Crushed but not Abandoned
The dozen or so ambulances stood in neat rows by the collapsed store, which had been packed with people not two hours ago. Two air ambulances were reserved for the most critically injured. In front of the building, the paramedics had laid out colored plastic sheeting. As each body was recovered, it was checked for signs of life and sorted by need. The crews had been working at this for an hour and a half when a man dressed in bloody black clothes was pulled out. He was clinging to life, but just barely. Quickly, the paramedics cut him out of his clothing, started IVs, and hurried him off to a waiting air ambulance. Beneath his crushed body, the rescuers had found a young woman whose body had been spared from the bulk of the damage done by the concrete chunks that had covered them both. In an hour, she would be transported to a different hospital via ground ambulance. Neither had any identification on their persons. It would be impossible to connect them to one another later. There were several other bodies recovered which had no identification. Some of them, like the man, had odd black tattoos on their left forearms. By midday the next day, all the bodies had been recovered from the site. There were hundreds injured and dozens killed, or so reported the news. The public was asked to provide information on the unknowns. Even so, some of those with those curious tattoos were never identified.
Snape was brought to the emergency room and quickly processed through radiology before being shuttled to the operating room. His left side had borne the brunt of the impacting concrete. His left hip, femur, and arm from shoulder to wrist were all broken, or shattered would have been a better description of the damage. The ribs had punctured his lung and nearly been driven through his heart. He also suffered a hairline fracture that ran from his left eye upward to the crown of his head. Fourteen hours later the Muggle surgeons emerged from putting Snape back together as best they could for the moment. Three teams had been employed to repair damage and stop the uncontrolled bleeding into his chest and head.
He remained in intensive care for four weeks, had three more surgeries, before anyone ever considered trying to wean him from the ventilator. He was known officially on the Unit as John Doe 1 of 3. The charge nurse, Amanda Wright-Jones, decided he looked nothing like a John and named him St. George the Dragonslayer. She said that John was a wimpy name in comparison to what this man had survived. She believed in his will to live. After all, she told her staff, John Doe 2 was on the Unit one week before being transferred to a general surgical ward and home. John Doe 2 had finally told them his name was Auggie McGregor. John Doe 3 had died before ever recovering consciousness. In the end, Auggie could not identify John Doe 1 since the face was still obscured by bruises, swelling, and bandages. It was, in fact, hard to tell that George was even human. His head had been shaved which also served to further obscure his identity. His hair had begun to grow back in the weeks he resided in bed #3. After he was weaned from the ventilator, he still refused to awaken. Amanda continued to talk to him as she made her rounds. The doctors decided to move George to a general ward until a bed at a long-term nursing facility center could be arranged. They did not share Amanda's hope for George's ultimate recovery even though his bones and internal injuries were mending nicely. At the beginnings and ends of her shift, Amanda would cruise by to see how George was doing. The day before he was scheduled to be sent to St Bernard's Rehabilitation Hospital, he came around. The name Amanda escaped his lips startling his caregiver. Shirley notified Amanda who raced to finally meet George.
"So, what is your name?" she wanted to know with a laugh.
Snape thought for a moment, "I don't know, George maybe?" his voice was raspy and rough, but had a hint of humor in it. His black eyes almost danced with delight.
"Do you remember what you did for a living?" she inquired.
Snape again retreated into his fuzzy mind, "I don't remember much of anything," he confessed. "I don't even remember if I have family."
"Well you did take quite a blow to your noggin. It would not be unusual to have amnesia for a while following such an injury," she consoled him. She went on, hesitantly, "Nobody came to visit you. So we all figured that 1) you had no family or 2) were from somewhere else and family did not know you were hurt. But now that you are talking, you do sound like you're from London."
Snape nodded then felt his head and face with his free right hand. The stubble on his face was unpleasant but the hair on his head was soft and fine. There was something about it that did not feel quite right to his hand. He could not put his finger on it though.
"Amanda, did I have a beard when I came in?" he wanted to know.
She laughed, "You didn't have any hair! They shaved you before surgery. Your face was so swollen that we could barely get the drops in your eyes to keep them hydrated. Now that the swelling has gone down, I suppose you could grow a beard if you wanted one."
He ran his hand across his face again, "I think that I had a beard, yes."
"Well, tomorrow you're off to the rehab center. They will help you refocus your life and get back on your feet. Who knows, you may even remember who you are," she smiled. "I'm just glad that you made it out alive. So many were not terribly hopeful that you would, you know. So many died, too."
He smiled gently, "Well, I'm glad that my nurse believed in me."
They enjoyed a moment of silence before Snape continued.
"Will you come and visit me? At the other hospital…and tell me what happened…"
Amanda cocked her head, "Sure, I think I can do that."
The social worker was not happy with Snape's answers when it came to name, birth date, and other normal particulars as she filled out forms at the new hospital. He had no real answers, and only Amanda for a visitor. By the time she arrived for her first visit, he had figured out how to feed himself without dribbling too much down his front. He knew that he did not like messes. He knew he was a tidy man. Growing the beard began to cover over scars from the accident. In the six months that Snape was at the rehab center, he and Amanda grew ever closer. When he was about to be released, he was delighted to find that Amanda was willing to turn over a spare room for his use until his memory came back. Rehab had been useless when it came to the amnesia. They had done an outstanding job of helping him to walk again and regain his natural manual dexterity. For that he was indeed grateful.
One evening when Amanda was getting ready to fix dinner for them, she asked George to chop the veggies. She was stunned as she watched his refined technique.
"Were you a chef?"
He stopped and looked carefully at what he was doing. It did seem like second nature to him. He held up a mushroom and examined it closely. It was at the edge of his memory. He felt as if it would be there any moment if only he could see it in the mushroom. He closed his eyes tightly trying to place it – the technique, the feel of plants and knives in his hands. Then he shook his head. It simply refused to be forcibly beckoned to the fore.
At last, he gave a disgusted grunt, "I don't know, Amanda. My mind is as blank as ever. I thought I almost grasped it, but it flitted away just as quickly."
She rubbed his back in consolation, "I'm sorry, George. I can only imagine that this is even more frustrating for you than for those who care about you."
He looked at her incredulously, "Care about me? Now who would that be?"
She smiled gently, "I guess that would be me. Now keep chopping."
Weeks became months and still his memory was just as gone as it had been when he first awakened. He did find that he had an interest in homeopathic medicine and was quite the master of healing herbal remedies. Amanda encouraged him to follow up with alternative approaches to healing. She had a few acquaintances in the field and made the introductions for George. Some of his potions created quite a stir in the field as they were far and away more effective than anything any other herbalist had come up with. Within six months of having made his residence the spare room of Amanda's flat, he was the leading herbalist and the fiancé to Amanda Wright-Jones. Since George had no idea of what his real last name was, he simply adopted hers, content to be somebody again. Recreating, or rather creating from scratch, an identity for a long-term victim of amnesia proved more than a little challenging, but in the end, was successful. Her friends had become his friends. All their friends came to the wedding in the chapel of her hospital. George simply stopped worrying about what his past may or may not have been. He was contented for the first time in his life.
So, five years later it came as a terrible shock to him when a young woman called to him, "Professor! Professor Snape!"
George was sitting on a park bench watching his two children playing. His elder son, Henry, was playing on the sliding board while Christian was amusing himself in a sandbox.
The young woman sat down next to him, "You remember me… Hermione Granger."
"I'm afraid you have me confused with someone else. I don't know any Professor Snape," his silky voice replied.
She had first noticed this man in an herbalist shop down the block from the Leaky Cauldron. He was buying some herbs for a potion. His appearance was significantly different, but Hermione would know that voice anywhere. His hair was a little shorter and peppered with a touch of grey; his beard was neatly trimmed; his eyes sparkled with mirth; and his clothes were casual. He looked nothing like the severe Severus Snape of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.
"Sir?" she looked puzzled.
"I'm sorry, what did you say your name was again?" he politely responded.
"Hermione. You taught me…" she paused then went on more discretely, "potions at school."
He looked puzzled, "Potions? What school? I am no teacher. I make herbal preparations for…" he handed her a business card. "Here, young woman. This is who I am and where I work."
The card read: George Wright-Jones, Herbal Medicines and Preparations, The Herb Garden and Spa, London.
"But you are Severus Snape, Potions Master formerly at Hogwarts. I'd recognize your voice anywhere!" she spoke with authority. "I saw you a few days ago at the herbal shop around the corner from the Leaky Cauldron. I wanted to speak to you then, but you moved off too quickly."
"You know me?" he looked even more confused.
"Yes, sir. In fact, a little over six years ago, you saved my life," Hermione went on.
Snape mentally withdrew for a moment. His brow furrowed as he tried to remember. Then he shook his head, "You must have me confused with someone else." It was as if he did not want to remember. He liked his life now and could have cared less what it used to be.
"It was near the end of the war," Hermione plodded on.
"What war? The one in Iraq?" he asked.
"No, the one with Voldemort," she said.
"With whom?"
"Lord Voldemort," she insisted. She reached out and touched his left arm, "You have a dark mark there. I bet it used to burn in the middle of the night. And I bet for the last three years, it has not burned at all. I bet it faded over time so you can't even see it now."
He looked at her as if she had slapped him, "How did you know that?"
"I was there when Harry put an end to Voldemort," she smiled. "After that the Death Eaters' dark marks were no longer active and began to fade."
He shoved the sleeve of his windbreaker upward and revealed a clear arm, "It used to be here," he said as he touched the spot gingerly, "I always thought it was some stupid fraternity tattoo."
Christian let out a howl and George immediately rose to see what the problem was. He picked up his young son and dusted him off. Gently, he kissed the spot where Chris pointed to as injured. Then he put him back in the sand to play again.
"Your son?" Hermione marveled.
George smiled broadly, "My son Chris. My elder son Henry," he pointed to the red head coming down the slide.
Hermione had trouble taking in a scene that included a Snape who was happy in fatherhood.
"My wife is a nurse. It's how we met actually," he went on. "You said I saved your life?"
Hermione noticed the wedding ring on his finger. It was another shock to imagine a happily married Snape. One who was living merrily in the Muggle world – no less. Ignorance truly must be bliss.
Snapping out of her reverie, "Yes. About six years ago, we were trapped in a building collapse. When I awoke, and asked about you, I was told that you were likely dead. You were not at the hospital to which I had been taken at any rate."
Snape nodded, "I remember the catastrophe when the store collapsed only through news clippings my wife saved for me. I am sorry, but I just don't remember you though… I'm truly sorry, Hermione. I was completely out of it for better than a month. It was months before I could even walk again. The whole left side of my body was broken. I have more pins and screws in me than a hardware store."
"I know. You had shielded me when the walls fell. You were on our side," she said. "I told them so. Your name was cleared of wrong doing…"
He broke in, "Wrong doing?"
"You killed Albus Dumbledore," she began.
"I did not! I have never killed anyone in my life!" he retorted. "I am a healer, not a murderer."
"Have you always been George Wright-Jones?"
Snape looked at her defiantly, "Well after the accident, I was not sure who I was. But I do know I am no killer."
Hermione could only smile, "Professor Snape, you killed the Head Master because he told you to kill him. He was dying and gave his life to protect you, Harry, and the rest of us."
He shook his head, "I'm sorry, Hermione, I do not know what you are talking about. Now you will please excuse me, it's time I get my boys and head home. I'm sorry… Truly I am."
He left Hermione on the bench and gathered his sons and headed home. After he was well out of sight and nobody was looking, Hermione apparated away.
She walked quietly up the hill to the castle. She entered the Great Hall and sat down at Minerva McGonagall's left elbow.
"I found him. He's alive," she whispered.
"Severus? Severus Snape is alive? Where on earth did you find him, dear child?" Minerva inquired.
"He's gone Muggle and lives with his wife and two sons in London," she conveyed.
"Gone Muggle? Severus? Are you quite sure?"
"He looks quite different these days. He's got a beard now and slightly shorter hair, but it's him. I thought I recognized him in a photo I glanced in a Muggle newspaper. Then I saw him in an herb shop near Diagon Alley. So I tried to find him to see if it were he. His appearance no longer looks the same, but that voice… He cannot disguise that voice of his," Hermione mused.
"So is he coming back to our world?"
"I don't think he knows anything about our world. He was badly smashed up in the battle. All his memories are gone. I'm telling you, he's gone Muggle," Hermione confided to Minerva.
Minerva pursed her lips and thought about what she had just been told, "How much did you tell him?"
"Not much…well, I did mention that he saved my life. I had hoped it would jog his memory."
"And did it?" Minerva asked.
Hermione shook her head, "I don't think so. He just left with his kids." She smiled, "He actually looked like he was enjoying being a Daddy. He really loves those kids. I wonder if they will be wizards one day…"
"Hard to say right now, my dear Hermione. Hard to say…" Minerva's voice trailed off wistfully. "I suppose if any of us deserves some measure of happiness, it would be he. What he suffered and endured…"
When Amanda came home from shopping, she found George getting dinner ready and the boys dispersed. Chris was napping in his crib. Henry was working on a puzzle in his room. The house was quiet. She stole up behind her husband and gave him a little peck on the cheek.
"Oh no, you don't. You don't get off that quickly. Give us a proper kiss," George's eyes twinkled.
He took the grocery bags from her arms and nuzzled close for a long, passionate kiss. He caressed her face with one hand while keeping the other wrapped around her waist.
"The strangest thing happened today when I had the kids out at the park," he began.
Amanda looked amused, "Do tell…go on."
"A young woman sat down by me and began to tell me she knew who I was. She thought I was some professor at a school," he held her.
"And did you remember her?" Amanda wanted to know.
George shook his head, "I can't place the face. Her voice did sound vaguely familiar though. She told me that I had saved her life when that building fell down around me."
"Well, maybe you were a teacher. You are grand with the kids, so patient and affirming. I love to watch you teach them about their world. And saving somebody does sound a lot like you," Amanda beamed her delight.
He kissed her forehead and sighed, "I just don't know. She knew about that old tattoo I used to have on my left forearm. She also told me that…"
He stopped short and put his chin on top of her head and rested it there comfortably.
Amanda let him be still for a few moments, "And…"
He looked at her deeply in the eyes, "And that I was not a nice person. She said I killed somebody. You suppose that is why I can't remember anything from my past? You think I've blocked it all out?"
Amanda shrugged, "I just know the who you are now. You are one of the kindest and most decent men I've ever known, George Wright-Jones. Leave it be if it troubles you," she paused, "She doesn't know where we live, does she?"
"You think she's a stalker?"
"I don't know. I do know that I'd kill to keep you and our sons safe!" Amanda declared.
"Ah, my beautiful, fierce, protective lioness," George smiled and stroked her face lovingly. "I love you, Amanda. I love my sons. I promise you that I'm not going back to wherever I came from. I'm staying here with you!"
A nightmare awakened Snape with a jolt. In his dream, he saw an older man being blown backwards away from him. He saw him fall. He saw himself running away. Amanda tried to comfort him. Once his breathing returned to normal, he returned her love.
He found himself slipping back into the past as he prepared ingredients for the store. As he chopped the leaves, he saw a dark workbench in a gloomy room. He squeezed his eyes tightly willing it away. A whiff of sulfur sent him back in time, too. That young woman, what was her name, was impinging on his life in the here and now. He had to find her and tell her to leave him alone. He marched down to the herbal shop where she indicated that she'd seen him before. He did not find her. He asked the clerk if he'd seen her. Indeed, she frequented the shop once a month. In fact, George had just missed her by an hour. He directed him to the Leaky Cauldron. Perhaps he could find her there.
The Leaky Cauldron was an interesting pub – a throw back to medieval days thought George. It gave him the creeps as he looked around at some of the patrons. He also found he was quite self-conscious. They seemed to have taken notice of him.
"What'll it be, Mate?" asked the bar keep.
George paused, "Let me have some red wine, please."
His voice attracted some attention. The crowd parted and there she stood – that girl who had wrecked his peaceful life.
"Come with me, Professor," she motioned to a booth along the wall.
He looked around the room carefully, took his glass, and followed her. Another woman was already in the booth. Minerva McGonagall smiled happily to see her old friend.
"I see what you mean, Hermione. He certainly does look different. But that voice of his…" then she turned to George, "Welcome back, Severus. Please have a seat."
"What did you call me? Who are you?" his face was contorted with concern, curiosity, and a touch of fear.
McGonagall smiled, "Minerva McGonagall, Headmistress of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. You are Potions Master Severus Snape, formerly of Hogwarts until the war…"
"This is not making any sense at all!" he exclaimed.
"Your memory was damaged in the last battle you fought. You were hit in the head and seem to have forgotten who and what you are," she continued calmly.
"What I am?" he looked puzzled.
"You are a wizard, a very powerful one at that. And we want you back," McGonagall started.
Before she could finish, George pushed away, "You people are crazy. I'm leaving!"
He raced out the door and down the street. He could not get to the Underground Station fast enough. He kept looking back to see if they were following him or not. It seemed they were not. George began to feel like he was returning to some sense of normalcy. He looked furtively around before getting off three stops after his regular stop. As he walked home, he kept looking back to make sure he was not followed. He was unsure if he would tell Amanda or not. Would she think him crazy, too?
He said very little during dinner. He did manage to help with feeding Chris who was in his "always on the go" phase. The child would swoop by, Dad would shovel food into his open mouth, and off the boy would go again. As they got ready for bed, Amanda decided to address his unusual quietness.
"George, Love, what is it?"
He looked at her, toothbrush in mouth, and shook his head. He finished what he was doing.
"I ran into that woman again. She had an older woman with her who pretty well told me that I was one of them. They called me by a very different sounding name and said I used to teach where they were now…"
"Hmm…what do you make of that?" Amanda wondered aloud. She stroked her husband's face and tenderly drew her fingers through his hair.
"I think they want me to go back and teach potions," he answered.
"And what do you want to do?" Amanda asked, looking him in the eyes.
"I want to go on with my life as it is now. I don't care what I used to do or what I used to be," he started.
"What you used to be?" Amanda mirrored.
He drew her close and sat on the bed with her, "Can you believe it! The older one said I was a wizard."
"A wizard?" Amanda laughed. "I'll say you are a wizard. You make love to me and transport me to the moon!"
She grabbed him and kissed him. They fell back across the bed and took delight in one another.
Again in the middle of the night, Snape found himself in his potions class. He saw Harry, Ron, and Hermione. He looked hard at Hermione who jumped at the extra attention.
"Professor, did I do something wrong?" she wanted to know.
George could hear the fear in her voice and was taken aback. Then he heard his own voice calling her an insufferable know-it-all. He saw himself make whatever Harry had in his cauldron disappear. He also saw the look of intense hatred in Harry's eyes. Then he awoke in a sweat. He looked over at Amanda who remained asleep. He stole out of bed only to hear Amanda moan.
"Going to check on the boys. Thought I heard something… Go back to sleep, my Love," he said silkily.
The boys were sound asleep. George returned to the kitchen and made himself some tea. Then he quietly returned to bed and hoped for no more dreams. He snuggled in next to his Amanda, burying his face in her curly strawberry blonde hair. He bestowed a soft kiss to the back of her neck. He thought he heard her give him a little moan of approval before he drifted back off to sleep.
A knock rapped on the Wright-Jones' home. It insisted on being answered. Amanda peeked out the window to see an older woman dressed in a deep green tartan cape standing on her front porch. She looked around for anyone else. There was not another soul on the quiet side street where they lived. Amanda was guessing that the woman was not some religious nut since she carried nothing in her hands. So she decided to hear what she wanted. Amanda opened the door and stepped onto the porch with Minerva McGonagall.
"May I help you?" Amanda offered.
McGonagall smiled pleasantly and nodded, "Certainly, my dear. My name is Minerva McGonagall. I believe your husband formerly worked at my school."
"Yes, George said something about that," Amanda was apprehensive. "Care to elaborate?"
"Care to let me in so we can be more comfortable than out here on the porch?" McGonagall responded kindly.
Amanda weighed her options. She could tell the woman to get lost. She could let her in. She could continue the conversation out here. In the end, manners dictated that they go indoors.
"Tea?" offered Amanda.
"Thank you," McGonagall began. "Allow me…" with a flick of her wand, the tea was made and brought forward to them in the sitting room.
Amanda just sat there dumbfounded. Her tea began to cool as she simply stared at McGonagall.
Then she found her voice, "If I'd not seen it with my own eyes in my own home, I'd not have believed it."
McGonagall smiled gently, "You husband comes from my world – the wizarding world. It's a good bet that your children are also wizards and the little one you are carrying now will be a lovely witch."
Amanda was doubly stunned. When she had recovered a bit of her sanity, she managed to get her jaw to return to its proper place.
"How did you know I am pregnant?"
McGonagall just smiled kindly.
"I only suspected it today. The test is still in the bath trash," Amanda began to raise her defenses. "Who the hell are you!"
"I am the Headmistress of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Your husband was on our faculty for many years before the accident that seems to have erased his memory," McGonagall explained.
Amanda sat spellbound.
"Do you love him?" McGonagall wanted to know. "Even if he's a wizard?"
"Of course, I love my husband!" Amanda was defiant. "And what the hell is a wizard anyhow?"
"We are magical people, just as human as you. Severus is perhaps one of the most human wizards I've ever known," McGonagall gave a little laugh.
"What did you call him?"
"Your husband's name is Severus Snape. He is a Potions Master in our world. Did you never wonder how he could produce such effective healing potions?" McGonagall mentioned as she sipped her tea. "Or brew the most wicked pot of tea?" she chuckled.
"We figured he was a homeopathic healer before the accident," Amanda responded.
"Oh, he was much more than that," McGonagall began. "But before I tell you more, do you love him and will you stay with him?"
"I am not leaving him nor is he leaving me!" Amanda's back was up now.
"What I am about to tell you about Severus is not especially pleasant information, but you need to know it before his memory returns of its own accord," McGonagall spoke.
Amanda was tentative, "Go on…"
"Before the accident, well, it was no accident. My world was at war with itself. There was a dark wizard named Voldemort who wished to harm your world in every possible way. We refer to non-magical people as Muggles. Voldemort hated Muggles with an intensity not seen in recent history. He hated half-bloods and magical children born to Muggles even more. He saw them as a threat of some kind. Your husband, Severus, stood with Voldemort at one point in his life. However, before he got too deeply into the Dark Lord's side, he had a change of heart. Severus witnessed Voldemort kill a woman whom Severus had loved and respected. Thus, he appealed to Albus Dumbledore for protection in exchange for his service to the Light. Albus took him in and made him a spy for us. Just before Voldemort's attack on that building, Severus tried to block it. He had a few of our Order with him as he confronted three times the number of Death Eaters, Voldemort's army. He lost the battle and nearly his life. It was years before we discovered he was even alive. By that time, Severus had settled in here with you and your children."
"And now you want him back?" Amanda was incredulous. "You want me to agree for him to go back to the life of a spy and possibly get him killed? You are crazy! Get out of my house!
McGonagall shook her head, "No you misunderstand me. The war is over. There is no more need for a spy. And he was quite an excellent one, I might add."
Amanda's eyes narrowed, "No, you cannot have him!"
"That's not up to you, Amanda," McGonagall started, "That is up to Severus."
"His name is George now," said a silky voice from the doorway of the sitting room.
McGonagall twisted around to see Snape standing in the doorway.
"And what if he is happy where he is?" he said softly. "What if he loves his wife and children? Maybe he does not want to return to being the greasy git or the bat of the dungeon."
Amanda was shocked.
McGonagall nodded, "Welcome back, Severus."
"Minerva," he nodded.
"We want you back, Severus," Minerva said softly. "Hogwarts needs you. Our community needs you."
"Why? The community abandoned me in that wreck of a building," he was sour.
"We thought you had died like so many others. There were dozens killed in the attack whose bodies were unidentifiable," she answered. "If we had known, we'd have taken you straight away to St. Mungo's."
"Well, you did not. As a result, I lost my memory for six years and have a family that I am very attached to," he returned, sounding harsh.
"Love, when did your memory come back?" asked Amanda.
He looked at her soulfully, "It's been coming back bit-by-bit since I…since Hermione met me on the park bench. I've been reliving it in nightmares almost nightly. The last piece fell into place this afternoon while I was preparing a potion for a client."
Amanda rose and strode across the floor to stand in front of Snape who tucked her under his arm. He was tense, every muscle ready to fight.
"It's quite likely that our sons will be what I am," he looked into her eyes. "It runs in families."
"And our daughter," she said with a little pat to her flat stomach.
Amanda felt his body go limp as he sighed. His forehead came to rest on hers. He rubbed his nose against hers then kissed her nose tenderly.
"Amanda, my Love," he whispered, "How much do you love me?"
She put her head on his chest and listened to the thumping of his heart. It was beating fast and hard.
"Don't be afraid," she whispered back, "I'm not leaving you. I am with you always."
She sensed his calm returning.
"I was not a very good man in that previous life I led," he started.
"You are the man you are today. You are not the man you were yesterday," Amanda counseled. "I married George. Why not go on being George Wright-Jones if you don't like this Severus person? We always knew that your memory might come back and things might change that way. I was always afraid that you might remember you had a wife somewhere else!"
"I have enemies," he kissed her forehead softly. "But no wife somewhere else."
"Enemies, so what? We have faced worse."
"You don't understand," he spoke looking into her eyes, "My enemies could be dangerous to you and the children. I can't have that."
"I'm not accepting that as Gospel, George," Amanda flatly stated.
He sighed deeply and held her closely, "See what you have done, Minerva."
"Severus, you cannot live with one foot in the Muggle world and one in our world," she offered gently. "Now that you remember who you are, you've got to come to terms with that. If we, your friends in the Order, could find you, you know that your enemies can find you as well."
"And how long do you plan on leaving me in Azkaban?" he vocalized.
"Azkaban?" McGonagall repeated. "Why on earth would we put you in Azkaban?"
"I killed the Head Master," he reminded her.
"Yes, you did. But it was on a wizard's life debt. We found his pensieve," McGonagall responded.
"I'm not proud of who I was. I like who I am now," he stood defiantly looking at his former colleague. "I treated most people quite badly as I recall."
She gave a little laugh, "Yes, Severus, you did. It was a key element in the part you played. Your occlumency skills kept us all at a distance. If you had not, you would not have survived a minute in Voldemort's presence."
"Minerva, I'm not Severus any longer," he spoke silkily. "I'm George Wright-Jones, a homeopathic pharmacist and healer."
"You are both George and Severus," she reminded him. "You don't need to be the bat of the dungeon any more, if you don't want. You can bring your family to Hogwarts, if you like. The old rules no longer apply now that Voldemort is gone for good. Besides, your sons and daughter will be there soon enough. Or you could take a teaching position at St. Mungo's, if you'd prefer. The point is you need to be back with us, and we need you."
"Amanda and I will need to discuss this before I can give you an answer," Snape finally responded.
"Very well," she rose and wrapped her traveling cloak back around herself. "I will owl you later. You can respond then," turning to Amanda, "I'm so glad that you love Severus. I can see that you are and have been the imaginable best medicine for him."
She apparated away with a pop, leaving Amanda holding her husband closer than ever.
"What will you do now that you know who and what you are?" Amanda and Severus/George walked arm-in-arm up to bed.
"You mean what will we do, my Love," he cautioned her. "I lived in dread that one day I'd figure out who I was. I was always a little afraid I'd be a, I dunno, a bad guy. It turns out that's exactly what I am. I am a very bad man."
"Rubbish!" she retorted. "You are a very good man, George."
"Am I?" he wondered. "Am I George or am I Severus?"
"You're both," her voice moderated.
He ran his hand through his hair and sat on the chair near the bed. He let his head droop as he looked at his feet with non-interest. His forearms rested upon his legs. Then, he looked at his hands with renewed interest.
"These hands took a life," he remarked with some horror on his face. "I saw myself ridiculing my students, time and time again."
Amanda bent down and knelt by her husband and took his hands into hers, "These hands brought life into the world. These hands prepare medicines to make others comfortable and well. These hands bring me great joy."
He looked into her eyes with wonder, "How can you love a man like me?"
"Silly boy," she moved closer. "How could I not love you! You are my St. George the Dragonslayer. You lived when nobody thought you would. You fought back. If it had not been in you when you were hurt, then it would not be in you now."
His eyes looked pitifully pained.
"George or Severus, or whatever you end up calling yourself, I know the man you are today. The man who brought others grief was transformed in my hospital. He is not a bad man any longer," she consoled him.
He cupped her face in his hands and drew nearer. His lips brushed against hers, "What would I be without you?" he whispered against her cheek. "I am who I am today because you loved me. You took a huge chance on me. For all you knew, I could have been an axe murderer or Jack the Ripper. If you polled my former students, I should think they'd have told you that is exactly who you chose to live with."
Amanda chuckled almost to herself, "I think you are being too hard on yourself."
She stood up and drew him to herself. She took him to the bed and turned down the sheets. Slowly, she caressed away the pain one more time.
"We'll deal with it in the morning."
Morning found Amanda making breakfast when Snape shuffled down and stood behind his wife.
"I think I have to go back and make peace at least with the people I hurt," he said as he kissed her neck. "Smells wonderful," he patted her tummy playfully.
He grabbed a cup of tea and took a few sips before putting it on the counter and wrapping his arms around Amanda.
"So Minerva thinks we are pregnant, does she?" he nibbled at her ear.
She smiled and leaned toward him, "Says it's a girl."
"Well I hope she looks like you and not me!" he laughed.
"It's good to hear you laugh again," she looked at him over her shoulder. "But I like the way you look, so it really doesn't matter." She returned her attention to the eggs in the pan.
"I think you need glasses, my Love," he teased as he slid bread into the toaster.
"Kids still asleep?"
"Chris is, but Henry is playing in his room. I stuck my nose in there on the way down," he lifted the toast onto a plate and buttered it quickly. He munched a corner off one and offered another to Amanda.
"Mmm. Thanks," she said as the eggs were turned onto plates.
"The bacon is in the micro," she directed him.
"Thought I smelled it," he lifted out the pieces and distributed them to their plates.
"Enjoy the quiet," she smiled. "It may be a while before we get more."
He leaned over and kissed her, "Have I told you how much I love you?"
"Oh not for the past eight hours, no," a wide smile graced her face.
He leaned back in the chair and appraised his wife, "I don't know what I'd do without you and the kids."
"Sure you do. You'd have done what you did before we were in your life," she replied.
"Exactly what I mean," he took another bite of bacon. "It was not a very fulfilling life, if I recall it right. I was angry all the time and down right mean to people who cared about me."
"It sounded as if you pretty well had your hands full though. That's enough to make anybody snarky," she said. "Your friend Minerva said you were a spy for some Order?"
He gave half a chuckle and nodded, "Yes, and you know how snarky I can be." He continued, "The Order of the Phoenix. We were the good guys and the Dark Lord and his Death Eaters were the bad guys. You remember that tattoo I used to have when we first married?"
She nodded, "You thought it was from university. Some fraternity initiation thing. But it's been gone for, what two or three years now? Odd how it just faded away over time."
"Something like that," he looked at his plate. "It was no fraternity though. I was a Death Eater before Albus Dumbledore took me in. And I killed him."
"Will you ever get over that?" Amanda sounded annoyed. "His death was explained to my satisfaction."
"But not to mine," he was bitter. "Not to mine. I was there, you know. It was the single worst moment of my life, bar none. For that I should pay."
"You already have," she looked up. "You gave up over six years of life and memory…"
"Did I?" he had a sardonic look on his face; his old sneer had returned. "I gave up nothing but a few months in hospital. I got, in return, a real life, one that makes me unbelievably happy. I got everything I did not deserve and more besides."
"Okay," she started. "I understand that you feel guilty. That's okay. But it's time to move past that. You have responsibilities to the children and me. You cannot spend too much time throwing yourself a pity party for something that you had precious little control over to begin with."
He stopped eating and drank in her words.
"I remember what you looked like in that bed in room #3. You were smashed up so badly that you hardly looked like a human being. You have paid for whatever sins you committed. Move on, dammit, move on," she chided him. "By the way, what am I supposed to call you now? Are you George or are you Severus?"
He hunched over the table and scooted some eggs around on his plate. He continued to stare at the plate. Finally, he rested the fork on the side of it and looked up, leaning back in the chair.
"I guess I am both. I guess I have to live with what I did and who I am today," he said flatly. "Will you love me at Hogwarts?"
"I can adapt to anything as long as you are there," she reassured him.
"Then I should answer that owl at the window," he smiled slightly with one eyebrow arched.
He brought the bird in and untied the note that had been attached to his leg, "Owl post. It's the way wizards communicate with one another. This must be Minerva's letter. She must have inherited the Head Master's uncanny sense of timing."
"She sounds like a fascinating woman," Amanda watched as Severus removed the letter and read it. "Will I get to know her?"
"Um-hum," he mumbled absent-mindedly. "It says here that I am being offered my old post as Potions Master at Hogwarts. I have also been offered a Potions Master and Healer's post at St. Mungo's."
"What is St. Mungo's?"
"It's the wizard hospital in London."
She nodded wondering if anything would ever go back to what had been normal before her husband's mind came back to him.
"Which do you want, Love?"
"Better question is what is better for us as a family?" he replied.
"You tell me about both offers then. We can decide together," she looked him in the eyes.
"Hogwarts is a full-time teaching post. It's what I did before we met. I was cross all the time and enjoyed harassing and intimidating my students. I played favorites to the never-ending dismay of the classes. They called me names like greasy git and bat of the dungeon. I was nobody's favorite teacher; rather I was the school boogeyman. I was thoroughly unlovable," he said as honestly as possible. "On the positive side, I think you would love the grounds as would the children. There is a half-giant named Hagrid. He's twice the size of a normal man, but he's harmless really. He's a big 'softie' when it comes to the students. His real flaw is that he likes to keep dangerous creatures about the grounds. He used to scare the hell out of me that one of his 'pets' would get loose and eat a student."
All Amanda could do was grin and shake her head in disbelief.
"The St. Mungo's job would be more research and practical application of that research. I could live out here in the Muggle world as we do now. You would go to your hospital and I to mine. Little would really change," he added. "Hogwarts might ask me to teach potions seminars for N.E.W.T. level students. I think I could handle that."
"N.E.W.T.?"
"Sorry, it's a language all its own," he laughed. "Not to worry, I'll teach it to you. But first I've got lots of crow to eat and apologies to make."
A rap at the window announced another owl's arrival. Snape let the next bird in. In its beak was a wrapped article.
"Now what?" he wondered aloud.
He knew by the feel of it what lay inside the brown wrapping paper. Carefully, he removed it and unwrapped it. He ran his fingers over it lovingly. He rolled it around in his long fingers and then smelled it. Snape savored the sensuality of it.
"My wand," he showed Amanda. "Every wizard or witch has one. Olivander used to say that the wand chooses the wizard," he smiled reflexively. "When you are thrown out of the community or die, your wand is broken. Once my memory returned, I guessed that mine was broken in the battle that brought us together. I now see that is not the case."
"Then I guess you have not been thrown out," Amanda gave a smile. "I want you to know that this is going to take some getting used to…"
She hugged her husband whose arms were wrapped tightly around her while he admired the wand in his hand.