Broken

Chapter One:

September


Snape had made a lot of mistakes, and he was well aware of that. His life was made up as one error after another. He joined the wrong side, found out too late, and now he was a spy, hated by the side he was on and lying to the side he was not. What was really ironic seemed to be that the side he was on treated him much worse than the side he was lying to. All of the fighters of 'good' seemed to treat him like something that came out of a rats back end. His cool attitude and sharp tongue was all that guarded him from the snide comments and cruel actions towards him from the very people he was helping. Yet on the side he was fighting against treated him like a hero, one of the closest to Voldemort, even above Lucius, who was a pure-blood.

Severus was contemplating this very fact as he waited in on of the Dark Lord's many rooms. He didn't know where he was, the Dark Mark had pulled him here like a Portkey. All he knew was that he'd been here before several times. Whenever Voldemort wanted to meet with him completely alone, Snape found himself in this dark room. If he'd thought that the Dark Lord actually slept, he'd believe that this was his bedroom. In the center of the back wall there was a bed, and two seats across the room. He hated being made to wait, and sat in one of the seats.

Voldemort purposely made people wait for him, Snape knew. It was an old trick, a way of establishing dominance. The potions master simply found it to be a tiring experience. There was no need for the Dark Lord to establish dominance, Severus already knew his place.

Finally Voldemort showed, appearing from nowhere with a loud crack right beside the other chair.

"Ssseveruss." He whispered in the snakelike voice of his. "I am glad you could join me."

Listening to Voldemort speak was not a pleasurable experience. He was less than human, his voice raspy and weak even though Voldemort himself was not weak in the least. His face overly expressive despite being inhuman and bare. Thankfully, Snape had grown used to his 'Lord'.

"I shall always at your beck and call, my Lord." Snape said. Even when pretending to be a faithful servant, his voice was blank and slightly snarky. It wasn't as if he pretended to be an entirely different person.

"I m glad to hear that, for I do have a tasssk for you." Voldemort said, sitting down in the opposite chair and folding his hands together.

"And pray tell?" Severus asked. If it where anyone else, the Dark Lord would have used a forbidden curse on anyone who addressed his so casually, but Snape was the exception.

"I require an heir."

There was a moment of silence as Severus considered the facts. Voldemort had always planned to live forever. Immortality would be his prize after he won the war, or so he claimed, and he offered the same to those who stayed beside him.

"An heir, my Lord?"

"A blood heir. I want you to help me in this." The Dark Lord finished, but Snape was still drawing a blank. "I need... a vessssel."

Snape kept his eyes firm on the man he had been plotting against for years. His head slightly bowed but eyes meeting.

"And I should find this vessel for you?"

"No." Voldemort replied. "You shall be this vesssel for me."

There was a moment of intense surprise that made Severus's shoulders jolt, but he tried to keep his calm. Though his mind was mush, his master didn't seem to mind as he kept right on going.

"If anything where to go wrong thisss time, I need a body I can ussse." he went on. "A body with my own blood."

"The body of a child, sir?"

"Thisss would be a... backup." Voldemort told him, his yellow eyes flashing.

"And a woman could not serve as a proper... vessel?" Snape asked, keeping his voice even. He may have favor above the others, but he would not directly question the Dark Lord's demands.

"No!" The creature said loudly in his rasp, coming to his feet. "It must be you, and it will be you, Ssseverusss!"

Severus nearly jumped out of his skin hearing how angry Voldemort was acting. He kept his gaze stern and lifted his chin a bit more.

"You," Voldemort said strictly. "And none other."


Not long after, Snape sat in Dumbledore's office, his face grim as he recounted the facts to the headmaster. The old man sat perched at his desk, in a way that made Severus feel like just the schoolboy he once was. His mind was still wheeling from the surprise and slight fear, though he didn't let the headmaster see or hear that fear. No one was allowed to see any weakness in him.

"And that's all?" Dumbledore asked. Snape's eyes fell a bit and he took a breath.

Dumbledore was treating this all like a routine meeting after dealing with the Death Eaters. As if this had no real meeting whatsoever. Snape felt his heart fall, already seeing where this was leading. He didn't expect any different, but part of him had hoped Dumbledore would at least consider an alternative.

"Yes, sir." He said, feeling he was referring to too many men as 'sir' for a person his age. "It was a direct order, and if I deny him, I will most likely be labeled a traitor, whether they find out I am not merely masquerading as a spy for dark or not."

The headmaster leaned forward onto the table and rubbed his forehead with his index finger and thumb. He looked partially concerned, which made Severus feel slightly better, though not much. He was more likely concerned about this news interfering with the flow of information, not the health and safety for a spy.

"And Voldemort... How does he plan to inseminate you?" he asked. "Not through traditional methods, I would hope?"

"A spell. Tomorrow at midnight." Snape told him. "It is called Ferilious partonous. The caster becomes the father of an unborn child inside of me."

"Do you know anything more about this curse?"

"I have been studying up on it since he informed me." Severus said, not correcting the headmaster that it was a spell, not a curse.

"Than I have a question." Dumbledore started, leaning back again. "Is it possible to change the spell, so the child is not Voldemort's blood?"

Snape nodded. In fact, that had been the first thing he looked up after he found out that the spell was binding. The child could not be expelled from the parent, male or female parent alike. Not until the birth, obviously.

"A re-casting of the spell within the first month." Snape said. "And the new caster would become the parent."

Dumbledore nodded and looked at Severus expectantly.

"So the child does not have to be of Voldemort's blood! If I understand correctly, if the child is not his by lineage..."

"The Dark Lord would not be able to take possession of the body. Or at least not as easily."

"You will have to carry a child if we are to keep retaining information, Severus. You do understand.." he headmaster said slowly. Snape did not look up. He was not going to be given a choice, that was already obvious.

"I understand, sir." he said, not letting his voice reflect any emotion.

"I will chose a father for the child, from the side of light." the headmaster told him. "The pregnancy will buy us some time, and now we know that Voldemort's second plans will be in vain. When the time comes for a birthing... Hopefully he will already be defeated, and we will find parents for the child."

Snape was biting the flesh on his inner cheeks to keep his anger from flooding every bone in his body. He was going to be used, once again. As usual no one considered him in all of this, from either side. Even though Voldemort and Dumbledore where completely opposite from each other, they both had one thing they had in common: the way they treated him. No choices, no alternatives.

"In a way, this could be a blessing." Dumbledore told him, his voice uncannily bright for Severus' mode. "If Voldemort believes you are carrying his child, he will not harm you."

Severus nodded, but did not say a word. Not that it would have mattered. Dumbledore decided how he wanted to do things, and Snape was expected to carry out these orders without question. And to top it off, he was supposed to be grateful for the privilege. Snape silently reprimanded himself for thinking that. He should be grateful to Dumbledore. If it weren't for him, he would most likely be rotting in Azkaban right now.

"Immediately after the conception tomorrow, I want you to go straight to your chambers. I will meet you there along with a donor." Dumbledore told him specifically. "I do not want Voldemort's kin inside of you for a moment longer than necessary, do you understand? This is important."

"Yes sir." Snape said, truly meaning it. He did not want such a thing inside of him either. But he doubted changing the child's lineage would make him any less disgusted.

But whether it was Voldemort's child or some other random man, Snape knew that he would not enjoy the experience of being used the way they were planning.

He was excused from the room after that with a nod from the headmasters head, relieved that he could now go take a shower and sleep. He still held the musty scent of Voldemort on his robes. But at the door, he paused. Dumbledore looked upwards, curiously. Severus was known to be a man of few words. With the headmaster, Snape rarely spoke at all. It was actually a component of the potions master that bewildered the headmaster to no end.

"Sir..." Snape started, and then shook his head and continued out, leaving an empty corridor behind him.

Dumbledore shook his head, wondering what of the many choices Snape would have said, but none of them suited the inscrutable man. Something still bothered him... Why had Voldemort picked Snape?


After his shower Snape set down to rest in his bedroom in the dungeons, but he was only fooling himself. He knew he was to get no rest that night. He tried to block out his thoughts, the only reason he'd been able to live with himself so far in life, but it was too much to block out.

So he read. That was all he could think to do. He picked up one of his potion books and began taking notes in the margarine, a habit that stuck with him since preschool. He hadn't read the actual book for a long time, he had the potions all memorized, but he had made them better through experimentation and he assumed that if he ever wanted anyone to recreate anything half-decently he should keep a record.

But even that did not occupy his mind long enough, and his hands began to shake as thoughts occurred to him one after the other. Who would the father be if not Voldemort? He prayed it wouldn't be Sirius – Or even worse someone like Potter! That seemed like something only Dumbledore would think up. And yet Severus knew it shouldn't matter. It wasn't as if he was ever going to even look at the thing. Just carry it.

He shouldn't have been so surprised when Voldemort informed him that he'd be carrying an heir. Obviously surprising because he was male, but when he thought of the previous weeks it made some things fall together a bit better. The Dark Lord had never had a mandatory check-up before, and he'd been asking odd questions lately about Sevrous' diet. Severus had shrugged it off before he became paranoid, though that was the next step. He had no idea why the Dark Lord seemed so concerned with any Death Eater's well-being, let alone Snape's. Now it made much more sense.

Without finishing the sentence he was writing, Severus closed his book and leaned backwards, trapped in his own thoughts and unable to consentrate on any potion. He was physically and mentally exhausted to the point where he couldn't even try to sleep, and yet his first class was in only four hours.

Snape had no idea how he managed to get through his classes. Six hours of impatient hell. He could tell by the terrified look his students gave, including the Slytherins, that his remarks were much more biting than usual. When the Nevell boy looked like he was going to cry he finally decided to take a break from students and take his dinner in his bedroom. He needed to prepare himself, physically and mentally, for later that night.

Once Snape was in the safety of his room, he cast a silence spell on his door. He didn't want any 'worried' teachers knocking at the door. It was his experience that any worry the teachers ever felt towards him was the worry that they might not have the latest gossip. He laid down on his back, staring up at the ceiling for a few minutes, before he felt the familiar burning he knew would come. His arm. Damned annoying, really. No point for it to burn so badly. With a heavy sigh he managed to pull himself to his feet, dreading what was about to happen.

He had to leave the grounds to apperiate to were Voldemort and the others where. The scar led him, as always, and he had no idea where he would end up. When he opened his eyes, he found that he was on top of an empty hill, or mostly empty. A circle of death eaters with familiar white masks surrounded him from all sides, the darkness making their eyes black holes. The moon was waning and only a small portion was still showing, making it harder to see than usual and snuffing out any colors. Severus looked around his suspiciously, but nothing seemed too out of the ordinary besides the fact that he was in the center of the circle, and the Dark Lord was not present.

Very slowly, the Death Eaters started backing away. Severus recognized this as some sort of ritual, and wondered why the Dark Lord seemed to be thrilled on the theatrics. It was unnecessary for anyone else to be here for this. But as the circle grew larger and the masks became even more vague in appearance, the slit-nosed man apperiated in front of him. Snape did not step back, and forced his heartbeat to stay steady. He would not be taken in by all of this, and he would have the Dark Lord know it.

"Sssseverusss...." Voldemort started, tilting his head as he spoke. "Right on time I sssee..."

"Yes, sir." Snape replied. He was having trouble not rolling his eyes. "Might I ask why there must be an audience for the occasion?"

"The othersss will watch." the taller of the two replied, and gave no further indication as to why. "Let uss begin."

Severus didn't really need to do anything. The spell was underhanded and cheap, a trick that men would use to contrive wives. Forcing a child onto another, binding them. Voldemort only had to say the word...

"Ferilious partonous!"

And there it was. Snape doubled over in pain, feeling a pulsating through his entire body. A second of pure torture, another of relief, and then more torture. Keeping his dignity in the process was Snape's only concern, and that wasn't going very well as the blank masks seemed to be mocking his pain. One hand clutched his middle, the point where the pulsating started before in spread to the rest of his frail body, and he used to other to at least keep himself from falling completely to the ground.

"Good..." Voldemort cooed above him, making Snape want to shove the blasting end of a certain animal in his ears. "Very good. You're doing well Sseverusss, not even a scream. Most would have screamed by now, you understand..."

Snape did understand, all too well. The erg to scream was nearly damn well overpowering. To cry, to jump off a cliff even, wouldn't have seemed crazy at the moment. Waves of pain still rushing over him every few seconds, Severus couldn't be sure if it would ever end.

When it finally did end, and Severus was left without any strength or energy, not even enough to lift his light body off the ground, Voldemort stepped towards him.

"You have proven much to me tonight..." he said. "... From now on, we will be very clossse, you and I..."

With that, the Dark Lord must have signaled for one of the masked men to lift him, because that is just what had happened. One of his arms was moved, to make the process easier, and he just barely heard a whisper.

"Bloody hell, Snape. Why would you agree to this?" whispered the Malfoy behind the mask. Severus smirked but said nothing to the childhood friend. Lucius knew well and good that there was no 'agreeing' with Voldemort. Only obeying.

Lucius apperiated into a house, Severus didn't know whom it belonged to exactly, and a bed was placed under what was now a very limp, powerless body of the potions master. He ached in ways he'd never felt before. His inner workings where tired. He could barely feel his legs as Lucius gingerly flourished a blanket over his comrade. Now that they were indoors, away from the Dark Lords presence, they could have spoke. However, Severus was too tired to do so.

"You can rest here, but you need to hurry." Lucius said. Snape would have corrected him on the absurdity of the sentence if he had the energy. "It's nearly dawn."

Dawn? Snape couldn't believe it. How long had the pains lasted? He couldn't ask as his eyes closed against his will. He would have to hurry and get to Hogwarts soon, but he would wait until he could feel his extremities before he'd try. His mind went blank, if only for a few minutes.

'A few minutes' quickly turned to an hour, but after that Lucius was forced to wake up the sleeping man, who looked like he'd like nothing better than to sleep for the rest of eternity, even if said sleep had been unrestful at best, and downright torture at worst. The Malfoy father thought it would be best not to tell Severus that he'd screamed in his sleep, seeing as the man had worked so hard not to do so during the actual ceremony. Lucius felt for him, but it would be an understatement to say the dark side would be inconvenienced if Snape didn't get to school at least before his first class. As Severus very quickly and very quietly apperiated away, Lucius reminded himself to note Draco later, to see how the potions master fared in class.

Severus couldn't have been more agitated. No, agitated wasn't even the right word for it. His bones ached, his inner workings barely kept themselves in order, and he could scarcely walk proper. That spell had been as bad as the Crucio with three times an aftereffect. At least once the forbidden curse was finished, there was nothing left but a few scrapes and bruises and a lack of sanity if used properly, not a fetus. Barely able to stand, he refused to swallow his pride and as gracefully as he could manage apperiated himself as close to the castle as possible, not wanting the head of Malfoy manor to have another humiliating story to add to his collection on the potions master (most from their school days, of course).

After that, the teacher was able to hobble to the dungeons with a fair amount of trouble and pain, grasping his torso with one arm and using the other to lean against the strong stone walls with. Thankfully the sparse students who were awake at this hour were enjoying their breakfast, and Severus was able to get through the castle, quite nearly collapse down the stairs, make it through the potions classroom (he made a note to blame Neville for the few glass beakers he toppled into, if he didn't get to them before class), and into his own bedroom.

His body and mind too weak and tired to do much else, Severus had his eyes closed before he even landed in the bed. Thoughts of revenge came and went through his sleepy mind. Voldemort, Dumbledore, and even Potter, who had not much to do with any of this, all were participates in his fantasies. However, they did not last long as he finally manged to turn onto his back, find a position that did not cause too much pain, and drift off again. The fact that his first class was in less than an hour did not even stir his bones.


When he awoke a second time, Severus Snape felt a presence. He couldn't say who (though he could wager a guess, precious few people would enter his living quarters without permission), but he knew that someone was on their way in. When he tried to lift his body a pain shot through his abdomen and down his spine; which caused him to slam his body back down involuntarily. Just as he was repressing a pained grunt, his door opened without a knock or call.

"I'm glad to see you are well." Snape growled. Dumbledore. Great. Bloody perfect. "You've been sleeping for the entire day, Severus. We had to cancel your classes."

Snape didn't want to respond, he knew it would hurt, but a lot of him was afraid not to.

"So sorry, sir." he said in his snarky, insincere way that Snape barely ever used on the headmaster. He was right, it did hurt to speak, and though he tried not to show it he knew Dumbledore could tell.

"Madam Pomfrey could be here in moments if you need her. I hadn't called her yet." Dumbledore replied to the pain, but Snape shook his head sharply. "I had assumed not."

Severus tried not to moan as he lifted himself up, more slowly this time. He was able to get his feet over the bed without so much as a groan, though he was holding much inside. Dumbledore offered a hand, but he did not take it. He would rather stay sitting than appear as though he needed the help.

"You didn't tell me the spell would put such a strain on you..." the headmaster's eyes twinkled with sympathy. Snape didn't want it and brushed it away.

"It wouldn't have made much of a difference, would it?"

Dumbledore sighed and nodded. Severus was right, it had to be done. There were certain sacrifices that the side of light had to make, the headmaster just wished that most of them hadn't fallen on the potions master. He looked away as nonchalantly as he could muster.

"We have to discuss..." he started. Snape looked up. "You have been sleeping for nine hours, the ceremony must have taken place at least ten hours ago, and the child will be Voldemort's unless--"

"I understand." Severus interrupted sharply. "Let's just get it over with, shall we?"

The potions master wasn't looking forward to this, the pain would be just as bad, he assumed. He was also not looking forward to the answer to his next question.

"And who did you decide would parent this parasite?" he asked, his voice filled with venom and spite. Dumbledore's mood lightened considerably.

"Oh yes! This is good news." he said. Snape doubted that, but let the old coot continue. "It turns out there is a couple our side, they would love to conceive a child but have thus far been unsuccessful."

Rolling his eyes, Snape forced himself to stand, using his side table as a crutch.

"That means little to me. Names." he said shortly. He was lucky that he was in such obvious pain, or his rudeness would have been noted multiple times over by this point.

"Remus Lupin and... Sirius Bla--"

"Over my dead body!" Severus immediately spat. If his tone had been venomous before, now it was akin to a death drought. The pain was excruciating as he felt the need to yell out the sentence, something his body had not been ready or willing to do.

Dumbledore sighed, he had assumed this. Anyone would have.

"It is your only option, Severus. You don't have a choice." he said calmly.

Those words seemed to take all of the air out of Severus very quickly. No, he never did, did he? He growled to himself, and promised he wouldn't go down without a fight.

"That animal is not having anything from me, and I'm not talking about the werewolf!" he snapped. "I believe I've agreed to enough mutilation of my body without carrying his brat inside myself."

"We thought you'd say that, and have decided that under these circumstances, Remus would make an excellent biological father." Dumbledore informed the raging professor. Snape cocked an eyebrow, still not at all calm.

"You expect me to believe they would let this thing have a chance to be a werewolf. You shouldn't trust them with it, than." he said simply. Dumbledore could see that Severus was very out of breath and health, his face far paler than usual, and he was sweating from being in so much anger and pain. If it weren't for this, he doubted he would have been able to get the professor to consent. Now, however, he might be able to.

"That was the agreement we made. Remus understands your hatred for Sirius, but he has never done anything towards you to warrant the denial of a child." the headmaster told him, all of which was true. They all had known Snape would never agree to carry a child with Sirius Black's bloodline. "The chance that the baby becomes a werewolf is one they are willing to take, for your comfort."

Snape nearly had an ulcer hearing that joke. He was having a hard time standing, his body wanting to rest and recover from the mornings affair. Snape wished he'd known how much the spell would take out of him beforehand, so he could have prepared a potion for the occasion. A restorative potion was in his study, but that was too far for him to imagine walking at the moment.

"Yes, because everyone has considered my comfort thus far..." he mumbled. The world was starting to spin and his words were merging together a bit. He had to lean his side the wall, a most undignified position which he would rather not have been seen in, but the headmaster didn't seem to notice past the subject at hand.

"The facts are, Severus, that we have no time and only one option. I would hope that you would rather have a werewolf for a child than one that could potentially house Voldemort's soul." Dumbledore finished, nailing the lid to the coffin. Snape knew he could not refuse. Bringing up Voldemort was all the headmaster had to do, to remind Severus of the dept which was owed.

"Fine." Snape finally consented, his weakness making it easier for the older man. He couldn't think straight, let alone argue his point thoroughly enough to convince anyone. "I'll carry the werewolf's damned cub, but that man is to have nothing to do with it. No tricks, Albus..."

Dumbledore looked up with a perplexed expression, trying to remember ever 'tricking' Severus and failing to recall. He hoped it was just an effect of the pain and exhaustion.

"I swear a wizards oath that Sirius will in no way physically assault your person." he said, trying to word it the least insulting way possible. That didn't seem to matter, as the potions master was barely holding in the screams of pain. "I will be back in a few hours to cast the spell a second time, with Remus. Is there anything you need?"

On any normal occasion, Snape would have politely said no. On any other occasion where he was as angry as he was at the moment, he would have told Albus to shove his sympathy right up his arse. But this occasion was humbling him with each wave of pain and he was sure he wouldn't make it without the potion. He felt his body convulse slightly and sat back down on the bed.

"My desk in my study." he abruptly told Albus. "A restorative drought, in the top drawer."

Dumbledore didn't seem to mind the abrupt nature of the orders, and fetched the potion without complaint. Even when Severus did not thank him or make eye contact before he left the room, he was still smiling slightly, which made the potions master nearly vomit. Of course he was smiling, Severus thought, he got his way.

Once the headmaster was gone, Snape swilled the drought and lay back down slowly, trying not to disturb whatever was causing the pains. When he didn't manage to fall asleep again, the pain hit him harder than before. The worse was knowing that this would all repeat in an hour, when he'd go through all of it again.


Although the next few hours were painfully slow, it also seemed all too soon that Severus had to pull himself away from the comfort of his bed to try to clean himself up. Even though Snape was much more proud than vain, and would refuse to admit that he didn't want to be seen around others looking a mess, he still went to his bathrooms to try to fix the mess that the spell had made him. First, he thought, not even glancing at the mirror, he needed a shower. His body was moist with cold sweat, which had accumulated in the hours of unbearable pain. Everything, from his hair to his feet, felt wet and disgusting.

He managed to get off his robes fairly easily, and was glad that he'd only worn simple trousers underneath, and no blouse as he normally would have. He was a modest man, but it was summer and so he hadn't felt the need to wear a button-down shirt. This was a blessing, as his fingers where much too shaky and uncoordinated at the moment to do much more than turn the knob of the shower dials. The water began and Snape removed what clothes he had, stepping into the spray. It hurt. He couldn't even believe it, but it did. Over his entire torso, it felt like a smack with each drop of water. He gasped and wrapped his arms around his stomach, the most offensive on the pain, and turned his back to the water. That was a bit better, and he was able to get himself clean, to a point. He didn't wash his hair as he normally would, not that there was much of a point anyway, as everyone in the school knew that his hair was useless and greasy. He was somehow able to wash with soap, even though it hurt badly to move his arms away from his stomach for even a moment.

When he finished the shower he brushed his hair quickly with is fingers, avoided the mirror again, and looked down at his robe on the ground. Normally, he would not have stood for a mess, and would have picked his clothing up, but he was in extreme pain and bending over did not seem like a good idea, so he stepped over the fallen parcels and went straight to his closet, removing a fresh robe and a pair of boxers. He barely got these two on, and decided that the trousers would have to be left. Most wizards didn't wear muggle clothes under their robes, anyway. Most certainly none of the other teachers. Serverus was the only one who worried about things like being hung upside-down and having the whole world see his undergarments. He growled, the idea of carrying around a child that would go to that man, the one who provided so many hours of torture, made him want to tear himself apart.

Deciding there wasn't much more that he could do to fix himself, he looked over at the mirror for a fraction of a second, seeing what he always saw. Same greasy hair, same large nose, same disgusting body, and a feeble attempt to hide it under lose robes did nothing. At least he was thin. He took a deep breath, pushed his hair behind his ears, and laid back down. Dumbledore would come soon, and Snape had just used up all the energy he'd retained from his napping. He smiled when he realized the pain had let up a tiny bit, but then realized the spell would be recast in an hour and it would all come back.

Damn that Sirius Black.

Two hours, thankfully, passed where Severus's body gained a bit of respite. His laying down helped a great deal, now. Even the idea of moving still caused him great pains, but if he laid completely still he could almost forget the rushes of anguish he would feel when he did move. Then there was a knock, which surprised the hell out of Snape. He slowly, painfully sat up, not making a sound. Another knock came as Severus grabbed the edge of a nearby table and used it to lift himself, not having to worry about anyone seeing how pathetic that was. A third knock, and the potions master was almost at the door. Halfway through yet another knocking he wrenched the door open with a glare.

"That's enough." he said darkly to the beaming man across from him. Dumbledore just kept smiling.

"It's quite impressive you did not just call me in. The drought must have helped?" he presumed. Snape shook his head.

"The drought did nothing but give me enough energy to keep breathing." Snape said, quite honestly. "The changes in my body are causing the pains, and nothing will help until we get the spell over with a second time."

Dumbledore nodded to this subtle hint and stepped aside to let the potions master through. He had decided it would be best to conduct the spell in one of the empty rooms. Severus would not have appreciated anyone else in his bedroom (as he already clearly did not appreciate the headmaster there).. He led the way, and Snape followed, putting on a tough face and not letting Dumbledore see how much pain he was currently in. Snape considered it a blessing that he could walk at all, and was pleasantly surprised that the shower seemed to have given him much of his strength back.

The headmaster stepped into a large, almost empty stone room on the next floor, and then to the side to let Severus pass. There were already two other in the large dank room. Snape's eyes instantly locked with Sirius Black, who was leaning nonchalantly against one of the cold stone walls, glaring right back. The hatred was almost tangible, and so thick that it took Snape a moment to look over at the other man. He didn't know Lupin

quite as personally. He know him as 'the werewolf' who had always been paling around with his tormentors, even if he never did so himself. Snape was not anymore eager to had his seed inside of him than Sirius', but it was a step up. Remus was standing awkwardly in the middle of the room, several feet from his partner. He smiled when Snape walked in, which the potions master found off-putting at best. Not many people smiled towards him, and if they did it was usually a bad sign.

"Severus... Hello." he said, sounding just as awkward as he looked. Snape nodded but did not verbally respond, not even stepping any further into the room. He refused to look afraid of Black, but at the same time he and Dumbledore both knew how weak he currently was, and Dumbledore was not one to care whether something was meant to be private or not.

Silence rang for several moments, before the headmaster clapped his hands together joyously.

"Right then, we should begin as quickly as possible, shall we?" he asked, attempting to calm the room.

Severus turned his head only slightly in the direction of the speaking man, not wanting Black out of his eyesight. Sirius must have noticed this, because he smirked and pushed himself from the stone wall.

"What's the matter, Snivilous?" his voice dripping with condescending tones. Remus turned his head quickly in the direction of his mate, which did nothing. "Are you feeling ill? Morning sickness, maybe?"

The air grew even thicker and Severus' eyes narrowed at the cruel, sarcastic man. He expected this. Actually, he expected much worse, but that didn't mean he was about to take it.

"And what about you, Black? How does it feel to leave one dungeon for another? I'm surprised they even let you out, considering how much trouble you cause for the order whenever you try..." he refused to break eye contact, even when Sirius' face turned red with anger. "Tell me, how does it feel to have people coming and leaving your home who are actually making a difference in this war?"

Sirius growled, but was interrupted by Remus.

"Severus, I wanted thank you." he said quickly. Snape blinked but Remus continued without much hesitation. "This is important to us. I can not carry a child... My transformation would kill it. And a surrogate is out of the question for a werewolf and a convicted felon..."

Snape smirked, seeing another opening.

"Why wouldn't Black want to carry the child?" he asked. "I don't see you doing much with your precious time, and I'm certain this is the closest to the outdoors you will see for at least nine months."

That seemed to be the final straw for someone with as short a temper as Sirius.

"Why you slimy little git!!" he yelled, pushing past Remus, going for Severus' neck.

The potions professor had hardly ever been caught surprised before, very careful to predict everything. He had predicted Sirius' reaction to his jibes, he knew the man had quite a temper. What he did not predict, however, was Dumbledore. Normally in a situation such as this, where Snape had said something stupid and couldn't reach his wand in time, Sirius would get at least one good punch in before anyone would even attempt to stop him. It seemed most people saw his temper as more of a quirk than anything dangerous, since Snape was the only one to ever physically suffer from it. But this time, Dumbledore's wand was drawn and pointed before Sirius was even in range. Snape was caught off-guard, but tried not to show it. If anyone were to stop the attack, he would have expected the werewolf to do so (after the first punch, of course). He had made himself ready for the injury already, knowing how weak he was combined with the fact that he had never been a physically strong man, he had found it a suitable trade.

Sirius stopped mid-step at the sight of Dumbledore, who usually would never step in the middle until after someone was either seriously injured or the fight was already over, actively stopping him. He seemed as unused to the idea as Snape.

"Sirius, I'm disappointed in you. We already went over this. You are not to harm or come into contact with Severus in any way." he said in his worn but stern voice. Sirius took a step back.

"He's asking for it!" he bellowed.

"He's doing us a kindness." Remus responded. Snape realized that the werewolf had taken several steps backwards during the threatening situation. "You promised..."

This seemed to anger Sirius even more so, but his shoulders stopped hunching and his body relaxed slightly. Severus tried to hold back the smirk he wished to shine, if only for Dumbledore's sake. He was still confused, as the headmaster usually let Griffondors, even ones who have long past graduated, get away with anything, but he did not question it.

"I figure he-who-must-not-be-named choose you because you're the only git as ugly as he is." Sirius growled pathetically as he made his way back to the wall. Severus let that one go. For one it was completely unoriginal (oh, he was ugly, that was new), and for two, they both knew who won this exchange and who had to run off with their figurative tail between their legs.

"We should begin." Snape finally said. "I want this over with."

Remus nodded slightly, looking concerned, while Sirius didn't seem to care at all. Snape straightened his robe and hoped he just didn't lose all of his dignity when the spell hit. He wasn't sure how much more pain he could physically endure before his body gave up on him completely, but he knew that it wasn't very much. Lupin brought out his wand, that looked just as ragged as the rest of him, really, and pointed it towards Severus' navel.

"Ferilious partonous." he said, and Snape couldn't help but notice he didn't do a bad job on the incantation. He didn't notice for very long, however, as he fell to the ground moments later with a horrible grimace for pain.

He tried to hold back, probably even harder that when he tried around the Dark Lord, but it was impossible and he felt himself shrink with the small whimper that made it's way out his throat. He didn't notice much beyond the pain, even though he was almost positive someone was trying to help him to his feet. It could have been Dumbledore, or maybe Remus, but his reaction was harsh to whoever it was.

"Don't touch me!" he hissed, pulling away.

Trying to save his dignity, he managed to only grunt in pain as he forced himself at least sit up. He couldn't stand. It was at this point he noticed the pain wasn't quite as bad as it had been with Voldemort. Snape could only hope that the worst was over. Through sheer force of will, Severus' head rightened itself enough that he could open his eyes, long enough to see Sirius smirking in the corner, at least. After that he had to close them again. He took deep breaths and sighed.

"It's over." he lied, the pain was very far from being over, but if he bit the inside of his cheek hard enough he could stand. Doing just that he kept his eyes averted from the three in the room. If he were an optimistic man, he would have counted his blessings that only three people had seen the display. Unfortunately, Snape was not an optimistic man, and one of those people happened to be Sirius Black. "I have work to do."

"I'll walk you back to your rooms." Dumbledore said quietly with a fraction of sympathy for the mans pain. Snape shook his head, not quite as angry as he normally would have been, he just sounded tired.

"You will do no such thing." he said, as stern as ever, but not angry. "I do not need to be watched over."

Dumbledore smiled slightly, but it was a sad smile.

"Of course, my boy." he addressed Snape in the same tone as before. "Then I will be accompanying Remus and Sirius back to Grimmauld place."

The potions master nodded tersely and left the room, waiting until the door was closed to start using the wall as a crutch. The pain was horrible, but seeing that satisfied grin on Black's face was a thousand times worse so. He refused to grunt or moan his pain as he stumbled towards the stairs.

"I could always throw myself down them and end this nonsense now." he whispered to himself with a bit of snark.

Though the thought was alluring, Snape knew that there was no point. Orders from both Voldemort and Dumbledore would have to be broken if it did, and if Snape broke his word to either the punishment was easily death. He managed, through some form of miracle, not to actually fall down the stairs, and ended up back in his bed, his body worn and tired and his mind in much of the same condition. And he still had classes tomorrow...

When Severus awoke the next morning, the pains where still there, but muted very much. He only felt the need to scream in pain about once every half-hour, and he had the energy to hold it back. However, he still skipped breakfast. Teachers were always meant to attend as a rule, but Snape decided that if he had to go through a torturous pain already, he should be allowed to skip his daily torture session. Breakfast was a chore of always trying to be ignored and never being able to be. There was always someone snooping on his eating habits, even after all these years that damn Minerva felt the dire need to remind him daily of his own blasted nutritional intake. Most of the teachers gave up trying to get Snape to eat more, or healthier, but it was still rare for a week to go by without someone mentioning it.

Instead, he stayed in the dungeons, taking an extra-long shower and skipping breakfast. Smiling to himself as he brushed his hair, Severus wondered briefly if he should feign further pain to avoid tomorrows breakfast, the extra time was well-welcome as was not having food shoved under his rather prominent nose.

After he had pulled up his trousers with a minimal pain, he stood in front of the mirror, as he did every day before he left his rooms. Some people would say he was vain, if they didn't know the only reason he checked the mirror was to make sure that he didn't look too horrid. Severus hated his appearance, but it wasn't as though there were much he could do about it. He stayed trim from not eating, but beyond that he felt that his entire being where a mistake.

'This thing inside of me must be praying for werewolf genes.' he thought as he buttoned his top and threw on his robe. 'Better to be a furry beast once a month than an ugly twat year-round.'

Finally Severus left his rooms, only three minutes before class. He planned it this way. He arrived in class late enough that he didn't have to stand for the students pointless babble, but early enough to catch the slimy brats who attempted to come to his teachings late. A perfect balance he'd worked out over the years, when he entered the room the entire student body silenced. The potions master gracefully and powerfully made his way to the front of the room, making no question to who was in charge, and started his class.


Ban: Hey guys! I've actually been writing this one for quite a long time! It may be a long wait until the next chapter, but I promise it will come, I have this story all planned out (unlike most) and really like it, so... Anyway, please review! I love reading them and it makes my day! See you next time!