Stolen

Severus Snape returns from Lord Voldemort with something stolen from him.


They help the young man into his office, and sit him down. Poppy Pomfrey fusses, Minerva McGonagall watches on, and Albus Dumbledore kneels beside him. He reaches out a wrinkled hand to take one that is smooth, clenching the fingers tight in his own. "Severus? Can you hear me?"

There is no response. Albus glances at Poppy, who waves her wand once more. "I can detect no physical damage..."

But there had to be something wrong.

There had to be some reason why Severus was simply sitting. His eyes were open, but he was not seeing. His ears could detect sound, but he was not hearing.

And when Albus leans across the gap between them and presses a gentle kiss to Severus' cheek, he does not even flinch.

Albus sits back on his haunches, his face painted with grief and fury. "What has Voldemort done to you?"

He lets one finger trail down Severus' neck, hoping to cause some sort of reaction from the other. "My boy..."

Poppy backs away, lowering her wand. "Albus..." Her eyes are sparkling with tears.

Albus does not answer her. He moves so he is staring into Severus' eyes. "Severus?"

Minerva turns away. She too understands.

"Albus...he's a shell of who he once was..." Poppy feels as though she must fill in the details, prompt the Headmaster to see the truth.

Severus does not even blink. He looks at the Headmaster, but he does not see him.

Albus looks away, down at Severus' lap. There is a piece of parchment protruding from a pocket in his black robes.

Black handwriting stains the yellowing sheaf.

"I have taken what is, by rights, mine."

Poppy Pomfrey lets the sob force itself from between her lips.

Minerva McGonagall lets her head fall into her hands.

Albus Dumbledore lets his arms wrap around his protege, pulling him close.

And Severus Snape continues to stare, blind and deaf to the world, emotionless, powerless, and soulless.