AUTHORS NOTE:

One night while admiring the brilliance that is Sauvage-Art cosplay/photomanips on Deviantart dot com I came across this beauty that really triggered feelings. (Original image: sauvage-art dot deviantart dot com/art/Lumos-Severus-Snape-465869260 ) I saw a desperate Snape looking at his wand light like it was the only thing grounding him in his turmoil. I hadn't foreseen any other character involved but as I wrote, Draco being the stunning little peckerhead he is, crept in and made Snape a bit more fatherly than I had planned. Oh well. One shots are awesome because they just explode into your brain and you fervently try to capture all you can in one go and get it down before the inspiration leaves you. There is no time to argue with Malfoy during such an event!

I'll be writing quite a few more one-shots than I've done in the past as I try to write ahead in my next long fic. Hopefully they will keep you amazingbeautifuldevotedsupportive fans sated as I scramble to get chapters produced and edited before posting them.

Another shout out to Sauvage-Art, (I think I'm in love!) for recreating the perfect Snape and being so amazing at making costumes, props, and expressions. I'm blown away every time! There is amazing -and super sexy- photomanips and HANDS DOWN the best Cosplay I've experienced (Yes. These creations are experiences if you are willing to dive in and immerse yourself.) Check them out at sauvage-art dot deviantart dot com/

*End of gushing and rant*

A shadow moved on the Hogwarts grounds under the crescent moon. It moved swiftly through the brisk autumn air to its destination, a secret passage near the Slytherin dungeons. If someone had been watching from the Astronomy tower they may have the flash of white flesh concealed in all the black. If someone had been hiding in the bushes or rock garden near the castle entrance they would have seen the uncharacteristic display of emotion. Severus Snape was in fact hurting. It wasn't the almost normal pain of overexerted nerves due to the Cruciatus curse, though there had been plenty of that. Instead the pain was emotional. A prone Draco Malfoy –covered with a thick black robe and a conjured blanket just as dark- hovered behind him and trailed the Potions master into the castle. Tonight's meeting had proved more taxing than those in the past.

~PREVIOUSLY~

He found himself prostrate on the ground once again. Kissing the hems of the Dark Lord, HIS Dark Lord. He had to think it in these circumstances. To be discovered at a moment like this would mean a painfully drawn out death. Severus knew his power rivaled that of his supposed master but it was a hidden knowledge. To serve year after year, tasting the dust that stirred as that monster walked by slowly stole away his inner light. He knew it. Albus knew it. Albus. The man had given him a second chance and saved him from himself but he had also used him as a carpenter does a tool. It was in his right as savior but still left a bitter taste behind once his manipulation was realized.

Despite his best efforts he winced as Draco screamed. He had failed to properly advance since the last meeting and now felt the displeasure of the Dark Lord. Draco Malfoy had been given the dark mark during the past summer. As his godfather it was partially his responsibility to see that life ran as smoothly as possible. Of course, it would have been easier if he hadn't pledge himself to a madman first chance he got. How had Lucius led him so astray? (Then again Lucius had dug himself into the same hole. He had landed himself in Azkaban for his follies.) How had he, as Godfather, allowed it? How could he have prevented it, honestly? There were some decisions that had to be personally chosen or rebelled against. Still, in the quiet hours Severus couldn't help but wonder what he might have done to change the outcome.

When Draco's raw screams had stopped echoing off the stone walls around them an arctic voice rang out.

"Sssseverusss."

"My Lord?" I let it drawl out slightly hesitant yet full of undoubting awe and devotion.

"Collect your godson and get back to that madman you serve. We can't have him doubting your allegiances at this time."

After cradling the limp boy (GOD FUCKING DAMMIT HE WAS JUST A BOY! A boy Severus had bottle-fed, changed the nappies on, pushed on swing sets, taught to brew, taught to fly, mentored and sheltered for sixteen years now.) from the dirty floor and turning to go that same voice rang out again.

"Once he has come to remind him the consequences of failing me a second time." He received a nod in return. I feared if I spoke he would define what 'remind him' meant. I would not be able to curse Draco even if he had demanded it. In the past, when it had been required of me to over see his punishment, I had recruited another to do the work while I
clenched one hand to the other arm to prevent myself from interfering.

~PRESENTLY~

Back in the privacy of his own rooms Severus deposited Draco in his guest room and began to collect the potions he would need. Damage could be healed, for the most part, but seeing the closest thing to his own blood so still and frazzled sent cold chills up his back. Another rage like that could push a young body beyond repair. If Voldemort had treated followers like this last time his numbers would have been smaller. Since his return he had been different; possessing animals and barely living could do that to a soul he supposed. It was as though multiple personalities battled for dominance and depending on which one surfaced as you spoke determined the reaction you received. Tonight had been one of the worst sessions since the resurrection.

After wrapping cuts with poultice soaked bandages and forcing potion after potion down his narrow throat Draco was put into a deep sleep and placed under monitoring spells. Dumbledore would be down soon to check on Severus, as per ritual. It would be brief tonight, as the Potions master had no news and no words to describe the horrors he'd seen that night. On cue a knock sounded through the chambers. Clad in purple and orange with pink fuzzy socks under his house slippers Albus strode in.

"My boy, I take it the meeting went poorly. You look worse for wear tonight. Is something on your mind?"

"Draco Malfoy is sleeping off extensive nerve damage and perhaps a hundred freshly healed cuts in my guest room. One…could say there is something on my mind."

Albus shook his head and placed a warm yet firm hand on the black-clad shoulder of his former student. Asking him year after year to spy for the Order was truly starting to take a toll on Severus. Before Voldemort had returned his job was less stressful, mainly consisting of being eyes and ears among the remaining faithful death eaters. Now though, it was twice as hard to do the same job. Voldemort was always on the look out for spies and traitors due to his desire to keep his human form. Severus lost a bit more of himself during every meeting he attended. According to Albus he had already lost more than most could stand and perhaps more than anyone had a duty to. After failing Lily Evans-Potter the man had warped and bent to a so far unfixable state. His zest for life and desire to prove others wrong had faded to embers after Godric's Hollow.

"If that is all Headmaster I have certain potions and lesson plans that need tending before the students return for the term."

"Yes, Severus, of course." With a quick nod (and a glance towards the room Draco slept in) he stepped out into the dark hall and swept his robes along the walls as he returned to his quarters.

That old fool knew how to push buttons! He had silently announced his willingness to aid in Draco, despite knowing his mission was to ensure Dumbledore's demise with his own wand.

In a rage Severus took a swipe at his desk and knocked a completed Draught of Peace onto the floor. For the hospital's stock he used unbreakable vials but this one had been for his personal use and was not protected from its creator, him. As it hit and shattered the professor winced and slid down the wall to the floor; one more thing to add to his ever-growing to do list. When the darkness closed in around him he welcomed it, waiting until the gloom started to consume him. It was the same after every meeting recently. There was discussion of Potter and his daily habits and locations, talk of Draco and his mysterious (to most) task, torture of a random Muggle to lift morale, and punishment for those Death Eaters who had gotten in the way or failed since the last meeting. If the Dark Lord was in an especially foul mood even those who had pleased him were found out of favor. Severus himself had been exposed to the Cruciatus during the night. Thinking about the meeting brought the blackness in closer. He felt hopeless and waited until everything seemed to close in around him before saving himself. He trembled and slung to his robes before a detached voice sounded.

"Lumos."

A simple second year spell: one blip of peace in the turmoil of the soul.

It was a cracked whisper and barely audible, even to himself. There on the floor lay the remnants of the draught. It had fallen and stayed adhered to itself, creating an odd pattern. Upon closer observation the liquid had formed a sort of lopsided lily flower shape with shards of glass vial lining the inside like a stamen. The silver shimmer still rose from the potion, as it should if brewed properly, and gave the whole image of white potion on dark floor an ethereal glow.

Though haggard it was the small reminders such as broken potions and the soft sounds of the sleeping blonde in my guest room that pulled me through the more arduous nights, such as the one I had just faced. No matter how dark it got I could remember the bright warmth of the fire as I sipped whiskey in my chair or the way Draco had laughed and lit up as a toddler. There were always the memories of Lily Evans and the summer breezes rushing through her red hair.

Perhaps that was why I look to "Lumos" to ground me. It reminded me of the light I had seen through my life. When the darkness looked to be the only thing there was still remnants to be had. Perhaps one day there would be one more person or experience to add to the sparse bright points in my life. Thirty-six years I had existed and if someone had asked what I would change the list would be long and widely thought out. I didn't have the guts to actually go through with it if someone had miraculously created a way to go back in time. Terrible things happen to wizards who meddle with time. Besides if I had changed the decision to call Lily a Mudblood I may have lost the opportunity to be Draco's godfather. If I had lost Draco my world would have been darker, though I may have become a family man and had an actual son of my own had I chosen that path. The what-if's were too much to wonder about.

When the door opened and closed I didn't react. In fact, I didn't react until Draco slid down the wall next to me (he would never have ruined his clothes in such a manner if they hadn't already been slashed and bloodied.) and rested his head against my bicep.

"He wanted me to remind you that a second failure would not be tolerated. I believe he meant for more than words to be exchanged."

Draco pulled up his knees and dropped his head into his hands. A tremor shook his body and only after a ragged inhale did he dare speak again.

"I've never seen him so angry before. What was I thinking when I agreed to this damn mark?"

I shook my own head. "Probably the same thing I was thinking when I got mine; that I'd finally belong and be respected. It has earned me neither and I'd give it up if given the opportunity."

To that he remained silent and after a few moments looked up to meet my dark eyes. For a moment there was a spark of the old little boy I had known. There was mischief in his eyes and an incurable curiousness. He had traded the mischief for the title of ice prince and the curious nature for obedience. He had become the son his father demanded of him but in my presence showed the boy he remained. He was still impeccable and cunning. (That had been bred into him for centuries.) Draco retained a friendly sort of crooked smirk and a soft look on his face. I stated "that if I had a son" but I did have a son, in a way. Draco became more and more of a son as time passed. I had been like an uncle through his early years but the more Lucius pushed and demanded the more Draco relied on me to encourage and advise.

I was jarred from my thoughts by a Hawthorn wand tapping against my own lit wand; his gentle reminder that we were in this together. He lit the candle on my desk and put his head back on the edge of my arm and shoulder. After a few minutes he rose and extended his arm for me to do the same. Malfoy's didn't sit on the floor and neither should I. With both feet upon the ground again and some of my dignity returned and the blackness on the run again the night looked more promising. With a final look down at Draco and one last glimpse of the little boy I had raised my willpower return.

"I should go. It is late and we both have things to do before school starts for the term."

"Nox."

Draco hugged me, something he hadn't done in years, before walking to the door and disappearing out into the shadowy dungeon. He was headed for the Hogwarts gates to return home. Though I was pained to see him go, his cocky gait would grace these halls within a week's time. Happiness truly can be found, even in the darkest of times, if one only remembers to turn on the light.

I glanced once more at the lily-shaped potion spill and knew if I left it there for the night the reside would stain the shape into my floor. It was a desirable idea and so I walked passed it for my private quarters. As I shut the door the urge to glance one more overcame me. It seemed even in death Lily dominated my thoughts. She showed at the most pressing times and calmed me. Brought me light. Reminding me: Always.