2.

"Licorice Snaps." he barked as he approached the Gargoyle guarding the headmasters office. The stone creature eyed him wearily for a moment. He had a generally poor relationship with the various ornaments, paintings and semi-sentient artifacts that littered the old castle, his interactions with them rarely passed without an indignant 'I never', 'In my day' or the occasional rant regarding 'Young whippersnappers'. The gargoyle seemed to sniff haughtily before finally stepping aside, producing the ascending staircase to the office. Severus tapped his hand against his thigh impatiently, he'd never understood the need for the overly complicated staircase. The ascent was certainly not high enough to warrant the automation for the purpose of comfort, and the irritating slowness of it certainly didn't save any time.

With muttered ramblings of the indignities of muggle lifts, he crossed the small reception area outside the office and proceeded without delay to push the massive oak doors open.

"Albus!" He barked as he entered the spacious room. The headmaster, seated behind his ornate desk, looked up from his parchment peering at him from under his half-moon spectacles.

"By all means, Severus, do come in." he said in a somewhat tired drawl, laced as it was with guarded mirth. "Now, what can I do for you?"

"You could start by explaining what the fuck-" he managed to scream, before noticing that no sounds were escaping him. He looked upon Albus murderously. The older wizard still had his wand pointed at him from casting the silencing charm.

"Now, Severus, while there are very few students in the castle at the moment, this is still an educational institution. Do try to keep civil." he admonished lightly, though the nearly ever present twinkle in his eyes belied his amusement at the outburst.

Severus paced angrily in front of the desk for a moment, before slumping heavily into the plush dragonhide armchair facing the headmaster. Glaring daggers at the older man, he eventually nodded his assent. Albus flicked his wand again, canceling the charm, meeting his eyes expectantly. Severus worked his jaw tightly for a moment before speaking.

"I finished a new formula today." he seethed.

"One would think such a feat would put you in a better mood, it usually does after all?"

'Hardly a feat' he mused despondently to himself 'with those side-effects I'll be lucky to sell it as a poison'

"It reverses the effects of obliviation" he clarified, fixing Albus with a murderous gaze once more.

The aged headmaster stared blankly at him for a moment, saying nothing. Severus wondered briefly if he was plotting his escape, or perhaps mentally preparing to duel him right there in the office.

"So... you know, then?" he finally asked tentatively.

Severus said nothing, but simply kept his eyes firmly fixed on the other man. Albus waited a moment before sighing deeply.

"What do you want me to say, Severus?"

"Why don't we start with 'why'?"

~···························~

Albus lingered by the small dresser behind his office, filling a snifter with a measure of fine brandy from the ever present crystal decanter. Bringing it to his nose, he savored the aroma before allowing himself a generous sip of the amber liquid. He gestured slightly to Severus with the glass in inquiry, but received a curt shake of the head in response. Wincing inwardly, simple placating pleasantries would not work it would seem. He wandered back to his chair and sat down.

"We still needed you, Severus," he began tentatively, twirling the glass around, pretending to study it intently "Voldemorts followers are still about, and you're the only one left on the inside."

"I understand why you wanted me to remain at my... post" he sneered "What I don't understand is why you kept my memories from me" his voice rose steadily in volume as he spoke. He got to his feet and slammed both hands hard against the tabletop.

"You were supposed to undo the charm as soon as the mission was complete." he seethed "So why didn't you? The Dark Lord is gone!"

Albus held up a hand to halt the tirade.

"Do you remember when you came to see me after the attack at Godrics Hollow, Severus?" he said sadly.

"I-" Severus bristled, turning away from the older wizard to hide the flash of anguish that crossed his face.

"I told you then that it was not over... He will return, Severus, and when he does the girl will be in terrible danger. She had to be protected, protection you could not provide."

"I'm her father!" he roared as he turned on the man "You had no right! No right to use my family for your twisted-"

"Whatever I have done," Albus said menacingly, standing to meet his gaze over the desk "I have done in service to the wizarding world... For the greater good, Severus."

Severus turned around and stalked over to a window off the side of the office. Grabbing the windowsill, working his knuckles white as he collected himself.

"Where is she, Albus?" he asked softly after a long, uncomfortable silence "Where is my little girl?"

Albus blanched slightly, it was unusual for his potions master to be soft spoken. The man sounded nearly broken as he spoke the words. He sighed.

"Severus, I must insist that you think it over, she is safest where she is."

"I will be taking her, Albus. You can delay it, but it will happen."

"The wards rely on-"

"Yes, yes, I know. I am fully capable of protecting her, Albus, I'll put the house under the Fidelius, just..." he paused exasperated "just tell me where she is."

Albus stared at him for a moment, his jaw working tentatively while he considered his options. Severus was correct, the man was not a fool after all, even without assistance he would find the girl. Any refusal on his part would only serve to drive a valuable ally away from him. And there were other concerns to consider; despite himself, and the fact that he normally had no trouble distancing himself from the decisions he had to make, he did care for the boy, and even considered him if not a friend, then at least more than simply an acquaintance.

"Lilys sister" he admitted, finally, regarding Severus carefully.

"You-" he sputtered "You put her with the muggles?"

"Severus-" Albus began, but was cut off briskly.

"Where. is. She?"

"Surrey" he muttered "Little Whingin, Privet Drive."

Severus said nothing else, he turned on his heels and stormed out of the office, leaving the headmaster behind, lips pressed thin under his ample beard.

~···························~

He all but stumbled down the steps of the main entrance and out onto the grounds. It was now near mid day, the weather having warmed considerably as the last vestiges of winter gave way to spring. He strode purposefully down towards the main gates and the nearest disapparation point. He walked past the path down to the Black Lake and glanced down towards the waters edge briefly, catching a glimpse of a lone tentacle splashing in the shallows. Despite the indignities he'd suffered here as a student, he still found the grounds peaceful on any normal day. Today, however, was not a normal day. He had to stop halfway down the path, feeling himself on the verge of hyperventilating. He raised his face towards the sky with closed eyes and took a few steadying breaths.

'I should have known' he berated himself 'Somehow, I should have known'

He reached the front gates, passing by the towering ornate totems topped with winged boars. He strode a few yards yet down the path, until he felt himself pass through the outermost of the massive wards, and immediately felt his body contort into nothingness, and with a crack he dissaparated.

In the same instant, a loud crack rang through a deserted alley just off Preshwick Lane on the outskirts of the sleepy suburb of Little Whinging, Surrey. Severus Snape took a moment to observe his surroundings, making sure that his entrance had gone unnoticed. It was not normally a problem, muggles, in general, did not notice those things they did not expect to see or that which their minds could not make sense of. One still needed to be careful though, there was always the off chance that one would be noticed, children especially were irritatingly perceptive, muggle and magical alike.

Satisfied he had not been noticed, Severus took the time to chastise himself for not thinking to at the very least replace his robes for something less... noticeable. Having little patience for doing any alterations using his wand, being quite certain he'd be unable to do anything but a botched job of it in his present state, he decided that his robes would simply have to pass for a long trench coat. He stalked out onto the street and began his search. It occurred to him quickly that he had little idea on how he was to find the correct address. Albus had provided him with the street name, 'Mighty generous of him', but he had little in the way of directions, and certainly no map to consult. He was sure one could be found easily in any muggle records office, but he had had close to no interactions with the muggle world since the early seventies. He passed by a buss stop, and consulted the chart in search for clues, but was quickly disappointed when he realized that while the board did hold a map, it showed only a route diagram, and not the surrounding environs. He was quickly growing frustrated with his predicament, but most of all with his feeling of helplessness. He was a grown wizard after all, yet here he was, as lost as a small child who wanders off from his parents on his first outing to Diagon Alley.

He decided that a methodical search was the only solution to the issue, and he stalked the streets of the suburban community for ours without results. The fact that every street, and indeed every house was identical in both construction, but strangely enough even in way of decoration, gardening choices and in most cases even the cars parked on the small driveway out front were of a similar make, model and color. He decided he found it monumentally depressing. The neighborhoods were affluent enough, far more so than his own upbringing, but the sterility was sure to stifle any form of creativity or expression. The neighborhoods of his native Cokeworth had suffered from the very sameness of architecture that he saw here, of course, but the people who lived there had been far more varied in how they chose to present their homes, and a place that felt more stifling than Spinners End was not a place to be held in high regard. He passed by the occasional muggle out for a late evening stroll, a light jog or walking their dogs, and he was grateful for the notice-me-not charm he had cast shortly after beginning his grid search. The sun had set long ago now, and he stopped at an intersection to fish his pocket watch out of his waistcoat. 'Nearly ten-o-clock' he mused. He might have to give up for the evening, urgent or not, calling on someones home this late , even though it was Saturday, was not likely to go over kindly.

He had just about resolved to return tomorrow instead, when a familiar figure standing on the sidewalk further down the street caught his eyes. The woman was short and looked quite frail, dressed in a sun-kissed tweed coat that had once been bright pink stood watching over a not-so-small glaring of cats. 'Arabella Figg'. He'd gotten to know the woman during the war. A squib, but a competent information gatherer in her own right and as such, despite her lack of magical ability a full-fledged member of the Order. He refused to believe her presence there was an accident. While it was not uncommon for squibs to take up residence in the muggle world, Arabella was, much like the Hogwarts caretaker Argus Filch, much too eccentric to do so with any real effectiveness. He approached the woman slowly, but without creeping, and could hear her alternating between tutting and cooing at the little herd of felines around her feet as he got closer. He muttered a quiet finite and cleared his throat.

"Arabella..." he said, carefully measuring his voice but failing to put any warmth behind it, fake or otherwise.

The frail woman gasped and turned her face quickly to face him.

"Who-?" she started, but soon recognition shone over her features "Professor Snape, sir?"

"Indeed."

"What might you be doing here at this hour, professor? Awfully late to stroll among the muggles it is, not that I mean to pry of course, but-"

Severus held up a hand to stop her "I'm looking for something... or rather someone, Arabella. Might you know the way to Privet Drive?"

"Why, yes professor" she said carefully "It's just over there, two streets over" she pointed due west

"I'm-" he began, silently debating with himself if he should engage the woman further, or keep the reason for his presence to himself. Deciding to throw caution to the wind, he continued "I'm looking for someone... Holly Evans."

"Oh" Arabellas eyes widened noticeably "... why?" she asked worriedly.

"She's-" he berated himself for his insecurity, suddenly feeling 15 again having just been caught inside the restricted section without permission "... my daughter." he finished quietly.

It was dangerous information, he knew, and part of him was shocked that he had given it so freely. Another part of him, however, reasoned that an Order member could surely be trusted, at least to a point. And after all, he had already resolved to deal with the situation. One way or the other, his days as an infiltrator was over. After all, having a child with a muggleborn witch was not something the former cronies of the Dark Lord would look too favorably upon.

Arabella regarded him silently for a moment before responding.

"I can see that," she said finally, and Severus was momentarily taken aback by the acknowledgment "Has your hair, she does, professor. All black and straight-like it is"

He stared at her blankly, unsure of what to say. He was a private man, unwilling to show emotions publicly or in front of anyone at all, but he could feel his heart warm at the words. 'She looks like me?' The last time he'd seen her she'd been barely 7 months old, far too early to discern any permanent distinguishing features. The mop of hair had been black then as well, of course, but the eyes had been nearly pitch black as well. He'd once joked that she looked a bit like a shark going for the kill, or a goblin who'd just landed a big commission. Much to Lilys chagrin.

"Well-" he said, clearing his throat "Would you happen to know which number..."

"Oh yes professor, the Dursley family lives at number four." she provided, seemingly quite satisfied about being able to help "Though I suppose I should..." she trailed off.

"Yes?" he prodded impatiently.

Arabella looked quite uncomfortable and apprehensive.

"Well, you see professor, there's something... not right, in that house." she explained, wringing her hands together.

"In what way?"

"Well, the girl, she's all quiet like, she is. And so small, even for her age I'd say. And dressed in rags most days"

Severus blanched at this. He was an educator after all, he'd seen the signs often enough.

"Comes over to mine now and then she does, the girl. 'Aunt Petunia told me to go away' she'll say. And eat like her life depends on it she will, too, even when It's just plain cabbage I can offer she'll eat a mighty helping..."

Severus stood rigidly in place, grinding his teeth.

"That way, you said?" he asked in a low voice, nodding slightly westward.

"Yes, quite right professor."

"Ver well." he said, starting to stride off quickly towards Privet Drive. After walking a few steps, he stopped, and after standing still a moment he glanced over his shoulder "Thank you, Arabella."

The woman nodded meekly before turning back to her cats once more.

~···························~

The house on number four seemed deserted at first glance. No car in the driveway, and completely dark except for a faint light coming from what he assumed to be the kitchen. He decided to take his chances. He could handle Petunia Evans when he was 10, he could certainly do so now if the need should arise. He approached the door carefully, not wishing to set off any wards, or Merlin forbid, a muggle alarm system. He pointed his wand at the lock, hearing the bolt slide away easily from the locking charm.

He made his way into the dark hallway. He He could see the door to the kitchen further down the hall, slightly ajar. There was indeed a faint light coming from within, a single light bulb if he'd care to guess. The house was immaculate, it smelt strongly of artificial citrus, and it reminded him of the muggle hospital he'd had to visit once as a child after one of Tobias more indulgent weekends. He shuddered involuntarily and walked softly further into the hallway. He saw a small hatch at the base of the stairs, it was hanging open and he peered inside. There was a light on, a bare bulp hung from the low ceiling, he frowned. On the floor was a thin mattress, a lumpy pillow and a worn, gray blanket. On the shelves that acted as bedpost for the impromptu bed were stored an assortment of what could only be described as 'rubbish'; a few broken tin soldiers, a story book of some sort with it's cover missing that seemed to have been submerged in water at some point and a half-ball of orange yarn. A feeling of dread crept up along his spine, 'Surely not...'

His head snapped to the left has he heard a very faint, muffled noise from the kitchen. He moved to investigate, approaching the sightly open door very carefully. He peered inside, at first he could see nothing, but after shifting his position to look further down the length of the kitchen he could see her, for the first time in over four years he laid eyes upon his daughter. A very small shape sat at the kitchen table, or more accurately, kneeling upon one of the chairs to properly reach the tabletop. He could identify the sounds now, soft sobs and sniffles. She appeared to be cutting band-aid from a roll, a muggle first-aid kit sat on the table in front of her, but the child's hands appeared to be shaking. He glanced in the other direction into the kitchen itself, to make sure there was no one else there at the moment. His eyes fell upon the refrigerator, and he felt another twinge of fear as he saw it was bolted shut with a padlock. At that moment, he heard another sound coming from the girl at the table, a hicup followed by a shaky exhale. His heart ached at the sound, and unable to stop himself any longer, he walked into the kitchen gently and approached the table.

The girl seemed to be very aware of her surroundings, she turning sharply on the chair, letting out a small, strangled squeel.

"Holly..." he whispered almost inaudibly, but sure that the girl had heard him as he saw her eyes widen further.