In the Head of the Snake
Chapter 1: Thoughts
Snape gave a great sigh as he slumped against his desk. The dank and dark room still echoed with the ghost of the slammed door. A bead of sweat trickled slowly down his forehead. He wiped it away tiredly.
He wasn't physically tired; his patience was what was tired. Actually, it was more like exhausted. If Harry Potter didn't get the hang of Oclumens soon, then he would fall straight into the Dark Lord's hands. And what with the way things were going now, that would be the most likely end to the Wizarding World's only hope.
Only hope. That's what Dumbledore said at least…but it didn't make sense; he was just a boy! How could he possibly confront the world's darkest wizard and still live? Or maybe he wasn't supposed to live. Dumbledore wasn't being very clear about anything these days. Did he suspect him, Severus Snape, of being a traitor? No…if anything, Dumbledore understood his feelings better than anyone else. Despite the Dark Lord having frequent visits into his mind, the Dark Lord knew nothing – not even the smallest glimpse of truth – at what lay in his heart.
With that thought, his chest skipped a beat. This Occlumens lesson had been worse for him to bear than the boy. Not only did he have to live with the guilt of Lily's death every day, but now he had witnessed it. The boy hadn't seen much as an infant, but the screams were very loud in his mind, and very, very real in Snape's as well. Harry had probably not known that the green light that he saw devouring his mother's form was that of the killing curse – not until last year of course.
Snape berated himself once more for that fatal year. Of course he had known that the Dark Lord was getting more powerful, but he had failed to act sooner. What could he have done? Left Hogwarts to avenge the death of Lily Potter? He couldn't have done anything; he had to be at school to watch over Lily's son…not that he had helped much – the boy had still wound up in the clutches of that mass murderer.
He reached subconsciously towards his left arm. When the Dark Lord had gained power, he had known immediately. The tattoo had never been that bright since the man's demise and the power that had soared through his veins at the summons had been enough pain to realise his worst fear; the Dark Lord was back.
His arm tingled slightly at his touch. The black mark that forever patented him as an enemy still burnt slightly from his last summons. He had had to rush back to Hogwarts to meet the boy in time for the lesson. Harry had been curious – as always – as to why Snape was late, but Snape had shut him up very quickly; the less the boy knew, the better.
Yes, the less he knew the better. Slowly, Severus Snape moved to his shelf. Stored carefully next to pickled boomslang skin was an oval bowl filled with grey mist that swirled as he brought the bowl down. The pensieve was a helpful tool, especially during these times. Potter had managed to break through Snape's thoughts just the once and that was enough shame for Snape to bear. If the boy found out…if he knew…he would never be able to forgive himself – not as if he did now in any case.
He swirled the pensieve slowly, watching as the mist changed from memory to memory. Dumbledore had entrusted the bowl to him with strict orders: he must not look at the other memories in it. Snape was not stupid; he knew that whatever other secrets were entrapped in the pensieve must be of great importance. The mist changed from a straggle haired boy with a long pointed nose busy writing Defence against the Dark Arts to that of a man with a face long since abandoned by his original striking features.
Snape stared at the face of Siruis Black in the pensieve. That man…why was he Harry Potter's god father? Yes, he had been James Potter's best friend, but he was hardly god father material. A smirk crossed his lips as the memory started to progress. This would put him in a good mood.
He walked carefully to his table and sat down as the image slowly rose out of the mist and proceeded to enact the past.
"You can't expect Harry to just get it immediately!" shouted the image of Sirius into the empty room.
"He's just like his father – too stubborn to see past his aversions." An image of Sirius's old time friend appeared. Lupin looked harassed and his clothes were torn worse than normal. Snape sneered at the man's state. If he was a werewolf, then he should be more prepared for his changing each full moon, yet Lupin was continuously turning a blind eye to the nature of his circumstances, as if ignoring them would cure him of his disease.
"What are you implying? That Harry should learn to trust this – this – " Sirius struggled to find an appropriate name for Snape.
"Traitor?" offered Snape. "I know it's on the tip of your tongue, dog. Just say it. Unless you have any other sweeter names you'd like to call me?"
"This isn't helping Snape," growled Lupin.
"And neither, as I have heard, have you been," sniped Snape.
"What do you mean?"
"Well apparently our tame werewolf hasn't been keeping up his end of the bargain. The underground not your type is it?"
"It takes time Snape!" Lupin said through gritted teeth. "The underground is a lot harder to infiltrate than you seem to think."
"And it's not as if you're doing anything of great importance either," leered Sirius.
"What I am doing is better than sitting around house cleaning," said Snape dryly.
Lupin had to restrain Siruis as he pushed his chair back viciously and reached for his wand.
"Oh please do," begged Snape. "I would love to put you in your place after all these years."
"You could never put James 'in his place,'" whispered Sirius. "He was always better than you. At everything. With everyone."
"If you want to say something, Black, then say it straight." Snape's face was a blank page and his voice was emotionless.
"I don't need to read minds to know things," said Sirius relaxing back into his chair as his victory seemed in plain sight.
"Lupin, do you know what your, ehhem, friend is blabbering on about?"
"Actually," said Lupin slowly, "I don't."
Sirius's look of surprise was genuine.
"You don't?" he asked Lupin.
"No, I don't. Not at all actually."
The watching Snape laughed aloud at the shocked look on Sirius's face in the pensieve. The man actually had it right, but no one would believe him. That Severus Snape would love Lilly Evens was beyond anyone's imaginations. The only person who would have any idea of sorts would be Sirius. With another laugh, he viciously whirled the pensieve so that the shocked face fell into mist and dissolved into a swirling mass.
He sighed again and leant back into his chair, his eyes closed. In his momentary lapse of relaxation, another memory floated to the top of the pensieve, unnoticed by Snape. He snapped his eyes open when he heard Dumbledore's voice.
"You cannot come to the castle, Sirius. Be reasonable."
"He's torturing my godson!" barked the man angrily.
"Severus would never do anything to harm Harry. I would greatly appreciate it if you would do as I have done, and give him a second chance. After all, before Harry knew the truth about you, he was willing to give you the chance to tell your side of the tale. Perhaps you should take a quill out of his parchment, and o the same."
There was a pause before Sirius said softly, "Hear out Snape?"
"Or perhaps just try and understand him. You are both so alike after all."
"Alike?" spat Sirius. "I'm no more the same as him as a hippogriff is to a dragon!"
"If you put it like that," chuckled Dumbledore, "you both have claws and jaws. And ears. You use the first two so well, why not master the third?"
Sirius stood dumbstruck, not knowing whether Dumbledore was making fun of him or not, as the mirage slid back into the stone basin.
Snape was shocked. So that would explain it! The bottle of Elvish mead, the invitation to dinner. At first he had thought it was that weak woman, Molly Weasly, who was trying to make peace, but… no…
Dumbledore had planted that memory there. Snape nodded at his own conclusion. Dumbledore, and his sly ways. Never too far apart but far enough never to be expected. Dumbledore wanted Snape to stop fighting with Sirius. He wanted them to be…dare he think it…friends.
An involuntary shiver ran down his spine at the thought of it. He and Sirius. Friends. He didn't even know what the word meant!
But Dumbledore seemed to have great faith in the idea of friendship. Whatever he had planned for Harry, he certainly had something planned for that Granger and Weasley. Granger he could understand. Despite her annoying ability of reciting everything she had read in a book, at least that knowledge could come in handy. He smirked; come in handy if ever the boy needed to answer a quiz to beat the Dark Lord.
The Weasley boy – now he was a problem. If anything, he was just a whimpering coward hiding behind older siblings and better friends.
Snape caught himself. Was he implying to himself that Harry Potter actually had some potential after all?
Snape sighed. He really was tired. Laboriously he got up and walked to a solid wall of the dungeon. It had taken some persuading on Dumbledore's part to let him have this secret passage, but it was worth it to get to his bed. He swept his hand in an arch over his head and the wall melted away to reveal a green-lit tunnel. Bed sounded good. He might even be tired enough not to dream tonight.
Perhaps some of that mead would go down well with some cauldron cakes from the kitchen. Ascending the stairs, he mumbled, "I'll have to test the mead though."