Another one-shot written for the Creative Game n°13 "Un anno di sorrisi per Severus (A year of smiles for Severus)" of the Italian forum "Il Calderone di Severus". Translated in English for you.

I do not own Harry Potter and I am not a native English speaker.

Hope you enjoy ^^

You've got a family, Severus

Albus Dumbledore was slowly making his way along the empty corridors of the castle. The students were attending classes, and in any case he was not in the mood for social relations, at that time, both with his teachers and with the children. He passed through in silence, as if he had always been there, like a ghost returning to a house that he had never really left. An old phantom who at that time just wanted to get to his office, high up in the tower, and enjoy a little the warmth that the flames of the fireplace could give him.

He had been away from those stone walls for a few months, but it really seemed an eternity to him. It was as if someone had ripped out the very heat from his body. That was his home, his family. His students, his boys. He had abandoned them, in some way. He had left to protect them, but leaving he had abandoned them. His warmth, and the warmth of those faces, of the continuous chatter, of the boys' laughter, it remained there, and to him was nothing left but the cold and he watched in silence from far away.

A thoughtfully spectator. Not an indifferent spectator, mind you, but nevertheless a quiet one: a ghost, a memory. A figure who watches from above and does not show, like a haughty and aloof god. That he had been for his kids and his teachers. He had left them only their own faith in him and nothing else. He had forsaken them, without they knowing if he would come back, if he would help them, when he would returned... he had simply asked them to hope and believe in him and they had. As always.

The big stone gargoyle watched him for a moment before jumping aside, but Dumbledore almost did not notice it, too busy with his own thoughts to see the way opening to him. His feet rested on the first step of the long spiral staircase, then on the second and third, the fourth, the fifth. He slid along the spiral stone. He turned around the corner — not a real corner in fact — precluding the view of the entrance to the staircase. And then, he stopped for a moment.

Albus passed with obsequies a wrinkled hand on the rough stones of the castle. The caress of an old man to someone even older and venerable, and yet needy as a child.

He sighed deeply, leaning against the stone with all his weight. A reciprocal lean of two sages suddenly dried up of all their strength. In those months the headmaster had shared the emotions of his school. Like the castle, he had remained silent to observe, not daring to intervene. And he understood, then, that some things are best left to the thousand-year old castles. Albus Dumbledore must take care of his boys. He must not abandon them. He had left Harry alone that year. He truly believed to protect him, but he had done more harm than if he had stayed beside the boy to encourage him. He had professed himself as a guide to the boy and then he had avoided him like he was affected by a contagious illness; he had escaped his eyes and left him alone when he knew very well that Harry needed him.

He had left school for the same reason: to protect the boy. And to protect a boy he had left alone all the others. He had left his school in the hands of a wolf disguised as a woman. He had left his teachers without a guide. And with what results? Harry had almost died, Minerva had ended up at St. Mungo's, and Severus had been alone to hold the reins of his intrigues. His. Albus Dumbledore's. Severus had been alone against the whole school, except for his Slytherins. And not only the school.

He slightly scratched his frowned forehead in a weary gesture. He had not thought of Severus when he left. He had not thought what weight would be passed on the boy's shoulders. In the spur of the moment his mind was focused on one thing: to protect Harry. Severus had been put away in the background as too often happened. He should have considered Severus. He should have considered that he was leaving the boy without a reference point in the school. And then, after Minerva had been wounded...

"Deep thoughts, Headmaster?"

Albus spun around. His hand slid slowly down the cold stone wall, as he was taking his leave, while his eyes sparkled in catching the dark shape of the Potions Master standing a few steps below him. Crikey, he was so focused on his vagabonds thoughts that he had not even noticed that the old guard, down there at the stairs bottom, had allowed someone else to pass. And that someone else was the one person he was not entirely prepared to deal with.

Dumbledore smiled sweetly. "Ah, Severus, my boy," he took a deep breath, "I was just catching my breath. Come on, help this poor old man to reach his office, so he can offer you a cup of tea and have a chat with you."

He stretched his arm toward him, but to his surprise, Severus stood some steps below observing him with a grim expression.

"The Minister had been persuaded in the end", said Severus. He had come up from the dungeons just to check that the Headmaster had already taken possession of his rightful throne. He had not even the faintest idea of what to say, he had just come to see him and did not expect to find himself before him halfway.

Albus looked at him for a moment in silence, then nodded firmly with his head and said: "Yes. Thanks to Tom himself. And indirectly, thanks to Harry too."

"You risked a lot this year, Headmaster. You gambled until the last moment. Things here at school began to get out of my hand. You might realize that you left me here to deal alone with the Dark Lord and that kind of sugared almond woman. And I have to keep an eye on Potter's ballets at same time. And let me say that Black's last idiocy was indeed the cherry I needed", Severus said, raising an eyebrow. He was pulling out random words, and he knew it, but then he could not fully rearrange his thoughts. Those few who were still in line had started running back and forth as soon as the figure of the old Headmaster had appeared in front of him.

Even Dumbledore's bushy eyebrows rose, as he lowered his head slightly to peer at Severus over his half-moon glasses.

"Severus, you may not noticed, but we're talking on a spiral staircase", he said, smiling. "Come, let's climb up. It's getting cold and I don't think this is the right place for this kind of talk. Come on", he added soon after, but again, Severus gave no sign of wanting to reach him.

"You will excuse me, Headmaster, but I have work to do," said Snape.

"And welcome back, Headmaster," he added afterward flatly, as if the words did not keep any meaning and they were only a grinding background noise.

Dumbledore realized the emptiness of those words. He could not escape: he could only let them rest on him without being perceived, leaving no heat or frost. Nothing. Emptiness. And loneliness.

Albus saw Severus moving slightly. He did not want him to leave. He wanted to talk with him now that he would have to face him anyway. Albus stopped Severus just before he turned completely his black-clad back on him.

"Severus..." he called gently, trying to attract the attention of the young man who he had left alone for months, who he had abandoned like a child left without a guide. Severus stopped, but his gaze did not move back on the Headmaster.

Dumbledore's eyes grew dark. "I'm sorry I left you alone, Severus. I hoped, I thought of doing the right thing by leaving."

"Well, apparently it was not, Headmaster," said Severus harshly leaving Albus no time to catch his breath, and he turned toward him.

Albus nodded wearily lowering his gaze in the act. "Yes, Severus. I was wrong. I just wanted to protect Harry. I did not want him to end up in trouble because of me. Because of the faith he has in me", he said almost in a whisper raising his eyes again on Snape.

Severus' expression, for a moment, seemed to soften, but not under the gentle massage of satisfaction, but of a sadness that seemed to peek through those carbon black eyes.
"Potter is not the only one to have faith in you," said Severus heavily. "Love for loyalty. Too bad that this works only for a select few", he said harshly.

Dumbledore's eyes softened at his words, but the sweetness was no help in chasing away the sadness and guilt he felt. The bitter also polluted sugar at that moment. He looked Severus carefully, knowing very well what the boy was telling him hidden behind the acrimonious tone of those words.

Albus looked at him sadly, pondering those words hurled at him like poisoned spikes. Accusations that hurt. For he had no defence, he could not deny them.

"Severus, my love for Harry is not a reward for his loyalty. I love that kid for what he is. You see, Severus, we are loved for what we are, not for what we give", he said, forcing a faint smile on his face, the only one weak enough for his will to be able to bend it. He saw Snape's chest rise and fall under the pressure of a sigh before the professor put a foot on the next step and began to climb toward him.

"Clear," Severus said almost sadly when he was only one step away from Albus. "I really need another one of your pearls of wisdom, Headmaster."

Dumbledore pointed his blue eyes into the black ones, confronting the darkness and pain that he saw clearly floating on those dark waters.

"I did not mean what you think I meant by those words," Albus said quietly, "I meant the exact opposite, you see."

"Severus, you've love and respect from me," he added softly. The chill the young man's eyes seemed melt a little into heavy drops of dew when the heat of those words reached those dark nights as the first shy and generous rays of dawn. "Whatever happens. I may be an old fool, but I'll never abandon you or Harry", Dumbledore said.

Severus's eyes grew dark again. "You know, for some reason, your last statement sounds very much hypocritical, Dumbledore," said the professor sharply.

Dumbledore could not help but nod in front of the observation. His mouth made a slight grimace, then he answered, "Even if it was, that does not mean that I do not really believe it. Or that I do not want it to come true."

Severus was silent. He looked away from the Headmaster letting his eyes wander over the gray stones of the stair.

"Severus..." said Dumbledore gently, trying to catch again the attention of the young man. "You and Harry ... I love you both, equally and in equal measure, for the worthy boys you are, not for what you do for me", he said taking a short step toward the young man dressed in black whose eyes still wandered on the wall that embraced the stone spiral stair.

"Severus?" Albus tried again, this time Snape turned slowly toward him, his eyes again as hard as flint.

"Is it true?" he asked sharply.

Dumbledore frowned, his expression became more severe. "I do not think so meanly of me, Severus. Of course it is", he said.

"I do not know what to with your 'I love you', Albus," Severus replied, "I'd never known what to with the people's 'I love yous'. The only thing I have always understood is that those words are always a lie. They're the kind of words that people hide behind; the excuse for any cruelty or neglect. So do not tell me 'I love you'."

Dumbledore looked at him in silence while Severus said those words, and saw in his eyes the reflection of memories and past experiences that lingered in the black irises as mocking ghosts, scars of wounds never healed.

"You can give your honeyed lies to Potter, but not to me," Severus continued. "Guzzle your chump with these sweet-talks of yours: he's a naive kid who believe anything which is provided with he is given the illusion of having found a family. Give them to Potter: he would need to soothe now that he has lost his beloved dogfather. But do not believe that you can still deceive me with such nonsense."

And with those words, Severus turned around and climb down in a hurry along the spiral staircase disappearing from the Headmaster's gaze.

Dumbledore stood a moment still standing on the staircase, silent and thoughtful.

"What are you trying to tell me, Severus?" he asked in a whisper that only the stones could hear.

The boy was obviously upset for being left alone, and he was right. Albus would never want to force him to check all the threads of the complicated web that grew wider in the school that year. Severus had to play his part in front of so many spectators, each calling for a different character and he had to indulge all of them, in silence, each time wearing a different mask. A change of character so fast to be difficult even for a consummate actor as Severus was. But that was not the point. It was not the difficulty in carrying out his task which had deeply hurt Severus: it was him.

That allusion to the family was not the usual mockery against Harry. Perhaps even Severus did not know, but it was something deeper. Something going deep down in the heart of the Potions teacher and coming back together with an atavistic desire which was the same as Harry.
The family was an illusion, Albus knew it, but it was a beautiful illusion after all, in a world where men are alone. Some had the good fortune to live always in that illusion, others were thrown into the reality of life with very little regard.

He sighed wearily for the umpteenth time, rousing. You are still standing on a spiral staircase, Albus. And your feet are beginning to freeze. In fact, your fingers too.

Dumbledore chuckled softly as he turned and began to climb the stairs toward his office. He had just had an idea. One of those that Severus showed not to appreciate, but not for this they were of no help. And still had make amends somehow. After all that closing in on himself for many months, the boy needed something that would open his heart a little.

Severus got back into his office, closing the door behind him with little grace. He did not lie to Dumbledore: he really had work to do, only, it was not so urgent and now that the Headmaster was finally returned to his place he could resume his work more calmly. Finally. Everything was back to the usual, daily school routine, even for a few days more. Then the summer would come and at least he would not have had to do with Potter. And that, at least, was a nice thought.

He walked to the dark desk. He just needed a little time for himself and nothing else. It had been a... particular year. Without a doubt. Thinking about, there was indeed an interesting thing about that year: he would finally get rid of Potter, Weasley and Neville Longbottom. Needless to say they certainly had not obtained Outstanding in their OWLs.

Severus grinned. That thought had managed to remove from his mind also the earlier meeting with the Headmaster.

He walked around the desk while taking off the long black cloak and placing it on the back of the walnut chair, before sitting down heavily. He leaned on one side to open the top drawer to his right. He took out a big folder of parchment held together by a paper wrapper. OWLs Potions tests. No better diversion than reading the students' idiocies, but especially to carve the Gryffindors' tests with... disgraceful letters.

Severus removed the band with elegance and barely had time to read the name on the first parchment that the fireplace coughed a green flame. An unusual green flame, for it did not accompany anyone in its blaze. Not someone, in fact, but something.

Severus watched amazed at what appeared to be an envelope or a piece of parchment fluttering for a moment, still lapped by little tongues of smoke. He watched it make a final pirouette in the air before laying down gracefully on the carpet.

Snape stood up, then, making those two steps that separated him from whatever was just come out of the fireplace, and leaned on it.

It was a photo.

An old magic picture ruined all around its sides.

Severus took carefully it in his fingers, analyzing it. It was an old photo, of a few years before, of Minerva, Albus and he himself. Minerva stood between the two of them, smiling, and Albus smiled too, his blue eyes sparkling even in black and white. Needless to say, on the face of the Severus in the photo there was no smile, or maybe what might seem an unsuccessful attempt to smile.

But it was not the people in the picture to capture the attention of the real Severus, now standing next to the desk with the picture in his hands, but a writing. Two sentences written in haste on the photo in a slanting handwriting he knew very well, there was no need to read the name in the signature:

You've got a family, Severus. Do not forget it.
Albus.

That crazy old man...?!

Severus found himself unable to formulate any question, though there were many of them swirling in his mind, but they were so elusive, blocked by those words written in a hurry on a picture sent as much quickly.

And if the young Severus in the said picture could not smile, the real Severus took over the duty. Duty, yes, because at that moment Severus could not and would not avoid smiling. He had to feel his lips curl into something different from a simple and unpleasant grimace. He had to smile. Just smile.

Oh yes, the Headmaster was back indeed.

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