The Return Of Severus Snape

Lady Agatha Hal

Rating: G

Disclamier: Sev is not my character, he is J K Rowling's. As goes with Dumbledore. Ilzy, however, is mine. Plot is mine. Do not copy without permission, please.

Notice: My being an idiot, I posted this chapter up before the first one, Severus Snape and The Long Silence. Forgive me. Please read the second chapter first, then return to this one. That way, you will read it in the right order. Apologies.


He watches the sky. Always. That is how he knows night from day.

He watches as the black sky gives up its specks of light to the brightness of day. He watches, as the sun's rays appear behind a bleak horizon, hurting his eyes just a little. He watches, as the sun climbs higher in the sky, seeking its goal of midday. He watches, always.

He wasn't always so alone, so isolated. He wasn't always a Watcher who did nothing else. He used to lead a life, a double life, even. But that was at his prime. Who cared about him? No one. He didn't even recognize the old fool who visited every week. He didn't understand the tongue in which he spoke and couldn't decipher the pain that passed across his face. He was a mute now.

Something new in the sky. Some red, and yellow, and blue. Something colourful, floating carelessly, riding the azure sky. Something that looked at if someone moved it yet did not connect to the ground. He noticed something new that day.

Night. A blast in the sky! Why was there red and green sparks covering up the familiar glow of the silver specks? Why did it go up as one, and then explode into a shape so foreign? Why was his everyday life interrupted? He noticed a lot that day.

A series of knocks. Yes, he was used to that. A few knocks on the door, once every seven days and six nights. Yes, The Knock. He said nothing. He could say nothing. The door creaked open. A man stepped in, a smile on his old, weather-beaten face. He stepped in front of the man on the chair, facing the world.

"Hello, Severus," he said politely, "How are you doing today?"

How the man wished he could talk. He wanted to ask about the interruptions in the sky! Why is the floating paper? Why are there blasts of colour? He wanted to ask.

"I take it you're doing well. I also see that you haven't touched the food Ilzy conjured up for you. Would you like a bite?" Acute pain passed over the old man's features. He was now used to playing nurse to the man, though the pain stayed and wouldn't ebb away. He reached out and pressed on each side of the man's jaw and fed him his soup, "that's right, Severus. You have to eat."

Sa-va-rus… sa-va-rus… twice that man had said that! He could slowly link sounds together. He could know if he'd heard something twice. But he didn't understand it.

"Severus?"

Three times! Three times! It must mean something!

The old man straightened his back and rang the small bell quickly. Ilzy popped into the room out of thin air, "Ilzy. Is this natural? Does he always do this?"

"Ilzy is not knowing, Master Dumbledore, sir. Ilzy is only bringing Master Snape his food, and Ilzy is making sure in the morning that he is having something, Master Dumbledore, sir. Ilzy does not come in here more than that, sir, Master Dumbledore. Ilzy is staying in the kitchen. Ilzy is taking care of Master Snape, but Ilzy does not always come here. No, no. If Ilzy is always coming here then Master Snape is getting angry, Master Dumbledore, sir."

He sighed. Reading between the lines, it meant that it could be normal and it could not. "Very well. You may go." She disappeared.

He looked back at the exhausted man on the chair, locked into the chair for two years. Sadness passed over him. How was he to know? If he'd known, he would've begged Severus to move, to speak, to travel the world in a day. But he hadn't known. He'd thought that it was Severus' therapy, and so left him be. When he'd ceased talking to him, he'd made up excuses. When he'd ceased moving, he said that it was as he wished, that he would rejoin the world when he wanted to. And now, a year along, he wished he'd forced Severus to do everything he had not wished to.

To be alive.

He sighed again. He pulled out a long wand from his pocket, and muttered a few spells. In the space of a few minutes, the man was showered, clean, in new garments and looked a lot better. What had now become his job was done. Until next week, then.

He got up to go.

Then the strangest thing happened. The man looked up!

His mask of black hair fell back, his face held an almost childish curiosity. His eyebrows furrowed, his mouth fell slightly open.

The old man froze in his tracks, "Severus?" he whispered.

The man had a strange neurotic expression on his face. He was frightened. He had moved.

And he recognized what the man had said. Sa-va-rus. Four times now… what did it mean? Something in him stirred, a distant part of him, a part he'd forgotten utterly. He started to weep. What did it mean?

The old man's eyes widened in astonishment and he sat down again, searching the man's face for the source of his tears. He found nothing.

The man was trying to speak!! His lips moved slowly, in a daze. They parted and came together and pouted and relaxed. What was he trying so hard to say?

The old man stayed by him, waiting for his first word of eighteen months.

"Sav…" He closed his mouth. No. That wasn't right, "sav… sev… sev! Sevar…" No, wrong, wrong. That wasn't what the man had said, "Sevea…" No.

The old man sat still in his chair, realizing the man was trying to say his own name!

"Sevea… sever… sever!! Severaus… Severus! Severus!" he finally mouthed, "Severus…" he said in a clouded voice.

"Yes, Severus. Welcome back, my dear friend. Welcome back," the old man smiled.

Outside, the dark sky was erupting in sparks of all colours. It was a day of celebration.

The anniversary of the defeat of Voldermort.

And the return of Severus Snape.