Disclaimer: Nope, not mine, sorry! ;P
A/N
I know it sure has taken me long to post this and I'm really sorry, but I had a lot on my mind – University and real life in general, the usual culprits.
This story was started prior to Deathly Hallows and, due to the relationship between Albus Dumbledore and Severus "Snape" ;) that's presented in my story, it is and shall remain an AU. However, this story contains ideas that somewhat coincide with what J. K. Rowling wrote in the seventh book, but were actually written about the same time as the first chapter, give or take a few days, and I haven't decided whether to leave them as they are, or change them. That is, if I'm going to continue at all, but that's a question for later ;)
Enough rambling ;)
Lights! Camera! Action!!!
Chapter IV
Aftermath
The memories that followed covered the prophecy and what Dumbledore had done in order to ensure that it would be fulfilled… starting with his 'wilfully abandoning' his son at an orphanage and then doing virtually the same to his grandson… only, Severus' life had been much worse than anything Tobias had suffered – at the orphanage or later…
SSS
A relatively young Albus Dumbledore had been sitting at an old desk, perusing various papers, when he heard a soft knock on his door, followed shortly after by a young woman – Annabel Dumbledore, nee Rochester, his wife.
"Have you found anything interesting?" She asked as she moved to stand beside him, her rounded stomach a testament of her advanced pregnancy.
"Not really, my love." Albus said sadly, rising from his chair and offering it to his wife. She accepted gratefully and looked through some of the papers.
Dumbledore had spent a lot of his time reading through prophecies old and new, searching for as much information as he could on the subject of prophetic vision, trying to find at least one prophecy that could mean their salvation.
"Do you really believe you will find your answer in these foolish prophecies, Albus? We're at war and this…" She shook her head as she looked down at the scattered papers. "I really don't see how crystal balls and tea leaves can help us."
"This is different, Anna! This isn't the same thing – these are real prophecies, made by true Seers!" Albus argued hotly, taking out some of the frustration he felt at not having found anything of interest on his beloved wife and regretting it as soon as she stood up indignantly, prepared to leave.
"I don't have to sit here and listen to your yelling. We can talk when you're ready to act as a civilised, rational person!" The tone of her voice was enough to cool the worst of his anger.
"Anna…" He caught her arm to stop her departure. "Anna… I'm sorry." He held her by the shoulders and turned her so that she would face him. It pained him to see tears in her eyes. "I'm sorry, my love." He whispered softly, pulling her to him and enfolding her in a loving embrace, mindful of the child she was carrying. "I'm sorry."
And he really was sorry. He wasn't apologising for having snapped at her as much as for the fact that he hadn't had the time or even the mood to be with her; he hadn't been a very good husband of late – the weight of being among those leading the war against Grindelwald having proven to be too much for him.
"I just want to protect you – you and the little one – and there seems to be so little that I can do." He whispered against her hair, kissing the top of her head.
"I know, Albus. I understand, but you have to understand me as well." She looked up at him. "I… We are going to have a baby soon. I know you want nothing more than to make sure that the war is ended by that time, but time is short and you have to come to terms with the fact that it may not be possible. Your child will need to have a father – whether there is a war going on or not! I have to know that you will be there – for both of us! Some things are more important than others – family is the most important of them all!"
SSS
He'd already given up, he'd succumbed to his wife's reasoning and had abandoned his so far fruitless search for a prophecy that would bring hope to the Wizarding and the Muggle world… and it was only then that he'd found it!
It was only by accident that he'd stumbled upon a newly arrived prophecy while being at the Ministry of Magic. The sphere had appeared upon a desk, and when a passing wizard had hurried past it, his sleeve had got caught on the edge of the desk and it had been only due to Albus' quick reflexes that the prophecy hadn't crashed to the floor. He should have used a spell to catch it – prophecies could be dangerous when in the hands of a person they weren't meant for, but he'd had too little time to think on it. As he touched it, it called out to him… not literally, but he'd felt its pull – the prophecy was his to hear, and hear it he did.
A child, wilfully abandoned, to be raised in pain, darkness and despair, shall walk down the path of Darkness.
Irreversibly bound by its power, the child will find the strength to renounce the Darkness unfolding.
By mastering himself, the royal bumblebee will have to find the strength to conquer his past, present and future.
Walking in the shadows, he shall make the Darkness crumble from within, before it falls under an ancient power – severing all bonds and setting all free.
There'd been no author and the style was quite simple and straightforward – no rhymes or an abundance of colourful metaphors. Whoever was the author, Albus knew he liked him or her a great deal more than most Seers. While he'd been searching for a prophecy with something akin to desperation, he hadn't been as firm a believer in them as he'd made out to be. The prophecy appeared strangely clear, which was a rarity among prophecies, as many of them could never be deciphered at all.
Albus held the prophecy to his chest. Hope. There was Hope after all.
SSS
Shortly after his wife had given birth to a boy – whom they'd named Tobias (after Annabel's brother, who'd been killed in the war against Grindelwald) Percival (after his father, as it was one of Albus' names) – Albus came to the realisation that the prophecy would not unfold unless he did something about it.
But what?
He was fairly certain that the words pertained to his son, which gave him little hope for the nearest future, as the child would have to grow up before it could be fulfilled, but there was still the matter of the way the child had to grow up. The loving household Tobias had now was hardly filled with darkness – even if pain and despair did creep into it whenever Grindelwald made another massive attack and Albus could see no way to successfully counter his forces.
He had an idea, but his wife would never agree to it. Annabel didn't believe in prophecies and she would never allow for her child to be hurt – no matter what. Not that Albus himself wanted to see his son in pain… He didn't, he really didn't! He'd do anything to keep his son safe, but… But there was a bigger picture here. Besides, didn't the prophecy say that the bond to Darkness would be severed and that Tobias would eventually be free after the evil had been vanquished?
At least, it was implied, wasn't it? The man reasoned with himself.
Sacrifices had to be made for the greater good.
SSS
The solution came with the tragic death of Albus' dear wife, when Annabel was killed in an attack by Grindelwald's forces. It was through a miracle that Tobias himself had survived in the wreckage that had become of the Dumbledores' home and his father – still in a state of shock at having seen his beautiful, much loved wife dead – had made a vow to see to it that the perpetrator paid for his crimes! The first thing he did in order to see that happen was to leave his only child at the first Muggle orphanage he deemed to be a safe enough distance from the frontlines.
As he left the small boy to face an unknown destiny, unsure of whether he would ever see him again and very much aware that the baby was the only thing he had of his beloved wife, Albus knew that a piece of his heart had stayed in that ugly building with Tobias… just like another piece of it had died along with Annabel.
Did that mean that he had no heart left? That he could not love?
But who or what could he love, even if he did have a piece of his heart left? With Annabel gone and his son hidden away, he'd already lost everything he'd ever held dear… what else was there?
SSS
When he next saw his son, years after he'd given him up and some years after he'd attempted to find him once again, after Grindelwald's defeat, Albus felt a stirring within his heart that had been absent for far too long… only to have it quashed when he got to know the boy. This wasn't his son – he could not recognise his Annabel or even himself in the angry, cruel, hateful Slytherin.
Tobias Percival Snape
Tobias Percival Dumbledore
No, this boy wasn't who he was supposed to be.
Tobias Percival Snape he would remain, because that is who he'd grown up to be...
Or did he owe the boy the truth? Should he learn it? Then again, the boy hadn't even reached adulthood yet – there was still time, wasn't there? Perhaps the prophecy hadn't meant the Grindelwald war but a future one?
A nagging voice in his mind told him that it was his fault that Tobias had turned out the way he had. What had he been expecting – after having abandoned his son the way he had done?
He felt dead inside once more… What little hope he tried to maintain was not enough to keep his heart alive…
SSS
As Albus read the Daily Prophet, he flipped a page and his gaze was caught by the name: Severus Tobias Prince-Snape. This was the child of Eileen Prince-Snape and Tobias Snape. Seeing as Eileen was a pure-blood from a well-known, prestigious family, the Daily Prophet had been kind enough to give her son the name of 'Prince-Snape', instead of just 'Snape'. Such consideration must have cost a great deal of money, but that was a small price to pay in exchange for elevating the social standing of one's own child.
Severus Prince-Snape
Severus Prince-Dumbledore
A 'royal bumblebee'. The real child of the prophecy! Albus turned to read the announcement, his mind in a haze…
For the first time in years, he felt true hope flare in a powerful, vibrant flame. It was for that reason that he vowed to himself that he would not make the same mistake as he had with Tobias for the second time! He'd see to it that the prophecy was fulfilled and if at any time it seemed that he may have been mistaken regarding the prophecy's contents, he'd be there to step in and make sure that his grandson led the life that his son had been denied! He'd be there, watching and waiting, every step of the way – no matter how painful it would be. He'd help in any way he could, as long as it did not interfere with the outcome of the prophecy.
His heart stirred again… cautiously, in fear of facing another disappointment, but strongly nonetheless.
SSS
Albus loved his son, in his own way, and he always would, but it was an obligatory kind of love. Severus, his grandson, was an entirely different matter. Dumbledore genuinely liked what little he'd so far seen of the boy. Above all else, he admired the boy's strength of character and his intelligence – those characteristics were the most immediately apparent to him even at the necessary distance he kept from Severus. It pained him to see the effects his prophesised childhood had had on the young child… He loved the boy dearly! Had circumstances been different (namely: if he'd never come across that accursed prophecy or if he'd never made the connection between Severus' name and the child named within) Albus would have torn the boy away from his unworthy parents and, most likely, he would have spoilt his grandson rotten by lavishing him with love, affection and everything Severus' heart could desire…
Albus often dreamt of this. He dreamt of being a real grandfather to Severus. The old man found a profound pleasure in torturing himself with visions of a time that could not be. For the sake of the future of both the Muggle and magical world alike, Severus would have to suffer through childhood being not truly "unloved", but wholly ignorant of that fact just the same, which made such distinction pointless. It was cruel. Albus was being cruel. But that changed nothing…
Knowing that this was unavoidable did little to truly console Dumbledore, while at the same time the hope that it was worth it allowed him to go on.
SSS
When Severus resurfaced from the last memory, he left the office without a word, unable to face the old wizard's portrait and needing time to process what he'd learned before asking further questions.
He did feel that Minerva should have warned him of the emotions and thoughts that had accompanied the memories… He hadn't been prepared to witness Dumbledore's feelings the way he had.
It had been more painful than he'd have imagined – viewing those memories and seeing the Headmaster like that… he'd almost seemed alive…
He was in turmoil once again – just as he had been when he'd first confronted Dumbledore's portrait. This journey through memories had obviously been too much for him to handle right now. Severus hadn't managed to completely block out his emotions throughout the encounter and they'd risen to almost drown him in their chaotic, overwhelming flow… As he hurriedly swept through the castle corridors, he felt that he might suffocate under the onslaught of grief he was feeling… His vision blurred and he had to furiously blink back tears from his eyes.
Control. He needed control. He could not lose it – he could not allow himself such luxury again.
Severus wanted to stop, to try and regain his equilibrium, but he couldn't. He was running away, whether he was consciously aware of it or not, he was running from that office and from every place that held some kind of memory… Too bad that the old castle held nothing but memories for him… Every corridor, every room, every brick and every stone – even the shadows held secrets and whispered to him…
By a stroke of fate, his left arm chose exactly that moment to burn excruciatingly.
Well, the threat of death and much worse is one way to regain focus… He thought wryly, if somewhat absently, righting himself as he fought to regain enough control to stand without the support of the nearby wall – the sudden, intense physical pain had taken him completely by surprise, especially since he'd already been dealing with a great deal of emotional pain. He would have fallen, if not for the nearby wall, and he hadn't been able to stop himself from crying out, albeit softly.
The dark-haired man took a long, shuddering breath to clear his pounding head.
It was with a flicker of apprehension that he realised that he had no choice but to go and face Voldemort in a matter of minutes… the Dark Lord! He reminded himself. He was in no state for this audience – no matter that he had no idea what it might be about. Had the evil wizard realised that his Potions Master hadn't been brewing potions for him with the diligence that was expected of him, that he'd disappeared instead? Severus hoped that wasn't the case.
Slowly, he forced his mind to clear and built up powerful shields around himself – he had neither the time nor the strength for subtlety. If those walls crashed, all would be lost.
Another few minutes (or maybe fifteen) and Severus felt confident enough to start making his way out of Hogwarts. He didn't see a way to inform the Headmistress, not without wasting any more time. There was no way he could conjure up a Patronus – not in his current state of complete emotional withdrawal – and he didn't dare risk bringing those barriers down, even for a brief period of time – not when he would have to face the Dark Lord this evening. It had taken him long enough to lock his feelings away and, more importantly, he was fully aware that that was the only defence he was currently capable of, and it would arouse suspicion and prompt further probing, if noticed… His only true hope was that Vold… the Dark Lord… wouldn't have any reason to use Legilimency on him during the meeting.
He'd have to get his act together quickly, but it was impossible for him to do anything more tonight.
Hope.
Severus despised that word and what it represented: dependence. Hope made you dependent. It was like a drug – people needed it as much as (if not more than) the very air they breathed. Severus hated the feeling because it was one he himself was not entirely immune to. In his experience, hope had only ever brought him more pain than it was worth.
How he hated the feelings hope was inspiring in him now… Much more so than the ones his suspicious, pessimistic nature and life experience had awakened.
Things had been going quite smoothly of late – he'd been officially made the Dark Lord's right-hand man and he'd been given the title of Prince General. It wasn't an idle title either – he truly was the general of the Dark Lord's forces and the Death Eaters referred to him as either Prince General or just Prince. There was no need to play up his ties to the old Prince family by using a nifty nickname – he'd become a Prince in his own right, much to the consternation of Bellatrix Lestrange and some other Death Eaters who proclaimed themselves the Dark Lord's stoutest and most loyal supporters. Truth be told, Severus could hardly compete with them in that regard, seeing as he had no loyalty for Riddle whatsoever, but till yesterday he'd been the only person alive who'd known that to be the case. The Order's newly acquired knowledge was a source of serious concern for Severus, but he had no choice but to trust that Moody and Kingsley had been better Occlumency teachers than he had been to Potter. It had fallen to them to train the newest recruits in this difficult branch of magic… unfortunately, that didn't mean that they'd taken up teaching it to Potter or his friends.
Snape made a mental note to look into the matter when, or if, he got back.
SSS
Severus was just leaving the castle grounds when he saw a familiar figure making its way in his direction, but from the opposite side of Hogwarts' protective wards. Snape waited until the werewolf had stepped past them, he himself hiding from sight just to be on the safe side. The wards had been improved and they only allowed entry to members of the Order, and Flitwick had found a charm that rendered any person under the influence of the Imperius Curse, Mind-Controlling Potions, Polyjuice Potion or other means of disguise unconscious immediately upon stepping through the wards.
"I've been summoned, Lupin. Inform Minerva that I will return as soon as I am able." He said coldly and without preamble, not bothering with a greeting. Severus' face was perfectly expressionless but for the contemptible look in his dark, piercing eyes as they bore into the werewolf's brown ones.
Remus was startled: first by the man's sudden appearance and secondly by his cool address. Then again, it was Severus. Whether he was a 'Snape' or a 'Dumbledore', he was still the same person. His grandfather's friendly manner certainly didn't mean that he'd adopt it in light of the latest revelations… or at least Remus now realised that it didn't. In that moment Lupin felt like a complete fool. He was honest enough with himself to admit that he had indeed been expecting some change in Severus. Not that they'd become friends or anything, but…
He sighed and headed for the castle. Snape hadn't waited for a reply and had swept past him without so much as a second glance or a 'goodbye'.
He could have at least said 'Please' or 'Thank you'! Lupin thought sourly.
SSS
"Forgive me for not arriving sooner, my Lord." Severus said as he executed a ceremonial bow and kneeled before the snake-like man, who was sitting in a large, throne-like armchair, with his back to the fire crackling merrily in the fireplace. He raised his eyes, seeking permission to straighten himself, as well as to gauge his master's mood. The Dark Lord waved his hand slightly, bidding him to stand and tilting his head to the side to indicate that he expected further explanations.
Here goes nothing...
SSS
Severus' mental shields finally gave way and the past, along with the emotions he'd been holding back, came to the surface with a vengeance.
He stormed through the castle to seek refuge in the quarters Minerva had assigned for him, even as the last of his mental defences crumbled. His magic was already slipping out of his control, the pressure building in preparation for a storm which was sure to breed more than simple lightning and thunder, but a huge whirlwind that would leave devastation in its wake. It was starting already, but Severus didn't have any attention to spare to either notice or care.
The moment the door closed behind him, Severus took a few stumbling steps and collapsed on the bed… crying. He hated this. He hated his weakness, but for the life of him, as the sobs racked his thin body, there was no strength left within him to stop them…
So much for Occlumency... So much for self-control...
It took several hours before the violent venting of his pain and anger finally rendered him completely numb and too exhausted to move a muscle.
Throughout the night, Severus drifted in and out of a fevered sleep: moving between, and waking from, one nightmare after another; facing fully-fledged flashbacks, when the dreams transformed into the harsh realities of his past that he most wished to forget; or seeing horrific visions of a future that was, impossibly, even worse...
A/N
Should I continue? Is there any point or anyone who'd want to read it? The fate of this story lies in your hands ;)
Thank you to everyone who's ever reviewed and I hope you enjoyed my version of events.
All the best!!!
Gucia
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