Author's Note: I'm going to try really hard to finish this story this year, but don't hold your breath. I never thought this would happen to a story I've worked on for nearly 4 years. But with the release of the seventh book and most of my assumptions confirmed about certain characters, the story needed to be re-written. But then I found it troubling to do since I'd come up with a few of my own characters and didn't want to kill them off or completely write them out, so here I am, yet again re-writing my precious story. Only thing is, it can't be posted here. So I'm going to be nice and post the older version, which is utter crap and more than a little disjointed, and post the re-write in a new story under the name Broken Pedestal. Now I warn you that Broken Pedestal is completely different from this and yet this will have some spoilers for Broken Pedestal. Read at your own risk, though I suggest waiting for the re-write.

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter.


Severus stepped out of the fireplace in an abandoned flat somewhere in muggle Chicago, Illinois. From there he apparated to his home in Salt Lake City, Utah. He appeared in a shed that was on the property. It was unused, except by Snape, and housed a hidden door in the back. The door connected to the attic in the house that was farther on the land. It worked much like many of the secret passages through out Hogwarts.

Though, Hogwarts was far from Severus' mind. The time difference between Europe and Mountain time in North America was such an extreme variation that Severus felt as if he'd travelled backwards through it.

Speaking of time. . .

Severus looked at the clock on the wall. He was now standing before his bedroom door, poised ready to enter. It was 4 a.m. and through the clear face of the sun shaped clock he could see storm clouds. The clouds made the night eerily dark. The sky looked purple and lightening illuminated the clouds randomly. He could hear thunder over the ticking of the second hand and the rain had yet to fall. The weather very nearly matched his mood.

There was a break in the cloud coverage as he stood there glancing at it. The light of the waning full moon spilt over Severus. Darting into his room he quickly emptied his pockets of the previously shrunken objects. He thoughtlessly threw them on the bed--later finding himself grateful for the protection and unbreakable charms he'd placed on his things before hand. He hurriedly divested himself of his robes and emerged from his room in black slacks and his white button-up shirt.

He berated himself for forgetting the monthly healing brew for the dratted Werewolf. "If things keep going the way they are, I'll kill those witches," he snarled.

Snape's makeshift potions lab was in the basement of the two-story, earth sheltered, Tudor style house(1). With the house being built into the rock-face of the land the basement was given a dungeon like appearance that gave Snape the feeling of being back in Hogwarts. He had to make his way down the stairs to the ground floor of the house. On his way to the kitchen to get to the basement door he had to pass by the family room. It was there his attention was drawn, causing him to come to a stop.

The design of the room made him sneer. Everything on the ground floor was muggle friendly and he--of course-- had no say in the decoration. Though there was one framed photo sitting on the mantle above the fireplace that his eyes immediately traveled to. It was the only photo of him within public viewing. There were others in the picture with him; his family. A family that he'd been successful in hiding from the wizarding world thus far.

He took a closer look at the picture, focusing entirely on it that the rest of his surroundings were completely forgotten. It was there, in vibrant colours, the reason he'd been avoiding coming home for nearly a year. Snape's eyes focused on the slightly smiling woman in the picture. His hands rested on her shoulders, seeming to hold him in place since he didn't fit the sunny scenery with his black robes and indifferent expression. The picture had been taken under a large weeping willow before a beautiful expanse of blue lake. It was the last time he'd joined his little family on a holiday.

The woman was still beautiful even to him. She had been his wife, a talented witch whose family dated back to the first Pharaohs of Egypt. Snape had kept his union with her a secret from all but her surviving family and the muggles she had to deal with on a daily basis. He had always feared the news getting back to wizarding Britain.

Her name was Sahaar. She had creamy skin the colour of the Sahara desert, thick black hair that fell just passed her shoulders, a captivating yet tricky smile, and green eyes that could pierce through his very soul and see the truth--his secrets-- better than any legilimens or veritaserum. Her eyes reminded him of Lily Evens (he refused to see her as a Potter); they were both intelligent and of a shade rarely ever seen. He had their deaths on his hands.

He looked away from her, his eyes traveling to another face in the picture. It was a young girl that looked just like Sahaar, even with her curly hair. Severus supposed it had to be from having a mixed heritage. The only thing Genna got from Snape was his snarky attitude and dark habits. Just as he, Genna wasn't smiling. She was the oldest of the other children in the frame. Marcus and Aurelius, the twins, looked as though they could be Snape's clones had it not been for the wide smiles and playful attitude they exuded. He remembered how they had been picking on Genna, the cause of her folded arms and frown.

There were times when Snape liked to believe that the 'happy' little family ended there. It wasn't that the youngest two were snot nosed brats--they were just the opposite. It was simply the fact that being the legal guardian and sire of five children was a strain on a man who shouldn't even have one. Sean and Alice were the youngest of his bunch. They both had the same smile as their mother and were less of a hassle to deal with than the first three.

Snape considered himself to be an above average intelligent man, though, he couldn't help the thought that the countless imbeciles he was surrounded by rubbed off on him. To have had a number of children that almost rivaled the Weasleys was not his idea of smart. He knew where the fault lied; Sahaar was cunning enough for any natural born Slytherin since she'd managed to outsmart Snape in giving him child after child.

He snorted. Sahaar never let him forget that he enjoyed being a father when he had the time to be there. But now wasn't the time to reminisce.

He turned away from the room, continuing on his way to the lab. There were things in the present and planed to happen in the near future that took precedent.


Harry sat on the stairs, listening to what parts of the news broadcast floated up to him. The Dursleys were seated on the couch watching, content to ignore the 'freak's' very existence. Harry didn't mind not being in the same room as them, he just wanted to hear the news. Ever since he'd gotten back at the end of the school year things had been different. Moody and the others had given Uncle Vernon a warning, simultaneously informing the man that his godfather--Sirius-- was dead. He wished they hadn't done that, then perhaps he'd have some chance to fully appreciate the effect of the Order's threat.

As it stood now, he was left to his own devices for the most part, yet every now and then Vernon or Dudely would say certain things loader than necessary. They would say rude things about Sirius and Harry's parents. Had the Dursleys been brave enough to say such negative things in-front of him, Harry was sure they would have been blown up like Aunt Marge had in third year.

He sighed. The news casters had just finished a story on yet another incident in Egypt. He thought how lucky it was that Bill had stopped working on the Pyramids last year. He wasn't sure if the murders in Egypt had anything to do with Voldemort. He'd tried asking in one of the letters he sent the Order regularly, but no one knew. He wondered if maybe it was just a coincident, or if some random muggle set off one of the old curse traps.

Well, whatever it was, he was giving up on it for the time being. Deciding to get an early start on another long and sleepless night filled with nightmares, Harry stood as quietly as he could, so as not to 'disturb' the Dursleys, and made his way up the steps to his room. He really should have tried harder to learn occulmency.


Severus had come back home sometime before dawn and went straight for his bed after taking a healing potion and sleeping drat. After the Death Eater meeting he had gone immediately to Dumbledore, hoping to prevent the inevitable for just a little bit longer.

He first informed the man of his progress on the mission and asked to be removed from it. Dumbledore readily agreed. He then told the Headmaster of the unbreakable oath that Narcissa forced him into. Though Dumbledore's twinkle had all but diminished he expressed his thoughts on believing there was another way around it.

Finally, Severus explained to Dumbledore the true reason for his visit: the Death Eater meeting. On the rare occasion that Voldemort was content enough, some of his followers would relatively leave unscathed. This was not one of those times. Though Severus was one of the 'lucky' few to not to have endured more than one extended round of the cruciatus he still had it rather worse.

From the moment that Severus had felt the mark burn he knew something was wrong. He'd grabbed his cloak and mask and apparated to the site as soon as he possibly could. He was late, having come all the way from the states, and was sure he had a punishment coming.

He wasn't wrong. For it wasn't a normal meeting. Only those of the 'Inner Circle' were lined in a semi-circle before Voldemort.

Though he couldn't be sure of exactly what he had coming, he knew to act fast. He apologized profusely for being late after paying his 'respect' to 'his lord' and then proceeded to step back in line with the others.

Voldemort had different plans. He jumped from his dais and seemed to be headed right for Snape. Severus quickly employed every olccumency trick he had; and with good measure as well.

Voldemort had grabbed Severus forcefully by the neck and started to squeeze. Severus tried to ignore the pain, the burning in his lungs as every breath was denied him. It wasn't until Voldemort started to question him had he any clue to what was happening."Tell me, my black snake, why were you late?" he asked, vile spittle from the inhuman, snake-like mouth landing on Severus' cheek. He squeezed just a little more before loosening enough for Severus to take in a gulp of air and answer.

He chocked out a reply. "Dumbledore– had a meeting– refused to let me go–early.""Anything of use," Voldemort said with interest."N–no, my lord. It was more of a social gathering." Severus smoothly lied. He had regained enough breath to talk normally.

Voldemort growled. There was more. "That's beside the point, Snape," Voldemort sneered. He flung Severus to the floor, nails scratching Severus' neck as he did so. "I have brought you here to inform you that there will be search, a demand of your loyalty. You see, one of you have betrayed me; one of you is a spy. Once I've found you, death shall be a pretty thing."He whipped around and with a sneer called out "Crucio!". Severus twitched on the ground, the feeling of a thousand hot needles pricking him as his muscles spasm beyond his control. He bit down on his lip to keep from crying out in pain.

Voldemort soon tired of Severus and then moved on to torturing one of the others. The man's screams ended with Voldemort's cry of traitor and then a quickly murmured Avada Kadavra.

. . . . . . . . . .

Severus pulled himself from his thoughts; vision clearing as his eyes opened to bring him back to the present. It was a Friday, sometime before noon. He was home alone. He had to make a decision, had to come up with something. He growled in frustration as he ran a hand over his face then through his hair. A semblance of a plan began to present itself to him.

An hour latter he was still sitting in his room--contemplating and debating on rather or not to carry out and enact his newly formed plan that very night--Severus let his eyes travel to the photo on the stand next to his bed. It was a muggle picture of his five kids. He adverted his eyes from the photo, not wanting to think of them for the time being. No, he had too much on his mind already. If he were to let his mind settle on the children in that picture he'd never go through with things that had already been finalized. He just didn't know if he could draw his 'borrowed' time out any more than what he already had. His life was set and they fit no where in it.

His gaze wondered over the simple yet lavish room. No one who 'knew' Snape would have a hard time believing that he lived there from time to time. The walls looked like rust, painted in a creamy brown and gold; the hangings over the large bay windows where a thick velvet of red and black; a four-poster bed made of a dark mahogany had black sheer hangings that went all around sat in the center of the room.

There was very little else, other than a chest at the foot of the bed, a wardrobe between the doors of the closet and master bath, and a rather large, black, leather arm chair to the side of the brick fireplace that was built into the wall across from the windows.

Severus got out of bed, reveling in the feel of the lush black carpet under his toes. He put on his burgundy satin robe and left the room. He still had a few hours before he had to leave.

Coming into the small kitchen, Severus made a pot of tea and some toast and set about weighing the pros and cons of what he begun calling "the decision." A knock at the door interrupted his musing. The wards around the house did not alert him to any possible danger.

'Must be a muggle' Severus thought. It was too early on a Friday morning for it to be anyone else. He started to grow rather suspicious. There were not many people who would know of his being there, especially at that time, let alone know that he would be awake. He gave himself three guesses, although he only needed cast a quick reading spell just to be sure of who it was. Silver smoke formed before him, spelling out:

'Hag'

No weapon

Angry

Sighing in exasperation Severus stood to answer the door. He was unsurprised to see an old woman with her graying black hair pulled tightly in a bun. He scowled at his dead wife's pseudo aunt. She brushed past him, anger rolling of her in nearly tangible waves. He turned to face her after silently counting to ten while closing the door.

"You listen here, young man," she said wagging 'the finger' in his face. Severus repressed the urge to snap at it and settled on looking mildly interested in what she had to say while inwardly plotting her demise.

"You will do no such thing," she continued. "You are unfit--disappearing for months at a time to god knows where doing only who knows what. You're a dark and evil bastard. I can feel in my bones. You're no good for them. No good," her voice began to rise in her anger. "I don't know why I let you carry on like this. But not this time. You will do no such THING!" She had an odd ability to know when Severus was home and planning something that would involve the kids. Even though, he words held some truth, Severus wasn't about to let her have her have her way.

The rant finally over and Severus, already feeling rather unlike himself, let his mask slip. The old woman stepped back from him, the look of malice on his face and uncovered hatred in his eyes scaring her.

"You would do well to remember what I am capable of. I do not have to listen to a damn thing that comes out of your foul, rotting mouth. Nor would I leave anything of mine in your possession." he let his voice drop to a whisper that promised death to any who would dare go against his wishes. "As of today you are no longer their guardian and have no say in what I do with them.

"Now, if you would kindly remove yourself from my presence and home perhaps I'll let you live another hour." He ended with walking away from her shivering form knowing that she would leave the house and not come back for quite some time. It was the way he liked it. Admittedly, he could end with the same results without threatening her life but it wasn't quite as fun.

He spent the rest of the morning locked in the basement--his makeshift potions laboratory--with one thing on his mind. He had to give them up. Of course he wouldn't leave them with that vile, old woman, but there was someone who he trusted enough with their care. So he went about the day as normal as possible, even though he knew it would be the last moments he would spend within the one place he could ever call home.


Reiteration: This is a posting of the early versions of Broken Pedestal. I have no intention of continuing posting under this story after the last chapter is up. As such, this version of the story wont stay posted on this site for very long, yet since it was added to several communities and on alerts I thought to give readers a preview - if you will - to let them know I have not, nor will I, abandon this story. Check out for Broken Pedestal instead.