stalked out of the office and out in the open room. He glanced over to the empty beds, making sure one last time that Black wasn't sitting atop one of them as he had been earlier. As he swept out the hospital wing, his mind whirred from the different thoughts that came streaming in all at once. It made it difficult to focus and he knew he couldn't stay here. He had to leave the castle and go somewhere he wouldn't have time to think about anything. A distant image of a blonde-haired woman with tear-streaked face made an appearance but he shook it away, a rancid taste filling his mouth at the thought of her.

She's the enemy, he thought to himself, and don't you forget that. Nothing good would come from seeing her, especially not now when he wasn't all him. He couldn't allow himself to be vulnerable in front of her or else she'd use that weakness against him someday. 

He passed by the portraits and descended the staircase with his head pointed towards his shoes the entire time. He had made it past a particularly large portrait filled with various men and women seated at tables, drinking tea when a sudden realization came to him. He stopped so suddenly, hand clutching the stairway banister so hard that his knuckles turned white. His reaction caught the interest of one of the men in the painting who began to holler at him to get his attention.

"It was the elf," Severus blurted.

Another woman who looked quite cross that everyone in the painting were now solely focused on the man by the staircase rather than on her spoke next. "I beg your pardon, sir?"

His eyes bore into hers but he chose in that moment to save his revelation for people who would actually know what it meant. He threw her a side-glance before making for the direction of the school gates.

"It was the elf!"

Arthur Weasley stared at Severus, mouth agape like a stupid goldfish.

"Sorry?" he asked, stepping aside to allow Severus through the hallway of 12 Grimmauld Place. Severus squeezed through the narrow gap between the door and Arthur Weasley rather easily, eyes scanning the surrounding to make sure the elf was not around.

"Inside," he murmured towards the red-haired man who was still watching him blankly. "The kitchen, quickly."

Arthur waddled after Severus, both entering the kitchen at the same time Mad-Eye let out a disgustingly loud burp. There were several Order members seated as they usually were by the table in the kitchen. Severus's gaze stopped by Lupin at first who looked very much like a man who had escaped an asylum with barely his life. Next to him, Nymphadora had her head planted down against the table, one hand wrapped around Lupin's awkwardly. Minerva was by the sink with Molly, both chatting as they peeled away at a couple potatoes. On the end of the table sat Shacklebolt who reached over to fill Mad-Eye's empty glass. 

"I thought you wouldn't come," Minerva said from where she stood.

He didn't answer her right away. Instead, he closed the door behind him and gestured for everyone to huddle around him.

"What is it, Snape?" Mad-Eye growled.

"The house elf that's been around here-"

"-Kreacher-"

"Yes, that one-he's been leaking information on Black to the Dark Lord-"

At this, Mad-Eye made a noise that sounded an awful lot like a seasick donkey. Severus arched an eyebrow.

"What?" he asked.

"We know this already," Nymphadora said, finally raising her head to speak.

"Know what?"

"About the elf," Shacklebolt continued. "Dumbledore interrogated him hours before, by the way."

Severus stared round at them. "What else did you find out?"

"The elf apparently had been reporting about Harry and Sirius' relationship to you-know who. Even admitted to it, too. It was his information that led to you-know-who-sorry, Voldemort (Severus hissed) planning to trap Harry at the Department of Mysteries by using a false vision of Sirius," Nymphadora said, her usual lively voice now sounding strained and hampered. 

"Thought that he'd be rewarded for what he'd done," Shacklebolt said.

"He's lucky Dumbledore's protecting him. I was this close to wringing that elf's neck myself-it's no wonder Sirius hated him."

Severus felt his mouth go dry. Then his guess had been correct. And it appeared everyone else had known it before him. But, he thought, there was one other thing they didn't know. The Order didn't know that the elf hadn't been reporting to the Dark Lord of his own accord at all. He'd been made to do it by Narcissa and Bellatrix, instead. The elf had sold Black out, but he hadn't done it to show his loyalty to the Dark Lord. He'd done it for the two Black sisters, done it because he must've thought that they'd reward him by bringing him to the Manor.

"Do you know something else?"

Severus stared up at Lupin who'd spoken. There was a significant difference in the man now than when he'd heard from him last. He had always appeared sickly-looking and sounding but there was now something monstrous about his presence. His usual tired eyes were wide and alert, there was a coldness in the way he regarded Severus now, though it came as no surprise to him. Black had been a vital part of Lupin's little friend group at Hogwarts-out of which was only survived by him and the traitorous Peter Pettigrew.

"Well? Is there?" Nymphadora jumped into the conversation now, eyeing Severus suspiciously.

He hesitated. What was he supposed to tell them? That he'd heard Narcissa and her sister talking to the house elf when he'd been at the Manor and that he'd somehow found it irrelevant enough to report to the Order? That he'd known for quite some time that the sisters had evidently been plotting something and he'd conveniently stopped from mentioning it? He could always play the ignorance card and claim he hadn't told them because he hadn't known what it had been about; that was mostly the truth. But the other part was that of course he had been careless and vulnerable. His unexplainable feelings towards Narcissa had somehow placed him in a blind spot and for one moment, his judgement had relapsed and he'd either forgotten to relay the incident or sub-consciously allowed it to be forgotten as an attempt to protect her name.

There was also a much worse revelation to be acknowledged in relation to this entire affair. Everything the two sisters had plotted against Potter had been kept quiet and away from him. He already knew Bellatrix suspected him of being loyal to Dumbledore but Narcissa had failed to mention she'd been up to anything at all. She'd had the opportunity to mention it if anything and yet she had kept it away from him which had to be on purpose. She was hiding things from him and that only implied that she also had reservations about his allegiance to the Dark Lord. She had played him like a fool and it hurt nonetheless to think about it.

"Severus," Minerva said, setting her wine glass down. "Are you alright?"

"He didn't answer the question," Mad-Eye said.

"Sorry, what?" Severus blurted.

"Do you know something else about the elf that we don't?"

He was at a crossroads. If he told them that Narcissa Malfoy was working alongside her Death Eater sister and had been involved with the house elf's treachery towards Black, it would place her as a direct target of the Order of the Phoenix. Not to mention the fact that they'd definitely suspect him of withholding information from the rest of them. He knew there were only a handful that trusted him but if they believed him to be purposefully negligent, he had no doubt that they would use this to have him removed from the whole movement itself. What was he supposed to do? If he sold Narcissa out to the others, they would use this information against her once the war was over (assuming they won, that is). He thought once more of her woeful face, so beautifully haunted by a life she clearly wanted no part of. He knew her, he thought. He properly knew her, not the way Lucius did. She wasn't evil, just misguided in her attempts to keep her husband and son safe. In a way, she was like him. Caught between right and wrong, making difficult choices that often turn out for the worse.

"No," he said finally. "I don't."

If there was anyone that was suspicious, they did not show it. Everyone relaxed once more, settling into the acts of drinking and conversing about Black and all the supposed good he'd done. Severus listened in disdain, knowing full well that the only reason Black was celebrated was because he was dead. All the same, their artificial sadness over Black's death did grant him the temporary distraction he needed from his earlier conversation with Poppy and he was grateful for it-even if it was at the expense of hearing drunken confessions of love for Black.

When almost all of the wine was gone, Mad-Eye staggered to his feet and raised his half-empty glass to the air.

"To Sirius," he said with trembling hands, his drink slushing out to splatter over his face. "To his nerve and heart and bravery."

The others echoed his words in unison, save for Severus who let out a disgruntled snort. Minerva, whose face had turned red from all the drinking, turned to glare at him. Normally, the Order members would have ignored it-they were more than used to his quarrels with Black but with him dead and gone, things turned rather disastrous and very quickly too. Lupin got to his feet, the table being the only thing between Severus and him.

"You have something to say?" Lupin challenged.

Severus sneered, though he chose to remain quiet.

"Alright, everyone, I think we've had enough today-"

"No, no, Molly-please. Let him speak. I want to know what it is he has to say."

"You're drunk, Lupin," Severus said pointedly.

"No, Remus is right. You show up here to Sirius' memorial all smug and then disrespect him," Nymphadora slurred, her voice turning shrill as she spoke.

"Severus," Minerva warned, shaking her head.

For the first time in his life, Severus held his tongue. He stood up, nodding towards his colleague before turning towards the door.

"Just as I thought," said Lupin. "Coward."

Severus stopped just at the door as Molly exhaled quite loudly. He spun round to face the ill-looking man with a jeer.

"What did you say to me?" he asked, his voice low.

"Coward."

"Fine," Severus said waspishly. "You want to know what I think? I think you're all fools. You sit around here, wasting time moping about Black's death as if it meant something-"

"It did mean something," Nymphadora spat. "He died trying to protect Harry-protect all of us. What would you know? You were sleeping it off while the rest of us had to fight off your Death Eater pals!"

Severus flushed, indignant over the young woman's scornful cries.

"Black is only one man," he whispered. "Do you know how many others have died for a worthier cause? It wasn't his bravery that got him killed-it was his pride and arrogance! The great and mighty Sirius Black-bested by Bellatrix Lestrange!"

He was very much aware of the heated gaze he was receiving from everyone around the room. And he was also conscious of the way he was allowing his anger and bitterness consume him whole once more. He couldn't explain what it was that he felt right at this moment. Was it rage that he hadn't been able to fight alongside everyone else at the Ministry? Or guilt that he'd allowed his feelings for Narcissa cloud his judgement? Perhaps it was relief that the two people that had tormented him throughout his school years were now both dead and gone? Whatever it was, it was rendering him incoherent, pushing him to step over the line..

"You be careful of what you say now," Shacklebolt's voice boomed through the room. "Sirius Black died serving as a member of the Order of the Phoenix."

"You will not have me speak the truth?" Severus asked. "Why do you all pretend as if Black's death had any meaning or worth-"

Lupin had vaulted over the table and rushed towards him in tremendous rage. Severus felt his hand push against his bruised chest, drawing a sharp gasp from him as he was slammed against the door. The others shouted out in surprise at the violence, yelling at the werewolf to release him.

"Woah now, son," Shacklebolt called out. "There's no need for this."

"He's right, Remus," Nymphadora interjected in a worried tone. "He's not worth it."

When he didn't budge, she took a step towards Lupin. "You're better than him, Remus."

And just like that, Severus watched as Lupin's shoulders slumped over at the sound of Nymphadora's voice. He relaxed, loosening his grip on Severus.

"So," Severus whispered in a low voice so that only the other man could hear, casting a quick glance over to the pink-haired witch behind them. "Going after things you can't have now, are you? Bit too young for you, isn't she-but I suppose to a werewolf, none of that matters, does it?"

Lupin released his grip on Severus and stepped back.

"Why are you here?" he asked.

"That's my business," Severus spat back angrily.

"Did you think we wanted you here? That you were welcome here?"

"Remus..."

"No one wants you here, Snivellus," Lupin said viciously.

"I was invited!" Severus yelled back.

"Did you know-when you were lying unconscious god knows where while the rest of us were fighting to save Harry, that no one even cared to look for you afterwards? No one cared about where you'd gone-that if you lived or died."

"Stop now, Remus," Minerva screeched.

"Imagine the kind of pathetic existence you're living...it's sad, really. You go round parading the fact that Dumbledore trusts you and that no one else here is as useful or important as you-I used to think it was sheer arrogance on your part but I see it clearly now. You do it because that's the only thing you have. The rest of us-we have a home to go back to. People to go home to. But you-? You have nothing and no one. You're all alone and that's made you so bitter that you take it out on every person you come across."

"Shut up," said Severus, baring his teeth, doing his best to keep his temper under control.

"It's funny," continued Lupin. "That you think you could ever be a part of us. I used to feel sorry for you, do you know that? But that was my mistake. I've been nice to you this entire time and the others may not have the courage to tell you but I will-"

"Will you both stop this childishness?" Molly screamed. "Arthur, will you do something?"

"She's right, Remus, Severus. We should stop before this gets out of hand."

"No," said Severus. "Go on, werewolf. Say what you want to say."

"You are nothing. And you will be nothing. You will die nothing. You're not a part of us and the sad part of it is...if you asked your Death Eater friends, they'd say the same too. You don't belong, Snape. Not here, not there, not anywhere. You have no home and no person and no love in you, only bitterness and hatred. So you take all that evil you have inside you and you get lost from here. You're never to step foot in this house again."

Severus shoved Lupin back roughly. He glanced round at the others who stood quietly, none whom had made the effort to step in and tell him that everything Lupin had said was a lie. His eyes met with Molly's for a brief moment and she shook her head at him, as if trying to convince him to stay. He sneered, body and mind finally defeated after too long a day and stormed out, the buzzing thought in his head returning once more. It was only when he'd Apparated away from headquarters did he allow himself to release the contained sob within himself.

Chapter Text

He reappeared moments later, his feet solidifying beneath him. The early patters of rainfall began to cling onto his fabric, tricking through the same way his anger had seeped slowly into his skin, his veins, and his heart. Severus closed his eyes and looked up, willing the rain to fall upon his face so he wouldn't be able to feel the tears that were escaping him instead.  The tears that were a result, not from Remus Lupin's pathetic attempts at insulting him, but rather the unexplainable emotions that conquered him now. Anger, bitterness, sadness-even jealousy rolled through him that even Occlumency couldn't keep them at bay anymore. 

Your emotions are weakness, his mother had said to him once. So don't you ever let them see it. When she'd told him this, she'd been referring to when he'd wept about all the horrible things people had done to him at Hogwarts. He'd been inconsolable, so angry at everyone and everything that the only thing he could do was bury his face in his mother's shoulders and weep. Her advice had been solid but a small part of him suspected that it perhaps had been a terrible thing to say to an upset child. He'd learned from then on to keep his matters to himself, that complaining to anyone else about the burdens he shouldered wouldn't help him nor anyone else. Instead, he practiced keeping them suppressed until he eventually discovered the art of the Occlumens. Though, as good as he was, there were certainly moments when his composure slipped and he allowed his emotions to get the better of him. He thought briefly at the poor way he'd handled Potter after the boy had snooped on his private memories.

Severus pressed his lips together tightly, opening his eyes once more. He exhaled loudly when he realized where it was he'd apparated to. Wandless magic certainly was unpredictable, especially for wizards like him whom had never gone a day without a wand in hand. He'd intended to apparate back home but his magic must have misinterpreted it, taking him instead to the one place he'd spent nearly all his life running away from. He stood there so still, his battered shoes caked in mud and water, that anyone passing by would have mistaken him for a statue. Overhead, the sky was brazen with thick smoke and dull clouds, matching in desolateness with the silhouettes of dilapidated houses over the small hills. With a sigh, he stepped through the gravel and stones, aware that his overlong cloak had dredged a careless amount of dirt and small rocks and twigs.

Had it been anywhere else, he'd have somewhat worried about being seen by Muggles. But this was Spinner's End, he thought. Dirty and barren and bleak Spinner's End. And he knew this place well, so well that he knew the residents here could give less of a rat's arse on who came and went. They were either too busy finding ways to make ends meet and not die in the process. The stench of poverty and sickness plagued the air which meant that nothing had changed since the last time he'd been here. He hadn't abandoned the place completely of course, for this was where his mother's house was. Her final resting place, never mind the horrors she had endured here. As much as he hated everything about this place, he loved her enough at least to visit her once or twice a year. But he was always a visitor, a stranger-never an inhabitant.

As he looked upon the rows of houses now, he could see his childhood house sticking out like a sore spot amongst the others. When he'd been a boy, his mother had enchanted their house's roof to glow so that he'd always know when it was time to come home from playing by the riverside. It had been the last bit of magic she'd done because she'd wanted to. After that, she only resorted to using magic when it became absolutely necessary-and there hadn't been many times of that, either. It was sick, he thought. He couldn't ever imagine parting or giving up using magic, not under any circumstances. Magic was the only good thing to have happened to him and he'd die before he ever stopped using it. Severus stared a little while at the roof; the charm had worn off considerably since then and only a faint glimmer of it remained, but only because he knew to look for it there.

Shaking away the dregs of melancholy that stirred up inside him now, Severus continued moving, not knowing what exactly was driving him forwards. He was only a short distance away when he spotted the figure sitting there by his doorsteps. He could tell who it was even from the stretch of space between them, he'd memorized her well. His first instinct was to berate her for sitting out here in the rain, worried she might catch an illness from the cold. He realized momentarily after that he had no right to feel this way of her, not when she belonged to someone else.

"Narcissa," he said softly when he had gotten close enough. "What are you doing here?"

His voice was breathy and panicky, like a boy who'd just been caught by a school crush. She smiled but her sunken cheeks and blotchy face were enough to deduce that she'd been crying. He couldn't blame her, not after knowing all of her fears for her husband's safety had come true. 

"You weren't at Hogwarts," she said. "Where were you?"

If it had been anyone else, Severus would have inferred an accusatory tone in her voice. But this was Narcissa, he thought, and all it sounded at this moment was a woman disappointed and frustrated. He paused, hesitating.

"I was-elsewhere."

"With the Dark Lord?"

"No," he replied sharply. "Narcissa, about Lucius-"

"You weren't at the Ministry, either," she continued, eyes shifting wildly about. "When they were attacked."

"Narcissa," he implored, "if there was anything I could have done-"

Wordless, she crossed two steps towards him before he could say anything else and stood mere inches away from him. She gazed up at him with an anguished expression, her long nose threatening to press against his own if he moved even a little. 

"But you didn't, did you? You stood back and let him go off on his own!" she hissed.

"He didn't think to tell me, did he? You and your husband and your sister-you all just do things without confiding in me and then expect me to clean up after you? Is that what I am to you?"

Narcissa was taken aback with his sudden aggressiveness. He hadn't meant to lash out but everything that had been crowding up his mind since he'd left Grimmauld Place was swimming to the surface now. He could hear Lupin's taunting jeers and willed himself to keep that particular part quenched down. He couldn't afford to make mistakes, not now. He could see the poor woman at a loss for words and expected her to slap him for his impertinence. Narcissa, however, stepped back and instead burst into a full set of tears. She clutched her head and tugged at her hair so hard he thought she might rip it off. 

"I told him," she cried. "I told him that it was a mistake-that there was no way Dumbledore would have allowed Potter to go to the Ministry on his own! But he was delusional! Him and Bella-they thought because...because the house-elf suggested Sirius as Potter's weakness...oh, I told him!"

Severus steered towards her, hands gingerly wrapping around her own and bringing it away from doing anymore damage to her hair. She let him, sobbing into chest as he did.

"If you'd been there...if you had...you'd have got him out of there safely," Narcissa said, lifting her head to look up at him. "You would have, wouldn't you?"

He shook his head weakly. "We will never know."

She let out a small scream and he seized her hands by instinct, bringing it down to her sides. "You must calm down, Narcissa. Come-come inside, have some tea..."

He realized he was trembling, too, and only part of it was owed to the thundering rain around them. In all his flurry to console this woman, he hadn't realized just how hard the rain was beating down upon them now.  

"No!" she screamed, wrenching herself away from his grasp. "No-how can I-? When my husband...what will I tell Draco? That his father is as good as dead-?"

"How can you say that?"

"How can I not? He failed him, Severus. He failed the Dark Lord-"

"He was captured while under the command of the Dark Lord," Severus pleaded the woman. "Captured for his loyalty towards him-when he returns, when he is free, he will be rewarded!"

Narcissa threw her head back to laugh, it was cold and raspy. "Reward?" she asked. "He'll be lucky if the Dark Lord does not kill him!"

Severus shook his head fervently. "I won't let that happen. Narcissa, I promise you, I'll die before I let anything happen to him-"

The grief-struck woman then reached out to push him with such fervor that despite her timid figure, he staggered on his feet lightly.

"I DON'T CARE!" she shrieked, the shrill of her voice almost deafening him. "I DON'T CARE ABOUT HIM! I STOPPED CARING THE MOMENT HE ABANDONED DRACO AND ME-HIS FAMILY-FOR THE DARK LORD!"

"You must be careful of your words, Narcissa," he said as he glanced around them warily. "If anyone else were to hear-"

"LET THEM HEAR!" she yelled back. "WHAT ELSE HAVE I TO LOSE?"

Even with the rain bulleting round them and blurring his vision, he could see just how red her face was. As he watched helplessly, Narcissa began to cry earnestly, the sound of her misery returning that dull ache in his chest once more.

"Draco," Severus replied. "And me."

She looked up at him then, her eyes suddenly widened. Her expressions were so raw that he could read every emotion upon her face now. His fingers twitched by his sides and he wanted nothing more than to pull her into a deep embrace so that at least then he wouldn't have to look at her. But he was weak so he allowed himself to stare back at her with equal intensity. There was a moment there then, both fully drenched in the rain, where they simply looked back at each other with an expected yearning that was so powerful he couldn't suffer breaking the contact. When her fingers found his, the touch threatened to break his gaze away but he endured it. When they traced his wrists, he jumped back as though it had burned him. Some sensibility returned to him and he thought it best to maintain it.

"You should head back," he said weakly, his hand swiping away at the beads of water across his face. 

Narcissa was soaked through, her hair falling in strands about her face, limp and loose. There was something determined in the way she stood, never mind her frail posture and even shakier gaze. She said nothing but continued to stare at him, as if she was trying to pierce through his soul. When he could bear it no longer, he looked away. The awkwardness had somehow multiplied and he wanted nothing more than to turn on his heels and start running. Figuring she must not have heard him, he opened his mouth to repeat it once more. But this time, she cut across him cleanly.

"All this while," she said, pursing her lips. "All this while I've been telling myself that I'd been imagining things-that I was seeing into things that weren't real. That this wasn't real."

Severus watched her, mesmerized by the way the rain droplets formed perfect loops of running down her face. It was almost impossible how beautiful this woman looked, and he only hoped he didn't stare as greedily as he felt he was. He could hear the words she was saying but none of it was making any sense.

"What wasn't real?" he asked blankly.

There was a distant boom above them. 

"I wanted so desperately to be wrong. To know that it had just been my loneliness that'd been making up false truths to keep me occupied. To give me hope when I had none left in love."

"Narcissa, what are you talking ab-"

"What do you want, Severus? she said then, ignoring him. "What do you want-more than anything else in this whole world?"

He stared at her with apprehension. 

"Things," he answered, his eyes boring into hers. "Things I can't have. Things I won't ever have."

"Me, too," she said with a sad smile.

"You should really head back," Severus said.

But Narcissa hadn't heard, or perhaps she'd chosen not to. She took her old spot from before, inches away from his face that he could see the mist rising out of her mouth as she exhaled. As the thunder struck once more, Narcissa Malfoy bridged that final gap between them with her mouth pressed firmly against his. Her shoulders heaved as she went to stand on her toes, meeting his height comfortably. Severus stood there, blank and unyielding, until he closed his eyes and let her fall against him. He leaned downwards so their chests touched. Severus swayed on his feet, his left hand tracing the outline of her arm before it came to rest on her waist. He held in his breath when she tilted her head to kiss him better, deeper, forgetting everything but her name when her lips left his for half of a second. And then when she was back on him, he could hardly hear his heartbeat over the sound of the rain thundering around them.

It was only when she groaned his name that his senses finally returned to him and he realized that he was kissing the very woman whom he had promised her husband to protect. The hand that was bunched around the fabric of her robes inched away quietly and came instead to gently push her away from him. She deterred, chasing his lips hungrily that he was more than inclined to give in to her. The second time she whispered her name against his lips, he drew away, turning downwards so his forehead rested against her lips. 

They were both wet and cold but the breathlessness of the kiss had left them both warm and wanting. Severus' fingers clasped around his back as he stared down at the ground, embarrassed at his total loss of control. When he had courage enough to gaze up at her once more, he saw the faces of Lucius and Draco Malfoy staring back at him. He bit his tongue, his anger at Remus Lupin and everyone else at Grimmauld Place simmered enough that it now allowed the fear and anxiousness of what he had just done to set in. He'd betrayed just about every single person across the board with a single decision-but this was something he would think about only later, when he was finally alone enough to be consumed once more by the enemy inside of him.

"Narcissa, I-"

She shook her head, placing a finger against his lips. He tried to move away but she grabbed his hands so tightly that it was impossible to break, or so he told himself at least.

"Don't say it," she murmured.

"You don't even know what I'm about to say," he argued, teasing a smile out of her.

"I do, " said Narcissa. "Of course I do. But you mustn't say it."

"No?"

"No."

"Why not?"

"Because," she said, lifting his hand so she could kiss the back of it, "you'd be saying it out of fear for what happens later. Not because you meant it."

He thought for a moment. There was a million things he could say to undo what he'd just done; he could tell her that he'd been drunk or she'd been too upset and in that brief moment of vulnerability-they'd made a mistake. He knew it would be easy enough to lie, to give her a way out of this. But she wasn't letting him, he thought, and that must mean she feels the same way about me as I do of her-whatever it was that he did feel for her. He decided that she was right, that if he uttered any of the words he intended to say, it wouldn't be the truth. Nothing but empty words, a cowardly attempt to excuse what they'd done.

"Alright," he replied. "I won't say it."

Narcissa nodded, chest rising and falling rapidly. Severus felt his cheeks flush when his eyes fell upon her lips once more.

"You should go," Severus said uncomfortably. "It's late."

He couldn't hide away the dejection in his expression when Narcissa didn't argue with him this time, and instead nodded swiftly before turning away from him. He already missed her warmth, the feeling she had left him with was strange and unfamiliar and he did not want to be left alone with it. Severus stared after her, long after she had disapparated, wondering what on earth had possessed him to do what he had. He had kissed Narcissa Malfoy. The woman he'd sworn off as his enemy not hours before, the same woman who had secretly plotted for Potter's downfall while playing the role of a woman in despair. Had this been another act? Now with Lucius gone, had she decided that she could sink her claws into him and drag out of him the safety he could provide her with? With Lucius failing the Dark Lord, surely she'd have guessed that Severus would be next in line. Perhaps she believed that if she were in close terms with him, that the Dark Lord would spare punishment onto the rest of her family members. He felt sick and wished, for the first time in many years, that he could just disappear somewhere where he'd be left alone for the rest of his remaining life. He felt the walls around his chest come closing in and his fingers moved circles around them, assuaging the pain he felt there.

He thought then of the way she had looked at him. Her gaze hadn't been cold and calculating, but rather a soul in starvation of something more. Maybe she wasn't intending to use him, but instead to find something else in him? But what did he have that he could ever offer her? His own soul was in ruins, tattered to the point that no need and thread in the world could put it all back together again. Every bit of him ran on bitterness and misery and unending darkness, and he shuddered to think what having her so close to him would do to her. He would ruin her, destroy what little else joy remained within her. He couldn't do that to her, not after everything he'd been through after Lily. He'd keep Narcissa and Draco Malfoy safe, just as he'd promised Lucius, and there's be nothing else more. Once he was free, Lucius would be reunited with his wife and child and he'll find a way to make amends to their strained relationship. Severus would make sure of it himself. He had worse things to look out for now, rather than worry about the nature of Narcissa's feelings towards him.

The war had begun and it won't be long before Dumbledore required his active service once more. And once that started, he'd have no more time to think about anything else. But, until that moment came, he would indulge himself in that something he'd felt in the corners of his heart when Narcissa's mouth had been on his. The rain hadn't stopped pouring down on Spinner's End and yet Severus remained standing there in his swamped clothes, his fingers tracing over his lips and a pleasant smile on his face.

Chapter Text

The summers spent at Privet Drive had always been the most dreadful part of the year for Harry. It was mainly because it was the only time when Harry had to leave Hogwarts to come and live with his aunt, uncle and cousin-all of whom despised him very much for his wizard heritage. But among all of the summers he'd had with them, this year had taken the cake. Every night since he'd been back here, Harry had woken up in cold sweats and screams that could only be comparable to that of a wild animal being put down. He couldn't help it if his mind tormented him with nightmares about Cedric, his parents and Sirius being murdered right before his own eyes. Though Harry had become accustomed to these dreams by now, Vernon and Petunia Dursley were horrified that their neighbours would hear and come to complain about his strange behavior. There was nothing they could do about it, of course, but still, they managed to show their contempt for him as each day passed.

With Uncle Vernon going off to work every morning and Dudley in school, Harry was stuck in the house with Aunt Petunia. Aunt Petunia was Harry's mother's sister but despite the relation, had never once shown any affection or sympathy for him. She would hurriedly shoo him out of the house, often making him stay outside until it was bedtime. Harry suspected that it was because she hoped that with the amount of neglect he was being shown, someone from Hogwarts would come down and take him away from here. As much as he disliked her, he couldn't blame her for the way she acted, either. Not only had he kept them from sleeping every night with his nightmares, he'd also given them a large scare last year when the Dementors had attacked their son, Dudley. Aunt Petunia was probably afraid that something else more dangerous might come knocking down their house while on the search for Harry.

Deep down, Harry wished that someone would come and fetch him. He'd been keeping in touch with Ron the past three weeks, and whose parents had promised that they'd do all they can to get him out of there. But Harry knew that until Dumbledore gave them permission to do so, he wouldn't be allowed to leave here. He was stuck here for at least another month or so, that much he knew. And since he was banned from the Dursleys' home until nighttime, Harry had taken on the job for exploring the town instead. To his delight, he'd found a new place to hang out until it was time to head back. It was an old, abandoned playground about a half hour's walk from Privet Drive. There were a few swing-sets whose seats were either broken or missing but the treasure of the place was the stretch of land hidden away neatly behind a thicket of bushes. With the canopy overhead keeping the place cool and shady, Harry often laid there for hours just staring up and thinking about nothing in particular. It was a wonderful feeling, he thought, to just think about nothing at all while the birds chirped melodies around him.

More times than not, though, his mind wandered back to the night at the Ministry. It had been two weeks since Harry and his friends had gone to the Ministry to rescue Sirius from Voldemort. Two weeks since Harry found out the contents of the prophecy Trelawney had made for him. Two weeks since Sirius had been killed at the battle. Even now, with his eyes shut tight, he could see it as if it were unfolding in front of him all over again. The unforgivable curse leaving Bellatrix Lestrange's lips; the green jet of light that flew off the tip of her wand and hit Sirius square in the chest; the way his godfather had given him a final, fleeting smile before falling over backwards into that strange veil behind him. He could hear the voices clearly, like ghosts haunting a graveyard, urging him to follow after Sirius and bring him back. Telling him that all he had to do was reach a hand into the swirling mist and drag Sirius out again.

Harry sighed as he sat up. His fingers needlessly picked at the fallen leaves around him, twisting and tearing away at them as he thought deeply. He had had two weeks to think about everything that had happened, had two weeks to realize that saving Sirius had been an impossible task from the first place. Even if he'd managed to pull Sirius back before he'd fallen into that veil, there was no saving him from Bellatrix's killing curse. He'd been destined to die the minute he'd stepped foot in the Ministry that night, that much Harry was certain.

But there was also the fact that he wouldn't have died at all in the first place. Sirius's death was not inevitable, it was simply due to carelessness to everyone that had been there. Harry was largely to blame for it, he'd admit that much. If he hadn't been so weak and fallen for that false memory Voldemort had teased him with, if he hadn't been reckless enough to go to the Ministry to rescue Sirius...

There were others to be blamed as well. Lupin and Tonks and the other members of the Order of the Phoenix played a small part in his godfather's death - they should have been firm with him, should have forced him to remain behind at headquarters for his own safety. This was a weak response he made up only so he didn't have to bear the burden of being responsible for Sirius' death, he knew. No matter what they'd said or done, Sirius wouldn't have listened. Not when it was Harry's life that had been at risk, no.

Snape, on the other hand, was a more accountable culprit for Sirius' death. Not only had he bullied Sirius and made him feel inadequate as part of the Order, he'd wasted away time they couldn't afford in that room with the Boggart. Harry was confident that if Snape hadn't come after him in that room, he'd have been spared the attack from the Boggart and would've had plenty of time to get away and warn Sirius about the Death Eaters at the Ministry. Harry's eyebrows crossed together as he thought about Snape now. Snape had hated Sirius, and there was no doubt that he had enjoyed hearing the news of his death. It should've been him that died, Harry thought viciously. It should've been Snape, he thought wretchedly, not Sirius.

Blaming Snape gave Harry the small bit of relief he needed from his own rendering guilt. It felt good to blame Snape for Sirius' death, even if he knew that that hadn't been the case at all. It made life just a little bearable and Harry thought he'd take whatever he could get. He sighed as he fell back against the grass once more, having exhausted himself with all his thoughts once more. He allowed himself a moment of quiet, those strain of thoughts poking away at his head began to clear away until his head was empty once more. Harry thought about the canvas above him, blue and endless, and willed his mind to be the same. It took practice but he'd manage in the end. And then when there was nothing else left to think about, he'd wander into a deep sleep.

He'd find himself floating towards the broken swings, which looked quite new and fixed in his dream. A little red-headed girl wearing a short, flowy dress would be there by the swing, stepping atop it as she laughed. To Harry's amazement, the swing would start to move on its own as if by magic, lifting her higher and higher into the air while she laughed. Her head would be thrown back as the wind blew against her face, happiness emanating from her so loud that it caught onto Harry and he'd be grinning, too. The dream was always the same one. When he laughed along with the girl, she would turn to look at him as if she could see him standing there. She'd beam at him, her green eyes sparkling against the trees and cloud and everything else.

After that, he'd wake up and curse that a dream as good as that would end so abruptly. It was the same this time round, too. When he came to his senses, everything around him was dark. One glance at the darkening sky told him that it'd start raining soon. Harry decided that it was best he head home; Petunia Dursley would scream her head off if he came home dripping wet and dragging mud everywhere. His jacket wrapped around him tight and hands buried deep in his pockets, Harry trudged his way back to the Dursleys' home, praying they'd be too busy to pay him any mind.

Before he entered, Harry made sure he'd moved his wand that was tucked into his shirt into his pocket. The last time Uncle Vernon had seen it sticking out of his shirt, he'd thrown a fit and had wanted Harry to hand it over to him so he could snap it in two. He was pleased that Uncle Vernon and Dudley weren't back yet and Aunt Petunia wasn't in the living room when he came in. He walked coolly towards the staircase that led up to his room, whistling cheerily as he did. He'd crossed the first step when he heard Aunt Petunia's voice coming from the kitchen. He frowned, wondering if she was upset by something he had done. Knowing it was best he see to it now before Uncle Vernon returned, Harry turned back in the direction of the kitchen.

He was at the entrance when he heard raised voices coming in from the kitchen. Harry stopped mid-track, frozen in shock as a familiar voice echoed from inside. A second later, it was followed by his aunt's shrill voice in response.

"I told you...I don't know where he's gone! He's usually back by now-"

"So where is he, then?" asked Severus Snape. "You're responsible for the boy, you do know that, don't you?"

"How dare you speak to me that way? I won't have you-you-I'll tell Dumbledore about this-about you-"

There was a short pause. And then-

"Oh, yes," said Snape silkily. "I expect you remember how to do that pretty well-"

Aunt Petunia gave a low hiss. "Nothing's changed, has it, you nasty man?"

Snape laughed incredulously and Harry had to step back in puzzlement.

Aunt Petunia had never shown niceties to anyone that had anything to do with Harry and he expected nothing worse of Snape, either, but seeing the exchange between the two gave Harry the inkling that perhaps this wasn't their first encounter. But that idea was almost impossible because Aunt Petunia was a Muggle who despised wizards and witches and Harry didn't think Snape had any love for Muggles, either. Or Muggleborns, for that matter. He thought back briefly of the memory of his father hanging Snape upside down in the air and the way his mother had come to his aid only for him to call her a Mudblood.

"Right," Aunt Petunia said in a final tone. "I've said what I've had to say and now I want you to leave. If my husband returns to find you here..."

Harry heard Snape gave a loud snort. "You think I'm afraid of that Muggle? I told you I'm not leaving until I-"

"Erm," replied Harry, finally stepping into the kitchen.

Snape and Aunt Petunia both turned round to look at him at the same time. Snape was seated by the round table while Petunia was standing by the sink, arms folded across her chest and a cross expression on her face. Harry shoved his hands into his pockets just so he had something to do with his hands, both curious and nervous to know why Snape, of all people, had come to look for him at his aunt and uncle's.

"Potter," said Snape horribly. "Where were you?"

"I'll ask the questions, thank you very much," snapped Aunt Petunia. "Well? Where were you?"

Harry raised his eyebrows. "Out."

"Out," Snape repeated, making to stand from his seat. "You were out?"

It was only now that Harry seemed to realize there was something rather off with Snape. He was wearing a dark shirt and trousers, most of which was covered away by the large grey overcoat he had on. No doubt it was his attempt to blend in with the Muggle surrounding, but it was done with such a poor lack of effort that Harry couldn't help but wonder if he'd dressed this way on purpose-as if he'd known it would've gotten on Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon's nerves. But seeing his teacher in odd, overlarge Muggle clothes was not the strangest thing about him. It was his hair, Harry thought. The greasy curtains of hair that often framed his sour and displeased expression had been cut quite short so that it hung awkwardly about his face. The shoulder length hair had also been trimmed so it stuck about the back of his neck as if he'd tried to cut it off himself.

Harry had been distracted by Snape's appearance that he'd failed to register the man's question. Aunt Petunia had temporarily fallen silent as Snape strode towards Harry, watching the two of them with apprehension as if an attack was about to occur. Her fear tugged at Harry too, who quietly felt about for his wand as he waited for Snape to speak.

"Potter, have you forgotten what happened here a summer ago? Or would you like for me to remind you?"

Harry looked at Snape, unfazed. "I remember."

"You do, do you?" asked Snape in a low voice. "Tell me, Potter, do you know how many lives have gone to waste for your sake?"

"Lives gone to waste...what-?" Aunt Petunia stammered, staring at them wildly.

"And yet you continue to place yourself in situations that could bring you harm. If Black could see you now-"

"Don't you dare talk about Sirius!"

"Dumbledore made it clear that you were to remain here in this house because it is the only place that can protect you. But that doesn't matter to you, does it? No-no, why would it? I suppose when you're the Chosen One, you can do anything you like!"

Snape and Harry glared daggers at each other, both wanting nothing more than to jinx each other to the afterlife.

"Petunia, darling? What's going on-?"

At the sound of Uncle Vernon's voice, all three of them spun to see him standing behind Harry. When he laid eyes on Snape, Uncle Vernon dropped the suitcase he'd been holding and wagged a large finger at him.

"You!" shouted Harry's uncle, eyes bulging as if they were about to pop out. "What are you doing here? In my house?"

"He's here for the boy, Vernon," Petunia said quickly, waving her hands at her husband as if to calm him down.

"For him? What the hell did he do now?"

"Nothing!" Harry cried out defensively.

"I have orders from the Ministry requesting for Potter's presence at St. Mungo's," Snape said calmly, eyes darting from Uncle Vernon to Harry. "You're coming with me, Potter."

Hearing this, Harry absent-mindedly took a step back. The Ministry? St. Mungo's? Seeing the falter in his steps, Aunt Petunia launched yet another attack against Snape.

"Then why doesn't he know about it?" she asked, pointing at Harry.

"I don't have to explain myself to you," Snape replied in a bitter voice.

"If he wants the boy, he can keep him!" Uncle Vernon yelled back. "So long as they're both out! Out!"

Harry looked around but there was no one there to say a word in his defense. He didn't want to go with Snape and he certainly didn't have any interest in staying here with the Dursleys either, seeing how much his uncle wanted to be rid of him. Harry found himself missing Sirius very much just then. He wished for what felt like the hundredth time that day that his godfather was still alive and that he'd come and take him away to Grimmauld Place.

"No, Vernon," said Petunia in a small, frightened voice. "We can't let him leave with Harry."

Harry and Uncle Vernon shared a similar look of confusion.

"What do you mean, Petunia?" Uncle Vernon asked.

"Dumbledore was clear with his instructions. He is not to leave this place unless Dumbledore himself arrives to take Harry with him. Everyone else is...not to be trusted. Especially not him."

As she spoke, she snuck a glance at Snape. He was staring at her with a murderous intention in his eyes, his hands clenched at his sides.

"You want to be careful of what you're suggesting," Snape said with a snarl.

"Or what?" Uncle Vernon said, stepping forwards. "Are you threatening my wife?"

"And if I am? What are you going to do about it, Dursley? Talk me to death?" Snape asked as he regarded the shorter man with a condescending smile.

Uncle Vernon rushed forwards, hands wildly reaching out to grab Snape. But Snape, unlike with Sirius, appeared unconcerned with him. Once Uncle Vernon was close enough to grab Snape, the hook-nosed man swiped his wand at the air, pointing it directly between Uncle Vernon’s eyes.

”Get that thing out of my face!” his uncle roared, backing away all the same.

”He won’t do it!” Aunt Petunia cried aloud. “He can’t! He’s not allowed-not in front of us!”

Snape didn’t seem too thrilled about Harry’s aunt’s revelation about the wizarding world’s rules on magic. He refused to lower his wand, however, and continued to eye Uncle Vernon with a calculating look.

”Look at you,” Snape said in a daunting voice. “Been reading up about us lot, have you?”

Aunt Petunia flushed. Upon seeing her reaction, Uncle Vernon bared his teeth at Snape once more.

”We know what that word means,” he was saying as Aunt Petunia tried to pull him back. “We'll tell Dumbledore all about this! He'll see to it that you're punished for-for-for trespassing! He'll send you packing!"

"He won't if I wipe your memory," Snape said with a cruel smile. Harry knew perfectly well he was only joking but his aunt and uncle blanched at the threat.

"No, you won't! You'll get in trouble if you do so you get out now!"

"Fine," said Snape coolly. "You're coming with me, Potter."

"He's one of the bad ones, Vernon," Aunt Petunia said suddenly. "Those...Death things or something that they're called-they hunt and kill people like us...and he (she pointed to Snape) is one of them. So no, we can't let him leave with the boy."

Harry's mouth was agape, taken aback at just how much Aunt Petunia appeared to know about Snape. Snape on the other hand looked like he'd just swallowed a rock, color rising to his cheeks as he glowered at her.

"There," said Uncle Vernon, clapping his hands together. “There, that’s sorted then. You’re some sort of…terrorist...who no doubt want the boy for some evil plan you've got cooked up! You look here, Snape, I warned you before-we are not jeopardizing the protection that crackpot old fool has us under, so- you can get out the way you headed in! The boy stays here!"

Snape was furious. He turned to Harry, black eyes jittering wildly as he regarded him. Snape looked as though he had come here expecting trouble, and now that he was at his wit's end, he had no choice but to play his last hand.

"Potter," he said. "You have been instructed under orders from the Ministry for Magic to undergo an extensive evaluation of your health at St. Mungo's in relations with you prior incident with the Boggart at the Department of Mysteries. If you fail to show up for your evaluation, it may result in unforeseeable consequences. In other words, if you directly disobey this order, you will face expulsion from the school and may face charges for disobeying the government."

As he spoke, he reached into his coat pocket and withdrew from it a folded letter. He handed it to Harry wordlessly. Harry quickly opened it, scanning through it to see if he could gather any other information he could. He was aware of Uncle Vernon standing behind him, trying to lean in to catch some of the words written on the letter. When he was done, Harry handed the letter back to Snape and looked round at his aunt and uncle. Everyone waited in silence for Harry to speak.

"He's right," Harry said. "I have to go with him."

"That's preposterous!" Uncle Vernon shouted. "I won't have you endangering my family by running away like this! You are going to-"

"Dumbledore has agreed to this already," Snape said in a forced voice. "I assure you I am not one to act without sense, nor am I foolish enough to defy or go against the orders of Albus Dumbledore."

Harry felt the jab Snape made towards Sirius and hated him for it.

"It's okay," Harry interjected. "This letter really is from the Ministry."

Aunt Petunia gave a snort.

"Fine," she said sharply. "Do whatever you want. But if Dumbledore comes down here demanding to know why we let you go off with him, that's on you!"

Uncle Vernon stared at Snape for a moment longer until his wife brushed past him. He followed suit, yelling that the two of them had better be gone by the time he came down for dinner.

"Get moving, Potter," Snape hissed, jabbing Harry's back to make him move. "I can't stand here a minute longer."

"I have to pack first, haven't I?" he asked.

"To go where, exactly?"

"I don't know...I thought...after the Ministry that you'd take me to the Weasleys or something."

"I am neither your parent nor your servant, Potter. We are going to the Ministry and then after that, I am sending you back here to continue the rest of your summer holidays with your dear aunt and uncle."

Harry sighed. He had hoped for a little too much and had been served with more disappointment. Before Snape could shove at him again, Harry shuffled towards the back door of the house, wondering how his summer could turn any worse than it had.

Chapter Text

This chapter goes back to two weeks ago prior to Severus' meeting with Harry and the Dursleys at Privet Drive.

It had been about six hours since Narcissa Malfoy had kissed him senseless in the rain over by Spinner's End.

He knew because he had counted every passing second, minute and hour since it had happened. Long after the woman had left him standing by his late mother's house, Severus had simply stood there in the rain, wet and wrinkled fingers touching his lips that had met with Narcissa's own moments before. He should feel bad, he thought. He was a wicked man that hadn't taken so much as a day to advance on another man's wife. He couldn't blame Narcissa for the slip-up. She'd only just had her husband sent to Azkaban, she had no room to think about the severity of her choices. But he-Severus-would take accountability for what he'd done. Yet, all that came to his head when he thought about what he'd done was pleasantness. The way his hands and lips felt when they were in such proximity felt only right, as if the very purpose he'd been made was to hold her close against him.

He grew tired of standing there, eventually, and entered into his home. He dragged in rainwater, mud and traces of anger and confusion into the near-dilapidated house. It had been a while since he'd been here last, that was pretty much evident from the cobwebs hanging around every inch and corner of the living room. The books by the shelves had been swallowed up by piles of dust that had his mother seen them, would have wept. Thinking of her, Severus strode towards the poorly stacked-books. His father had built them by hand for her when they'd first moved in, that was what she'd told him when he'd been little. It was strange to think that at one point in their lives, his parents had been in love and happy. More befuddling was imagining a man in his father that his mother had once been fond of. Tobias Snape had been a human being before.

The thought horrified him more than anything else because it meant Severus had grown up to be the very man he'd despised once. Like his father, he had been a decent person, once. For all the boys and girls that had bullied him relentlessly for his ugly appearance as a child, there were twice as many who liked him as he was. There was Mrs. Adler, the old lady who lived behind the riverside, who often referred to Severus as  "charming young man" because he had tea with her on Sunday evenings after helping her weed out the garden. There was Mr. and Mrs. Evans too, whom even after his falling out with Lily, kept contact until they moved away to Wales. He remembered how they'd offered him to live with them after his mother passed, wondering how differently his life would have turned out if he had accepted their hospitality and kindness. But Lily had been clear about their friendship, and to go and live in her house would be likened to beating a dead horse. Still, if they'd offered, that must have meant they liked him. He thought about what they'd think of him now; the man who'd run off and joined a Muggle-hating group of wizards that were to blame for their daughter's death.

Severus frowned, running a hand through his mother's old books carefully. He didn't want to be reckless lest he angered the ghost of his mother, wherever she was. He smiled just then as he thought of her, suddenly missing her for the first time in years. He stood there for a while, his drenched clothes staining away the damaged carpets and wooden floors. He hoped that being here and thinking of his mother would keep away the thoughts he wanted most ardently to explore. He couldn't afford to be vulnerable, he thought, especially not now when he could be seconds away from being summoned by the Dark Lord. He had to think of everything but of the Malfoy woman and the way she had stared at him before kissing him. 

Six hours later, Severus stood in front of Ollivanders, the memory of Narcissa's misty breath and rain-covered lips clear as day in his mind. He cursed himself inwardly for behaving very much like a giddy teenager in love. This isn't love, he told himself as he reached for the doorknob. He was neither capable of giving or showing love, not for a long time now. It was just an infatuation, he'd become obsessed with the attention Narcissa had given him and was now alluded into believing this was something more. He cared for her, that was all. She was Lucius' wife and Draco's mother. She wasn't his. No one was.

As he entered the dimly-lit room, his eyes sought for the short wizard who was often sat on his long, rickety stool by the entrance. When he noticed the vacant seat, Severus busied himself by looking through the shelves of stacked wand boxes. He had entered here only once before and hadn't ever seen the point of coming here after that. He'd been eleven and had managed to convince Lily that this was the first place they needed to go to get their wands. It was frankly the only place he could go; his mother had saved up enough for a wand - the rest, his books, uniforms and cauldrons, had been either his mother's or passed down from wherever it was she'd scraped it from. He remembered now, though distinctly, that his mother had mentioned of an estranged brother who'd sent her some of Severus' school supplies before. But Severus himself hadn't heard nor seen this man before.

"Severus Snape?"

Severus turned with a soft gasp, his hand knocking into a couple boxes. He made to adjust them before turning to the frail-looking wizard opposite him.

"You remember me?"

"Of course I do," said Ollivander with a forced smile. "I remember every face I've sold a wand to. Came in here with young Miss Evans, didn't you? Yours was a 13-inch yew-was it? Unicorn hair? And Miss Evans' was a willow wand...unicorn hair as well."

Severus thought it was best he said nothing. It often surprised him that there were still people left whom remembered of his friendship with Lily, never mind how brief or unnatural it had been to them.

"I need a new one made," he said.

"Oh?" asked Ollivander quietly. "Old one not working as well?"

"It got lost," Severus said simply. "You remember my wand well still, I don't suppose you've got a similar one lying back there?"

It was not his intention to be so hostile to the older man, but the way Ollivander was staring at him strangely made him feel  watched all of a sudden. He could feel his skin prickling as the wand-maker opted to cross to where Severus was rather than behind his usual space. His eyes followed Ollivander restlessly until the shorter man was standing in front of him, hand extended out to him.

"Your hand," Ollivander said.

Severus stepped back, arms crossed behind his back defensively. "What?"

"If I am to sell you a wand, my good man, I will need to see your hand."

"Why?" Severus asked in brute voice.

"If a man is to sell the secrets of his trade, he wouldn't have one anymore now, would he?"

Every second that passed in the cramped store made Severus feel all the more uneasy. Still, he couldn't leave here without a wand. As much as he did not want to, Severus stretched his right arm out to meet with Ollivander's.

"The other arm," the old man said, a curious expression crossing his face.

Severus flinched as he allowed Ollivander to reach out and grab his left arm, looking away as the man's grip lingered at his wrist where the Dark Mark had been branded onto his skin. Ollivander stared with a shaken expression as though he could see through the fabric of Severus' clothes and to the mark on his arm. Discomfited by this, Severus tried to pull away but Ollivander had an iron grip on him.

"So," whispered Ollivander finally. "Outgrew the yew, did you?"

"What...do you mean?"

But Ollivander did not answer. Instead, he released Severus' arm and strode to the back room. There was a short grunting noise and the sound of a ladder straining as it dragged across the floor. A moment later, Ollivander returned with a dusty wand-box in tow. He quietly removed the lid, withdrawing from it a long, handsome wand. He took a moment to marvel it alongside Severus himself before thrusting it into his hand.

"Redwood," said Ollivander. "Rarely do I find the right type of wizard suited to it, and rarer still if it chooses the user. Still, try it."

Severus was full of questions but he had no time to spare. He'd come here with a wand and a wand he would leave with. He was hit with a bit of nostalgia as he raised the wand in the air and gave it a slight flick of his wrist. He could feel a strange humming noise coming from the wand as he did but it felt foreign, as though it was not meant for him. A light burst out from the tip, hitting one of the shelves before him. Severus shook his head.

"Ah, it is as I predicted. Perhaps you have outgrown the redwood, too," Ollivander replied, more so to himself than to Severus. And then he was headed back into the small room in the back of his shop, rummaging there momentarily before returning with another box. He did the same as before, watching Severus closely as he held the new wand in his hands.

This wand showed more promise. The second his skin came in contact with the handle, Severus felt a strange warmth that sent a jolt to his chest. He could feel the wand glued onto his hand as though by some unknown force, tying him close to it. He instantly felt a sense of protectiveness over the wand, as if he needed to make sure no harm befell it as it did his previous wand. When Ollivander nodded his head, urging him to test the wand out, Severus did so. He held it up in the air and felt a gust of wind blow through the store, the candles burning out all at the same time. And then, the wand began to buzz and from the tip, a small ball of light emerged. It separated from the tip when it had grown the size of a small flower, floating towards the smoking remains of the candle tops. As it touched each candle, a bright blue flame emerged from the darkness. It had been a beautiful bit of magic, both violent and gentle at the same time.

Ollivander clasped his hands together and let out a soft laugh.

"Wonderful! Wonderful!" he cried out.

"The wand chooses the wizard," Severus said to no one in particular, repeating a memory from so long ago.

"Precisely that, my boy!"

"This is not the same as the wand I had before?"

"That it is not, I'm afraid. This one is made of unicorn hair but the wood...blackthorn...yes, yes, I can see why the wand has chosen you..."

"Blackthorn? What is that-does that mean something?" Severus asked.

Ollivander gave a low chuckle. "Years ago, when you first came in here, I'd thought you were destined for a blackthorn wand...you looked the type. And yet, when you were given this very wand all those years ago, it rejected your ownership. An arrogant wand this was and here it is now, many, many years later-having chosen you as its owner with no hesitation. None at all."

"You...you gave me this wand? When I first came in here?"

"Yes," Ollivander said, nodding. "I suppose you hadn't been ready for it yet, then...it's certainly strange, isn't it? Perhaps it knew that it belonged to you but it was much too soon for you to have it just then."

"Wands can do that? They can decide when a person can have it?"

"You think I will tell lies?" Ollivander asked, brows crossed.

"It just...seems unlikely," Severus replied with a shrug. "You are sure this is the wand for me?"

"You hold it in your hand. You tell me, Severus Snape."

Severus glanced up at the mention of his name. He examined the wand once more. It was lengthy and supple; its texture dark and smooth so it gave him no trouble when he held it in his hands. It was so light that he barely felt it. He could also feel magic waiting to burst out, as if it was impatiently waiting to be used and commanded. It didn't feel as comfortable as his old wand but it seemed good enough to be used in battle. He would make do with this until he'd had the chance to go back to the Department of Mysteries and ask his wand to be returned.

"It's alright," Severus said. "How much?"

Ollivander gave him but a smile. "You've already paid for it. This wand has had your name on it for all this time, it wouldn't be right of me to charge it for you now. This wand is yours now."

"If you insist," Severus replied, tucking the wand carefully into his pocket.

Ollivander smiled once more.

With nothing left to be said, Severus turned towards the door. He was out by the doorway when Ollivander spoke once more.

"I think..." Ollivander said, peering at Severus from his seat that he'd taken once more. "I think I have done some final good here today. And for all the sins that I am bound to make...I only hope the services that you will extend by the wand that I have made may abolish the evil I will aid in."

Standing there rigid and stricken, Severus raised an eyebrow. "What's that supposed to mean?"

There was not another response to Ollivander. The old man continued to stare through Severus. Irked and puzzled by the eccentricity of the man, Severus turned to leave the wand shop without another word. When he stepped out, the rain had returned, bringing with it droning clouds and flashing lightning. A boy in a bicycle rode past with such speed that he would have hit Severus had he not swiftly stepped aside. The curse had rolled off Severus' tongue when he felt the prickling pain in his left forearm. With a sense of foreboding, Severus extracted his wand and disapparated from Diagon Alley and back to where Lord Voldemort waited.

Chapter Text

Flashback [two weeks ago]

The moment Severus' feet touched the ground below, he felt several arms grab at him and push him onto the ground. He obliged, grunting as his knees met with the hard surface. The next time he looked up, he was staring into the red, glowing eyes of the Dark Lord. He looked as snake-like as ever, the slit remains of his nose flaring as though in anger. Severus said nothing; he thought it best he remained quiet for the time being. He knew what would come and when it did, he would need his entire strength to fight it.

"Severus..." the Dark Lord hissed.

"My Lord," Severus returned with a slight bow. 

"Do you bring me any news from your master? Has he anything to say to me after our confrontation at the Ministry?"

Severus shook his head. "He has refused to see any of us, My Lord. Word has it he is shaken up by what happened at the Ministry."

Despite his convincing lie, he could feel the Dark Lord's piercing stare and the familiar rush as the other man entered his mind. Severus had enough practice by now to have retracted away any information about his true allegiance and allowed the falsified memories to surface his head now. As the Dark Lord peered through his thoughts, one in particular caught his interest. Severus watched as the Dark Lord lingered on the memory of him and Minerva posted out by the stone gargoyle that guarded the headmaster's office.

"Have you been to see him?" Severus asked in a distant voice.

"No," replied Minerva, shaking her head. "He won't let anyone inside-Poppy says he needed quite a bit of fixing up. He's a powerful man but at his age..."

The Dark Lord removed himself from Severus' head with a victorious grin. "So, Albus Dumbledore has finally acknowledged his mortality, then."

"Yes, My Lord," Severus said, attempting to stand but the hands holding him down exerted more pressure to keep him down.

"He was lucky to leave the Ministry alive that night...had I not spared him..."

Severus nodded. His lies had been effective. The Dark Lord now believed Dumbledore to have been severely weakened by their duel at the Ministry. If he let his guard drop, that would all it would take for Dumbledore to seal the Dark Lord's fate once and for all. But the Dark Lord was an intelligent man, sharp beyond anyone else Severus had met (except Dumbledore, of course). He wouldn't allow this to falter his movements. If anything, he would strike while he believed the headmaster to be at his wit's end.

"What of the boy?"

"He has boarded the train alongside the rest of the students after the end of the term feast, My Lord. I expect he has since arrived at his aunt and uncle's residence by now."

The Dark Lord began to pace. "I would have expected...with his dear godfather's passing...that Dumbledore would have passed the estate onto him. Had that been the case, we would have been able to have our hands on him by now."

Severus waited patiently for the Dark Lord to finish speaking. The way he spoke was as though Death Eaters had somehow secured Grimmauld Place and if that were the case, then the Order of the Phoenix's members who resided there for the time being could face an unexpected attack at any time. Not that he could do anything about it now, though. He just had to hope that the Dark Lord was simply leading him on to test a reaction out of him. Anything that would betray his position to him.

"I'm afraid that is not the case, My Lord. Dumbledore has always insisted that the boy be moved back to his Muggle guardians, though I cannot understand why. Surely they believe he would be safer where they can keep a watchful eye on him?"

"Dumbledore does not make empty decisions, Severus. You must know that by now...no, he has a good reason to keep that boy there in the Muggle world-away from everyone until he is of age."

The Dark Lord waved his arms and Severus felt the arms holding him down loosen their grip. As he turned, he saw unrecognizable faces of Death Eaters who removed themselves away from Severus and take several step backwards.

"You will leave us now."

Without uttering a word, the Death Eaters turned on their heels and walked a short mile away before Disapparating into the darkness. Severus finally allowed himself a brief moment to look around him. They were in a clearing somewhere in a forest, judging by the tall trees that surrounded them. He couldn't blame the Dark Lord for the paranoia; now that the entire wizarding world knew he was back, every witch and wizard would be on the lookout for him. The Ministry had already dispatched a dozen Aurors to search in all the places Dumbledore had asked them to look so the Dark Lord had no other option but to run.

"You know what has happened of Lucius Malfoy, I presume?"

He gave a short nod.

"Lucius Malfoy was an asset to me so very long ago. Very, very long ago. I admit since my return, his motivations had somehow been hampered...you've noticed it too, haven't you?"

Severus did not speak for a moment. He felt to say anything would be dangerous. Lucius had spoken up for him many times before and to betray him now felt abrasive, even if he wasn't around to hear it. Perhaps this was another of the Dark Lord's test, he thought, to see how loyal he was to anyone other than the Dark Lord. This could play out two ways; either he gained the complete trust of the Dark Lord or he proved himself a fallible servant of the Dark Lord.

"Yes," Severus said. "But to say that Lucius is the only man guilty of that would be unjust of me, My Lord."

The Dark Lord watched him carefully, nodding as he permitted Severus to continue.

"After you fell, we all scattered away to survive where we could, My Lord. Men like me who had known only devotion to you were left wandering for a new purpose which we could serve. I found mine, fortunately, at Hogwarts - the last place you had instructed me to be before it happened. I admit now that at the time, I was thinking of nothing more than saving my own skin as I begged Dumbledore not to send me away to Azkaban for my crimes. And just as how my reasons for staying at the school were selfish, so was Dumbledore's - he allowed me to stay there because he believed I would come in use years down the road. When I answered your call a year ago, My Lord, I had considered the thought of running away and leaving everything behind as Karkaroff had. Why would I throw everything away - the life I had built - when I could just as easily evade news of your return? But when I thought about it, I decided I couldn't do it. I couldn't leave all this behind...couldn't leave you behind...because all of this would not have happened if it were not for you, My Lord. My existence is owed to you. I could never run away from that."

"And Lucius? He was the same?"

"On the contrary, My Lord. All I had to lose was my life at the school; false friendships and made-up allegiances. Losing Dumbledore would not be a true loss, not to me. But Lucius...he had everything to lose. He had a life outside of you and me. He had a family; a wife he loved and a son he would sacrifice everything for. But the second you called, My Lord, he came running. He was weak, as all mortal men are. But he persevered. He strived to do nothing but serve you to the best of his abilities. I admit, his failures are nothing more than his own carelessness...but to say that his heart has not been devoted entirely to you would be a disservice to him, My Lord. He put you above all else, that much I know and that much I will not lie about. For all the man that I am, Lucius is ten times more."

Severus took a sharp gasp of breath, as though he waited for the Cruciatus Curse to strike him at any moment for his defiance. But it never came. Instead the Dark Lord tilted his head, thinking to himself.

"I see now what he saw in you, Severus," he said with a slight hiss in his voice.

"My Lord?"

"The unwavering faith that Lucius had in you...I always thought it to be unnatural and strange. After all, why would a man of his status and power go to extreme lengths to speak for a half-blood who decades ago laid at my feet, begging me to spare the life of a Mudblood? Even when you first joined me, I sensed your hesitation and disbelief in my cause...yet, Lucius assured me that you would grow out of that immaturity. Imagine my astonishment...my right-hand man, whom had never once disobeyed me, told me I had made a mistaken judgement when it came to you..."

The revelation of Lucius' defense for him built up a cold feeling in Severus' chest and he willed it to go away. He couldn't let his emotions get the best of him, though the betrayal he had caused Lucius was ringing loudly in his head now.

"But I see now. You have always been a loyal man, haven't you, Severus? Even now, when I have given you the opportunity to tear down Lucius' contributions to me, you still speak for rather than against him. It certainly is touching..."

"My loyalty to Lucius comes second only to my loyalty to you, My Lord."

The Dark Lord cackled harshly. "Save your pretty words, Severus...I am not angry with you. You have come to prove yourself over these past few months...I am somewhat impressed. Though, Bellatrix may be inclined to disagree..."

There it was again, Severus thought to himself. The Dark Lord was opening another conversation that involved yet one more of his loyal subject. Bellatrix Lestrange was one of his closest advisors (there were rumors that she was more than that, too) but she also despised Severus to the extent that she would not hesitate having him killed. It would be unwise of him to speak up for her, especially when everyone knew the animosity they held for each other.

Severus smiled. "A hard woman to impress."

"Indeed. Why do you think she distrusts you so, Severus?"

"I would think it fairly obvious, My Lord. As you said, I am nothing but a half-blood who somehow managed to make his way into your inner circle...and Bella has always made it clear that I am unworthy to be of such closeness to you. In short, I think she has convinced herself that blood is of more importance than anything else and seeing as that I am lacking in that particular department..."

He was careful to keep his tone light-hearted, as if he were amused by this bit of conversation.

"You would disagree with that? You think there are things more important than blood?"

"My apologies, My Lord, for I had not intended to be heard that way. Blood is, of course, important but so is one's skills and servitude to you. I consider myself worthy to be among the rest of the Death Eaters because of my loyalty to you, rather than the status of my blood."

"So she is mistaken?"

"I will allow you to be judge of that, My Lord. She was after all just as much as to blame for the disastrous failure at the Ministry."

"You think your being there would have made a difference?"

Severus did not answer.

"Tell me," the Dark Lord pressed, his eyes burning into Severus' own. "Had you been there, would you have brought me the prophecy?"

"Yes, My Lord."

"Very well, Severus," said the Dark Lord. "I will choose to take your word as the truth."

"Thank you, My Lord."

"But my word alone will not suffice, will it? You have been very outspoken about your devotion to me and it is high time you are rewarded for it. What say you, Severus?"

"I do not seek neither praises nor reward from you, My Lord. Instead, I will abide your commands and do as you order me to."

"Then obey me now, Severus. From this day onwards, I will mark you as my commander and right-hand man and together, we shall march our new order against Albus Dumbledore and his pathetic army. Together, we shall set ablaze their world until nothing but death and destruction remains."

"Then I shall do nothing else but that," said Severus with no hesitation in his voice. 

"Rise," said the Dark Lord.

Severus got to his feet, gazing into the Dark Lord's face. The other man grabbed Severus' left arm, tearing away the sleeve so his flesh was revealed. The branded Dark Mark stood against his skin, throbbing as if it had a life of its own. The Dark Lord conjured his wand as if out of thin air and pressed it against the Mark. Severus bit down on his tongue so as to not scream out from the sudden pain the movement brought. As the pain seared through him, the Dark Lord spoke.

"Here is your first command," he hissed. "Find the woman called Emmeline Vance and report back on her whereabouts."

"Emmeline Vance?" Severus asked, puzzled. "What do you seek from her, My Lord?"

"Payment."

Present time

Harry stood, back bent and hands on knees as he emptied the content of his stomach by the roadside. Apparition, or whatever it was that Snape had called it, had been the most awful feeling he had ever experienced. As Harry wiped his mouth on the back of his sleeve, he glanced upward to see Snape standing a short distance away. He had a very disgusted expression on his face as he regarded Harry.

"Haven't you ever Apparated before?" Snape asked with an incredulous expression, hands on hips now.

"Of course not," Harry replied bitingly. "I'm not old enough to do it, am I?"

Snape eyed him nastily before rolling his eyes. "You will be soon enough so get used to it, Potter. Follow me."

He snapped his finger rudely, striding towards the row of streetlights placed alongside the abandoned road they were at. Among all of them, there was only one whose light flickered about strangely. Snape walked towards that particular light and stopped to examine it. Satisfied with his examination, he turned once more to Harry.

"Portkey," he drawled. "I trust you've used this before?"

Harry thought of Cedric just then. "Yeah."

He didn't need to be taught how to use this. Without sparing Snape a second glance, Harry reached to touch the base of the street light and felt his body whirring as though it were being sucked into space. He saw something black flapping through the air and resisted the urge to crack a smile. Snape's coat must have come loose when he touched the Portkey, and was now whipping about through the air. As the colors and shapes around him began to take form of solid objects, Harry began to move through the air, slowly descending into the forming ground beneath his feet.

He bent down to pick up Snape's fallen coat.

"Leave it," said Snape from behind him. Harry turned to see his teacher had changed into his usual dark robes, the Muggle clothes lying in piles behind him. Snape waved his wand and they began to jumble into a large pile and vanish from view.

"Walk," he continued.

Harry looked around to see the familiar sight of Diagon Alley greet him.

"Why'd we have to take a Portkey to get here?"

"What?" Snape snapped.

"What I mean is...before-with the Weasleys, we'd just use the Floo powder to get here...it just seems a little unnecessary for us to take a Portkey here."

"You're aware the Dark Lord is back?"

"Yes."

"And you're aware that he wants you dead?"

"Yes."

"Which means that we have to take precautions to make sure that does not happen, hence the Portkey, Potter. Now, if you don't have any other brilliant questions, walk."

They had walked just a short distance before Harry turned once more to Snape. "Hang on, what if someone here recognizes us?"

"They won't. I've placed a charm on us that makes us unrecognizable in the crowd."

"Right. So where are we going?"

"I expect you'll know when we get there."

Harry cursed Snape under his breath. The man was not giving away anything. But being out here in public space reassured Harry somewhat that he wasn't in danger. If Snape wanted to attack Harry, he'd have done it earlier when they'd Apparated away from his aunt and uncle's house. Harry frowned, thinking about their interaction with Snape. When Harry had walked in on the middle of Snape and Aunt Petunia's conversation, the way they'd spoken to each other made it seem as though they'd known each other for a while. And then later, when Uncle Vernon had seen Snape, he'd exploded. His uncle despised wizards and witches but he'd always been afraid of them to certain degree. But with Snape, Uncle Vernon had been more upset than frightened. Harry recalled the way he had rushed out to strike Snape. He glanced towards the hook-nosed man who was walking alongside him now, his strangely-cut hair bouncing about his face with every step he took.

What if Snape had had some sort of history with Aunt Petunia? He felt sick once more at the thought that that would have ever happened. As implausible as it was, it did explain to a certain extent his aunt and uncle's strange behavior towards him.

"Do you know my aunt and uncle?" Harry blurted.

Snape stared at Harry with a mocking expression. "You know, Potter, you might be the first person to have lost their brains after a Side-Along Apparition. Not that there was much to begin with in the first place, anyways, but-"

"It's just," interrupted Harry. "I got the feeling you've met them before."

The silence appeared to confirm Harry's thoughts and it gave him the confidence to continue talking. "Especially...especially my Aunt Petunia."

Snape stopped in his tracks and turned to face Harry among the crowd of people that passed them by, his eyebrows scrunched together and mouth preparing for a vicious snarl.

"What are you insinuating, Potter?"

"I'm not insinuating anything, sir. I just want to know if you and her knew each other..."

Harry did not know where his sudden boldness came from. He knew that if they had been back at school, Snape would not have hesitated to take a hundred points off him or even throw him off the Astronomy Tower. As he watched, Snape's face flushed and turned various shades of colors. Before he could say anything, Harry's eyes caught sight of Ollivander's wand shop across from them.

"Isn't that Ollivanders?" he cried, pointing to the remains of the shop.

He broke into a run, stopping only when he reached the entrance. Out by the front was rubbles and pieces of the roof that had fallen through. As Harry peered through the broken glass windows, he saw the inside of the shop was at a far worse state. The shelves that were stacked with wands had been brought down as if by an external force and floors were full of broken wands lying about, abandoned and forgotten.

"Excuse me, sir," said Harry to an old man who was passing by the store. "What happened here? This-Ollivander-he-is he alright?"

"Shame, isn't it?" the man commented casually. "Happened a couple days ago, I think. The Daily Prophet said a couple Death Eaters had come in and tried to grab him. The fellow tried to fight him off but he couldn't hold against so many of them..."

"Didn't anyone try to stop them?" Harry asked.

"What could anyone do? If they stepped in, they'd have been killed..."

The man gave a light shrug and went on his way, leaving Harry there standing by the front of the ruined store.

"Potter!" Snape hissed somewhere behind him. "If you leave my sight without warning again..."

"Did you know about this?" Harry asked, turning to him. "About Ollivander?"

"Yes."

"Did they kill him?"

"How would I know, Potter?"

"Don't you?"

Snape fell silent again, watching Harry carefully. "You have no business knowing whether or not he is alive, Potter."

"Right. But whatever it is I am here for, you won't tell me."

"It was all explained in the letter...it's not my fault if you can't read-"

"-the letter said I had to go to St. Mungo's but we're here. Explain that to me, then."

"The woman who's supposed to be treating you, Potter, is here. That letter was just a front so your aunt and uncle wouldn't interfere when I moved you away from there."

"She's going to treat me here? I've hung around these parts plenty of times but I don't think I've ever seen a hospital of any sort-"

"You haven't because there isn't. I am unable to say any more because I am not allowed to. If you would just, for once, listen and do as I say, your questions will be answered."

Harry and Snape stared at each other, dislike painted clearly across both their faces.

"Right," said Harry. "Where, then?"

Snape pointed towards a deserted alleyway opposite Ollivander's shop. "In there."

Harry walked towards it, keeping an eye on Snape the entire time. As they went through the alley, they eventually reached a dead end. Snape pushed past Harry, tapping his wand against the wall that stood between them. As Harry watched, the bricks began to dance before him, moving away until a singular, wooden door emerged. This time, Snape led the way, pushing the door open as he went.

Harry stood there for a moment, assessing the possible danger he might encounter in there. Removing his wand from his robe and pointing it ahead of him, Harry pushed the door open and stepped inside.

Chapter Text

Flashback [two weeks ago]

The Hog's Head looked far worse than it had in years. There hadn't been too many visitors since the rising Death Eater attacks and news of the Dark Lord's return-not that the Hog's Head had ever been a popular option for the people here. The place drew the interest of strange characters, most of whom were there to take care of their private affairs without attracting any attention. Severus himself had only been in here twice before; once under the orders of the Dark Lord and the second was for an unfortunate Christmas eve with Minerva and Filius after The Three Broomsticks had been overrun by Doxies. Both experiences had been unpleasant enough that he'd hoped to never warrant another visit here again, though the note he'd received from Poppy stated otherwise. He spared another glance to the parchment in his hand:

Hog's Head. Ask for Julia.

He was still upset with Poppy from withholding the information about the Healer that had treated him. She was just looking out for him, he knew-but after years of having people make his decisions for him, he'd become sick of it. It was also the reason why he had yet to see Dumbledore about the Dark Lord summoning him the night before. They were all the same, he thought in resentment. Dumbledore and Poppy and Minerva and his mother; they all thought he was this person that could be saved, worth saving even. But the truth was that he wasn't. But this was neither the time nor the place to consider such things.

He murmured something under his breath and pushed against the flimsy door of the pub, peering inside with a distasteful look upon his face. There were a few people inside; only a man seated directly next to the door looked up at Severus. He adjusted his cloak so it covered his face and then turned his attention back to the small cauldrons out on the table. Severus let the door close behind him and walked straight towards the tall, bearded man in an apron behind the bar. The old man gave a loud grunt when he met eyes with Severus.

"You again," said Aberforth Dumbledore, putting down the glass he'd been scrubbing away at on the counter. "What do you want?"

Severus resisted the urge to say something unkind. "Actually-"

"-he's here for me, Abe."

Both Aberforth and Severus turned at the same time to the person that had spoken. A few meters away, a woman was seated at a table cleverly hidden away by the corner. Her face had a pink tinge to it and blonde hair that tumbled around her shoulders. She was smiling at the two men, hand raised as if to greet them politely. Aberforth gave another displeased grunt.

"What you doing with a bloke like him, Julie?" he asked as Severus frowned.

"Strictly work-related," replied the woman. "Care to take a seat?"

Severus threw Aberforth a dirty look before retracting from the scene. He turned smoothly, striding towards the blonde woman carefully as though he were trying to piece together who she was. Severus did not lose his eye contact with her, not even as he pulled a chair from the opposite table to sit across her. The woman, however, did not look too bothered by his rather intimidating stance. They sat there and waited for a few seconds to pass, just to see who would give out and speak first.

"Your name?" Severus asked.

"Julia Abbott. And you are Severus Snape?"

Severus nodded. And if by some invisible force, his hand carried itself so it hung in the air between the two of them. Abbott smiled before shaking his hand.

"I knew that of course…I don't know if you remember-and I wouldn't blame you if you didn't either...it was so very long ago-but we used to be at school together."

"Really?" he asked.

"I was two years ahead of you. Hufflepuff."

"I must apologize, Mrs-"

"Miss," she corrected quickly. "It's Miss, actually."

"Miss Abbott," he repeated. "But if you were two years older than me, and in Hufflepuff house, I'm not sure we would have met. My social circle only went so far when I was in school."

"I bet," she said. "But we did meet-before, I mean. I was one of the prefects who'd taken you and James Potter to see Madam Pomfrey after you got injured by the Whomping Willow."

Severus' lips turned downwards at the mention of the werewolf incident. At the time, Dumbledore had made Severus swear never to reveal the truth of Remus Lupin's nature to anyone. And to cover it up, the story that had been spread to the other students was that Severus had picked up all of his extensive injuries after trying to sneak down the tunnel by the Whomping Willow-injuries which, had it not been for Potter, would have proved fatal for him. Severus recalled the year with bitterness filling his mouth; while he'd spent two weeks healing his broken arm, Potter had been upheld as a hero when in fact he'd only saved Severus out of fear for what would've happened to Black.

"Caused quite a ruckus around school, the two of you did. I mean we all knew about the Gryffindor-Slytherin rivalry but to see Potter step up and rescue you, or however that story went anyway...it was just something you'd read about in books. Must have been horrible for you, though...I think almost everyone I knew hated your guts for nearly costing Gryffindor’s star Quidditch player his life.”

"I wasn't aware, Miss Abbott, that we were here to reminisce our school lives," Severus said sarcastically. “And Potter was nowhere close to losing his life at the time of the incident.”

Abbott smiled faintly as she sat back against her chair. "I apologize, Professor. I know you're a busy man....I suppose we should get right on with business..."

Wordlessly, she started to reach for something beneath the table as Severus watched her movements carefully. He'd marked her a dangerous woman even before he'd met her, though his impression on her had somewhat lost its ferocity after their conversation. She seemed nothing out of the ordinary, from the way she spoke to the way she behaved around him. If she was a spy of the Dark Lord, no doubt she'd have set off the warning bells Severus had - he was attuned to detecting when someone was lying and this woman had not yet done anything to earn his distrust. There was also the fact that Dumbledore and Poppy had shared information about him that if she had reported to the Dark Lord by now, would have guaranteed his immediate execution. She had seen his Dark Mark when she'd treated him from the Boggart, and she had known he'd been at the Ministry that night. Yet, when the Dark Lord had summoned him, he hadn't been made known to this particular information. All of the clues he'd gathered about this woman told him she didn't mean him harm, that perhaps she truly was here to help. Still, he couldn't afford to let his guard down-not until he was fully sure of it.

Abbott rummaged around for something and Severus shifted slightly. His subconscious triggered him into producing his wand, gripping and rolling it in the palm of his hand as he watched her with unease. She surfaced a moment later with a stack of papers, laying it gingerly across the table. She followed it up with a quill and an ink bottle she placed next to the papers.

"Poppy told me about your...situation," Abbott whispered, taking a shy glance towards Severus' left forearm. He pulled away from the table and folded his hands over his lap.

"And really," she continued in an assuring voice, "you have nothing to worry about."

With that, she pushed the quill, ink and paper towards him. Severus raised an eyebrow as he spared the papers a peek.

"Fidelity Papers?" he asked in an incredulous voice.

"Yes, they're still quite new-only Ministry workers have access to them thus far. Evelyn from the Department of Law Enforcement came up with the idea a few months back, really. Told us how she was assigned to deal with the case of an Auror and a couple of goblins the man had tricked. They'd been involved in Muggle fraud work...some wizard had sold them a piece of land belonging to a Muggle after wiping the poor man's memories. But his wife made a big show out of it at the police station, she'd even taken a picture of the wizard. An Auror was dispatched when the use of magic was detected on the Muggle man, you see, and this Auror tracked down the goblins that had purchased the land. In exchange for keeping the land, the goblins made a deal with the Auror to reveal the wizard's identity. And, well, they did but of course, the Ministry wouldn't let them keep the land-it still belonged to the Muggle man and his wife. When they brought up the deal they made with the Auror, all he had to do was deny it ever happened. So the goblins lost their money and the land."

"I expect the goblin community wouldn't have taken too kindly to that sort of treatment to their kind," Severus said.

"No, they didn't," Abbott replied with a sigh. "It was a hellish week for everyone involved. And Evelyn, well she nearly lost all her hair trying to come up with a solution that could put the goblins at ease. In the end, she handed them a pittance as compensation, which they only accepted after hearing the Auror would be terminated of his position."

"Got what he had coming, then."

"Yes," Abbott said with a nod. "Which brings us back to this. The Fidelity Papers. Designed after the Fidelius Charm, all you have to do is sign your name and I'll sign mine and whatever agreement we've made becomes the law. It'd be quite impossible to break the contract once we get our names down in here."

"Not to be the bearer of bad news," Severus said darkly, "but the Fidelius Charm is known to have failed in the past. Magic is magic, and the magic that surrounds the Fidelius Charm is highly flawed."

Abbott gave a small frown. "Ah, but it isn't magic that fails the Fidelius Charm. Magic doesn't betray us, only people. The charm isn't perfect because it's people who keep its secrets. But these," she said as she picked a piece of paper from the top of the stack and the ink, "these will remain a secret because it's ink on paper. Our word, once written down, is permanent and forever. Unlike our ever-changing natures and dispositions."

Severus plucked another paper from the stack, reading it without comment. It was a standard Ministry contract, he supposed.

"It says here I'm to attend twelve private sessions? Are these flexible?"

"Sorry, flexible in what sense, actually?" Abbott asked.

"In the sense that it may be reduced to...say, two sessions? Or three, perhaps?"

Abbott laughed, much to Severus' annoyance. "Sorry, it's twelve sessions or Azkaban."

"You'd send me to Azkaban for that?"

"Well, considering the circumstances of your injuries...refusing treatment could likely make you a danger to those around you."

"How so?"

"Sign the papers," she said, nudging the stack closer to him. "And I'll tell you all about it."

"Look now, Miss Abbott, I'm a very busy man-"

"-I'm quite aware of that, Professor Snape. Which is why it's specified that the treatments will be tailored to your schedule. And Professor Dumbledore has assured me himself that he'll allocate you spare time for this."

Severus groaned lightly, cursing Dumbledore under his breath. 

"So you're saying I don't have a choice? Is that it?"

Abbott smiled once more, but it was a little forced this time round. "Poppy was right. You do love being dramatic, don't you?"

"I beg your pardon?"

"Just listen to yourself!" she exclaimed, looking irritated now. "Here I am, and here Poppy is, trying to help you and you've just decided that we've all got it out for you! She said you were stubborn-headed, I see now that she wasn't just being unkind for no reason. I mean, anyone else in your position would've jumped at the opportunity to get help but you...do you think you're undeserving of help? Or do you distrust everyone so much you're willing to risk your life over it?"

"Risk my life? That Boggart attack happened days ago and I'm still alive!"

"Because I gave you the antidote! And I knew to give you the antidote because I've been studying it for years-and I've lost people...good people to it, too. And I don't intend to lose anyone else so if I tell you that you need these sessions, I wish you'd just trust me enough to do it!"

Abbott had raised her voice much too high. As Severus turned about, he noticed several of the people in the pub staring at the two of them.

"Fine," he hissed, pulling the stack towards him. "I'll sign the damned thing!"

The woman sat there with a contented expression as Severus began to dot his initials paper after paper. He'd show up to these sessions and be as unhelpful as ever, and there'll be a point where Abbott wouldn't be able to take it anymore and he'd be rid of her. She couldn't put up with him for too long, no one ever could. He sneered as he pushed the stack of papers back to her.

"Thank you," she said, watching his face flush. She took the quill from him and placed her signature below Severus' own, and as she did, the names began to glow faintly before disappearing from the paper.

"It's a Vanishing Spell. Just in case someone tries to get into the papers."

At least the Fidelity Papers guaranteed secrecy, he thought. As he watched, she shuffled the papers and piled them neatly. She bent over the table and produced a folder that had "St. Mungo's Classified" stamped across the front of it. She fitted the papers into the folder and snapped her fingers, vanishing it into thin air.

"If we're finished here..." he started.

"Of course. I know you're a busy man...wouldn't want to keep you. I'll let you know when the first session is...it'll probably be in a week or two. Just an initial assessment, nothing too rough...will that be alright?"

Severus grunted in response, standing up abruptly. "I'll be seeing you, then."

She tipped an imaginary hat, winking at him as he passed by her. Now that he'd gotten this over with, it was time to see Dumbledore and unleash his undirected anger at the old man next.

Chapter Text

[Flashback to two weeks ago]

Hogwarts always gave the image of an uninhabited castle whenever the holidays came round. Where students' shouts and cries would fill the air throughout the courtyard before, it was now just still silence with the occasional gusting of the winds blowing through the grounds. Despite its rather solemn state, Severus found it to be the most enjoyable time of his life. The students being away meant he didn't have to stalk the school day and night trying to make sure the students didn't do something life-threatening, which happened, for the worst part, more often than not. Though he supposed the Weasley twins would have taken along with them a majority of atrocious ideas and pranks in their leave of absence. And with Umbridge being retracted back to the Ministry and Potter safely kept away at his aunt and uncle's, he could be at a little more ease. Simply put, the only time he was allowed to be a free man was the few months the students were away during the summer break.

Even now, he took the time to stop by the grounds and inhale the sweet air around him. For just a brief moment, Severus allowed his thoughts to clear away and just enjoy the safety the castle provided him with. This moment lasted approximately a minute and a half before Severus' worry lines reappeared across his face. A singular name was stretched out in the front of his mind now, rendering him incapable of feeling anything but worry and distraught. The Dark Lord had asked for Emmeline Vance, and Severus knew his master would not stop until he had her. Though the question begged what it was he wanted with her, Severus knew it was far more important to hide her away first.

The stone gargoyle guarding Dumbledore's office had become so accustomed to seeing Severus that it no longer bothered to have him call out the password, whatever ridiculous password Dumbledore had set him with this time. As it jumped aside to reveal the staircase, Severus muttered thanks and made on his way. At first glance, it seemed Dumbledore was not in his office. Severus leaned towards the entrance to the room and spotted the headmaster hunched over his pensive by the corner of his office, the emitting light from it casting a rather mysterious glow over his form.

"Should I come back?" Severus called.

Almost immediately, Dumbledore removed himself from the pensive. He looked old and weary; perhaps the Dark Lord had been right, the battle at the Ministry had taken a heavy toll on his health. Severus reached Dumbledore in quick strides, offering the other man his arm. Dumbledore took it without hesitation and allowed Severus to guide him back to his desk. When he sat, he took a deep breath and closed his eyes. Severus took the seat opposite him and simply waited for him to speak.

"You've been gone for a while," Dumbledore said finally. "I was worried."

"I am not your child for you to worry after," Severus replied, looking away.

"You must forgive an old man and his sentimentalities," said Dumbledore. "But I find I have grown to see you, as I do many others, as a child of mine, nonetheless."

Severus snorted loudly but he could not stop the redness spreading across his cheeks. "What have you been up to, then?"

"Ah, I'm afraid I'm not at liberty to discuss that yet."

"With me, you mean," Severus replied scathingly. "But you will discuss it with other Order members."

Dumbledore shook his head and raised his eyebrows. "Whatever do you mean?"

"Do you deny that you share information with them that which you keep from me?"

"Severus..."

Severus let out a triumphant noise. "What else do you tell them that you do not tell me?"

"I have said this many times. There is no one in this life or the next that I trust more than I trust you. With that said, I must be careful of the information that I share with-"

"-because I'm a Death Eater? Because you're scared I might let it slip to the Dark Lord should I feel my life is threatened? Because you-"

The headmaster exhaled quite loudly just then, interrupting Severus before he was finished. He leaned towards Severus' face, his hands crossed casually on the table before him.

"I sense there is something bothering you in this very moment. So, by all means, Severus...do tell...what it is you are unsatisfied with."

"Oh, I'll tell you, alright! When were you going to tell me that you knew that it was Black's house-elf that betrayed us all? Do you know how humiliating it was to learn that everyone else knew before I did? Do you realize how this made me look in front of them? Dumbledore's supposed right-hand man who he trusts only to his dirty work for him! Do you have any idea what they think of me? Lupin thinks it's my fault that Black was killed! My fault! When the only reason I was there was to protect Potter! And then hours later I find out you sell me off to some Healer! You'll spare me some free time for her little experiments, will you, Dumbledore? You have taken advantage of me and I refuse to stand for this!"

The portrait of Phineas Nigellus gave an affronted noise at Severus' outburst. The other portraits murmured in dissatisfaction at Dumbledore's tolerance towards Severus.

"I did not tell you about the house-elf, Severus, because I believed you had already figured that out for yourself. The others are not as involved in the plot as you are, so I must provide them with information that I do not provide you with. Do you understand?"

Severus snorted loudly. "Flattery will get you nowhere, Dumbledore!"

"On the contrary," said Dumbledore with a smile. "Though there is one thing that bothers me about Kreacher."

"The elf?" Severus quizzed.

"Indeed. Do you believe the house-elf capable of betraying his master all on his own?"

Severus fell silent now. Did Dumbledore know that Narcissa and Bellatrix had been involved in this? Lucius was already in Azkaban, he knew the Aurors would not hesitate to put chains around Narcissa if she too were found responsible for the death of Sirius Black. They would rather take her than Bellatrix, who no doubt would have hidden herself away alongside the Dark Lord by now. No, it would be far easier to take Narcissa than her sister.

"Perhaps...he had help," he replied at last.

"But who would be able to coerce such an unloved creature to do their bidding? Voldemort does not take kindly to house-elves and it would be below him to so much as speak to him, so that takes him out of the question. Lucius Malfoy, perhaps, but once again-judging from the way he has treated Dobby in the past, it seems unlikely that he would have convinced the elf to so blatantly betray Sirius."

"He could have," Severus retorted. "All he'd have to do is command the elf and he'd do it!"

"The magic that binds wizards and witches to house-elves are ancient, Severus. Simply ordering the elf to betray his master is not something that can be so easily done, no."

"Perhaps Bellatrix then," replied Severus. "She is a manipulative witch, after all. Do you not think she is capable of doing so?"

"She is more than likely the culprit," said the headmaster. "But you did not hear the way Kreacher spoke of his mysterious master. There was so much love and care in the way the elf spoke of her...it is impossible that Bellatrix Lestrange would have been capable of showing such emotion to Kreacher. She is, after all, like Voldemort, a blood purist - they are neither capable nor willing to stoop to anyone else below them. And that leaves only one other person: Narcissa Malfoy."

Severus was more than aware how stony-faced he had become. He had unknowingly brought a shield around him, tucking memories of Narcissa and him behind pockets of his mind and hiding them away as though he were afraid Dumbledore would invade upon them at any moment. He was quite still for a moment before realizing that his lack of response had undoubtedly given him away. His eyes flickered towards the watchful gaze of Albus Dumbledore.

"Is that so?" Severus asked, appearing cool and calm now. "Did the elf tell you it was her?"

"He needn't have had to. The answer was quite clearly written across his face as it is upon yours in this very moment, though I could hardly blame either of you. Narcissa Malfoy is an incredibly charming woman..."

Severus felt his face flush. "What are you implying?"

Dumbledore gave a light chuckle. "I am implying nothing, Severus. Rather, take my words now as caution, Severus. Desire and love is as much of a necessity to us as is air and life, but do not forget that we are still men; you must not fall victim to love just because it moves your soul and goads your thoughts. If you must love, Severus, then love in a way that is good and kind and right."

"There is nothing going on between Narcissa Malfoy and I. Nothing."

"If that is what you wish to believe, then so be it."

There was an awkward silence in the air between them until Severus cleared his throat.

"Are you going to report her to the Ministry?" he asked softly.

"Would you deny she had no part in Sirius' death?"

"Yes, I would," he said, staring unfazed at Dumbledore.

The old man did not speak for a while.

"You say there is nothing between the two of you yet you contest her accountability in another man's murder as though your life depended upon it."

"I am doing it for Lucius. I promised him no harm shall befall neither his wife nor child and I intend to keep my word. Just as I have kept it for you."

"Your loyalty is unquestionable, Severus. It is one of the many things I admire about you...so be it, then. I shall keep Narcissa Malfoy's name out of this entire ordeal to save her and Draco Malfoy what little pride and dignity they have left. But I daresay there will come a time when even I cannot put aside that family's involvement with the Dark Lord and when it comes, Severus, I want your word that you will not falter from our cause for their sake."

He nodded stiffly. "My loyalty comes first and foremost to you."

"Not to me," replied Dumbledore with concern. "But to the Order, Severus. And to Harry."

Another jerk of his head to agree with the headmaster. 

"What else...oh yes, there is the matter of Healer Abbott that you wish to discuss with me?" Dumbledore asked, setting Severus on his path of rage once more.

"You signed away approval for her little experiments?"

"If you would call it that...I rather see it as a way of helping you mend, Severus."

"I am not broken."

Dumbledore smiled, eyes closing. Severus thought he'd fallen asleep and was about to jolt him awake when Dumbledore opened his eyes once more.

"People are never broken," Dumbledore said, the corner of his eyes crinkling. "But sometimes people are never entirely whole, either. Parts of them have crumbled because of the things they have been put through. And you have been put through so much, Severus. The ordeals you have been through has left you in need of repair, yes, but it doesn't meant you are broken."

Severus leaned in. "And you think magic will fix that? Fix me?" he asked in disbelief.

"Not fix but heal. And it will take something far stronger than magic to heal you."

"Which is what exactly? Love?" Severus asked jeeringly.

"I daresay you'll find out soon enough. Miss Abbott has already written to me to say your paperwork has been taken care of. She has asked for my bond as well for the Fidelity Papers...an extra assurance that if someone were to gain access, they wouldn't be able to read the contents unless they, by some miracle, attained my signature as well. She is very thorough with her work, Severus. My only hope is you do not let her work go to waste."

"I'll do my best not to," he said sarcastically.

"Well, if there's anything else we ought to discuss before we call it a day-?"

Severus nodded grimly. "Emmeline Vance. The Dark Lord has asked for her whereabouts. It is my belief that he intends to be rid of her."

"Emmeline Vance," Dumbledore repeated. "He did not tell you why he is after this woman?"

"No," Severus replied with a shake of his head. "We should move her someplace else. Give the Dark Lord her current address so he does not suspect me, either. Do you disagree?"

The headmaster was deep in thought, considering possible alternatives that would guarantee both Vance's and Severus' safety, no doubt. In the end, he gave a nod of his head.

"I suppose that is the best way out for us. We must act with haste, then. I shall write to her immediately...perhaps we shall have to hide her using the Fidelius Charm..."

As he spoke, Dumbledore clapped his hand and a brief parchment appeared before him. He thrust it into Severus' hand along with a magic quill, making him write down Vance's residing address. When it was done, he warned Severus to reveal it to the Dark Lord in three day's time to avoid any suspicion on the other side. Getting the address much too quick to him would alert the Dark Lord; there was no way Severus would have been able to breach Dumbledore's office and retrieve such personal information in a short length of time. And three days would be plenty time to relocate Vance someplace safe.

"I shall return if there is news," Severus said, standing. He took a glance towards the pensive that shimmered about in the corner of the room and back to the tired-looking Dumbledore in his seat. "Are you sure you will be alright?"

"I will be, Severus," said Dumbledore with a kind smile. "You will take care of yourself, I hope?"

Severus nodded.

Chapter Text

[Flashback to one week ago]

Vance was dead.

Severus swallowed the lump in his throat and continued to stare into the eyes of the man he had once regarded his master. His knees dug into the cold earth of the forest and yet Severus' gaze did not falter once. Not when the Dark Lord told him that the information he had given him had directly led him to the residence of  Emmeline Vance. And not when the Dark Lord had told him how he had found her waiting there, almost as if she had been expecting-preparing, was the word he had used-for an attack. Severus had more than anticipated for the Dark Lord to summon him; he had warned Dumbledore to move Vance to safety and knew that if she were to get away, Severus would be the only suspect of her escape. He had been preparing himself for the past three days to stand before the Dark Lord and be accused of treachery for what felt like the hundredth time. He had been busy, of course, wiling away his hours at Spinner's End, filling his head with falsified memories of breaking into Dumbledore's office to steal information about where Vance had lived. Though he knew it would be of little help to him. The Dark Lord had wanted her so desperately that if he were to lose her, the only price that could be paid was with Severus' own for allowing her to flee.

And yet, despite all of the risks he had taken to make sure no harm came to her, the Dark Lord had found her. And he had killed her, too. If there was anything he regretted in what was surely to be his final moment on this earth, then it would be that he wasn't able to save her. He had trusted Dumbledore enough to have kept her safe, and had been let down once more. He felt a metallic grip on his shoulder and as Severus looked up, he saw Peter Pettigrew staring down at him with a nasty smirk on his face.

"Stand," the Dark Lord said.

Pettigrew fixed another grip on Severus' other shoulder and pulled him on his feet.

"You have done me a service today, Severus," hissed the Dark Lord, the corner of his lips twitching strangely.

"I am yours to command, My Lord. Though, I must apologize for the utter chaos that must have come from your battle with Vance-"

"It was nothing more than an inconvenience. She was a powerful witch, more than you but less so than a man such as I."

An inconvenience. This woman had had a whole life ahead of her; she had a family who loved and cared for her, who expected to see her round for dinner. And now, because of the man that stood before him now, she wouldn't. And to him, her death had been nothing more than an inconvenience. Severus paled and felt sick for a passing moment.

"Had she not been on alert of my arrival, things would have ended far more quickly...had you been more careful with your spying...I suspect Dumbledore is behind this. He must have had protective enchantments around the files he keeps. Your carelessness almost cost us, Severus."

Severus offered a bow. "If My Lord believes I am to be punished for this, I am willing to accept it."

"I ought to," the Dark Lord said, eyes blazing all of a sudden.

Severus closed his eyes, expecting for a vicious blow of the Cruciatus Curse. He braced for the pain but it did not come.

"But I shan't. You did exactly as I have asked of you, no matter how flawed your plan may have been. No, rather than punish you-I shall reward you instead, Severus. I have prepared for you two gifts as a sign of my gratitude. Do you accept?"

Every part of Severus was screaming at him to run. To flee. To Disapparate to Hogwarts while he could. But he knew these options were futile. The minute he so much as made a movement, either the Dark Lord or Pettigrew would strike him down. He had no other choice but to face the Dark Lord.

"It would be an honor, My Lord."

The Dark Lord smiled sinisterly and waved his arm.

"My first gift to my right hand man," he announced, ushering to Severus. "I shall grant you a servant of your own. From here onwards, Wormtail here shall serve you with as much loyalty and devotion he has shown me these past years."

Pettigrew gave a small squeak next to him. It was obvious the rat hadn't expected this news.

"Thank you, My Lord," Severus replied with another bow. "But I fear his skills may be put to waste in my services. I am away at the castle all year and it would certainly be suspicious if any student or staff were to walk into my office to find a once-dead man there. And in my vicinities, nonetheless. Does My Lord not fear Dumbledore might suspect something if I were to bring him there?"

"You will keep him with you," the Dark Lord replied. "Until the term resumes, you will not return to the castle. I shall require your presence more often than not here onwards...and I would much rather you do it without Dumbledore knowing...it is crucial he remains in the dark of my movements until the year ends. You will cease contact with him unless I ask for for it, is that understood?"

"As you wish, My Lord. I shall take Wormtail with me to my house at Spinner's End-it is quiet and hidden away there. But I have not been there for several years, My Lord. If you allow it, I would ask for a day or two to ensure it is safe to transport him there. And there is also the matter of gaining approval from Dumbledore to stay there...at least until the term begins."

The Dark Lord gave a brief nod. "I will grant you three days time-the same amount it had taken you to deliver what I last asked from you. I trust you will have your affairs in order by then."

"It is more than enough, My Lord."

"But-My Lord-" Wormtail protested, pushing past Severus. "I-I want to serve you-please, Master, please-let me remain here by your side!"

Severus smirked, his face filled with utmost loathing for the vermin that was on his knees before the Dark Lord. He had begun to grab at the hem of the Dark Lord's robes, sniveling and wailing about like a spoiled child.

"And what will you do, Wormtail? Fight alongside my Death Eaters? Are you strong enough to take down Aurors? Perhaps I shall assign you the task of being rid of men like Alastor Moody? What say you, Wormtail-? Do this and you shall remain by my side until I am victorious. Will you do it?" the Dark Lord asked coldly.

Pettigrew's sniffles grew louder as he looked up into the seething face of his master. He had quieted down significantly since the mention of Moody's name and Severus had the feeling that Pettigrew would rather be kissed by a Dementor than even face the man himself. Much to his dismay, he discovered that his guess had been right.

"I...I will go-I will go with Snape-as you have asked-M-Master," whispered Pettigrew sullenly.

The Dark Lord gave a harsh laugh, sweeping away from Pettigrew. "Remain here while I walk with Severus, Wormtail. I want to have a word with you after."

Severus did not wait for the Dark Lord to call him. The two began to walk in silence deeper and deeper into the forest. It was getting dark and the only thing Severus could make out was the tall, pointy branches of the trees looping around one another-painting a rather haunting picture. Fear gripped in his heart as they moved deeper still, his hand feeling about for the wand in his robe pocket. He clutched it tightly and felt warmth emanating from it, and it gave him a strange sense of hope and comfort. It was all he had to hold on to as he continued to follow the Dark Lord.

Eventually, they reached another clearing but it was evident that someone had cleared it out by magic. Trees had been blasted apart so only hollow trunks remained, rooted onto the ground like corpses in a battlefield. There was a lone hooded figure standing there and it was only when the Dark Lord had clapped his hands and conjured a thin ball of light did Severus catch sight of a pale face and blonde hair.

"You are familiar with our guest," the Dark Lord muttered as he stopped before the cloaked boy.

"Draco," Severus said softly. "Has something happened, My Lord?"

"What has happened," said the Dark Lord in a high voice, "is that Lucius Malfoy's only son and heir has come to amend the mistakes of his father. It is rather touching, really. I was approached by the boy only two nights ago...he had arrived here alongside Bellatrix and had begged for me to hear him out. He was devastated about the failures of his father-he came to ask for a way to make up for what Lucius failed to do."

Severus glanced over at Draco. The boy looked positively dreadful. His long, pointy face looked as though it had been hollowed out. His eyes were red and his skin pale as though all the blood had been drained from him. He was trembling, though whether it was out of fright or the chill he did not know. Draco was looking straight at the Dark Lord, as though he was pretending he could not see Severus' concern over him. 

"What say you, Severus?"

"My Lord?"

"Do you think it fair to give the boy what he demands? Should we allow him into our folds-? Perhaps you could make use of the boy in your own role as a spy?"

Severus was entirely certain of the mockery in the Dark Lord's voice. The Dark Lord was no fool; the only reason Draco had sought him out was so he could secure safety for him and his mother. With his father locked away in Azkaban, the Malfoys' faced threats from the Order, the Ministry and the Dark Lord. With almost every army seeking retribution or vengeance on them, the only way for Draco to save him and Narcissa would be if he was accepted as one of the Death Eaters. The boy had been clever enough to figure out this much, though he had failed to think about what the consequences of such a request would bring to him and his family. Narcissa would be destroyed if she knew her boy was out here at the doorstep of Death itself, awaiting judgement from the reaper for a fate Lucius had sealed him with.

"I will do as you ask, My Lord. If My Lord wishes for him to be placed under my wing-"

"-that was not the question I asked, Severus."

The silence bit Severus like a sharp knife through skin and meat. What was he supposed to say? If he said no, Draco Malfoy would be saved from being one of the damned. But that would also mean the Dark Lord believe the boy as weak and vulnerable. He was already angry at Lucius for losing the prophecy. Severus shuddered to think what he would do to Draco if Severus declared him unfit to be a Death Eater.

"He is intelligent. And a capable duelist, My Lord. I believe he will be of use to us."

At this, the Dark Lord turned to Draco once more. "Well, Draco? Your Professor sees you fit to join us, after all..."

Draco bowed, lips twitching as though he was about to burst out crying. "Allow me to join you, My Lord. I will right the wrongs of my father...I swear-"

"Kneel."

The boy was down on his knees in an instant as the Dark Lord swiped his wand at the air. He began to tremble as the Dark Lord began to circle him, like a predator would a prey before it pounced.

"Your left hand, boy," the Dark Lord commanded. Draco looked up, hesitating.

Severus strode forwards and grabbed at Draco's arm, pulling apart the sleeve of his shirt so roughly that it tore. A small whimper escaped the boy's lips but Severus shushed him with a harsh tone. He raised Draco's left arm, offering it to the Dark Lord.

"For the sins of your father, your punishment is death."

"M-my Lord!" Draco cried out, tears streaking down his cheeks.

"But tonight, I shall show my people of how merciful and forgiving I am. Tonight, Draco Malfoy, I shall allow you to restore faith in the Malfoy bloodline. I will grant you the privilege to pledge your soul to me and in return, I will spare you your execution. Tonight, the world will know and fear yet another servant of mine. Rise, Draco Malfoy. Rise from the depths of misery and ascend to the glorious path of revolution by my side. Will you rise, boy?"

"I-I will."

And as Severus watched, the Dark Lord tapped at Draco's forearm. There was a bloodcurdling scream that filled the air and Severus forced himself to stare at the boy writhing in pain. The Dark Lord maintained his grasp on Draco's arm, jeering and laughing as his wand branded the Dark Mark against his white skin. An ugly red weal stained through his skin and moments later black ink flowed through it, shaping the looping of the snake through a crude image of a skull. The Dark Lord released Draco's arm and the boy fell to the ground, shaking and crumbling with what surely must be regret. He knew, because he had been the same way after he had received his Mark.

Severus bent over the boy's fallen form, gently laying an arm on his back.

"Come," he said as gently and kindly as he could. "Stand, Draco. Face your Master."

"Don't touch me!" Draco screamed in rage and Severus moved back, getting to his feet.

The Dark Lord chuckled. "He is a fiery one. Come, Draco. Face me as a new man I have forged you to be."

Draco's legs shook as he did his best to stand up. His eyes were on the Mark against his skin, staring intently as though he was trying to remember what it looked like before. A second passed before he looked up at the Dark Lord once more.

"How do you feel?"

"I am ready to serve," the boy said almost lifelessly.

"You see, Severus? I have only just marked him and already he is so desperate to prove himself! Just like his father, isn't he?"

"No," Draco whispered. "I am my own man, My Lord. Please-please, My Lord-tell me what I must do!"

"Very well, Draco," said the Dark Lord. "Your first task shall be one which I have only set one other man with. It is a task I thrust upon only those whom I believe may be able to complete it, though it has yet to be fulfilled."

Severus felt his stomach churn as the Dark Lord turned to him now. 

"You must remember it very clearly, Severus," he hissed. "You have been working nearly all of your life for it. And now, that happy task shall fall on the shoulders of our newest recruit."

There was nothing Severus could say in that very moment. It was as though he were being waken up from a nightmare only to discover that he hadn't been dreaming of it at all. He felt cold and empty as his gaze lingered over Draco's figure.

"For your first mission, Draco, you will kill Albus Dumbledore."

Draco's head turned sharply-not to the Dark Lord-but to Severus. His expression was brief and faltering, but Severus had seen it. The boy had looked frightened and his first instinct had been to look to him for help. Upon realizing that there was nothing Severus could do, Draco faced the Dark Lord once more. He went through about half a dozen thoughts before he finally gave a defeated bow.

"Yes, My Lord," said Draco Malfoy.

"I will give you a year," said the Dark Lord calmly. "If you fail, you will pay me in blood. Either yours or your mother's. Perhaps both."

It was not a question. Draco nodded, face paling once more.

"Now, go. I must speak to Severus alone."

Severus watched as Draco made towards the other end of the forest, his head hung as he walked. The two other men stood there, staring at him until he disapparated back. 

"My Lord," Severus began. "Do you think the boy is capable of such a task-? I only mean...when I myself have failed..."

"You did not fail," said the Dark Lord. "Not yet, at least."

"What do you mean, My Lord?"

"I promised you two gifts, did I not, Severus? Now, it is time I revealed to you my other gift. I shall finally give you what you have been after all this time: Albus Dumbledore."

"My Lord?"

"The boy will not succeed. He may be strong-headed but the only reason he has come before me today is to save his own skin. But you, Severus, you have grown to become quite the accomplished wizard. I have seen all that you have endured while in my service and I shall give you this prize that you have sought after at last. When the boy fails, and he surely will, it will come down to you to tie up all of the loose ends."

"My Lord..." said Severus, blanching.

"If Draco Malfoy fails to fulfil his mission...then you, Severus, shall be the one to kill Albus Dumbledore."

Chapter Text

"Do you really take me for that big of a fool, Dumbledore? I fell for this once-I won't do it again!"

Severus was panting heavily, his fist buried in the stack of papers lying about the desk in front of him. He was standing there, hunched over in Dumbledore's study as the old man observed him with a look of utmost curiosity and sympathy. Dumbledore gently reached over to remove his half-moon shaped spectacles with slightly trembling fingers before looking up into Severus' rather distressed face. There was something nostalgic in the argument they were having now, thought Dumbledore. He had faced the exact same situation with Severus almost a decade ago. Of course, that time had been just slightly different. The woman Severus had argued about had been someone he knew back then, someone he'd loved dearly. This time it had only been someone he'd known by extension, yet the grief that gripped the hook-nosed man was just as real as it had been when he'd heard of Lily Potter's death all those years ago.

"Wars have casualties, Severus," Dumbledore said calmly. "I'm sure I don't have to remind you of that."

The younger man went through a multitude of emotions just then and it was utterly fascinating to see. It was not often one got to break through the stark mask of Severus Snape, and it was often a kind reminder to Dumbledore at just exactly how human he truly was. Though he pretended otherwise, Severus was capable of such complex emotions that not many other wizards and witches possessed. One of his exceedingly remarkable traits, Dumbledore thought.

"You-don't-I warned you!" he cried, shrinking a little. "I warned you that he wanted her! I asked you to keep her safe! She was supposed to have been moved away from there-!"

"Please," Dumbledore implored. "Sit down, Severus. I will discuss with you whatever it is you wish to but only if you sit down."

As he spoke, he ushered towards the chair that the Potions professor had pushed aside earlier. Begrudgingly, Severus obeyed him. He slumped into the chair and buried his hands into his hair, tugging at it with such fervor Dumbledore thought it would come apart.

"Why didn't you move her, Dumbledore? You could have saved her! Now she's-she's dead-and it's my fault-"

"Emmeline Vance's death is neither your fault nor mine, Severus. I am a man of my word and just as we agreed, I had called upon her to warn her about Lord Voldemort's pressing interest in her. Two nights before she was murdered, I offered her a hideout that would have guaranteed her survival just as I had promised you."

Severus lifted his head. "Then how? How is she dead? The Dark Lord said she was home! Home! When she should have been miles away!"

Dumbledore shook his head. "She refused my offer, Severus."

"Why would she do that? Why would anyone on their right mind stay in their home when they knew the Dark Lord would be coming for them? She must have a death wish, surely-?"

"She had information, Severus. That would be the only reason Voldemort would come looking for her. She had answers to something he did not want anyone to know. His mistake, had been, of course, that he trusted you enough that you were able to tip me on it."

The other man seemed to have picked interest over this piece of news. Severus leaned towards Dumbledore rather eagerly now, black eyes searching the blue pair for whatever new thing he could learn about this puzzle. Dumbledore knew he was trying to put together every piece so he could understand why this woman died.

"Information," Severus repeated. "Like what?"

Dumbledore hesitated for a moment, wondering if it was safe to let loose what was meant to be a secret between him and Emmeline. But he decided he could, for the most part, let slip unimportant details. Just enough to keep Severus interested to stay around for the rest of the conversation.

"Voldemort's past. Unbeknownst to me, she had been holding onto a crucial piece of detail that will lend a hand to us in the future."

"His past?" asked Severus curiously. "What does his past have to do with anything? How will that help us in the war?"

Dumbledore smiled. "Our past is everything, Severus. Without it, we wouldn't be where we are now, would we? The information Vance lent to me will play a larger role in the future, I assure you. Her death will not be in vain in the end."

"But was her death necessary in the first place, Dumbledore?"

"She believed herself capable enough to take him on. You must believe me, Severus...I tried all I could to persuade her to do otherwise but she'd already made her mind up."

"But why? Why would anyone willingly surrender themselves to the Dark Lord? Does she have no fear of death?"

"Do not take her so lightly, Severus," Dumbledore replied sternly. He recalled the fiery spirit of the woman as she insisted he leave her home without her. "She'd have fought. She must have. A woman like her surely would have.”

”You’re evading,” Severus replied pointedly. "Why?"

”Guilt,” Dumbledore said finally. “It was guilt that drove Emmeline to do what she did.”

”Guilt,” Severus repeated slowly. “What could she have to feel guilty about?”

”Emmeline’s parents were purebloods and they were-or had been for a long time-devoted to Voldemort's cause. Blood purists at heart, they believed that cleansing the world of Muggles and Muggleborns was the best way to ensure the survival of their kind. Even back then, many purebloods were marrying into non-magic families. The threat of extinction drove her parents to submit themselves to the Dark Lord.”

Severus shook his head. "But Vance was in the Order-"

"-to make up for the sins of her family, yes. But that does not entirely erase the dark deeds they have done in the past."

"But this is ridiculous! If she was one of us, then she fought against everything her family stood for-she had nothing to be guilty about!"

"Until recently, Emmeline had been protecting a particularly significant secret of Voldemort. A secret that had been passed from her parents..."

As Dumbledore watched, there was a new glint in Severus' eye. The man's mind was openly working out whatever he had been given, trying to digest and make sense of what he could. Dumbledore found he could not blame him. Severus, despite how he carried himself in the eyes of others, had always been  overemotional. Though he could be overcome by bitterness and contempt most of the times, the man had a desperate urge to save all those around him. When the Diggory boy died, Severus had been in utter remorse for not having predicted the tragedy. Even now, he was trying to make sense of Emmeline's death, trying to understand the choices she had made.

"Emmeline's father worked in the records department of the Ministry...upon Voldemort's demands prior to first war, he had requested for a single file to be removed from existence. The one belonging to Tom Marvolo Riddle."

"He wanted to get rid of his files in the Ministry? But why? At that point, almost everyone knew who he was...and he was already referring to himself as the Dark Lord...what need would he have-? Unless...unless there was something in the files that could be used against him...?"

"Precisely!" Dumbledore said, getting to his feet. He walked briskly towards the window, staring out at the forlorn grounds outside. "He did not want anyone-not the Death Eaters or anyone else, for that matter-to know his origins. To know that he was a half-blood wizard born to a Muggle and a Squib mother."

He allowed Severus a moment to process this information, the entire time watching the moonlight paint a small trail of light over the grass.

"The Dark Lord...is a half-blood?"

Dumbledore turned abruptly. "Do you see now, Severus? If anyone else were to find this out, his entire cause would have been compromised! Imagine how many pureblood families relied on him maintaining their bloodlines...imagine if they were to find out that they had placed the survival of their kind on a man whose own father was a Muggle and whose mother's magic was less than mundane..."

"But how does knowing that help us? I hardly think declaring him a fraud now is going to make him withdraw from this war," Severus said dryly and Dumbledore afforded him a chuckle.

"Certainly not...but we do have an idea of who he is. By handing us his records, Emmeline has unknowingly helped me unlock a particularly important location to Voldemort...there is still plenty of work left to be done, of course, but she has provided us with a start."

"I still don't understand."

"What is it you do not understand?" Dumbledore asked patiently.

"Vance. Everything she has done seems to have been of help to us...I still don't see what she had to be guilty about."

"Ah," replied Dumbledore as he finally turned to regard Severus. "You see, after Robert Vance stole Voldemort's records from the Ministry, he learned the truth before anyone else. He later confronted Voldemort with this news and threatened to expose him for his lies...he was killed shortly after, by Voldemort himself I suspect. But it had been too late...Emmeline's father had already revealed this information to his wife and ordered her to hide it. Unbeknownst to Voldemort, Addison Vance locked it away along with her young daughter, Emmeline. Addison was hunted down shortly after her husband, leaving Emmeline to be cared for by her relatives. For all this time, Emmeline had been holding onto this particular record. She felt guilty for withholding this information, guilty for knowing her parents had died because of Voldemort and she had done nothing to avenge them."

"So it isn't about guilt. It's about vengeance."

"If you choose to see it that way, I will not stand in your way. But I implore you to understand and empathize with her, Severus. She was torn-her parents hadn't exactly been good people but it also didn't erase the fact that they had been good parents to her. Their mistakes haunted her...if she had given away details of the record much sooner, she'd have avenged their deaths but she'd also have exposed her parents' in the process. Certainly, she wanted vengeance, but it was also about protecting what little love she had left of her parents. When I asked her why he would ever have reason to come after her, she had dropped to her feet and begged for forgiveness. She had pledged herself to the Order as a way to make up for her family's past and hoped it would be enough. But the moment she knew Voldemort was after her, she came to the decision that she wanted to confront him. She wanted him to know how much he had destroyed and I could not stop her."

A calm silence blanketed the two men in the study. Somewhere in the office, Fawkes gave a bored cry.

"I...I must apologize-I came at you without understanding...I thought...after her-after Lily-"

"Lily and James' deaths haunts me to this day, Severus," Dumbledore said softly. He walked towards Severus and placed an arm on the man's twitching shoulder. "I swear to you, Severus, I will never allow what happened to them happen to anyone else again. You must believe me when I say I did my best to convince Emmeline to leave with me. But she had made up her mind...I had no say in the matter."

Severus' head gave a jerk.

"There is more news," he added stone-faced. Dumbledore raised an eyebrow.

"Draco Malfoy has pledged himself to be a Death Eater," Severus said. "He has been assigned a new task."

"Has he?" Dumbledore asked with no concern. "What would that be, I wonder?"

"To kill you."

There was a short pause. "Ah."

"You do not seem too worried," Severus pointed out. "Is he that little of a threat to you?"

"We shall see in due time, I expect. For now, I have more pressing matters to attend to. And so have you," Dumbledore added, extending a piece of parchment out to Severus.

"What is this?" he asked.

"Miss Abbott has requested for your first appointment. The address shall reveal itself to you on the parchment before noon tomorrow. That's when the appointment is."

"Tomorrow?"

"Yes. You haven't got anything planned, have you? I don't want Miss Abbott to get the wrong impression of you..."

"Fine," Severus hissed, snatching the parchment roughly from Dumbledore's hands. "But don't expect me back at the castle anytime soon. The Dark Lord has requested me to be away from here...from you. He's also gifted me Peter Pettigrew...he will accompany me at Spinner's End until term resumes."

"A gift? That must mean Voldemort is warming up to his new right-hand man," teased Dumbledore.

"That's what he expects me to believe. He doesn't trust me entirely yet...I think he has instructed Pettigrew to stay with me to keep an eye on me. The Dark Lord is still suspicious of me and the incident with Vance certainly didn't help my case. I'll be laying low in the time being...I'll write to you if there is something of urgent need."

Dumbledore nodded once. He glanced once more at Severus, noting the man's sudden discomfort. There appeared to be something Severus was hiding from him, the words forming at the tip of his mouth yet his jaw remained shut tight. Dumbledore knew him well enough to know there was something else disturbing his spy's mind.

"Severus?" he asked.

The man looked up briefly, eyes meeting nervously before glancing away.

"Is there anything else you have to tell me?"

Severus seemed to struggle with himself for a moment. When he looked up at him again, Dumbledore saw the wall Severus had built around him.

"Like I said," he drawled. "I'll write to you if I remember anything else."

Dumbledore could only nod, hoping that whatever it was that had put Severus at edge was nothing too disturbing. He worried for him, yes, but there were far greater things he needed to be doing. He had to trust that Severus was well enough to look after himself for the time being. As he watched, Severus bade him good night and left Dumbledore alone once more. With him alone in the room, Dumbledore walked now towards the pensive with apprehension. He drew his wand and stirred the contents of the shimmering pool, watching as the tear-stained face of Emmeline Vance bubbled up.

"Thank you for listening, Dumbledore," her voice echoed as another tear rolled down her cheek. "You want to talk to Ogden. Bob Ogden. He'd come to talk to me about my father after hearing about his death before...said he'd been investigating him for a while but I turned him down. He seemed to know about Tom Riddle's records, too. You'll do whatever you can, won't you? You'll stop him?"

Dumbledore looked away from the pensive, dabbing at reddened eyes. He thought of the bright woman he had met, thought of how bravely she had met her end.

"I will do what I can," he whispered at the memory of the woman in the pensive. For a second, he thought he saw her smile before ripples smoothened out the contents of the pensive once more.

Chapter Text

[One week ago]
Severus knew meeting and signing those papers with Abbott had been a mistake. If he had known what he'd have been asked to do, he'd have willingly turned into a fugitive from the Ministry. He glared openly at the woman standing before him, an expression she shared quite as well as him. Abbott rolled her eyes and placed her clipboard down onto the table.

"It's just for an examination! It's not as though I want to jump you or something!" she exclaimed.

Severus turned red, crossing his arms against his chest even tighter. "This is a violation of my rights. I told you-Poppy just performed an examination on me two weeks ago and declared I was fine."

"Look, I don't barge into your classroom and teach you to be a Potions expert, do I? So why don't you stop telling me what I should or shouldn't be doing and just strip down!"

The staring continued but eventually Severus submitted to her orders, muttering curses and unintelligible words under his breath the entire time. He undid the buttons of his top, removing the layer as he sat onto the chair opposite Abbott. His fingers trembled slightly as he loosened the cravat and worked on undoing his shirt next. He did not look at Abbott as she leaned towards him and pushed aside his shirt so that her hands grazed against his skin. He could feel his cheeks getting warm again at her touch but continued to gaze at the floor.

"Right," said Abbott nonchalantly. "The bruises seemed to have healed up nicely, haven't they? When I gave you the antidote, I managed to siphon off most of the poison in your bloodstream."

"Most of it?" Severus asked, his eyebrow arching.

"It'd be impossible to get through all of it. My focus at the time was making sure I'd gotten just the right amount out so it wouldn't kill you. And anyway, the bit of the Boggart "juice" (she made air quotes as she said it) left in you is practically harmless in your system…for the most part.”

This time, he looked up at her in alarm.

”So is it going to kill me or not?”

”Yes…and no. The Boggart’s poison, if in little amounts, does absolutely no harm if it were to enter your bloodstream. Taken by itself, it’s even got magical properties that works against most venoms…in fact, I’ve used a sample in creating an antidote for a patient just a few months back. He’d been bitten by a poisonous snake when he’d been on guard at the Ministry-“

”Arthur Weasley,” Severus murmured with a shake of his head. “That was you? You developed the cure for the snake bite?”

She gave a nod. “We were at the brink of losing him and it was one of the most difficult decisions I’d had to make in my life.”

”You saved him…on a hunch,” Severus replied. “Did you save me on a hunch too?”

Abbott had a sad look on her face. “Not quite…it took me months to perfect it actually. But did I know if it would keep you alive? Well, that’s another question in itself.”

”So that’s why I’m here? So you can decide if your cure really worked or not? Because I can tell you that it has-“

”It’s not whether or not it’s worked,” Abbott said, cutting across him abruptly. “I know it has. This whole thing about coming here is about making sure it continues to work.”

”Meaning?”

The woman took a deep sigh. “I’ll explain in due time.”

She then moved away from him, motioning that it was alright for him to re-dress. Severus quickly buttoned away his shirt and threw his overcoat on him.

He watched as her figure retreated back to the other side of the desk. His eyes roved over to her little office space. Like his own study, hers was surrounded by strange-looking knick-knacks placed haphazardly about the shelves. It was a small and cramped space but she’d managed to make it an oddly charming place.

When he glanced back at Abbott, she was furiously scribbling onto her clipboard.

"What are you writing?" he asked in an irritated tone.

"Okay, Professor," Abbott replied, ignoring him completely. "If you'll just follow me into the back..."

Abbott then strode towards a leaning cupboard in the corner of the room with such speed he thought she would bump into it. To his surprise, however, the cupboard door swung open to reveal yet another room inside.

Severus got to his feet and walked silently, following Abbott into the other room. This room was much, much bigger than her office. It was also incredibly bright, the walls had been painted with a strange translucent white that made Severus' head throb. She led him to the center of the room where a giant machine had been placed.

"Beautiful, isn't it?" Abbott said, her voice suddenly gentle and soft.

"What is it?" he asked, turning to observe the machine. It was large and circular, with a singular bed that had been attached to it. Around the machine were strange Rune-like markings that looked as though someone had carved it haphazardly using a wand.

"It's an MRI," she said marveling at the object. "I had the opportunity of seeing the machine work at a Muggle hospital once. It's brilliant really what those Muggle doctors can come up with..."

"So you bought one of your own?"

"No," Abbott replied. "I nicked it...sort of."

"From the hospital? And brought it all the way here?"

"A simple doubling and reducing charm did the trick," she said with a shrug.

"And what exactly does this thing do?"

"It takes pictures of what is happening on the inside of your head and lets me see it."

At this, Severus turned his attention back to her. "You intend to see what's inside of my head?"

"Precisely. And..." as she spoke, she circled the machine once more. She pointed to the markings around it, "these were made by me. It's got an element of magic to it, too."

"What exactly do you hope to find? I don't know if Poppy's told you but she found a growth in my head...seems to think it'll kill me or something."

Abbott nodded grimly. "I know, she told me. If we are to discover what exactly that growth is and how to stop it, this machine's the closest thing to helping us do that."

"You promised me answers, first. Until you tell me everything, I'm not cooperating on any of this," he said, gesturing to the machine again.

"Okay, Professor," she said. She clapped her hands and a magic table unfolded just next to the machine. Another clap and two chairs appeared. Abbott motioned for Severus to take a seat.

"What do you want to know?"

"The Boggart. Tell me everything about it."

Abbott took a deep breath, her fingers drumming against the surface of the table impatiently.

"We discovered the Boggart about two years ago in the Amazonian forest. The Boggart had been living in there for decades, is my guess, and feeding off poor Muggles who'd wander into there. It flagged the Ministry's interest when a couple wizards went there as part of a research study and were never heard from. A few weeks later, one of them showed up at the Ministry with claw marks all over his face. The Control of Magical Creatures department took an immediate interest in the case and did their best to find out what happened. The poor boy died a day later from the wounds but they'd managed to extract most of his memories of the incident. The department sent a few men into the forest to capture it and then I was brought into the project to investigate it."

"You said something about it being cursed before?"

"Yes, yes, it was cursed. I mean, a Boggart usually focuses on doing psychological damage but this one had inflicted actual physical wounds onto its victims. It carried in itself some sort of poison that is fatal to us humans...a curse which we unfortunately only discovered after the unforeseeable deaths involved in transporting it to the Ministry. Only three out of eight Ministry employees sent on the extraction process made it back."

"But they managed to bring it back here?" Severus asked.

"Right. They had to enclose it in the Department of Mysteries before handing the project out to the experts.”

”Experts…that’d be you?”

”Correct. We had to re-create a habitat similar to the one the Boggart had been living in before…it took us a week to enhance the room but once we got the Boggart in there, it appeared to calm down a little.”

”The door to the room…you enchanted it so it only opens from the outside?”

”We had to. The Boggart was an intelligent form…it had years to develop itself in the forest that it could mimic a person’s fears even if they weren’t in the room. And just as it could impersonate a living person, it could do everything we could, too.”

”It could open doors?”

”Yes,” said Abbott. “And much, much worse.”

”You lost more people?”

”Oh, yes. It’s what I want to talk to you about today.”

Severus straightened up in the chair, focused entirely on the woman who sat before him now.

”The Boggart’s poison doesn’t just affect a person’s physical form. When I first examined the three who returned from the expedition, they had been injured but only lightly. It was through them I discovered that the Boggart’s claws contained toxins that would carry into its prey’s bodies and what would eventually kill them-“

”-so they all died?”

”I don’t appreciate the interruption, Professor, but yes. They died in the span of two weeks. And then…and then, after that, the caretaker was attacked.”

”Caretaker?”

”He was a Ministry employee tasked with transporting dangerous beasts across the country. He was summoned to help in moving and ensuring the Boggart was cared after for the entirety of the project. He was the only one allowed to move in and out of the room-the only one who could collect any data from the Boggart.”

”What happened?” Severus asked cautiously.

He had noticed the change in Abbott’s behaviour when she started talking about the caretaker. It was evident that whomever he was, he had been more important to her than the other casualties of the Boggart.

”He was attacked,” Abbott said in a low whisper. “He had gone in to check in on it without alerting anyone else. The spell around the door went faulty so he couldn’t get it to open. By the time I found him…”

“He died?”

”Not quite. By that time, I’d already worked out the foundation of the antidote and had nothing to lose…so I dosed him with it.”

She took a breath before she continued.

”It worked. It worked really well. In the second hour of dosing him, he was up and acting like he hadn’t just been fighting for his life moments before. It was…it was magic.”

”What happened then?”

”He was alright the first couple of days. But his health started to deteriorate. He claimed to see things he hadn’t seen before. Started hearing things, too. A week after he became hostile…attacking anyone that came too close to him…a month after that, he…they found him. Dead. He was…dead.”

Severus looked away as Abbott dabbed her eyes.

”I thought my cure had failed…that something had gone wrong…but Peter had left his journal behind. He’d written down everything he’d experienced after I cured him. All of the symptoms he’d experienced…they were all psychological. I retrieved his body and made a scan…using this machine and I discovered an abnormality (she pointed at her head) up here. That’s when I knew…the poison-even with the cure-could still inflict mental anguish onto the victims.”

Severus snorted. “That’s the reason for all this? You want to make sure I’m alright up here?”

She nodded yet again. “I’ve seen what it can do to a person and I’m not going to let it happen to anyone else ever again.”

”I’m sorry but this is ridiculous. I’m expected to come here and do what exactly?”

”Well, Professor, that brings us to the next part. The machine. It’s going to help me detect any abnormalities in your brain and then, using rune, I’m going to try and extract bits of what is causing it. It’s too complicated to explain but that is the essence of it.”

”What exactly will you be extracting?”

”Your memories. Pet-the caretaker, I mean, everything he’d recorded in his writing points to how the poison has a direct impact on your memories. Just as how the Boggart takes shape of your worst fear, it’s poison does the same…it picks up on memories that are haunting to you and uses it against you. Tell me, recently, have you been seeing things that wouldn’t logically exist?”

He remembered the image of Sirius Black he’d seen at the hospital wing weeks before. But that was different, he thought. He’d only just recovered from the Boggart’s attack…it was normal to hallucinate after you’d been beaten an inch of your life by a magical creature.

”No,” he lied. “I haven’t.”

”Good, that means the poison may not have started to spread yet. Still, I’d like to have you get on the machine for a scan anyway. The quicker we get this started, the higher the odds of you surviving this.”

Severus raised a hand to stop her.

”This has been enlightenment for me but I’m afraid neither allowing you to see nor access my memories is an option. Dumbledore and Poppy have explained my present situation to you, I am sure, which is why you understand why that would be a risk to my life.”

”You’ve signed the papers. You have nothing to worry about, I promise you.”

“It’s not as simple as that. What you’re asking me…it’s impossible for me.”

”Because you’re worried I’d expose you? Or is it perhaps because you’re afraid?”

He laughed forcibly. “What would I have to be afraid about?”

”Your memories. And what reliving some of them might do to you.”

Severus glanced down at his hands to see his knuckles were white. “There is nothing in my memories that frighten me.”

”Prove it then.”

She motioned at the machine. Severus stared at her, fighting the urge to say something offensive or nasty at her. Just as he was about to let his inner voice take control of him, he heard, to his utmost displeasure, Dumbledore’s irritatingly calm voice telling him to do as Abbott asked of him.

He stood to his feet.

”Fine,” he spat. “What do I do?”

Chapter Text

[One Week Ago]

Julia Abbott had always placed high expectations on herself, especially when it came to the machine she had built. Her confidence, however, had been shattered and quite devastatingly so. Now, she stood, facing a very angry, pale-faced man. Severus Snape was staring-no, glaring, more like-at her, looking very much as though he were inches away from murdering her then and there. Her eyes moved over to the top of his head where a huge head of hair was missing and then to his fingers where he clutched the fallen off hair as though he could stick it back on there. His usually-intimidating figure had been undone and to see him in such a state was so comical that Julia had to cough loudly as an attempt to hide her giggles.

Snape lunged at her suddenly and she had to take a step back. He waved the strands of hair at her wildly, his pupils constricting as he did.

"Is this funny to you, Abbott?" he asked. "What the hell did you do to me?"

Julia threw her hands up defensively. "I don't know what went wrong-it worked fine when I used it-"

"IT WENT FINE, DID IT?" he shouted now. "THEN EXPLAIN THIS!"

She shook her head, worried at the man's temper. She hadn't been lying. The last time she used it was sometime after Peter's death. She had been overwrought with sadness and anger at having read the last entries of his journals, and had spent many hours of the day trying to put together the machine. One night, she had clambered into the machine knowing that it would just work. And it had. It had beeped relentlessly and she had believed for half a second that she'd been wrong and that it hadn't worked. But then she felt the first wave rush through her. The gentle hum and whirs of the machine and then it was followed by the rhythmic tempo of the magic rolling over her, extracting bits and pieces of her as it went. And it had worked. The machine had captured her brain movements as well as the memory patterns in them.

"I assure you, Professor Snape," she said, pressing on his title so as to remind him that he needed to behave as such. "It was a while back when I tested it but it had worked. It definitely did and I have the scans to prove it."

"So what went wrong this time?" he replied, controlling his voice though the temper in his tone remained.

"I don't know. There must've been something you did-"

"-something I did? I did as I was told, Miss Abbott! I will not have you blame me for this when this-this thing-just about ripped half my head out!"

"Would you just calm down? Just...just turn around, let me see how bad it is..."

Surprisingly, he did not argue but rather turned to show the side of his head. There had been no internal or external injury done to his head as far as she could tell, which meant the worst of it was that a good amount of his hair had been yanked out. She glanced downward to see him clutching bits of his hair and felt a sudden sympathy for the man. She wasn't sure if he remembered her still but she recalled breaking up one too many of his violent outbursts when they'd been at school. Granted, he was always being put through public displays of humiliation and she often let him go without deducting any points off of him. She also knew, when she was much older, that such exhibition of violence and rage was often a result of an unhappy home. Though she was only a little older than him, a sort of motherly instinct took over at the sight of the man, never mind how nasty he'd been towards her just moments before.

"Would you let me try a charm to fix your hair?" she asked kindly.

Snape looked up at her, shocked by the gentleness in her tone. It had clearly caught him off guard because he nodded quietly and landed his gaze back onto the floor.

When Julia tapped the missing patch on his head with her wand, he twitched lightly. As she muttered the spell under her breath, she saw tufts of irregular hair grow out, slowly blanketing over his exposed scalp. When most of the blank patch had been covered by newly-grown hair, she tucked her wand back into her trousers. She frowned lightly as she examined his head. The charm had worked to an extent but it hadn't grown back to the usual length it had been before. Instead, his hair stuck out at odd ends on the back of his neck.

"It's grown back...at least, most of it. I think the interference with the machine must have caused some sort of malfunction on you. Magic seems to be working but not as well as it would have...I know for a fact my hair-growing charm has done wonders in the past."

He ignored her and instead patted the back of his head to make sure his hair really had grown back. He threw her a dirty look as he got to his feet. 

"Does that mean the machine didn't work?" he asked in an irritated tone.

Julia moved away from him and towards the machine. She bent over to examine the screen display on it, seeing the scanned images appearing on it. When she tapped it, it grew bigger so that it floated above their heads.

"It worked," she said in surprise. "It's all there...like it should be. The memories, too."

He became steel-faced at the mention of the memories. "You were serious then," he said. "About going through my memories."

"I'm afraid so, Professor. The memories that the machine's captured all have a direct link with the Boggart attack and, if my hunch is right, that strange anomaly in your brain. If we could just somehow weed out the source of it all, I think we might even be able to save you entirely."

"So what now? I just sit here while you go through my personal memories?" he asked dryly.

"Oh no," she said with a humorless laugh. "It's a breach of privacy if I watch it without you. You need to be present at all times."

He sneered at her. "Go on, then. Let's get this over with."

Julia smiled this time and shook her head. "I'm afraid we can't do that today. There's quite a bit of process involved so you'll have to wait for the next appointment."

Snape nodded curtly, looking somewhat relieved that they wouldn't be going through his memories just yet. He jumped off the machine, landing smoothly on his feet. As he passed her, Julia noted that he was a rather tall man, though he had a slight hunch to him. He also appeared a little discomforted, his right hand rubbing his left arm vigorously as he walked.

"Is-is um-" she blurted out without thinking and blushed when he turned around to face her with a raised brow.

"What?" he asked.

"Your hand-it's just...I noticed you holding on to it (he immediately dropped his arms to his sides) and wondered...if you want me to have a look at it?"

"No," he replied quickly. "It's nothing. It just stings now and again."

Julia went to stand by him. She reached her hand out cautiously. "Still...I could look at it. You don't have to be afraid, you know. I've seen it before-on your arm...the Mark, I mean...back when I treated you for the poison. It doesn't bother me-I mean, obviously, it does but not because of you."

She began to turn red now, embarrassed at herself. "I just mean," she said with a sigh, "that I don't mind treating your Mark. I know it's what you do and I think it'll help if I could just...help."

Snape looked as though he'd just swallowed an entire rock. "I told you-"

"-it's nothing, yeah, I heard," she said with a shrug. "Come on, then. I'll see you out."

Judging by the way his shoulders dropped and relaxed, she noticed how relieved he was that she hadn't forced him to show her his hand. He was a very guarded man and given what he has been doing for Dumbledore, Julia knew it was necessary for him if he wanted to survive. She had her work cut out for him. The next few sessions they had was the only way she could show him that she could be trusted and when he did, she'd save him like she had promised. Losing Peter to the Boggart had been terrible and his death was something that she feared she would never recover from. But with Snape, she hoped that by saving him, she could somehow make up for what had had happened to Peter.

[A week ago: That evening]

Severus arrived at Malfoy Manor, knowing full well that it was the worst thing he could do at the moment. Even so, he hadn't been able to contain the small excitement he'd felt when he thought about seeing Narcissa Malfoy again. The last time they'd met, they had parted with a kiss that he couldn't seem to forget. It was revolting hat he lusted after another man's wife, but he could not will away what he felt for the woman-no matter how hard he tried. With all of these conflicting emotions waging war against him, he made his way to the front of the steps.

Head filled with shame and heart with guilt, he knocked on the door. When Narcissa answered, almost every belittling thought he had of himself vanished instantly. He offered her a weak smile as Narcissa regarded him with surprise. She noticed his awful hair and covered her mouth in mock-horror.

"Oh no," she exclaimed, lips twitching at the corners. "What's happened?"

Severus gave a helpless shrug. "Can you help?" he asked.

"Oh, Severus," she said with a fond shake of her head. "Come in."

As he stepped in, she suddenly leaned towards him. Severus braced himself, eyes shut tight, but she aimed a soft kiss on his cheek rather than his lips. He blushed as he glanced up at her. She had a mischievous glint in her eyes, as though she had done it on purpose. They both walked in silence, heading into the kitchen where Severus felt was most homely to him. There was something personal and intimate about the room. The way the mismatched glasses and various-shaped plates decorated the place gave him the impression that the kitchen was the only place in the entire house that was real.

"Sit down," she said. As she spoke, she dragged a chair so it faced the window overlooking the garden outside. "Now, let me look at what you've done to yourself."

He did as he was told and sat down. He could hear her fussing about around him and a moment later, felt her drape a large cloth around him. She had in her hand a pair of scissors as well. He raised his head upward so he could see her standing behind him. She smiled down at him and shook her head.

"How did this happen?"

"If I tell you, you wouldn't believe me," he replied.

"You know, I'm not exactly an expert at hair-cutting...Draco and Lucius usually got theirs done at Laurence's...."

Her voice trailed away and he did not bother to ask on it. Bringing up Lucius' name into the conversation had turned him uncomfortable as well.

"Is Draco home?" he asked, hoping the awkwardness would quell away. 

"No, Bella took him out somewhere, I think," she said, her voice sounding cold and forced. Severus heard her snip away at his hair and felt coming here had been a mistake.

"Narcissa," Severus started, feeling her tense up behind him. "Is something the matter?"

Severus craned his head to try and look at her. She walked around him, facing him as she got down to her knees. Wordlessly, she pulled gently at the long strands of hair that framed his face. He watched, mesmerized, as she twirled his hair and straightened it so it was stretched out before his face. And then she began to snip away at it, her eyes focused away from him. Severus struggled slightly to get his hand out of the cloth she had blanketed over him and grasped her hand, stopping her.

"Is something wrong with Draco?" he asked.

He immediately regretted it, watching her eyes tear up once more. All she ever did in front of him was cry, he thought miserably.

"You tell me, Severus," she said, sniffling. "He's never home and when he is, he locks himself up in his room all day. And now, Bella's got him following her around to do Merlin knows what...do you know what it feels like? For years, I've watched Lucius destroy himself for the Dark Lord-for many, many years. He loved him, Severus. He loved the Dark Lord more than he loved me and Draco. And now my son...my son is doing the same. Do you know what the worst part is? He's doing all of this because he thinks it's what Lucius would have wanted from him! He's destroying his life for his father!"

She began to sob, planting her head onto Severus' lap as she did. Severus removed the scissors from her, dropping it onto the floor with a clang. He then scooped her up, shaking her lightly so she glanced up at him, his hair dancing awkwardly about his face.

"He's not doing this for Lucius," Severus whispered. "He's doing this for you. He loves you, Narcissa, and just wants to protect you."

"But I don't need him to protect me! He's just a child!" she cried.

Severus did not know how to comfort her. He wished he could explain to her that whether or not she needed protection was not the issue. Like Severus, Draco felt a strong urge to keep Narcissa safe. It was an inherent part of their nature, this need to make sure that no harm befell this sad, beautiful woman. Lucius had felt the same way, never mind how he had let his love for her dwindle since the Dark Lord's return. Lucius, Draco and Severus; the three men whom would undoubtedly lay down their lives for Narcissa without a second thought. 

"There is something you should know," Severus murmured, steeling his gaze away from her. Though it would strike her down, he had to tell her. As a mother, she had a right to know.

"What is it?" she asked tearfully. The bags under her eyes had worsened over the passing weeks and her skin had become flushed from all of the crying she had done. He wished he could simply wipe all of her sadness away, or if he could, take it all out and put it in himself. There was so much more of it he could carry still.

"Draco has taken the Dark Mark," he whispered, his thumb grazing the side of her face gently.

She choked on a sob before throwing herself onto him, burying her face into his shoulder and crying earnestly. Severus allowed her to. And though his arms twitched and longed to be placed around her, he resisted. He could feel her trembling and shaking as she wept onto him, her tears staining his clothes, trailing onto his skin and leaving biting remarks about how he had failed her. He did not say anything for the longest time but let the poor woman grieve for son who would inevitably be lost to her soon. Taking the Dark Mark was no simple feat, and the task Draco had been set with was only much worse. He knew if he broke the news of Draco's mission to Narcissa now, it would break her. Though, he supposed there was not much of anything there to break anymore.

"I've lost him, haven't I?" she whispered against his neck.

She sat back up on her knees, imploring him to comfort her with false words that would fuel some hope back in her chest.

"Yes," he breathed back, watching her crumple. "But that doesn't mean you can't get him back. He still loves you, all of this-it's for you. You are his mother and he is your son. If he's taken the Mark, then he is likely to lose himself. I certainly did. And coming back from it-it might takes weeks or months or years but it's possible."

"Did you ever come back from it?" she asked.

He shook his head. "It's too late for me. I sold my soul a long time ago, as did Lucius. But Draco...Draco still feels the love you have for him...call me weak if you want but sometimes, that's all it takes to come back. The love you feel for someone...it keeps you grounded, keeps you sane. In the end, if he knows that you love him and he loves you, he will come back. And I believe that he will. He's more your son than he is Lucius...he'll come back."

Severus realized too late that a tear had rolled down his cheek. Narcissa gave him a smile that made his heart ache.

"You know, you're quite romantic," she said as he dabbed away at the tear.

He snorted, dismissing her comment with an incredulous look. She laughed and squeezed his knees.

"So why is it too late for you?" Narcissa asked, refusing to let the conversation end.

"The things that I have done," he said, thinking briefly of a green-eyed woman lying lifelessly in her destroyed home. "No...a man like me can't ever come back from any of it."

"So what?" she asked in a low voice. "Does that mean you don't deserve a good ending?"

"How can I? When so many others can't because of me?"

She tilted her head and combed the free-falling strands of his hair back with her fingers. "Dumbledore's had quite the effect on you, hasn't he?"

Severus took her hand in his. "I've spent quite a bit of time with him. Tends to happen."

"And what of me, Severus? I have done just as many wicked things as you have. Is that the reason for all of my suffering now?"

He shook his head. "All that you have done, terrible or not, have been to keep your family safe. Think of all of this as something you have endured, rather than suffered. I promise you, Narcissa, someday you will have your happy ending. I will give you my life if that is what is needed to make that happen."

"Silly man," she said. "If you die, then there is no ending for me."

Just like that, they were trapped in a moment once more. Neither speaking out loud but both clear in what exactly they wanted. Or needed. She leaned in and Severus did all he could to contain his pounding heart. Her scent was overbearing, pushing him to his limits. He closed his eyes, feeling her breath on his face. 

"Taught that twitchy little prick, didn't I?"

Severus opened his eyes, pushing Narcissa away from him. She was taken aback, getting to her feet as voices echoed throughout the halls outside of the kitchen.

"Where's your mother at-Cissy!"

Severus and Narcissa had just a minute to compose themselves before Bellatrix walked in, Draco trailing closely behind. Bellatrix's eyes narrowed as she glanced at Severus on the chair and Narcissa standing before him, scissors in hand.

"What's he doing here?" she asked accusingly.

Severus stood up, pulling the fabric bunched around him and rolling it into a jumble. "I came to check on Draco."

"You did, did you?" asked Bellatrix. "You must be thrilled that Lucius is finally out, aren't you? You can come and go as you please now."

"Draco," Narcissa spoke softly. "Where have you been?"

Draco stepped into the light, regarding Snape just as dirtily as his aunt had done. His expression softened when he looked at his mother, however.

"I was out with Aunt Bella."

"I've got myself a fine nephew, Cissy. Nearly tore up old Ollivanders in half, didn't he?" Bellatrix exclaimed proudly, her chest heaving.

Narcissa rushed towards Draco, examining her son for any injuries. "Are you alright?"

"I'm fine," he said as he brushed away his mother. "The old fool couldn't aim for his life."

"You attacked Ollivander?" Severus asked. "Under whose orders?"

Bellatrix gave a low cackle. "And what concern is it to you?"

"Is he dead?" Severus asked again.

"Like I said, Snape, it's none of your business what we've done with him. If you know what's good for you, you'll stay out of this. And away from my sister, too, while you're at it."

The tension in the room began to rise rapidly as Severus clenched his jaw in annoyance. Narcissa, sensing the potential fight that could occur in the kitchen, quickly grabbed Draco's hand and pulled him away.

"Come, Draco," she called. "You need to get changed and then we'll have dinner. You too, Bella. Severus needs to be on his way."

Bellatrix gave a grunt but did as she was told. Draco gave Severus a seething glance before following his aunt in her steps. Narcissa turned to him, smoothing his unkempt hair.

"It's not very good, your hair. I'm sorry," she said.

Severus smiled, staring at the mess of hair on his head. "It's fine, I suppose. It'll grow out soon enough."

"You never did tell me what happened," said Narcissa.

"It's best if you don't know," he replied.

"Severus," she called and his lips twisted into a smile.

"Yeah?"

"You're alright, aren't you? You'll tell me if something was the matter with you?"

He looked at her now, searching her face to see whether or not it was genuine concern she held for him. He wanted nothing more to tell her how he felt. Scared, because there was something growing in his head that could kill him at any given time. Worried, because he did not know if Julia Abbott could cure him in time from the Boggart poison running through him. Heartbroken, because he knew there was no way he could ever properly love Narcissa the way she deserved. Bitter, because everything in his life had been unfair-even as a child. And finally helpless, because there was nothing he could do to convince himself that he could ever have a life after the war was over.

"I'm fine," he said with a defiant nod.

There was no need to burden her with all of his problems, she had enough of her own. For now, he would carry his weight by himself and simply wish that there would come a time in  where he is granted with new hope for the future. It didn't matter, he thought, whether or not he was killed from the growth in his head or the poison or even the Dark Lord. Nothing he did would ever be enough to redeem what he had done to Lily and countless others. The best that he could do now, though, was make sure that he saved as many people as he could before he faced his inescapable fate. 

Chapter Text

[Two days ago]

Severus' return to Spinner's End was imminent, never mind whether or not he wanted to. He had been away for far too long and to continue in this manner would arouse the suspicion of the household's latest addition, Peter Pettigrew. He had only just moved the man onto the property and had already heard countless offerings of disgust at how small and lackluster the place was. Severus himself, on many occasions, had thought much worse things about his mother's house but to hear it come from Pettigrew of all people seemed to tug on his already-thinning nerves. It was punishment enough that he couldn't have his way with the man after his part in Lily's death, and now he was forced to play host to Pettigrew and his tireless whining.

He had entertained the thought of murder far too many times for it simply to be contemplation at this point, and one that occurred frequently throughout the day. The only thing holding him back from giving into his dark thoughts were less so concern over actually killing a man (he doubted Pettigrew even counted as one) but more so how we would explain Pettigrew's sudden disappearance from his home. As worthless as the rat was, Severus thought grimly, the Dark Lord wanted him alive. No doubt the Dark Lord would require a lowly man servant such as him yet again in the future, but until that time came, Pettigrew was inevitably stuck with Severus.

"Only until term resumes," Severus reminded himself aloud as he rubbed his forehead.

As he spoke, Pettigrew stuck his head out from behind the hidden hallway in the living room. "What was that?" he chattered noisily, his ugly-looking fingernails coming to rest up his chin in an animated way.

Severus glanced up at him for a brief second and turned back to the thick book on his lap wordlessly. Though Pettigrew had only been around a short while, Severus had learned just about everything that annoyed the rat. Ignoring him was one that irked Pettigrew the most so Severus was perfectly content doing just that. His tactic had worked because Pettigrew stepped out from the hallway and towards the armchair Severus occupied, wearing a very nasty expression on his face.

"Didn't you hear me? What did you mean until term resumes? Who are you speaking to? Was someone talking to you?" Pettigrew asked, and to Severus' amusement, he stomped his foot on the ground..

Severus sneered, ignoring Pettigrew again. This time, however, Pettigrew reached over and snatched the book from Severus and threw it close to the fireplace. When Severus looked up at Pettigrew with a snarl, the man took a sudden step back.

"What do you want, Wormtail? I thought I told you not to step foot outside of that little wormhole?"

"You-you can't speak to me like that! I-I-I'll tell the Dark Lord what you've been doing round here!"

"You will, will you? Do tell, Wormtail, what is it exactly have I been doing round here that the Dark Lord will find so interesting? Perhaps you will tell him how I have been reading in my free time? Or shall you inform him of the fifty million things you have found unpleasant about this house? No doubt he'll be all ears about what you've found down in the cellar."

At this, Pettigrew turned a bright red. "Do you take me for a joke?"

"You give yourself too much credit, Wormtail. You're more a disgrace than you are a joke. At least jokes are funny," Severus responded with a smirk.

"How dare you? Have you forgotten the number of times you lost to me in school, Snivellus?"

The sound of his awful nickname hit on Severus' last nerve and he leaned forwards, fingers clawing and digging into the flimsy fabric that held the old chair together.

"Lost? To you? Need I remind you, Peter, that it wasn't just you who took me on in school? Then again, I'm not really surprised...after all, you were Potter and Black's little lapdog, weren't you? You spent a long time running around school deluding yourself into believing you were so much like them...and now your delusions has rendered you incapable of seeing just how pathetic you were-and still are, for that matter."

Pettigrew made an offensive stance that Severus got to his feet now. His wand jutted out from his trouser pocket but Severus ignored it. He didn't need a wand now, not when it was against Pettigrew. Though the other man was bigger than he was, a rat would always be a rat. Pettigrew had no spine; his present attachment to the Dark Lord was the most obvious proof of that.

"You will not talk to me in that manner! The Dark Lord put me here to keep watch-"

"-then be a good little watchdog and leave me alone."

"-you think you're so tough because you replaced Lucius, don't you? But I see you for what you really are, Snivellus!"

"And what is that, pray, tell," Severus goaded as he took yet another step towards Pettigrew.

"A traitor," Pettigrew said in a hushed voice. 

Severus was startled by the sudden accusation but he recovered rather quickly. "You would know, wouldn't you?"

Pettigrew's eyes widened as he began to step away from Severus, but he followed, confident in his strides. Pettigrew had been staring at Severus the entire time that he failed to realize that he was now cornered into a wall with no way out. He couldn't scurry out and Severus found him losing more and more control every step he took towards the other man. He could feel the tingles of rage in the base of his fingertips, creeping its way slowly through his system.

"W-what-what are-"

"Tell me, Pettigrew, did they ever suspect at all of your treachery?" Severus asked, his eyes hardening as he looked into the other's man face.

"What-no, no, I-"

"I wonder," said Severus in barely a whisper, "if Potter even contemplated the thought of you betraying them before the Dark Lord killed him?"

"Stop-stop this, please-"

But Severus would not stop. He had inched his way towards Pettigrew, they were now so close that another step and Severus' chest would collide against the other man.

"Or were you so inconsequential that he barely spared a thought for you? Black knew, of course, but only because he was the one that had suggested you be Potter's Secret Keeper...did you know, Wormtail, Lupin thought it had been Black? No one-not one other soul-had deemed you capable of such an act...you were that ordinary. But you proved them all wrong, didn't you?"

"Shut up!" Pettigrew spat but Severus did not flinch one bit.

"Does it haunt you, Peter? Do you ever think of them? Does it keep you awake at night? Or hadn't they meant anything to you at all? You gave them away so easily, after all..."

"No! No! You won't speak to me like this-"

"Does this subject bother you, Peter?" Severus asked with a cruel smile. "Is it easier to pretend that you didn't destroy all of your friends' lives just so you could keep yours? Look at you now, alive and well while the rest of them are scattered in ashes! You must pat yourself on the back for this, surely?"

"I-I was...I didn't-"

"You didn't what? You didn't think the Dark Lord would actually go after them? Or you didn't think anyone else would ever find out about this? But you've done such a great service to the Dark Lord, Peter. Why, not even Lucius could find out where the Potters' had hidden away. Not even dear old Bellatrix. And then you swoop in, just like that (Severus snapped his finger for effect), and tell the Dark Lord exactly where Potter and his family were. This ordinary boy who willingly betrayed his closest friends..."

"Why?" Pettigrew asked timidly. "Why are you doing this?"

"I want to know, Peter," Severus replied with a dangerous smile. "I want to know how easy it was for you to have done what you did. I want to know why a boy who had been so in love with his friends could kill them with such ease."

"I didn't kill James-and Lily-"

"Didn't you? Anyone else in your position would so gladly take credit for such work, Peter!"

"I was scared-you have no idea-people in the Order were being killed....we were losing..."

Severus leaned in closer. "So it was you over them?"

"And my mother," Pettigrew said in a rattled voice. "My poor mother..."

"So the Potters' lives in exchange for your mother's then, was it? Where is she now, Peter?"

"Dead!" Pettigrew cried out. "Killed! Killed because-because of me..."

Severus allowed the other man to shed tears, apathetic towards his newfound misery. It gave him a sense of satisfaction to see Pettigrew in such pain, to know that he was hurting over what he had done. He wanted someone else, for once, to feel what he felt every second of the day. To know that agonizing, burning sensation in his chest and the weight on his shoulders and the anchor strapped to his ankles.

"Did you kill her too?"

"No!" Pettigrew roared. "Not her! Never her! She-she went after Sirius! She wanted to look for him-to kill him because she thought I was dead!"

"And then what happened?"

"She found out the truth! She'd seen me-she'd seen me and she'd been so happy! She followed me! For days! She followed me to surprise me but she-she realized what I'd gotten myself into...the Dark Lord-he showed me mercy...he forgave me for my foolishness but my mother...he didn't think she could keep what I'd done a secret and he...he had to do it! My mother...my mother-he-"

Pettigrew fell onto the floor, breaking into loud sobs, his tears dropping over the floor. Severus stepped away in disgust at the man.

"You're pathetic," he said and watched as Pettigrew cowered. "You're better off being nothing, Peter. Nothing at all."

He thought of kicking Pettigrew while he was still down, hoping it would relieve all of that fury consuming him now. Just as he was about to, he heard a loud knock on the door. Severus and Pettigrew looked in the direction of the door at the same time, both obviously not having expected anyone there. 

"Stay there," Severus ordered before moving towards the door.

When Severus opened the door just enough to see who it was, he saw that it was an unfamiliar woman. She was dressed in Muggle attire, with a hat that was just a bit big for her and a large overcoat thrown over her shoulders.

"Yes?" Severus asked.

"Might we have a word, Severus? Inside, perhaps, where it's more private?" she said calmly.

He was taken aback that she knew whom he was. He threw a glance at the corner of the room where Pettigrew was staring at him.

"Outside," Severus replied. "I have a guest."

She nodded and waited as Severus stepped out, closing the door tightly as he did.

"How do you know who I am?"

"I was told-"

Severus lifted a finger and the woman quieted. He felt for his wand, pointing it at the woman. "Muffliato," he murmured and felt the familiar buzzing around them.

The woman smiled. "I was told by Dumbledore that I might find you here. He's requested for you. Said it's urgent."

"I thought I told him I wouldn't be coming back to the castle?"

She shrugged. "Dunno, mate. He told me he was heading out somewhere and expected you there when he got back."

"He'd better be dying," Severus chided. The woman's mouth formed an 'O' before realizing he was simply joking.

"Do you live around here?" he asked, suddenly feeling awkward at the sudden silence.

She gave another smile. "I'll see you around, Severus. And that spell you did-quite handy."

With that, she gave a wave and walked away as Severus stared at her in puzzlement. He turned round, opening the door so quickly that Pettigrew, who had been posted by door trying to listen in, flew backwards in a hurry.

"Who was that?" Pettigrew asked, his earlier frightened pose vanished.

"A friend," Severus replied shortly.

Pettigrew snorted. "A friend? What did she want?"

"Nothing that concerns you, Wormtail."

"It does concern me. The Dark Lord has requested that I..."

"That you what?"

"Nothing. It doesn't matter."

"Good," said Severus, walking over the coat rack. He grabbed his coat and swung it over his attire.

"Where are you going?" 

"The pub. You're welcome to follow me, if you'd like. Though, I do request you do it from a distance. I don't want people thinking we know each other."

"You...you're leaving? What if the Dark Lord needs you?"

"I am a grown man, Wormtail. If the Dark Lord requires me, he shall summon me as he usually does."

Pettigrew appeared to have an internal argument with himself for the longest time. Severus raised an eyebrow as he regarded him.

"Will you be trailing after me to see if I really am going down to the pub?"

"No...no..." Pettigrew replied quickly, wiping his hands on the back of his trousers. "The Dark Lord has mentioned...I am not to leave..."

"Good," said Severus with a smug smile. "In the meantime, perhaps you should start dusting away the living room. And if you're done before I get back, you can get finish clearing away your quarters, as well. Don't want other rats nesting in your bed, do we?"

Before Pettigrew could register the condescending remark, Severus was out the door. Outside, he placed a charm so Pettigrew wouldn't be able to sneak out without him knowing.

"This better be important, Dumbledore," Severus murmured under his breath. 

He walked quite a distance, just far enough that he was sure Pettigrew could not see his figure from the house, before Disapparating to Hogwarts.

Chapter Text

[Two days ago]

He reappeared seconds later at the rusted front gates of the school. He rushed through, his coat billowing behind him noiselessly. He could feel his heart pounding, and knew he wouldn't feel relieved until he was at the headmaster's side. He had already warned Dumbledore about the Dark Lord's commands about staying nearby Spinner's End, and he knew that Dumbledore wouldn't have summoned if it wasn't some kind of an emergency. Severus picked up his pace, pointedly ignoring Hagrid's friendly calls from the hut. The groundskeeper could wait, he thought as he made his way uphill.

Severus had made it to the entrance with no other disturbance but his luck waned the moment he stepped into the castle.

"Oof!" he cried out as he felt something collide into his chin. And then a second later, "Minerva!"

"What on earth-Severus!" Minerva exclaimed as she took a step back, her hand rubbing her forehead with a cross expression. "What are you doing rushing about in such a manner-I mean, really-"

But Severus hadn't stopped to listen. He had brushed past her, striding towards the staircase in his haste until Minerva called out to him. With a frustrated sigh, he turned round to face her at the bottom of the steps.

"I haven't got the time, Minerva! Dumbledore, he-he's not-"

"Dumbledore," Minerva said with a slight crease of her brow, "is fine. I was just with him at the office so I'd suggest stopping to take a breath first."

Severus blinked. "He-he's alright?"

"I should hope so! He's up there right now, serenading the Sorting Hat with his bird right before I left."

There was a rush of breath that entered Severus' lungs just then. He allowed himself a moment to breathe, pinching the bridge of his nose as he exhaled loudly. Minerva gave a disapproving shake of her head.

"I keep telling that man," she chided. "It's enough that he's got you overworked as it is and now he's got you running back and forth worrying about whether or not he's fine! For goodness sake, look at the state of you, boy!"

He scowled. "I'm fine. This is how I usually look."

Minerva wagged a threatening finger at him. "I don't know how many times I have to keep telling you to eat! I know Poppy's had her fair share of your nonsense as well. Sometimes I think of you and I just...worry...all the time."

"Oh, dear," said Severus teasingly. "Has the Head of Gryffindor gone soft?"

She threw her hands in the air and gave an exasperated sigh. "There's nothing wrong about being concerned for your friend, you know. The other night...you just left-I know what Remus said was awful and he shouldn't have but Severus, I just thought you should know he was beside himself after. He'd had too many drinks and he was hurting over Sirius..."

"If you expect me to go over there and apologize-"

"He wants to apologize, Severus. He's worried that he crossed the line-"

Severus sneered widely at her. "You can tell the werewolf I could care less about his apology. You can tell him I didn't lose a good night's sleep over what he said, either."

Minerva cocked her eyebrows. "And you get loads of those at the moment, do you?"

He had run out of sarcastic responses and chose to ignore her comment instead. "Dumbledore's expecting me," he said, looking away from her.

"Shall I save you a seat at dinner, at least? Albus tells me you've been busying yourself away at your house-"

"-I'm...not staying. I don't know if Dumbledore's told you but I've recently attained a housemate and I can't afford to be away too long. You can expect my return when term resumes."

She nodded and Severus thought he could see a quint of anger in her eyes at the mention of Pettigrew. She took one last glance at him, as though trying to discern if he was in proper form.

"I didn't want to comment, Severus," she said at last, turning away from him. "But what in Merlin's name have you done to your hair?"

He rolled his eyes, his hand coming over to flatten the uneven strands of hair about his face. "I'll see you around, Professor," he said as he swept away from her.

When Severus stepped foot into Dumbledore's office, he saw how messy it had become since he'd seen it last. There were dozens of boxes packed together around Dumbledore's desk; stacks of paper had been emptied onto Dumbledore's desk and his pensive now sat atop of the pile, its contents glistening as it always did. The headmaster was by the shelf when Severus had entered, and had quickly stuffed a thick end of a book back onto the cupboard before turning to him.

"Ah, Severus," he greeted. "Certainly took your time, didn't you?"

"Minerva wanted a chat," Severus replied with a shrug.

"Yes, she did give me an earful about what I've got you doing these days," Dumbledore said, his eyes twinkling. "Alas, we have no time for such a talk, I'm afraid. Hurry now, we've things to do."

Severus frowned, his hand coming to rest on his hips. "I'm sorry, are we going somewhere?"

"Yes, but do not ask me where...it is impertinent to ask. Come," he beckoned as he extended his arm out to Severus.

Without argument, Severus took hold of the other man's arm and felt the familiar jitter as they disapparated.

When Severus opened his eyes, he saw that they'd emerged in the middle of a dense forest. He reached for his wand, pointing it out ahead of him. Dumbledore, however, appeared cool as he strode calmly into the woods. Severus followed after him, taking a more wary approach of the situation. As they walked deeper among the strange and hollowed trees, Severus finally made out an infrastructure of some sort in the middle of a clearing. It was a poorly made shack that had been overtaken by moss and weeds and twirling vines everywhere.

"Are you going to tell me what we're doing here? Or is that irrelevant as well?" he asked dryly.

"We're here," said Dumbledore slowly, "to get inside."

"And simply walking through the front door is not an option, I take it?"

Dumbledore gave a light chuckle. "I wouldn't have brought you here if it was that simple. The last time I was here, I conjectured that there might be dark spells around the exterior walls of the shack. I could undo them all, of course, but I thought the two of us would make quicker work of it."

Severus knelt down, his hands scrambling to collect the soil. He examined the earth trapped between his fingers, feeling for any signs that it had been tampered with magic. He felt a strange resonation and knew that it wasn't any ordinary person who had laid down the curses surrounding the area. He looked up at Dumbledore, whom was looking at him with a very curious expression.

"When you said it wasn't important to know where we were going..."

"It was for your own safety, yes. If Voldemort were to know that I'd brought you here, suffice to say it wouldn't end well for the both of us."

He gave a brief nod to acknowledge it. He got to his feet, brushing away the grime and dirt on his hands. "He's done a decent enough job protecting the place..."

"But?" asked Dumbledore.

"Most of the enchantments and curses are sure to be outdated by now..."

"So they're by all means breakable?"

"Very much so."

Dumbledore clasped his hands together. "Excellent, Severus. Let's get to work, shall we?"

Severus gave another nod and strode towards the shack. The spells were tricky and demanded great attention to detail. Fortunately, Severus' proximity with the Dark Lord back then had given him an opening into knowing the kind of man he was. The Dark Lord was a powerful wizard but he had the tendency to underestimate the people around him. He didn't think there could be other wizards and witches who could be just as talented as he was, and there was his biggest flaw. It was why Severus himself had been able to survive for all this while, why he had managed to convince the Dark Lord of his true allegiance. His arrogance, Severus thought, would prove to be his own downfall.

There was a loud bang and as Severus turned, he saw Dumbledore had deactivated one of the curses on the other side of the shack. With no time left to lose, Severus aimed his wand at the furthest right-side and watched as there was another loud bang. The noise shattered the silence of the woods around them and Severus took comfort in the fact that Dumbledore was alongside him. Since the Dark Lord's return, he had done his best to keep away from the headmaster. It was best he stayed away; he didn't want Dumbledore to find out everything that was going on with him. And in that moment, as though he had read his mind, Dumbledore spoke.

"How was your meeting with Abbott?"

A crease formed between his eyes. "Fine," he said.

"What did she say?"

Severus raised his brow. "I don't think I'm allowed to discuss that with you," he replied rather abrasively.

There was another bang. "You're holding back," said Dumbledore, glancing at him.

"And you aren't?"

Dumbledore seemed taken aback by his sudden hostility. He lowered his wand and drew closer, though Severus wished he wouldn't. "Severus...if there is something you wish to say to me..."

"Who was that woman at my doorstep? She seemed to know where I live, what my name was...who I was, even."

"You didn't think I'd make sure my spy was carefully protected outside of the castle walls?"

The older man was peering into Severus' face, trying to break down the minute change of expression in Severus' face as it went from anger to embarrassment.

"I have told you, Dumbledore, I don't need protection! You can't go around coddling me-"

Dumbledore lifted a hand to stop him. "I am not coddling you," he said darkly. "I cannot allow any unnecessary risks to befall you whilst you are under Voldemort's wing...it would be detrimental to our own cause should something happen while you are away."

Severus scoffed lightly. "So this is for our cause? Nothing more?"

"What else would it be for?" asked Dumbledore, smiling. "Now, come, we've done away with most of the enchantments."

There was a silent understanding between the two men, that there was something far more troubling that awaited in the shack than their present conversation. Severus stowed away what Dumbledore had said, he would have plenty of time to go through what he'd said when he was back at Spinner's End. They raised their wands at the same time, muttering counter-curses swiftly under their breaths, and watched as the final strands of the spell surrounding the little shack came undone. They stared, Severus with a satisfied expression, as the reverberation around them finally stopped.

"Hurry," said Dumbledore. "We must be in and out before Lord Voldemort senses we are here."

"Are we looking for something in particular?" Severus asked as he moved towards the threshold in quick strides. But Dumbledore did not respond; instead, he beckoned for Severus to keep moving ahead.

The shack was a dingy place, much like Spinner's End, Severus noted. The windows were grimy and so covered with moss that he couldn't look into it even if he tried. The door was the strangest sight of all. There was a thick nail that came out of the wooden door from the other side, and hanging from it was what looked like skeletal remains of a snake. Severus sensed an eeriness coming from behind the door but as he looked to Dumbledore, the other man did not seem bothered at all by the image.

Severus stepped aside and allowed Dumbledore to stand before it. The headmaster said something under his breath and pushed the door open, stepping through it with his wand stretched out ahead. The glow of his wand illuminated only where they walked, the rest shrouded in darkness. The inside of the shack was much worse than what Severus had expected. Somehow, leaves from the trees outside had blown into the interior. The floors were covered with creeping nettles that had settled themselves in every corner of the house.

"Dumbledore, what are we looking for in here?" Severus asked again.

"An object of some sort. I expect it'll present itself to us in a bit," said Dumbledore.

As they walked through the hollow space, Severus encountered several picture frames arranged in a haphazard manner along the room. There was a moving photograph of two men and behind them, a cowering girl. He stood there for a moment, his glowing wand tracing the movements of the people in the frayed picture. There was an old man with broad shoulders and too-long arms, staring into the picture with a grim expression. Beside him, a taller and younger-looking man who smiled jeeringly in the picture. Several of his teeth were missing but what slighted Severus the most were the man's eyes. They were small and dark, staring off into opposite directions and giving him the look of a deranged madman waiting to behead his victims. He shook off the slight shiver he felt before turning to the timid-looking woman in the corner of the picture. There was something about her that drew Severus' attention; she had a pale face with lank hair that reached her shoulders. Her eyes were red, as though she had just finished crying, and from her neck hung a pretty necklace. As he stared at the picture, he noticed the S that was drawn along the necklace, tiny green stones surrounding the sides of it.

"Salazar," Severus said aloud.

Dumbledore, who had walked quite a way from Severus, turned around sharply. "What was that?" he asked calmly.

Severus turned to the headmaster and pointed to the picture. "That's Salazar Slytherin's symbol. The locket the woman is wearing...its Salazar's, isn't it? I remember reading about him...it's part of the Slytherin heirloom. And if she's wearing it, then it must mean she's a direct descendant of his...before he died, he made sure that it was passed on to those with his bloodline."

When Dumbledore did not respond, Severus pressed on. "She must be his granddaughter...and this man must be her father...and this one...her brother, perhaps? But what had they been doing in a place like this?"

"You don't think they could have lived here?" Dumbledore asked with a hint of amusement in his voice.

"The descendants of Salazar Slytherin? Live in this shack? Why, my Muggle father's house is bigger than this!"

Dumbledore laughed. "You'll be surprised to discover that life for Salazar's descendants turned shabby fairly quickly after his death. Poverty did not matter to them much. Their bloodlines, on the other hand..."

Severus snorted in disbelief, glancing back at the images on the photograph. "Is that what we're looking for? The locket?"

The headmaster approached Severus warily, shining his light onto the picture so that it was brightly illuminated now. As Severus watched, Dumbledore began to scrutinize the picture with a hefty glance. He wore a strange expression as he finally allowed himself to focus onto the older man in the picture. Dumbledore's thin fingers traced the outline of a rather large ring on the man's finger, breaking into a grim smile as he did.

"What is it?" breathed Severus.

"We must continue our search," said Dumbledore, though what it was he searched for remained a mystery.

The living room finally ended as they took notice of what appeared to be the kitchen of the shack. All around them, pots and pans were scattered about the floor and the counter tops. Mold and litter filled every inch of the place; it was every bit as unattended to as the main part of the house save for the rather grand-looking wardrobe that leaned by the corner of the room. Dumbledore's attention had been caught onto this as well. They walked at the same pact towards it and stopped short before it.

Dumbledore waved his wand and for a moment, Severus expected a trap to spring out onto them. Instead, all there was inside of it was a singular and ordinary-looking cardboard box.

"Bit unexpected, isn't it?" Severus said aloud. Dumbledore made a small noise to entertain him before bending over to pick it up. Severus leaned over to see what it was that had captured the older man's interest with such fervor. As Dumbledore lifted the lid off, there was a clutter of things in the box-most of which were as plain as the box they had been placed in. Severus gave a sigh loud enough that warranted a glance from Dumbledore.

"Something the matter, Severus?" he asked.

"Doesn't seem to be much in there, by the looks of it," Severus replied.

"Looks can be deceiving," said Dumbledore, eyes narrowing as he glanced him over. With that, the headmaster reached over to empty the contents of the box onto the floor. As unidentified objects fell out of them, something rolled out from under the pile and onto the floor. Had it not been for its rather dim glimmer, Severus would have missed it himself. He bent so he was at the same level as Dumbledore, stopping the other man from grabbing the ring off the floor. Severus felt round in his coat pocket and pulled out of it a small kerchief and used it to pick the fallen ring off the floor. He noticed it carrying the same emblem as the one the man in the photo had, handing it over for Dumbledore to inspect.

"Is this what you've been searching for?" Severus asked.

"I'm not at liberty to say," said Dumbledore. "You think it a mistake to touch it?"

Severus gave a shrug. "Seems odd to have put so much effort into protecting the shack and then leaving these items unprotected. Being careful wouldn't hurt."

Dumbledore smiled. "I am fortunate to have brought you here, Severus."

He gave a nod, sparing Dumbledore a worried glance. Dumbledore had become careless the minute he had spotted the ring, and that meant there had to be something about it that was affecting him so. Dumbledore examined the ring several times, muttering under his breath as he did before finally closing it off with another layer of the cloth. He got up on his feet, the ring clutched tightly in his palm.

"I think you've done well enough here, Severus. I can manage the rest from here."

Severus raised his eyebrow. "You want me to leave?" he asked.

"Yes, yes, I think it best. Though...I don't suppose you could do me a favour?" Dumbledore asked.

"I'm not the type to work for favours, Dumbledore," Severus snapped. "The last time I agreed to it, you hired a werewolf to run around the school teaching defense and had me forcing Occlumency down Potter's head!"

The other man gave a forced laugh. "Funny you should mention Harry.." he said, withdrawing a letter from his pocket as he did. "This came from him. From Abbott. He's got an appointment with her and I was supposed to bring him-"

"-then you should. I'm not getting involved, Dumbledore...I've told you, the Dark Lord has warned me to stay away from the school. If he knew I had been with Potter..."

"This is important, Severus," Dumbledore said in an urgent tone. "The work we've done here today...you have no idea how much it means to the cause, not right away, but you will. If it weren't important, I wouldn't ask this of you."

"You know, you talk about making sure I'm safe when I'm away from Hogwarts and yet you're the only reason why my life is in constant danger! You have no care of what might happen to me if I continue to disobey his orders, do you? Do you-no-no, you don't have a clue, Dumbledore! No, let's just ask Severus Snape to do the impossible and hope he makes it long enough for his next challenge!"

"There is much left to do...if I could spare the time to take Harry, I would. You must believe me, Severus."

"Then ask someone else! What about Lupin? Or Mad-Eye? Surely all they do is lounge about instead of actually doing anything?"

Dumbledore shook his head. "You are the only other person I would trust with Harry. You're the only person I know who wouldn't allow any harm to befall the boy. Her boy."

Severus snarled menacingly. "Don't," he said in a low voice. "Don't bring her into this. I don't want anything to do with Potter-not after everything he's put me through in the last year. I can't-I won't let you-not again."

There was a soft sigh from Dumbledore. "Very well, Severus. I shall try my best to handle it on my own. I am sorry that you feel this way, though."

He snorted loudly, sparing Dumbledore an angry glare. "Don't call for me again, Dumbledore. Not unless you're dying. Else, I'll be seeing you like everyone else when term resumes."

He did not turn back to see Dumbledore. His anger had spouted off yet again, and he was shaking so badly that he thought he would fall over and crack. Severus stomped away from the shack, away from Dumbledore and away from what he was sure he would come to regret much, much later.

Chapter Text

[Two days ago]

The minute Severus reappeared back at Spinner's End, he was been stuck with an uneasy feeling in the pit of his chest. He could remember quite vividly Dumbledore's expression as he had glanced upon the ring in the shack. His whole demeanor had changed and it didn't help that the second he had secured the ring, he had sent Severus away. He hadn't wanted him to know what he intended to do with the ring, which made Dumbledore's intentions frighteningly clear. The reason he had asked Severus to accompany him to that little shack in the woods was to break the enchantments around it and nothing more. The rest, whatever secretive thing he had planned for it, was unknown to Severus-nothing short of the usual treatment, he thought.

Yet, the worry that gripped Severus would not flit away no matter how much resentment Severus had for the old man. He walked past the silent houses and rapped on the door of his own before entering. Peter Pettigrew had come out of the hideaway Severus had placed him in and was now lounging about rather freely in the living room, his grubby little hands going through his mother's books on the shelf near the fireplace. The rat froze, staring wide-eyed at having been caught by Severus in such a manner.

"I thought I was clear about how we would make this arrangement work, Wormtail," he said, irked.

"Where have you been?" Pettigrew demanded angrily, slamming the book he'd been inspecting back into its place. "You were gone for a long time!"

Severus sneered. "Worried about me, were you?"

Pettigrew turned red and took a bold step towards him. "You've been sneaking around, haven't you? You take the Dark Lord for a fool-? I'll let him know...I'll tell him all of the things you've been up to...how you're never here like he expects you to be,"

"Very well, Wormtail. If you would like for me arrange a proper time in which you are able to communicate your...ah, dissatisfactions with me to the Dark Lord-"

"-I don't need you to speak to the Dark Lord for me!" Pettigrew hissed.

"By all means, go ahead, then. Don't let me stop you," Severus replied, brushing past the other man and settling down onto the armchair. "But, I find I've had quite a bit to drink and I'd appreciate it if you could keep the noise to a minimum, Peter."

The condescending way in which he spoke to Pettigrew had gotten on his nerves. Pettigrew threw him a disgruntled look and stomped back down the stairs, where Severus knew he would sit and plot his downfall when the opportunity came next. Severus was less than worried; Pettigrew was less of a threat than any other person he had met in his life. Even as a schoolboy, he had only ever talked a big game about fighting-when it came down to the actual fight, it had always been Potter and Black whilst Pettigrew cheered from the back. He was and always would be a coward, and that was the most Severus could ever hope for from him.

Severus relaxed onto the chair, fingers nimbly unbuttoning his jacket and removing it to lay over his lap. His head rested against the cool fabric and his eyes closed momentarily. The air in the house was thick, but it was something of a comfort to him. He remembered faintly the first time Lily had come over to ask him to play. She had noted later, once they were out of the house and in the playground where they'd always meet, that it had been much too hot and difficult to breathe. Severus' lips twitched as he recalled the disapproving look on her face when he’d told her he was used to it. It was strange how well he could still remember every detail of her face; the way she would frown when he'd say something unkind and then laugh because it had been funny anyway. Severus found himself drifting in old memories and it wasn't soon before he was lulled to sleep by them.

He awoke, two hours later, to something tugging at his ankles. Severus startled, feeling for his wand as he tried to see around the darkened room.

"Please, Professor Snape, sir, you must come with me!"

"Dobby?"

The house-elf had his hands wrapped around Severus' right leg, pulling at it as though it were enough to get him on his feet. Severus grabbed the elf so he was forced to release his grip and bent down to speak to him in a hushed voice.

"What the hell are you doing here?" Severus whispered, looking over the hidden bookcase where Pettigrew might be stood by, listening.

"You must come with me, sir," Dobby replied, big drops of tears falling from his face as he spoke. "It is Professor Dumbledore, sir, he is not waking up-"

"-what are you talking about? He was fine," said Severus, feeling his stomach clench lightly. "He was fine when I left him this evening."

"Please, Professor, you must-you must come with me and help him, sir. Winky has said that he asked for you before he is passing out, sir-"

Severus got to his feet immediately. He took hold of Dobby, steadying the house-elf who looked to be on the verge of collapse. "Take me to him. Hurry."

Severus was aware of just how much he was shaking as he carried the goblet over to Dumbledore, who looked more dead than he was alive. It had been twenty minutes and the only word he had heard from the old man's lips were Severus' name, and if anything it only made him feel all the more worse.

He took Dumbledore's withered right hand and placed it on the desk. His wand pointed at the blackened hand, Severus began to make quick work of the incantation. When it was nearly complete, he tipped the golden liquid in the goblet down Dumbledore's throat. Once it was completely emptied, Severus rested the goblet against the desk and dropped to his knees before Dumbledore.

He gazed up at Dumbledore, whose eyelids began to flutter lightly after a minute or two.

"Get up," he said softly. "Get up, Dumbledore."

Dumbledore opened his eyes and Severus sat back on the floor, sighing in relief.

"Why," he said without pause, "why did you put on that ring? It carries a curse-I'd said as much at the shack. Why even touch it?"

Dumbledore winced as he looked at Severus. "I...was a fool. Sorely tempted..."

"Tempted by what?"

When Dumbledore did not respond, Severus pressed on furiously. "It is a miracle you managed to return here! That ring carried a curse of extraordinary power, to contain it is all we can hope for; I have trapped the curse in one hand for the time being-"

The headmaster nodded seriously, raising his hand to examine it with the same curiosity of a ten year old discovering new flavors at Florean Fortescue's.

"You have done very well, Severus. How long do you think I have?"

Severus got to his feet now, looking away from Dumbledore as he answered. "I cannot tell. Maybe a year. There is no halting such a spell forever. It will spread eventually, it is the sort of curse that strengthens over time."

When he turned back to Dumbledore, he saw, to his surprise, that he was smiling.

"I am fortunate, extremely fortunate, that I have you, Severus."

"I should have never left you there!" Severus shouted angrily. "I should have seen you back to the castle...I should have made you leave that ring back there."

Dumbledore shook his head. "That was never an option, Severus. No power in this world could have prevented me from bringing this ring back here."

Severus glanced down at the desk where the ring lay. It had been cracked in two, no doubt by the Sword of Gryffindor which lay next to it. "Did you think that breaking the ring would break the curse?"

"Something like that...I was delirious, no doubt..." said Dumbledore. He gave a grunt as he attempted to straighten himself in the chair, his arm weighing him down tremendously. Severus moved to help but Dumbledore waved him off.

"It's aright, Severus," he said. "I expect my carelessness will no doubt only bore you more danger? Coming to see me twice in a day...I don't think Voldemort will be too accepting of that...you have my apologies, of course."

"Don't worry about me, Dumbledore," Severus replied coolly. "I will make my excuses, as I always do. I just wished you'd summoned me sooner...I might have been able to do more, buy you more time, even."

"A year is more than I could ever ask for, my boy," said Dumbledore with another smile. "But I expect this makes matters much more straightforward, doesn't it?"

Severus offered the man a puzzled look.

"I refer to the plan Lord Voldemort is revolving around me. His plan to have the poor Malfoy boy murder me."

Severus went over and sat himself on the chair opposite Dumbledore. There were a great many things he wanted to talk to Dumbledore about but it seemed the headmaster was clear there was only one thing he was interested in discussing. 

Severus scowled, giving in. "The Dark Lord does not expect Draco to succeed. This is merely punishment for Lucius's recent failures. Slow torture for his parents, while they watch him fail and pay the price."

"I seem to recall Lord Voldemort setting you with a similar task years ago. You haven't forgotten, I hope?"

"When he'd ordered me to kill you, it was because he knew I would fail. My death had been certain back then; if you hadn't killed me, then he would have for my failure. It is the same exact punishment that has befallen Draco. Except I was ordered to kill you for my disobedience and him for his father’s mistakes.”

"And yet, here we are, many many years later, alive and well," Dumbledore replied, beaming. "Funny how that worked out, isn't it?"

Severus shook his head. "Nothing funny about it. If you remember well, the only reason I was reprieved was because I brought him news about the prophecy. If I hadn't, I expect the world would have turned without me in it.”

Dumbledore shook his head. "If you hadn't heard the prophecy that night, I'm not quite certain I would have made the pleasure of knowing the real you, Severus. Alas, it seems too much to hope the same for Draco."

"You don’t think he can get out of this unscathed?"

"I would be a fool if I did. The boy has already been marked...but I admit, I do hope to save him from a far worse fate than what Voldemort has planned for him. The boy should not have to suffer for the mistakes of his parents. What does Narcissa think of all this?"

There was a slight edge in Dumbledore's voice as he mentioned Narcissa's name, and Severus did his best to maintain his composure. "She does not know yet, I think. She was surprised to know that he'd taken the Dark Mark without telling her. Already he is concealing things from her, hiding away his motivations...we cannot rely on a mother alone to save her child from this if he does not even confide in her in the first place."

"As I expected then. Now, if we are to follow your version of events...if Voldemort truly expects Draco Malfoy to fail, I should have thought the natural successor to the job is yourself?"

Severus paused. "Yes."

"Lord Voldemort foresees a moment in the near future when he will not need a spy at Hogwarts?"

"He believes the school will soon be in his grasp, yes. He believes that you have been severely weakened in the battle at the Ministry...and with Umbridge proving how easy it is for the Ministry to take over the school last year...there is no doubt he will intend to take over the school."

"And if he does, I have your word that you will do all in your power to protect the students at Hogwarts?"

Severus nodded, gritting his teeth at the thought of the school in the Dark Lord's grasp. He could make all the promises he wanted to now, but it seemed impossible that there was enough left in him to protect the entire school. If he even lived long enough to see it happen, that was.

"Good," replied Dumbledore. "Now then, it's time we set to work, isn't it? Your first priority will be to discover what Draco is up to. A frightened teenage boy is a danger to others as well as to himself. Offer him help and guidance, he ought to accept, he likes you-"

"-much less since his father has lost favor. Draco blames me for what happened to Lucius. Bellatrix has already started to dig her claws into him and she's certainly no fan of me."

"All the same, try. I am concerned less for myself than for accidental victims of whatever schemes might occur to the boy. Ultimately, of course, there is only one thing to be done if we are to save him from Lord Voldemort's wrath."

Severus raised his eyebrows. "Are you intending to let him kill you?" he asked, his tone sardonic.

"Certainly not. You must kill me."

An eerie silence fell over the office now, the only sound was from Fawkes gnawing a bit of cuttlebone.

"Would you like me to do in now?" Severus asked sarcastically. "Or would you like a few moments to compose an epitaph?"

"Oh, not quite yet," Dumbledore said, smiling. "I daresay the moment will present itself in due course. Given what has happened tonight, we can be sure that it will happen within a year."

Severus fell back against his seat, crossing his arms. "If you don't mind dying, why not let Draco do it?"

Dumbledore's face turned serious. "That boy's soul is not yet so damaged. I would not have it ripped apart on my account."

"And my soul, Dumbledore? Mine?"

"You alone know whether it will harm your soul to help an old man avoid pain and humiliation," said Dumbledore. "I ask this one great favor of you, Severus, because death is coming for me as surely as the Chudley Cannons will finish bottom of this year's league. I confess, I should prefer a quick, painless exit to the protracted and messy affair it will be if, for instance, Greyback is involved-I hear Voldemort has recruited him? Or dear Bellatrix, who likes to play with her food before she eats is."

Severus stared at Dumbledore for a long time, searching for any sign in the other man's eyes that would indicate that this entire thing was nothing more than a cruel joke. But there was nothing but honesty in the blue eyes that pierced him so deeply that he had to look away. In the end, he gave a curt nod.

"Thank you, Severus," Dumbledore said at last, satisfied with the answer. He raised his hand again, trying to flex his fingers though they remained unmoving. "I expect it'll be too much for Poppy to look at?"

"She'll kill you first," Severus answered. "I have some pain-relieving concoctions in my store...they're not Ministry-approved, I admit...just mere experiments but they have worked to a certain extent. If you need them, that is."

Dumbledore smiled, his eyes closing as he relaxed. "I hate to ask for one more thing, Severus..."

Severus sighed deeply. "It's about Potter, isn't it?"

He watched as Dumbledore removed the letter he had shown him at the shack, sliding it over to him with his left hand. Severus took it and tucked it into his trousers, a neat scowl planted on his face.

"You'll get him there safely, I hope?"

"You're lucky you're dying," Severus said, feeling a deep ache in his chest as he said it. He got back on his feet and looked over at the headmaster, who was very much in a bad way. "Call for me if you need me, won't you?"

But Dumbledore hadn't heard. He had already drifted into a deep sleep in his chair.

"Winky," Severus called and the house-elf appeared.

"Master Snape, sir," she said, her voice cracking. "Did you save Headmaster Dumbledore, sir?"

"He's fine...do you think you could get him back to bed? He needs to rest."

She nodded, hurrying over to fuss over the sleeping Dumbledore at his desk. Severus glanced over at his withered hand, wishing for nothing more than to undo what had been done unto him. He did not know or understand why bad things kept happening to him, even when he had done his best to keep away from the darkness. There was no way for him to process any of this in a sober state.

The last thing on Severus' mind as he made his way out of Hogwarts for the second time that day was the fact that in a year, everything would change. And he would be the only person who knew and understood what terrible things would unfold soon at the castle.

Chapter Text

[Present time]

Harry stared with wide eyes at the little office space he had stepped into. He hadn't been to quite so many offices before but this one oddly reminded him of Snape's office back at Hogwarts, save, of course, for the random bits of thing submerged in jars and the eeriness of the dungeons. This place was small and cramped but it was practical and even a little homely, like the Burrows. The thought of the Burrows now reminded Harry of the Weasleys and he found that he missed them terribly. He was so distracted in missing them that he missed Snape's slight shove from behind him. The second time Snape pushed him, Harry jarred back reality. He staggered forwards, glancing behind him to see a sullen-faced Snape.

"Walk," he instructed in a silky voice, moving his head in the direction of a low cupboard at the other end of the office. They walked quickly and quietly, and with Harry wondering where on earth Snape was taking him to. When they got there, Snape rapped the cupboard thrice and Harry watched as it swung open to reveal a corridor-like room within the office. Harry couldn't help the surprised grin that spread over his face, obviously delighted by the bit of magic he had just witnessed.

Harry squeezed through into the room right behind Snape. He gazed around this other room with as much of a dumbstruck expression as he had earlier. This space was much larger and emptier - white walls and ceilings and floors surrounded him for what felt like miles. There wasn't any furniture except for a large machine in the center of the room, and opposite it sat a long table and three chairs. In one of the chair was a woman who had jumped to her feet when she had seen Harry and Snape enter.

"Harry! Harry Potter!"

The woman hurried towards the two of them. She was about a head taller than Harry and had a kind and familiar face. She was beaming with an almost sort of fondness as she drew closer to them.

"It's nice to finally see you...I hope the journey wasn't too difficult?" she asked, sparing a quick glance at Snape. "I was expecting you two hours ago-"

"-which, I assure you, is because Potter here thought it a good idea to wander around a Muggle neighborhood unwatched and unprotected. You'll learn in due time that Potter's irresponsibility often costs the rest of us mortals our forsaken time-a trait, you'll notice, he takes after his father," Snape said in a rather haughty tone.

The woman gave a nervous laugh as she adjusted her glasses. "Yes, but that doesn't appear to be the only thing he's inherited from his dad, does it? Blimey, you're the spitting image of him!"

Harry gawked at her, very much surprised that this woman not only knew him but seemed to have been acquainted with his father as well.

"Julia Abbott," she said, extending a hand out for him to shake.

Snape prodded Harry in the back roughly. "Manners, Potter," he said under his breath.

"Sorry-er, sorry, Miss Abbott," Harry replied hurriedly, his hand rushing to grab hers for a shake. "Er, you're not Hannah's mum, are you? Hannah Abbott from Hufflepuff? Cause you two look really alike-"

Abbott nodded, smiling widely. "She's my kid, yeah. Alright, come, now, Harry, and take a seat. You're behind schedule as it is-best I explain what we'll be doing today."

She pointed to the table and Harry moved towards one of the chairs. She then turned to Snape, her smile and his frown unwavering as their eyes met.

"Professor," Abbott said in a low voice. "I'd compliment the the haircut but I expect that's too soon."

Snape snorted loudly. “I’d appreciate it if you get on with the program, Abbott. Once we're through, I'm to take Potter back to his aunt and uncle's. No doubt the two are plotting this very minute on the best way to get rid of Potter should I return him later than what was agreed. I expect even Dumbledore's lost his power over them-"

"Where is Dumbledore, by the way? I was expecting him to turn up here with Harry," Abbott said, walking towards where Harry sat. "Is he alright?"

Harry noticed the slight change in Snape's expression at Abbott's words. His brows had gone high up on his forehead and his lips had turned downwards, and he looked more sour than usual. Harry looked away when Snape glanced at him before answering. "The headmaster has decided he has far more important things to tend to," he replied viciously, lip curling as Harry glared at him.

But Abbott hadn't seemed to have heard nor cared about his jibe. She had settled down opposite of Harry and pulled out a thick binder out of thin air. She pushed it towards him and pointed at the quill and ink on the table.

"Er, what's all this?"

"Fidelity papers," replied Abbott. "They're just to keep you safe, don't worry. Severus will tell you-it's perfectly alright, isn't it?"

Still standing where Harry and Abbott had left him, Snape gave a nod. "It'll keep everything that happens between you and Miss Abbott here private."

Snape's somewhat civil tone gave Harry the reassurance he needed to scribble his name across the papers. Once he was done, he looked up to see Abbott's smiling face. She took the papers, arranged them in a file before sticking them back into the binder.

"Right," she said with a wink. "Let's catch you up on the whole Boggart issue now, shall we?"

Harry stood in Abbott's office, leafing through the magazines and pretending very much not to hear the argument between her and Snape. The moment Harry had emerged from the machine, Snape had started firing Abbott with multiple questions. He had been angry that the machine hadn't ripped Harry's hair off his head (which Harry was extremely grateful for) and had demanded to know why it had sabotaged Snape's hair in the first place. Abbott had screamed back in defense of her machine, claiming that something about Snape must've been what had set it off. After what felt like years of yelling between the two of them, Snape had demanded Abbott continue with the meeting.

That had been when things had turned much, much worse. Abbott had just begun to explain how their memories of the Boggart incident clearly showed no internal harm had been done to Harry, which meant that he wouldn't have to attend the mandatory sessions that Snape had with her. Now, Harry had believed he had seen the worst of Snape when he had thrown his tantrum third year after Sirius' escape from Hogwarts. To his surprise, he had watched as Snape exploded into a new fit of rage over the fact that Harry had gotten off free while he, Snape, had to serve his time with Abbott. He had screamed at Harry to leave the room before he turned back to Abbott, his face red and blotched.

"YOU'RE DOING THIS TO ME ON PURPOSE, ABBOTT!" Snape screamed from the other room.

"And what reason would I have to do that, Professor?" Abbott asked back, her voice relatively calmer than his. "I assure you, I look forward to this no more than you do."

Harry sniggered as he heard Snape splutter incorrigibly and could almost imagine Abbott's pleased smirk.

"YOU-YOU DON'T-DUMBLEDORE MUST'VE PUT YOU UP TO THIS! HIM AND POPPY AND-AND-"

"Professor Snape," Abbott said in an intimidating voice, "I am an extremely busy woman, juggling a career as a Head Healer and running operations for the Ministry. If you think that I would, for even a second of my life, waste my time to purposely bring harm unto you or conspire with the Hogwarts staff to do whatever it is you're accusing me of, you are very much mistaken."

There seemed to be nothing else for Snape to say. In the end, the man gave a dejected sigh.

"You're sure?"

"I'm sorry?" Abbott asked.

"All of this-" Snape said. "You're sure about all of this? You really think you can help me? Because I promise you, Miss Abbott, I-I'm not worth being helped. Perhaps it is better if your resources were spent elsewhere."

Abbott gave a miserable laugh. "And where would I spend them? I've lost too many good people to this Boggart, Professor. And besides, I think the students at Hogwarts would have my head if they knew I'd allowed their favorite Potions Master die out on me."

Snape snorted loudly. "They'd congratulate you, I expect."

When Abbott didn't respond, Snape spoke again. "If I don't go through with any of this, will you report me?"

There was a pause.

"No," replied Abbott in a firm voice. "No, I wouldn't report you, Professor. I can't force my services on people who refuse to help themselves, but it doesn't mean I'll get them sent to Azkaban for it, either. The decision is yours to make, ultimately. But I think we can fix this. You just need to trust me...can you trust me?"

Snape's voice had suddenly turned low so Harry had to move closer towards the hanging cupboard, his ears straining hard to catch what he was saying.

"And Potter?" Snape asked. "You're sure he'll be fine?"

"Quite," said Abbott with more confidence. "If you're unassured, I could always pop by the castle and examine him myself."

Snape didn't reply for a long time, and then, "That would be...most prudent...for the boy."

"You care about him," Abbott said in a kinder voice this time. Snape made a noise that sounded like a mix between a snort and a scoff.

"The headmaster cares about him. I'm merely making sure for his behalf...you don't know how Dumbledore is."

Harry had a second to react when Snape and Abbott both turned towards the exit. He jumped backwards, toppling over a stack of books by the shelf next to him. He stooped down, pretending to pick them up as Snape and Abbott walked in. Snape stopped behind Harry, his arms crossed as he looked down his hooked nose at him.

"What are you doing, Potter?" Snape asked coldly.

"Er, they fell over," he said weakly.

"Couldn't just sit where we left you, could you?"

Harry scowled, intending to speak his mind when Abbott interrupted the two of them. She urged them to take their seats opposite her other desk in the room. Harry gave a smug smile as he moved across to where she was as Snape glanced over at the fallen pile. Harry watched Snape warily as the other man took the seat next to him. Snape inched away from Harry as he sat down, a move which didn't bother Harry at the least. He was used to Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia giving him the same treatment, as though he were a diseased rat that couldn't come near them. Harry was perfectly content, however, with the distance between him and Snape.

"Okay, well, let's get down to business. Harry," Abbott said cheerily, "Like I've said, it doesn't seem necessary for you to attend these sessions anymore given you weren't harmed by the Boggart venom. But, I will be stopping by Hogwarts sometime during your next term to perform examinations - they're just protocol, nothing to worry about. It's just to make sure you're doing alright."

Harry nodded. 

Abbott turned to Snape next. "And you, Professor? Shall we decide on a good time for our next session-if you're thinking of attending them, that is?"

Snape flushed. "When?" he asked with a sour expression.

"I'd like to schedule it for when term begins. From our previous assessment, it appears you have yet to experience some of the more severe symptoms so I see no reason for us to rush this. I expect you have a lot going on at the moment, as well? Would it be alright if we put this away for now?" Abbott asked.

Snape stared up at Abbott, mouth twitching as he hesitated to speak.

"Professor? You haven't been experiencing the symptoms, have you?" she asked again, this time her voice shaky.

Harry turned to look at Snape who looked at a loss for words. In the end, he shook his head. "No," he said curtly. "I'll see you when term begins."

Abbott nodded but she seemed more unsure now, shooting a rather puzzled look at Snape.

"Will that be all?" Snape asked.

"Yes, yes, I'm afraid that's all for today."

There was no hesitation next when Snape stood to his feet. He glared at Harry, motioning for him to start walking. Harry did as he was told, giving Abbott a small wave as he walked towards the exit. He had stepped outside when he heard Abbott call Snape back. Harry lingered by the door, trying to catch their conversation in case it had anything to do with him.

"Professor Snape-Severus-" Abbott said in a pleading tone.

"Miss Abbott?" Snape replied.

"You are telling the truth? You haven't been seeing any hallucinations around you recently, have you? Because if you have, I need you to-"

"Are you suggesting I am being untruthful, Miss Abbott?"

"What-no, of course not-"

"Then I expect I'll see you when our meeting resumes. Potter!"

Harry jumped, alarmed at having been caught by the door.

"Spying, are you?" Snape yelled.

Harry watched miserably as Abbott gave him a sad smile before closing the door on the two of them. As they walked, Harry was forced to listen to Snape rant about how exactly like his father he was and that he had half a mind to just leave him behind. By the time Snape had dropped him off at Privet Drive, he didn't know whether spending the day out with Snape was any better than being cooped up at his aunt and uncle's all summer.

Chapter Text

The earth was cold. It was the only thought running across Severus' head as his fingers dug deeper still into the dirt. There was a moment when he wondered how long it would take for him to clean his nails which were sure to have been caked in grime by now. There was another white flash that whipped over his back and he was in such agony that he planted his face into the wet ground, screaming into it like nothing mattered anymore. He was not human anymore, he thought. He was barely alive, his soul had detached itself from whatever remained of him - it had somehow miraculously escaped his body so that he could no longer feel anything else. He wished, in that moment, more than anything that death would come. 

But he was lifted off the ground and thrown back onto the ground. Severus simply lay there, panting and shivering until he felt the Dark Lord sweep over to him.

"Get up," the Dark Lord commanded.

As though something had taken over him, Severus began to gather the scattered pieces of him, patching them together so he would be able to do as the Dark Lord had ordered of him. He did not know how but he had managed to lift himself up to his knees. He kneeled before the Dark Lord, his hair hanging over his face wildly. Severus wondered if he appeared as demented as he felt. 

"What did Dumbledore ask of you this time, Severus?"

"Nothing," said Severus in a low voice but the Dark Lord had not heard. The man reached over to grab Severus' face roughly, and he was so used to it by now that he did not flinch.

"I said," the Dark Lord said, his eyes slits, "what did Dumbledore ask of you? Why did you go to him when I ordered you to stay put, Severus?"

"Nothing of importance, M-My Lord," Severus replied, staring into the Dark Lord's eyes. He was weak and vulnerable, yet he could feel his defenses wounding around his memories, protecting him when he felt himself incapable of doing so. Occlumency was a part of him now, he realized. He had used it-depended upon it so frequently that he no longer had to put in any real effort into it anymore. But the Dark Lord did not look into his memories as he usually did.

"So why? Why go? Wormtail tells me you have been gone every few nights. He tells me you are away in the day and when you do return at night, you are absorbed with hiding away something. He suspects you are up to something, Severus. Tell me, is Wormtail right? Are you betraying me?"

Severus shook his head. The Dark Lord hardened his grip on Severus' face, drawing him closer.

"So Wormtail is lying? Shall I call for him? Shall I punish him for spinning tall tales of your betrayal, Severus?"

"My Lord," Severus said, closing his eyes. "He tells the truth but not the whole of it."

The Dark Lord released his hold on Severus, spitting at his feet as he began to pace around him. "So you admit to it? You are telling me that all this time you have been betraying me?"

"The truth is far more complicated than that, My Lord."

"Bah!" the Dark Lord cried. "You are buying time, Severus. You have been buying time since the day you joined me, you and I know that. Always with your pretty words...pretty lies!"

"It is not the prettiness of my words that has earned me your trust," said Severus.

The Dark Lord let out a laughter that sent chills down Severus' spine. "Do you really think that I trust you, Severus? That I have ever believed you were loyal to me?"

Severus looked up, forcing his jittering fingers to remain still by his side. "Only a fool would ever trust a man such as I. And you are no fool, My Lord."

There was a quiet moment shared between the two men. "Speak," the Dark Lord then spoke.

"I am a spy. To be untrustworthy has been embedded deep within who I am...it has been for nearly all my life. It is what has kept me alive thus far. I am able to buy myself credit amongst my enemies, to feed them with delicacies I have personally extracted and refined to meet their tongues, to convince them that it is their names etched on the walls of my skin. That it is to them I pledge myself to. Knowing this is who I am, only a fool would ever believe that I am an honest man."

"You think Dumbledore trusts you?"

The shaking stopped as Severus regained control of his breaths. He was steady, strong. "I know he trusts me. The nights that I have been away from home," he said quietly, "are the nights Dumbledore had called upon my services back at the school. He has been gravely injured, though by what I cannot tell. When I went to him, he was on the verge of collapse. Had I acted by my senses, I would have saved Draco Malfoy the trouble of killing him that night - that was the extent of his injuries."

"But you went," the Dark Lord replied sternly. "You disobeyed my orders and you went to him. You answered his call, knowing the repercussions you would be owed to me. Dumbledore called and you answered, Severus. What say you to that?"

Severus smiled, quick to hide away his nervousness behind the quivering of his brows. "Because just as Dumbledore believes he knows me, I have come to know him as well. If he ever summoned me when I was to be away from Hogwarts, it would have been for a justified cause. Something worth risking the life of a spy for. So, yes, I went. I would do no differently if you turned back time, even, My Lord. I am that convinced of my decision."

"You have gone mad," the Dark Lord said in an incredulous voice. "You disobeyed me on purpose and now you claim you have done no wrong on your part. You say you went to him when he was in a state of duress, that he was so ill he was as good as dead. Did you save him?"

"Yes," he answered without hesitance. "Yes, I saved him. Against my better judgement, I decided it was necessary he remained alive."

"So," the Dark Lord fumed, "not only did you go against my orders, you helped to save the enemy whom I instructed for you to kill. Did the thought not occur to you at the time, Severus, that if you had murdered Albus Dumbledore, you would have allowed us to capture the castle?"

"You can take over Hogwarts any moment you wish, My Lord. They are severely weakened and far too busy licking their wounds to realize that the might of the castle is not as strong as it used to be. If you stormed the castle even now, there is a guarantee you may overrule Dumbledore's reign over it. But that would overshadow the truth of what I learned that night I had attended Dumbledore's call. The truth that will change the entire course of the war."

The Dark Lord paused and there was a look of amusement playing across his face. "And what truth is that?" he asked, sneering.

"Dumbledore trusts me," Severus said.

The Dark Lord scoffed. "That is your truth? That is what has urged you to save the fool's life? I know the fool trusts you-you've certainly given him enough for him to do so."

"Precisely, My Lord. Everything that I have done...from the time you first fell up to this moment...everything has come together so perfectly. Albus Dumbledore trusts me...trusts me enough to call upon my name on the brink of death. Don't you see, My Lord," Severus said, his voice raised. "He trusts me to save his life. To save him. Out of everyone else in the castle, the staff-the Order of the Phoenix, even-he decided that the only one he trusts with his life is me, the so-called spy and ex-Death Eater. I have not only won over Dumbledore's trust, My Lord, but the man himself. And that...that control I have over him, that power I have over him is ten folds better than just killing him off. Do you realize now, My Lord, what we have achieved? We have led Dumbledore along so far and for so long that he has become to blind to who I am. Or, what I am. With this power, I can give you the school. I can give you anyone you want. Even Harry Potter."

Severus' voice shook as he finished but his figure appeared so confident that he felt a surge of energy rush through him. His words had finally reached the Dark Lord who was now smiling along with Severus. Gone was the fury and hatred in his expression, now there was a wide smile on his face.

"You are so sure you have him?"

Severus nodded.

"How am I ever supposed to trust you?"

"I am not asking you to trust me, My Lord. To ask you for that would be a disservice on my part. If anyone were ever to ask you for that, My Lord, then you must strike them as they stand because they are untruthful. I would beg that you never ask for my trust, but rather place faith in me to serve only you, My Lord. I have already given you my name, my soul and every part of me, My Lord. And so, if you were to ever doubt on me, I urge that you take all of it away from me. If you think for even a second that I am capable of betraying you, you may take my life, My Lord. But if you think that I am loyal to you, if you believe that I am of use to you, then allow me to make choices. Allow me to help you, My Lord. Please."

The Dark Lord did not speak for a long time. He stood there, staring at Severus.

"Do you wish to kill me?"

"My Lord?" Severus asked in confusion.

"I have punished you...I have been punishing you for many, many years. I have never shown faith in you...the second someone appears to me with news of your treachery, I will allow them to overturn my mind and my judgement. I have tortured you, hurt you...after all of that, do you ever wish me dead?"

Severus smiled, lifting his hand to place over his heart. "Everything I am and own belongs only to you. Every pain and hurt I feel is my price to pay for the failures I have brought you. For every drop of my blood that you have spilled, My Lord, I wish that it will be enough to earn your forgiveness."

"You are avoiding my question," the Dark Lord said coldly.

"I have wished for my death and for many others', but never yours, My Lord. When you were gone all those years ago, I allowed myself freedom that was not mine to give away. You must know, My Lord, that if you ever were to die, know that I must be dead before it should ever happen."

The Dark Lord appeared somewhat convinced by Severus. "You say Dumbledore was dying. Tell me what happened."

Severus allowed himself a moment to breathe. He was safe, he thought. "I do not know what happened for he was too ill to even speak, My Lord. But he carried a sort of injury on his body as though he had been scorched by something dark."

"And you cured him?" the Dark Lord asked again.

"I believe so, My Lord. I had given him my potion but have not had time to check upon him just yet."

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"My Lord?"

"That he called you. Why did you fail to mention this to me? Did you think I would not find out?"

"I apologize, My Lord. I feared it would have given you false impression of me had I reported it to you. I felt ashamed as it is to have gone against your word but as I said, if I could do it all over again, I surely would because we now know the power I have over Albus Dumbledore."

The Dark Lord gave another brief nod. "I hope tonight you have learned that there is nothing you can hide from me. I see all, know all, hear all. Whatever decision you make, whatever move or strategy you think is wise, you will tell me first or suffer my wrath. The next time Dumbledore asks for you, Severus, you will come to me first."

"Of course, My Lord."

His master turned away from him. "Tell Wormtail he is not to contact me again until I call for him."

Severus smirked, getting to his feet. His knees felt stiff and he wobbled a little as he stood. He looked positively dreadful, mud and dirt was splattered across his clothes. Severus wished in that moment that he was back at Hogwarts, where the warm bath would clean him and soothe the cuts and bruises on his skin. He breathed a sigh of relief as the Dark Lord turned away from him.

"Summon Yaxley here before you leave. I require his assistance on something."

"Yes, My Lord."

As Severus began to make his way back out of the forest, he heard a set of footsteps echo along next to him. Severus glanced next to him as a small gasp of horror escaped his lips.

"That was a close one, eh, Snivellus?" said Sirius Black with a broad grin.

Harry waited outside of Privet Drive, his wand drumming along the surface of the large luggage he was seated atop on restlessly. It was nearing midnight, he thought, as he searched the skies for any strange sight at all. Dumbledore's letter had been clear. The headmaster had written to inform him that he would be taking Harry away from the Dursleys and sending him off to the Weasleys' Burrow. Though Harry was excited to see Ron, Hermione and everyone else again, he could not help but feel a sense of anxiousness rolling around his chest.

He was glad that he would be with people he loved again but there was a part of him that dreaded seeing them again after what happened the previous year. He knew the others would want to talk about what had happened with Sirius, it was only expected, after all. After his godfather's death, everyone had maintained their distance around Harry. They had done their best not to speak Sirius' name, let alone what had happened to him. But it had been months now and they'd expect it'd be alright to talk about it now. Harry realized that his eyes were watering at the thought of Sirius and quickly brought the sleeve of his jacket to dab at his face.

Just as he did, there was a loud noise and Dumbledore appeared before him.

"Harry," Dumbledore said. Harry smiled, despite himself. It was nice to see a friendly face again, he thought as he jumped off his suitcase and waved towards Dumbledore.

"Professor Dumbledore, sir," he said.

"It's dangerous to be outside at this hour, Harry," said Dumbledore with a concerned look.

"Oh-right, er, sorry...it's just-I thought you said you'd be coming to get me and-"

"That does not mean you may wander around now, Harry. I ask that you respect what has been ordered of you," Dumbledore replied quite sternly. "I heard from Professor Snape that you were miles away from your aunt and uncle's when he arrived for you..."

Harry scowled. "I wasn't miles away-" he said, fuming. "I was close by-"

"But you will promise not to do so the next time you return here?" Dumbledore asked.

"Return, Professor? I thought-well, I'd just thought I turn seventeen next year...maybe I'll just get a place of my own away from here..."

Dumbledore gave him a sympathetic glance. "I am sorry to disappoint you, Harry, but I must ask for you to remain here until I say otherwise."

"Oh," said Harry with a blank stare. "Right. Yeah, I suppose...Uncle Vernon will be upset, I expect. When I told him I might move away, he'd asked me to start packing away my clothes right away."

As Harry watched, the headmaster's face darkened. "Let us go inside, Harry. I fear I must have a word or two with your guardians before we depart."

"You mean you want to talk to them? To Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon? They're asleep-and even if they were awake, I don't think they'd like to have a chat with anyone who's-er-"

"Not a Muggle?" Dumbledore asked pleasantly. "Come, Harry. We have much work to do."

Without another word, Dumbledore swept past him and towards the front door. The door threw open as he walked up to it and Harry followed, wondering how on earth he was going to handle the embarrassment when the Dursleys awakened to find another wizard in their home. He thought briefly of Snape and how he had offended both his aunt and uncle. They would not take too kindly to anyone else after their meeting with him. Thinking of Snape now, Harry turned towards Dumbledore, stopping him just as they reached the kitchen.

"Sir, the letter I wrote you-the dream I had-? Of Snape? Is he-?"

Dumbledore had a grave look upon his face. "Professor Snape is alright as he'll ever be, Harry. I suggest you put away what you saw."

"He didn't look fine," Harry pushed further. He remembered the pale face and shaking figure as Voldemort forced him under the Cruciatus Curse over and over again. 

"Harry," said Dumbledore in a kinder voice. "Professor Snape has been a spy for many, many years. What appears unbearable to you is but ordinary to him. He is a strong man and has been through much worse, as I'm sure you would agree. Though, he will be touched to hear the concern you have over him...I should tell Severus..."

"I just don't want anyone else to die because of me," said Harry as he stared at the ground. "Not even Snape."

Dumbledore smiled. "There will come a time, Harry," he said softly, "when you realize that people are not dying because of you, but for you. Once you understand the difference, you will see the world in an entirely different light."

"I've seen enough, Professor. Cedric...Sirius...my parents...it doesn't matter what they die for. If they can be saved, if their deaths can be prevented..."

"You are your parents' son," Dumbledore said, beaming. "James and Lily have left a gift upon the world with you, Harry. We should be so lucky."

Harry blushed, turning away from the headmaster. He looked down to see Dumbledore's black, withered hand. "Professor, is that-are you alright?" he asked rather alarmed.

Dumbledore lifted the hand out casually, turning it round so Harry had a good view of it. "Proof that even a man as old as I am is capable of making mistakes, I suppose. But I am alright, Harry."

"It's just...that dream I wrote to you about...Snape told Voldemort that you'd been really sick. He-he wasn't lying, then?"

"As I have told you, Harry, you must put these dreams out of your thoughts. I would have expected that after last year's attempt at possessing you, Harry, that Voldemort would have ceased this connection the two of you share."

"I-I don't think he knows, Professor," Harry replied. "Before, it was different. I could feel his emotions...I didn't just feel him...I was him. But it's different now. It's as though I'm watching everything from afar-"

Dumbledore lifted up a hand to stop him. "We will stop this conversation for now. We will have more time to discuss this later. Much more time. For now, let us speak to your aunt and uncle."

To his surprise, Dumbledore led Harry into the kitchen where Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia were seated by the table. They were in their night clothes and looked very cross indeed.

"This better be important," Aunt Petunia said as Uncle Vernon grumbled under his breath.

"How long have you been waiting here?" Harry asked.

Aunt Petunia glanced out the window where Harry's luggage sat, alone and abandoned by the front steps. "Since you packed your things and sat out there. He (she pointed to Dumbledore) had written to tell me he'd be coming to get you tonight."

"I expect you want to get this over with," Dumbledore interrupted, clicking his fingers so additional chairs appeared opposite his aunt and uncle. Dumbledore took his seat first and Harry followed, glancing at the adults in the room awkwardly. The headmaster snapped his fingers and this time glasses and a bottle of wine appeared in front of them. Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia shot each other worried glances before watching the bottle pour its contents into the floating glasses.

"I would offer our hosts a drink but I expect my invitation would only attract rejection," Dumbledore said as he passed one glass over to Harry. "Elf-made wine...I hear it is one of the finest..."

"What do you want with us?" Uncle Vernon asked, clearing his throat when Dumbledore turned to stare at him.

"Yes," he said as he sipped his drink. "First, we must discuss the will your godfather has left you with, Harry. Though his death was unexpected, Sirius had managed to draft one - he has left 12 Grimmauld Place in your name."

Harry felt his skin turn cold at the mention of Sirius' name.

"His godfather is dead?" asked Aunt Petunia in an uninterested voice.

"He's got a house?" Uncle Vernon asked greedily.

"The Order can have it. I don't care. I don't want it," Harry said stiffly. Sirius had hated that house and now he had left it to Harry, and Harry wanted nothing to do with the place. He knew the evil and hatred that had been raised in that house and could not imagine ever possibly using it as a home.

"I expected this answer, of course, but there is one thing that holds us back. Kreacher," said Dumbledore.

Harry felt a curse forming at the tip of his tongue. "The house-elf that ratted Sirius out? What about him?" he asked, his voice trembling in a sudden anger.

"Kreacher was owned by the Black family so when Sirius, the last living heir, passed it onto you, Harry, ownership of the elf may have been transferred onto you too. Given his betrayal, it might be safe to assume that Kreacher may be an untrustworthy resident of the home."

"What does that mean-? We've got to get rid of him?"

"Oh, heavens, no," said Dumbledore with a light chuckle. "There is a simple test to see Kreacher's loyalty. If you are his master, Harry, then all you ought to do is summon him here and he will have no choice but to obey."

Harry nodded, glancing uncomfortably at his aunt and uncle. "Kreacher!" he called and a moment later, an ugly-looking house-elf appeared in tattered robes. Kreacher began to scowl and curse at Harry and the Dursleys.

"Shut up," Harry ordered and the elf's mouth tightened. "What do we do with him? He betrayed Sirius and there's no telling what he'd do if the Order continued to use the place. Should I send him away?"

"That would be a wise thing to do, yes. Might I suggest you send him to work at Hogwarts? Perhaps Dobby and Winky might make for better company..."

Harry turned to Kreacher who looked as though he might burst into tears. "Kreacher, I order you to go to Hogwarts and help the house-elves there."

Kreacher nodded in a forced manner before vanishing before his eyes.

Dumbledore clapped his hands together. "Now, the Dursleys," he said. "We must first discuss the behavior you have shown towards Harry."

"Excuse me?" Uncle Vernon asked, spluttering and turning red.

"You have treated him with abandon and neglect. He has grown up in a home, both unloved and uncared for. I had expected that when I'd left him with you...your sister's only child...that you might have showed him some kindness, at least."

"We took him in!" Aunt Petunia spat bitterly. "We let him stay in our home, under our roof after Lily went and got herself killed! He ate our food, wore our clothes!"

"Ought I shower you with praises for that?" Dumbledore asked rather coldly. "Or a pat on the back, perhaps?"

"You will not speak to us in that manner! I have been patient-“

”Vernon-“ Aunt Petunia began but Uncle Vernon’s bellows quieted her down.

”YOU-“ he said, wagging a sausage-like finger at Dumbledore, “AND YOUR PEOPLE HAVE BROUGHT ENOUGH VIOLENCE AND DISGRACE INTO OUR LIVES! CURSING DUDLEY WITH YOUR MAGIC-DAMAGING OUR PROPERTY-SENDING THAT SNAPE FELLOW DOWN HERE TO SNOOP ON US AND NOW…NOW YOU CLAIM US RAISING THIS BOY HAS NOT BEEN UP TO YOUR STANDARDS? JUST WHO DO YOU ALL THINK YOU ARE?”

Harry and Aunt Petunia exchanged worried glances as Uncle Vernon began to pant, but Dumbledore remained calm. The wine and glasses disappeared as Dumbledore got to his feet. When he spoke, he looked only at Aunt Petunia.

“She was your sister,” he said. “And you should have cared for him as if he were your own. You know she would have if it had been your son that had been orphaned by such a tragedy.”

”I-I…” Aunt Petunia suddenly burst into tears, hiding her face behind her hands. Seeing his wife upset, Uncle Vernon began to rub circles on her back.

”Is that why you’ve come here? To offend and upset us?”

”I have come here to inform you why I had left Harry in your care for so long. Had it been my choice, he would have grown up among people who would have shown him much kindness and love. But it so happened that when Lily sacrificed herself for her son, she cast a protection around Harry. It is the reason why the man who murdered Lily and James could not do the same to Harry,” Dumbledore said.

”But what does that have to do-“

”Just…be quiet, Vernon. Please,” Aunt Petunia said. She had stopped her sobbing, her face was now pale as Dumbledore recounted the truth of her sister’s death.

”The protection-sealed by Lily’s blood-has kept Harry safe all this time. To keep the protection intact, he had to be given to a blood relative and it was crucial he referred to this place as his home. As long as these conditions were met, I would be able to extend the protective enchantments and keep Harry safe. It was also why many of us expressed our concerns that Harry had been allowed to wander around outside of the barriers.”

Harry had the decency to look away.

”So why tell us this now?” Aunt Petunia asked.

”When Harry comes of age next year-“

”Not next year,” said Aunt Petunia. “He doesn’t turn eighteen for another two years.”

Dumbledore smiled. “In the Wizarding World, seventeen is when one embraces adulthood. So when he turns seventeen next year, my protections will break and dissipate-and that means Harry will be at risk. My wish is that this place remains his home for that year, at least. And that will not be possible if he is turned away. This is my request: next year, when Harry returns, I wish for him to be able to remain here-at least until it is safe enough for him to be moved elsewhere. That is and will be the last thing I shall ever ask of you both and I hope you will consider it.”

His aunt and uncle were quiet, and Harry was sure they were simply processing everything they had been told up to now.

”Mum? Dad?”

Everyone turned at the same time to see Dudley posted in the hallway, his face shrunk and frightened.

”Dudders!” Aunt Petunia cried, jumping to her feet. “How long have you been standing there?”

”The man who killed Harry’s mum and dad…will he come after us too?” Dudley asked as he looked over to Dumbledore.

”He will try anything to get to Harry and that might mean he’d do it through you as well. But I assure you, I would never allow any harm to befall upon any of you. Not while I’m still alive. Now, come Harry, we must leave at once. There is plenty other work that must be done.”

”What-you’re leaving? You’re leaving us here after telling us that madman might come after us? How do we know he won’t just walk in and do us in like he did his parents?” Uncle Vernon interjected, bringing his fists down onto the table.

”As of now, you are in no immediate danger. I have placed protective enchantments around here that will keep you safe. I have also instructed some of my men and women to watch over your family outside of your home. As I’ve said, you’re perfectly safe.”

Though the Dursleys did not appear comforted by Dumbledore’s words, they could not do or say anything else. They felt as though they had insulted him far too much to demand anything else of him.

”Farewell, Dursleys,” Dumbledore said without another glance.

”Er, bye,” said Harry, offering them a weak wave before he caught up with the headmaster outside.

“Are we heading to the Burrows?” Harry asked, tugging on his forgotten luggage but Dumbledore had stopped him.

”We will send these to the Weasleys first. But you and I will not be headed there just yet,” Dumbledore said, his eyes twinkling.

“We’re going somewhere else?” asked Harry.

”The letter you wrote me…of the dream you had. After Severus left, Voldemort was approached by Yaxley,” Dumbledore said.

”Yeah,” Harry said with a nod. “Said something about finding someone called H-“

”-Horace Slughorn, yes, precisely.”

”Who’s he?” Harry asked, forcing himself to remember if he’d ever heard of the name before.

”An old acquaintance of mine. I think it’s time we paid him a visit. Shall we?”

Dumbledore had extended an arm out to Harry. “You’ve Disapparated before?”

”Snape took me.”

”And how was it?” Dumbledore asked with a sly smile.

”Awful.”

Dhmbledore laughed. ”I’ll do my best to let you have a more pleasant experience, I suppose.”

Harry grinned, looping his arm around Dumbledore. He closed his eyes and felt a strange tingling over his face before he heard a loud crack! sound.

Chapter Text

For the second time in his life, Harry  perched by the side of the road and retched while Dumbledore stood apart from him, watching with amusement. 

"I take it you did not enjoy Apparition as I thought you might have," he said.

Harry straightened up, adjusting his glasses which was threatening to fall off his face. He turned to Dumbledore with a weak shake of his head. "No, sir."

"That's alright, Harry. You'll get used to it soon enough. Come," Dumbledore replied reassuringly, heading towards the pathway that led to the little village below. They walked together downhill, with Harry setting his sights upon the rows of empty houses scattered across from them. There was no sign of life in the village save for a rather large inn that stood in the center of it all. A few men were outside, rubbing their arms together to keep warm as they let out occasional shouts of drunken laughter. A clock somewhere nearby chimed and as Harry turned towards it, he realized how late it truly was.

Dumbledore did not speak the entire time as they walked and Harry found every moment passing to be more and more awkward. He wracked his brains for something to say but it appeared Dumbledore had beaten him to it.

"Your scar, Harry...has it been hurting at all?"

Harry's hand moved as if by instinct to trace the lightning-shaped scar across his forehead. "No, sir, it hasn't. I've been wondering about it, actually. I'd thought that with him getting more powerful...and with the Ministry knowing he’s really back now…I’d just thought he’d have tried to do worse things with the connection we share by now.”

When Harry looked to Dumbledore, he was taken aback to see the headmaster wearing a very satisfied expression on his face. "It does not quite come as a surprise to me. Last year, Harry, when he possessed you, Lord Voldemort appeared to understand the dangers of allowing your minds to connect. His failure to completely take possession of you frightened him…I believe he realized the true extent of power you had over him at that moment. You were able to look into his mind, see his thoughts and memories and even though he was in control for most of those times, I think it greatly worries him. And with the ongoing war, he will want to keep all matters private now. Though, from the look of things, it appears you are still able to access some parts of him...I must admit it has me curious as to how and why..."

"Yeah, the letter I wrote you...the one of Snape and the other Death Eater-I think his name was called Yaxley…”

"Yes, you spoke of the dream you had…and you are absolutely sure you witnessed all of this away from Voldemort? You are sure you were not attached to him as you were last year?"

Harry nodded. "The other times...they were different. I could feel everything that he was feeling. Anger. Pain. Darkness. But now-now, it's sort of looking through a window and seeing everything happen as it is. I didn't know what Voldemort was thinking exactly...I just saw whatever was happening between him and Snape.”

Dumbledore did not speak for a moment. Harry quickly took advantage of the silence to speak.

"Professor, that dream…it's just...when Snape and Voldemort were talking, he said something about how you'd gotten hurt. And your hand...er...was he telling the truth?" 

"He was. Though, thanks to Severus’ help, I am feeling much better," Dumbledore said as he flexed the stiff fingers on his darkened hand.

But Harry was not quite done. "There was something else, too. Something I didn't put in the letter."

"Oh?" Dumbledore asked calmly. 

"Voldemort and Snape were talking about  his loyalty and...well..."

"Yes?"

"They were talking about killing you, sir," Harry finished weakly.

Dumbledore stopped in his tracks and glanced over to Harry. His worried expression frightened Harry a little.

"Voldemort wanted Professor Snape to kill me?" Dumbledore asked.

"Yes, I think."

"You think? Or you know? We must be precise about these things, Harry."

Harry shook his head frantically. "I-I don't know. Snape said something about Draco ...and then Voldemort said he'd instructed Snape to do it-killing you, I mean-or something like that-"

"Draco? Draco Malfoy?"

Harry gave another nod. Dumbledore stared ahead into the dark before he smiled wistfully. Without another word, he carried on walking. Harry began to jog lightly to keep up with the older man.

"Sir? You're not going to do something about it?"

"What do you expect me to do, Harry? Shall I summon Professor Snape here and ask if he is plotting my murder as we speak?" he asked cheerily.

"So you're just going to ignore it? And Malfoy? What about him?"

"What about him, Harry?"

In that moment, Harry wanted to whip his wand out so he could whack it onto the old man's head. Dumbledore was an extremely clever man and the fact that he did not appear to see the entire picture was turning Harry mad. He was sure that Ron and Hermione would both agree with him about his theory but with Dumbledore less than acknowledging it, he was suddenly unsure of himself. 

"His father got himself landed in Azkaban last year, Professor."

"I am aware."

"Because he was a Death Eater."

"Another fact," Dumbledore replied, "that I am already aware of."

"You don't think Malfoy would've wanted to avenge his dad?"

"What exactly are you implying, Harry?"

"I think Malfoy's become a Death Eater and he and Snape might be planning to kill you."

Dumbledore stopped yet again to regard Harry, this time rather coldly too. "I must ask that you not throw accusations around so simply and carelessly, Harry. Accusations which implicate not only a student of the school but also a staff whom has shown his loyalty to me time and time again. I will not tolerate such behavior, and especially not from you."

"But, sir, Snape wasn't lying about you getting hurt," Harry replied, exasperated. "And if he wasn't lying about that, then he wouldn't be lying about this-"

"I trust Severus Snape completely," said Dumbledore. "And even if he were to attempt these things you accuse him of, what makes you think he would be successful, Harry? Do you really think so little of me that a mere student and school staff would be able to incapacitate me?"

Harry had grown silent, feeling his cheeks turn red now. Now that he thought about it, he realized Dumbledore was right. He was an extremely powerful wizard that even Voldemort had failed to defeat. There was no way that Snape nor Draco could ever empower him, he thought.

"Death threats are not new to me, Harry," Dumbledore said with more gentleness now. "I have survived evil far worse than what Voldemort shown thus far. There have been more attempts at my life, even more so than you yourself. But there is a reason why they have been nothing but attempts.”

"Sir?" Harry asked in a small voice.

”Because I am who I am. Do not mistaken my age for weakness. I have enormous strength and power, and I shall not hesitate to use it if I must. No matter whom I may have to use it against me. No one can kill me, Harry, not unless I permit it. Until that time comes, you must not worry for me, do you understand?”

"Yes, sir," Harry said once more, his voice reflecting the awe he felt for the older man. "But you'll be careful, won't you? Around Snape?"

"There is another thing I must discuss with you about your dream," Dumbledore said, cutting across him. "In the letter you wrote about Voldemort's conversation with the man named Yaxley."

Harry nodded once.

"That particular conversation is why we are here tonight, Harry."

"And where is that exactly? Sir?"

"This Harry," Dumbledore said, motioning towards the village around them, "is the charming little end of Budleigh Babberton. You said Voldemort had asked the Death Eater to locate a man named Horace Slughorn, yes?"

"Yes, sir. Said he needed to get information from him...but he didn't say what it was."

"And I wouldn't have expected him to. You see, Harry, long ago, Horace Slughorn was a teacher at Hogwarts. He retired shortly after Voldemort first fell and has been off-radar since."

"Really?" Harry asked. "Why?"

Dumbledore shrugged lightly, though Harry had the feeling he was lying. "It is just a coincidence, you see, that we are yet again short of a staff this year. And with Voldemort hunting dear old Slughorn down, I think it best if we offered him to work at Hogwarts like old times, don't you think?

"I suppose," Harry replied. "But, er, how could I help you with this, Professor?"

"Oh, I think we'll find a use for you," Dumbledore replied vaguely. "Left here, now."

They had turned into a steep, narrow street now. The rows of houses that were laid out before them reminded Harry of Privet Drive. The air was cold, the kind that stung if they stayed in one spot for too long. Harry found himself thinking about Dementors and in his state of worry, reached over to grasp his wand out in front of him.

"Sir? Will you tell me what happened to your hand?" Harry asked as silence set in-between them again.

Dumbledore gave a light chuckle. "It is a thrilling story-albeit a long one, much too long to be shared now. Perhaps when we meet back at the castle, Harry."

As they walked, Harry began to poke and pry about the different news he'd heard while he'd been away at Privet Drive. Dumbledore patiently listened to all of his queries and answered them as fully as he could. He had also inquired about his visit to Abbott's, making sure to emphasize his concern over what she'd said about Snape.

"She was really nice. Took a look at my memories and said it wasn't really necessary for me to see her. I think she said the Boggart hadn't managed to put its poison in me like it did with Sn-Professor Snape."

"But she thinks it is reversible, surely? The poison?"

Harry shrugged. "She talked about it with him separately, I think. But he did agree to see her again for their meetings...I reckon it'll be fine."

"Yes," Dumbledore murmured quietly. "Oh dear. Oh dear, dear, dear."

Alarmed, Harry looked up to see the small stone house before them. For a brief moment, he did not realize what had happened. When he brought his wand over, lighting it so it shone around the house, his heart sank. The small fence of the tiny house was hanging off its hinges.

Dumbledore stopped Harry, glancing around at the deserted streets. "Wand out and follow me," he commanded.

Severus appeared at Malfoy Manor, doing his best to contain himself. He was shaking all over and could barely utter a word after that encounter with the Dark Lord. For the first time in years, Severus did not think of anything at all. He let his mind remain completely blank as he rapped on the door. He continued to stay silent when Narcissa Malfoy opened the door, took a look at him and then led him into the kitchen he had grown so fond of. She dragged a chair and laid it out so it was opposite the window  facing the beautiful garden outside, and then made him sit there while she crouched by his feet. Severus did not speak as he stared out the window at the bright moon outside that stood so straight, so strong.

"Severus, are you alright?" she asked, her hands coming to lay over his. It was all it took, the softness of her voice and her fingers, for him to crumble.

He began to break into shallow breaths, his head crashing into her shoulders as he bent down towards her. Narcisa gripped him against her tightly, her fingers clawing into his back now as he breathed her in. His body started to shake and Narcissa, whom had grown familiar from all of the times Lucius had returned to her in a similar state, began to soothe him by tracing light circles on his back.

He felt his arms snake round to her waist and grip it with such desperation and harshness that she let out a cry of discomfort.

"I-I don't-sorry-" he whispered frantically when she did not falter.

"It's alright," she said, her voice full of kindness and pity. "Whatever he did to you, it's over. You're alive and you're here."

Severus let out a horrible sob as the seizure gripped at him again. He felt his own fingers digging into Narcissa's soft skin like it had into the ground when the Dark Lord had him at his mercy. He wanted more than anything to release himself from her hold, to untangle her away from all of this pain that was seizing at him from all over. But he had always been a weak and selfish man. He could never endure his ugliness and his pain on his own. It was always either Poppy or Minerva or Narcissa. Yet they, though had seen him show such vulnerability and weakness, had never used it against him. He suspected it was for this reason that he continued to return to them, continued to show them what he was being put through.

"I wish-" he said, gritting his teeth. "I were-dead."

He felt Narcissa shake her head against him. "No," she said. "It'll pass, Severus. It always does."

She was right, he thought as he felt the pain subside. The seizures never lasted too long. His bodies had become so used to them that it had forced itself to heal whenever it happened.

As he finally relaxed, Severus came to the realization of where he was and who he was with. He tore away from her, watching  the way her face fell. He leaned back against the chair and with trembling fingers, tightened his collar around his neck. He felt himself flush, cursing himself for having given in to his weakness yet again.

"You-you're not well, Severus," she said in a crestfallen tone. "Was it the Dark Lord? Did he punish you?"

Severus gave a brief nod, noting the concern in her voice.

"Does it have to do with whatever he's asked of Draco?"

It was in this moment that Severus’ ugliness began to claw away at his insides. There was a wicked voice in his head now, whispering truths he wouldn’t have otherwise entertained. She doesn’t care about you, said the voice. She’s pretending because she thinks he knows what Draco is up to. She just wants to know if this mistake was going to affect her precious son in any way.

"I don't know what you're talking about," Severus said rather quietly.

"Don't you?" Narcissa snapped. "He won't tell me-"

"-and it's for good reason. He is not allowed to."

"That's not why!" she cried. "He won't tell me because he is too frightened! He thinks-he thinks if I know, then I might do something terrible!"

"Like what?" Severus asked. "You will go to the Dark Lord? You will defy him?"

"If that's what it takes," she said angrily.

"You have gone mad," Severus said, standing up. She followed, though she maintained her distance.

"You return here-in a state worse than dead and you will disagree with me? After everything he's done to you, you will defend him?"

Severus shook his head, raising his index finger towards her threateningly. "Do not say such things."

Narcissa had suddenly grown defiant. "I will speak as I wish-who are you to tell me not to-and in my own house? Tell me-what has the Dark Lord asked of my son?"

"Listen to me, Narcissa," he said, his voice becoming increasingly waspish. "You must leave this be. Whatever he has asked of Draco, you must trust he will accomplish it. You must not intrude upon the Dark Lord's orders or he will-"

"-kill me?" Narcissa asked, smiling. "I do not fear death! And I do not fear the Dark Lord! And if he threatens my son, I shall kill him first!”

He strode over towards her, gripping her hard as she swayed. "He will destroy your family. I have seen the atrocities and violence he has brought upon his his enemies. And he does not take kindly to traitors-you have seen what has happened to Karkaroff, haven’t you? Narcissa, please, you must listen to me. I know what he has asked of Draco. It is not an easy task but...but you must trust it will be done."

"Tell me, then. Tell me what he must do, Severus," she pleaded. "Please."

But Severus was just as stubborn as she was. This was not his truth to share. Already, he had made an enemy of Draco Malfoy by telling Narcissa that he had taken his Mark. If he were ever to gain Draco’s trust, he had to make Narcissa his enemy. He couldn't lead her on this path if he wanted to save both of them. He alone knew the extent a mother would go through to save her son and there was no question that Narcissa Malfoy would go to the ends of the earth for hers. If she did anything reckless at all, everything he had planned with Dumbledore would fail. And above everything else, above everyone else, he couldn't fail Dumbledore.

"It is better if you do not know. If Draco wishes to share it with you, however, I cannot stop him. But you must promise me, Narcissa, if you ever learn what it is he must do that you will come to see me first. Only me and no one else. Will you do that for me? I will…I will try to help…”

There was no answer from  Narcissa. Instead, she had approached him with sudden fervor that Severus was not able to back away. She had latched her lips onto hers, holding onto him for dear life as she kissed him. Severus felt his eyes close and his heart stop at the unexpected contact but he was not lenient with her. Swiftly, he pulled her away from him, regretting his choice the moment that her lips left his mouth. Narcissa's eyes roved over his face as if awaiting an explanation but Severus simply shook his head.

"This must stop, too," he said, his heart filled with a sudden heaviness. "I have allowed this to go on for too long…”

"You said you wouldn't," she said sharply.

"What?"

Narcissa's eyes had grown hard as she gazed at him. "You said you wouldn't say what you didn't mean. Did you forget?"

Severus gave her a helpless look. "But I do mean it," he said softly. "This isn't right, Narcissa."

"Why?" she asked lunging towards him. "Because of Lucius? Because you feel guilty that you are taking advantage of a fragile woman? Because you think a woman whose husband is imprisoned has no right to love another?"

He sneered. "You don't love me. You never did. This-this thing-this is not love."

It was her turn to sneer now. "And you know all about love, do you?"

"You want to use me," he said in an accusatory tone. "You think if you've got me in your pocket, you won't have to worry about Draco. I am, after all, your dog on a leash, am I not? All you have to do is weep and beg and tell me pretty words and I'll come running-"

There was a white flash and an unpleasant sound in the air. Severus gripped the side of his face as Narcissa stared at him with a wild look in her eyes, her hand raised mid-air. Severus dropped his hand as the shape of her palm marked his cheek.

"Do you really think so little of me?" she asked, her eyes full of tears. "After everything?"

There were many nights after this when Severus wished he had not said anything at all, that it would have been better if he had simply walked away from her that night. But he was a cruel man, and being cruel came to him almost as naturally as his knack for potions and the Dark Arts. Rather than say nothing, in his moment of anger and hurt, he lashed out.

"Whatever this was, it wasn't real. I used you for my own gains as much as you did me. You think I'd want anything to do with your pathetic little family after that stunt your husband pulled?"

She did not speak anything at all after that. As Severus swept out of the kitchen and towards the entrance, he heard Narcissa break into tears. In that moment, he wanted nothing more than to be back with her, holding her close to him and telling her that he hadn't meant what he had said. He'd wanted to tell her that he'd only been cruel because he had felt used by her and so many others. He'd wanted to tell her that he couldn't trust anyone after what had happened with Lily. He wanted more than anything to believe that Narcissa did love him and that she did truly care for him but it was useless. In a year, he would be labelled a traitor by either one side. And if somehow, by chance or luck, that his true allegiance came to light, then it would mean that Narcissa would learn the truth of his betrayal. He did not think he could bear to witness her heartbreak all over again.

It was for the best, he thought as he strode out through the gardens.

"Bit dramatic, even for you," Black said next to him.

Severus turned round in surprise before he became sullen once more. "You again," he said simply.

Black made an offended expression. "Won't hurt to be nice, you know," Black chided. "After that little incident, it seems I'm the only friend you've got."

Severus scoffed. "You're not even real."

"You're a bit of a bastard, anyone tell you that?"

"Will you just go away? I want to be alone."

Black laughed. "Bit hard to do that when there's poison going up into your head and making you hallucinate the last guy you'd ever want to see. It's kind of funny though, isn't it?"

"What is?" Severus asked in an irritated voice.

"That out of everyone else you could have conjured up, it had to be me."

"You think I wanted to see you?" Severus asked rather disgustedly. 

"I dunno," Black replied, stretching and yawning, "maybe you missed me."

Severus rolled his eyes. "I won't ask again, Black. Go away. I need to think."

"And I won't tell you again, Snape, I can't. Maybe if you tell Abbott-"

"-I am not going to Abbott. Not yet, anyway. There's still too much to be done-"

"-you've got a really exciting life, haven't you? Between being a spy and having an affair, I mean..."

"That's none of your concern, Black."

"And to think...Dumbledore had me locked up in my mother's house for months-"

"-will you stop behaving as if you were Black? You're just a figment of my-"

"-if you say imagination, Snivellus-"

"-imagination-"

"-well, you've done it. You've annoyed me into leaving, Snape. Until next time, I suppose!"

To his relief, Black's figure vanished from next to him. Alone at last with his thoughts, Severus recalled yet again Narcissa's crushed expression as he Apparated back to Spinner's End.

Chapter Text

Harry sat on the armchair that had just several minutes ago looked as though someone had ripped through it. He shifted in seat slightly, fingers tracing where a large gash had been across the fabric before Dumbledore had mended it. He looked up to see the balding man with a walrus-like moustache glancing back and forth between Harry and the bathroom door, no doubt nervous and awkward with Dumbledore no longer bridging the gap between them. The man Dumbledore had called Slughorn finally sighed with exasperation before standing up from his own seat.

"So, Potter, what year are you in?" he asked, striding towards a cabinet. He had his back to Harry so it was hard to tell what he was doing but the clinking of glasses was clear enough that the man had went to set himself up with a drink. 

"I'll be in my sixth year when term starts," Harry replied, adjusting his glasses for the sake of keeping busy. Like Slughorn, he also kept looking towards the bathroom, hoping Dumbledore would come out of there already so they could be on their way. When they had first entered through here, the entire house looked as though a storm had gone through it. The tables had been overturned, couches ripped and fresh blood smeared all over the wallpapers. Harry had anticipated an attack but when Dumbledore had gone straight for the armchair in the middle of the room, he was taken aback to see Slughorn emerge from there. He'd told Dumbledore that he was hiding away from Death Eaters, though what they would want to do with him Harry did not know. It wasn't that Slughorn didn't look like a proper wizard; he had watched both Slughorn and Dumbledore fix the inside of the house so it looked as it was untouched. Rather, it was the way the man acted around both Harry and Dumbledore. Since they'd sat down, Slughorn had looked out of sorts. He could not sit still, his eyes never met with neither Dumbledore or Harry - it seemed as though Slughorn was afraid of everyone and everything in front of him. From Slughorn's face alone, Harry had assumed the man was as harmless as a rock. He could not fathom why Death Eaters would ever be after him, let alone why Voldemort was interested in capturing him.

"Almost to the end, then," Slughorn finally replied, returning with a filled wine glass in hand. He sat down, the drink splashing out onto his clothes but Slughorn appeared unbothered.

"Yes, sir," Harry said awkwardly. "Dumbledore said you used to teach at Hogwarts?"

Slughorn paused before taking another sip, his expression twisting at the mention of the school. "Yes, yes, but that was a long time ago. It was a stable job and certainly provided me with...certain benefits...but it had taken a great toll on me…things were much worse than they are now, believe you me. After months of deliberating, I finally sent in my resignation...it was in 1981 I believe...just after Halloween...yes..."

"That was right about the time my parents were murdered," Harry blurted before kicking himself. "Er, sorry, I didn't mean-"

"Oh, yes, that's right," Slughorn replied rather sadly now. His fingers uncurled from the bottom of the glass, leaving it so it floated mid-air. Harry watched with amusement at the glass bobbling lightly mid-air. "Their deaths were the last straw for me..."

Harry looked up at Slughorn. The older man smiled lightly at Harry's surprise.

"You look like him...James. Spitting image, if you'd believe me. But your eyes, you have-"

"-my mother's eyes, yeah."

Slughorn gave a small chuckle. "I expect you're tired of hearing it by now. She was a favorite of mine...brilliant in everything she did...I'd have liked her in my House-"

"-you were head of house?"

"Slytherin," said Slughorn, his chest protruding out in a moment of vanity. Seeing the dejected look on Harry's face, however, he faltered. "Oh, now, you mustn't look at me like that! I've had such great students from that House-some of them have gone on to achieve great things in life."

Harry blinked. "Like Voldemort, you mean?"

Slughorn jumped to his feet, hissing at the mention of Voldemort's name. "You shouldn't use that name, boy!"

"I'm not afraid of him, sir. And you shouldn't be either."

There was another pause on Slughorn's part before he gave a lengthy sigh. He shook his head and to Harry's surprise, he smiled. "You're exactly like her, you know. Your mother...she wouldn’t stand for my nonsense either. Anytime I said something she didn’t approve of, she’d tell me off right then and there. Hard to find someone like that these days. She wasn’t afraid of anyone or anything. Such a shame...what happened to her...but I suppose in times like these, it is always the good that die young, isn't it? You must have heard about Sirius Black - he was a close pal of your father when they were at school - he was all over the papers just recently. Apparently the Ministry had no idea that they’d convicted the wrong man, can you believe that? A real pity he had to die before his name was cleared…he had a brother too, you know. Regulus Black...he was a good student, not as clever or charming as his older brother - sometimes I wish I'd gotten both of them, it'd have been nicer to have a complete set instead of just the one...but Sirius and James had been attached at the hip since they'd met. I’d like to think that if they hadn't met, Sirius would have ended up in my House."

Slughorn spoke of Sirius' Sorting in such a wistful and regretful way that Harry could not help but wonder about the man's motivations. He had shown less of a reaction to Sirius' wrongful imprisonment than he had of the fact that Sirius had ended up in Gryffindor. The way Slughorn spoke would make anyone think that the man thought of his students as collections and trophies than they were people.

"At least they're together now," Harry said quietly.

"Yes, at least there's that," Slughorn replied. "Though their deaths mean yet another pureblood family gone extinct...there's no one left from your father's side of the family either, is there? And your mother was a Muggle-born-"

"And that would be a problem, would it?" Harry asked, more forcefully this time.

Slughorn shook his head furtively. "Of course it wouldn't! I just meant...you must not think of me as being prejudiced, Harry. You have no idea-your mother...when I discovered she was Muggleborn, I couldn't believe-the knowledge of magic she had..."

"One of my best friends is a Muggleborn," said Harry defensively. "And she's the best in our year."

"Funny how that sometimes happens," Slughorn said with a small smile.

"Not really," said Harry.

"There you go again with that tone of yours, Mr. Potter. I assure you I bear no I’ll will against Muggleborns! It's just unexpected...why after your mother left, Dirk Cresswell came to replace her brilliance with his own and he was a Muggleborn too! Look-"

Slughorn jumped out of his seat and waddled towards a dresser in the other end of the room. Harry glanced towards the bathroom, decided Dumbledore was not coming out of there soon, and followed after Slughorn. As he neared the cabinet, he realized that there were photographs and objects cluttering the surface and walls. Moving images had been plastered or stuck into photo frames, covering the entire dresser from top to bottom. Slughorn pointed to a picture of him and a tall blonde boy side-by side. "Dirk Creswell, Head of the Goblin Liaison Office. It's been years since we've met but he still keeps me updated on everything that happens at Gringotts!"

His smile grew even wider as he pointed to random pictures on the walls. "You recognize him, don't you? Barnabas Cuffe, editor of the Daily Prophet - sends me an early copy before anyone else. And that there is Ambrosius Flume, from Honeydukes - a hamper every birthday, and all because I was able to give him an introduction to Ciceron Harkiss, who gave him his first job! And at the back - you'll see her if you just crane your neck - that's Gwenog Jones, who of course captains the Holyhead harpies...people are always astonished to hear I'm on first-name terms with the harpies, and free tickets whenever I want them!"

"And all these people know where to find you to send you stuff?" Harry asked, wondering how on earth the man had evaded capture for this long. If his students knew where to find him, it wouldn't take the Death Eaters very long before they discovered him as well.

"I haven't kept in touch with them for a year now," Slughorn replied with a slight dejection in his voice. "It has been difficult but I've managed. It's a matter of life and death now, isn't it?"

Harry had the feeling that Slughorn had wanted to continue his thought but a familiar face had grabbed his attention. Harry reached out to grab a photo frame that had been shoved away to the side, its sides captured in dust and grime. He felt his heart almost leap out of his chest at the sight of the smiling red-haired woman in the center of the photo. His mother looked to be no younger than fourteen or fifteen. Harry felt himself smile at the sight of his mother so happy and carefree.

”An odd pair, they were,” said Slughorn wiggling his brows. Harry looked back at the image, only realizing now that his mother had her arm looped around the shoulder of a bony, sallow-looking boy with hair that hung like curtains over his face.

"Is that-Snape-?" Harry asked in disbelief. His fingers traced the image of his mother, feeling sick and disgust that she was in such close proximity with Snape.

”Severus Snape, Slytherin House. He was quite intelligent too, knew things far beyond his peers. But, alas, he was a very difficult boy…always distracted or uninterested…he was the complete opposite of your mother, in fact. It’s a wonder they got along so well, isn’t it?”

Slughorn’s voice was a blur as Harry kept his eyes trained on the two moving figures in the frame. Snape was much taller than Lily and he had stopped a little low so she could place her arm comfortably around his neck. Lily had a mischievous grin plastered across her face as she glanced over to the teenage Snape who looked so out of place there. Still, as she swung her arm so he staggered slightly, a wiry smile broke out from his face. This image continued to move through a loop, as though they were trapped there forever. The taste of bile in Harry's mouth became more evident the longer he stared at the photo.

“My mum and Snape…were friends?” Harry asked in disbelief.

”They were no Sirius and James,” Slughorn said with a cackle. “But they did work together a lot of the time now that I think about it...it's no wonder they were often top in the class. Combined brains make for much better success, academically speaking."

But Harry was not listening. He could not fathom any of this, it was as though someone had poured a bucket of cold water over his head. Snape and his mum. It was then he recalled the incident from last year when he'd been caught snooping into Snape's memories in the pensive. The image of teenage Snape being hung upside down while his father and his friends laughed at his humiliation was still fresh in his mind. He had thought, back then when his mother had come to Snape's aid, that she had been standing up to her father. It appeared now that perhaps her aggressive nature was born out of protectiveness over Snape instead. Though, in that same memory, Harry remembered quite vividly how Snape had referred to his mother as a Mudblood. If they really had been as close as Slughorn had suggested, there was no way that word would have ever come out of Snape's mouth let alone used on Lily. He shook his head quietly.

"It doesn't make any sense," he said. "No one ever told me they knew each other."

"Now, that's a surprise, isn't it? Loads of people knew about them - caused quite the uproar, too. I'd have expected Severus to tell you about it at least...he's still teaching there, isn't he?"

Harry looked up with a sullen expression. "Yeah, I think he's the last person who'd tell me anything about anything. He hates me."

Slughorn laughed. "That's to do with your father, I suppose. They didn't get along well."

Harry looked down once more at the frame. "He's not in here. Neither is Sirius."

"Ah, well, the Slug Club was reserved only for the best students and your father and Sirius were quite the troublemakers back in the day..."

"The Slug Club?" Harry asked.

"It's an old tradition," Slughorn replied rather evasively. "But, look here, Regulus was a member too-"

Slughorn moved Harry's attention away from his mother and Snape, directing it towards another pale-faced boy with shoulder length hair. Regulus resembled Sirius, if slightly. He had the same brows and sharp features on his face. But there was a slight darkness in Regulus' features that had evaded his brother's. His eyes were glazed and hollow, as though all light from it had been removed. It reminded Harry of Snape's eyes; dark tunnels that had no sign of life to them.

"He looks young," Harry said. "They all do. How old were they?"

"Regulus was in his second year, I believe. Which meant...your mother would have been in her fourth year when this picture was taken. I'd been asking her since her first year to attend but she was adamant about it - said she wouldn't participate in favoritism disguised as a membership," Slughorn replied, glancing at his mother in fondness. "But she accepted in the end-I'm relentless, you see. And then I'd gotten her to convince Severus as well. Regulus, on the other hand, was much easier to persuade...I think he was lonely and in desperate need of company. When I asked, he immediately accepted."

"What happened to him?" asked Harry. Sirius had talked about Regulus once before; his brother had joined the Death Eaters after leaving Hogwarts and had regretted it not too soon after. Sirius also thought that his brother had been killed though there hadn't ever been any proof of it.

"Fell in with the wrong sort, didn't he?" Slughorn said, shaking his head. "By the time he realized what he'd done...sometimes there are things you cannot come back from..."

"Forgive me, sir, but I think that's where you're wrong."

Slughorn looked up at Harry, brows raised. "You think a person should be allowed a second chance?"

"Dumbledore thinks so," Harry replied. "And I don't think Dumbledore's ever been wrong."

"You hold such trust in him, don't you?" asked Slughorn wearily. "Dumbledore has made mistakes too, boy. You may think that he is incapable of making mistakes but at the end of things, he is still a man. And death is inevitable. He will make you promises to keep you safe, to keep you alive and protected but when death comes, not even Dumbledore can put a stop to it."

"Is that why you're refusing his offer to return to Hogwarts? You're afraid that you might get killed there?"

"Hogwarts is the safest place in the world and I know no harm shall fall upon me while I am there. It is not the school's protection I doubt but Dumbledore's. I fear...I fear that Dumbledore intentions with me go beyond the scope of teaching."

"You don't have to be in the Order if you're a teacher, you know. There's loads of teachers at Hogwarts who aren't involved with the Order and none of them have ever been killed-except for Quirrell but seeing he was working with Voldemort (Slughorn squawked), he deserved what he got," Harry finished rather roughly. "And you're forgetting that Dumbledore's going to be at Hogwarts all the time. The others that died, my parents included, weren't with him when they were attacked and killed. The only reason he got through to my parents was because they were betrayed by someone they'd thought was their friend. Dumbledore had nothing to do with it."

Slughorn appeared to be listening to Harry, whom was starting to understand why Dumbledore had brought him here.

"You also realize that Dumbledore's the only one Vol-you-know-who ever feared? If you know Dumbledore, really know him, I mean, you'll know that he won't do anything you don't want to, sir. So, if you're scared he might make you join the Order or fight Death Eaters, you're very much mistaken."

A cold silence hung in the air. Slughorn looked to be on the brink of saying something but the bathroom door creaked open and Dumbledore exited, a magazine in hand.

"I don't suppose you'd let me have this, Horace? They've got a chocolate pudding pie recipe I'd love to try," Dumbledore said as he strode towards them.

"Is that what you were doing in there?" Slughorn asked in an agitated manner. "Reading magazines?"

"They are a delightfully wonderful way to pass the time. Well, Harry, we have trespassed upon Horace's hospitality quite long enough; I think it is time for us to leave."

Harry was not at all reluctant to obey. He placed the frame back onto the dresser, glancing once more at the loop of his mother before turning towards Dumbledore. 

Slughorn seemed taken aback. "You're leaving?"

"Yes, indeed. You seem to have made up your mind on the matter and I do not intend to push anyone beyond their limits. We'll be on our way."

Slughorn began to twiddle his thumbs and fidgeted as he watched Dumbledore fasten his traveling cloak. When he was done, Dumbledore raised his uninjured hand in a farewell salute. "I'm sorry you don't want the job, Horace. Hogwarts would have been to glad to see you back again. Our greatly increased security notwithstanding, you will always be welcome to visit, should you wish to."

"Yes...well...very gracious...as I say..."

Dumbledore gave a last nod before he headed to the door, leaving Harry there to stand rather awkwardly. "Bye," said Harry, running after Dumbledore. 

They were at the front door when there was a shout from behind them.

"All right, all right, I'll do it!"

Dumbledore turned to see Slughorn bent over, clutching his knees as he panted uncontrollably at the doorway. 

"You will come out of retirement?"

"Yes, yes," said Slughorn impatiently. "I must be mad, but yes."

"Wonderful," said Dumbledore, beaming. "Then, Horace, we shall see you on the first of September."

"Yes, I daresay you will," grunted Slughorn. "But I'll want a pay raise!"

Dumbledore said nothing, merely chuckled as he and Harry made his way out onto the garden path. The fence swung shut behind them as they walked and it was a while before Dumbledore spoke again.

"Well done, Harry."

"I didn't do anything, sir," Harry replied in surprise.

"Of course you did. You showed Horace exactly what he'd had to gain by coming back to Hogwarts!"

"Sir?"

"You, Harry. I'm sure you've noticed he's got quite the collection of students on that dresser of his. Back when he was teaching, he had a sort of club for students who came from well-known families, or those who were charming and talented. He had an uncanny knack for selecting them-most of them held powerful positions in the Ministry once they left Hogwarts, you see. Horace is a man who prefers comfort over power. Rather than sit on the throne himself and demand wealth or knowledge, he much prefers the backseat. All of these students provide him with whatever information he needs to move around but he does all of this quietly and undetected. The safest way for a man to be powerful, I'd expect, and he has done it so well."

"But what's that got to do with me, sir?"

"Don't you see, Harry? Among all of the students he has collected thus far, none of them compare to you! You are, as they refer to you these days, the Chosen One. Imagine how it must feel to be able to have such influence over you...you must be the jewel among the rest of his trophies. And it is precisely this that has enabled his return to Hogwarts. If I had come here on my own tonight, it would be safe to assume I would be returning to Hogwarts with one Professor short once more."

Harry felt a chill run through his spine at the mention of the Chosen One. The voice from the prophecy echoed in his mind: Neither can live while the other survives...He had forgotten about it, forgotten that it meant his time was limited on this earth. As each day passed, he was becoming more unsure of himself. Voldemort was growing powerful each day and he, Harry, had gotten lucky a few times. If they were ever to meet in combat once more, he didn't think he stood a chance. But Dumbledore was here with him, Harry thought. As long as he had Dumbledore, he did not have to worry about Voldemort.

"Do not think I am telling you all of this to turn you against him, Harry. I am merely warning you to stay on your guard...here, I think this will do."

Harry stopped, looking up at the church they had passed by earlier. Dumbledore extended his arm and Harry reached for it, bracing himself for Apparition. This time, it didn't feel as bad as Harry was pulled through a shift of waves and colors. There was a slight pressure that made him feel uncomfortable but it vanished after they reappeared in a country lane. Harry looked ahead to see the silhouette of the Burrows sticking up as it usually did, and a smile appeared on his face. The dread he felt earlier began to ease as he thought of the people in the house, waiting for him. Ron...Mrs. Weasley...his stomach rumbled as he thought about what she would have cooked for him.

"Forgive me, Harry," Dumbledore said softly. "But I would like to speak with you a moment before we part ways."

He pointed to a run-down stone outhouse the Weasleys used to keep their old broomsticks in. Harry was puzzled but still he followed the headmaster through the creaking door and into the small unlit storage room. Inside, Dumbledore illuminated the tip of his wand so it glowed between the two of them.

"First, I'd like to say that I'm proud of how well you've handled yourself after everything that's happened at the Ministry and with Sirius...it wouldn't have been easy, I'm sure. Permit me to say that I think Sirius would have been proud of you."

Harry felt his lips tremble and he quickly looked away from Dumbledore. It was bad enough that Uncle Vernon and Slughorn had both spoken of Sirius' death so casually but having a full blown conversation about him with Dumbledore had caught him off guard.

"It was cruel," Dumbledore said softly, "that you were both given such short time together. A brutal ending to what should have been a long and happy relationship."

Harry nodded, blinking away hot tears. There was a part of him that wanted to shout at Dumbledore, to blame him for keeping them separated. If they had their way, Harry would have spent all of his summer holidays with Sirius. But Dumbledore hadn't agreed. Instead, he had made sure to separate the two of them. Harry had been forced to live with the Dursleys while Sirius had been hiding away in the mountains or at his mother's house...Sirius had been so lonely...but everything had been to keep Harry safe. If there was anyone to blame for what had happened to Sirius, it would be him alone.

"It's just hard," Harry said finally, his voice hoarse. "To realize he won't ever write to me again."

And it was true. Though they hadn't spent all their time together, receiving Sirius' letters had been something he looked forward to each week. He supposed it was the feeling that there was someone out there who was waiting to read everything that had happened to him, that there was someone on the other side who cared about him. Sirius had been like a father to Harry and now...to come to terms that there would never be another post from him sent a dull numbing ache to his chest.

"The loss of a parent is never easy," Dumbledore replied, "and you, Harry, have lost so much so young. Naturally, it would be devastating..."

"I'd thought...with Sirius gone-" Harry whispered, feeling a shiver though the room was warm and dry. "It wouldn't matter anymore."

"What wouldn't, Harry?"

"Any of it," Harry replied stiffly. He made sure to look in Dumbledore's eyes as he continued to speak. "My life. What happened with Voldemort or the school. How could I...why would I care anything else if the one person I cared about...was gone? In the end, whether we win or not, Sirius will still be dead."

Dumbledore looked away, dabbing his eyes lightly with his uninjured hand. "Harry..."

"But when I thought about it," Harry said, sniffling, "Sirius wouldn't have wanted that. He'd have wanted us to fight. To keep fighting until we died or we won. That's what all of this has been about since the start, hasn't it, Professor? My parents....Sirius...Vance and Bones, too? They knew what they were signing up for and I-I do, too. My fate's been marked since my birth...neither one lives while the other survives, that's what that means, isn't it? That I'll fight until I die or he does?"

"I fear you have grown far beyond your years, Harry. I am sorry that this is the path you've been thrusted onto," replied Dumbledore in a gentle voice.

"Don't be," said Harry determinedly. "If I fail to kill Voldemort...if I die before that, then I'm going to make sure I take as many Death Eaters with me as I can."

Dumbledore smiled. "Spoken like your parents' son and Sirius' godson, indeed!"

Harry nodded, ignoring yet another tear that dripped onto his shirt, staining it.

"Sirius may be gone, Harry, but you must remember that you are still loved. You are loved by so many, and cared for by many more-some of whom you may not even expect. All of their love, and yours for them, will be what puts you at an advantage over Voldemort. Love, Harry, will be his ultimate defeat. I do not know whether we will win or lose, or whether we live or die, but I know that love triumphs all in the end."

There was nothing else to say. The headmaster's words were a comfort to his battered heart, his words an assurance that there would be a day where wizards, witches and Muggles alike would be free from evil. He smiled, finding solace in a future where Ron, Hermione, the Weasleys and everyone else could be happy without worrying over who would be dead next. He only wished, quite selfishly too, that he would be standing there with them, breathing in the air of light and freedom once Voldemort was truly and finally vanquished.

"There is one last thing before I leave you, Harry," said Dumbledore, shifting uncomfortably.

"Sir?"

"You will be taking private lessons with me this year. A requirement, I'm afraid."

"Private-with you?" Harry asked in alarm.

"Yes, I think it is time I took a greater time in your education."

"What will you be teaching me, sir?" asked Harry, rather curious now.

"Oh, a little of this, a little of that," said Dumbledore airily. Harry waited in anticipation for the older man to elaborate but the man seemed to have said all that needed to be said. A minute later, Harry could not hold in another disturbing thought he'd had.

"Sir...if I'm taking lessons with you, then I won't be needing to have Occlumency lessons with Snape, do I?"

Dumbledore chuckled. "Professor Snape, Harry - and no, you will not. Not unless I think it necessary. But, we must look into these recurring dreams you have of Voldemort...it is quite strange..."

"Good," Harry replied with a breath of relief, "because those lessons were a-" he stopped, thinking carefully of what to say.

"-a fiasco would be a good word, I expect. I must apologize for putting both of you through it...as I said, I was a fool...thinking I could somehow help the two of you make things right again. It was a mistake...some wounds run too deep to heal, don't they?"

Harry didn't think Dumbledore was referring to him anymore, though he still nodded in agreement.

"Wait, but that means I won't be seeing Professor Snape around much, will I? He only accepts students with 'Outstanding' in their O.W.L.s and I know I haven't," he said smugly.

"Don't count your owls before they are delivered," said Dumbledore gravely. "Now, come."

The headmaster crouched as he made towards the door, Harry following quietly behind. When they were quite close by to the Burrow, Dumbledore turned to face Harry with a rather serious look on his face.

"Before I leave you, take heed of what I am about to tell you, Harry. First, keep your Invisibility Cloak with you at all times from this moment onward. Even within Hogwarts itself, is that clear?"

Harry nodded once.

"The Burrow has been given the highest security measure the Ministry of Magic can provide. These measures have caused a certain amount of inconvenience to Arthur and Molly - all of their post, for instance, is being searched at the Ministry before being sent on. They do not mind the slightest, for their only concern is your safety. However, it would be poor repayment if you risked your neck while staying with them."

"I understand," said Harry quickly. 

"Very well then," said Dumbledore. "We'd best hurry inside. Let us not deprive Molly any longer of the chance to deplore how thin you are."

Chapter Text

The weight of his knees pressing down against the cold, hard floor of his mother's house hardly registered to Severus at all as he stared into Narcissa's tear-stained face. They hadn't moved at all, though the words to the Unbreakable Vow had already been said and done, and even their hands were clasped together still. The two remained kneeling there, the rest of the world left behind and forgotten to them.

"We should leave, Cissy. If the Dark Lord were to know what you've done..."

Severus was first to break eye contact, turning to glance at Bellatrix. She, however, was far too busy looking at her younger sister to have noticed him nor the distasteful expression on his face. Opposite him, Narcissa stirred. When he turned to look at her, he noticed a tear trail down her cheeks which he gathered to be soft yet cold to the touch. His hand twitched as he held on to her, wanting nothing more than to draw his thumb across her face and wipe the tear away. But to do so, in this house, with both Bellatrix and Pettigrew present, would be a death warrant on his name. So Severus chose to release his grip on Narcissa instead, watching as her face crumpled before him.

He pretended not to see, her face in this light and this house reminded him too much of his own mother after his father's drunken tantrums. Severus got to his feet first before extending a hand out to the blonde woman in front of him. She took up his invitation with grace, and though her hand had been in his just a moment before, still filled him with fresh warmth. He selfishly made to pull her with such fervor so that she staggered before stopping just an inch away from him, the nearness of her scent pushing him to be decadent – never mind Bellatrix's presence in the room.

"You are alright?" he asked, forcing himself to sound cold and uncaring.

He watched as Narcissa's breath hitched slightly, her lips pursed as she nodded.

"She's perfectly fine, thanks very much," replied Bellatrix abruptly, stepping between them and pulling Narcissa closer to her. "You'd do best to stay away from her if you know what's good for you."

"Bella," Narcissa whispered, keeping her gaze fixed on Severus even as she spoke to her sister. "Severus has done us a great kindness and favor, one that can only be repaid in blood. You ought to be nicer to him."

Bellatrix snorted. "Kindness? You think he did this out of the goodness of his heart? Oh, I could laugh, Cissy!" she said, sneering at Severus with a sharp gaze and cruel smile.

"Pray tell, then, dear Bellatrix, why I would sign away my soul if not for your sister and her husband's sake alone?" Severus asked in a low voice.

"You can fool my little sister, Snape," said Bellatrix, repulsion dripping in her voice. "She has seen less of the world and lesser still the people in it. But it doesn't matter what little she knows about the world or the people in it-she has her sister to look out for her for that. And I know better than to trust you."

Severus smiled as he shook his head. "This evening I have explained myself – justified myself plenty to you. Per your request, I have even agreed to the Unbreakable Vow with your sister, a vow which I might add, risks every second of my life-"

"-which I am extremely grateful for, Severus-"

"Be quiet, Cissy!" Bellatrix hissed. "You don't owe this-this half-breed anything! You are forsaking the name of your family-your husband's family...as if you haven't shamed us enough!"

"Shamed you? Shamed you?" Narcissa demanded, color spreading across her thin, pale face. "You were as much to blame for what happened at the Ministry as Lucius was!"

Severus watched with amusement as Bellatrix's face turned sour. "If Lucius hadn't-"

"Oh dear, oh dear," Severus replied with a shake of his head. "It wouldn't do if the two of you were to go into disagreement, would it, now? Not after risking your loyalty to the Dark Lord by coming here tonight, surely, Bellatrix? If we are to keep this bond between the three of us discrete, we must ensure to keep our ties close-no matter how much you might distrust me. It is a crucial part of ensuring our...survival."

Bellatrix appeared to mull over Severus' words. In the end, she crossed her arms and spat on the floor. "Fine! Fine-for my sister's sake, do you hear me? But you listen to me, Snape, no matter what my sister thinks...no matter what he thinks...I know-I know you are not to be trusted."

"I hope, in due time, your opinion of me shall change but until then I assure you I am more than comfortable of keeping my peace from a distance," said Severus, raising his hands as if to assure the darker sister of his sincerity. "That is, if you intend to keep what has happened here between us tonight...private."

The witch did not answer but rather spared him a seething glare before turning away. Bellatrix stomped towards the door, making sure to throw the door open as hard and as roughly as she could before exiting. The door slammed with a loud banging, amplifying the resentment and loathing she felt for Severus and yet the smug smile from his face did not vacate. When he finally mustered the courage to spare a glance at Narcissa, he realized she was still staring up at him.

"You are alright?" he repeated, much softer this time.

"You already asked me that," Narcissa said, sniffling. Severus looked around to the bookcase where he was sure Pettigrew would be trying to pry through. Feeling rather daring in the moment, he stepped closer towards her and reached for her trembling hand.

"Just making sure," Severus murmured. He drew her hand close to his mouth and began to mutter something under his breath, his brows scrunched in concentration. When he was done, he placed a soft kiss atop her hand before releasing it. When he opened his eyes, he saw that she had a look of confusion upon her face.

"Just a small protective charm I came across in my readings," he explained. "It's supposed to keep those practicing Dark Magic safe from any potential side-effects."

"You didn't use one for yourself," she pointed out.

Severus shrugged. "I can look after myself."

"And I can't?"

"That's not what I meant-"

Narcissa gave a small laugh, the sound wrecking him from the inside. "Relax, Severus. I was only teasing."

He felt his tensed shoulders relax and he exhaled breathily.

"Thank you," Narcissa said quietly.

"That won't be necessary. The spell-you see, the books made it clear that it's old magic so I can't say for sure that it'll work to keep you safe-"

"Severus," said Narcissa firmly. "That's not what I was thanking you for."

"No?"

"Well, I was. But I was also thanking you for...everything else, too. You keep helping me when you ought not to. The other night, you made it perfectly clear your feelings towards me and here I am, shamelessly standing in your presence-continuously asking for your help-"

Severus had placed his finger against her lips to stop her from speaking. He bent over close to her ear so that his breath rolled over the nape of her neck, making her shiver against him. "I wish-I wish things were different, Narcissa. I wish I could say the things that I mean but it...it wouldn't be-Every...everything that your sister has said about me...you don't-know-"

"I trust you, Severus," Narcissa said firmly. "No matter what everyone else says about you. You are the only one I trust."

He shook his head, withdrawing from her. His hands gripped the sides of her shoulders as he gently shook her. "But you shouldn't. The path of your life is clear, Narcissa, but mine isn't. Else I would have given you my declaration...my truth. But as long as I keep that away from you, you must realize it is not safe for you to be around me. Tonight, I have given you my word that I shall do all in my power to keep Draco safe and in return, you must promise me something else in return."

"Anything," she said leaning towards him as if a strange force kept dragging her inwards. "Just tell me."

"You must leave everything be as it is. No matter what it may look like to you. You must believe that I will take care of everything including yourself, Lucius and Draco. If something were to happen-something unexpected, you must remain where you are, do you understand? You must promise me that you won't do anything rash or impulsive, anything that might endanger you. Will you promise me that?"

Narcissa hesitated before her hand lifted to trace his arm lightly. "I-I promise."

Severus gave a curt nod. He bent once more, his nose touching her forehead just enough to retract her scent as a passing memory. "Thank you."

"Until I see you again, Severus," Narcissa said fondly.

As he watched, she pulled herself away from him and followed after her sister. As the door closed shut behind her, Severus was trapped and alone in the house once more. He stood there for a while, lost in the image of Narcissa Malfoy's shattered state, filled with pity for both himself and for her. It was cruel, he thought, that any woman he felt any inclination towards belonged always to another. Fate was cruel; he had thought he had accepted it a long time ago and yet it pricked him still, filling him with an awful emptiness he wouldn't wish upon his worst enemies.

"That was tough to watch," came Sirius Black's snide voice. "And I'm not saying that just because it's my cousin you're lusting after."

Severus sighed as he turned around to see Black perched atop the chair he so frequently occupied. His fingers came to pinch the bridge of his nose as he regarded Black with utmost loathing. "You're back again."

"That I am. You know, you can't keep fooling around with her like this. You've got to decide."

"Decide what?" Severus asked, striding towards the imaginary Black who looked frighteningly real in his eyes.

"What side you're on. You can't be Dumbledore's and Voldemort's and Narcissa's all at the same time. It just won't work."

Severus scoffed. "I am none of theirs, Black. I am my own man."

"Are you, though? Really?"

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

Black shrugged. "It's just...everything you've done so far is follow commands from everyone but yourself. Dumbledore needs help and you're there. Voldemort summons you and you're there. Poor Narcissa Malfoy begs and you comply, like a loyal little rat. If that's what you call being your own man...."

"I will not be spoken to like that-especially not by the likes of you! Tell me, Black, all that time you spent sitting on your arse in your mother's house-is that what you call being your own man, I wonder?"

But Black did nothing more than relax further into the chair. "Once again, I'm not really Black so pushing my buttons isn't going to work, I'm afraid."

"No, it isn't. But I know what will."

Severus snapped his fingers and the bookcase rolled open. Pettigrew, whom had been intently listening through the hidden doorway, had been caught of guard and had fell into a heap before Severus. He looked up at Severus, jumping to his feet and combing over his mousy hair.

"Where-where are they? Narcissa and Bellatrix? Have they left?"

"Yes, Wormtail. They've left," Severus replied coldly.

"What did they want? Narcissa seemed upset-Bella too...what did they want from you?"

"I don't see how any of that is your business, Wormtail. I thought I'd told you to stop eavesdropping?"

"I'm not eavesdropping! This is my house as much as it is yours! The Dark Lord has commanded for me to be here-"

"-yes, Wormtail, and the only reason for that is because he can't seem to find a better job for you to do. I certainly don't blame him...there's only so much a rat is able to do...I suppose when you've betrayed just about everyone you've ever known, you tend to run out of use, don't you?"

Pettigrew began to choke and splutter on his words, his face turning purple then red.

"I'm going out tonight. You'll remain here in case the Dark Lord has need for me. You will not leave this place, is that understood?"

"Where are you going? Pettigrew demanded.

"St. Mungo's. I am ill and I need to be looked at by a Healer. Anything else?"

"What's wrong with you?" asked Pettigrew, taking Severus by surprise.

"Don't worry," Severus replied harshly. "It'll be a while before I drop dead, Wormtail. Unfortunately, for you, that means cleaning up after me a little while longer.”

He left Pettigrew standing there as he grabbed his cloak and threw it over him. Severus walked a short mile before disapparating to Abbott's office, hoping that she would be there. He knocked on her door several times, losing what little hope he had before the door finally opened with a loud creak. Abbott's face peeked from inside, her scrunched-up eyes and messy hair evidence that he had abruptly awakened her from her sleep.

"Professor?" she asked meekly. "Is something wrong?"

Severus took a deep breath before he exhaled.

"You said one of the side-effects of the Boggart was hallucinations?"

She gave a hurried nod, her eyes widening. "You're seeing people that aren't there?"

It was his turn to nod, though he made sure to look away from her as he did.

"Come in," she said with urgency now. "Hurry."

Severus glanced around the deserted alley and once he was sure that he was not being watched by anyone or anything, he made to follow Abbott into her office.

Chapter Text

Severus sat pressed against a chair as Abbott hovered over him in an irritating fashion. Her one hand was placed flat against his temple, pushing his head upwards so she could observe the distinct coloring in his eyes. Her other hand cupped his face so as to hold him still, though she needn't had bothered at all. Now, usually, Severus wasn't very respectful of one's personal boundaries; he had, on numerous occasions - and especially when his temper got the best of him, trespassed upon students' inner space by grabbing or shaking them. He realized now how uncomfortable it was to have it done to him, and by this strange woman that he barely knew nonetheless. With every passing second that Abbott's attention was glued onto him, Severus found it harder and harder to breathe. Ultimately, he decided to take in his breath and exhale only when she deemed him fit and released him.

"She's not making you nervous, is she, Snivellus?"

Severus quickly let out the breath he'd been holding, moving his eyes so it was on Black's smug face. Black was behind him, leaning over him from above. His hair dangled about his face, though it was done in such an organized way. 

"Though, I can't blame you," said Black, his gaze moving towards the unsuspecting Abbott. "She's quite beautiful."

When Severus did not respond, Black only continued to taunt him. "And she makes a far better choice than Narcissa," he said with a slight shrug of his shoulders, and added, "And I'm not just saying that because dear Cissy is my cousin and I don't want you anywhere near her."

Severus let out an abrupt grunt, forgetting that he'd decided to ignore the imaginary Black. Abbott, whom was so engrossed in her examination of Severus, had absent-mindedly moved in too close to him.

"Is something the matter?" she asked when he grunted again. 

"I don't suppose you'd mind, Miss Abbott?" Severus asked in a displeased tone. Abbott raised her brow, her gaze following Severus' downwards to see that her body was leaning quite heavily against him.

"Oh, sorry!" she exclaimed, jumping away from him. She laughed nervously as she set her displaced glasses back on the bridge of her nose. 

Feeling it might add to the awkwardness lest he reply to her, he instead switched the subject to the matter of his health. "So," he said softly, "ought I be making funeral arrangements just yet?"

"Not quite yet, Professor. You appear alright for now...physically, I mean," she said, blushing. "You sure you've been seeing hallucinations?"

"I assure you, Miss Abbott," Severus replied as he pinched the bridge of his nose with pale fingers. "I would not call upon you in this late hour had I not been concerned about my well-being. So, if you think there truly is nothing wrong with me, I suppose I shall be on my way."

"Alright, alright. No need to get upset, Professor. I was only making sure," she said.

Much too tired to argue, Severus nodded. "Well? Is there a way to be rid of the hallucinations? A potion or spell you've developed, perhaps?"

Abbott shook her head. "I've told you...there's only one way to possibly get you through this thing and, might I remind you, you've already agreed to it."

Severus leaned back against the chair, arms crossed. "The memories you took from me, you mean? You want to go through them? Now?"

"Not all of them, no. Perhaps we'll start with your hallucinations," said Abbott as she settled atop her desk, her legs swinging back and forth rather cheerfully.

"What about them?" he asked gruffly.

"Are you planning on telling me who or what it is you've been seeing?" she asked.

"No," he said calmly. "Can't you just tell me what to do to stop it?"

"Look here now, Professor," Abbott said rather calmly. "I've told you plenty of times before. You either trust me to do what's best and help you or you let that poison keep going up into your brain and turning it to rot. The choice is yours."

Severus stared up at her, fingers tapping impatiently against his arm. In the end, he let out a defeated sigh. "Black."

"Sorry?"

"Black. He's who I've been seeing."

"Sirius Black?" she asked, surprised.

"Yes, Miss Abbott. Sirius Black."

"The one and only," Black commented with a smirk.

"Strange," Abbott replied.

"Is it?" 

"Yes...I'd have expected you to have seen someone in a more...intimate nature, I suppose."

Severus looked up at her in alarm. "Intimate?"

"Well, no-not like that. I just meant...the only other case I've had to study was Peter's-the caretaker, I mean. And he seemed to have had a more personal connection with his hallucinations, you see. Unless you do share some sort of history with Black?"

Severus nodded. "We did not get along in our school days. Our...ah, differences led to a sort of rivalry."

Abbott nodded along with her, tracing the air with her fingers as she thought. "And this rivalry...does it extend past your schooldays?"

"I'm afraid I don't know what you're asking."

"It just seems strange to me that a simple schoolboy feud would have brought such an impact as this on your mind, Professor. Our brains are complicated, you see - unless an incident of traumatic nature occurred between you and Mr. Black, I don't see why you've been seeing him."

Severus felt himself stiffen before giving way for a thin-lipped smile. "Ah, you underestimate Black, Miss Abbott. All the same, to answer your question in the first place...yes, our rivalry does go past our schooldays, though those alone are sufficient enough to surmise the extent of our enmity."

"So this must mean the years leading up to his arrest, then?" Abbott asked. "Which is most likely a year or two upon leaving school...again, I don't see how that is enough-"

"-you ask too many questions, Miss Abbott. I'm afraid I can't answer them in fear of breaching my loyalties to Dumbledore's cause."

"To the Order?"

He nodded. "As much as you have assured me that I may be able to trust you, Miss Abbott, there still remains some information that may not be divulged to you just yet. Not unless I see reason to do so."

Abbott did not argue. She tipped her falling glasses back on the bridge of her nose once more and jumped to her feet. 

"I suppose we'd get to work then."

"What-now?"

"Unless you've any objections? I've got your collected memories here somewhere...if we start tonight, we might be able to get ahead of schedule. And who knows...your sessions may even be cut short."

Severus sat up straight, interested in what she had to say at last. Though it seemed mortifying that Abbott would willingly witness the humiliations Severus went through as a child, he supposed it would be no much worse than when he had caught Potter going through his memories.

"I suppose there's no other way to do this, then?"

She let out a sigh. "I'm afraid not, Professor. Now, let's see here-"

Abbott waved her wand and a rather large tube-like vial appeared before them, floating mid-air as though trapped in an invisible dance. Severus watched as she tapped the vial and it began to vibrate, its milky contents swirling round like a stream. Those were all his memories, he thought. He suddenly realized just how much of a life he had truly lived and that in the end, everything that he was came down to simply what was in that vial. Another clap of her hand and her desk began to reorganize itself. From the center, a tiny fountain-like object emerged,

"A pensive," Abbott said to Severus.

"I know. Albus Dumbledore has one in his office."

"I expect any man of his age would. Now, let's see-"

She tapped the vial again, uncorking the top and watching as the contents spilled into the pensive on the desk. She ran her wand through the glimmering surface, and instantly different faces began to bubble over the top. Severus felt his heart clench when an image of Narcissa suddenly appeared on the surface. He turned away from it quickly.

"How will you filter out all of these memories for Black's?" he asked. "Or will we be spending all our time going through irrelevant memories?

"I'm afraid my time is far too precious to be spent watching that many memories of you," she said simply as Severus flushed. "I can, however, try to filter them so they move in a cohesive fashion. There might be an occasional leak or two - other memories may slip through."

Severus clenched his jaw as he looked at her. "Suppose some of these memories were...private..."

Abbott shook her head. "If any of these memories make you uncomfortable at all, Professor, you let me know and we shall withdraw from them. You have my word."

Severus nodded. "So how will we filter the memories out? Do we go through each of them?"

"That will only be a waste of both our time. Here," she said, pointing towards the pensive. "I've had it modified - just place your wand over the surface and think of Black."

Though it wrecked his nerves to know what would follow, Severus did as he was told. 

"After me," said Abbott. "Sentio."

"Sentio."

There was a gentle humming noise as the pensive began to bubble over, images spilling over one another carelessly. Severus looked to Abbott, unnerved.

"Ready, Professor?"

He did not wish to answer. Sparing no other thought, he plunged his head into the pensive, bracing himself for whatever memory would reveal itself to them.

The air was warm and sticky. Julia blinked several times, realizing the memory had brought her back to Hogwarts after so long. She was standing in the grounds nearby the Great Lake, the sunny tint of the afternoon making her ache to see the castle once more. Students were bustling about the lands; most of them laid about the grass lazily, books spread open and forgotten around them as they busied themselves away with giggles and gossip. By the lake, several girls sat huddled together rather seriously as though discussing something of utmost importance. When she turned, she saw that Snape was standing about a distance away. He was staring at the large beech tree on the other end of the lake. More curious than concerned, she walked to where he was.

"Professor?" she called as she neared him, though her call went unanswered. She came to stand behind him, realizing he was much too transfixed to have heard her. She leaned over to see what it was that had captured his attention so when she saw a small boy at the base of the tree, his knees crossed and a somber expression on his face. In his hand, he was holding a letter, his eyes scanning the contents in a hurried and desperate manner. When he appeared to be done, he scrunched up the parchment and stuffed it into his packet in anger. As Julia watched, the boy stared out at the lake for a moment before he burst into tears.

The boy, no doubt young Snape, began to wipe away his tears though they only appeared to worsen the more he did. The older Snape, seemingly having forgotten Julia was there at all, bent down to regard his younger self. There was a mixture of pity and anger in the man's expression. Not a moment later, they were joined by a new set of footsteps.

"Well, well, what have we got here then, boys?"

Julia whirled around to see a group of boys standing before them. The young Snape quickly leapt to his feet, wiping his wet face on the back of his sleeves the best he could. Two boys from the group stepped out to get a closer look at him.

"It's Snivellus!" said the boy with the long, dark hair. "Hiding, are you?"

His friend, sporting glasses and messy hair scoffed. "Of course he is. After that stunt he pulled in Slughorn's class-"

"Leave me alone," said young Snape with a sniffle.

The two Gryffindor boys jeered. "Would you look at that, Sirius? Seems to me they haven't been teaching these Slytherin gits any manners."

Young Sirius Black laughed. "I suppose we should teach him then, eh, James?"

James Potter gave a vicious nod. Black stepped towards Snape but it was clear the latter had been prepared for an attack. He leapt away quickly just as Black lunged, realizing too late that the Gryffindor boy had been aiming at the parchment that had been hanging out of his pocket. Black snatched away Snape's letter with a triumphant grin on his face, waving the paper at his group of spectators. To Julie's greater shock and young Snape's horror, Black unfolded the paper and began to read its contents out aloud.

"Dear Snivellus," said Black in a high-pitched voice. "I'm sorry I haven't written to you since you left for school. I've received all six of your letters-"

"Six letters? In a week? Been missing mummy, have you, Snivellus?" Potter taunted. His reaction only urged Black to continue reading.

"I've been terribly ill-"

"Stop it!" Snape cried out, pouncing at Black with his wand. But Potter, prepared for the attack, waved with his own wand at the boy.

"Impedimenta!" yelled Potter and a jet of light burst from the tip of his wand, hitting Snape in the chest with such force that he was thrown on his back.

A few students laughed nervously as Snape tried to break the spell over him but with his wand lying quite a distance away, he was helpless to do anything. With each struggle to free himself, the laughter from the crowd only grew. 

"I guess his mummy didn't teach him any manners, either," Black interjected. Once more, everyone laughed. Delighted with the attention, Black turned back to letter.

"Your father still isn't happy about your decision to leave for Hogwarts. He's adamant about you remaining here with us. He thinks it's best-"

"Don't," Snape called out, fighting back tears. "Don't, Black."

"Don't what, Snape?" Black asked as he moved in closer towards the struggling boy.

Snape shook his head, his lips trembling. "Don't," he said in a low whisper.

Black bent downwards so only Snape could hear him next.

"Go on, Snivellus. Ask nicely and I'll stop."

There was a moment in which Snape and Black stared at each other, a most contemptuous expression dancing across both their faces. 

"Please," Snape said finally in one breath.

Black smiled as he got to his feet. He folded the piece of paper and tossed it so it fell over Snape's figure.

"Well, I think he's learned his lesson, fellas. The next time he tries to get the better of us, he'll know better, won't he? Come on..."

Julia stood there watching as Black, Potter and the other students retreated back to the other end of the Great Lake. With the spell wearing off, the young Snape was finally able to wrench himself off the ground. He took the letter from his mother and ripped it to pieces where he stood. There was so much rage radiating from the boy that Julia had to take a step back lest he seared her with his anger too. 

"I believe we've seen enough."

Julia turned to see the older Snape staring at her, his black eyes jittering in the sunlight. She gave a nod and they both re-surfaced back in her office. The two did not speak for a long time as Julia allowed herself to process the memory of Snape she had just seen. It seemed disconcerting that the emotional boy she had just witnessed had grown to be the man with hardly any emotion at all sitting before her now. She cleared her throat, alerting him.

"What year were you in?" she asked kindly.

"First."

"And is there a reasonable justification for his behavior towards you?"

Snape smiled grimly. "To that particular memory? Or just in general?"

"Both, then."

He leaned towards her. "The incident to which Black referred to was me warning Horace Slughorn that Potter and Black had been sneaking into his Potions cabinet to steal ingredients for something they were making."

"Ah, I see. And in general?"

Snape began to count off his fingers. "Because I was a Slytherin. Because they thought I was weak. Because I often reacted in the way they hoped for-that is, I fought back as often as I could. Or, it could've been that they were jealous I'd outperformed them in classes. Of course, this is all conjecture. I'd gladly ask you to ask Potter and Black themselves for an answer but that's unlikely given that they're both very much dead."

His tone was unapologetic, as though their deaths brought him comfort and satisfaction.

"Well," said Julia. "I see we've got our work cut out for us. Just how many of these memories do you have of them?"

"In the first year?"

Julia shook her head. "That answers it, then. Would you like to get into the next one? Or do you have elsewhere to be?"

Once again, Severus answered by immersing his head into the pensive once more.

Julia and Snape were once again thrown into another memory at Hogwarts, only this time they found themselves in the Great Hall. For a moment, Julia had forgotten she was only visiting a memory and almost started to walk off into the direction of the Hufflepuffs gathered round their table. It was only when she saw the fully fledged Snape next to her that she kept her footing as she stood. She followed his gaze to the Slytherin table where his young self sat pouring over a book. He looked to be a year or two older from the previous memory, though his hair hung in similar fashion as it had before. Next to him was a young boy which a face that was as solemn as Snape's own, though he looked quite eager to watch Snape read through his book. Snape, however, was much too absorbed in his book to have noticed the boy's attention.

Julia was just about to turn to the other Snape to ask if he had chosen to ignore the young boy in purpose when she was interrupted by a loud voice from across the hall.

"Reg!" called Sirius Black from the other end of the Great Hall. Julia turned to see Black walking towards the boy, ignoring the reproachful look from Potter behind him. The two of them stopped short of the Slytherin table, regarding the students sitting there rather haughtily. Snape had finally snapped out of his thoughts and turned to the direction of Black, glancing at the dejected-looking boy next to him.

"Reg-hey, Regulus! Didn't you hear me?" Black asked, a wide grin on his face.

"Sirius," said the boy called Regulus. "Do you need something?"

Black appeared offended by the boy's question, stepping back with a surprised expression. "No, no, James and I were heading out to the lake to try out his new broom. Want to tag along?"

Regulus' face lit up as he nodded fervently. "What kind of broom has he got?"

Black grinned, turning to Potter. "A Nimbus. I reckon he'll let you have a go if you want."

Potter, though, seemed apprehensive about the entire idea. It was evident he did not want anything to do with the Slytherin boy in front of him. It surprised Julia as well to see Black showing niceties to this boy when only in another memory he had treated Snape so unkindly.

"What about Severus?" Regulus asked, smiling.

At this, Snape sat up rather hurriedly. "I beg your pardon?"

Black's face darkened as he finally recognized Snape sitting next to Regulus. "It's you," he said rather rudely. "Thought I'd caught a whiff of grease in the air."

Behind him, Potter sniggered.

"Why are you here, Black? Your House is all the way over there, if you've forgotten," Snape retorted. "I suggest you go far away and bother someone else there."

Black's face turned red as he turned to Regulus. "Are you coming or not?"

Regulus hesitated. "Severus can't come?"

Snape glared at Regulus. "Severus doesn't need his permission to go anywhere, Black. And for your information, I would rather the Giant Squid drowned me in the lake than tag along behind Black like a pathetic house-elf or watch Potter get his inflated head up on a broomstick."

It was fortunate that Potter had some sense to pull Black back before he pounced on Snape. Snape had sensed danger, quickly tucking in his book back into his bag and swinging it over his shoulder. 

"You watch yourself, you slimy git," Black growled, fighting his friend's hold over him.

"Or what, Black? You don't frighten me in the slightest," Snape replied calmly. "I can beat you in a duel any day."

"Oh, I'm sure," Black replied with a sneer. "Is that why you had dear Evans come in and break off our little fight the other day? She's a convenience to you, isn't she? I expect you warn her beforehand to step in when things get too ugly for you, eh, Snivellus?"

Potter laughed aloud, though he looked quite disturbed by his friend's words. "Oooo...come and help me, Lily! Sirius and James are being mean to me again! Ooooo!"

Snape blushed a deep red before turning to Regulus with a twisted expression. "Tell me, Regulus, how is your mother these days? Is she still complaining about your blood-traitor of a brother?"

Black yelled, pushing Potter away with a sudden animal-like savagery. He pulled out his wand and aimed it at Snape, whom was more prepared this time. 

"And what about your mother, Snape?" Black asked, his eyes glinting as he watched Severus pale. "How is your Squib mother? Still writing letters to her, are you?"

"She's not a Squib," Snape said in a low voice, his eyes calculating.

"But she hasn't got a wand, has she?"

"Shut up!" Snape yelled, sparks emanating from the tip of his wand.

Black smiled cruelly. "What's the matter, Snivellus? Oh...your little friends don't know, do they? Made them all think you were some pure-blood to get in their favor, did you?"

"SHUT UP, BLACK!" Snape cried out again, his wand mere inches away from Black's face. But Black showed no signs of stopping.

"Did you lot know about his mum? Had her wand snapped by his Muggle daddy, didn't she? If she's a Squib...and he's a Muggle...so what's that make you, Snivellus?"

"SHE'S NOT A SQUIB!" 

"What's going on, here? Black, Potter? Severus?"

The three boys broke their gaze to look at the red-haired girl in front of them. She seemed rather crossed as she stared at the young Snape.

Potter quickly stepped away from the scene, flattening his hair as he did. "Just a misunderstanding, Evans. Reckon it's all sorted now...isn't it, Sirius?"

He stared at Black who seemed hesitant to step away. He, too, was slightly panting from the intensity of the altercation.

"Is it Black?" the girl asked once more.

Black spat on the ground. "For now, yeah. Right on cue, isn't she?" 

Snape remained mutinous, refusing to answer.

Black pointed to the boy who was quite evidently his younger brother. "Are you coming?" he snapped.

The younger Black sibling glanced over to Snape before shaking his head. "I'm heading back to dormitory, I think. You have fun though, Sirius."

Snape had enough time to sneak in a victorious smile at the two Gryffindor boys. With one fleeting look, Black turned and walked in the direction of the Great Hall entrance, Potter following him from behind. When they'd left, the girl - Evans, ushered Snape over and, once more to Julia's surprise, he obeyed. 

"What?" he asked, though his tone was much softer.

"You want to tell me what that was about?" Evans asked.

"It's nothing," he murmured.

A small sigh escaped the girl's lips. "I keep telling you, Sev, keep your head down..."

The rest of the conversation went unheard as Julia felt herself being dragged upwards, resurfacing in her office once more.

The adult Snape was perched by the pensive, staring into its contents for a minute or so before turning to her.

"That was...a lot," Julia said. He scoffed lightly.

"The boy...he was Black's younger brother, I take it?"

Snape nodded. "Regulus Black. He was two years younger."

Julia frowned. "Funny," she said. "When Black was arrested, I don't recall them ever mentioning a younger brother. I don't think he was mentioned in Black's obituary, either. Whatever happened to him?"

Snape looked away, sparing her no answer.

"What Black said...about your mother-?"

"She was not a Squib," he said calmly. "My mother had been an extremely gifted witch...that is, before she had met my father."

"And him...your father...he was a Muggle?"

Snape nodded, his face turning sour at the mention of his father.

"How did Black know so much about your family?"

"The letter," Snape replied quietly. "My father...he was an unhappy man, I suppose. Had quite the fit of rage...when he learned I was to attend Hogwarts, he was against it. Thought I'd fare better working in the mines with him. My mother had to sneak me out to get me to the station...when he found out, he broke her wand in retaliation. Not that she ever used it in the first place, anyway."

Snape's voice had become distant, as though he had moved to live in the memories as it occurred. His eyes fluttered a moment before he was brought back to reality.

"And Black read all of that in the letter," Julia finished. He gave a brief nod.

"That bit about Black's mother? That was also true?"

"Yes," he said. "His brother, Regulus - I don't know why but he was adamant about us being friends. I thought I could use him to stop his brother...though that was in vain. But Regulus had let it slip many times that his mother had been unhappy with Black ever since he'd been sorted into Gryffindor. She couldn't accept the fact that her oldest son had tainted the tradition of generations before him. She disowned him several years later, in fact."

Julia moved back to her seat. "It's quite strange," she said.

"What is?" Snape quizzed, crossing his arms as he awaited her response.

"The two of you...you're quite similar and yet so opposed against each other. I wonder...if Black had landed in Slytherin or you in Gryffindor...might the two of you have been friends?"

Snape blanched. "I am nothing like him!"

"I beg to differ, Professor, but you are. The two of you, judging from all that you've told me, have suffered parental neglect and care...it may even be why Black had chosen you as a specific target."

His brows furrowed as he stared at her. "Why?"

"Black may not have shown it but he craved validation from his mother. Why else would he have reacted so violently towards the insult you threw at him? You see, Professor, I think as much as he denied it, Black did care about his mother and her opinion of him. Perhaps when he saw someone who as loyal to the Slytherin house as you were....he felt intimidated by it. Perhaps he imagined himself in your place and saw how much different his relationship with his mother would have been. It would have been that thought that had caused him such grievance to attack you in such a manner. Perhaps. I cannot say until I have gone through the rest of your memories with him but for now, I am confident my theory is entirely plausible."

Snape did not speak for a moment. "You are saying...Black was jealous...of me?"

"It could've been that. He also seemed rather bothered about his brother's interest in you. Did your relationship with Regulus Black progress further?"

"I think we've seen enough for today," said Snape, brushing past her desk. He stopped to look down at her. "I will take my leave now, Miss Abbott."

Julia had no choice but to concede. "Very well, Professor Snape. I'll reach out to you for our next session."

He nodded.

"Oh and by the way," Julia called out to him. "The hallucination...do you still see him?"

Snape looked around him and then, to Julia's relief, he spoke.

"No, Miss Abbott. I do not."

With that, he tightened the cloak around him and swept out of the room. Julia exhaled, falling back against her chair.

Chapter Text

There was no proper way to describe how it felt to finally leave his mother's house back in Spinner's End and return to Hogwarts. He could hardly remember a time he was in as cheery a mood as this (he did - it was when he had gotten Lupin sacked) and he took full advantage of it, offering even Peter Pettigrew a half smile as he stepped out. The rat had given a soft squeak in surprise before slamming the door behind him. No doubt he was in jitters at having to return to his Master until the holidays. Any other time Pettigrew would have leapt at the chance to be back at the Dark Lord's side but with the recent failures befalling all Death Eaters, going so much as even a mile close to the man could very well mean a harsh and unforgivable death. The thought of hearing about Pettigrew being charred to a crisp raised his spirits even higher that he decided he would enjoy a long stroll before Apparating back to the castle.

It was cold outside but the smell of thick smoke from the factories drowned out the freshness of the evening air. Still, Severus was determined to take comfort in the silence he was so rarely granted. He passed by the local pub, absent-mindedly stopping in his tracks to spare the building a condescending look. Severus forced himself to walk ahead but his feet seemed reluctant to obey him. Instead, it began to lead him in the direction of the pub entrance. With no control over his limbs, he allowed his hand to push the door open and he stepped inside. The place was lit with fairy lights hung about messily, the tables and chairs meshed together haphazardly. Yet, it was packed with men and women, no doubt all drunk as evidently heard from their raucous laughter. He frowned, shaking his head before turning to leave.

"Mind yourself, there-oh!"

Severus stepped back quickly as if he had been stung when something came tumbling into him. A curse rolled off his tongue but he held himself back just in time to see that it was someone he knew.

"You!" he called aloud before lowering his voice.

The woman grinned widely, her hands stuffed into the pockets of the overcoat she sported. "Severus! Fancy seeing you here! Here for a drink?"

He shook his head. "I'd rather be caught dead than drink in a place like this," he said, his eyes sweeping across the bar with a disdainful look.

An unintended laugh escaped her lips and she did her best to cover it up by bringing her hand over her mouth.

"Is something funny?" he asked, his eyes snapping back to her.

The woman was unfazed by his piercing gaze. "Just a bit odd to see a man in a pub when he has no intention of drinking."

Her question was quite a rational one to ask, though it was a difficult one to answer. As a minute passed, he found he was at a loss of words and it began to dampen his mood.

Seeing his reluctance, the woman dropped her voice to a low whisper. "Unless...you're not here on one of your missions, are you?"

"Quiet!" he snapped, grabbing her by the arm and taking her aside to a quiet corner of the pub. "I don't know what Dumbledore thinks he's doing giving you information about me but I won't have you using it against me-"

"Against you?" she asked very amusedly. "I was just trying to have a decent conversation, Severus."

"I'd prefer if you stopped acting like we're friends," he said coldly. "Unless you wish to tell me what it is exactly that Dumbledore's got you doing. And how it's come to involve me in the process."

"Ooh, it's confidential I'm afraid. Dumbledore wouldn't like it if he knew I'd broke his trust."

"Dumbledore happens to trust me. Which means there's nothing he knows that I don't know."

She gave him a wink. "So you know exactly who I am then."

He scowled, venomous words threatening to spill out of his mouth but he reeled himself from doing so. He hardly knew the woman and he'd made enough enemies to last a lifetime. If he needed any information off her, he'd have to come up with a better strategy than swearing the woman's head off. Seeing the internal struggle Severus was having with himself, the woman offered him a way out.

"Alright, I'll tell you what you want to know," she said with a serious look. "But only if you promise to stop trying to rip my arm off."

Severus realized then just how hard he was grabbing onto the poor woman's arm and released her. He wore an apologetic expression on his face but try as he might, the word 'sorry' was much to stubborn to ever come out his mouth. He watched as she rubbed the sore spot on her arm where his claw-like fingers had dug into.

"I've had worse bruises," she said, noticing the apprehensive look on his face. "Though with a grip like that...you sure you're not half-giant or something?"

He decided to ignore her comment and instead busied himself away with the clasp of his cloak. She had promised him information - and as long as she had something to impart, he supposed he could remain civil with her. The woman beckoned him to follow her, leading him to a small table in the back end of the room. She took her seat, pointing to the stool opposite her. He took his own seat, his face blank and unreadable as always.

"Right. First round's on me. What'd you like? A beer? Excellent! Jamie! Two beers, please!" she called despite Severus' protests. "Now that's settled, I suppose there's no reason to run round the bushes or whatever they say, is there? You've got questions for me?"

Before he could so much as open his mouth, a burly-looking man appeared before them. He was balancing a large tray on one hand which he then set down in front of the woman and Severus. He took a long, reproachful look at Severus before turning on his heels and disappearing behind a new crowd that had emerged.

"To Dumbledore!" said the woman as she struggled to lift the heavy glass in the air. Severus, however, did not entertain her.

"No," he said.

The woman made a face as she set the glass back down. "I bet you're great at parties," she muttered as she leaned over the tall glass and sipped from it.

"How I conduct myself at parties should be of no concern to you. Do you have a name, then?"

"Dorian."

"Dorian?" he asked, scoffing. 

The woman, Dorian, appeared offended by his comment. "What's wrong with Dorian?" she asked, vexed.

"Is there a surname that goes with that?"

Dorian leaned in close and drew an invisible knife across her throat. "If I tell ya, I'd most probably have to kill ya."

"Fine, then, Dorian, are you going to tell me what you're doing for Dumbledore? Aside from dropping in my home uninvited and delivering urgent messages from the old man, I mean."

She shrugged. "That's exactly what he's got me doing for him. I live quite close to you, you see, and he thought it'd be nice to have someone make sure you're alright."

"You're spying on me, you mean," Severus said in an accusatory tone.

"Spying?" Dorian asked, alarmed. "That's your job, innit? Mine's just to keep a close eye on you. Make sure you stay out of trouble. A fly on the wall, if you'd like.”

Severus blanched, slamming his fist against the table. "I don't need a babysitter, least of all one that looks like a child!"

Dorian cursed at him before taking a meaningful chug of her drink. "This child could knock you unconscious if you're not careful, Severus," she said menacingly.

"I'll ask you to stop referring to me as Severus, girl. For Merlin's sakes, how old are you?"

"For your information, Severus, I'm nearly twenty years old - hardly a child," she said with a deep frown etched across her forehead.

"You may think so now," he replied silkily. "But, Miss Dorian, when you're face to face with the Dark Lord or his Death Eaters, this thrill of danger and adrenaline you chase after so willingly will fade and reality will rub in. And when that time comes...when the time comes that your magic is useless against a man like him...you will understand you are nothing to him but an insolent child at his mercy. All you can do in that moment is drop to your knees and beg that he kill you quickly."

He watched as the girl's expression darkened. She appeared to be cross with him but he could not care less. He would not stand by and let another life be lost because of him.

"Do you think I have any other choice?" she asked.

Severus snickered. "You children-you're all the same. Everything is a game to you, isn't it? What choice do you have? What choice-a girl your age...the things you could be doing! You-you have family, don't you? People who care for you? Haven't you spared a thought for them? What if the Dark Lord discovered your position? You wouldn't just be giving me away...you'd be putting yourself and your family at mortal peril for me. For me! "

Dorian gave a hollow laugh. "Not going to be a problem for me," she said abruptly. "I don't have a family anymore. He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named got them a long time ago because they'd been against him. So, tell me, Severus, what else choice have I got but to avenge them and make sure their deaths were not in vain?"

Severus did not speak for a moment. In the end, he reached over to grab at his drink and took a long, careless chug. When he set it down, the glass was half-empty and Dorian was wearing a triumphant look on his face. He leaned in, already feeling the effect of the alcohol take its toll on him.

"Then fight and die," he replied softly. "Avenge your dead family if you must. But I won't have you do it on my account. Find someone else to spy on."

Dorian shook her head. "You don't understand. I'm not doing all this for you just because Dumbledore's asked me to."

Severus frowned. "What do you mean?" he asked.

"I was born in Spinner's End but my parents-they weren't from there. They were both active supporters for Muggleborn rights - given they were half-bloods, kind of speaks for itself, that does. The two of them worked at the Ministry after leaving Hogwarts. Mum was an Auror and Dad worked in the Administrative Registration Department. This was long ago-before you-know-who got himself done in by that Potter kid...you know you-know-who was using his Death Eaters -you're familiar with them, I reckon-to hunt down Muggleborns and kill them."

Severus nodded, absent-mindedly tracing the Dark Mark on his forearm as he listened.

"Well, mum and dad were helping Dumbledore with moving the Muggleborns to safety. Mum would get the list of targets off of captured Death Eaters and Dad would use his position in the registration committee to relocate the targets to safety. That was until you-know-who infiltrated the Ministry and got his goons working in here. It got harder to move the Muggleborns through the Ministry so my parents had to come up with an alternative location. One of mum's old friends had written to her a while back about this place called Spinner's End, you see. Said it was quiet and filled with the worst sort of Muggles - turned out to be the place my parents were looking for. Didn't think those dirty Death Eaters - sorry - would come looking for Muggleborns in a place like that. They moved there and a few months later, I was born."

"What happened then?" Severus asked, dreading the answer.

Dorian gave a sad smile. "My parents' positions were compromised. The Death Eaters took them from the Ministry and tortured them for information for days. But mum and dad wouldn't tell them," she replied proudly.

"So they killed them," Severus replied.

"Dad went first. He'd taken a swing at one of them and mum had managed to grab his wand. But they couldn't Disapparate, you see. There'd been some kind of jinx or spell or something that had them trapped in that cell. But mum managed to make it out of there."

Severus thought it appropriate to give the girl a moment of silence before pressing on. "She escaped?"

Dorian nodded. "She came back for me. Gave me this before leaving to try and get dad out of there."

As she spoke, she tugged on a chain that hung neatly across her neck. Attached to the chain link was a tiny bottle with swirling white smoke, the stopper was the shape of a small blackbird.

"A bunch of memories of her, dad and me," Dorian replied, smiling. "I think she knew she wouldn't be coming back."

"She shouldn't have," said Severus shrewdly. "She should've known it would have warranted in both her and her husband's death."

"I'm glad she did. Any chance of saving him is better than no chance at all."

Severus made a noise. "Leaving a child to be orphaned is hardly deserving of a praise."

"I don't care," Dorian said. "If there was a chance that she'd have come back with him..."

"But she didn't. And in the process, she'd left you there all alone. How old were you?"

"Six," Dorian said in a small voice.

"Six," Severus repeated. And then, "How come I don't recall you at Hogwarts? I've been teaching there for more than fifteen years-"

"Oh, I didn't go," said Dorian simply.

Severus' eyebrow shot across his forehead. "You didn't go?"

"Yeah. I got the letter, naturally. Dumbledore came down to invite me himself...said my parents had done him a great favor before. They'd helped move the Potters you know...they were the last before...anyway, Dumbledore said I could just stay at the castle but I'd refused. My parents had left me with enough money and mind you, my Great Aunt Greta came to take care of me, too. She was too frightened to let me leave for school and I didn't want to go either."

"So you grew up without magic?"

"Oh, yes, I learned magic. Great Aunt Greta taught me. She'd taken me to Ollivanders to get me my wand and everything. Taught me all kinds of spells, jinxes and curses, too. Said in her house, she was a Slytherin, it was kill or be killed. So I learned everything she'd had to teach me. When I was older, she moved back with her kids in the Americas. I was fine with it. I just went about day to day with my own stuff, really. Practicing my potions and wandwork and all that...and then last year, that Diggory boy died and Potter said you-know-who was back. I knew it'd only be a matter of time before history repeated itself so I went deep into researching my parents' work. They'd left everything behind...how they smuggled Muggleborns and where they'd move them. I went to Dumbledore and told him I'd help him move any of you-know-who's targets if he needed me to. That was when he asked me to help keep an eye on you. Said you were his spy and asked me to convey any messages he'd had to give you. And, he also said that you could help me with something I'd been wanting to know for a long time."

Severus was interested at last. "And what might that be, Miss Dorian?"

"I want to know who it was that killed my parents," she replied. "So that I can kill them."

"No," Severus replied, getting to his feet. 

"You must," Dorian argued. "You have to. I won't let those bastards get away with it. They took my parents from me."

"If you have to blame anyone, Miss Dorian, then blame your parents. They knew what they were getting into-they knew the risks, as do you. And if you go down this path, you'll end up just like them."

"How can you say that?" Dorian shouted, her eyes brimming with tears now. "They saved people! Hundreds of them! You think they deserved to die?"

"No one asked them to," said Severus coolly.

"What about you, then?" she asked rather fiercely. "You've saved people, too, haven't you? If you die, would you think you'd have deserved it?"

Severus felt as though he had been slapped. A singular image stood in his mind's eye, staring at him with bright green and lifeless eyes.

"Yes," he said. "Good evening, Miss Dorian. I will be returning to Hogwarts tonight which means your...ah, services...will no longer be required. You may go back to whatever it is you were doing before you met me."

As Severus walked away, he turned round to see Dorian still sitting there, slumped over her drink. He shook his head disapprovingly. She was much too young and foolish about the world. She had no idea the dangers that awaited her out there. And her parents...they'd been selfish enough to have left her behind all alone. He would have to talk to Dumbledore about this. The old man was going too far these days. Putting a girl like that in his path would only bring about an early death for her. 

Just as Severus passed by the server that had brought him his drink earlier, an older-looking man with white hair and falling-out teeth stuck his hand out to stop him. The man's face was red and he began to chortle aloud.

"You-you're Tobias Snape's boy, aren't ya?" the man slurred.

Severus froze in his place, looking down at the man. 

"Say-say-you are, aren't ya? Look just like him, too! Spittin' image-though yer dad was a bit more fit, weren't he? Don't they feed ya enough, boy?"

When Severus gave no response, the man began to wheeze as he laughed.

"Too good for us, now, are ya? Tobias always said you had no manners an' all...how's yer mum? Eileen, weren't it, yer mum?"

"She's dead," Severus said quietly. "Your friend Tobias killed her."

The man shook his head. "No-no, Tobias loved her! Yer mum was a sickly woman...always ill...stuck-up like you were, too, when Tobias brought her home. Thought she was better than us lot, didn't she?" he said, laughing.

Severus grabbed the man's collar and tugged him close. "If you speak another word about my mother, Muggle..."

But the man did not stop laughing. "Its Tobias' boy, alright! How is he-haven't...haven't seen him round...your mum been keepin' him locked up, has she? Tell her-tell her to let him come back here...tonight...drinks on me...old Tobias would like that..."

Severus released the Muggle man with a snort. "If that coward ever shows his tail around here, I'll kill him myself," he said.

Though there was nothing remotely funny with Severus' threat, the old man continued to roar with laughter. He regarded the man with a look of disgust before he stormed out of the pub. Stepping out at last, Severus allowed himself a moment to catch his own breath. He began to walk, digging into his cloak as he did. He withdrew his last cigarette, stuck it in his mouth and lit it. He stopped for a moment, taking a long drag before exhaling. Relief began to pound into him, gathering his lost senses and returning him to reality.

He was going back to Hogwarts, he thought. Finally.

Chapter Text

Upon reaching Hogwarts, Severus' mission was clear: he needed to get to his quarters without coming across the other staff members of the school. It wasn't the fact that he didn't want to see them. On the contrary, Severus found he had missed Minerva's light teases and Filius' unfunny jokes. Hell, he had even missed Trelawney's sudden bursts of insane proclamations of death expectations for the year - though, he realized rather ironically that she might finally gain credibility before the year was over. That is, if Severus went through with Dumbledore's planned assassination at all. Still, all of this aside, Severus preferred to at least have an hour or two to himself before he was surrounded by inane questions of how he'd spend the summer. When he had reached his room, he clambered to seal it before anyone so much as caught a whiff of his return to the school. As soon as he heard the locks going into place, he gave a breath of relief, turning to gaze at the stack of untouched papers on his desk.

It was rather dark and it wasn't until Severus had lit the candles in the room did he notice the small creature perched atop the wardrobe in the corner.

"Winky!" Severus exclaimed in surprise. "What are you doing in here?"

The house-elf offered him a gratuitous nod of her head before leaping to her feet smoothly, scurrying towards him as fast as her little legs could carry. 

"Master Snape!" she squeaked with delight. "It is good to have you back here, sir. Winky has missed you."

Severus, however, regarded her rather sternly. "How did you get in? I thought I made it clear that no one was supposed to enter my rooms when I was away?"

Winky cowered back and Severus flinched at her response. "My apologies, Master Snape, but Winky thought it was important for Winky to be here when you returned, sir. But if Master Snape wishes, Winky will punish herself for her disobedience-"

"That won't be necessary," he said as he strode towards her. He bent down to examine the house-elf and was rather pleased to see her looking well and healthy. "You've stopped drinking."

"Oh, yes, Master Snape. Winky has a new friend now. He makes sure Winky does not get intoxicated anymore. Winky is happy now, sir."

"Dobby," Severus said with a disapproving frown. "Potter's house-elf."

"Oh, no, sir," replied Winky. "Dobby is a free elf. But Dobby insists to help Mr. Potter whenever he can. Just like how Winky is helping you always, sir."

Severus got to his feet and brisked towards his desk. His potions cabinet was nearly empty thanks to Dolores Umbridge's constant demands of interrogation potions every other week. It appeared he would have to spare a short trip to Diagon Alley to replenish his stocks, preferably before the little dunderheads returned to the castle. As he began to file through his drawers, he could hear Winky moving incessantly behind him. When it was too much to ignore, he turned round to see her hopping from one foot to the other. Her hands were pulling at the old rags that covered her, dragging it up so it hid her face. Severus muttered something under his breath before he faced the elf.

"Winky," he said slowly, "is there something you wish to tell me-"

"Master Snape is in danger, sir!" she suddenly belted out. Looking horrified with herself, Winky stuffed a fist into her mouth and began to choke herself. Severus quickly rushed to restrain the house-elf, shaking her so she would stop harming herself.

"Winky! Winky-stop-! What-are-you-talking-about? What-danger?"

Winky's wide eyes were full of tears when Severus finally released her. She stared at him, shaking her head weakly as she spoke. "Winky cannot say! Winky cannot say! Or else Winky will be a very bad house-elf!"

"No," Severus said breathlessly, grabbing Winky's arm before she could stuff it back into her mouth. "No, just tell me. I won't punish you."

"Winky cannot, sir! She fears it might come true if Winky does!"

Severus gave an exasperated sigh. "Then you shouldn't have said anything at all!"

He released her once more and she staggered back, crying now. "Winky cannot tell you what is the danger, sir. But Winky can warn you, sir."

"Go on," he said encouragingly.

"Professor Dumbledore will give you a gift, sir. But you must not take it or you will be in mortal peril, sir. You must tell Professor Dumbledore no, sir."

Severus smiled grimly. "I'm afraid not, Winky. I've already agreed to it - though, I'd hardly call it a gift."

Winky's eyes widened even further. "You already know about it, sir?"

"Do you?" Severus asked, frowning. "I didn't think Albus would go about parading his plans to anyone, least of all, to you...or did you overhear our conversation in his office the other day?"

Winky shook her head. "Winky thinks Master Snape doesn't know what Winky talks about. I heard it from Professor Trelawney, sir."

"Trelawney?" Severus exclaimed in disbelief. "What's that lunatic been telling you about me, Winky?"

"Winky must go now, sir. Please, sir, you must not accept the gift, sir. It is a curse-oh, Winky has said too much!"

Before he could so much as utter a word, the house-elf snapped her fingers and vanished. Suddenly exhausted, Severus fell back on the floor. This was precisely why he hadn't wanted to meet anyone at all before dinner.

Properly showered and dressed, Severus made his way towards the Great Hall. His fingers ran through his hair, missing the way the long strands would hang loosely over his fingers. He had cut off a decent amount of it after the mishap with Abbott's machine and Narcissa had done a worse job trying to mend it back. Now, his hair hung about over his face messily. But try as he did, he could not bring himself to care or bother with it any longer. There were more important things to tend to than his appearance at dinner, after all. Winky's warning had set off an alarming ringing bell in his head and he found himself wondering if this was a sign that this year would be much worse than the last one.

He had stopped to sulk at one of the paintings when he felt a steel grip over his shoulders. Severus turned round to see the familiar old woman in midnight green robes with a somewhat presentable expression. She looked over him with her peering eyes as she usually did. He allowed her to inspect him, averting his gaze on the portraits scattered along the stairway until she decided he was in good health.

"Severus," she said with a kind smile. "It's good to have you back at last. You're not planning on leaving us so soon again, I hope?"

He smirked as though he were enjoying an inside joke. "Only time will tell, I suppose. But it is good to be back. I was just on my way to dinner, if you're thinking of joining me?"

"I'm afraid Albus needs a word first. He's in his office."

Severus held back the urge to roll his eyes "We can speak at dinner," he replied.

"Albus doesn't do dinners anymore, I'm afraid," Minerva said. "He's ill, I'm sure you know by now, and thinks it would do him some good to gather his strength before the students return."

"I see," replied shortly. "I'd better go see him."

He did not wait for a response but turned to move in the opposite direction of the stairway.

"Oh, and Severus-I expect you'll learn soon enough but...congratulations are in order," Minerva called out after him. Despite her well-wishes, there was something dark and grim in the way she had said it.

Severus observed the older woman as she descended the stairs, only making his way to Dumbledore's office when she had disappeared from his vision.

By the time he arrived at Dumbledore's office, the entrance was already open. He quickly stepped through the narrow stairway into the headmaster's office, calling out Dumbledore's name as he went.

"Severus, come...come..." came a weak voice from inside.

As Severus entered, he saw Dumbledore in his tall armchair. The man looked absolutely dreadful, his face pale and drained, hair whiter than it normally was. Severus spared a fleeting look at Dumbledore's withered hand that hung limply on the arm of his chair. 

"Sit..." Dumbledore said.

Severus ignored his commands and instead strode up to the old man, placing his palm gentle across the headmaster's wrinkled forehead. 

"You don't seem well," he commented.

"Tends to happen when you've got less than a year to live, I'm afraid," Dumbledore replied, his eyes twinkling.

Severus frowned. "Do you truly not care that you will be dead soon? Are you that willing to accept death?"

Dumbledore smiled. "When you've lived a lifetime as I have, Severus, death becomes something you look forward to. But for you, I hope, that will be a long time coming."

"Don't be daft," Severus said with a snort. "You and I both know I'm not making it out of this alive."

"Your pessimism saddens me, Severus," Dumbledore said sadly. "Will you promise me that you will at least do your best to survive the war? If not for my sake, then for the boy's."

"For Potter?" Severus said, raising his brow.

"All in due time," said Dumbledore. "Alas, I did not call you in here to invite yet another argument with you, nor debate on the lengths of our lifespans. Please, Severus, sit."

Severus gave a discontented grumble under his breath but he sat all the same. "What do you want, then?"

"On the contrary, Severus, you'll find that this time, I have something to offer you instead."

"What is it?" he asked, his face etched with dislike over what the headmaster might have planned for him. "You know I don't like surprises."

"Which is why I've summoned you here instead of letting you find it out for yourself at dinner."

"Dumbledore..." Severus said warningly.

Dumbledore chuckled, turning towards Fawkes who had chosen this exact moment to zoom about the room as if in glee. Above them, Severus heard Phineas Nigellus complain about Dumbledore taking much too long to break the news.

"Horace Slughorn has been reinstated as a Hogwarts Professor as of three days ago," Dumbledore said, clasping his hands together.

Severus clenched his jaw. "If you think that is pleasing news to my ears, then I'm afraid-"

"He is to replace you as Potions Master, Severus," Dumbledore said calmly. "And you are to assume the position as the Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor this year."

Fawkes gave another cry of delight before swooping down to perch on his stand. Severus, however, did not speak for a moment as he digested this information. It was at this moment that he recalled Winky's warning from earlier.

"Why?" Severus asked in a voice of defeat. "Why now?"

Dumbledore took in a deep breath before exhaling. "You have asked me for many years now why I have refused to give you that particular position."

"And you have failed to answer me each year. People have guessed over the years, though...most think it is because you feel I might be tempted into my old ways if I were to teach the students." said Severus dryly. The inside of his mouth felt bitter as he recalled how Mad-Eye had accused him of this just two years ago. It hadn't actually been him, just Barty Crouch Jr. in disguise, but the words had pierced him all the same.

The old man shook his head. "There will never be a moment, in this life or the next, that I would ever suspect your treachery to me or our cause, Severus. Not from the time we met on that hilltop many years ago, do you understand?"

Severus felt his mouth go dry as he nodded. There was a strange warmth that trickled deep in his chest at Dumbledore's words and he willed himself not to think about it. This was no time for sentiments, not when the man sitting opposite him would be gone from his life forever in a few months' time.

"My rejection comes from a greater cause of concern. You have noticed, I am sure, that Hogwarts has not been able to see through one Defense professor for more than a year?"

At this, Severus laughed aloud. "Surely you're not telling me you believe in this nonsense about the position being cursed?"

The darkened expression in Dumbledore's face was answer enough. Severus' short bit of humor vanished, instantly replaced with a burst of anger.

"That's why you've denied me all these years? For some-some silly curse-? This is ridiculous!"

"That, it is not, Severus. The curse is real and was enacted by none other than Lord Voldemort himself."

Severus' mouth was agape. "The-the Dark Lord-? But how-?"

"Many years ago, he came to meet with me. He had come to ask if I would consider his application to be a staff here at Hogwarts...he'd wanted to be the Defense professor, you see. Quite confident that I would accept him, too," Dumbledore said rather amusedly. "Nothing wrong with that, of course. He had already established himself as a powerful wizard at the time...and his fraternization with well-known pureblood families was bound to set him on a path of success. That is to anyone who wasn't me, of course."

"You rejected him," said Severus quietly. "You rejected the Dark Lord."

"I rejected Tom Riddle," Dumbledore replied. "He was a strong wizard, yes, but he was arrogant. He believed himself above others and that included me. There was also the fact that he did not care to hide the evil behind his eyes and his thoughts to me. I knew him, even before he had arrived here at Hogwarts, and knew there was no way I would ever give such a despicable being control over the children."

"You gave me control," Severus said, his eyes flitting towards the twinkling blue pair. 

Dumbledore sighed. "That was a mistake on my part, too. I knew putting you in charge of children would be nothing short of disastrous...but a part of me had thought...had hoped, even, that surrounding yourself with people again might reel you back from the devastation you suffered over Lily Potter's death."

"You were mistaken," Severus said coldly. 

Ï was, wasn't I?" Dumbledore said sadly. "A part of me wonders if my selfishness has kept you from living a better life than this."

"If it weren't for your selfishness, Dumbledore, I suspect I would have been dead a long time ago," Severus said in a grating voice. "I am only alive because you convinced me I could still be useful to the world."

There were tears in Dumbledore's eyes that he did not hide away from Severus. He allowed them to fall freely onto his face and the older man's vulnerable state drove Severus to glance away from him. "If it is my selfishness that has kept you alive all these years, then I am grateful for it."

Severus cleared his throat. "So the Dark Lord put the curse on the DADA position because you rejected him? And it's been in place ever since?"

"Yes," said Dumbledore. "I'm afraid so."

"So why are you giving it to me now? Have you found a way to break the curse?"

"Oh, I'm afraid the curse will only break once Voldemort is well and truly destroyed. Until then, it will be quite in tact. But with the way the events are lined up for the year, I fear your position as a Hogwarts professor runs on borrowed time."

"So..." whispered Severus. "So...you think that after I...after you die...I won't be needed here anymore?"

"Lord Voldemort himself has made that clear, hasn't he, Severus? He intends for you to be the one to kill me in the end because he seeks out proof of your loyalty to him. Once that is cemented through my death, you will take over as his right-hand man until the war is over. When Lucius Malfoy and Bellatrix Lestrange have failed him, you are the only remaining pawn he will try to use to secure his victory. I do not think he can achieve that by having you prolonging your stay here at Hogwarts."

"And you expect me to be by his side, do you?"

"You must if you have any intention at all to see us win this war, Severus."

"Us," Severus said roughly, "there is no us. You'll be dead soon and I'll be the one left to clean after you, Dumbledore."

"Oh, I daresay I'll find one way or another to remain here after my death. For now, let us take comfort in what memories we may make until that time presents itself. Come, Professor, shall we attend dinner together? The castle has missed its Potions Master dearly, I must say..."

"Will Slughorn be taking over my office, then, now that he's the new Potions professor?" asked Severus with a scowl.

Dumbledore appeared amused by his question. "What's a Potions Master without an office of his own?"

Severus rolled his eyes. "That old walrus couldn't keep track of his own inventory even when I was at school-it'd be best if I managed the office...he can have the DADA office-I've heard its much larger and cozier than the dungeons."

"As you wish. I'll have a word with Horace. Now, come, Severus, I am all eager to learn how you've spent the summer with Peter Pettigrew..."

With nothing left to say, Severus watched as the headmaster got to his feet, swaying slightly as he did. Severus quickly went to his aid, placing an arm around the older man's back to stabilize him. He was getting weaker, Severus thought, though he made no mention of it. Dumbledore was an intelligent man; he was sure to have recognized the spread of the curse from his hand to the rest of his limbs by now. In a few months' time, Albus Dumbledore would be paralyzed before his death eventually came. Until then, Severus vowed to do all he could to grant the man whatever relief he could.

Chapter Text

A silent shiver that rippled through his spine woke Severus at an ungodly hour. A harsh curse lingered on the tip of his tongue but he found he could not so much as speak let alone move. It was as though his entire body had shut down, his limbs weak and frozen. There was an unbearable taste of metal that filled his mouth - he later realized it was because he had bitten his tongue from the sudden pain that seared through him. Severus at last gave a small involuntary cry as his body jerked and shuddered out of control, drawing unsolicited tears from him. A second later he understood what was happening and that at least gave him a sense of control.

He was having a seizure. It had been a while but the familiarity of the pain that followed such a condition was welcomed quite openly. It was, in its own right, a wonderful distraction from the nightmare he had slumbered into just moments before. His dreams were always the same; he would first see the blank, lifeless eyes of Lily Potter staring up at him. And then the corpse would blink and speak to him as though she were alive again. But there was no light in her eyes, no twinkle that he so fondly remembered from so very long ago. She appeared haunted and broken-almost possessed, even. But whenever he tried to speak or touch her, she would run towards him and as she did, she would crumble into dust. 

Severus closed his eyes and allowed the pain to wash over him in waves. There was nothing he could do to stop this. Poppy had warned him many months ago that this would happen. His body was failing him, it had been through too much. She had also told him to just let it happen. As Severus relaxed into it, he could feel the twisted claw-like fingers slowly unfurl. Three minutes passed before his body returned to its normal state. Severus breathed through his nose, wishing his fingers would stop trembling already. He winced as his  tongue grazed against the inside of his cheeks, which he had bitten to stop himself from crying out. He would have to work on a healing potion tomorrow while he still had time. If he made just enough to last the year, he wouldn't even have to bother Poppy. A year was all he needed, after all, what with Dumbledore practically confirming that his time at Hogwarts was reaching its end. The old man was right. If Dumbledore was dead, he would be truly alone. There wouldn't be anyone left who believed in him or trusted him as the headmaster had. He would have to leave the school and return to his Master's side. And then everyone would know. They would know that it was Severus that had been responsible for Albus Dumbledore's death. 

It was for this reason that Severus had decided to keep away from the others this year. He would keep Poppy and Minerva, even Dumbledore, at an arms length if he truly wanted them to believe he was disloyal to the Order. It had been a difficult decision to make, and his heart ached just a little more than it usually did, but the sacrifice was necessary.

Severus rolled to his side, willing himself to close his mind from such sentimental thoughts. His melancholy, however, was rudely interrupted by a high-pitched screech outside. Severus jumped to his feet, staggering to grab his wand atop the dresses before scrambling to rush outside. More concerned for the danger outside than his appearance, Severus dashed out into the hallway. He stopped mid-track when he met eyes with the figures standing outside his office.

"Severus," announced Minerva McGonagall coyly. "Did we disturb you? That's ten galleons, Filius."

Severus stared hard at the scene before him. Slughorn and Trelawney were kneeling on the floor, and they appeared to be playing gobstones while Minerva and Filius stood around them. 

"What in Merlin's name is going on?" Severus asked.

"I really thought he'd have ignored it," Filius replied, sticking his hand into his pocket and withdrawing a couple of galleons. He popped it onto Minerva's extended hand with a haughty expression.

"Gobstones, Severus!" Slughorn replied a little too late, turning round to greet Severus just as a Gobstone exploded over Trelawney's face.

"And why, may I ask, are you doing that outside of my chambers at this time of the night?" asked Severus with a deep frown.

Minerva ushered him to stand next to her as Trelawney let out another horrified cry. To Severus' astonishment, she threw her head back and began to shout out in an unknown language. Slughorn stared with bewilderment, obviously not used to having witnessed the woman's disturbing behavior before. Severus quickly strode over to where Minerva was, his arms crossed.

"Explain, please, Professor McGonagall, before I lose my head."

Minerva simpered as she glanced over Severus. "There's no need bite my head now, Severus. We were all in the staff room going through the list of the new first-year students when Sybill here barged in, proclaiming that a great evil had descended upon the school."

"No," Severus said sarcastically. "Really?"

"Wait until you hear the rest of it. She said that tonight, a soul was in danger and the only way to save it was to challenge Horace to a game of Gobstones. Which had to happen here, of all places."

"I hope it didn't say anything about letting her win," Slughorn remarked, turning round to look at them again. "Don't think she's very good at it."

Severus raised his brows as he turned to Minerva. "And you're all just entertaining her nonsense now, are you?"

Filius chuckled under his breath. "Well, Horace left before Sybill joined us, didn't he? Had no idea what he'd got himself into, the poor chap. He thinks she might actually be onto something with her prophecies."

"I'm just not one to take risks, my boy," replied Slughorn as he aimed for yet another one of Trelawney's gobstones. It struck as intended and a putrid liquid burst out, spraying Trelawney's face. She gave another wailing screech before diving in to collect her three remaining pieces.

"Ending it already, Sybill?" Slughorn asked, confused.

"The-the Oracles have spoken-they believe the life has been saved! There is no need for us to prolong this game...it is obvious where it is headed," Trelawney replied quietly.

"Oh, but I've already placed my wagers, Sybill, dear. If you are withdrawing, surely it counts as forfeit?" Minerva jumped in.

Filius threw her an unhappy look as he pulled out another few pieces of Galleons, handing it to a smirking Minerva.

"You're all done now, are you? I can finally get back to sleep?" Severus asked in an irritated voice.

"All done now," said Minerva, pocketing the Galleons. "Severus, a word?"

Severus let out a small groan as the other three professors began to disperse. He glanced at Minerva whose amusement had turned into a worried look now.

"Are you alright, Severus? You look awfully pale."

"I'm always pale, Minerva. Will there be anything else?"

"You seem...ill. And different. Has something happened?" she asked, concerned.

He shook his head weakly. There was no need to worry Minerva with his health. "I'm fine. Just tired, I suppose."

"Yes, I'm sure. I can't imagine you would've been able to sleep well with Peter Pettigrew right under your nose," said Minerva. "How is he by the way?"

Severus let out a rigid snort. "As terrible as you expect him to be. A traitorous coward like him will never know peace, I suppose."

"A befitting punishment for betraying the two people who trusted him most in the whole world."

Severus felt his throat dry up as he nodded. 

"Will you join us at breakfast tomorrow?" Minerva continued unfazed by his sudden withdrawal.

"I'm afraid not. Potions stocks are too low, I fear they may not be sufficient by the time term begins," Severus replied with a shrug.

"You do realize it's no longer your responsibility to do so, Severus? I'm sure Horace will be more than happy to keep track of the Potions inventory," said Minerva sharply.

"And you trust that old fool to do that, do you? I think not...I don't want to have to come cleaning up after him and doing twice the work later."

"Suit yourself. Lunch, then, perhaps?"

Severus shrugged again. "I'll have to see."

Minerva eyed him again before softly sighing. "Do take care of yourself, won't you, Severus? Or I'll set Poppy off on you."

He gave a brief nod. "Good night, Minerva."

"Good night, Severus. Oh, and by the way, you must tell me where you found those nifty socks. Quite charming, if I do say so myself."

Severus followed her gaze to his feet, seeing the awful pink and yellow cat-printed socks he was wearing. He flushed, his cheeks turning red.

"Dumbledore?" Minerva asked, her lips twitching.

He nodded, scowling. Without another word, he left Minerva standing there looking quite pleased with herself. He let out an annoyed huff once he reached his quarters. He was back for less than a day and already Minerva had started smothering him with concerns of his health. As he approached his bed, his nose began to flare as a pungent smell lingered over the air. He realized a half-second later that it was poisonous belladonna gas that had been deposited over the room. Severus wasted no time as he rushed out of his room and locked the door behind him.

Someone had tried to poison him tonight, he thought as he made his way to Dumbledore's office. Someone had tried to kill him, and Severus would stop at nothing until he found out who it was.

Chapter Text

The air was riddled with heightening tension as Severus sat in Dumbledore's study, wearing his usual night gown and the embarrassing socks which he'd forgotten all about. Next to him was Minerva who looked equally unnerved, her gaze lingering on Severus' face more often than not. The headmaster, meanwhile, looked absolutely calm as he relaxed against his chair, eyes closed and a soft hum on his lips. The door was thrown open and Hagrid appeared with Sybill Trelawney by his side.

"Hullo, Professors! Dumbledore, sir, brought Professor Trelawney here as you asked. She was wandering the grounds saying somethin' about the weeds that's preventing good weather-"

"Thank you, Hagrid. That'll be all," Dumbledore said, rising to his feet. Severus had also gotten to his feet and was growing more upset by the minute.

"Look here, Dumbledore, I don't see what she," said Severus as he glowered at Trelawney, "has anything to do with this. We need to stop wasting time if we're going to find out-"

"Severus, please," Dumbledore said, lifting his blackened hand. Severus fell silent, sighing in defeat as he slumped back onto his seat. Minerva shook her head disapprovingly at him before she turned to Dumbledore.

"My dear Sybill, come, we must have a talk," Dumbledore called, ushering the madwoman to where the rest of them sat by his desk. He snapped his fingers and a chair from the other corner of the room began to drag itself up to placing itself next to Minerva. Trelawney did as asked, her hands nervously twitching as she played with the frame of her spectacles. She made a brief comment about how the seating arrangement was wrong but Dumbledore had shot Severus a rather strict glance before he could so much as open his mouth.

"Is something wrong, Headmaster?" Trelawney asked with innocence in her voice. Severus rolled his eyes.

"What's wrong, she asks. There has been an attempt on my life, Trelawney, and everyone here seems to think you'd know who it was," he said gruffly.

"She certainly predicted it, didn't she?" Minerva said sharply. "Honestly, Severus, if Sybill hadn't brought us all down to the dungeons with her dream, you would have been poisoned in your sleep!"

"It was not a dream, Minerva. It was a prophecy," Trelawney corrected. "I am a Seer, as most of you know already."

Severus saw Minerva's lips twitch as if she was about to say something rather harsh but withheld it, much to Severus' annoyance. It felt that up to this point, him and Minerva had agreed on what a sham Trelawney was and to have her disagree with him now, of all days, was nothing short of a disappointment.

"Yes, a...prophecy," replied Minerva with a light shrug.

"Would you care to elaborate on it, Sybill? It turned out the soul you mentioned saving was none other than Severus himself," Dumbledore said softly. "Someone had tried to poison him tonight."

Trelawney leaned over her chair to look past Minerva and at him. She appeared very nonchalant about the news of attempted assassination on Severus' life. Then again, he supposed the witch disliked him enough not to give him an adequate response. He had, after all, taken every opportunity to try and discredit her...skills. He was almost entirely sure he was right, too, for the woman's entire character seemed too far-fetched and the uncouth manner of her announcements only added more to her derangement. But something nagged at him, still. She had been right once before, he thought. It was her prophecy, which Severus had delivered to the Dark Lord himself, that had led to the murder of James and Lily Potter, and the Dark Lord's initial downfall at the hands of their son. She had been the one to have predicted that all those years ago. And tonight, again, her strange behavior of calling upon the rest of the staff to play Gobstones in front of his chambers had been what had gotten him out of bed and away from the likely intruder in the room. As realization hit, Severus stood up.

"Severus?" Dumbledore asked, a little alarmed by the sudden movement.

"Whoever it was that let slip that poison in the room, they must have been in there the entire time," Severus said. "We were all outside and no one had tried to sneak past us-and as soon as I realized it was Belladonna gas, I locked the door behind me so-"

"-so, whoever it was, they might still be in your room," said Minerva as she followed in Severus' pursuit. "We must search your room immediately."

"It will take time for the gas to disperse, Severus, Minerva. If the intruder has not yet found an escape, we may assume that they may have succumbed to the poison itself. We shall wait until the morning when enough time for the gas to be fatal has passed," Dumbledore said calmly. "Now, Sybill, if you could so kindly repeat the prophecy which you saw earlier."

Trelawney blinked rather stupidly as Severus and Minerva resumed their seats.

"Headmaster, as you are aware, I have difficulty remembering myself whenever these things happen," Trelawney replied hastily. "But if there is another way..."

Dumbledore smiled kindly. "You will not object if I ask to share your memories of the time with me? I believe it may help us get closer to solving this entire ordeal."

Trelawney shook her head. "Do as you please, Headmaster. I owe you as much after everything you went through to save me from Dolores Umbridge."

"Will that be all?" Severus asked rudely. 

Dumbledore gave a brief nod. "I've already sent word to Poppy and had her arrange a bed at the hospital wing for you, Severus. She's probably waiting for you now. Though, I must warn you...she insists on performing a thorough examination before letting you sleep. She thinks you may have ingested bits of the poison."

"Right," Severus said with a scowl. He got to his feet and swiftly nodded to Dumbledore and Minerva. "Headmaster. Minerva."

As Severus turned to leave, he heard the drag of a chair and Trelawney clearing her throat.

"You know, young man, I would have expected a thank-you," she said. Severus turned around, his brow raised.

"Thank you? For what?" he asked sarcastically.

"Dumbledore said it himself. I saved your life tonight, Severus Snape."

Severus flushed a deep red, a scowl fixed permanently on his face as he regarded her with dislike. "You will find that you didn't. Not really."

"I beg your pardon?"

"I saved myself by leaving my room. You certainly did not come in to ask me to evacuate, did you? Dumbledore may entertain your nonsense, Trelawney, but I certainly won't. We all know what you are."

"Severus!" Minerva exclaimed.

"What?" he asked. "It's true. You've said it yourself. If I were you Dumbledore, I'd stop giving her all this credit because it's just pushing her to add to her ridiculous act. Honestly, I don't even see why she has to teach-"

"Severus," Dumbledore said, his face darkening. "That will be enough. Professor Trelawney is as good a teacher as you."

Severus felt his cheeks burning once more. "Fine. Oh, and Trelawney-you'd do best not to spout your nonsense to my house-elf. You've frightened her enough as it is."

"Your house-elf, Severus?" Dumbledore quizzed.

"You know what I meant," Severus said sputtering. "Who I meant." 

When the rest of them continued to stare up at him blankly, he gave an exasperated sigh. "Winky."

"And what has Sybill been telling Winky?"

"Ask her yourself," Severus said spitefully. "But if she comes near her again..."

"Oh, you wretched boy!" Trelawney cried out. "You'll threaten me? In front of the headmaster himself? I should've known-from the first time I met you in that pub-ill-mannered and-and-ungrateful! I saved your life!"

Minerva seemed very amused by Trelawney's sudden interjection. 

"Saved? Saved?" Severus snarled. "You did nothing! You did not save me! No one can!"

There was a very awkward pause as Trelawney jumped back in fear, her body hitting Dumbledore's desk rather painfully so. Minerva had stepped in front of Trelawney and looked rather startled by Severus' sudden eruption. It seemed clear that she, too, appeared rather disturbed by his behavior. There were heavy footfalls behind Severus and as he turned, Slughorn had come running up the stairs and into Dumbledore's office.

"What's-what's happening-I heard shouting-Hagrid said something about an attack-Severus-"

Slughorn was panting for his life as he squeezed in as much words as he possibly could. Severus bit back a sharp retort and gave one fleeting look at Dumbledore. The old man was apprehensive but he did not comment when Severus swept past Slughorn and towards the exit.

Severus was awakened by the sound of cheery birds chirping in the air and large volume of sunlight streaming across his face. He lay there for a moment, comforted by the odd sounds of nature outside the window. It was a rather welcoming change after having spent more than a decade of his life waking up in the cold dungeon air, where there was neither sound nor comfort. But he could not help but feel estranged by the presence of all this warmth. Rather, he felt undeserving of it all.

"Good, you're up," said Poppy somewhere from around the room. Severus mustered to open his eye and even then it was brief, simply to locate where the matron was.

"Am I dying?" he asked in an attempt to be funny.

"No, unfortunately," Poppy replied. He felt her presence next to him and could not help an odd smile. When he opened her eyes, he saw Poppy staring back at him with a puzzled look.

"Are you feeling alright, Severus?" she asked.

"Why?"

"It's just...well, you're...smiling. I didn't think you were capable of it."

He did not know why but Severus chuckled despite himself, earning yet another astonishing stare from the older woman.

"I'm alright, Poppy," Severus replied. "I just feel..."

"Good?" she asked. "I'll tell you why that is. It's because you slept well enough for the first time in your life! Look at you-went and got yourself malnourished after leaving here, didn't you?"

Severus smirked. "It is good to be back," he said, stretching lazily across the bed.

"Severus, you've been going to meet Abbott, haven't you?" Poppy asked in a low voice. "It's just...Dumbledore mentioned your little tantrum last night-"

"I've been going to see Abbott, Poppy. Last night-I was just tired and on edge, is all," he said, baring his teeth.

"And she thinks you're well? She didn't say anything?"

"I'll be fine. Meeting with her seems to be working."

Severus watched as relief spread into the older woman's face. He wondered if he'd ever see her like this again after the year was over and felt that familiar dull ache pushing through him.

"There," she said with a shake of her head. "There, you went and thought of something bad again, didn't you? I shouldn't have brought up Abbott, Severus, I'm sorry-"

"Don't be. You're just making sure I'm alright," he said with a faint smile.

"Breakfast?" she asked.

He nodded even though his stomach had turned sick at the thought of even Poppy turning against him once Dumbledore was dead. She would never see Severus again after this year, though he was sure he would be more miserable about it than she would. He was after all just another one of her patients. And they came and went all the time. Very soon, she would forget all about him too.

She began to set up a tray of toast and jam but the way she would keep turning to look at him made him feel queasy.

"Is something the matter?" he asked.

Poppy pushed the tray onto his hand, beckoning him to eat. As Severus munched on a piece of toast, Poppy seated herself on the chair next to him with a worried look.

"Dumbledore went through your office and room this morning," she said.

"Did he?" Severus asked calmly. "Did he find anything?"

Poppy shook her head. 

"I thought as much. I should have searched the room before reporting to Dumbledore...the intruder must've still been in there when I went outside."

"At least you weren't caught up in whatever plan they had. Severus, you could have died."

"I'm well aware, Poppy. If they somehow managed to get into the school..."

"You don't think-you don't think it was...him, do you?" asked Poppy, horrified.

Severus sneered. "The Dark Lord? I think if he'd managed to infiltrate the school, he'd have gone for Dumbledore first. No, whoever did this was trying to get rid of me as quietly as possible. That's why they used poison instead of confronting me. Whoever it was, they saw me as a threat. But we'll find out soon enough," he said.

"You will? How?"

"Their mistake is failing on their first attempt. And it likely means they'll try again. But I'll be on my guard this time round. The next time, I'll be prepared."

Poppy gave a light groan. "Why does this only happen to you?"

"It's funny, isn't it? D'you think I should make it public that I'm likely to die from this Boggart Curse? At least then no one'll want to waste their time trying to kill me instead."

"That's not funny, Severus," Poppy said with a frown. "Abbott's going to help you recover from it. You're not going to die."

Severus decided not to answer her. He knew it would only invite an argument and for the time being, he wanted just a little peace.

"Severus?" Poppy said hesitantly. "There is something else."

"What?" he asked.

Poppy withdrew an envelope from her pocket and handed it to him. Severus raised his eyebrow as he glanced at the sender's address.

Molly Weasley.

"What's she want?" he asked. The last time he had seen her was at Black's memorial, and even then he had departed rather abruptly after his fight with Lupin.

Poppy shrugged. Without a second to waste, Severus ripped at the envelope and began to scan the contents of Molly Weasley's letter.

"What is it?" Poppy asked, feigning disinterest.

"Molly's hosting dinner at the Burrow. She's asking if I'd like to go."

"Oh, that's nice of her. Will you go?" she asked.

Severus turned to her. "Probably not."

Poppy got to her feet. "You should, you know. In times like these, you ought to cherish the people who care about you while you still can."

"Molly Weasley doesn't cherish me, I assure you."

"And how would you ever know that, Severus?"

And with that hanging in the air, Poppy left Severus to spend the rest of the morning at the Hospital Wing.

Chapter Text

Harry had woken to a rather ordinary day and only remembered after being showered by hugs and kisses from Mrs. Weasley that it was his birthday. Gloomily, he had thanked her and the others for their wishes and made his way outside. Ron and Hermione had been watching him with nothing but sympathy in their eyes for weeks and he could not bear it any longer. Even Fred and George, who had come and gone several times over the weeks, had been careful with their jokes whenever he was around. It was as he'd expected; his friends thought that even the brief mention of Sirius would break him. A part of him wished they would just crack this thing open already. He wanted to tell them he was still hurting but despite the pain, he was still very much himself. Harry felt he had mourned over Sirius' death long enough that it wasn't possible for him to cry over his godfather anymore.

But what he could not do was come to terms with the man's death. It was silly but even now, Harry hoped-no, he wished Sirius was here to celebrate his birthday with him. Just last year, he had envisioned coming home to Grimmauld Place and seeing Sirius' poor attempt at a birthday surprise. He pictured Sirius wearing a very silly hat atop his head and making so much noise that Mrs. Weasley would threaten to kick him out. Harry laughed at at the thought of it. There had been so many things horrifying things he had imagined would happen to himself but none of them had ever been losing Sirius from his life forever. He thought then of his dead mother and father, and how they had died without even knowing how he, Harry, had lived long enough to turn sixteen years old. Sirius would be with them now, he thought as he tried to comfort himself, he'd be up there with his dad beaming down at him.

"It wasn't supposed to be like this."

Harry dabbed away at the tears that had unknowingly trickled down his face as Ginny came to stand next to him. He gave her a forced smile.

"What wasn't?" he asked.

"This," she said, pointing back to the house. "Any of it. You should have been celebrating your birthday with him. With Snuff-Sirius. It wasn't fair that he was taken away like that."

Harry shrugged. "Life's unfair, I suppose. At least I've got you lot."

Ginny smiled, placing a hand around Harry's shoulder. Harry felt something shift inside of him at her sudden touch. He stared up at her to see there was no pity in her eyes, only warmth and kindness.

"You do, you know. Especially me, Harry. If you need help with...anything at all...I mean it. Even if it means breaking into the Ministry and punching you-know-who in the face."

Harry laughed. "Mrs. Weasley will probably have my head for it."

At this, Ginny laughed along. "Yeah, well, that's mum for you. Overbearing and overprotective, isn't she?"

"Still, better than not having one at all."

Ginny's mouth fell open in shock. The two of them stared at each other for a moment before breaking into fits of giggles.

"You shouldn't have said that!" Ginny exclaimed, hiding her face behind her hands.

"I know! I know! I don't know why I did!" Harry replied, his face reddening. 

"What are you lot giggling about?"

The two of them turned to see Ron standing by the doorway and Hermione behind him. They were watching Harry carefully, as though he might suddenly combust into flames in front of them.

"A bad joke," Ginny said, turning to leave. "Want to hear another one?"

"What?" Harry asked, amused. 

Ginny brushed past Ron and Hermione with a very mischevious look on her face.

"What?" Harry asked again with a laugh. Ginny cocked her eyebrows and then made a very throaty noise.

"Oh, 'Arry! 'Arry Potter! 'Ow 'ave you been!" she cried out in a voice that greatly resembled Fleur's before making kissing noises in the air. Without waiting to hear their response, she ducked behind Hermione and vanished from their view. Hermione laughed but Ron seemed quite bemused by it all.

"Blimey, you'd think she'd give it a rest," he muttered as he stepped out to join Harry.

"You have to admit, it is kind of funny," Hermione said, a smile plastered across her face.

Harry grinned. "I don't think Bill will like it too much, though. So, are we doing Quidditch tonight or what?"

Ron snorted. "As if mum would ever let us. Said something about making you a big dinner tonight. She's invited a few people from the Order too. Lupin said he's coming, Tonks too."

Harry nodded as he stared out at the open sky before him. "I expect they've got stuff to tell us, then? About what's been happening out there?"

"I suppose," said Ron.

"Harry," Hermione said in a small voice as she came up to them. She was much shorter than Harry and Ron, both of whom had grown several inches over the holidays. "You are alright, aren't you?"

"I am, Hermione," he replied. "I've had loads of time to think about what's happened with Sirius and...the prophecy. And I think with Dumbledore giving me private lessons this year...I'll be fine. I can't keep pretending I'm not frightened by it all because I am. But when the time comes...I think I'll be as ready as I can be to face him."

Hermione squeezed his arm gently. "You'll be careful, though, won't you? Dumbledore's getting old too, I don't know if you've noticed but the last time he was here, his hand was-"

"Dumbledore's old but he's still stronger than the rest of them, I reckon," Ron replied reassuringly. "If anyone can teach Harry to fight you-know-who and his army, it's Dumbledore."

The three of them seemed to be in agreement over it. They stood there for a brief moment before Mrs. Weasley came out to herd them back into the house, yelling about how there was a lot of work to be done before dinner that evening. Somewhat comforted by the people that he still had in his life, Harry trotted after Ron and Hermione with a smile still etched across his face.

The birthday celebration was not as cheerful as Mrs. Weasley had expected it to be, though Harry found there was nothing he could complain about. The Weasleys' sitting room had been cleared and a large table had been put in the center. Mrs. Weasley had baked Harry a lovely cake which, as usual, tasted far better than anything he had when he had been living with his Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon. The rest of the guests had started pouring in well after seven in the evening, and to Harry's delight, had brought him some gifts. Moody had given Harry a Muggle knife which had been enchanted to glow when danger was near, though he could see Mrs. Weasley aching to throw it out immediately. Tonks had gotten him a puzzle from Fred and George's joke shop which would rearrange itself anytime it got close to being completed while Remus had brought him a picture of his mum and dad back when they'd been at school. He had placed all of the gifts up in his room except for the picture of his parents which he'd kept pocketed and close to him. It felt, in a way, as though they were there.

To Mrs. Weasley's greater annoyance, everyone seemed to want to talk about the Death Eater attacks and the disappearances of witches and wizards. But the others didn't seem to care what exactly Mrs. Weasley thought of divulging such information to the rest. Remus Lupin, who looked gaunt and grim, his brown hair streaked liberally with gray and whose clothes were more ragged and patched than ever, cared even less for Mrs. Weasley's interruptions.

"There have been another couple of Dementor attacks," he announced as he was passed a large slice of birthday cake. "And they've found Igor Karkaroff's body in a shack up north. The Dark Mark had been set over it - well, frankly, I'm surprised he stayed alive for even a year after deserting the Death Eaters; Regulus, Sirius' brother, only managed a few days as far as I can remember."

"Yes, well," said Mrs. Weasley, frowning, "perhaps we should talk about something diff-"

"Did you hear about Florean Fortescue, Remus?" asked Bill who was being plied with wine by Fleur. "The man who ran-"

"-the ice-cream place in Diagon Alley?" Harry interrupted, with an unpleasant, hollow sensation in the pit of his stomach. "He used to give me free ice-creams. What's happened to him?"

"Dragged off, by the look of his place."

"Why?" asked Ron, while Mrs. Weasley pointedly glared at Bill.

"Who knows? He must've upset them somehow. He was a good man, Florean.

"Talking of Diagon Alley," said Mr. Weasley solemnly, "looks like Ollivander's gone too."

"Yeah, they got him sometime during the summer," Harry replied glumly.

"What? The wandmaker?" said Ginny, looking startled.

"Yes," replied Mr. Weasley.

"Why were you there, Potter?" Moody asked, his fake eye zooming about as he stared at him.

Harry looked up at them, guilt and hesitance gripping at him. He wondered if he should have told them about Snape and meeting Abbott.

"Er, I'd been there with Snape actually."

"Git," Bill said while Fleur shook her head disapprovingly. "What'd he want?"

"You didn't tell us any of this, Harry," Hermione said in a hurt tone.

Harry offered them a helpless look. "It was nothing, really. The, er, Ministry thought that I needed to get assessed by a professional Healer after the Boggart attack in the Department of Mysteries last year."

"Oh, dear," said Mrs. Weasley. "But you're fine now, aren't you?"

He nodded fervently. "Oh, yeah. Yeah. The Boggart didn't get its poison in me so I reckon I'll be alright."

Everyone at the table looked temporarily relieved by the information.

"So, Ollivander," Ginny continued as she cast her father a strange look. "How will everyone else get their wands?"

Before Mr. Weasley could answer, however, there were three rapid knocks on the door. All heads turned at once to the sound, each trying to figure out who else could be at the door.

"I didn't know there was anyone else coming," Ron said with a frown.

"Oh," Mrs. Weasley said jumping to her feet rather hurriedly. "That'll be Severus, I think."

Ron and Harry audibly gasped as they stared at each other in horror.

"Snape?" Ron mouthed. "What'd she invite him here for?"

"Harry," Hermione murmured, "why didn't you tell us about Snape-"

But Harry waved her off. He stared across the table to where Mrs. Weasley stood speaking to Snape. He caught a glimpse of the pale face and sour face and an instant dread filled the pit of his stomach. Was Snape here for him?

"So tell us, 'Arry," said Fleur suddenly, interrupting Harry from his thoughts. "What subjects are you planning to take this term?"

Molly opened the door to see Severus Snape plastered at her doorway, looking very much pale and sullen as he always did. Though she did note the slight hint of color in his cheeks which surely meant he was doing better than the last time she had seen him. He had always been an intimidating figure but tonight, something was different. She realized a minute later that it was his hair; It was rather poorly cut as though he had attempted to chop it off himself and hung in loose strands about his face. It did, however, take a few years off his face and gave the impression that he was much younger than he played himself out to be.

"Molly," he said with the slightest nod of his head.

"Severus, dear, do come in," she said, stepping aside to let him in. 

The man entered, his dark eyes sweeping across the house as though he were inspecting it. His gaze finally fell back upon Molly and she shivered lightly at the intensity of his stare.

"I do apologize for my lateness. I had no intention of being here tonight," he said softly.

"Oh," Molly said, quite used to his abrasiveness. "Well, it was nice of you to stop by anyway. Have you eaten, dear?"

Molly knew quite well that Severus hadn't eaten, he ever so rarely did. She also knew that he was uncomfortable eating in someone else's home, this she was quite certain too. Perhaps he had been brought up not to accept food from strangers, though she could not blame neither him nor his parents for making that choice. Nevertheless, she was inclined to have him eat something at least.

"You must be hungry, dear. Let me fix you a plate," she said.

His eyes trailed towards the table again and as she turned, she saw him staring at Harry. She knew he disliked the boy because of his father-Sirius had told her plenty of stories that had raised many questions about James Potter in his school years-and the fact that he quite openly despised most of her own children would have deterred most mothers from handing out an invitation for dinner; but the fact remained, Severus Snape had saved her children's lives plenty of times over the years and she wanted him to know just how much she truly appreciated it. There wasn't anyone else in the Order whom had welcomed him except for Dumbledore and Minerva, and Lupin shunning the man out during Sirius' memorial was tragedy enough as it was. The man needed to know he did have people on his side, that it was not just Dumbledore's trust he had earned serving his time as a spy.

"If you're uncomfortable, Severus, I'd be more than happy to set aside some food for you and I in the kitchen," said Molly kindly. 

She watched as a curious new change fell across the man's face. He blinked at her a few times before nodding quietly. "That won't be necessary, Molly. I won't have you spending any time away from your children, especially not when they are headed to school in a few days' time. Your children do not frighten me, nor does anyone else, for that matter."

Molly could hear a softness in his voice that she hadn't ever heard from him before. She beamed as she led him to where everyone else sat. The table fell silent at his approach. He raised his eyebrow but did not comment on the sudden silence. Molly threw everyone a rather vicious glare as she ushered him to the empty seat next to Alastor and Arthur.

"Severus," Arthur said. "It's been a while, hasn't it? How've you been?"

Severus ignored Arthur's question as he eyed the large piece of cake Molly handed him.

"Is it someone's birthday?" he asked. Molly hesitated, the plate glued onto her hand.

"Potter's," Alastor grumbled from next to him.

They all turned to stare at Harry who looked like a deer caught in headlights. Ron was turning his head from Harry to Severus until Molly shook her head at him angrily. 

"Happy Birthday, Potter," said Severus silkily.

"Er, yeah, thanks," Harry replied.

"Sixteen! Can you believe that? Sixteen years old, my, your mother would have been proud!" Molly exclaimed, nervous at the sudden tension that had formed in the air. 

Severus' lip curled as he finally took the plate from Molly and placed it in front of him. 

"Now, what were we talking about?" Molly asked, clapping her hands together. She feared the prolonged silence would turn the already-disinterested Severus away from her doorstep.

"We were just talking about where these three are headed after Hogwarts," Bill said with a grin. "Personally, I think Harry'd do well as a curse-breaker at Gringotts."

"Ooh, Gringotts will be more than 'appy to 'ave you there, 'Arry!" said Fleur. 

"He can decide what he wants to do himself," Molly said gruffly.

"I think Harry could play Quidditch professionally," Ginny replied. "He's Quidditch Captain this year."

Molly watched as Severus' sneer grew wider and wider. "Do have some cake, Severus," she pressed, hoping to get the conversation to shift to something or someone else.

"Anything but the bloody Ministry," grumbled Alastor under his breath. "Used to be great back in the day. Now all you see is a watered down version of a s-"

"Language, please, Alastor," Molly retorted as Ginny snickered rather loudly. "Severus, please, eat some cake."

"Have you heard anything about Florean's disappearance, Severus?" Remus finally spoke, his voice of forced calm and politeness.

"Why? Didn't your little werewolf friends let you in on that?" 

Bill leaned forward in his seat, Fleur hanging on next to him with wide eyes. "Is that who took him? The werewolves?"

"Oh, must we discuss such things at dinner?" Molly asked though it was evident no one was listening to her.

"Last I heard, Fortescue had an unsettled feud with Fenrir Greyback. But then again, no one would know better than Lupin. Tell me, how has it been running around with your brothers and sisters as of late? Must feel like a family reunion," Severus said with a grim smile.

Remus stood up and immediately Tonks reached out to grab him. But Remus placed her arms back on her lap and pointed to the kitchen calmly. "May I have a word? Severus?"

Severus stared up at Remus but followed him anyway. Molly went along with them, casting her husband a deeply worried look as she did. She had her wand with her, fully prepared to use it on the two men if they attacked each other. As she watched, Severus stood opposite Remus who leaned heavily against the counter.

"What is it?" Severus asked in a bored voice.

Remus took a deep breath before he spoke. "I wanted to...apologize."

"Whatever do you mean?" Severus asked, feigning ignorance.

"You know what I mean, Severus. What I said at Sirius' memorial...I didn't mean any of it, I was just...angry and upset and needed someone to blame."

"But you did mean it," Severus said angrily. "You meant all of it. You just feel guilty that you'd said it to my face."

Remus shook his head. "I don't need you to believe me. But I do need you to know that I appreciate everything that you've done for us. For Harry. For Dumbledore. For the Order."

There was a short silence as Molly exhaled, relieved Remus was making amends with the other man. 

"Are you done lying to yourself, Lupin?" Severus asked, his voice barely a whisper.

"I told you, Severus-"

"You think you're a good man, don't you? You think somehow you're above the rest of us. You, Lupin, have somehow got yourself convinced that your high morals excuse you from everything and that includes ruining people's lives!"

Remus gave a weary sigh, leaning further away from Severus. "And whose lives have I ruined exactly?"

"Mine," Severus said, baring his teeth. "You may have earned yourself a good name from everyone at that table but I know who you are. You're a coward, Lupin. You couldn’t admit your pathetic friends were wrong for what they did to me then and you certainly can’t admit for what you’re doing to Nymphadora now.”

"I don't know what you mean," Remus said, stiffening. Behind them, Molly had brought out her wand once more. Arthur called for her but she ignored him, knowing full well she could not leave this hostile situation for even a second.

Severus scoffed, eyes narrowing in the direction of a glum-looking Tonks. "Look at her. You've turned her inside out, Lupin. I expect you'll kill her before the war does."

Remus exhaled, his eyes closed. "I don't want to fight, Severus. I'm tired of it all. Aren't you?"

"Some of us aren't granted the privilege of standing down in a fight, Lupin. Molly, I do thank you for your hospice but I'll be on my way, now."

Molly let out a breath she did not realize she'd been holding and quickly rushed into the kitchen. Remus walked past her, blank-faced, returning to the table that was now bustling with noise once more in the living room. As Severus stood there in the kitchen, Molly began to place together some food before forcing it into his hand. "Eat," she pleaded. "Please. At least a bite before you leave."

He nodded. "I'd like to apologize, Molly. I'm sure you invited me here with good intentions and I'm afraid I may have fouled the evening's celebration."

"It's alright," she said even if she did not mean it. "It was a mistake calling you here, wasn't it? You needn't have come, you know. I wouldn't have been mad."

Severus tore a piece of cinnamon roll and popped it into his mouth, chewing it lightly. "Truth be told, I did not know why I did, either."

There was a silence as Severus swallowed his meal. "Why...why did you invite me? You must know...that no one else at that table welcomes me."

Molly shook her head. "I wanted to thank you. It seems everyone is so busy despising each other that there is not much gratitude that's left for one another. I thought...if not them...then perhaps I would show you my gratitude."

"You needn't thank me, Molly," Severus said. "I...I-"

Severus began to struggle to speak and Molly thought he was having trouble explaining his emotions at first. It was only when his face began to turn pink and he dropped the plate he was holding did she realize that something was wrong.

"I-can't-" he sputtered before crashing into her. Molly caught him, staggering as she held on to him and screamed for help. Chairs fell as footsteps rushed towards her.

"What is it, Molly?" Remus shouted.

"It-It's Severus-something's happened!" she cried back.

Molly felt someone lift Severus off of her. Ron bent over and quickly pulled her up to her feet as everyone crowded around Severus.

"Someone-get Dumbledore!" Arthur yelled.

"I'll go!" Tonks said, rushing outside of the house. There was a loud noise as she Disapparated back to Hogwarts. Molly quickly turned to the gawking children.

”Upstairs!” she screamed. “Now!”

Ron, who was just across from her, staggered back in alarm at her voice. Glowering darkly at Molly, he shoved Ginny forwards, pushing her in the direction of the stairs. Behind them, Harry and Hermione followed as slowly as they could.

In the kitchen meanwhile, Remus and Arthur had pinned Severus to the floor. They restrained him as he struggled against their grip, his eyes rolling to the back of his head. His body began to jerk uncontrollably and blood began to seep out of his nose and mouth. Molly's knees grew weak and she would have collapsed if Bill hadn't grabbed her in time.

"He-he's saying something!" Molly pointed out. Fleur, who had been silent the entire time, drew close to where Severus lay and placed his ears close to the man's mouth to hear what he was saying.

"Abbard," she repeated, confused. "What's an Abbard?"

"Abbott!"

All heads turned to look at Harry now at the foot of the staircase.

"Abbott," Harry said again. "It's the Healer he took me to see in the summer. She's in Diagon Alley!"

Arthur turned to Harry. "You know where she might be?" he asked.

Harry nodded quickly. "I've been there before. I can-I can take you."

Arthur had just opened his mouth to speak when Alastor came pummelling through, something tightly gripped in his left hand. 

"Move!" he ordered, pushing Remus and Arthur off of Severus.

The momentary release alerted Severus, who in fear or shock tried to get back up.But Alastor was strong and beefy; one hand pushed on Severus' chest, holding him down while the other grabbed his jaw tersely. Bill and Arthur shouted in alarm at Alastor's callousness but he did not stop. Severus' hollow, black eyes fluttered over to Molly's for a brief instant, and there was something desperate and inhumane in the way he looked at her. 

"Alastor," Molly called out, her lips quivering.

"Please-" Severus said, trying to force Alastor's hands off him. "Father-don't-please don't let him, Mother-"

Alastor forced Severus' mouth open and shoved something that looked like a rock down his throat. He then clamped his mouth closed and pressed down on his throat, ignoring the stream of tears that poured from Severus' eyes. When it was clear that he had swallowed it, Alastor released Severus and got to his feet.

"Mother," Severus pleaded as he looked across at the faces staring down at him in horror and shock. He sounded quite unhinged as he called for people that were not there. "Mother-please-I won't-"

This went on for an entire minute before Severus stopped shaking. He became very stiff and his eyes were wide and lifeless. The trail of blood dripping out his nose and onto the wooden floors was the only sign of movement from him. After several minutes, Molly found the urge to speak.

"Severus?"

Chapter Text

Harry, Ron and Hermione were slumped over by the bed in Fred and George's room. Ginny was plastered across the door, ears straining against the wooden surface to try and catch anything. After a few minutes, she gave a heavy sigh and turned to throw something at the other three on the bed. Harry eyed the object; it looked like a miniature version of Fred and George's infamous Extendable Ears. When he turned back to look at Ginny, he noticed she was leaning against the door and staring quite intensely at him.

"I told you, mum's made sure to charm all of Fred and George's stuff so they don't work," Ron chided, his arms crossed and a smug expression on his face.

"Not all of them," Ginny replied, pointing towards Hermione. As Harry glanced over to her, he saw that Mrs. Weasley's attempt at hiding the black eye she'd gotten from the twins' Boxing Telescope had faded away and was now looking uglier than ever. 

Ron snickered but Hermione's scathing glare very quickly cut short his mockery. The four of them turned their attention back to the door, where they continued to stare quietly. A few minutes passed before Hermione finally spoke in a resigned voice.

"You don't think he's dead, do you?"

Harry didn't know what to say. 

"Looked pretty dead to me," Ron whispered with a rather disturbed expression. "I mean...his eyes were wide open and he wasn't moving, was he?"

"He wasn't," Harry said. And this was true. Though Mrs. Weasley had chased them all away, the four of them had been watching intently by the banister. They had seen Moody push through the others, clearing a way so they could clearly see Snape as he was lying and jerking on the floor. Harry remembered vividly seeing the dark, black eyes staring up lifelessly at the people around him. It had been a frightening sight but Harry had wanted to know whether the man was dead or alive. But Mrs. Weasley, who had been a shaking, crying mess had seen Harry and the others and had screamed her head off at them. With nowhere else left to go, the four of them were cornered into hiding in Fred and George's room with no idea what was happening downstairs.

"He can't be," Hermione whispered, obviously horrified at the notion that their Potions Professor could be lying dead downstairs. "He just can't. I mean-not like that!"

"Well, why not? It's not like he's invincible...he's not Dumbledore," Ginny said before dropping to a low whisper. "Do you think someone at that table killed him?"

Ron scoffed loudly but upon noticing the expression in everyone else's eyes raised his eyebrows in disbelief. "You lot can't seriously think someone in the Order tried to off Snape?"

"No one liked him!" Ginny exclaimed, shooting Hermione an odd look.

"Don't be an idiot, Ginny," Ron replied. "There's no way, there just isn't."

"If we take us out, then that leaves Mr and Mrs. Weasley, Bill, Fleur, Moody, Tonks and Lupin at that table," Hermione said, beginning to count off the names. "Your dad sat next to him-"

"You're not actually doing this!" shouted Ron. "Hermione, d'you really think my dad-"

"But Snape hadn't eaten anything at the table, had he?" said Harry as he caught Hermione's expression. "He left because-"

"-because Lupin wanted to talk to him," Hermione replied tersely. "There was tension between them, didn't you think?"

"Lupin isn't-"

"And then there's Moody," Ginny added, approaching the others. "He shoved something in Snape's mouth. If it was poison-"

Ron shook his head, groaning. "He can't have poisoned the git twice, could he? Moody only came in after Snape was on the ground."

"Ron's right," Hermione said with a frown. "The last person that was with Snape was-"

"Mum."

At this, Ron stood up, pushing the sheets off him as he did. He climbed off the bed and stared around at Harry, Hermione and Ginny with widened eyes.

"Come off it," he said gruffly. "Mum's the one who invited him there in the first place! She wouldn't have called him there in front of everyone just to poison him!"

Hermione made a rather serious face. "She had the perfect alibi. She called him there so no one would suspect her. She must have known Snape and Lupin weren't on good terms and that Snape would want to left. And then, all she had to do was give him the poisoned food and-"

"-act as though she had no clue what was happening to him! It makes sense! Mum's a murderer!" Ginny cried out, falling onto the bed.

Harry maintained a serious expression until he didn't think he could hold it in anymore. Ron's face had turned red and he looked as though he were about to jinx them off their heads in a second. A smile cracked across Harry's face and then Ron was pointing at him.

"You-you're all joking!" he yelled, relief filling his face momentarily. "Oh, you lot are disgusting! The man could be dead!"

Ginny laughed. "Oh, come on! You hate the git!"

Ron sat back on the edge of the bed. "Still," he said, "I don't think it's anything to joke about. And you, Hermione-I expected better from you!"

Hermione rolled her eyes. "I know your mum's not a murderer, Ron, I'm not stupid. But I wasn't joking at all when I said someone at that table was behind whatever happened to Snape. I mean...he only reacted like that after he got here. We just have to find out if he'd eaten something."

"He didn't touch anything at the table," Ginny replied. "But I think I heard mum telling him she was going to pack him some food."

"But why didn't we get poisoned too, then?" Ron asked. "We ate everything on the table."

"Then maybe it wasn't on that table," Hermione said.

Harry decided it was time to finally speak up.

"He was ill," he said rather suddenly. They all turned to stare at him, confused.

"Remember that trip to Diagon Alley I took to see the Healer? Abbott?"

The other three nodded simultaneously.

"She examined me to see if that Boggart from the Department of Mysteries had stuck its poison in me," Harry explained carefully. "But there wasn't. She said I wasn't attacked quite as violently as she'd expected me to be."

"But Snape was," Hermione said thoughtfully.

Harry gave a nod. "She asked if he was having any hallucinations and he...well, he hesitated. It could've been that...I mean, there must've been a reason why he'd asked for Abbott."

"It's certainly plausible..." Hermione murmured, deep in thought.

Before Harry could say anything else, the door was thrown open and Mad-Eye Moody appeared at the entrance. Mrs. Weasley was behind him, pale-faced and sweaty-looking.

"Potter!" Moody called and Harry jumped to his feet. "You're coming with me! We're off to see Abbott!"

"Right," Harry replied timidly. "Snape-is he-?"

"He's fine now," said Moody. "Got that bezoar in him on time, didn't I? Bloody sod must've been poisoned."

"A bezoar?" Ron asked.

"That's right, sonny. Keep one with me at all times. Constant vigilance, as I always say, eh? Now, come on, Potter!"

Harry and the others looked to Mrs. Weasley who gave them a confirmatory nod. Harry, for a moment, thought he was relieved to hear that his least favorite Potions Master wasn't dead after all. He couldn't understand why he had been dreading and worrying for the man he disliked so much. It was certainly odd, though Harry remembered how he had even felt a little bad for Quirrell at one point in his life.

"And Dumbledore?" Harry asked again. "Have you told him?"

"Yes, yes, he's instructed me to get Snape to that Abbott woman. Said you could take me there. Hurry, now, Potter. The rest of you-stay in here and don't touch anything, do you hear me?"

"It's true, then? Someone poisoned him? With all of us here?" Ron asked.

"Afraid so, lad. Arthur and Lupin are checking the food to see if there's any poison in them. Tonks has gone to get us some more bezoars in case we've all been poisoned as well. Nasty stuff, but it'll sort us out if we need to."

"Is that possible, though?" asked Hermione, piping up. "Snape reacted in a matter of seconds. We've been eating all day long and none of us have reacted. Isn't it odd?"

"Smart girl you are, Granger. But leave the investigating to us. Just stay in here."

There was nothing else to be said. Harry reached for his jacket and swung it over himself. He turned back at his friends over by the bed and gave them an assuring nod before following Moody out the door.

Severus gave a loud groan as he stirred. His hands moved by instinct to touch the back of his head which was now very, very sore. He flinched as he felt a large bump on the back of his head. He tried to open his eyes but the brightness around him was making that rather hard to do.

"Relax now, Professor."

Severus cursed under his breath at the sound of the familiar voice. His memories were returning to him now, though everything was still fuzzy. He remembered distinctly standing in the Weasleys' kitchen, speaking to Molly before he'd felt his throat constrict and his legs give out on him.

"What happened?" he barked, eyes still clenched tightly from the light. When he realized it was impossible to open his eyes at all, he spoke again - this time sounding more panicked than frustrated. "I can't see!"

He felt something cool against his eyes and relaxed for a bit.

"It's alright, you're just having trouble adjusting. I'm going to take this napkin off now and you should be able to see, alright?"

"Yes," Severus rasped. He felt the fabric lift off him and his vision immediately returned. He gave a breathy sigh of relief, his eyes finally focusing on the spectacled woman standing over him.

"What happened?" he asked again.

Abbott rolled her eyes as she drew close to him, her arms stuffed into her pockets. 

"First of all, you're quite welcome," she said.

Severus glared at her. "Stop wasting my time, Abbott-"

"You were poisoned," said Abbott as she pulled a face. "Alastor Moody and Harry Potter brought you here. Said you were at the Weasley's house when you started choking and seizing out on the floor."

"No," Severus said, tilting his head upwards and shutting his eyes closed in embarrassment. 

"Oh, yes," Abbott replied grimly. "It's a long story but the highlight of it was Moody sticking a bezoar down your throat to save you."

Severus made a noise in the back of his throat. "Pulled out that trick again, did he?"

"Sorry?"

"In our-my sixth year, he'd made an appearance at the behest of Dumbledore...gave a big speech about the war out there to try and inspire students into joining the Aurors or scare the ones that were thinking about joining you-know-who."

"Did he?" Abbott asked in a disinterested tone. "And where does the bezoar come in?"

Severus shifted his elbows so he could sit upright. "Someone asked him what he'd do if someone got themselves poisoned while on a mission. Kicked up his feet and showed us a bezoar he'd stuck in his sock. Told us he'd never leave anywhere without one. Constant vigilance, was what he'd said."

Severus' tone was rather bitter but there was still a sort of respect for the man hidden beneath the layers of sarcasm. Abbott digested this information but did not seem to care as much as Severus would have expected her to. She pulled out a clipboard, dragged a chair and sat opposite the bed he lay on.

"That's a good story, Professor, but now we need to go into the facts. As brilliant as Moody's heroic act was, it doesn't change the fact that it was of little help to you earlier. In fact, that little entertainment of a show was not needed at all."

"Meaning what exactly?" Severus asked, his brows furrowed.

"I did a diagnostic check on you. You're aware that you were poisoned?"

He nodded. "I ate something at the Weasleys' house."

Abbott shook her head. "They brought me a sample of every food that was there, Professor. It wasn't that."

"What are you saying, Abbott?"

Abbott took a deep breath. "When they brought you here, I examined you and found traces of belladonna in your system. But the samples from the Weasleys' were clear of it. That, and the fact that no one else there had been affected by it means that you were likely poisoned earlier-where were you before you went to see the Weasleys?"

Severus swallowed, feeling suddenly weakened. "Hogwarts," he said. "Just a week before, someone had leaked belladonna gas into my room but I'd managed to get out in time. Poppy even examined me - you don't think the traces are from then, do you?"

"I don't think so," she said with a firm shake of her head. "Belladonna gas dissipates within hours. This was recent, Severus. Someone's tried poison you again, and they very well would have succeeded had you been on your own tonight."

There was a gloomy silence in the air as Severus processed this information. This was the second time someone had tried to kill him with the same poison. But he had been so careful, he thought. Ever since the first incident with the poison, he had added new wards and spells to his room and he had eaten food that came directly from the kitchens. He hadn't joined any of the other staff for regular meals for the past week and still someone had managed to sneak in the poison. 

Severus turned his attention back to Abbott. "You said the bezoar was unnecessary?"

Abbott nodded again. "The leftover Boggart poison in you counter-acted with the Belladonna. I think you ingested the poison but the Boggart juice in your system had weakened it somehow. And when you finally ate something at the Weasley's, it must have triggered the Belladonna poison in your body. What did you have?"

"Cinnamon roll," he said, tight-lipped. "So what does this mean? This Boggart poison saved my life?"

She gave a grim smile. "That seizure you had was the Boggart poison reacting with the Belladonna. It's much stronger-the only reason you're not dead yet is because it's still in its early stages. Severus, you've not been having any seizures, have you?"

Severus evaded her gaze. "Not often, no."

Abbott gasped lightly. "But you've been having them? Why didn't you tell me?"

"They were recent!" he exclaimed. "And you were supposed to come examine me in a week's time-I didn't think someone would try to murder me in-between that, did I?"

"You're unbelievable, you know that? What part of alert-me-if-you-experience-anything-out-of-the-norm do you not understand?"

Severus got to his feet with much difficulty, struggling to stand without falling on his face in front of Abbott. "I'm a busy man, Abbott. I don't have time for this. Am I free to leave or not?"

The woman rolled her eyes, standing up. "Leave, then. I'm speeding up our next appointment, though. I'll be there at Hogwarts the night the students return."

He did not think to argue, he was much too exhausted. "Fine. My office, then. Are we going to go through more memories of Black-because, frankly, I don't see why. I've stopped hallucinating him for a while now."

"That isn't my problem, now, is it, Professor? I'll see you soon," Abbott replied, pointing in the direction of her office room.

Severus grumbled under his breath as he made his way across and through the cupboard that hid this secret room. As soon as he stepped into her cluttered office, he saw Potter and Moody sitting by Abbott's desk. He cursed as they spotted him.

"Snape!" Moody called, his fake eyes staring him up and down. "Still alive, then, are you?"

Severus chose to ignore his comment. "You, Potter, what are you doing here?"

Potter looked rather alarmed and quickly glanced at Moody for his defense.

"Potter's the only one who knew where Abbott was. If I didn't know any better, Snape, I'd say this boy saved your life."

Severus flushed, snarling viciously at Moody. "Merely bringing me here isn't something to praise him for!"

"What did Abbott say, then?" Moody asked, pretending not to have heard him.

"I don't have to tell you anything about that. It's none of your business, thank you very much."

Moody snorted rudely in his face. "I'll have to give my report to Dumbledore so it is very much my business, thank you very much."

Severus raised a finger at Moody. "I'll do that myself. You take Potter back. He's caused enough trouble as it is."

He turned to Potter who looked as though he was ready to brawl with him in front of Moody. Severus gave him a thin smile before heading towards the door. 

"Probably a mistake to have given him that bezoar, eh, Potter?" Severus heard Moody say as he stepped outside.

But Severus couldn't care less about Moody's regrets. Abbott had made it clear that it was the Boggart poison inside him that had stopped the other poison from killing him. Fate was funny like that, he thought, as he swept past the forlorn looking stores in Diagon Alley. Here he was, already dying, and yet someone else was out there trying to get ahead of the poison and kill him first.  At the present moment, all he knew was the perpetrator had tried to murder him both times in the castle and that meant only one thing. An enemy was living within the same walls as him, and he would stop at nothing until he found out who it was.

Chapter Text

Eating had never been a particular favorite activity for Severus, even as a child. It was not so much his dislike for food but rather the quantity of which had been available to him at the time of his growing up. His parents were extremely poor and being able to eat even a loaf of bread had been seen as a blessing for his dear old mother. His father worked, of course, but there was only so much an alcoholic miner could bring home most of the times. Sometimes Mrs. Adler, the old lady who lived close to the river, would invite him in for tea and cakes but his stomach had been so used to cold, hard food that no amount of sweet desserts could turn his appetite around. It was, sadly, an unfortunate habit that had grown into him well into adulthood. And now with him having been poisoned twice, Severus had resorted to ingesting various herbs and potions he'd made himself in his room. Even Winky who had been close to tears upon being banned from his quarters had tried to sneak him a pie from the kitchens had been turned away. He had to careful; he couldn't trust anyone anymore.

On his left, Dumbledore kept a steady gaze on him. The man hadn't tried to dissuade Severus from his new diet; Severus gathered that Dumbledore too had assessed the risks of consuming anything made from anyone else's hands since the incident at the Weasleys' and has since allowed Severus to be in starvation until the perpetrator was found. Severus didn't mind too badly but having said that, seeing the rest of the staff and student body chomp away at the feast gave him the urge to vomit. This was especially the case for Horace Slughorn, whom one would have judged to have been starved off food all his life if they had seen him now. There was a large turkey drumstick in one hand while the other was scooping away at the mince pies. As he ate, he nudged Minerva next to him so she would pass him the goblet of pumpkin juice.

"Enjoying the feast, Horace?" Dumbledore asked, leaning forward to meet Slughorn with twinkling eyes.

Slughorn tried to speak with his mouth full of food and ended up spraying bits of it all over. Severus let out a disgusted noise but made no comment upon Dumbledore's disapproving glance.

"These house-elves, Dumbledore-you must have gotten new ones! The old ones couldn't ever cook as good as this!" Slughorn exclaimed before downing his entire drink in one gulp.

"On the contrary," Minerva jutted in, "we have yet to replace any of our elves."

Slughorn let out a laugh, his moustache dripping wet from the juice. He reached to pour himself a new glass and raised it in the air. "To the damned good house-elves then! May they live on to feed us!"

He gave another forced laugh before leaning in towards Severus who had grown to despise the man just a little more every passing second.

"Severus, you haven't touched your food!" he exclaimed, sloshing his drink around.

"I'm not hungry," Severus replied.

"Oh?" Slughorn asked, his mouth forming a rather large O' shape as he did. "I'm not surprised, really."

To Severus' annoyance, Slughorn then turned back to Minerva. "Why, I remember back in the day-I'd had to call him up to my office and have a chat about why he'd been skipping meals. Madam Pomfrey would be at my heels about old Severus here! Wouldn't leave me alone until I'd spoken to him."

This had somehow caught Minerva's ears and she finally turned to address Slughorn with interest at last in what he had to say.

"And when I-hic-when I finally got him cornered-hic-" Slughorn spoke through hiccups, "he had a terrible breakdown-hic! Something about-hic-"

Severus quickly got to his feet, his lips thin and nose flaring. Slughorn turned to stare up at him, very much drunken and alarmed by the sudden movement.

"That has nothing to do with anything!" Severus hissed, feeling the rest of the table's eyes on him. 

Not wanting to cause a scene, his eyes swept across the tables before him. In the corner, he saw Draco Malfoy staring ahead out the window as Pansy Parkinson continued to talk over his thoughts. He gave another quick look at the Gryffindor table and noticed that Potter still hadn't made an appearance. A grim smile played across his lips now, his hate for Slughorn vanishing in an instant. His head jerked towards Dumbledore.

"I'm going out for a walk," he said.

Dumbledore's eyes trailed over to where Severus' had been a minute ago and he nodded with a soft sigh. 

Without another word, Severus stalked off towards the exit and out onto the castle grounds. He brought out his wand to illuminate the path ahead as he thought of all the things he'd say to Potter when he found him playing truant outside here. It amazed him to no end that the boy would continuously go above the rules and strut around the castle as though it belonged to him. Even after everything that had happened at the Ministry, and even after Black's death, Potter still thought he could roam around anywhere freely. 

Not for long, Severus thought savagely. If he found Potter out here, he'd have his way with him. Potter probably thought he was untouchable now after learning all there was to know about Severus. It had been extremely bitter to acknowledge that Potter had saved his life at the Department of Mysteries and again when he had brought him to Abbott after being poisoned at the Weasleys'. No doubt he was just like his father; he'd parade off this news to his friends and act as though he should be deemed a great saint for saving Severus time and again. Severus spat angrily at the ground. If Potter wanted to play that game, so could Severus. He had saved the boy more times than he could count and had never expected gratitude for it. The boy hadn't even thanked him once, either.

Severus stopped in his tracks as he saw a dark figure moving across the ground. He stuck out his lit wand and peered through the darkness.

"Who goes there?" he barked.

"Woah, there, Professor! It's only me," said Hagrid as he stepped up, carrying a large lantern that swung back and forth in his large hand.

"Hagrid," Severus said, lowering his wand. "Bit late for the feast, aren't you?"

"Aye, Fang's been getting on my nerves. Damned dog keeps wantin' to run into the Dark Forest on his own," he said, raising his free arm to show the vicious bites left behind by Hagrid's rather stupid dog.

"Fang did that?" Severus asked in disbelief.

Hagrid shrugged. "Yer welcome to try and feed yer hand to him if you don't believe me, Professor."

Severus found it rather difficult to believe him anyway. Before he could respond, however, they were both overwhelmed by a sudden bright, white light.

As his eyes adjusted to the brightness, he realized he was staring at a wolf-like creature that hovered above the air. It was a Patronus.

"Harry and I are at the gate. Could you come get him, please?"

Nymphadora's voice echoed around them and it took Severus a minute to register the connection between her voice and the animal. Tonks' Patronus was a wolf. And not just any wolf, by the looks of it. A werewolf. Her Patronus had changed to mimic the animal of the man she supposedly....loved. Severus' face twisted into an ugly snarl as the realization hit him. This poor girl had somehow deluded herself into thinking that she could somehow have a future with Lupin. Again, a sickly feeling overcame him and he had to do all he could not to scream out in anger and frustration.

"At the gate?" Hagrid asked as the silvery animal faded away in thin air. "Why didn't he get in with the rest of the group?"

"Because it's Potter," Severus said rather bitterly. "He'll want to show everyone that what they're calling him on the news is true, I expect. Chosen One, isn't he?"

Hagrid looked at Severus with a concerned look. "No, no, Harry's not like that, Professor. I'm sure something's up. I suppose I'll go get him, then."

"No, wait," Severus replied brashly. "I'll go, Hagrid. I'm sure you need to make an appearance at the staff table. You don't want the first years to get the wrong impression of you."

"I don't?" asked Hagrid and Severus shook his head seriously. And then, "I suppose I don't. You're sure you're alright to get him? It's just...you two don't really get along an' all. Don't want no trouble, is all."

"Nonsense," replied Severus as he snatched the lantern from Hagrid's hand. "We'll be there in no time, Hagrid."

Severus gave the man a reassuring nod and was quite aware that the man did not take his eyes off him until he had gotten further away from his view. Hagrid was a decent bloke, and very loyal-Severus had to give him that, but he also could not be strict with the children. He suspected that the very few that had signed up for Hagrid's classes this term only did it because they thought they could weasel out of the class with an Exceeds Expectations at least. As his mind drifted towards classes, he remembered that he was no longer to teach Potions at the school. After tonight, he would be the Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor. That was, of course, until the end of the year as had been discussed. He felt a sudden excitement at the prospect of finally being able to teach something he felt he was truly good enough at. Severus was an excellent Potionsmaker but it was difficult to train adults let alone children to perfect the art of potionsmaking. But the Dark Arts, he was sure he could do. He had taught it before to the other Death Eaters when he had first joined. And it was his teaching that had led them to commit such cruel, vicious acts in the past and present. 

But this year would be different, he was sure of it. He had the chance to teach the students to defend themselves at last, to equip them with whatever they needed to prepare for the war that was sure to come in a year or two. There would be deaths, that was guaranteed, but he would try to at least give them enough of a chance to fight back and hurt the other side. The Death Eaters he knew so much were capable of magic but they were also often overconfident and that was what had led to most of their defeats. 

As Severus neared the gate, he could see the two shadowy figures. He sneered as he imagined Potter's expression upon realizing it was Severus whom had come to fetch him. Fortunately, Severus had the satisfaction of witnessing this as the lantern light finally shone against Potter's dumbstruck face. There was blood all over his face and Severus bit in the urge to ask Potter what had happened. Whatever it was that had transpired was of no concern to him. In fact, if he was attacked, then it would have served Potter right for straying away from the rest of the students. He could see the boy's face clearly now, could see every inch of hatred and loathing etched across his expression at the sight of Severus. He allowed himself to glimpse at the equally angry green eyes, feeling a sharp stab that told him to look away immediately.

"Well, well, well," said Severus with a sneer, taking his wand out to tap the padlock. 

The chains snaked around the padlock began to untangle themselves, falling away neatly to the sides so that the gate could finally open. As it did with a loud creak, Severus took the opportunity to take another dig at the boy.

"Nice of you to turn up, Potter, although you have evidently decided that the wearing of school robes would detract from your appearance."

At this, Potter finally spoke. "I couldn't change, I didn't have my-"

But Severus had noticed Nymphadora's expression and could not let this moment go to waste. "There is no need to wait, Nymphadora, Potter is quite - ah - safe in my hands."

"I meant Hagrid to get the message," said Tonks, frowning.

“Hagrid was late for the start-of-term feast, just like Potter here, so I took it instead. And incidentally,” said Severus, standing back to allow Potter to pass him, “I was interested to see your new Patronus.”

He closed the gates in her face with a loud clang and tapped the chains with his wand again, so that they slithered, clinking, back into place. Oh, but he wasn't done with her yet. She had allowed others to see her weakness, to see how far she had been dragged away from the person that she was. Remus Lupin had taken this young, brilliant witch and had sucked the soul out of her completely. He had had her convinced that she was head over heels for him. For the werewolf. Anger, jealous and bitterness reared their heads again and Severus could not stop himself.

"I think you were better off with the old one," he said, the malice in his voice unmistakable. "The new one looks weak."

As hard as he tried to savor the look on Nymphadora's face, all he felt was a great sadness and guilt at what she'd become. Though he'd never admit it, he had admired the girl in her school days. She was intelligent and unafraid to speak her mind no matter how hurtful it may have been. She was also one of the more creative minds Severus had ever seen. Yet another person whose life and ambitions and character was destroyed for the poison that was love, he thought. He didn't care what Dumbledore thought it was. Love was a poison, the only disease that could hurt a person over and over and over. Love was the reason why Nymphadora was slowly turning into him. As time passed, she too would turn cruel and bitter and angry like him. And once she realizes that Lupin cannot love her the way she loves him, that would be the end of her. As Severus walked away from Nymphadora, he cursed her first for being so weak and then cursed love altogether for what it was and what it had done to her.

Chapter Text

"Congratulations, Professor!"

Abbott did a funny little spin before falling onto her chair opposite Severus' own seat. He only just arrived to his office and had seen the damned woman poking about the jars lined neatly on his shelves. It had taken ages for him to re-store them again after last year so merely seeing anyone - even Dumbledore, might he add- fooling around with them had him on edge. But when he had coughed to alert Abbott, she hadn't even the sense to apologize for touching what certainly did not belong to her.

"Are you alright?" she asked, fixing her falling glasses onto her face. "You look a bit...unwell. I'd have thought earning yourself a promotion would've cheered you somewhat."

Severus gave a snort as he moved towards her. "I'd hardly call that a promotion."

At that, Abbott frowned in confusion. "My apologies. I'd simply assumed the Dark Arts would've been what you'd have wanted to teach all along."

"And what gave you that impression?" he asked, flexing his left arm subconsciously.

Without fail and as he had expected, Abbott's eyes glanced towards his left arm. The movement seemed not to be on purpose or with intent to hurt him, but rather out of control. She seemed to realize that a moment later and quickly looked away. In the end, she made do with a shrug. "You seem like the type to want to teach a subject that's got you thinking on your feet. You've got the experience for it, after all."

"If it were up to me at all, Miss Abbott, I even wouldn't be here teaching a bunch of dunderheads anything at all," he replied.

A frown fell across Abbott's eyes. "Funny," she said as she scrunched her nose. "A teacher who doesn't like to teach."

It was Severus' turn to shrug. "Sometimes you must be where are you are needed most."

"And that is to what?"

"Protect the children."

Abbott coughed loudly. "Terrorize them, more by the looks of it."

Severus did not respond but began to tap his fingers impatiently across his elbow as he watched her. "And how will you terrorize me tonight, Miss Abbott? Are you going to make me relive the horrors of my schoolboy years again?" he said with a very sarcastic tone.

"Come," Abbott beckoned. "Sit."

Severus sat. 

Abbott got her wand out from inside of her robes and tapped the table thrice. As they sat there, Dumbledore's pensive began to lift itself off of the shelf behind Abbott and hovered over the table between them.

"I realized I've been going at this the wrong way," the woman said as she leaned back on her chair sheepishly. "You're not like any of the other patients I've treated. You're...well, you're you."

Severus looked affronted by her comment. "I beg your pardon?"

"And I can't exactly blame you for that, either. You are who you are, Professor. Given your line of work, if you weren't, I doubt you'd have lasted doing what you do for all this time."

"Miss Abbott," Severus said softly, "if you would care to explain-"

Abbott held up a hand. "What I mean is my trying to supposedly cure you from this Boggart poison isn't going to work if we don't confront the obvious obstacle in our way."

"And that is-?" Severus asked, his brow arched.

"Trust. Or the lack of it. You don't trust me and that isn't your fault. You've been trained not to trust anyone except perhaps yourself. And without that trust, we won't get very far at all."

"If I didn't trust you, Abbott, I wouldn't be sitting here entertaining you in my office when I've got about a hundred other things to do."

"You continuously hide things from me, you pretend as though you're perfectly alright when you're really not-tell me, Severus, if you were honest about trusting me, why didn't you tell me you were having those seizures? Why didn't you come to me immediately once you started seeing Sirius Black? Was it not because you distrusted in my abilities to help you?"

Severus was at a loss for words. For what else could he say to this woman? She was right, he didn't trust her. He didn't trust anyone, not even himself. The only person who came even remotely close to being trusted was Dumbledore and even he had been a let down these past few years. 

"Like I've said, neither do I blame you nor hate you for it. It's in your nature but I believe that I can give you enough to gain a little trust for you to see that I am genuine in wanting to help you, Professor," she said, her voice full of gentleness and kindness that he was not accustomed to.

"And how will you do that?" he asked.

She did not answer but instead handed to him a small vial that was glistening with a string of memories contained within it.

"What is this?" he asked.

"Trust. I'm giving it to you, Severus. In here are some of my most precious memories that you could use against me. In here is the reason why I am doing everything I can in my life to save yours."

Severus was rather dumbfounded by Abbott's sudden gesture. He stared down at the vial that was pressed against his palm tightly. There was no reason for her to give him this if she did not truly mean what she had said. 

"What is in here?"

She nodded towards the pensive hanging in the air between them. "Go on," she said with a worried smile.

Severus carefully uncorked the vial and poured the contents into the glimmering pool in the pensive. He watched as different colors began to wash over the surface and faces began to show up across it. He looked up at Abbott, unsure. She nodded encouragingly.

"Am I to go through these memories of yours on my own?" he asked, hesitating.

Abbott smiled grimly. "Nothing in this life or the next, not even the Unforgivable Curses, could make go through those memories again."

More curious than worried over what that meant, Severus plunged his head into the pensive and felt his body fall into the vivid colors and shapes.

When he stood up, he was standing in a large room that resembled Abbott's office back in Diagon Alley. He heard a noise and quickly turned to see Abbott walking towards him with a clipboard under her arm.

"Good morning," said Abbott cheerily. Severus looked ahead to see a blonde-haired man raising his arm from afar to greet her.

"Mrs. Abbott," he yelled. "How are we today?"

"I told you, Mr. Griddle, it's Miss Abbott," she replied feigning a cross look.

"I'll call you Miss Abbott if you call me Peter," the man said.

"Or," said Abbott, "You call me Julia and I call you Peter."

The man, Peter, grinned widely as he pretended to tip an invisible hat. "Julia."

"Peter," replied Abbott with a mocking bow.

Severus held a rather sharp comment in the back of his throat as Abbott and the other man began to laugh. It was clear that Abbott had some sort of relationship with this Peter Griddle, judging by the way they were looking at each other. Before he could so much as lift his head, the colors around him began to disintegrate until soon enough he was back where he had started. The room around him looked exactly as it had been moments before with the sole exception of a gigantic glass panel set before him. The panel extended from the ground below all the way up to the ceiling, as though it was some sort of entrapment. No sooner than he'd thought it did something fling itself at him with such force that had it not been for the glass, would have throttled him in an instant.

He jumped back in alarm, staring ahead at whatever it was that was once again hurtling itself against the panel. There was no one way to describe what it was because it looked like a combination of a great many things. The first time he locked eyes with the creature, he'd seen the head of a giant bird and when he'd blinked it was a wolf with sharp teeth and hairy spider-like legs. 

"Terrifying isn't it?" came a man's voice.

"Yes," Severus whispered, so focused by the trapped Boggart that he hadn't realized he was only watching from a memory.

"I think it's quite...beautiful."

Severus turned around to see Abbott standing there with the man, Peter, again. Abbott, like Severus, was mesmerized by the Boggart and its movements in its entrapment. Peter, no doubt the caretaker Abbott had mentioned before, did not share a similar interest in it, however. He had his wand clenched tightly by his side as he gazed at it as thought it were a monster. 

"Beautiful?" said Peter. "You're looking at the thing that's killed about ten people. Maybe even more."

Abbott turned to glance at Peter. "Beauty isn't solely reserved for the good, you know."

Peter appeared to be a little stricken by her comment, as did Severus. He had not expected to hear it, did not know why a strange, dull ache resonated across his chest when she'd said it. The colors began to shift and Severus was enveloped in a thick dark cloud before he was returned to solid ground. This time, however, he was in a more familiar territory. Fear gripped at him as he saw the familiar trees surrounding him, and he'd forgotten that he was in someone else's memory. Severus brought out his wand and only relaxed when he heard Abbott's squeal of delight.

"This is brilliant!" Abbott exclaimed as she walked through where Severus stood, brushing past him as though he were a ghost. "I've got to admit, I'm pretty impressed."

Across from her, Peter was standing with his arms crossed and a grin painted across his face. "Top of the class for Transfigurations and Herbology, I was."

"I believe you," Abbott replied seriously, tapping the bark of the tree as though she imagined it would crumble apart at her touch. "How'd you do in Care of Magical Creatures?"

Severus gave an inward snort but nevertheless, he had to admit the caretaker had done well in transforming the somber-looking room to a majestic forest. All around them, they could hear chirps of birds and crickets as though they were really there. Severus was fully convinced that the caretaker must've brought in actual insects to make this place habitable for the Boggart.

Peter laughed. "Dreadful," he said sarcastically. 

Abbott approached him now, twiddling with a small flower she'd plucked from the bushes nearby. "Oh dear, a magical creatures caretaker who's not even good in Care of Magical Creatures?"

"Will you report me?" Peter asked, laughing as Abbott threw her arms around his shoulder.

"What happens if I do?" she challenged.

"They'll want to replace me, I expect," replied the caretaker seriously. "But I don't think there's anyone who could do this better than I do. Unless you count Kettleburn-is he still teaching?"

At that, Abbott laughed again. "Reckon he's had enough-last I heard, he lost another leg."

"Mm, I suppose that means I have no choice but to stick around," he said as he leaned towards her.

Severus turned away from them as if by instinct only to realize that Abbott had pushed the caretaker away.

"Do you mean it, Griddle?" she asked a moment later. "What you said about sticking around? Because if you say you are and I introduce you to Hannah only for you to leave-"

Abbott paused mid-track as the caretaker pulled her back towards him. "Are you worried about me leaving Hannah? Or leaving you?"

"Hannah," she said firmly. And then, "...and me. Maybe both of us. Does it matter?"

Peter laughed as he kissed her forehead softly. "I'm not leaving either one of you."

"Really?" Abbott asked, unsure.

"Really," he replied. "Except if Kettleburn waltzes in here to replace me."

As they laughed, the memory of the two began to fade away and a cold feeling began to set in Severus' chest. Abbott had given him all of these memories because she'd wanted him to know why she was hell-bent on saving him from the Cursed Boggart. He also knew what had become of the caretaker; he had always had a feeling that there had been something about him that she'd hidden away when she had first told Severus about him. He had guessed the caretaker had been more important to her than the other victims of the Boggart, but seeing all of this now was starting to weigh on his soul. The caretaker, Peter, had been an actual person that had loved and cared for someone. Of course, there was no way to know if it was genuine but from the way he stared at Abbott, Severus was only too familiar of the longing in the man's eyes. It was love, or maybe it wasn't, but it certainly had been something.

The next memory was the one Severus had been dreading. He stood outside the door of the Department of Mysteries where he and Potter had emerged from only a few months ago, watching as Ministry employees began to scream for help. There was a large crowd blocking the door but Severus recognized the trembling boots on the floor and looked away. A moment later, Abbott rushed past him, screaming that everyone move. Severus stepped closer to watch as she wrenched Peter away from the wizard that was trying to revive him.

"Peter! Peter-here, look, don't worry-" she was saying as she pulled out a small bottle from her pocket. But Peter had neither seen nor heard her for his eyes were shut tight and his face clawed horribly. Despite that, Abbott did not look away. In one hand, she clutched his bleeding face, tipping his jaw upwards so as to slip the liquid in-between his lips gently. Severus bent down so that he could see the two of them more clearly. Abbott was pale and her eyes were red from holding back tears as she shook the unconscious Peter lightly.

"Abbott," Severus started but he was quite abruptly pulled away from the memory and cast into the sunlit room of St. Mungo's.

The caretaker was awake and staring through the window, watching a bird shake raindrops from its feathers. His face had been quite badly mauled that they had bandaged it so only his eyes and part of his lips were visible. Even from where he stood, Severus could quite clearly see the frustration in the man's gaze. 

"Are you going to come in or are you just going to stand there all day and stare?" 

Severus turned to see a surprised-looking Abbott standing by the doorway. She entered, with steps as hesitant as her expression.

"How are you?" she asked in a small voice.

"I wish you'd stop asking me that, Jules," said Peter, turning to look at her at last.

"I'm sorry. I've spoken to the Healers. They think another week-"

"-another week? Can't you tell them I'm fine? That you cured me? I mean, you're Head Healer-"

"It's not as simple as that, Peter!" Abbott hissed. "They want to make sure you're properly healed-"

"-I'll heal when I'm back at work! Look at me, Jules-I'm strapped to the bed and can't so much as move without having one of those Healers breathing down my neck! It's-it's infuriating, is what it is."

Abbott came over to settle on the bed next to him, patting his knees as she placed her head against his shoulder. "I know, love," she said kindly. "I'm doing all I can to convince them-they've promised me it'll all be done in a week so I just...I just need you to hang in there for a bit, okay?"

Peter tilted his head so it was against Abbott's. "And if it's not? If they say it might take another week more?"

Abbott smiled cheekily. "Then I'll get you out of here myself."

"That's my girl," he said, laughing at last. "I never got to say thank you, you know."

Abbott lifted her head to look up at him. "For what?"

The caretaker scoffed. "For saving my life. If you hadn't found that cure-I wouldn't even be here."

"I just got lucky," she replied with a shrug.

"I'm the one who got lucky. Where's Hannah?" he asked.

"I've sent her back to Hogwarts. I don't think it's such a good idea leaving her behind on her own. With all these attacks going on..."

"You're back to working, are you?" Peter asked, his gaze slowly shifting towards the door where Severus was.

Abbott nodded, following his gaze curiously. "Finding the cure was one thing...we still don't know how long it lasts or anything else about it for that matter. Once you're out, we'll carry out a couple of tests."

"More tests?" he asked with a light scoff.

"Get used to it, Griddle," Abbott said teasingly.

But the caretaker seemed not to have heard. His eyes were narrowed as he stared at Severus.

"Peter, darling, what's wrong?" Abbott asked, noticing his peculiar behavior.

Peter turned back to her, shaking his head. "Nothing. Just thought I saw...someone."

"Who?" she asked as she began to rummage through her bag. 

The caretaker glanced back at the door once more and Severus realized the man's hallucinations had already started.

When the memory was again replaced with another, Abbott and the caretaker were standing in her office space. They had evidently been arguing judging by the state of the room and the two who were now panting with shallow breaths. Both of them were about a meter apart with reddened faces as they glared at each other.

"I can't keep doing this with you, Peter," Abbott was saying.

"Yeah? Well, neither can I! I just want my life to go back to how it was!" Peter yelled.

"Don't you think I want that too? If you just listen-and just-just talk to me about whatever's happening-"

Peter screamed just then and Severus practically leapt to Abbott's defense, forgetting he couldn't do anything to help the woman.

"YOU WON'T UNDERSTAND-YOU'LL THINK I'VE GONE MAD!"

"Peter-please-please, just-"

The caretaker swung his wand and a few books behind Abbott's shelves flew out of their places and landed on the floor.

"I can help-please, Peter-you have to stop all of this-"

But Abbott only continued to plead as the caretaker ignored her, taking his anger out on everything around them in the office. More books were flung around, photo frames were thrown against the walls with glass shattering everywhere. He simply refused to stop until Abbott could take no more. She stood there, in the middle of her office, and began to cry. The caretaker only realized when he had run out of objects to smash or fling and upon seeing her shattered expression, sunk to his knees and broke into short sobs.

Severus watched them silently; they were starkly different from the previous memories he had seen of them. The joy he had seen glittering in their eyes had faded away and now there was something hollow and broken in the air between them. 

"Peter, darling," Abbott whispered, her voice shaky. She dared not approach him yet, she was still fearful of him. "Peter?"

But Peter did not answer her. He was stooped over the floor with his hands clutching his hair tightly as he still cried.

"Talk to me," said Abbott as she moved to sit on the floor with him. "Just tell me what's going on...I might be able to...help..."

"Something's wrong," Peter replied without looking at her. "Something's gone terribly wrong, Jules."

It seemed she had finally had a breakthrough. Abbott moved to where he was and grabbed his hands gently, removing them so she could see him. She nodded, sniffling hard.

"Yes," she said through tears. "Yes, just tell me. Tell me what's hurting you. Tell me where."

Peter cried out, though in desperation or frustration Severus could not tell. In the end, he raised his index finger and nudged it hard against his temple.

"Okay, okay," said Abbott between breaths. "Can you tell me exactly what hurts?"

"Everything," said the caretaker. "I-I'm seeing-I see-seeing-see-"

"What do you see, love?"

He fell against her lap, clutching and pulling at her skirt.

"Peter," Abbott said softly.

"You. I see you. Everywhere. You're here but you-you're also there," said Peter as he pointed to another corner of the room. "And there-" this time while pointing at the ceiling.

Abbott had gone silent. For a moment, they just sat there and wept together. 

"I'll find a way to fix this," she said when the caretaker had finally quieted down. "It must be the cure-something must've gone-gone wrong."

"No, no, Jules," Peter replied, softly shaking his head. He had settled into laying on her lap, looking up at her. "The cure saved me. This must be something else."

She nodded, though unconvinced by his words. "Then I'll find another cure."

He smiled before closing his eyes. "I bet you will."

Just as Abbott leaned down to kiss him, the memory faded away and everything around Severus darkened. A tunnel-like vision formed around him; there was no light where he stood, only darkness. All around him, he could hear distinct voices shimmering in the background. But they weren't calling out his name.

"Stop!"

Severus stepped aside just in time as the caretaker, Peter, ran past him. The man was clutching his head and screaming as the voices got clearer. They were calling out to the caretaker, Severus realized.

"Stop! I won't-I won't listen-do you hear me?" Peter was screaming. "Get out! Get out!"

But his screaming did not stop the voices from getting any louder. As Severus looked around, he realized the tunnel was shrinking, its walls growing closer and closer so that it was suffocating them. Severus felt his own breath hitch as the room became cold and dark and tight.

"Stop-" Peter whispered, breathless now. "Jules, Jules, Jules."

And then they were both swallowed by the complete darkness. Severus felt an arm grip him and he shouted in alarm as he felt his body moving upwards. He resurfaced back in his office, glancing at Abbott with a mixture of understand and sympathy. It had taken her a great deal of courage and bravery to have allowed him to see all of that, he knew.

"What happened? That last memory-"

"It wasn't exactly my memory," Abbott explained calmly. "Moments before he had died, Peter had managed to transfer the images in his mind so that I could see what he had been seeing. The thought to do that had never occurred to me-I spent many months loathing myself for having been so stupid-"

"Why?"

"If I could've seen what he'd been seeing, if I'd known...I might've been able to save him..."

"You don't know that, Abbott," Severus replied. "How long did he have? Before he-?"

"A month," she said in a cold voice. "That was mostly spent moving in and out of St. Mungo's before he finally decided to give it all up. Thought I'd have a better chance at fixing him...though he was greatly mistaken, wasn't he?"

"A month," Severus repeated. "I've had longer. Why is that?"

Abbott stood up, pacing the room. "I've been working on the cure for a long time now, Professor. I've made miniscule but impactful changes to it...when Peter was attacked, I was still learning many things about the Boggart's poison. When it came to you, I'd already figured out how to get it out of one's system."

"Not completely, though," Severus said pointedly.

"No, not completely," she said rather sadly. "Of course, I'd had hoped no one else would go venturing into that particular room in the Department of Mysteries."

Severus shrugged. "You can thank Potter for that, I suppose."

"I'm not here to talk about Potter, Severus, however engaging that conversation might be."

Severus turned his head to address her. "You're here to talk about me."

"I've put in the effort on my part. I've shown you all there is to be shown. You've wanted to know for so long my interest in your case and now you know. I don't want whatever happened to Peter to happen to anyone else."

"You gave me your trust," Severus said slowly and Abbott nodded. "But it isn't as simple for me. You know that."

"Why?" Abbott demanded. "Because you can't trust me? Or you're scared to?"

"The things you're asking me to share with you, Abbott...no one knows except me. Not even Dumbledore! And for me to just-just open all of that up-for me to show you exactly the kind of man I am-"

"I don't care who you are, Severus! You've killed someone before, is that it? Because if you have, I have no-"

"I've never killed anyone," Severus snarled. "I'd never stoop that low!"

They stared at each other, tension high in the air.

"Then...then what is it? What do you not want me to see?"

Severus was quiet. "I don't want to think about what I've done in the past."

Abbott laughed, much to Severus' surprise. "Is that what this has been about all along? You don't want to take accountability for your past? You're afraid of seeing who you are? Or who you used to be?"

Severus eyed her dangerously. "Confrontation of one's identity can be...disastrous...Miss Abbott."

"Or it can be something powerful," Abbott replied, crossing her arms. "If this works, if I do save you from this Boggart, Professor, it won't just be a breakthrough for me. You'll be able to clear your conscience-whether it's guilt or fear of acknowledging your past mistakes, it doesn't matter-by the end of it, you'll be a better man."

"That is impossible," Severus said and Abbott sighed in defeat. "But...but I am willing to try...if it means someone else more...worthy...might be saved in the future."

"You do realize the Ministry is working on destroying that Boggart as we speak? There might not even be anyone else for it to fall victim to," Abbott retorted.

Severus gave her a scowl. "Do you want me to help you or not?"

Abbott looked up, her face ecstatic. "You mean that, Severus?"

"It's Professor Snape."

"You're willing to lend me your trust? Professor?"

"As you have lent me yours," Severus said, bowing his head lightly. "So, Abbott, what will you have me do?"

She smiled, flicking her head in the direction of the pensive. "So, Sirius Black...tell me everything."

Chapter Text

Severus was panting slightly as he stood in front of the Fat Lady's portrait. His face was red as he motioned to the woman who was shaking her head disapprovingly at him.

"Can-can you let me-in?" he said through short breaths.

He was about fifteen or sixteen here, and his hair had grown a considerable length. It fell over his face, covering his face like parting curtains - not unlike his old-self. The Fat Lady gazed at him, her gaze lingering especially long at his green-themed uniform.

"Password?" she asked with a yawn.

"I don't know! Look-this isn't my House. I just need to talk to someone in there-"

"Young man," said another portrait above the Fat Lady's. "Do you know what time it is?"

Severus looked up at the man staring down at him with a blank expression. "What-? I don't know-listen, if you just let me in-"

"This is no time for students to be out of bed. I mean, really, demanding to be let into the common room without a password and an excuse as flimsy as 'oh, I'm only meeting a friend'...and at the devil's hour, too..." the man retorted, eyeing Severus derisively.

"It's an emergency," Severus said, turning back to the Fat Lady. "I don't suppose you could get someone to wake her up, do you? Her name is Lily-Lily Evans-"

The man in the portrait tutted, incredibly offended by Severus' blatant ignoring of him. "In my time, they would take horrid children like you and put-"

"No offense," Severus said with a vicious snarl of his own, "but I don't care! Could you get her please? I need to speak with Lily Evans."

"And what do you intend on telling her, Snivellus?"

For a brief second, Severus' eyes widened and his hand twitched to move for his wand. But he allowed reservation to stall his movements and instead turned to see James Potter, Sirius Black and Peter Pettigrew standing behind him. Black and Pettigrew had their wands pointed at him while Potter had a large cloak bundled up underneath his arm. Severus watched them quietly, not daring to speak. It would be dangerous to do anything in their territory, he thought. 

"None of your business, Potter," he snapped. 

Black raised his wand so it was several inches away from Severus but Potter stopped him.

"Not in front of them, Padfoot," Potter said, glancing hurriedly at the portraits that were watching them carefully.

Severus relaxed instantly; it appeared Potter did have an ounce of intelligence about him, after all. With the knowledge that he would not be harmed in front of these witnesses, Severus gave a triumphant sneer.

"Don't know what you're so happy about, Snivellus," Black said. "I'd get out of here as fast as I could if I were you."

"Or what?"

"I'll knock you off on your feet, that's what," replied Black with clenched teeth. "We don't want to have to be the ones to wash the grease marks you leave behind on our steps."

Severus' face turned red. "You think I'm afraid of you, Black? I could best you in a duel any day."

Black laughed and Pettigrew followed. "And yet, Snivellus," Black said viciously, "you never seem to. All you are is a big talker."

"How many times have you ever taken on me on your own, Black?" Severus replied coolly. "Seems to me you're the big talker."

Potter was quick enough to grab Black before he could pounce on Severus. Severus jumped back and his own wand was out as the figures in the portraits began to complain and murmur in distress.

"Move," Severus said, pointing his wand at the three boys.

But it was Potter who refused to step aside this time. "Not until you tell us what you want with Evans."

"You tell me what you're doing out here and I will."

"That's none of your concern, Snape," Potter said seriously.

Severus let out a bark of laughter. "Funny," he said smiling. "I could say the same to you."

"You talk too much, Snivellus," said Pettigrew, at last speaking up for his friends. "I ought to shut your mouth up."

"Ah, so you do have a spine. Thought you let your friends do all the talking while you simply stand there and do...well, nothing."

"Let-go-James-he's-too-much-"

"Fine!" Potter exclaimed at last, his grip on Black slackening. "Attack-him-then, Sirius! Get-us-all-in-trouble-"

"Oh, dear," said Severus, his sneer growing wider. "You three weren't allowed on that little excursion with Lupin, then?"

At that, Black had stopped struggling and his face immediately paled. The two others with him shared his expression of shock that Severus allowed himself yet another laugh.

"How do you know about that?" Black whispered.

"I saw everything," Severus said, his voice breathless as excitement took over him. He had power now, control over the conversation. "Where was Madam Pomfrey taking him?"

"Shut up, Snape," Potter warned. 

But Severus was far from done. "I've always known there was something terribly wrong with him-"

"If you tell anyone about what you saw-"

"You'll what? Attack me? Kill me? You don't frighten me, Potter, and least of all that dog of yours," Severus said, watching Potter struggle to find the right words to say. "I have my theories about Lupin but we'll have that conversation another time..."

"You see, James? We ought to teach this slimy git a lesson-"

"No, Padfoot-stop-"

The two of them began to struggle; Black trying to free himself from Potter's grasp while Potter did all he could to restrain the other boy. Pettigrew, on the other hand, seemed content to just watch them wrestling one another. Severus chose this exact moment to slip past them and into the darkness.

Potions had ended at last and Severus was one of the last ones to leave the classroom. Lily had just left, hurrying after her friends to make it to the Astronomy Tower in time. He had waved her off, telling her he'd meet up with her by the lake as they usually did and she had happily obliged to it. Slughorn was still at his desk when Severus passed by him, head poring over something one of the Gryffindor students had given him. Severus gave a slight roll of his eyes as exited the dungeon, intending to head up to the library to finish the rest of his homework for the week.

He had almost made it to the exit, too,  before a pair of hands roughly pulled him into a dark corner of the corridor, his back was shoved so hard against the wall that he let out a pained grunt.

"What-?"

"Shut your mouth, Snivellus."

Severus froze briefly and then he was trying to reach for his wand. But Sirius Black was much, much quicker. Severus felt his wand being pulled away from him and then pressed against his throat. The two were breathing rather heavily, with Black pushed up on Severus that their noses were almost touching. Severus wondered momentarily if Black could hear the pounding of his heart and give away his fear. They did not speak, there was only the sounds of their panting in that empty corridor.

"Let go of me, Black," Severus said, hating how weak and timid he sounded. For a second, he felt as though he were back at Spinner's End and facing off his father once more. This was Black's revenge for everything that he had said the night before, he thought. It was he, Severus, whom had challenged Black to a duel and it seemed the other boy had taken up to it. And now, wandless and helpless, he could only wait until Black told him what he planned on doing with him. Black and his friends were annoying, yes, but Severus knew without them - Black could often be unhinged and mad. Dangerous, even.

"Spoke like a real big man last night," Black said jeeringly. "All I hear now is a squeak."

"Give me my wand, then, Black," Severus said, gritting his teeth. "Give me my wand and I'll show you."

Black laughed menacingly, tightening his grip on Severus' collar and dragging him closer still. "Now why would I do that?"

"Either fight me like a man or let go of me."

"You wanted to know where Remus was going, didn't you?" Black asked.

Severus stiffened at that but he did not respond. Black had a murderous glint in his eye and Severus did not wish to provoke him any further. 

"Didn't you?" he snarled as he leaned in close. Severus shut his eyes, feeling his body trembling. He could smell Black's breath, and it stank of Firewhiskey.

"Yes," Severus whispered frantically. "No."

Black laughed. "Yes, Snivellus? Or no?"

"I-I don't know-let go of me, Black."

"Oh," Black said with a pout. "But you seemed so excited to know all about it last night."

"Fine-fine, then tell me."

Black smiled terrifyingly, his hair was touching Severus' face now; that was how close he was.

"Okay," he said, letting go of Severus so he could poke his nose lightly. "Okay, I'll tell you, Snape. Since you asked so nicely. He was going down the Whomping Willow."

Severus brushed at his clothing, wanting nothing more than to put an able distance between him and Black. Yet, his curiosity would not let him leave without knowing.

"And what does he do there?"

"A secret," Black murmured, pretending as though he were thinking very hard. "But I suppose I can tell you. You can keep a secret, can't you, Snivellus?"

Once again, Severus chose not to answer. He eyed Black carefully; Black was holding Severus' wand in between his fingers, playing with it aimlessly.

"Tell me," Severus said, wondering how quick he'd have to move to catch Black off-guard and steal his wand from him.

"He goes down there because-"

Black had paused momentarily, his words hanging mid-air. Severus' eyes shot back up to Black's to see why he had stopped.

"But why would I tell you when you could so easily find out for yourself, Snivellus?"

"What?" Severus asked, annoyed now.

"I'll tell you how you can get in there. We've been down there before with him-we know how."

Severus had to admit he was rather amazed by Black's hearty confession. It was evident that he was somewhat drunk-even in Slughorn's class, he had managed to destroy both his and Potter's potion while drawling on about how he should be with Moony, whatever that meant. But even in his state, he didn't think he would give Severus this much information. Surely he was sober enough to know who exactly he was speaking to. But Severus' logic aside, Black showed no signs of stopping.

"It's impossible to get past the Whomping Willow. Everyone knows that," said Severus, egging Black on on purpose.

"Not everyone is as clever as us," Black snapped, irritated now. "All you have to do, Snivellus, is prod the knot on the end of the tree. Just use a long stick on it...or a spell…you know a lot of them, don’t you, freak? Just use it and the tree will freeze right over..."

"Yeah, right," Severus replied in disbelief.

Immediately, Black gave a roar before pushing Severus against the wall again. "You think I'm lying?"

"Why would you tell me all of this, Black?"

"You asked for it, didn't you?" Black asked, his words slurring a little now. "You asked so nicely, Snivellus."

Severus gave a snort before extending his hand out. "Give me my wand."

"What for?" Black asked. "So you can jinx me?"

"I'll need it if I want to get through the Whomping Willow, won't I?"

"Oh, no, no, no, Snivellus," Black said, shaking his head. "You can't go now or you'll miss the fun!"

"Fun?" Severus asked, raising his eyebrow.

"You have to go in the early morning...sometime after midnight...after the moon rises...that's when it starts."

"What starts?"

"You see for yourself, Snivellus. And then you'll know."

Black then shoved Severus hard onto the floor before throwing his wand across. Severus heard it fall and roll away into the darkened corridor, cursing Black's name as he did. By the time he'd gotten to his feet and found the damned wand, Black had disappeared from sight. 

Severus stood there for a moment, staring at the space where Black had held Severus against his will just seconds ago. After that, he turned and headed in the direction of the common room.

It was nearing midnight by the time Severus made it up to the Whomping Willow. Lily had taken up much of his time by her wanting to go through the entire Charms syllabus to work out her little experiment. Usually, Severus would have found it entertaining, but tonight, his mind was taken up by something more interesting.

Black had told him where Lupin had been going each night the past week, and had even told him how to get in there. Of course, there was a high chance that Black had been making a fool out of him. He had decided by the end of the hour, and was entirely convinced too, that Potter and his friends had planned this entire thing just to carry out an ambush on him. This theory made sense; they would be out of the castle so that meant there wouldn't be any witnesses, they had also given him a specific location which meant they could lie in wait for him by the Whomping Willow quite easily.

He had been so distracted that even Lily had commented that his thoughts were elsewhere. He had apologized quickly, wondering if he ought to tell her about what had happened with Black. After wrestling with the thought, he decided it was best not to involve Lily. Potter and his friends had mocked him plenty times before about how Lily had to come to his defense and he was tired of it. He knew that Lily would want to go with him if he did tell her so he pushed the thought away from him. So he had lied about wanting to spend the night out in the grounds and watched her sneak back to the school before setting out to the Whomping Willow.

Now, as he stood in front of the enormous tree, Severus braced for an attack. But it never came. He waited there for ten whole minutes but neither Potter nor Black were anywhere to be seen. His heartbeat began to pick up in excitement as he realized that perhaps Black may have been truthful about the entire thing after all.

"Only one way to find out," he said to himself, drawing out his wand.

He crept close enough so the tree swung in his direction but couldn't quite reach him. He aimed his wand at the knot Black had mentioned and a jet of light shot out to hit it directly. The tree gave a shudder before its violent branches became suspended mid-air.

Severus cheered rather victoriously as he got to his feet. Now that he could easily cross to the base of the tree, he could see that a tunnel-like hole had been etched into it. It was dark, even with his wand light shining into it, which did not ease Severus' slight fear. There was no telling what awaited him in there, he thought. Perhaps Potter and his friends were waiting in there. Black had mentioned that they had been down there before, hadn't he? But all that meant was that the worst Severus could expect was being outnumbered four to one. And he was more than used to that.

"I'll take on them. I'll take on all of them," he said as he ducked under to enter the tunnel.

He could hear the crunches of dry leaves beneath his feet as he walked through it. As he moved further downwards, he realized the tunnel was more like a cave. Though the walls were rather narrow, there was enough of a gap for someone twice or thrice Severus' size to slip through. He had made about a quarter of a way when he had heard a blood-curdling howl that swept through the tunnel. It sounded as though an animal were in pain. Severus gripped his wand tight, diminishing the light of his wand entirely. As he was enveloped in total darkness, Severus did not know where his courage to take yet another step came from.

He heard a noise behind him and quickly turned.

"Who's there?" he asked just as another howl ripped through the air.

Just as the noise filled the tunnel, Severus felt someone grab his hand and pull.

"Run! Run, Snape!"

The voice had startled Severus more than the eerie howl he'd heard. He would recognize that voice anywhere; it was Potter. So he had been right after all. Potter had planned an ambush, except he'd been waiting down here to do it. Severus raised his wand, refusing to move any further.

"Lumos!" Severus yelled.

Everything happened within a split second. As the light from the wand illuminated the tunnel, the first thing he had seen had been Potter's startled face. Potter's mouth seemingly moved in slow exaggeration and his eyes widened at something behind Severus.

"Put out the light!" Potter screamed. "Put out the light, you idiot!"

But Severus neither put out the light or lowered his wand. Instead, he turned around to see what it was Potter was staring at. There was no words to describe Severus' emotions in that moment.

Upon meeting eyes with the thing at the end of the tunnel, Severus felt his blood run cold. The hairs on the back of his neck stood as he watched the monster lift itself up to stand on its two hind legs before letting out another dreadful howl. Severus turned back to Potter in shock, as though he needed assurance that everything that was happening was real and not something he had dreamed up.

"HE'S SEEN US!" Potter yelled. "RUN! RUN, YOU FOOL!"

This time, Severus did not stop to argue. With Potter's grip on him, Severus started to run. He had never run that fast before in his life, not ever. And he had almost made it to the other side, too. But fear took over Severus as he turned back to see where that creature was. It turned out that as fast as both Severus and Potter were, that thing was much faster. Every leap it took covered at least four to five of Severus' own steps. Potter dragged Severus, beckoning him to run faster but Severus knew it was futile.

"We have to fight," he said in desperation. "We have to kill it or it'll kill us!"

"No!" Potter yelled. "We can't kill him! Come on-come on, we can run-!"

"We can take it!" Severus pleaded. "If we both try-"

Severus hadn't even finished speaking before he heard heavy footfalls. He turned around with his wand, watching as the werewolf leapt into the air in Severus' direction. Severus swung his wand without thinking and heard a slash rip through the air. 

"NOOOOOOOO! MOONY!"

Potter slammed Severus aside, his wand flying off into the darkness for the second time that day. 

"What are you doing-? You could've killed him-!"

Severus turned back to see the fallen werewolf. His curse had seemingly worked; the monster had been struck right across its abdomen where a steady flow of blood was now leaking from.

"Move-move, Potter! I'll finish it off!"

"You can't! You'll kill him! You'll kill Remus!"

But there was no time to react. The werewolf had gotten back to its feet and with its last ounce of energy had jumped onto Severus' chest, pushing him to the ground. Severus let out a terrible scream as the werewolf's weight came down upon his shoulders, pinning him down and preventing him from moving at all.

"Potter! Help!" Severus pleaded as the werewolf howled.

Severus looked upwards to see Potter standing at the edge of the tunnel. And then a moment later, Potter was sprinting towards where Severus was laying, his wand out.

"CONFUNDO!" Potter shouted and a pink light hit the werewolf just as it was about to take a chomp off of Severus' face.

The beast let out a horrid yelp before scurrying off into the darkness. Potter did not wait around; he grabbed Severus and pulled him up to his feet. Without saying anything else, he began to head for the exit. Severus followed after, wandless and defenseless. 

They made it out of the Whomping Willow but did not stop until they were a short proximity of the castle. When pain took over his stiff joints and shoulder, Severus finally collapsed. He began to take in sharp breaths as he digested everything he had seen. He had just encountered a werewolf, he thought. An actual werewolf. And what more, that particular werewolf had been none other than Remus Lupin himself. That had been his terrible secret. That had been what Potter and his friends had been trying to hide from Severus finding out. A sharp pain took over Severus and he doubled over in pain.

A short distance away, he heard Potter call out his name. He then heard Potter's footsteps running over to where he was.

"Sniv-Snape, what-what's wrong?" Potter asked, his voice full of fear.

"My-shoulder-" Severus said, shutting his eyes as the pain became too much for him. 

"Were you-? Were you bitten?"

Severus could not answer him. He did not know whether the werewolf had bitten him or not, everything had happened so fast. Severus felt Potter kneel down next to him, touching his shoulder with hesitation.

"DON'T TOUCH ME!" Severus screamed. Potter quickly moved away from him.

"I'm just-I'm just going to check, Snape," Potter said pleadingly. But Severus did not want him coming anywhere close enough to touch. 

Despite the pain, Severus sat up and began to unbutton his shirt. It was torn and he could see spots of blood all over his clothes. He hissed under his breath, knowing full well he couldn't afford to buy anymore clothes for the rest of the year. His mother was growing more ill by the day and Severus asking for more money would only upset her. He'd have to try and mend it on his own, he thought, as pale fingers pushed apart the fabric to look at his shoulder. There were light scratches but none that indicated he had been bitten or scratched by the werewolf.

Potter let out a laugh of relief. "It's okay," he said, falling back. "It's okay. You haven't been bitten. Your arm looks broken though, but that's the worst of it."

Severus stared at him for a moment and before he could control himself, had burst into sobs. He did not know why he was crying. All he felt was anger and fear and his chest. He was pent up with so much rage that he felt his head would simply explode from it. And yet, all that he could do was sit here and cry.

"Snape-snape, what-? Are you-are you alright? I'll take you to Madam Pomfrey-come-come on," Potter said, staggering now towards the sobbing Severus.

His hand grazed lightly against Severus' shoulder before he screamed again. "I SAID DON'T TOUCH ME!"

Potter looked at Severus, his expression dejected and confused. "Let me help-"

"He tried...to kill...me," Severus whimpered, pressing the light bruise that had started to form on his right shoulder.

"No..." said Potter, as if imploring Severus to understand. "No, he just couldn't control-"

"CONTROL?" Severus roared. "CONTROL? HE SENT ME AFTER THAT THING HOPING-KNOWING IT'D GET ME KILLED! HE'S A MURDERER!"

"What are you talking about-?"

"BLACK, POTTER! I'M TALKING ABOUT BLACK! HE-HE TRIED TO KILL ME! HE SHOULD BE IN AZKABAN!"

"You're still alive, aren't you?" Potter replied. "Sirius-he didn't mean it-"

"What have I ever done to him?" Severus asked, tears streaking his face. 

"What?" Potter asked, shaking his head. "You're-you're hurt-let me take you-"

"What have I done that was so bad that I deserve death?"

"What are you-what are you talking about? You're not-"

"I see," Severus said, wiping away at the flow of tears that seemed to be endless. "So it's just my existence then? It's so worthless to you lot that it doesn't matter if I'm dead?"

Potter tried to approach Severus again with pleading hands. "If you just let me help-"

"And Lupin...I thought...I'd thought he was just ill...but to let a werewolf run around the school..."

"He's not running around the school. He was-he was in the tunnel-it was supposed to be safe-"

Severus laughed mockingly. "Safe, Potter?" he said, motioning towards the bruise and cuts on his shoulder. "This is what you call safe?"

”You know what I mean! This wasn’t supposed to happen-none of it!”

”Then why did it? Must’ve thought it’d have been a good laugh, did you? Pushing me around wasn’t enough anymore?”

”Snape, I swear to you - neither me nor Remus had anything to do with this - and Sirius…well he-“

”He what, Potter?”

Potter’s mouth was agape as he tried to think of something to say, anything to convince Severus that this had all been a harmless joke. In the end, Potter seemed to realize lying was futile.

”He was drunk, alright? He’d had a bad day and he’d drank a bottle of Firewhiskey or two…”

Severus’ lip curled. “So that justifies this, then? Poor Black had had a bad day so it was alright to help him plan my murder?”

”I told you - we didn’t plan it -”

”Then why are you here, Potter? How did you even know I was here? I’ll tell you…you got cold feet, didn’t you? You realised what would happen if that monster back there attacked and killed me!”

”Sirius told me! He realised what he’d done and he told me! The second I found out - I came to get you! You’ve got to believe me, Snape-Severus, I’m begging you-”

”How noble of you,” Severus said sarcastically. He had stopped crying at last and a feeling of malice had overcome him now. “Defend yourself like this and perhaps they’ll only suspend you instead of throwing you into Azkaban like they will the other two.”

Potter was silent for a long time. The two of them were still lying on the wet grass, staring at each other.

”Snape, don’t do this,” Potter pleaded.

”Should’ve thought about that before setting a werewolf on me,” Severus replied, getting to his feet.

”Wait-wait,” Potter said, following Severus. “Where are you going?”

Severus spoke without turning. “To Dumbledore. Thought you were real clever, didn’t you, offering to take me to the Hospital Wing. Didn’t want any evidence of foul play-oh no, Potter. That won’t be necessary…I’m going straight to Dumbledore. Once he sees this…there’ll be hell to pay…”

”I’d rather die before I let any of my friends end up in Azkaban, Snape.”

Snape finally turned to address him with a sneering smile. “You do love playing the hero, don’t you? By all means, come along, Potter. I shall like to see your face when you see both your friends sentenced to prison-perhaps they shall even assign the Dementor’s Kiss…one can only hope…”

Potter looked as though he’d been slapped in the face. Severus, however, did not revel in his enemy’s defeat just yet. He knew there would be a time and place for it later. All he knew now was that he’d have to get to Dumbledore’s office as quickly as he could. Vengeance was sweet, and at last, he thought as he made his way to the school, he would finally be rid of Potter and his stupid friends.

Severus stood in the headmaster’s office, his face red. It was breakfast time but he had been summoned to meet with Dumbledore along with the criminals Sirius Black and James Potter. Severus’ arm was in a sling; Madam Pomfrey had tended to his wounds late last night after he’d met with the headmaster. His shoulder had been dislocated (something he was quite used to by now) but she had given him assurance that it’d be healed up in three days’ time.

Severus was the closest to Dumbledore at his desk while the other two boys stood by the closed door of his office. Severus had walked in with glee so clearly shining in his face only to realise things wouldn’t be looking too good for him.

”So what does this mean?” Severus asked, his voice merely a whisper.

”Well, Mr. and Mrs. Potter have agreed that suspension is an apt punishment for Mr. Potter here. They have also agreed to allow  Mr. Black to carry out his suspension in their household-given that Mrs. Black has… kindly…declined the offer to do so.”

”Then when is his hearing?”

Dumbledore raised his eyebrow. “His hearing, Mr. Snape?”

”For Black,” said Severus, a hint of frustration in his voice. “For attempted murder. I think he ought to be placed in Azkaban-at least until the Ministry rules his sentence. For my-for everyone’s safety.”

Dumbledore smiled. “There will not be a hearing, Mr. Snape, neither will there be a sentence. This matter has been entirely resolved within school properties.”

Severus clenched his fists as he heard Potter and Black let out a small cheer behind him. “So what-what does this mean? Black tried to kill me and you’re just letting him go?”

”On the contrary, Mr. Snape. As I have said, both Mr. Black and Mr. Potter will be suspended from school for a month…they have also been assigned three months’ detention when they do return. I’d say it’s a fair punishment…given the circumstances…”

There was a loud shattering noise and the window behind Dumbledore exploded. Pieces of glass flew and landed all around the headmaster but he did not say anything.

”I don’t believe this,” Severus said, his cheeks flushed. “They try to kill me and all they get is a suspension? You’re protecting them-you’re actually protecting criminals-this is-this is injustice-“

”SEVERUS SNAPE,” Dumbledore’s voice boomed through the room and Severus quieted. “I will not tolerate disrespect, is that understood?”

Severus was almost in tears now, once more riddled with growing anger inside of him.

”Now, my judgement is perfectly transparent, I assure. Just as how I have reviewed your memories of the night before, I have done so with Mr. Potter, Mr. Black as well as Mr. Lupin. Mr. Black has been suspended for underage drinking and this prank he had planned on you. And Mr. Potter for having provided Mr. Black here with illegal Firewhiskey stolen from Hogsmeade.”

”This wasn’t a prank!” Severus exclaimed. “This was murder!”

”And yet, Mr. Snape, you stand here before me alive and well.”

Severus struggled to speak but was much too busy drowning in resentment and hopelessness.

”I have written to everyone’s parents, Mr. Snape,” said Dumbledore, “and everyone who has responded have agreed not to take this matter to the Ministry. Your parents have yet to respond and owing to the nature of this business, I have had to find a suitable punishment of which the majority do agree.”

Severus felt his mouth go dry. Dumbledore had written to everyone’s parents, including his. His mother couldn’t really talk or see anymore which meant his Muggle father would’ve been the one to have read the letter. And he wouldn’t have given a rat’s arse about any of it. His own parents did not care whether their son lived or not…while Potter and Black’s parents had so eagerly defended their children’s actions…

”And Lupin?”

”Remus had nothing to do with this!” Black yelled but Dumbledore had raised his hand to stop him.

“As I have said, I have reviewed everyone’s memories and Remus Lupin had no idea of what Mr. Black had planned-“

”It’s a lie!” Severus shouted. “They we’re all in on it! They hate me-please, Professor Dumbledore, please-“

”Mr. Potter, Mr. Black, you may return to the Great Hall…oh, and Madam Pomfrey has allowed you both to say your goodbyes to Mr. Lupin before Mr. and Mrs. Potter arrive to take you home. I do hope this suspension period will allow you to evaluate the seriousness of your actions and teach you to show better kindness to your peers.”

”Yes, Professor,” Potter and Black said in unison. “Thank you, sir.”

”And I believe an apology is owed to Mr. Snape, here?”

Severus did not take his eyes away from Dumbledore’s as he heard a half-hearted apology from the two boys behind him. He continued to seethe even after they’d left.

“You seem upset.”

”Why do you disregard the horrors I have been through so easily? Is it because I’m a Slytherin? Is it because you know I have no one to defend me as richly as Potter?”

”You throw accusations so carelessly, Mr. Snape. No other student would have dared speak in such an insolent way to me.”

Severus did not speak out of fear of Dumbledore. The man had a very dark and grim expression upon his face now that kept Severus’ lips glued together.

”Now there’s the matter of your punishment,” said Dumbledore.

”Punishment?” Severus gawked.

”You were blatantly out after curfew; a rule, which had you followed, would not have gotten you into all this trouble.”

Again, Severus said nothing.

”You will serve a month’s suspension at home,” said Dumbledore.

Severus wanted to argue. But more than that, he wanted to kick and punch and scream that all of this was cruel and unfair. He had just survived a horrifying ordeal and not only had he learned that the perpetrators were getting off with menial punishments but that he, too, was being punished. As though it had been his fault that Black had wanted him dead.

”Do not think I am doing this to be cruel, Severus,” Dumbledore said kindly. “I have done all that I can to be fair. When your parents did not respond to my letter last night, I paid them a visit to ensure they did know what had transpired.”

Severus felt his heart stop for a second. Dumbledore…at Spinner’s End?

”Your mother is quite ill,” said Dumbledore pitifully. “You are aware?”

”Yes,” Severus said sharply.

”I explained to her as I did your father that she could be given better care at St. Mungo’s…but she had declined. Your father also had a lot to say on the subject. Has he always been like that?”

Severus nodded.

”You must understand, Severus, I cannot be impartial to you or Mr. Potter and Mr. Black. Thought Mr. Black’s mother seemed less interested in her son’s life, she spoke up for him nonetheless. With both parents asking for their children’s reprieve and yours showing less of a concern…the worst I could give them were suspensions…”

”And my punishment? I’m deserving of it, am I?”

Dumbledore hesitated before he spoke. “I have my reasons and I implore you to trust  my decision.”

There was no more argument in Severus left. Something flickered in his eyes as he regarded Dumbledore in a new light; it was of utmost loathing and anger. But Dumbledore did not back away from it.

At last, Severus turned to leave. As he reached the door, Dumbledore spoke again.

”Oh, and if the news about Remus Lupin’s condition becomes known to anyone…anyone at all, it will be expulsion. I will not have the poor boy’s life ruined for something he is unable to control. Is that understood?”

Severus grit his teeth, opening the door. “Yes, sir.”

”And hold on to that wand of yours. You’re lucky we found it in one piece…”

Severus and Abbott emerged from the pensive. They were back in Severus’ office and the time was past midnight. 

Neither spoke for a whole minute, both digesting everything that they had just seen in Severus’ memories.

”Do you…want to talk about it?” Abbott asked. “Tonight was a lot of progress and I don’t want to overwhelm you. If you want me to go, I understand. I can always come back when you’re ready-“

”No,” Severus murmured. “Time is a precious commodity for me, Abbott, and I shan’t like to waste any more or it. Tell me. Tell me everything.”

Abbott looked at him with a sad smile. “Where shall I start?”

Chapter Text

Julia pondered rather heavily on the memories she had just seen, quite unsure on how she should begin. The past months she'd come to learn communication was not an easy thing to do with Severus Snape. He often partook in conversation, simply waiting - or even hoping - someone would say the wrong thing so that he could eject himself with mock anger or offense. But what proved to be a much more difficult task than talking to Severus was, in fact, reading him as the person he was.

Prior to meeting this man, Julia had thought quite highly of her skills to read and understand people. As a Healer, she had come to meet many people - most were quite transparent about who they were, others were slightly harder to crack but they did so anyway. But Severus was different. He was a spy, had been for a long, long time. He had become quite good at hiding himself way, revealing to people only what he thought was necessary. This meant that no one could get close enough to understand why he was the way that he was. To others, he came across as sullen or sarcastic, reserving his charm or likeable traits for the rare occasions he was in company with people he liked...or tolerated. 

She hadn't understood, the first time that she had met him, why he behaved in this manner. Before, she had assumed he was the way he was because he had forced himself to keep others away. That he had done all of this to keep people away from learning about his dangerous profession when he wasn't teaching in school. She had chalked Severus Severus' awful behavior as nothing more than a personality trait he had assigned to himself. But now, as she sat across from him and the pensive, she was starting to catch a glimpse of his true character. Severus was not mean and cruel and unlikeable for no reason; he had been hurt before, and quite frequently too. And it was this hurt that had caused him to place a mask over himself so no one could ever truly know him. Severus, Julia realized, was a very troubled man and this dated all the way back into his childhood.

From the memories she'd seen of him, he had a terrible home life. It seemed his father was a heavy drinker and quite frequently violent with Severus and his mother. His mother, on the other hand, seemed to have given up in life and magic. Severus' father had taken all control over his wife, bringing her down with him. As a result, Severus Snape was forced to grow up in an environment of neglect, poverty and violence. To make matters worse, he had appeared to have become a target of several popular bullies when he was at school. With his poor upbringing, Julia could understand how difficult it would've been for Severus to socialize with these peers. The other students would have noticed his awkwardness and that became easier for them to poke fun at him. She suspected this bullying became worse when Severus had retaliated; a boy like him would be prone to violent outbursts as a result of all that anger he could not quite show to his overbearing father. The other children were less of a threat to him, Julia thought, and so he would have no qualms of attacking them. Students like Sirius Black and James Potter would have taken this as a further invitation to prod at him, pushing him over the edge so they could bask in his lack of control and endless rage.

This man who was sitting in front of her, his face expressionless, was the way that he was because no one had helped him when he had needed to. 

"Those memories...they must have been difficult for you to go through again," she said finally.

Severus looked up at her. His black eyes were cold and rigid as they always had been. "How so?" he asked calmly.

"Being put through something like that...you were almost killed...it would've been traumatizing for anyone."

Snape let out a light scoff. "I can assure you, Miss Abbott, I suffered nothing of the sort."

Julia shook her head, adamant on confronting his emotions on this. "It was horrible of Black to have you almost killed like that."

"Yes, well," he said, clearing his throat, "none of that would've happened if I'd not been stupid enough to go along with what he'd said. My carelessness is what had killed me that night."

"No," Julia said with another shake of her head. "You must say things as they are. Black was the one who knowingly sent you out there. He knew you would go and be killed but told you anyway. Your reaction was normal, expected even from a teen your age. If anyone should be held accountable for what happened, it should be Black."

Severus stared at her in astonishment. When he did not say anything, Julia pressed on.

"Do you think there was any real reason why he set you out to die?" she asked. "A specific event-or anything, really?"

"I suppose one could argue that he did what he did to protect his friend."

"Remus Lupin?" Julia asked as Severus nodded. "In that memory, the boys-they seemed panicked when you wanted to know where Lupin was going."

"After everything they'd done to me, they knew I'd do anything to get them expelled from school. When I had Lupin on my radar, I suppose Black feared I'd get to his dear friend first. I already suspected something was not right with Lupin...but I'd never dreamed it'd have been something like...that."

"Well, to me, it seems it was more than protecting his friends," Julia replied.

"What do you mean?" Severus asked with a frown.

"Cornering you like that, telling you everything you needed to know to find out about Lupin...it doesn't really feel as though it's his friend he's protecting."

Severus opened his mouth but paused, hesitating. And then he closed his mouth and urged Julia to continue with a nudge of his head.

"I think James Potter and Sirius Black enjoyed bullying you because you were not afraid to fight back. This came off as highly entertaining for them...your reaction only encouraged them to push you further and further. They liked seeing you out of control...they knew how it would make you feel helpless and powerless...this is also why they attacked you in a group and in front of others. But it seems while Potter may have found your retaliation entertaining, Black may have taken this as a sort of challenge. In his eyes, you were a threat he needed to eliminate."

Julia took a breath before she continued.

"I mentioned before about how Black may have felt jealous of you...this jealousy may have stemmed when he realized he was inadequate. You talked about how Black was disowned by his mother when he was at school, I believe?" she said as Severus nodded. "Black may have sub-consciously compared yourself to him...he may even have pictured his life if you had been in his place. You were, no doubt, good in school and your loyalty to the Slytherin house would've been a cause of celebration had you been born into the Black family. And so...when Black unknowingly assigned you this role, he may have felt challenged and threatened by your presence. And so, this need to put you down and mark you off as nothing more than a prey rose in him. I suspect there may have been additional triggers when his brother - Regulus, was it - began to show more interest in you than in him. As Black began to feel more and more abandonment and shame from his family, the anger he had against them accumulated and had to be spent on the only person he felt he could control. You."

"I am not easy to control," Severus said, unnerved.

"But you were, Severus," Julia said rather sadly. "Black knew how much you hated him, and he used this as a way to control you. He told you everything you needed to know to get to where Lupin was and he knew you'd do exactly what he'd said because he'd trained you to become a victim. And that's what you were in all of this, Severus. You were a victim."

Severus' face had become pale and he looked as though he would become sick. But Julia did not deter from her truth; Severus had become so detached from reality that he could no longer see what was in front of him. 

"I need you to understand this," Julia added, "I need you to see that Black's premeditated murder was born out of hatred and jealousy and self-interest, not as a way to protect his friend."

"And do you know all of this to be true? Or are they based on your assumptions alone?" Snape asked a minute later, his voice soft.

Julia shook her head. "Unless we ask Sirius Black or someone close to him, we may never know. But these are presumptions we can make based on what I know. This is what I do, Professor, and I'm rather good at it. My guesses have very rarely been proved wrong."

"I doubt asking anyone close to Black would get me the truth," Severus said with a huff. "The only person left alive that knew Black well enough is as bad enough as him."

"You're talking about Remus Lupin?" Julia asked.

He nodded.

"So you believe Lupin to have been in on Black's plan? You think all of them conspired to have you murdered?"

"Oh, no," Severus replied with a crooked smile. "I'm not so deluded to think there was a murder conspiracy shared amongst Black and his friends. Shortly after Black and Potter returned from their suspension, I recall Lupin keeping away from the both of them for at least several months. No doubt he was shocked that Black would ever betray him in that manner...it would have been a slap to his face, surely."

"So why then all this hatred towards Lupin? Is it because he's a...werewolf?" Julia asked with a disapproving tone.

Severus snickered. "I don't care that he's a werewolf, Miss Abbott. I do care, however, that he's a coward who only pretends he has morals and virtues when it suits him."

Julia raised her brows, motioning for him to continue.

"Lupin hung around with Potter, Black and Pettigrew even though he was nothing like them. He had no qualms telling other students off when they pushed people around but became silent when it was his own friends against me. Did you know, Miss Abbott, he was even elected as prefect and yet never stopped his friends from behaving like arrogant toerags? He'd simply turn away or excuse himself whenever they laid eyes on me. Many times, he'd stood there watching as Potter and Black tore me inside out. He didn't care that they pushed me around or humiliated me even though he knew it was wrong. He was a coward."

"Did he ever apologize?" Julia asked slowly.

He looked at her for a moment before nodding. "Several times...but this was only when Dumbledore had asked him to teach at Hogwarts. I suppose he wanted to avoid any awkwardness between us...there was also the fact he was indebted to me since I'd been instructed to make him Wolfsbane potions during the full moon. No doubt he felt guilty that I was doing him all these favors when he'd done nothing to stop his friends from targeting me in our school years. Rest assured, the only reason I'd ever helped him was because Dumbledore had asked."

"And you'd do anything for Dumbledore?" she asked.

Severus stopped a moment before answering. "Anything."

"So you think forgiveness is out of the question for Lupin?"

"I don't know," Severus replied. "He apologized about everything-even after I'd outed him as a werewolf and made him lose his job...so he may have been genuine but I...I don't know if I can."

Julia believed him. Severus was a very damaged man and simply asking him to turn around and forgive the person that had been responsible for some of the hurt he'd been through was pointless. She had to encourage him to self-reflect; this was the only way he could look back on his traumatic past and see things for what they were. It was an accomplishment enough to learn that Severus' disdain of people came from a very careful selection process. It was as though he had taught himself to make his hatred justified. Black, for almost killing him. Lupin, for allowing his friends to push him around despite knowing it was wrong. And Potter...

"What about James Potter?"

A scowl formed across Severus' face and she could see the lines of dislike and loathing spread quite quickly in his expression at the mere mention of Potter's name.

"What about him?" Severus asked, his jaw clenched.

"Do you think he was responsible for that night?"

"James Potter was as bad as Sirius Black. Worse, even," said Severus, his hand balling into a fist as he spoke. "But no...no, I don't think he knew, either. Not until it was too late, anyway."

"In comparison of the two," said Julia, "who would you say was worse off?"

"Between Black and Potter?" Severus asked, blinking. "Potter."

Julia leaned back in surprise. "You'll forgive my reaction," she said, "but why Potter? I'd have expected...after Black's attempt on your life..."

"Sirius Black may have been deranged and dangerous, Miss Abbott, but James Potter was at the head of it all. It was Potter that had marked me in our first year. It was him that egged Black on to push me around. If it weren't for Potter, Black would never have known nor cared of my existence."

"This is interesting," she said, inching her chair closer to the desk so she could rap her fingers across the surface. "Why do you think he did that? Was he, like Black, lacking in something he thought you had? Were his parents like Black's?"

Severus laughed rather coldly. "James Potter was a spoiled brat," he spat bitterly. "He had everything he wanted. His parents were pure-bloods and quite wealthy. He was on the Quidditch team and elected Head Boy in our final year. He had everything."

"Then why you?" Julia asked.

Severus fell quiet. He would not look at her and she knew then that he was hiding something from her.

"What did you have that he didn't, Severus?"

Black eyes met with hers and there had been, for a brief of a second, something so brutally honest in his gaze that Julia had to look away.

"It wasn't a thing at all."

"So...a person, then?" asked Julia.

"It doesn't matter," Severus said with a shake of his head. "Not anymore. But my hatred for James Potter is warranted, Miss Abbott. If it weren't for him, I suspect I'd have turned out much differently."

"So you believe he is the reason you grew up to become a Death Eater?"

The question had been unplanned; one moment she had thought it and the next it was spilling out of her mouth. Severus looked at her in utter shock and betrayal.

"Of course not," he said, his cheeks flushed. Julia noticed how his fingers had moved to trace the pattern she knew was burned onto his left forearm. "Becoming a Death Eater was my decision, and mine alone. I just meant...my life-everything I cared about was taken away from me-because of him. He had all he wanted but still it wasn't enough. He needed to strip the only person I had from me."

It was obvious that the words had slipped out of Severus' mouth. He had been so careful and reserved the entire night but bringing up James Potter had unwound him. Severus was growing incoherent and careless, he was allowing words to slip out of his mouth as anger and hatred began to consume him. Julia was witnessing his transformation right before her eyes, and the only trigger had been Potter's name. But she was not going to back away now.

"And who was this person? Professor?" she asked rather boldly.

Severus struggled to speak for a long moment. And then, it was as though he decided he did not care what would happen next.

"Lily."

Julia was taken aback. "Lily Evans?" she asked.

"Lily Potter," he corrected bitterly.

"You were close?" Julia asked, forcing her voice to sound restrained. This confession had left her shaken; she had not expected this at all tonight.

"We knew each other...before Hogwarts."

There was a small strain of silence in the office as Julia processed this information.

"So...so what happened between you two?" 

Severus gave her a pained expression, swallowing hard as he stared at the floor. "We...fell out. It was a misunderstanding-no, no, it was my fault, really. I said something I didn't mean-that I regret even now but...we stopped speaking."

"And it was because of James Potter?"

Severus nodded. "Part of it. A large part of it."

"Why do you say so?" she asked.

This time, he did not answer. Instead, he raised his wand and said "Accio!". A small vial zoomed through the air before he caught it roughly. He moved his wand towards the pensive once more until the image of a red-haired girl bubbled over the surface. She seemed angry, eyes cold and hardened as she stared up at Julia and Severus. But Severus paid no attention as he carefully scooped it into the vial. When he had closed the bottle shut, he placed it atop the desk.

"You can watch it on your own," was all he said.

Julia could see he was uncomfortable and did not want to push him any further. She shifted the conversation back to James Potter.

"So I suppose forgiveness for both Black and Potter is impossible? Or are you unsure like you are of Lupin?"

He shook his head. "How can I?"

"You're right," Julia replied. "Sometimes...people can't be forgiven for what they've done. But you can still heal from it...from the hurt."

Severus' voice had turned dry and raspy. "There's no healing from this. Not from me."

"Why is that?"

"Because, Miss Abbott," Severus said, "people like me cannot heal. I can't just...forget about everything and pretend everything is alright. Because it isn't as simple as that."

"Oh, I would never ask you to forget about everything. The pain...the choices and regrets and everything you've ever felt shouldn't ever be forgotten. They need to serve you as a reminder of who you were...of who you no longer may be. You need to acknowledge everything that's happened to you and you've made happen, Professor. I'd never ask you to simply pretend it never happened."

"Then what are you asking of me?" Severus asked impatiently.

"I'm asking you to accept all of it. You need to understand that it happened for a reason...that everything you've been through is in the past and that it no longer dictates who you are in the present and future. I'm asking you to accept that James Potter was a bully...that Sirius Black was a bully...that your father was a bully...I'm asking you to accept all of that and leave that behind. None of these people matter to you anymore, do they? You can acknowledge that they've caused you pain and anger before but can no longer do so anymore. You can take all of that anger, hurt and betrayal you felt from them and acknowledge they can never make you feel that way again. Take all of that hate and bitterness inside of you, Professor, and flush it away from your heart and your mind. These people can no longer harm you, not unless you allow their memories to pick away at you."

The words seemed to take a long time to reach Severus. He peered through them, his expression hurting as his hand pressed hard against his chest. It was as though he was reliving all of that pain once more in front of her. And Julia wanted nothing more than to reach out and wrap him in a tight embrace. She wanted to tell him that in this moment of self-reflection, he was more human than anyone else. She knew she could not help him overnight but seeing the small changes in him was so overwhelming her heart hurt for him too.

"They took so much," Severus said at last, his voice hoarse. "I can't forgive them."

Julia stood up from her seat and moved to where he was, kneeling so she could look up at him. She grabbed his hand and squeezed it tightly. "Then don't, Severus. Don't forgive them. Just...just leave them behind."

He shook his head. "All I have is this hate....where do I put them?"

"Give it to me," she said with assurance. "Take all of your hate and give it to me, Severus. I'll get rid of it for you."

Julia pushed back the tears in her eyes, unsure why she felt like crying for this man.

"I'll try," he said. "I'll do my best."

"Good," she replied, smiling. "That's all I ask. We'll get you all fixed up, Professor. I promise you."

"Severus," he said. "It's Severus."

Julia's smile did not falter. "Severus."

They stared at each other for several minutes, Julia's fingers tracing the back of Severus' hand. And then she got to her feet, laughing nervously as she glanced at her watch. It was much too late and she knew Severus would have to be up the next day.

"I suppose I'd best be on my way," she murmured. "You have a long day ahead of you, I expect. First day of classes tomorrow?"

Severus nodded, eyes still on Julia.

She began to scoop the trails of memories from the pensive and into the large vial she'd brought. Once the contents of the pensive was empty she turned to him again.

"Well, Severus, do let me know when we can resume this."

He nodded.

"And you'll let me know if you experience any strange symptoms?"

He nodded again.

"Well, alright then. Good night, Prof-Severus. Try and get some rest."

She thought she heard him scoff as she walked past him. Julia resisted the urge to look back at him as she left, feeling very sure that he was watching her very carefully. She stopped at the door and then-

"Why do you think Dumbledore suspended you?" she asked without turning to look at him.

There was a slight shift.

"I don't know," Severus replied.

And with that, she left him in the darkened office in the dungeon feeling just a bit more hopeful that Severus Snape could be saved after all.

Chapter Text

It was going to be a terrible morning, Severus knew that much as he ran a comb through his stiff hair. Not only had his meeting with Abbott gone late into the wee hours, but Severus had barely slept at all the three hours that he did have before breakfast. He gazed at himself in the small mirror perched atop the drawer and cursed lightly at his shabby appearance. Severus' face was pale, his cheekbones protruded sharply so it looked as though it was sticking out of his face - making him more gaunt and haunting. His eyes had dark circles around them, but this had been the case even since his school days. He did not, or rather could not, ever sleep. His cold, dark eyes quickly darted away from the mirror, as though looking at himself for too long would put a curse on him, and glanced at the parchment on the drawer. 

Severus cursed again, huffing loudly as he disregarded the comb and used his fingers to run through his hair. When it was clear that the situation of his hair would not improve, Severus quickly snatched up the piece of paper and got to his feet. He brushed at his robes so they would look presentable at least and glanced one more time at the schedule in his hands.

9 am - Defense Against Dark Arts, 6th Year. Gryffindor - Slytherin.

It was an odd feeling, he had to admit. Severus was very rarely victorious - even at times he had been so sure of it, too - so to have the Headmaster announce he was finally given the one post he would've truly enjoyed teaching sixteen years ago did not quite have the effect he'd had imagined. He knew his younger self would have been taken aback by it, but the present Severus Snape knew this was nothing more than a bribe from Dumbledore. A bribe given to him in exchange for Severus taking his life sometime this year. But still, even despite all of this, he noticed the slight spring in every step that he took.

He arrived in the classroom earlier than the students. No doubt they were all still lagging behind in the Great Hall, eating their breakfasts as slowly as they could manage, all the whilst chatting over their nonsensical affairs. It was, unfortunately, an illness all teenagers suffered through until they reached their own points of maturity. The Defense classroom was extremely spacious, to say the least. The previous teachers had left behind some of their possessions - he spotted Lupin's old Grindylow tank, empty now, pushed tightly against the wall. In the middle of the classroom, a neat row of desks and chairs had been arranged. Aside from that, there was nothing else in the room that indicated it was meant to be occupied at all. 

Severus marched towards the large window that was hidden away by a dust-covered curtain and pulled at it. To his surprise, it gave way quite easily to reveal the dirty window panels through which the sunlight heavily shone through. For a brief moment, Severus' face was filled with warmth and sunlight, and he found himself comforted by it. He allowed it to simmer over him for a few more minutes before he covered it with the curtains once more, enveloping him in the dark once more. He was teaching Defense Against the Dark Arts, he thought. If he allowed himself to be roam carelessly among the students by letting them have their way in the class, there was no way they would take this subject any more seriously than they had with the other professors. Quirrell had been viciously bullied by his own students, Lockhart nothing more than a fraud-and Lupin had tried to be "friends" with the students, and that was hardly an appropriate move on his part. Next came the Death Eater, disguised as Alastor Moody, whom had been the closest to exposing the children to the real world outside of the castle. There was no room in his head to even tolerate Umbridge's idea of teaching at all...the woman had encouraged the already muddled-heads of the students to do nothing but listen to what the blasted Ministry had to say. 

He shook his head. Barty Crouch Jr. was the only one who had had the right idea, it was just poorly executed given his murderous nature. Severus had his work cut out for him; aside from Potter, and perhaps his friends, none of the other students really knew what they were up against. They only thought they did, and it was this lack of knowledge and experience that could easily get them killed once all hell broke lose within the school. He had to be the one to teach them, to show them what they would have to face in a year or two's time, never mind what the students may think of him. They'd find out soon enough, anyway.

He waved his wand once and the large cupboard by the corner groaned open, and a dozen candles flew towards him. He arranged them around the room before lighting them. It did little to brighten the gloomy room but that was not the point. Death Eaters loved to fight dirty, and if there was one thing that would allow them to do so is terrible lighting. A large number of people, if not most, tend to panic when they are suddenly trapped in a darkened room. Their incapability to think renders them helpless, thus allowing the Death Eaters to strike them when most vulnerable. It was the Dark Lord had forced all of them to have trained in the dark. It was the best way to defeat one's opponent. especially one that may be more powerful or bigger than them. Severus would have to let his students do the same.

He tapped his wand again, this time towards the entrance of the door. A minute later, the door burst open and a few photo frames whizzed through the air and landed on his desk. He stared at the topmost picture, his stomach turning as the witch in the photograph jerked and writhed under the Cruciatus Curse. He felt his own fingers twitching, as though they recognized the witch's pain and wanted it to stop. Severus tapped the frames one by one so they moved to hang themselves in different corners of the room. He was quite certain he'd have at least one Head of House running after him, demanding he take down the pictures, but until then he'd keep them up. Again, it was necessary that the students recognize the different ways they could die in the future. They needed to know and learn, to be frightened enough to care about the Dark Arts and the ways of truly going against it.

Once he was done, he leaned back against one of the desks lightly, examining his efforts at claiming the space as his own. It was rather gruesome and horrific, he knew, but this was his classroom and he was going to have it this way. Severus heard loud whispers outside the classroom. He threw open the door before stepping out into the corridor, looking down at the horrified little faces.

"Inside," he said softly.

Severus stood there, holding the door open as the students brushed past him. He watched as their eyes bulged at the sight of the eerie photographs around the room; he could tell they wanted to discuss it but respected his authority enough to stay silent for now. When the last of them had come through, he closed the door and moved to the front of the class, where his desk was. He had grown so accustomed to Granger's movements that he simply, without even looking at her, said, "I have not asked you to take out your books."

He heard a low thump coming from Granger's direction and turned to see her desk was clear like everyone else's. "I wish to speak to you, and I want your fullest attention."

His eyes roved over the students' faces, many of them were wearing frowns or disapproving looks, the latter mostly resonating from one Mr. Potter. Severus made sure to extend his sharp glare in the supposed Chosen One's face before turning his attention back to the class.

"You have had five teachers in this subject so far, I believe. Naturally, these teachers will all have had their own methods and priorities. Given this confusion I am surprised so many of you scraped an O.W.L. in this subject. I shall be even more surprised if all of you manage to keep up with the N.E.W.T. work, which will be more advanced." 

He could see more students share a similar look of dislike as Potter in Severus' direction. It seemed they didn't appreciate the insult, he thought with a hidden smirk. He had their attention, though, which was the main struggle most teachers faced. The second hard part was maintaining that attention. Without another word, he swept off silently to the edge of the room where the large curtain hung over the giant window. He made sure to keep his voice as soft as he possibly could, he wanted them to do all they can to hear what he was saying.

“The Dark Arts," said Severus, "are many, varied, ever-changing, and eternal. Fighting them is like fighting a many-headed monster, which, each time a neck is severed, sprouts a head even fiercer and cleverer than before. You are fighting that which is unfixed, mutating, indestructible."

He turned towards the students to see some of them had gone pale, notably Neville Longbottom.

"Your defenses," he added, a little louder this time, "must therefore be as flexible and inventive as the arts you seek to undo. These pictures” - he indicated a few of them as he swept past - "give a fair representation of what happens to those who suffer, for instance, the Cruciatus Curse" - he waved a hand toward a witch who was clearly shrieking in agony - "feel the Dementor's Kiss" - a wizard lying huddled and blank-eyed, slumped against a wall - "or provoke the aggression of the Inferius" - a bloody mass upon ground. 

"Has an Inferius been seen then?" the Gryffindor girl, Parvati Patil, asked in rather frightened but fascinated voice.

"The Dark Lord has used Inferi in the past," Severus said with a slow nod, "which means you would be well-advised to assume he might use them again. Now.."

Severus smiled to himself. If the students were asking relatable questions, that meant they were listening to every word he was saying. He moved again, this time to his desk, where he stood with his arms crossed behind his back. He looked at them, his face clear of any serious emotions.

"...you are, I believe, complete novices in the use of nonverbal spells. What is the advantage of a nonverbal spell?" he asked.

As a Potions Professor of many years, he had come to learn that aside from a student or two, none of them really ever took the time to research on their subjects before term began. So, it came as no real surprise to him when only one familiar hand shot up into the air. Severus made sure to glance around the room, making sure no one else wanted to speak up before at last turning to Granger.

"Very well - Miss Granger?"

"Your adversary has no warning about what kind of magic you're about to perform," said Granger, her confidence bordering on arrogance, "which gives you a split-second advantage."

Severus paused a moment. This was Granger's problem, he thought. The girl was quite clearly intelligent, far more than anyone else in her year. Yet, rather than spend a moment to think for her own, she relied heavily instead on others. This was no fault of her own, of course-she had been trained to do this as a child. He had been to Muggle school before Hogwarts, he knew how the teachers there praised students for their retention skills rather than teach the children to understand difficult concepts. But she was sixteen now and no textbook could ever prepare her for the horrors she was bound to face. He had to be the one to change her, no matter how painful it might be for her.

"An answer copied almost word for word from The Standard Book of Spells, Grade Six," he said dismissively as someone loudly sniggered, "but correct in essentials. Yes, those who progress in using magic without shouting incantations gain an element of surprise in their spell-casting. Not all wizards can do this, of course; it is a question of concentration and mind power which some" - he stopped to stare at Potter again- "lack." 

Potter had been incapable of learning Occlumency, a skill tied to one's control of emotions and their mind. Although non-verbal spells were much simpler than Occlumency, they were quite similar in nature. One had the intention to hide away in an invisible fashion, the other to attack and cause physical harm to one's opponent. If Potter had struggled with even the basics of Occlumency, the task of non-verbal spells wouldn't come as easily. Then again, Severus thought darkly, the boy had managed to conjure a Patronus Charm in his third year - a feat considering Severus himself only managed to learn it in his fifth year. 

When it was clear Potter did not deter away from Severus' stare, he turned to the class once more. He tapped his wand on one of the students' desk and it began to shake. A few seconds later, the desks and chairs began to move to opposite ends of the classroom, much to the students' surprise. They hurriedly jumped out of the way, hands reaching out to grab their bags before the chairs carried them off with it.

"You will now divide," he went on, "into pairs. One partner will attempt to jinx the other without speaking. The other will attempt to repel the jinx in equal silence. Carry on." 

He moved around the room silently, deciding to wait on his own students first. Draco was quiet and did not say a word as Severus stopped to greet him. He watched as Goyle aimed his wand at Draco, his face turning pink as he tried to jinx him.

"Concentrate, Gregory," he said, hovering behind Goyle. "Have you thought of  a jinx?"

Goyle nodded.

"Picture yourself in your mind. You are holding your wand and casting the spell, can you see it bursting out your wand and hitting Draco?"

"Yes, sir," Goyle grunted but after a minute, nothing happened.

"Draco, you try," Severus said, nodding his head at the pale-faced boy opposite him.

Draco did not look at him, but simply raised his wand. A few minutes went by but nothing happened, and Goyle sniggered loudly.

"Is that funny?" Draco yelled, his face turning red.

"It's not funny," Severus said, coming between them. "Especially not when Gregory himself is incapable of it."

Severus shot Goyle with a dark glower until the boy lowered his wand. "Sorry, Professor."

"Try again, Draco. Practice with someone else-"

"-I don't need you to come in between my fight with him," Draco hissed under his breath as Severus stepped closer to him. "I can do that just fine on my own!"

"Alright, Draco," Severus said gently. "No need to be uncivil."

"Go bother someone else then!"

Severus looked around to see the other Slytherin students staring at them, eyes wide in disbelief at how Draco had spoken to the Head of House.

"Keep practicing!" Severus snapped.

He moved towards the other side of the room where the attempts at casting a non-verbal spell was just as weak as the Slytherins. His eyes stopped at Potter and Weasley, nothing utterly interesting seemed to be happening there. He continued to walk among the students until he reached Granger and her opponent, Longbottom.

Longbottom was muttering curses under his breath and after several tries, Granger managed to repel his spell without even opening her mouth. Severus stood there, watching them for a moment before he moved to stand behind Longbottom. He could see the slight tremble in Longbottom's hand as he clutched his wand tighter.

"Go on, then," Severus said, crossing his arms. "Cast a spell at her, then."

"Yes, sir," said Longbottom in a timid voice.

The boy's neck was turning purple from the amount of pressure he was putting in himself, and normally Severus would have reveled in the boy's blatant failure. But this boy, shockingly enough, had been a part of the group of students who had taken on actual Death Eaters and survived.

"Longbottom," said Severus in a low voice. "Look at me."

The boy gave a shudder as he turned to face him. Severus could see the apprehensive looks Granger was shooting her friend, as though afraid he might be attacked without a warning.

"Do you know what a non-verbal spell is?" he asked calmly.

"S-spells you c-cast non-verbally, sir," Longbottom replied shakily.

"Longbottom," Severus said again, this time impatiently.

"Yes, s-sir?"

"I was informed that you were with Potter last year in the Department of Mysteries, is that correct?" he asked.

Longbottom glanced at Potter, who was watching them, before turning to Severus with a nod.

"And it was in there that you were forced to face off with multiple Death Eaters, including one notorious Bellatrix Lestrange-a torturer and murderer under the Dark Lord?"

The boy nodded again.

Severus pinched the bridge of his nose. "I have a hard time believing that," he said coldly, "especially when you stand here before me shaking in your boots in answering a simple question. Were you or were you not involved in the battle at the Ministry last year, Longbottom?"

"I was, sir," he replied, this time a little more forcefully.

"Then act like it. You managed to survive several Death Eaters yet quiver in fear when asked to cast a simple non-verbal spell? Do you think those Death Eaters, should you come into contact with them again, would wait until you gained some little confidence or bravery to fight them off? Would Bellatrix Lestrange be as accommodating as your friend Miss Granger here, would she wait whilst you prepared to shoot a spell at her?"

"No, sir," said Longbottom, shaking his head. "I'd be dead."

"You'd do well to remember it," Severus said grimly. "When you are fighting with the Death Eaters, remember that you are fighting with people who have been trained to use the Dark Arts. They will not hesitate to use the Unforgivable Curses, and mark my words boy, do they know how to use them. And that leaves you with the smallest of windows to survive. What is that?"

"Non-verbal spells, sir."

"Correct. You know what curses they are likely to use. The Cruciatus, if you know they are after you for information, or the Killing Curse. They do not care for banters or silly fights with jinxes and spells. You can't evade those curses forever, no matter how...fortunate...you may think yourself to be. The only way out is to Disarm them...do you think that is possible when you are muttering them out under your breath or screaming it out loud at them?"

He shook his head.

"Try again, Longbottom."

He watched as Longbottom straightened himself, his wand raised in Granger's direction. Even Granger seemed a little frightened now, her own wand pointed at Longbottom as she waited. Lo and behold, a purple flame shot out of the boy's wand and towards Granger. Severus contained himself, even half-hoping Granger would fail to evade it. She managed somewhat, however, to deflect the spell so it shot up at the ceiling of the room. Severus grunted before he started to walk again. He could see the students' eyes following him around as he did and ignored them the best he could. Seeing Longbottom, of all people, successfully casting a non-verbal spell was more likely to encourage the rest to concentrate on casting their own spells. This was, unfortunately, not the case for Weasley.

Severus watched as Weasley's face began to turn an ugly colour, his wand hand twitching as though he might internally combust. When several minutes passed and even Potter had lowered his guard, Severus pushed Weasley aside roughly.

"Pathetic, Weasley," he said crudely. "Here-let me show you-"

Severus' intentions had been clear; he had seen Potter's guard lower and wanted to catch the boy by surprise. His wand had raised quickly towards Potter, intending to challenge the boy. This did not go according to plan, however, as Potter yelled "Protego!" out loud. Severus felt a huge force push him back towards the desks arranged at the back of the room. He heard something snap and groaned slightly in pain. Remembering where he was, though, Severus quickly righted himself with a scowl. Everyone had turned to stare at him, and Severus felt slightly humiliated with their stares.

"Do you remember me telling you we are practicing non-verbal spells, Potter?"

Potter stared at him, unapologetic. "Yes."

"Yes, sir."

"There's no need to call me sir, Professor."

A few of the students had audibly gasped while others were sharing nasty grins. Severus stiffened, raising his wand at Potter again. He knew what he wanted to do the boy standing before him, knew how much pain he wanted to inflict on him. This insolent brat who thought he could get away with anything just because he was the one the Dark Lord failed to kill many years ago. This same brat who had been every bit of arrogant and loathsome as his father had been at his own age.

"Sir-" Granger said in the most quiet voice Severus had ever heard from her. "Maybe we should-"

"Silence, Miss Granger. This is my class, not yours."

He turned to face Potter. "Go on, then, Potter. Have another go, non-verbal this time. Then I'll have my turn."

Potter looked to Granger and the girl shook her head, telling him to step down. Weasley, who had been just a second ago grinning up to his ears, was now frowning at Potter.

"Go on!" Severus barked, startling Potter and several of the other students.

Potter pointed his wand at Severus, pure hate resonating off of Lily's eyes. "Expelliarmus!"

Severus easily deflected the spell with a harsh laugh. "Non-verbal, Potter! Again!"

"I'm trying!" Potter yelled back, his face turning red.

Another second passed, this time a feeble attempt earned a small blue light to echo from Potter's wand, dying out before it could even reach Severus.

"This, from the boy the world expects to defeat the Dark Lord?" Severus laughed coldly. "Surely you can do better, Potter."

This tactic was quick enough to rile him up. "Stupefy!"

This came as no challenge at all for Severus who deflected the spell rather lazily. "The poorest attempt yet. Why...even Longbottom's fared better than you, Potter."

"Let me go again, then."

"No," Severus said. "It's my turn. This'll be quite quick Potter, even faster than you are in that broom of yours. I expect at the rate things are going, the best chance you'll ever have at surviving this war is if you're on that broom, running for your life."

He did not mean to say these things, had not intended to humiliate Potter in this way. In the end, it came down to one thing: revenge. Severus wanted to exact revenge on James Potter for the years of humiliation Severus had suffered in his hands. But James Potter was dead, and the only thing closest to him was his son. This was very wrong of Severus, he knew that much, but couldn't bring it in himself to stop. It was, sadly, a deep-rooted hatred of sorts. 

But hadn't Julia Abbott asked him to give all the hatred he had to her? Hadn't she spent hours last night talking to him about leaving the memories and cruelty of James Potter and Sirius Black behind? So why was he here now, standing before this boy who was not in the slightest responsible for his father's actions, punishing Potter instead? Deep down, he knew Potter was more like his mother than he cared to think. His outbursts of anger, his impulsive nature; they were so frequently present in Lily all of the years Severus had known her. But he had turned this fact away, pushing it deep down so he never should have to confront the fact that Harry Potter was exactly like Lily Potter.

"Professor Snape!"

Severus turned sharply to see Minerva planted at the entrance of the classroom, her lips twitching from anger. Severus stuffed his wand back in his pocket and turned to regard the class.

"You will all continue to practice non-verbal spells, until you have mastered it well. Should you fail to demonstrate this skill in the upcoming class, you will regret it. Is that understood?"

When the entire class had murmured a sorrowful "Yes, sir", he waved his hand in dismissal. 

"And you, Potter," he called out with his back to the boy, "Detention, Saturday night, my office. I do not take cheek from anyone, Potter...not even the 'Chosen One'."

"It's absolutely unacceptable!"

Severus was sat opposite the Headmaster, scowling as Minerva prattled on about his unprofessional behavior in the classroom.

"You put us in charge of these children's safety, did you not, Albus? Was threatening to jinx them a responsibility assigned to the teachers as well?"

"I wasn't threatening him, Minerva," Severus said with a sigh.

"Oh, you weren't all right. Had I not interrupted, you would have seen through with it. What were you thinking-challenging a boy like that-"

"Like what, exactly? Am I to assume that Potter is now 'untouchable' because of what the newspapers are calling him?"

"And what would that be?" Dumbledore asked, amused.

"The Chosen One!" Severus retorted. "They think he's been chosen to kill the Dark Lord!"

"That's beside the point!" Minerva yelled. "After what he's been through in the past year...you couldn't have asked anyone else to be your little test subject?"

"I did," Severus said calmly. "You only happened to see me with Potter."

"Oh, don't lie, Severus. I was watching the whole time. You only intervened when it was Potter and Weasley."

Severus turned to gawk at her. "You were watching me?" he asked furiously. "Thought I'd finally give in to the Dark Arts and murder the children if left unsupervised, did you?"

Minerva's mouth turned into a large 'O', her face turning pale. She stomped towards him, her arms on her hips as she stopped before him.

"The only reason I was watching you, Severus, was because I wanted to see you teach your first Defense class. You'd been after the subject for so long...and I was so proud...I'd stopped by to congratulate you after the class when I saw what happened."

"Oh," Severus said, looking down at the ground as he felt a little hot all of a sudden.

"You're not going to say anything?" she asked Dumbledore.

"I believe all has been said, Minerva," the Headmaster said coolly. 

Minerva wagged a finger at Dumbledore. "You're enabling him!" she said in a rather cross tone. "The next time I'm not there and" he manages to attack another student-you mark my words, Dumbledore-"

The woman continued to nag as she left the Headmaster's office, cursing both men as she left. When the door closed shut, Dumbledore sighed.

"Why, Severus?" was all he asked.

"I wasn't going to do it, you know," Severus said indignantly. "I wouldn't attack him like that, and especially not in front of all those students. I wanted to but I stopped myself."

"Am I supposed to be convinced by that?" Dumbledore asked.

"I...I'm getting help," he said, looking at anything but Dumbledore's eyes. "That Healer woman...Abbott...she's been helping me with...she's been helping me. Tells me I can get better."

"I am glad to hear that, Severus," said Dumbledore with a genuine smile. "You'll see...in no time, that Boggart poison won't be a problem at all."

Severus nodded, though he knew how impossible that was. "If there is nothing else?"

"You gave the boy detention?"

"He deserves that, at least," Severus snapped. "He was being disrespectful to me. On purpose."

Dumbledore sighed again. "Very well," he said. "But I'd like you to push it to next Saturday instead."

"Why?"

"I have something I'd like to discuss with him."

"In regards to what?"

Dumbledore smiled faintly. "That is between me and him."

"Right," Severus scoffed. 

"So may I?"

"What?"

"Reschedule the detention."

Severus paused. "Fine."

"Thank you, Severus," said Dumbledore. "That'll be all."

"Does he know, Dumbledore?"

"I'm sorry, Severus?"

"Potter," he replied. "Does he know about" - he motioned to Dumbledore's blackened hand-"the time you've got left?"

Dumbledore shook his head. "I'm afraid you're the only person who knows, and who will ever know about it, I suspect."

"I'm touched," Severus said sarcastically, standing up. "I'll be on my way."

Remembering something, he turned back to the Headmaster. "Dumbledore?"

The man did not say anything, only nodded his head for Severus to continue.

"That day after Black's prank on me...you had me suspended for a month-which I'd had to spend at home."

There was a long moment before Dumbledore replied.

"What are you asking me, Severus?"

"Was it intended to be a punishment for me? Or did you do it out of pity?"

"I see no reason why this is relevant now."

Severus frowned, clenching his fist. "It is to me. Why?"

"Everything I do, Severus, is for a reason. If I sent you home for a month to live with your ill mother, it was done so for a very good reason. You must have trust in that, at least."

"So it was out of pity," Severus said shakily. "You took one look at her and thought I ought to be with her a month just in case she drops dead. A consolation prize for me, given you set that murderer loose."

"Severus-"

"You suspended me! You made me look like a fool-in front of everyone! As though-as though I was the one that done something wrong!"

"I admit, Severus, I was not as wise back then as I am now. I made decisions, ones that were often driven by my heart rather than my mind-"

"You protected them!" Severus exclaimed. "The Potters and the Blacks-they came to you, didn't they? They asked you to keep their children safe, didn't they? And you told them you would-"

"That is not what happened, Severus. I was simply honoring my promise-"

"-what promise was so important that you'd let a murderer walk past innocent?"

"I promised Remus Lupin's parents that no harm shall befall their son should he choose to enroll at Hogwarts," Dumbledore replied. "I did everything I could to protect that boy...I had never imagined he would tell his friends...something like that...it was a great risk to him...but he took it anyway. I would have easily expelled Sirius Black for what he had tried to do to you...but Mrs. Potter had begged me to give him a chance. She had told me how his mother treated him back home, the emotional torture was too much for a young boy like that to bear. She told me she would take him in...raise him alongside her own son...and, forgive me, my feelings got in the way of my judgement."

"And you let him get away," Severus said bitterly.

"Sirius Black may have been, at one time, a troubled boy. But he grew up to go against evil and he stood for everything I did. Had I not given him that chance, those many years ago, he would not have died fighting to save Harry."

"You were unfair. Your judgement was one-sided. You'll admit that, at least?"

Dumbledore nodded at him sadly. "I was a fool...a fool to think I could save everyone. I didn't realize my judgement had cost you so much, Severus. And I apologize."

Severus blinked. "You admit that you harbored a criminal? An almost-murderer?"

The Headmaster nodded again.

"If you had the chance, would you have done it differently?"

"I would have, certainly. But the only thing I would change is how it affected you, Severus...if I'd known just how much help you'd needed back then..."

Severus snorted. "You knew," he said. "All of you knew...you just chose not to do anything. But I don't care about any of that, Dumbledore. None of it matters now. I'm leaving it behind. All of it. I just hope its enough to make a difference."

Dumbledore had turned teary-eyed. "Severus..."

"I'm sick of this life, Headmaster. Sick of waking up terrified that someone had tried to kill me in my sleep. Sick of looking into Potter's eyes and seeing his mother, looking at his face and seeing his father. I'm sick of waiting to be summoned by the Dark Lord, wondering if that would be the last night of my life. I'm sick of all of it."

Dumbledore chose not to say anything.

"And don't give me any of that nonsense about my past shaping me to be who I am because I despise it. I despise myself. My existence. My very being. I wished I'd died all those years ago-I could've spared everyone the pain I've caused in my wake. This is how I feel and I won't let you convince me otherwise. I can hate myself and still be of service to you. I can be utterly despicable to Potter and still protect him, keep him safe. This is who I am."

"Your hatred does not determine who you truly are, Severus," Dumbledore said kindly. "It is the love for others that makes you...well, you."

"I have no love for anyone," he replied grimly.

"So you say," said Dumbledore, his blue eyes twinkling. "Give my best to Narcissa Malfoy, won't you, Severus?"

Those words left Severus rather stricken, whom rather than argue chose instead to leave the Headmaster - all the while leaving softly-uttered curses scattered throughout the halls of Hogwarts and into his next classroom.

Chapter Text

“You really shouldn’t have done that, Harry,” Hermione exclaimed as the whole class made it out of the room, with only the faint yelling of Minerva McGonagall behind them.

”You can’t be serious, Hermione,” Ron jutted in with an expression of pure disbelief. “If you hadn’t noticed-Snape was about to attack Harry-“

”He wouldn’t have! He’s a Professor-he knows he isn’t allowed to harm a student like that.”

Ron snorted loudly, raising his fingers to count off of them. “Oh, let’s see shall we? Quirrell tried to off Harry multiple times, Lockhart nearly Obliviated both of us, Lupin could’ve turned all of us into werewolves and then there was that Death Eater running around teaching us about Unforgivable Curses! And you know how horrible Umbridge was-“

”Fine!” she snapped, much to Harry’s amusement. “He shouldn’t have challenged you like he did…that was unfair of him. But Harry…mouthing off like you did isn’t going to fix anything-“

”I’m tired of it, alright, Hermione? I’ve saved his arse multiple times this year and the last and he still goes round trying to humiliate me for no reason!” Harry said, quite exasperated now. He could not understand why Hermione kept defending Snape as she did, especially when he took every opportunity he had to either ignore or insult her in class. Before he could speak his mind, though, a loud bark of laughter interrupted them.

”Are we talking about what happened with Snape?” asked Seamus with a wide grin. Dean appeared right after, still in mid-laughter.

”Blimey, did you lot see Snape’s face? I thought he was about to do you in right there, Harry!”

Ron and Harry exchanged small smirks as Hermione shook her head in disapproval. It was clear she still thought Harry was partially wrong for defending himself.

”But he seems a little different this year, doesn’t he?” Dean continued with a slight frown.

”It’s his hair-did you see what he’s done to it?” 

This time, they all turned to see Lavender Brown and Parvati Patil walking closely behind them, hands swinging by their sides and a slight blush across their faces.

”It’s really short, isn’t it? But it isn’t too awful-even makes him look sort of young, I suppose,” Lavender continued, a strange tone of fascination in her voice that made the boys feel rather disturbed by.

Dean pulled a face. “I mean, yeah, if you’re comparing him to the likes of Binns or McGonagall.”

”How old do you think he really is?” asked Parvati now.

”Who cares?” Ron spat in disgust. “His age doesn’t change the fact that he’s a rotten prick-“

”Yeah,” said Harry, joining in. “And I don’t know what Dumbledore was thinking either-letting him have the DADA position. Did you hear the way he was going on about the Dark Arts?”

“Well, I thought he sounded quite a bit like you, actually,” Hermione replied softly, turning her head slightly to regard him.

”What?”

”Last year-during our D.A. meeting-you said that when we’re up against the Dark Arts, that it really comes down to being brave and quick-thinking-and that’s precisely what Snape was saying too, don’t you think?”

Harry was too stunned that Hermione remembered anything that he’d said to argue. He heard heavy shuffling of footsteps and heard Seamus throw out a greeting for Neville.

”She’s right, you know,” he was saying. “All that stuff about having your nerves with you when you’re facing something Dark…I sort of got the feeling Snape was trying to warn us or something.”

“I couldn’t understand a word he was saying,” Ron muttered with a light yawn. “And the way he kept prancing around the room like an absolute idiot!”

Lavender suddenly burst into a fit of laughter as though Ron had just made the funniest joke ever. The others gave her an odd glance but Ron looked somewhat pleased that she’d enjoyed his mockery of Snape’s class. Hermione seemed to notice this, frowned and began to pick up her pace.

“I really think he’s better this time round,” said Neville in a really quiet voice as they walked towards the Great Hall.

”Better?” asked Seamus. “Better how?”

”He’s stopped yelling, hasn’t he? He seems like he really does want to teach us something this time.”

”He looked a bit ill, too, now that I think about it,” Dean added. “D’you think he’s sick?”

At this, Harry turned to look at Ron and Hermione as if wondering if they’d mention what happened over at the Weasleys’ during the break. None of them said a word, however, and Harry was slightly grateful. He shuddered to think what Snape would do if the students found out how he’d nearly died in the summer.

”He’s not the only one,” said Parvati this time. “Dumbledore doesn’t look too well, either.”

”Dumbledore?” Harry asked with a frown.

”Haven’t you lot noticed his hand? Something’s wrong with him…”

”Dumbledore’s fine,” Harry replied assuringly. “He’s Dumbledore…he has to be.”

Harry had meant for his words to come out as reassuring but as it echoed throughout the hallway, he realised it sounded much more as though he were trying to convince himself of the matter. His tone alerted the others not to press into the matter, though he could tell they wanted to.

With no other topic left to breach, Harry and his friends carried on walking in silence until they reached the Great Hall. As the others began to separate into pairs, Harry heard someone call out his name and turned to see Jack Sloper running towards him, a piece of paper in his hand.

”I have a message,” Sloper said, panting lightly. “From Professor Dumbledore.”

Draco was sat in the large armchair in the Slytherin common room, overlooking the dwindling flames of the fireplace. His friends had tried to get him to go out to the castle grounds during their free period but he had refused.

He was certain that even Pansy, the girl he was quite sure head-over-heels in love with him, was tiring of him already. He didn’t care; the lesser the people that cared about him, the easier it would be to leave them behind when the time came. His friends didn’t matter anymore, not when it was his family whose lives were at stake now.

Draco thought often of his mother first, and then only his father. His mother loved him, truly loved him enough to want to protect him from all of this. His father was different. Lucius Malfoy had lost everything, the only thing he had left to offer the Dark Lord was his only son and heir. There was a small part of Draco that resented his father for this, that it was him and his mother whom should have to pay for the older Malfoy’s mistakes.

As he wallowed in these terrible memories, the door to the common room flung open and who should step in but the Head of House himself, Severus Snape. Bitterness filled the inside of Draco’s mouth as Snape walked towards him, a frown permanently etched onto his face.

”Draco,” said Snape in his usual silky voice.

Draco did not bother to stand, nor did he return the man’s greeting.

”You were out of turn today,” Snape continued, one arm coming to rest on the top of Draco’s chair. “Had anyone else spoken to me as you did, they would be on the train headed home by now.”

Draco snorted. He knew what this was; Snape was trying to frighten him with empty threats. Aunt Bellatrix had already warned him to expect this, and she had been right.

”Did you hear what I said?” Snape pressed on.

”Yeah, I heard you,” Draco replied rather spitefully.

This was too much for Snape who lunged towards Draco, lifting him up by the collar to look him in the eyes. Draco quickly looked away, knowing what it was Snape intended to do.

”You dare speak to me in this way?” he hissed.

”Expel me then,” Draco snapped angrily. “Send me home. And when he asks me why I failed, it’s your name I’m giving him.”

”Keep your voice down!” Snape whispered, loosening his grip on Draco. “Do you want everyone to know what you are?”

”What I am is what you are,” Draco said through gritted teeth. “Now, if there’s nothing else, Professor-“

”Argus Filch tells me you tried to bribe him the other day, is that true? He tells me you offered him fifty Galleons in exchange for allowing your Owl posts to come through without being checked by security.”

Draco paled slightly. It had been a calculated risk, involving Filch in his plan-that much he had known- but all this did was tell him that he had to do this on his own, with no help from anyone.

”What are you trying to do, Draco? What are you planning to bring through the post?”

”It’s none of your concern-“

”It will be if you get caught by the Aurors! What d’you think they’d do if they discover you were trying to bring in something illegal into the school, Draco? And after what happened to your father-“

”-DON’T TALK ABOUT MY FATHER!”

Snape smiled wryly.

”Do you think they’d sympathise with your family after your father’s involvement with the Dark Lord? Do you think they’ll hesitate to send you off to Azkaban? There goes the poor Malfoy boy, they’ll say, the same filth as his father was-“

Draco had not expected to react so strongly to Snape’s insult. He had staggered forward, shoving Snape so hard the man lost his balance. For a second, Snape stared at Draco, a sudden look of confusion and shock- and then his Professor was on the floor, convulsing.

There was nothing else to do. Draco fell to his knees and searched Snape’s eyes for a sign. He realised a moment later that it wasn’t his fault that Snape was writhing on the ground.

”P-Professor-what-?” he asked, helpless.

But Snape wasn’t looking at him anymore. His eyes rolled to the back of his head, his hand outstretched as if trying to reach for someone. Draco gripped Snape’s hand and squeezes the man’s fingers hard, hoping it would relieve the man of the pain he was in.

”Tell me what to do-“ he cried. “I’ll-I’ll get Madam Pom-Pomfrey-“

”Don’t,” Snape managed through gasps. “Just-wait-“

Draco did as he was told. He held the older man’s hand and watched as he jerked uncontrollably against the floor for several minutes. And then, when his movement finally subsided into a slight tremble, Draco let go of his Professor.

Snape’s eyes fluttered shut and he lay there so still that Draco feared he was dead. A moment later, Draco’s grey eyes met with a pair of black ones.

”Draco,” said Snape softly.

Draco nodded, sighing in relief. “What-what happened?”

“When you fail the Dark Lord,” Snape whispered, “there is a price you have to pay. And when you’ve paid for too long…”

Draco swallowed, watching Snape intently as the man slowly sat up.

”I want to help you, to save you from this, Draco,” said Snape. “You are but a child…you cannot carry out this mission on your own like you have been trying to. You will only end up like me.”

”I’m not like you,” Draco said, baring his teeth. “I know better.”

Snape smiled grimly as he got to his feet now, brushing at his crumpled clothes. “I thought I did too. I was but a few years older when I was given the same mission, and I too was confident I’d succeed. But I was also afraid. I feared for my life, every second that passed I thought would be my last. But I got out of it…and I can help you do the same-“

”I don’t want to get out of it!” Draco hissed, jumping to his feet. He was only a few inches shorter than Snape and felt no more fear or respect for the man, only hatred.

”You’re jealous-jealous that he’s given my this chance to save me and my family. You had your chance and you failed. Now let me-“

”Let you-? Do you even understand what is at stake here? Are you telling me you truly are prepared to take the life of another?”

”Are you?” Draco asked with a sneer. “Aunt Bella’s told me about you. You’re only a Death Eater by name-all you ever do is sit around and mock others for their missed opportunities! Tell me, sir, are you prepared to kill someone?”

Draco revelled in Snape’s whitened face, knowing he had won this round. With Snape seething in silence, Draco turned towards the direction of the dorms. 

Chapter Text

Colors were everywhere. They swished and moved through the open air like waves, except they did not clash together and merge to become one like they always did. These waves moved together but separately, each following an invisible line that connected at various points, filling the minute silence with an air of awe and wonder. There was yellow and blue and green, but brightest of all was the red that began to dissolve to form clouds and grass and finally autumn leaves. As they finally gave way to a final picture, it was of a near-empty playground with one towering swing set surrounded by tall trees and thick bushes. 

The swing was relatively new, only chipped at meaningless places where children often kicked and swung at while they were flying. There were five people there. The four were clearly a family – parents and their two children spending their afternoon in the quiet playground. The two children were rather fair and took after each of their parent. The older of the two, maybe seven or eight years old, had dark hair like her father. She was stiff and walked in a fashion as though she were the most superior person in the world.

The younger child was smaller and a red-head just like her  mother. This girl was wilder than her sister, flitting through the playground delightfully. She picked up the fallen leaves over the ground as much as her tiny arms could hold, raised it above her head before letting it fall over her. She squealed in delight, her reaction irking her older sister as she watched from the swing she sat on, a firm frown of disapproval over her sister’s childishness.

When it seemed clear her parents would not intervene, the girl kicked her heels to stop the swing.

"Mummy, will you tell Lily to stop?" she cried out. "And please-please, push me!"

Her mother smiled kindly and nodded her head. "Alright, Petunia, I'll give you a push."

The girl, Petunia, stomped her foot this time. "Tell her to stop, Mummy! She's ruining her dress!"

"Lily," called the girl's father now in a gentle voice. "Lily, why don't you put those leaves down and come here?"

Lily immediately raced towards her father. When she was close enough, she leapt into his arms and he caught her. They spun and laughed, much to Petunia's dismay. He lifted Lily back to the empty swing next to her and announced that  he’d like to see who would fly further today. This made both children ecstatic; Petunia held the swing so her sister could get onto it. Once she made it safely on, their parents began to push them forward.

"Higher, Daddy!"

"Higher, Mummy!"

Their parents seemed reluctant but pushed anyway. After a while, they stopped and let the girls do it on their own. They were more than happy to, convinced that they could kick and swing much better without their parents there behind them. And so they did, though something magical happened with Lily a moment later. While Petunia's swing began to dwindle in both energy and distance, Lily's only carried her higher - impossibly higher even. She laughed as the wind pushed at her hair, messing it up so she couldn't see anything.

"Mummy! Mummy, look!" Lily yelled, wanting her parents to see.

Her parents turned round to see their daughter standing on the swing while it flew back and forth at an impossible length, just a little more and it would send her crashing on the ground. The girls' parents quickly rushed over to her, their expressions quite pale. Lily's father managed to grasp hold of Lily's arm and tugged so she fell backwards into his arms, all the while giggling and laughing. Her mother grabbed Petunia away from her swing before Lily's could come crashing into her.

"That was fun!" said Lily as her father set her back on the ground. "Let's do it again!"

As she turned, she realized her parents and sister weren't paying any attention to her. She followed their gaze to Lily's swing, where it was still pushing itself back and forth as though Lily had never left it. Without another word, Lily and Petunia's parents seized their little hands and marched away from the playground, down the hill and back home - where it was safe.

About several minutes later, once they were out of sight, a small boy – the only person left in the park now- appeared out of a bush. He was about Lily's age, though smaller. He appeared to be covered in grass and dirt, as if he'd crawled and rolled around in it. His hair was long and poorly-cut, framing his face like curtains. The boy, presumably young Severus Snape, stood in front of the swing that was still rocking, his expression one of utmost curiosity. He moved towards it, his gaze almost piercing the swing. A second later, the swing stopped short as though frozen by an invisible hand. It floated mid-air for a moment before finally coming to a stop.

He smiled.

The playground was nearly empty except for two girls-Lily and Petunia-and the boy who secretly watched them from behind a clump of bushes. They appeared to be a little older now; Petunia perhaps twelve while Lily and Severus around nine or ten years old. Although older, their faces had not changed a bit. Severus, however, was a little taller than before. He had to bend slightly to remain hidden behind the bush. Aside from his overlong hair, his clothes were odd and mismatched; he wore something that resembled a woman's smock tucked into jeans that stopped just a little below his knees. And on top of these ridiculous clothes, he had on a coat that was much too big and frayed for him. From his appearance alone, it was obvious why he was yet to approach the sisters.

He watched rather greedily as Lily began to swing higher and faster than her sister.

"Lily, don't do it!" Petunia shrieked.

But Lily had let go of the swing at the very height of its arc and flown into the air, quite literally flown, launched herself skyward with a great shout of laughter, and instead of crumpling on the playground asphalt, she soared like a trapeze artist through the air, staying up far too long, landing far too lightly.

“Mummy told you not to!”

Petunia stopped her swing by dragging the heels of her sandals on the ground, making a crunching, grinding sound, then leapt up, hands on hips.

“Mummy said you weren’t allowed, Lily!”

“But I’m fine,” said Lily, still giggling.“Tuney, look at this. Watch what I can do.”

Petunia glanced around. The playground was deserted apart from themselves and, though the girls did not know it, Severus. Lily had picked up a fallen flower from the bush behind which Severus lurked. Petunia advanced, evidently torn between curiosity and disapproval. Lily waited until Petunia was near enough to have a clear view, then held out her palm. The flower sat there, opening and closing its petals, like some bizarre, many-lipped oyster.

“Stop it!” shrieked Petunia.

“It’s not hurting you,” said Lily, but she closed her hand on the blossom and threw it back to the ground.

“It’s not right,” said Petunia, but her eyes had followed the flower’s flight to the ground and lingered upon it. “How do you do it?” she added, and there was definite longing in her voice.

“It’s obvious, isn’t it?”

Severus could no longer contain himself, but had jumped out from behind the bushes. Petunia shrieked and ran backward toward the swings, but Lily, though clearly startled, remained where she was. Severus seemed to regret his appearance. A dull flush of color mounted the sallow cheeks as he looked at Lily.

“What’s obvious?” asked Lily.

Severus had an air of nervous excitement. With a glance at the distant Petunia, now hovering beside the swings, he lowered his voice and said, “I know what you are.”

“What do you mean?”

“You’re...you’re a witch,” whispered Severus, smiling softly.

Lily looked affronted. “That’s not a very nice thing to say to somebody!”

She turned, nose in the air, and marched off toward her sister.

“No!” said Severus. His cheeks were flushed and expression almost frightened that he had somehow pushed this lovely girl away from him.

The sisters considered him, united in disapproval, both holding on to one of the swing poles, as though it was the safe place in tag.

“You are,” said Severus to Lily. “You are a witch. I’ve been watching you for a while. But there’s nothing wrong with that. My mum’s one, and I’m a wizard.”

Petunia’s laugh was like cold water.

“Wizard!” she shrieked, her courage returned now that she had recovered from the shock of his unexpected appearance. “I know who you are. You’re that Snape boy! They live down Spinner’s End by the river,” she told Lily, and it was evident from her tone that she considered the address a poor recommendation. “Why have you been spying on us?”

“Haven’t been spying,” said Severus, hot and uncomfortable and dirty-haired in the bright sunlight. “Wouldn’t spy on you, anyway,” he added spitefully, “you’re a Muggle.”

Though Petunia evidently did not understand the word, she could hardly mistake the tone.

“Lily, come on, we’re leaving!” she said shrilly.

Lily obeyed her sister at once, glaring at Severus as she left. He stood watching them as they marched through the playground gate and vanished from his view. He stared at them, his eyes wide and confused for a moment as he digested what had happened. And then he kicked at the ground in anger and bitterness before settling onto the grass.

This time, Severus and Lily sat facing each other, surrounded by thickets of trees around them. They were talking but it seemed to take a while before their voices could be properly heard.

"Petunia says there isn’t a Hogwarts. It is real, isn’t it?” Lily asked, her face one of concern.

“It’s real for us,” said Severus. “Not for her. But we’ll get the letter, you and me.”

“Really?” whispered Lily.

“Definitely,” said Severus, and even with his poorly cut hair and his odd clothes, he struck an oddly impressive figure sprawled in front of her, brimful of confidence in his destiny.

“And will it really come by owl?” Lily whispered.

“Normally,” said Severus.

“But you’re Muggle-born, so someone from the school will have to come and explain to your parents.”

“Does it make a difference, being Muggle-born?”

Severus hesitated. His black eyes, eager in the greenish gloom, moved over the pale face, the dark red hair. “No,” he said. “It doesn’t make any difference.”

“Good,” said Lily, relaxing.

It was clear that she had been worrying.

“You’ve got loads of magic,” said Severus. “I saw that. All the time I was watching you...”

His voice trailed away; she was not listening, but had stretched out on the leafy ground and was looking up at the canopy of leaves overhead. He watched her as greedily as he had watched her in the playground.

“How are things at your house?” Lily asked.

A little crease appeared between his eyes.

“Fine,” he said. “They’re not arguing anymore?”

“Oh yes, they’re arguing,” said Severus. He picked up a fistful of leaves and began tearing them apart, apparently unaware of what he was doing. “But it won’t be that long and I’ll be gone.”

“Doesn’t your dad like magic?”

“He doesn’t like anything, much,” said Severus.

"Is that why he got upset when I came to visit last week? Because he knows I'm magic too?"

Severus frowned, shaking his head. "No, no...he's just-he-"

He looked up to see Lily staring at him rather worriedly. "I really am sorry, Severus. I didn't mean for you to get in trouble...I just thought it'd be fun if I came to see you, that's all."

He nodded rather seriously. "It's alright," he said. "He's always mad about everything, anyway. Just...promise me you won't try to come round there again. It isn't... (he hesitated) safe."

Her eyes widened as she nodded. A sudden silence filled the air between them.

“Severus?”

A little smile twisted Snape’s mouth when she said his name.

“Yeah?”

“Tell me about the dementors again.”

"Aren't the dragons dangerous, though?" Lily asked, peering sideways at Severus. They were both seated on the swing, though it hardly moved. There was rust on the swings now and both children looked relatively bigger now.

"They are," he said seriously. "But that's why we've got special trainers for them. Some of these dragons are bred in captivity - so I suppose that makes it easier for the dragon-keepers to control them."

"Bred in captivity?" she asked with a frown.

Severus nodded. "The mother dragons lay their eggs and they transport them to a secure location - probably a large cave in the mountains. And then they raise them there."

Lily was quiet for a moment. And then, "Well, that doesn't seem too fair, does it?"

"What doesn't?" he asked.

"The baby dragons! They’re separated from their mothers and never see them again - I think that's pretty awful. I don't think I'd like it very much if someone wheeled me off to the mountains as a baby so they could train me and stuff-and all the while keeping me away from my mum."

Severus let out a small laugh but it was evident Lily was rather worked up about this.

"You'd be alright then, would you?" she asked, her green eyes piercing his now. "If someone took you far away from your family and made you do something you didn't like?"

"I think I'd thank them for it," Severus muttered, not catching the slight hint of concern on the young Lily's face. "Anywhere would be better than where I am right now."

A small tinge of understanding passed through her face and Lily softened. "But then you wouldn't get to meet me anymore and tell me all about these wonderful things you seem to know a lot."

At this, he brightened up. "Then I'll take you with me. Once we're at Hogwarts, you and me, we can go to the library and read about everything so you'll know just as much as I do!"

"And more," she said, giggling.

"And more," he repeated, grinning.

Severus twisted the swing as he sat and let it unwind, looking relieved that the tension had lessened somewhat.

"I wonder how big the library is," Lily said dreamily as she kicked her heels and began to swing as high as she could.

The playground finally shifted and dissolved into a rather large room next. There were colorful drawings pasted onto the wall of various creatures from Dementors to Goblins to Dragons surrounding almost every corner of the room. In the center of it was a small photograph with random leaves pasted around it. The picture was of young Lily and Severus at the playground; she had her arm looped around him, forcing him to bend down a little so their heights matched. In the middle of the room, Lily lay flat on her back, staring up at the ceiling when the door threw open and Severus came in rather hurriedly.

Lily sat up, startled by his alarmed expression.

"What's the matter-didn't you find the bathroom?" she asked.

"I found something better," he replied, slumping down beside her. He raised his shirt to reveal a letter tucked into his trousers and pulled at it as Lily watched, amused.

"It's from Dumbledore," said Severus, waving the letter about.

"Dumbledore?" Lily exclaimed excitedly. 'What's it about? Oh, he's not written to say I can't go to Hogwarts, has he?"

"No-" said Severus, his face flushed. "It's not addressed to you. Or me."

Lily cocked her head to the side, confused by this. "Then who-?"

"Petunia!" Severus yelled. "I found this in her room-it's written to her!"

Lily laughed, obviously thinking it was a joke before realizing that it wasn't.

"Dear Miss Petunia Dursley," said Severus in a rather deep voice, "thank you very much for your letter indeed. As much as it would delight me to send you an invitation to Hogwarts, I must unfortunately tell you that it falls out of my purview. You see, wizards and witches are chosen from a rather young age and it often goes by their abilities to perform magic by then. Your sister, Lily Evans, demonstrated this capability since the bright age of four - hence her selection to continue her education with us here at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Although I am unable to offer you the same, please know that you have my sincerest apologies and best at heart. As a token of gratitude for writing to me, here are a few delectable chocolates-"

"She got chocolates?"

"That's not the point!" he cried out. "How on earth was she able to reach Dumbledore? Dumbledore- as in the Headmaster of Hogwarts? You do realize what this means, don't you?"

"What?"

"There has to be witches and wizards working here in the Muggle world," he said.

"You mean...undercover? Like spies?" Lily asked, crashing back onto the floor, a dreamy expression on her face. "That's sort of wicked, isn't it?"

"Being a spy?" he asked in a incredulous tone.

She nodded. "I think it'd be wonderful to be one. Living in danger constantly, not knowing who's watching or waiting to attack-"

"I'd rather take a quiet life," he said, going through the letter again.

"I think you'd make a good one."

He scowled. "Why?"

"How'd you manage to get that?" she asked, pointing at the letter.

He scowled, deeper this time. "I was on my way and the door was open and-"

"-and happened to see the letter," she teased. "You like to snoop. You'd make a good spy."

He stared at her before throwing her a wide grin. "I suppose I would."

Severus and Lily were at Hogwarts, donning the school uniform rather proudly as they stood amongst their peers. One by one, they left their spots when their names were called by Minerva McGonagall to be sorted into their respective Houses. For a brief moment, Lily's fingers found Severus' hand and intertwined around them. He did not look at her, perhaps out of fear that she could sense his own nervousness if he did, but he squeezed lightly to reassure her.

"Evans, Lily!"

Lily's legs trembled as she walked up to the rickety stool. As McGonagall placed the Sorting Hat upon her head, it was barely a second before the word, "Gryffindor!" rang out. She hurried towards the cheering Gryffindors, but not before sparing Severus another glance. When she did, she had a rather sad-looking smile on her face. Severus groaned slightly as he watched her make her way towards the Gryffindor table, looking lost and hopeless.

"Snape, Severus!"

All thoughts left his head as he sat down; the hat had barely grazed his hair before the word "Slytherin!" rang throughout the air. He managed a smile and moved to the other end of the room, away from Lily.

The sky was dark, stars barely visible and the castle in total darkness. Yet, the silhouette of two children contrasted against the dim moonlight as they made their way towards the Great Lake. Lily and Severus settled under a large beech tree overlooking the lake, panting slightly at how fast they'd run. They took a moment to catch their breath and then upon seeing each other's faces, burst into a short fit of laughter. When it seemed they had enough, they leaned against the bark of the tree and allowed themselves a minute of silence.

Lily was the one to break it first. "How was dinner?" she asked.

"Uneventful, I suppose. You?"

"I thought the pudding was great," she replied with a shrug. "Though it doesn't come close to mum's. I can't wait for Christmas-another two weeks and we'll be home, eating at mum and dad's."

They were quiet again. In the pale night light, Severus' face was rather blurred but one could not mistake the large purple bruise around his eyes.

"You'll come too, won't you?" Lily asked.

Severus looked up at her. "Where?"

"Christmas," she said, shaking her head. "You've always come round for dinner on Christmas."

"Oh," was all he said.

"Severus?"

He smiled. "Yeah?"

"Are you going to tell me what happened to your eye?"

The smile vanished instantly. "What d'you want to know for?"

His question seemed to anger her as she moved closer towards him, her face rather annoyed now. "Because you're my friend. And you're hurt. And I want to know why."

"I fell," he said simply.

"Liar," she said, crossing her arms. "Who was it?"

Severus stared at her, surprised. "No one. I fell."

"Was it Potter? And that stupid Sirius Black? I'm going to tear their ears off if-"

"It wasn't them," he whispered softly. "It was a couple of older kids from my House."

"And why'd they do it?"

He shook his head. "Because they could is my guess."

She slapped his knees and he cursed under his breath. "You've got to tell Slughorn."

"No."

"No?"

"No, Lily, I'm not running to Slughorn for something as silly as this. I'm fine. I've had worse."

"That's not an excuse! Are they the same boys that pushed you into the lake the other day?"

"No, that was Potter and Black. These were the boys that stole my books and wouldn't give them to me until I did their homework for them."

Lily looked a little impressed. "You did their homework? Was it difficult, do you think?"

"Hardly," he replied. "Though, remind me not to take Ancient Runes as a subject. And I'm not just saying that because I had a wand pushed against my back and notes taken by a bunch of apes at the zoo. No-even the apes would've done a better job than them."

At this, Lily snapped out of her admiration for Severus and nudged at him again. "Listen, you've got to tell Slughorn-or Dumbledore-you have to tell someone. You're a first year and they're making your life here miserable! You need to get them to stop!"

"They won't!" he snapped back, irritated.

"Why not? You have to do something to make them stop-"

"-I know what I have to do to make them stop!"

"Then do that!"

"I can't!"

"Why not?"

"Because," he yelled in frustration now. "Because that's impossible."

She stopped, noticing his hesitant expression. "What do you have to do to make them stop bullying you, Severus?"

He took a deep breath and sighed. "It's nothing."

Lily poked him hard in the ribs. "Tell me. You know I won't stop-"

"I can't be friends with you anymore."

She blinked. "What?"

Severus shook his head. "That's what I have to do. Those boys...they push me around because I'm-I'm friends with you. And they don't like that."

There was a terrible silence now as Lily took in what he had said. Severus was biting his lip, already regretting the words that had left his mouth.

"Lily, just forget about it, alright? Look, let's just go-I'll be fine-"

"Why don't they like that I'm friends with you?"

He shook his head again. "I don't know."

"Liar," she said again, this time full of anger and spite. "It's because I'm Muggleborn, isn't it? You told me it didn't make a difference-"

"-it doesn't."

"To you," she said. "But to others...like those boys, it does, doesn't it?"

"Who cares?" he exclaimed, pulling at his hair in desperation. "Who cares if they don't? It's their loss, isn't it?"

She held back her tears, nodding though unconvinced.

"Severus?"

"Yeah?"

"We're friends, aren't we?"

"Best friends."

"For always?"

"And more."

"Even if those boys push you around and make you do their homework?"

"I'd take their N.E.W.T.s if I have to."

She laughed, wiping at her face. "You have to get them to stop, Severus. I mean it."

He nodded, smiling. "I told Lucius - the Slytherin prefect - about them. He's one year older than them and reckons they'd tuck their tails behind them and flee if he ever spoke to them about what they're doing to me."

"Then why doesn't he?"

"Because I told him not to. Don't worry, Lily, just you wait and see. I'll get them to stop on my own.”

Severus now sat in the corner of Moaning Myrtle’s bathroom. He was alone, a book spread across his knees as he peered through the pages. His wand was between his fingers, spinning it around like a drummer would their drumsticks.

He appeared much taller now, perhaps thirteen or fourteen; his hair was past his shoulder, though they still framed his face like curtains - a style he clearly favoured since childhood.

"Snape.”

Severus snapped the book shut and scrambled to his feet at the sound of the voice. His wand was clutched tightly by his side as he glanced around at the four boys that had entered the bathroom after him. Two of them were fairly older and bigger than him, the other two about the same height and frame as Severus.

"You have what we need?” said one of the bigger boys. This boy had an ugly scar that ran from his forehead across his nose and finally behind his ears.

Severus stared at them, brows slightly furrowed as though he were concentrating on something.

"You heard him, half-blood,” said the other one in a spiteful voice- this one was tall and looked quite menacing. “You got our essays or not?”

”How about I give you something else?” Severus said at last in a tone that dripped with uncontainable anger.

The two older boys laughed, turning around to look at two younger boys' reaction behind them.

"As much as I love your little bantering," said the boy with the scar, "I don't have time for it. McGonagall's expecting us to deliver her that essay and we're not leaving without it."

"I don't have it. In fact," Severus replied bitingly, "I didn't do it."

The tall boy shook his head in disbelief at Severus' attitude. “Now, now, Snape, we don’t want a repeat of what happened last week, do we?”

"Drowning in a toilet bowl-tut, tut, humiliating way to die, isn't it?"

"I’m not scared of you,” Severus hissed. 

"Unless you want to stay here and accompany Moaning Myrtle for the rest of your miserable life, half-blood, give us the essays. Now.” threatened the boy with the scar.

”No.”

The two boys laughed as they pointed at the boys behind them. “You both are about to see what happens when puny little boys don’t do what they’re told. I hope you can hold your breath, half-blood. The last time was what, Malcolm, two minutes?”

The boy named Malcolm laughed nastily, advancing towards Severus.

Severus raised his wand and the boys cringed as though expecting to be hit by a spell. Upon seeing Severus' lips tightly shut, they started sniggering. Their laughter, however, was cut short when Malcolm suddenly staggered back with a sharp cry.

”What?” his friend yelled.

But Malcolm did not answer. With another horrified screech, he fell onto the floor and hastily began picking away at his shoelaces. He threw his shoes and pulled at his mismatched socks to reveal nasty-looking, overgrown toenails. As everyone watched in horror and fascination, Malcolm's nails only continued to grow bigger and uglier.

”What did you do? Pick, tell him to stop-!”

The other boy, Pick, started towards Severus but it was too late. Severus had already raised his wand a second time. This time, there was a loud bang and Pick fell to the floor, unconscious.

”You killed him!” Malcolm yelled, the first signs of fear creeping into his features. He made to stand but the ridiculously long toenails made it difficult to do so. In the end, Malcolm doubled back on the floor, howling in pain.

"Apologize,” Severus demanded, wand aimed at the writhing boy. “Apologize and I’ll make it stop.”

"What are you-? Make it stop, Snape-please!"

Severus stepped towards Malcolm, his expression almost child-like as he observed the toenail that had grown the length of an index finger now. “Apologize for what you did to me.”

Malcolm blinked through his pain and terror, staring at Severus in an almost desperate manner. When the pain became too much to bear, he surrendered his pride. "I'm sorry, alright? I'm sorry-now, please-"

”Tell me you and your stupid friends won’t come after me anymore. And that you won't make me do your homework or push me around when you feel like it. Swear it.”

”I s-swear. Please-please just fix this-I did what you asked-“

Severus smiled, satisfied. He pointed his wand at Malcolm’s feet and just like that, the pain disappeared. Everyone stared in silence as the nails finally halted to a stop and a minute later, they began to shrink in size. Malcolm gasped in relief, struggling to get back on his feet. Without another glance, he broke into a half a run and a limp, leaving his shoes and socks behind as he did.

With the threat gone, the two younger boys started towards the unconscious Pick on the floor. One of them nudged his head with their boot and when he did not move, turned to face Severus.

"Is he dead?”

Severus sneered. “Knocked out, more like.”

”How’d you do that?” he continued, no concern at all evident in his tone. He had hair almost as long as Severus' own, and a rather nasty look about him - as though he were constantly plotting something terrible in his head.

”Non-verbal spells. Handy, if you ask me.”

The other boy, slightly shorter but built, looked at Severus in awe. “But we don’t learn them until sixth year.”

Severus simply shrugged.

The boy with the long hair extended his hand out to Severus. “Avery.”

Severus raised his eyebrow. “I know you are. You're in my year. We've been classmates for four years now?"

Avery smiled. “Yes, well, I thought I knew who you were. It's clear now I was wrong."

When Severus remained silent, Avery raised his arms rather defensively. “Listen, Snape-is it-? I don’t want you to get the wrong impression of me and Mulciber here. Those two buffoons made us come here and watch, said we needed to know what Slytherin house did to blood-traitors. That’s you, if you’re wondering.”

”I’m not a blood-traitor,” Severus scoffed.

Mulciber sniggered. “No?” he asked. “Then what about that Mudblood you’re with all the time? Isn’t she your Potions partner?”

Severus looked away from them, unsure of what to say.

”But blood-traitor or not, you’ve certainly proved yourself today. I mean, non-verbal spells...at this age...and say, that toenail spell..."

“Say, that toenail spell…”

”Made it up myself.”

Avery let out a victorious ‘hah!’ and slapped his knees. “You’re just full of surprises. Well, it was nice getting to know you, Snape. Keep in touch, won’t you?”

Mulciber made a half-salute and winked at Severus before leaving. Avery made to follow after him when Severus stopped him, raising his head towards the stupefied boy.

”What about him?”

”He’ll come to, don’t worry. I’m certainly not about to waste my time dragging his sorry arse out of here. Are you?”

He had said it so calmly and coolly that it had left Severus staring after him, impressed.

Lily was sitting by the edge of the lake, a plate of sandwiches next to her. She had a large leather-bound book on her lap and a smaller notebook in her hand, pouring over it so intensely that she took no note of Severus - whom had only just arrived to settle down next to her, panting.

”You started without me?” he asked in a slightly hurt voice.

"You’re late,” she said without looking up.

"Only by an hour-“

Lily looked up with an annoyed expression and it was obvious he knew what that look meant.

"Sorry," he mumbled, fidgeting with his fingers.

"Fine,” she said, turning back to the book. “Where were you?”

Severus smiled. “Mulciber and Avery wanted to practice the toenail jinx again. They haven’t got it yet but I reckon they’re getting better at it.”

Lily frowned slightly, not tearing her eyes away from the page. “And you’re sure that’s a good idea, are you? Teaching those two the toenail jinx?”

”Why?” he asked. "I taught you."

Lily closed the book at last and placed it into her bag. Severus opened his mouth to question her but she instead reached over to pass him a sandwich. He took one from her and began to munch on it as quickly as he could.

”I have to talk to you about something. And it’s got to do with Avery. And Mulciber, too.”

Severus nodded, urging her to continue as he chewed on the bread.

”I don’t think you should be teaching them anything. Did you know the other day Avery tried to corner one of the Gryffindor first years? He kept flicking his wand at him-“

”-so what?”

”So,” said Lily in a restrained voice, “your little practice sessions with them...you're not practicing by trying it on other students, are you?”

”No,” Severus said rather hurriedly. “Of course not!”

”Then how do you practice?”

He didn’t answer. He tore a small piece of the sandwich he had left and started to fling it into the lake, watching the soft ripples become hard as the fishes came to nibble away at it.

“We don’t hurt anyone, Lily, I promise.”

"Then why won’t you tell me?”

"Because you won’t approve.”

"Tell me.”

Severus drew a large breath and exhaled, making it quite clear how annoyed he was with her endless questions. “We take turns practicing on ourselves.”

She looked affronted. “Meaning?”

"Meaning,” he repeated slowly, sensing danger, “Mulciber and Avery practice on me and I demonstrate it on them.”

"Have you lost your mind?”

Severus glanced around to see if anyone had heard. “Lily-“

"Severus, this is a spell you came up on your own! It’s not safe to use it on yourself-what if something happens? I mean, even the Ministry takes years to develop and test spells-and you only just came up with this-oh, I can't believe this-you're just letting them use it on you-?"

Although Severus looked like he wanted to argue the matter, there was a slight hint of guilt and realization that spread across his face at her words. He glanced at her apologetically.

"You're right...it was stupid..."

"I’m serious, Sev,” she said, lowering her voice at last. “Those boys…they don’t mean well. They’re trouble-and they’re going to get you into trouble as well.”

He scrunched his nose in quiet protest. “I’ll talk to them, I promise. And I’ll get them to stop using my spell on other students-at least until it’s working properly.”

Lily opened her mouth as if to start another argument but decided against it. Severus took this opportunity to try and steer her away from this particular conversation.

"So did you find anything interesting in there?" he asked, nodding towards the book that stuck out from Lily's bag.

“That’s another thing I’ve got to talk to you about.”

He sighed, reaching for another sandwich from the plate.

”That spell you’re working on? Sectumsempra?”

”Yeah?” Severus managed.

”Well, the book sort of warns against offensive spells like that. Many of these spells are borderline curses that can be used to serve nefarious purposes-which classifies them as Dark Magic…and if you or anyone else is caught using the spell, you could get expelled. Or worse, sent to Azkaban for it.”

Severus gave her a half-smile. “It doesn’t even work yet. For all we know, all the spell does is give someone a paper cut.”

”You’re not listening to me, Sev. Many spells in the Dark Arts begin that way. As something harmless…but in the wrong hands, it could be used to bring a lot of pain. That’s how the Imperius Curse started out, too…they were a form of interrogation for Aurors to use against suspected murderers…but once it began to spread around…”

”Alright, alright, I’ll leave it alone,” he said. “You really do take the fun out of everything, you know.”

At this, she stuck out her tongue. “I‘d rather be no fun than to have my best friend carted off to Azkaban, thanks.”

”We don’t even know if it would’ve worked.”

”It would have. You’re much cleverer than you give yourself credit for.”

Severus reddened at Lily’s praise.

”So, are you coming home for Christmas this year?”

Her question had halted his cheery expression, and he turned solemn.

”Maybe,” he said softly. “Mum hasn’t been writing much…I think she’s getting worse.”

Lily nodded, nudging his shoulder with hers before placing her head against it.

”Do you want my dad to come take a look?”

Severus stared down at her, his face looking very small all of a sudden.

“If he’d like,” he replied, ”though I don’t think it’ll do much good. She doesn’t really believe in Muggle medicine…she won't even meet with a Healer. She's got herself perfectly convinced she doesn't  need any of it."

"Well, have her come over for Christmas dinner, then. I’ll have my Dad look her over anyway.”

"I’ll try but I can’t guarantee anything. You’ll be okay, though, if she wants me to stay home with her this year?”

Lily nodded again, biting her lip. "What about Christmas eve, then? Or the day after Christmas?"

Severus noticed her sly look. “Why? What are you hiding?”

"Petunia’s got a new boyfriend,” she said. “And he’s coming to stay over an entire week."

Severus snorted, and then gave her a curious look. "What's he like?”

”I don’t know yet,” she replied, laughing at Severus’ expression. “Christmas will be our first meeting. Petunia’s already written twice begging me not to come home this year.”

"Perfect, count me in too, then. She’s going to be twice as thrilled."

Lily giggled at the idea of her sister coming home with her Muggle boyfriend to discover her sister and Severus there to entertain them. Severus followed suit in laughter and when they had finally wiped away the tears from their eyes, Severus reached over for another sandwich.

Lily’s face was very red as she stomped towards Severus, her expression one of unimaginable wrath and fury. Severus, whose arm was still dressed in a sling, tried to duck out view but it was too late. She had seen him, and even worse – she had pointed to him. Severus knew if he tried to make a run for it, she’d only start screaming his name out loud in front of everyone else in the hall. So he stopped where he was, right in the middle of hall, just a little next to the Ravenclaw table, and resigned himself to his fate.

“You,” she said when she was close enough. “I need to ask you something –”

She had finally noticed the wrap around  Severus’ arm and for a moment, it seemed like Lily’s eyes would pop out of her sockets.

"What happened?"

Severus looked around them at first, noticing how a few students were starting to pay them some attention. With his free hand, he grabbed Lily and tried to drag her out of the hall but she wouldn’t budge.

“I’m not going anywhere until you tell me what happened to your arm.”

He shook his head weakly. “Lily, please, could we just talk about this –”

“No,” she snapped loudly. “Who did this to you? Was it those Slytherin boys that you’ve been hanging around with – because if it is, I’ve told you –”

“It isn’t them,” Severus hissed, much to Lily’s surprise. “Why are you always so quick to blame them for everything, anyway?”

Lily raised her brow. “Then who was it?”

Severus sighed deeply, very much bothered that he could not seem to tell her what it was that had happened.

“I can’t tell you. I’m now allowed to.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” she asked.

He raised his hands to try and hush her down. “I just can’t…what else do you want me to say?”

“Severus...”

He struggled momentarily, eyes lingering just a little too long at the Gryffindor table behind him. Lily had noticed, turning to see Severus staring at three boys seated there.

 “I don’t believe this. Potter did this to you?” she asked. “When I’m through with him...”

“No, don’t –”

“So he didn’t do this to you?”

He chewed on his lip, hesitating but Lily was on the move.

She had turned away from him, heading towards the Gryffindor table where Black, Potter and Pettigrew sat. They seemed pretty glum, even from afar, as Severus ran after Lily to stop her.

“Lily, wait,” he called. “You can’t – I’m not supposed to tell anyone–”

“Oi, Potter!”

Potter turned, his mouth twisting into a smile upon seeing Lily. His expression faltered when he saw Severus frantically trying to flag her down. Potter got to his feet, hand clenched tightly into a fist as he stared at Severus.

“Why can’t you ever just leave him alone?”

Black and Pettigrew turned towards them but seemed reluctant to intervene.

“Evans, what-?”

“His arm,” she said angrily, pointing at Severus. “You did that, didn’t you?”

Severus tried to get Lily to step away but she refused.

“Did he tell you that?” Potter asked, seething. “Because if he did –”

“No, he didn’t because you’ve told him not to. What are you threatening him with?”

Potter scoffed. “It wasn’t me who threatened him.”

“Then who was it? Was it you, Black?”

Black didn’t answer.

“Lily, stop –”

“No. I’ve had it with you lot pushing him around and now you’ve gone too far. I’m going to Dumbledore about this.”

There was a cold laugh. Black stood up, a very nasty expression reflecting on his face.

“Go and tell him, then,” said Black roughly. “I’m sure that’ll go real well for all of us. Especially old Snivellus there.”

“Shut up, Black.” Severus snarled.

Black jeered. “Or what? Haven’t you had enough?”

“Sirius...” Potter warned. “Lily, please – things are bad enough as it is right now...”

“I don’t care,” said Lily. “I’m not leaving until you apologize to him. Or else I’m reporting  this.”

“You know it’s funny. You’re always running around here acting like a saint – trying to defend people like him when you’re nothing but a pathetic little girl playing house with this git,” barked Black.

“Shut up, Sirius!” yelled Potter.

“How dare you talk to her like that?” exclaimed Severus, trying to get Lily to move.

But Potter had quickly stepped between Black and Severus. “Sirius, you need to stop.”

“If you think I’m going to let him speak to her like that, Potter –”

“Give it your best, Snivellus,” Black growled from behind Potter.

“You’re terrible,” said Lily, looking at the three boys in front of her. “All of you.”

Severus stopped, turning round to stare at her in surprise.

“I’m going to Dumbledore about what you did,” she said, her voice shaking.

“Go on,” said Black. “Maybe he’ll expel us this time and then we’ll be done with this place for good, won’t we?”

He brushed past Potter roughly, heading out of the Hall. Pettigrew stared at Potter before trailing after Black quickly.

“What’s he talking about?” Lily asked.

“We’re suspended,” Potter said softly. “Sirius and I.”

“For what?”

Severus answered this time, lifting his broken arm. “For this.”

“Happy Evans?” asked Potter as he finally turned  away from her, following both his friends out the Great Hall.

Lily spun round to meet with Severus. “Are you going to tell me what’s going on or not?”

“I can’t,” said Severus, irritated. “And don’t ask me why because I’m not allowed to. I’ve sworn not to. To Dumbledore.”

Lily gave an exasperated sigh. “And this happened last night?”

He nodded. “And there’s more.”

“What?”

“I got suspended too.”

“I don’t understand.”

“Neither do I.”

“How long?”

“A month. I’m leaving tonight.”

It was dark out by the Great Lake, crickets and birds trying to drown each other in their chirps and cricks. Lily and Severus sat, their figures almost silhouettes, framed by the low branches that hung above their heads.

Lily had her arm looped around Severus as they stared out at the lake. A small boat was bobbing about in the middle of it, though they hardly paid it any attention.

“You’re sure it didn’t work?” asked Lily.

“For the fourth time, no. I didn’t. I thought I saw a bit of a light but it got put off really quickly.”

She chewed on her lip. “The same thing happened to me when I tried, too. But the book did say it was fairly advanced magic, didn’t it?”

He nodded, distracted.

“That just means we have to keep trying.”

Severus made a noise in agreement, though his usual confident manner was missing in his response.

“What if…” he said with hesitance. “What if…there’s no point to it?”

Lily frowned, looking up at Severus in confusion. “What d’you mean?”

His next words were in a whisper. “What if the reason I can’t conjure a Patronus is because I just…can’t?”

She scrunched her nose in disagreement. “You’re wrong.”

“Really?”

“Well, yes,” she said with assurance. “Because you’re not the only one who failed. I did too, you know? And you’re also the best wizard I know so I know for sure that you’ll be able to pull this off. We both will.”

He scoffed, but could not hide the small smirk that formed at the corner of his mouth. She gave him a pat on his head, ruffling his hair a little as she did.

“We’ll get it soon enough, you and I. We did everything the book asked us to, didn’t we?”

“Mhm. But it did say it takes a lot of concentration to muster up that amount of magic.”

”I was concentrating pretty hard. Were you?”

“So hard I thought my head would burst.”

“Then it wasn’t for the lack of trying. Which leaves the last bit…the memory we chose – there must’ve been something about that that had to have been wrong. What memory did you choose?”

Severus blushed lightly. “It’s stupid.”

She laughed at his reaction. “No, tell me!”

“You first.”

Lily stuck her tongue out at him before answering. “Well, mine was when I found out I was a witch.”

“That’s a pretty good memory to use,” he said. “Mine was when mum took me to Diagonal Alley for my fifth birthday. My dad had to be sent up to the hospital for a week after the mining accident so we got to sneak away for a bit. It’s funny really…all we did was walk around the town for hours…we couldn’t even buy anything…but it’s one of the best memories I have.”

Lily pouted in adoration, placing her head against his shoulder.

“That sounds like a really lovely memory, Severus.”

He smiled sadly, sniffling lightly.

“She’s getting worse?”

Severus nodded his head, looking everywhere but at Lily. She took her hand in his and squeezed.

”At least you got to spend some time with her…she must’ve been happy to see you.”

”She couldn’t really remember me…I suppose with me returning home less frequently these days…it’s only a matter of time before she forgets who I am completely.”

“Then you ought to be home more often. You’re just pent up here in the castle for the holidays…I miss having you come round to the house…and so do mum and dad. Even Petunia’s asked about you. I bet she misses hearing your snarky comments at everything she does.”

Severus scowled at the comment as though it sickened him. This only made Lily crack a smile.

“You know, I think I might’ve figured out our problem.”

“What?”

“The memories we’ve picked…they’re good ones but maybe…just maybe, they’re not strong enough. I mean my memory was ages ago…and it was about wanting to become a witch and now that I’ve actually become one, maybe it isn’t as strong to conjure up a Patronus. The book did say it had to be a really solid one…something that was impressionable and long-lasting.”

“And my memory?”

“Well, it’s sort of dampened, isn’t it? Every time you think of your memory, you’ll start to remember your mum and it’s going to bring you down further.”

Severus nodded along, her words ringing sense in his ears. “So it isn’t as effective anymore.”

“We need something to keep us rooted…something that’ll never change or affect us in any way. Like…like memories of the two of us.”

Lily had turned scarlet.

“You really think it’d be strong enough?”

“I do,” she said firmly. “And we could even try to summon our Patronus together…maybe if we’re in close vicinity…it’ll make the memory stronger.”

“It’s worth a try,” said Severus, deep in thought.

“Come on!” said Lily, clapping her hands together. She pushed away at Severus playfully as she got back to her feet.

“You want to try? Now?”

“No time like the present!”

They moved to stand across from each other, wands withdrawn and pointed at the air above them.

“Got your memory?” she asked.

“Yes,” he said.

“Here we go…one…two…three..Expecto Patronum!”

“Expecto Patronum!”

This went on several times, each attempt earning them a glowing ball of light but it continued to grow brighter and stronger every time. As the light finally grew large enough to shine above their heads, they could at last make out an animal with small, kind features.

“Who’s there?”

Filch’s voice, however, had sent the two teens scattering off back towards the castle, both shrieking in delight at what they had just accomplished.

Severus was in the greenhouse, picking away at the small tendrils that that wrapped around a large purple flower he was tending to. The sky had started to darken and he was the only one left there save for Professor Sprout whom was busy making sure no Mandrakes were missing from the earlier class. When she noticed Severus, she let out a surprised grunt.

"It's late!" she cried out, startling Severus who snipped a leaf instead. "You should be getting ready for dinner, boy!"

Severus scowled. "I'm not particularly in the mood for dinner, Professor. D'you mind if I stay back a bit?"

Sprout hesitated but seeing Severus' willingness to stay in the greenhouse and learn a little or two about the plants there, she nodded. "Alright, but you're in charge of locking those doors when you leave, is that clear? And I don't want to see a mess when I come here in the morning."

He nodded quickly, looking rather excited now. He went back to addressing the plant before him, secretly sparing sharp glances over to Sprout who finally - after about five minutes of dawdling-finally left him alone in the room. With Sprout gone, Severus pinched away at the stubborn tendril before wiping its remains off on the table he was working on. He took extra care to place the plant by the sill of the largest window there, no doubt wanting it to be the first to see the light in the morning. When he was done, he sprung for Sprout's backdoor garden. There was a sign there above his head warning no students were to enter, which he gleefully ignored. Standing in her secret room, Severus took a moment to draw a breathe of pure amazement at what he was looking at. Every plant imaginable was there, planted in pots or growing above his head.

He pulled out a piece of torn parchment from his pocket and studied the illustration on it carefully. When he was done, he began his search for the plant that closely resembled the drawing he had. It was quick work-the plant was the biggest among all and had been placed in the centermost of the garden, atop a wooden crate. Severus clambered onto the platform and carefully plucked a few leaves, which he then stuffed into a small drawstring  bag he revealed to be hanging around his neck.

With his mission complete, Severus left Sprout's garden looking as though no one had ever stepped foot in it. He grabbed his bag, looked around once more to make sure no one else was there and walked out. He whistled cheerily as he locked the main door, turning to look at the purple sky when he was done. Rough clouds had begun to form above his head and he watched them rather warily before scurrying back towards the castle. He was only just halfway past the gates of the greenhouse when a loud scream interrupted him.

"What the-?" he said, staring all around him to see whom or what had made the awful screech.

He waited, his chest falling up and down in nervousness. He sighed, almost sure he'd imagined it when it broke through the air again. This time, however, Severus was able to pinpoint where it had come from and rushed towards the thicket of bushes just ahead of the courtyard.

"Stop it-whatever it is you're doing, it’s not funny-!"

It was clear from his expression he recognized the voice.

"Shut up! Why isn't it working-?"

Severus' face paled, this time quite sure he knew who'd spoken. He hurriedly stumbled into the bushes to meet eyes with the two boys, Avery and Mulciber.

"Snape?" Mulciber said, staring open-mouthed at him.

"Mulciber? What are you doing-?"

"-Severus!"

He turned now to see Mary Macdonald crouching by the large bark of a tree, her face full of fear and panic.

"Mary?" he asked, puzzled. "What's going on here?"

Mulciber stepped closer towards Severus and Mary, his wand pointed at the frightened girl.

"It's that damned spell! It's not working-here, see, Levicorpus!"

Severus had raised his arm in defense but there appeared to be no use. Mulciber's incantation had done nothing at all, and he looked furious about it.

"Mulciber, stop!" Severus yelled. "I told you not to-"

"-why isn't it working? Aves tried it, too-"

"Stop it!" Mary screamed again.

Severus finally stepped in front of Mulciber, urging him to pocket his wand. Mulciber and Avery looked nastily at him but nevertheless, Severus' angry glare convinced them to put their weapons away. Convinced that they wouldn't do anything to threaten her, Severus turned to Mary.

"Mary, listen-this isn't what you think-"

"Don't explain yourself to the Mudblood!" Mulciber roared, Avery nodding furiously beside him.

"Shut up, Mulciber," Severus said warningly.

"No," said Avery said bitterly, "No, you don't get to be nice to her and then turn around and tell us to shut up. We're your friends, not her."

Severus rolled his eyes before extending a hand out to Mary. He had a rather guilty expression on his face as he addressed her. "Listen, Mary, this was nothing-they're just fooling around, that's all."

Mary looked as though she would slap Severus hard in the face. Her own face was red and puffy from all the screaming and the crying earlier. She glanced over at Mulciber and Avery, but they only jeered at her.

"I'm telling McGonagall about this," she said, watching as all three boys turned white. "We'll see if you two are not on the train heading back home tonight."

"No, Mary, please-it isn't even a real spell," Severus said quickly. "It was just a prank...nothing would've happened, I swear."

"Yeah?" Mary said spitefully, "we'll see what my Head of House thinks about that."

"If you tell anyone about this Mudblood..." Mulciber said, baring his teeth, drawing close upon Mary and Severus again.

"Mulciber, back off-you're making things worse!"

"Tell her to keep her mouth shut, then!"

Severus pushed at Mulciber roughly. "Threatening her isn't going to fix anything-"

"Beg, then," Mulciber said, eyes glittering in rage. "That's the way you love to do things, isn't it? Get down on your knees, Snape, and beg that filthy Mudblood to shut up about this. She'll listen to you-that other Mudblood does, doesn't she?"

"Pathetic," Avery spat. "If I had my way..."

"Go on," said Mulciber, poking Severus hard on the chest. "Go and tell that Mudblood how sorry you are, you blood-traitor."

Severus' face was full of hatred and anguish now. 

"I'm not a blood-traitor," he said softly. "And I'm not begging that Mudblood for anything."

There was a sharp gasp behind him-Mary staggered back in shock, whipping her own wand out.

"You have two options," Severus said, turning to look at her. "You can run off and tell McGonagall and maybe get them expelled. Or maybe you won’t. You know why? That spell they were using…it isn’t a real spell. Not yet, anyway. So the most they’d do is take points off Slytherin and put them in detention for a month. And by doing that, you’re making yourself a direct enemy. I don’t think you’d want to spend the rest of your life watching your back in case someone tries anything funny do you? So that leaves us with your only other option. The safe option. Walk away from this and don’t say a word of this to anyone. That way you can go about your life, and us ours. No harm, no foul.”

Mary gave Severus a seething glare but he did not backtrack.  He stared back at her until she looked away.

"I really thought you were different," she said finally, her voice low enough so only Severus could hear. "She had me convinced that you were."

She left without giving them another glance. Severus heard laughter behind him and felt an arm around his shoulder.

"Now, that's more like it," said Mulciber, sneering. "You just keep surprising me."

Severus shrugged the arm off of him, turning to look at them with a mixture of disgust and anger. "What the hell do you think you're playing at?" 

"Woah, there-"

"-HAVE YOU LOST YOUR MIND?" he yelled, his face turning almost as red as Mary's had been. "DIDN'T I TELL YOU NOT TO PRACTICE OUTSIDE OF OUR PRIVATE SESSIONS?"

"And who exactly are you to tell us what to do?" Avery demanded.

Severus looked at him and then took a deep breath, exhaling as loud as he could. "Fine," he said coolly. "We're done."

Avery did not look bothered but Mulciber stared after him. "What do you mean we're done-Snape-wait-"

"We had an agreement," said Severus, turning back towards the main path. "You don't use those spells without me present. If you can't do follow through with that, then I'm done trying to teach you knuckle-heads anything. No more extra lessons or demonstrations or cheating on tests off of me. I'll go my way and you go yours."

"And you think it's that easy, do you?" said Avery in a menacing tone.

"Aves, pipe down, won't you? Snape, listen, maybe we made a mistake, alright?"

"No," said Severus, furious. "You don't get to make mistakes.  Not when it involves me. If she goes and reports this to McGonagall, do you really think she's going to believe you two dimwits came up with that spell? And even if she does, I'm sure your parents will have a nice long chat with Dumbledore and leave him with a big, fat donation to the school so you lot don't get in trouble! But me-people like me-I'll be suspended again or expelled or carted off to Azkaban and I can't have that. I won’t have that. There's so many things left for me to do-"

He was spluttering, on the verge of a breakdown, forcing himself not to allow his emotions to take hold of him. Mulciber gripped Severus' shoulders and shook him lightly.

"Okay, I apologize, Snape, alright? You have to calm down," he said, nodding as though reassured by his own words. "Avery, say you're sorry."

Avery was silent, mutinous. And then, "Fine. Sorry."

"There," said Mulciber with a sigh. "It's finished now, isn't it? I-we promise...we'll only try out your spells when you're with us."

"And you won't try them on anyone else?"

Mulciber struggled to answer but in the end settled for a short nod. 

Severus relaxed. "Okay."

"Okay."

"We should head back," said Avery in a mellow voice.  "We don't want to be out past curfew."

The other two boys nodded. They began their short walk towards the castle, with Avery slinking behind them with watchful eyes.

"You don't have to worry, you know," Severus said. "She won't tell anyone."

"No?"  Mulciber asked. "You're so sure?"

Severus nodded. "Mary's trying to keep her record clean. She got caught trying to sneak out to Hogsmeade with Black the other day...McGonagall warned her to stay in line or she'd be writing to her mother."

Mulciber slapped Severus' arm playfully. "How'd you know all that?"

"Isn't it obvious?" Avery muttered from behind them. "That Mudblood told him. Evans, is it?"

Severus did not answer but Mulciber seemed very keen to know more. "So, what is it about her that's got you so interested, anyway?"

"What do you mean?" Severus asked, puzzled.

"I mean...people from our House don't usually fraternize with people from their house. Ravenclaws, I get-even the Hufflepuffs are tolerable. But Gryffindors...they're the worst of the bunch."

Severus nodded in quick agreement. "They usually are."

"So, then...why?"

He paused to think for a moment but in the end, opted for a meaningless shrug. "I don't know. She's just like me, I suppose...in  way. She knows her stuff...and I mean really knows her stuff. Even if she is just a..."

Severus had stopped speaking suddenly, turning red from embarassment at his near-insult of Lily. Mulciber smiled slyly and let the end of Severus' sentence simply hang in the air. "I see," he said. "But you know what? We could use it to our advantage."

"How so?" Severus asked.

"You're in cahoots with the enemy. You could ask her about anything-even her team's Quidditch match..."

"I'm not really interested in Quidditch," said Severus with a shake of his head, as though even the word itself had evoked a sense of boredom in  him.

Mulciber stared at Severus, obviously trying to find the right way to steer the conversation to his benefit. He put an arm around Severus, putting slight weight on him as he did.

"But think about what you could do, Snape. If you got that (Severus shot him a look)-if you got Evans to tell you about their team and whatever they're up to, we could use that to one-up them somehow."

"Isn't that just cheating?"

Avery laughed sardonically but Mulciber had yet to give up.

"Well, none of the Gryffindors are ever fair to us, are they? It's easy for them to win every time because they're everyone's favorites. But they hate us-and the team. They'd made it so the odds are never in the favor so what do we do? We fight back the only way we can. We play foul. But that's not a very nice way to go about this issue, is it?"

Severus shook his head now, his frown growing deeper.

"So what I'm proposing is this: you ask Evans if she's heard anything from the Quidditch team. Her mates are bound to be players-they're all the same year, aren't they? Then all you have to do is report back to us and we'll see what we can do with that information. See, if we know how they're going to play, we can do what we can to stop them. That way, they don't win and we don't have to send another one of their players to the Hospital Wing for no reason."

The explanation, as questionable as it was, seemed to make perfect sense to Severus. 

"Aren't you going to ask me what the best part of all of this is?" Mulciber asked.

"What?"

He clapped Severus on the back with a wide grin. "We'll tell everyone that you helped us spy on those Gryffindors. Once they start to realize how incredible you really are, Snape, they'll all be falling in line for you. Just you wait and see."

The way Mulciber had said it had been so cool and confident that Severus could not help smiling. The smile faltered, however, a quick second later.

"That's not a bad thing, is it? Spying?"

"No," Mulciber said, "of course not. Everyone loves spies. And personally, I think you'd make a good one."

Severus scoffed. "So I've been told."

Severus was back at the castle, standing by the staircase he knew would lead up to the Gryffindor common room. He looked slightly ticked off, which made it increasingly clear just how long he'd stood there. He slouched over the stair banister, probably counting off the minutes he was wasting away standing up here. At last, he saw a few figures making their way toward him and quickly adjusted himself. It was a group of girls, and among them, Lily Evans and Mary Macdonald.

Lily shot Severus a surprised look before it turned into a smile. Mary, however, had a very sour expression on her face.

"Severus," called one of the girls from the group. He acknowledged the greeting with a quick nod, reserving his attention on the two girls that had stopped next to him. Mary had her arm looped around the red-haired girl, a grip that only turned tighter as Lily addressed Severus.

"What are you doing here?" she asked, before lowering her voice. "Any progress with the Sprout mission?"

"Yeah, but listen, I'll tell you tomorrow-I was actually hoping to speak to Mary tonight. Just Mary."

Lily's face fell but she covered it rather quickly. "Oh," she said in a baffled manner, "alright, then. Mary?"

"I'd rather go to bed, thanks," Mary replied, turning away from Severus abruptly. Lily watched the sudden animosity with an almost curious look.

"Lily, could you-?"

There was no need to elaborate his intentions. Lily waved her arms, gave Mary one final quizzical look and then she was joining the other girls through the portrait to the common room. Then the silence took over as Severus awkwardly stared at Mary, the girl still refusing to pay him any attention.

"Listen, Mary, about what happened earlier-"

Mary laughed rather coldly. "You've got some nerve, you know that? Just two hours ago you were threatening me and calling me names-and now that your stupid friends aren't here, it's back to being nice, is it? Just what do you think you're playing at exactly?"

Severus motioned for her to stop raising her voice, looking rather stricken at her outburst. "No, wait, just let me-I obviously lost my temper earlier and said some stuff I shouldn't have-"

"-like Mudblood, you mean?" Mary taunted.

He turned red as the word came spilling out of her mouth, shaking his head feebly.

"I'm sorry," was all he managed.

"I'm not accepting your apology, Severus. Not until you tell me what exactly those two were trying to do to me."

"It wasn't anything, I swear!" he said in exasperation. "Look it up-it's not a real spell."

"Oh, please," Mary scoffed. "You think I don't know what you and Lily get up to? She told me how you've been experimenting and coming up with your own spells-"

"She told you that?" he asked, frowning.

"-so unless you tell me what that spell was-"

"-fine," Severus exclaimed at last. "Fine, I'll tell you. It was supposed to make you levitate. Sort of."

Mary didn't look pleased with the answer. "Sort of?"

"It's complicated," he replied, "I haven't completely worked it out yet. But that's the basic mechanics of it, I suppose."

She stared at him, waiting to see if she could squeeze out any other information on him. When he did not budge, she crossed her arms. "Fine, then. Good night."

She brushed past him without another word. He chased after her, being wary enough not to come too close to the portrait. "Wait-Mary, wait!"

Mary sighed and turned to face him, arms wrapped tightly across her chest. "What? What else is there?"

"Lily," he said in a pleading voice. "You haven't said anything to her-?"

She smiled rather grimly. "That's what this whole apology's been about, isn't it? You're scared I'll tell Lily about what you did. And what you said."

He froze, his already pale face turning as white as a sheet now. "No, I-I really am sorry-"

"Save it," she snapped. "What I tell my best friend is between me and her."

"Please, don't."

"Or what?" she asked. "You'll threaten me again?"

He simply stood there, head hung in shame, staring at his battered shoes. Mary did not wait for a response, leaving Severus on the steps as she climbed through the portrait to where Lily surely waited...

"Oi, Severus!"

Severus was seated under a large beech tree, flipping through the pages of  book when he heard someone call after him. His first reaction was to sneak his hand into his bag, waiting for the right moment to whip out his wand. But  he retracted when he saw a  scrappy-looking Regulus Black walking towards him. Severus eyed him carefully; Black, who was usually so prim and proper, had untucked his shirt so it hung loosely over his belt. His shirt buttons were undone and his tie sticking out of his pocket.

"Black," Severus said in a disinterested tone, shifting back to the book.

"Why the long face, Severus?" Black said in a mocking voice as he sat down next to him. "Anything interesting today?"

Severus didn't answer him. Black waited a few seconds to see if the other boy would pay him any attention. Alas, he was met with only disappointment.

"Don't ask me how my day's going," Black said, glancing sideways to see if Severus was any interested. He was not. At this, Black leaned back against the tree, crashing into Severus' elbow and knocking the book out from his grasp as he did.

Severus cursed loudly, seething at Black as the younger boy tried to apologize.

"Black?" said Severus, annoyed.

"Yeah?"

"If I ask you what happened," said Severus, hesitant, "will you go away?"

Black sighed, a small grin sneaking its way back to his face. "Maybe."

Severus sighed now, deep and hard. "Fine, Black, how has your day been?"

"Terrible," spat Black, pushing his hair out of his face. "Mother's written to me for the fifth time this week."

"How awful," Severus replied sarcastically. "Can't think of anything worse than having a parent write to their child so frequently."

"It's not like that, you know," said Black, bending his knees towards his chest. His voice had gone a little quiet. "Every time she writes to me, I always think-I always hope it's about her asking me how my classes are going or how my professors are. Stupid stuff like that."

This sudden confession had caught Severus off guard and had somehow captured his interest. "Then what's she writing to you about if it's none of that?"

Black smiled grimly, staring off at the distance where a group of boys sat facing the lake. "Sirius."

Severus waited a while to respond. "Oh."

"It's funny," he said, though he did not smile. "My first year, she'd beg me to keep him in line-can you believe that? I used to be so proud too...that my mother had so much faith in me and none in him. I mean, I was the son who'd got into Slytherin like she always dreamed...and I'm almost always top of my class..."

"But none of that matters to her?" Severus asked softly, and Black shook his head.

"No, it doesn’t. I was too stupid...too blind to see...she used to write to me all the time, asking me to convince Sirius to try and get Dumbledore to put him in Slytherin. When she realized my attempts were worthless, she pushed me to go against him instead. Everything I did had to be better than Sirius and I-I tried-I really tried but I couldn't keep up. I thought she was  doing it because she wanted me to beat him at school but now...after three years...I realize she doesn't want me to better than  him. She wants me to be him. Sirius is who she really wants."

Severus did not speak, perhaps he had deemed it inappropriate to interrupt the enraged boy beside him.

"He doesn't know...or maybe he does...but he's the son my mother's ever truly loved. When we're both home, all she does is scream at him. It's like I don't even exist when he's around. And now…with him gone…she doesn’t even come out of her room! She doesn’t care if I eat or drink or if I’m even there at all! Do you know what that's like? To have to do everything as you're told and still amount to nothing...to be used again and again by your own mother who can't, in all her days, stop once and tell her son how much she cares for him?"

"Then perhaps you ought to stop being so pathetic."

Black blinked at Severus, confused. "W-what?"

"You heard me. Your behavior...it's astounding how vulnerable and stupid you really are, Black. Really, it's no wonder your mother's having a grand time making a fool out of you."

Black stood up, his face red. "Shut up."

"No," Severus replied calmly. "I'm just telling you how it is. You're an idiot, Black. You're an idiot because you think your love for your dear mother is so pure and true that someday, she's going to realize this and come running after you. You dream of it, don't you-of this moment where she begs you for forgiveness and tells you you're the only son she ever cared for?"

"And what if I do?" snapped Black, his eyes red and watery. "That's not so impossible to imagine."

Severus sneered. "You're a fool. Your mother will never do any of those things, Black, and you need to acknowledge that. To her, you'll always be the boy that was born after your brother. He's the real pride of your noble House, the only one she wants. And if you don't stop pretending otherwise, you'll end up wasting away your good years waiting on it."

"No, you're wrong," said Black, shaking his head. "She's my mother. No mother would do that."

"Not all mothers are meant to be good ones. Fathers, too. You can take my advice, Black, and stop chasing after your mother's love and validation or you can keep begging for it. Either way, it'd be your problem and not mine."

Black stared down at Severus, watching as the older boy returned his gaze to the book he'd been reading earlier, expression blank and unreadable.

"I hate you," Black said at last, spitting on the ground before stomping away towards the castle.

Severus looked up momentarily after, eyes jittering strangely.

The clock in the Great Hall chimed just as the last batch of students hurried in to have breakfast before their classes began. Severus was sitting next to Mulciber, scribbling something down into a book as the other boy watched him like a hawk. Mulciber looked up at the Gryffindor table, sneered and then leaned in to whisper something into Severus' ear. Severus' lips twitched slightly but Mulciber found his own comment so amusing that he barked with laughter.

"Uh oh," said Mulciber loudly which made Severus look up at last.

His brows creased as he saw Lily walking towards him in sharp strides, every stomp of her boots an echo of her growing anger. She stopped before him, staring down at his confused face.

"Could you tell your friend that we don't appreciate the glances he's been giving Mary all morning?" she said, crossing her arms across her chest.

Mulciber jeered as Lily turned to him. "Is something funny?"

"Oh no," said Mulciber in a serious voice, "I just think it's cute how you tell him what to do and expect him to just do it."

Lily scoffed, turning back to Severus. "Well?"

"Mulciber," he said hesitantly, "were you staring at Mary?"

Mulciber shook his head mockingly. "Why would I be staring at someone like her?"

"What's that supposed to mean?" Lily asked Mulciber. But he only grinned in response.

"Is there anything else?" Severus asked with a soft sigh.

"There is, actually," said Lily. "We have Potions later and I’ve decided to work on my own. So you can go and look for another partner, thanks.”

And she left, just like that, with Severus gaping at her. 

"Forget about her," said Mulciber, "you can work with me and Aves. We're tons more fun than the Mudblood."

Severus snapped his book shut, standing up to gather the rest of his thing. "Don't," he said warningly as he stuffed everything into his bag.

Mulciber remained quiet, watching with bemused eyes as Severus quickly ran after Lily.

"Lily!" he yelled, trying to catch up with her.

"I'm not speaking to you," she said, as she took bigger steps to try and outpace him. But Severus was much taller than her, and this attempt proved futile on her part.

"Why not?"

"Because I don't want to."

Severus fought to speak as they crossed the castle courtyard and headed in the direction of the dungeon.

"You can't keep ignoring me like this, you know? It's been three days since you've said a word to me-and now-now, you don't want to work with me anymore?"

Lily did not say anything in return, only walking as fast as she could.

"It's not fair!" he exclaimed. "Just tell me what's wrong-I thought we were supposed to be  friends? Best friends?"

"We are, Sev, but I don’t like some of the people you’re hanging round with! I’m sorry, but I detest Avery and Mulciber! Mulciber! What do you see in him, Sev, he’s creepy! D’you know what he tried to do to Mary MacDonald the other day?”

They had stopped at a pillar, with Lily leaning against it so she could look up at Severus.

“That was nothing,” said Severus defensively. “It was a laugh, that’s all—”

“It was Dark Magic, and if you think that’s funny—”

“What about the stuff Potter and his mates get up to?” demanded Severus.

His color rose again as he said it, unable, it seemed, to hold in his resentment.

“What’s Potter got to do with anything?” said Lily.

“They sneak out at night. There’s something weird about that Lupin. Where does he keep going?”

“He’s ill,” said Lily. “They say he’s ill—”

“Every month at the full moon?” said Severus.

“I know your theory,” said Lily, and she sounded cold. “Why are you so obsessed with them anyway? Why do you care what they’re doing at night?”

“I’m just trying to show you they’re not as wonderful as everyone seems to think they are.”

The intensity of his gaze made her blush.

“They don’t use Dark Magic, though.” She dropped her voice. “And you’re being really ungrateful. I finally heard what happened the other night. You went sneaking down that tunnel by the Whomping Willow, and James Potter saved you from whatever’s down there—”

Severus’ whole face contorted and he spluttered, “Saved? Saved? You think he was playing the hero? He was saving his neck and his friends’ too! You’re not going to—I won’t let you—”

“Let me? Let me?”

Lily’s bright green eyes were slits. Severus backtracked at once.

“I didn’t mean—I just don’t want to see you made a fool of— He fancies you, James Potter fancies you!” The words seemed wrenched from him against his will. “And he’s not ... everyone thinks ... big Quidditch hero—”

Severus’ bitterness and dislike were rendering him incoherent, and Lily’s eyebrows were traveling farther and farther up her forehead.

“I know James Potter’s an arrogant toerag,” she said, cutting across him. “I don’t need you to tell me that. But Mulciber’s and Avery’s idea of humor is just evil. Evil, Sev. I don’t understand how you can be friends with them.”

Severus was keeled over on the ground, stiff as a board.

“LEAVE HIM ALONE!”

Lily was standing in the middle of a large crowd, her wand pointed at both Potter and Black. Black watched Lily carefully but Potter was more relaxed, even a little amused by her.

“Ah, Evans,” he said cheerily, “don’t make me hex you.”

“Take the curse off him, then!”

Potter sighed deeply, then turned to Severus and muttered the countercurse.

“There you go,” he said mockingly, as Severus struggled to get on his feet. “You’re lucky Evans was here, Snivellus –”

“I don’t need help from filthy little Mudbloods like her!” he cried out in all of anger and humiliation.

Lily stood there, unwavering. “Fine,” she replied coolly. “I won’t bother in future. And I’d wash your pants if I were you, Snivellus.”

Potter turned to Severus, his face red. “Apologize to Evans!” he roared.

Severus, however, had appeared to realize what he’d said himself and was now on the verge of shock. His face paled suddenly as though he were about to topple over and Lily and Potter continued to scream over him.

He stood there, shell-shocked, as Lily finally stormed off to join her group of friends. Potter turned to Severus, not that Severus had even noticed, and a bang echoed throughout the grounds. Severus was hanging over the air, his robes falling over to reveal his skinny legs and underwear.

“Who wants to see me take off Snivelly’s pants?”

”MR. POTTER!”

The students quickly began to spread apart as Minerva McGonagall marched towards where Potter and Severus were.

“What is the meaning of this?” she demanded, eyes trailing between Potter and the upside-down Severus. “You will let Mr. Snape down immediately.”

Potter undid the spell with reluctance, glaring at Severus as he picked himself off the ground yet again.

”Twenty points from Gryffindor,” she said, though Potter did not argue. “And you, Mr. Lupin, I expected better from you. I’ll certainly be having a word with the Headmaster over your performance as a prefect as of late. You are dismissed, all of you.”

Potter nodded, still very much unapologetic as he strutted back towards the castle, his friends in tow. Severus, who had done his best to fix his crumpled robes, had his eyes planted at his feet.

“Mr. Snape,” said McGonagall in a much kinder voice, “are you alright? Should we take you to Madam Pomfrey?”

Severus shook his head weakly.

“Can I go?” he asked, voice trembling.

”Not until I’m sure you’re not hurt.”

But Severus refused to budge, only swaying lightly when the older woman gripped his shoulder.

”I’m very sorry they did that to you,” she said. “Did they hurt you?”

”What do you care?” yelled Severus, revealing his tear-streaked face at last. The tears wouldn’t stop flowing, his face red from all the anger he had contained inside of him. “What do any of you care?”

McGonagall was taken aback by the outburst, but a sorrowful expression took over her at the sight of the wailing boy. She stood there, one hand on his shoulder and the other on her side, as Severus’ body trembled and shook over each sob.

 “I’m sorry.”

“I’m not interested.”

“I’m sorry!”

“Save your breath.”

It was nighttime. Lily, who was wearing a dressing gown, stood with her arms folded in front of the portrait of the Fat Lady, at the entrance to Gryffindor Tower.

“I only came out because Mary told me you were threatening to sleep here.”

“I was. I would have done. I never meant to call you Mudblood, it just—”

“Slipped out?” There was no pity in Lily’s voice. “It’s too late. I’ve made excuses for you for years. None of my friends can understand why I even talk to you. You and your precious little Death Eater friends—you see, you don’t even deny it! You don’t even deny that’s what you’re all aiming to be! You can’t wait to join You-Know-Who, can you?”

He opened his mouth, but closed it without speaking.

“I can’t pretend anymore. You’ve chosen your way, I’ve chosen mine.”

“No—listen, I didn’t mean—”

“—to call me Mudblood? But you call everyone of my birth Mudblood, Severus. Why should I be any different?”

He struggled on the verge of speech, but with a contemptuous look she turned and climbed back through the portrait hole.

Severus did the best he could to hold his emotions in but a second later, he was on the steps, his cries witnessed only by the portraits around him.

As the memory reformed, Severus was now sitting in the abandoned playground from his childhood. The swing set he’d so often occupied with Lily had been destroyed, most likely by the same vandals who’d taken to marking strange-looking initials onto the poles of the swings. But this was no issue for Severus; he directed his wand at the broken pieces of the swing and watched silently as they put themselves back together again. As he cautiously took a seat, he heard a branch snap somewhere from the overgrown bushes where he’d often hide away with Lily. Severus jumped to his feet, hand reaching for the wand he’d only just tucked into his pocket.

“Who’s there?” he asked darkly.

There was more rustling and out stepped an older-looking Petunia Evans. A burly-looking boy with neat, combed back hair followed, his eyes goggling at Severus in shock and disgust. Severus let out a scoff.

“It’s you,” he said rather rudely. “Spying again, were you?”

A hard flush appeared across Petunia’s cheeks. “Spy? On you? Whatever for?”

“Like I would understand a Muggle’s reasoning for anything,” he replied with spite.

“Excuse me,” said the boy next to her. “I don’t think that’s any way to speak to a girl.”

“You call that a girl?” Severus asked with a sneer.

“You –”

“Vernon, don’t,” said Petunia, grabbing the boy’s hand and pulling him back. 

Severus turned back in the direction of the swing.

“You fixed it. The swing – it was broken when we came by…two weeks ago.”

“So what if I did?”

“You’re allowed to use magic outside of that freak school of yours then?” she asked, more interested than turned away by the subject.

“Maybe I am, maybe I’m not. What are you going to do? Write a letter?”

Petunia’s face turned rather ugly at Severus’ mockery of her. “What are you doing here anyway?” she asked bitterly. “My sister said she rid herself of you months ago.”

Severus had frozen at the comment, a look of hurt passing briefly in his expression. But Petunia had noticed it, she had noticed and was insistent on hurting him some more.

“Don’t you know? She’s got that boy with her now – he’s less of a creep than you are but –”

“If you don’t shut your mouth, Petunia,” said Severus savagely, “I’ll do it for you. And I know a couple spells that’ll make it last forever.”

Petunia laughed coldly. “Like you’d dare.”

“Petunia,” said Vernon, looking a little scared, “maybe we shouldn’t be threatening him. These lot…they’re dangerous, aren’t they?”

“Not him,” said Petunia. “I’ve known him since I was a child. And he’s about as frightening as a butterfly. Though he can make you believe otherwise. He’s just a good pretender.”

Severus’ hand was now tightly gripping his wand in his pocket, jaw clenched a little more every time Petunia spoke. “I’m not the same as I was back then.”

“No?” she cooed mockingly. “Getting dumped by my sister make you go rabid?”

“Don’t push me to do something I’ll regret, Petunia.”

“Always so angry when it’s about her. Be honest, Severus, did you think you ever stood a chance?

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Don’t play coy,” said Petunia, teeth bared. “She’s thinking about getting married, you know. With this boy she’s brought home. Told me herself.”

“I don’t care.”

Petunia and Severus glared at one another, neither willing to back off. But in the end, she turned to her boyfriend, Vernon, with a sickening huff. “Come on, Vernon, I’m tired of arguing with this freak. Let’s go.”

“Yeah,” growled Severus, “you run along home.”

“Well,” said Petunia gleefully, “At least I’ve got one to go back to.”

Severus watched, face full of rage and bitterness, as Petunia and Vernon walked away hand-in hand.

Severus, who now looked much taller and older, was bent over a wooden door, ears straining over the keyhole to eavesdrop on the conversation inside. He had been there half a minute before a burly man in a dirty apron charged towards him, grabbing Severus by the cuff of his cloak roughly. The man, whom had clearly intended to pin Severus against the door, exclaimed in surprise when the force he exerted and Severus’ weight threw open the flimsy door – revealing Albus Dumbledore sitting across from Hogwarts’ Divination Professor, Sybill Trelawney. While Trelawey seemed absolutely affronted by the interruption, Dumbledore was frighteningly calm. But Severus, whose face had turned considerably pale, undid the clasp of his cloak, freeing himself from Aberforth Dumbledore’s grasp. Severus, free from the older man's grasp, slinked away backwards as quickly as he could, mumbling about having come up the wrong way and that it'd been a mistake. As Aberforth swung round to try and catch the fleeing man, his brother raised an arm to stop him. Severus stopped, puzzled as to the Headmaster’s actions but did not linger long enough to find out why.

Severus was on his knees, bent over in pain as the man towering above him cursed him with tales of failure and betrayal. But Severus continued to feed his Master bits and pieces of the conversation he’d heard, muddled in with half-apologies and praises. If Severus had hoped it would be enough to grant him reprieve, he was right – for Lord Voldemort waved  his wand once and Severus rolled over, panting in relief at the subsiding pain. His Master nudged him with an expensive-looking boot, urging him to speak again of what he’d heard at the pub.

It took a while before a new image appeared of Severus in a dimly-lit dining hall. The hall was grand, with black-painted walls and beautiful chandeliers adorning its ceiling. The table that was in the center of the room was laid out with dishes full of food and drinks. Although, they all looked untouched as the focus finally fell on a group of men huddled in the other end of the table.

Severus sat in an unnoticed corner, dressed in dark and expensive-looking clothes. His hair was slicked back, nose turned high up in the air as he observed the other men’s conversation. There were jeers and laughter as the man at the head of the table read off a list he had.

“The McKinnons…dead except one. Parents hid their little rat in a hole somewhere but only a matter of time until we smoke it out (someone snickered). McDonald was caught but the Dark Lord reckons he’d like a word or two with her first,” he said, his yellow teeth glinting in the light. “The Longbottoms were spotted near Gringott’s today…Barty reckons they’re on the run…and the Potters’ –”

There was a clanging noise as the goblet next to Severus hit the ground, rolling off into the darkness.

“What about them?” he asked, forcing feigned disinterest.

“There’s been a new rumor as to their whereabouts,” replied the Death Eater, “but the source seems a little…unreliable.”

 “Why?” asked another man sitting just across from Severus.

“An insider,” the Death Eater replied with a chuckle. “Said he knows where the Potters are. But the address he gave us was a fluke…”

“But why the Potters? I didn’t know they had anything of interest for the Dark Lord…”

The man from earlier turned to Severus warily. “And why the sudden interest, Snape? You hardly ever talk in these things and suddenly you’re a curious cat, aren’t ya?”

Someone else laughed. “Of course he’s interested,” said a wheezy voice.

“Shut up, Avery,” Severus snapped impatiently. “Why the Potters?”

“Well, apparently there’s been some prophecy about the Dark Lord and a child…he won’t say more on the subject but he’s asked for me and a few of the boys to mark down potential children that’d be born in July.”

“I don’t understand,” said Severus with a frown.

Avery laughed. “Don’t you get it Snape? That Mudblood’s carrying a little Mudblood junior and for whatever reason, the Dark Lord wants him.”

His face turned white as a sheet. “She’s pregnant? Are you certain?”

More people laughed.

“We haven’t got definite proof but the traitor reckons it’s true. Even told us the exact date and all…the Dark Lord thinks it’s down to the Potters’ or the Longbottoms’. It’s why we’ve been scrambling about day and night to find them.”

“Do we know who it is?” asked Severus. “The traitor?”

“Questions...questions,” tutted the Death Eater, turning away from Severus. “Who else have we got on the list?”

Severus was kneeling before Dumbledore, looking very much like a madman as the wind beat wildly against his hair. He was wringing his hands, the usual dark eyes now full to the brim with desperation as he begged for the Headmaster to save Lily Evans at the expense of her husband and child.

Toward the end of the interaction, Dumbledore stepped forward and asked Severus an important question. “And what will you give me in return, Severus?”

“In – in return?” Severus asked. But the question posed to him had been clear, and he gave an equally defiant answer in return.

“Anything.”

The air was cold, and the snow was falling terribly hard all throughout the abandoned playground. Yet, Severus stood calmly, watching the flakes land on his traveling cloak with hardly any expression at all. And then, there was a loud crack! – he turned, wand pointed directly at the figure that was fast approaching him, their own wand lighting the way through the unforgiving weather.

“Stop!” Severus demanded when the figure was at an arm’s length. “Show yourself.”

The hood fell away to reveal a freckled woman with flaming red hair and astonishingly striking green eyes. Severus lowered his wand, though his eyes did not once stray away from Lily Potter’s.

“You came,” he said in a raspy voice.

“Were you expecting me not to?” she asked.

Though she looked much older now, she was still as beautiful as ever. In fact, aging seemed to have done her even more grace than before. Her hair was much shorter than before – had she chopped it off after leaving school? Or more recently?

“It was careless of you. You shouldn’t have,” he replied.

Lily raised an eyebrow at his comment. “You didn’t summon me here just to lecture me on safety, I hope? I risked a lot coming here…as I’m sure you’re aware.”

He nodded grimly. “I know…I apologize…I would’ve sent everything I needed to say in a letter but I couldn’t risk it…”

“Not with all your Death Eater friends watching, I expect?”

He stumbled slightly in response and for a second, even Lily looked surprised. “So it’s true…you’re – you’re one of them, aren’t you?”

“You have to listen to me, Lily,” he said, attempting to change the subject. “You’re in danger.”

She scoffed. “I know that already. My husband and I have been in hiding all this time because of that.”

“You don’t understand,” said Severus, shaking his head gravely. “Where you’re staying now…it’s not safe either. There’s a spy…he’s been relaying information to the Dark Lord all this time. Even after Dumbledore’s hid you away.”

“But that’s impossible,” she said in disbelief. “We haven’t had any contact with anyone –”

“–what about  him? Potter? Has he been speaking to his friends or meeting them at all? Has he been sneaking out perhaps?”

“James has never once left my side,” she said. “The others…they come to visit sometimes but none of them would ever betray us. Never.”

Severus snorted out loud. “Are you listening to yourself? You can’t trust anyone with something like this, Lily. Who’s your Secret Keeper? Is it Dumbledore-? Because he’s the only one who can–”

Lily had stopped Severus with one swift motion of her hand. “I don’t need you of all people to give me a lecture on trust, Severus. None of our friends are Death Eaters or tied to them in any way. I can’t say the same for you.”

The words had struck Severus so hard that he was at a loss for words, searching for the right thing to say to ease the woman in front of him.

“I’m not asking you to trust me,” he said, voice quivering. “I’m asking you not to. Don’t trust me or anyone else, just yourself. There is a rat amongst Potter’s friends…I know because I’ve heard it. This-this person is supplying the Dark Lord with details – details only someone who have been in close touch with you would know! Don’t you understand – he’s learned enough to attack at any time!”

“Then why hasn’t he?” challenged Lily, her voice rising alongside her growing impatience. “If this – this so-called spy has already told him where we are – why hasn’t he hunted us down yet?”

Severus was once again quiet. “That means – whoever this person is…they aren’t the Secret Keeper…that’s the only explanation, isn’t it? Who is it…this Secret Keeper? Can they be trusted?”

Lily paused, hesitating for a moment. “Dumbledore.”

There was a sudden lift in tension, and Severus exhaled loudly. “Dumbledore,” he repeated with a small smile. “That – that’s good.”

“No, it isn’t,” she said grimly. “Because he’s asked us to name a different Keeper by the end of the month. Says it isn’t safe because he’s frequently moving around the country and could be ambushed at any time. He’s asked us to name someone else.”

Severus started to shake his head. “No, you-you can’t trust anyone else. What…what if I offer another solution?”

Lily crossed her arms but waited for him to continue.

“What if you came with me?” he said. “What if I hid you away?”

She laughed coldly. “You? Do you even realize what this sounds like? For all I know, you could’ve come here tonight to trap me into leaving with you so that you could deliver me to you-know-who yourself.”

“It’s not like that.”

“So you’re saying you would take me and my husband away to hide in safety?”

He glanced towards her protruding belly, something he had refrained from doing since meeting her.

“Just you.”

“I am not going anywhere with you without James next to me. Is that clear to you?”

“Then you’re a fool,” spat Severus bitterly.

“I’m a fool for not wanting to leave my husband? You’ve got some nerve.”

“Don’t you see?” he cried out. “If I move you somewhere else with him, he’ll make sure his friends know or follow along. The whole point of doing this is so you’re cut off from everyone else completely.”

“How convenient,” she replied sarcastically. “Then you’d have me all to yourself, wouldn’t you?”

Severus turned a nasty shade of green just then, staggering back. “That’s not – I wouldn’t ever – how could you even –”

“Tell me something, Severus,” said Lily in a low voice. “Why have you come here tonight? You work for you-know-who…why risk being discovered? Why go through all of this at all? Why?”

“It doesn’t matter,” said Severus firmly but his lowering gaze gave the answer away.

“It was you, wasn’t it? You’re the one who tipped you-know-who off on the prophecy about my child?”

“No,” said Severus weakly.

“Liar.”

He cowered as the sting of Lily’s words hit him. “It-it was a mistake.”

“You’re the reason we’re even hiding away like this. You’re the reason why my family is in danger,” she said.

“I’m trying to fix it, Lily. Please.”

“You disgust me.”

“I don’t-I don’t care. Just please –”

“Dumbledore told us about you, you know. Said he’s found himself a Death Eater spy who’s willing to slave his whole life away to try and redeem himself. I couldn’t believe it at first…but when you wrote that letter to me…I knew. I immediately knew…and I hoped…I hoped it was because you realized you were on the wrong path. That you felt terrible about putting so many families at risk by telling you-know-who about the prophecy. But now I understand. You just feel guilty because it was my family, don’t you? You don’t care about anyone else that might get hurt…or killed…you just want to make up for your mistake towards me.”

To that, Severus had no reply. But with every word that came out of Lily’s mouth, Severus seemed to grow just a little smaller.

“I’m releasing you of that burden,” she said finally, her hands pressing against her stomach now. “You’re free.”

“W-what?”

“You don’t need to save me anymore. I forgive you…if that’s what you’re after. You can just…go back to spying or being a Death Eater or…just whatever you want. I couldn’t care. Just as long as you leave me and my family alone.”

This was too much for Severus to bear.

“Lily, please,” he whispered, imploring her to listen. “I’ll do anything-anything you ask. Anything you want me to…just please…please just come with me…I’ll keep you and your child alive. Even…even if it’s at the expense of my life. Please.”

“I’ve made my decision, Severus.”

Severus dropped to his knees at an attempt to persuade her further but Lily was no longer interested. She brought the hood back up so it layered over her face, making her unrecognizable once more.

“Please,” said Severus, but his pleas were drowned over the sound of Lily disapparating.

[warning]
Severus was out by the Great Lake, it’s dark inky waters in the night making it seem treacherous that it ever could have been in the day. He stood there, listening patiently, as the Phoenix patronus floating in front of him relayed the latest information in Dumbledore’s voice.