Chapter 7: Consequences

Severus was wandering about the garden when his mark burned, summoning him back to where the Dark Lord plotted against the prophecy Severus heard. He rushed back, impatient to know what he had decided.

The Dark Lord was no longer in the dining hall, but in a smaller, more comfortable drawing room. Curtains hung from the wall like tapestries and the furniture was as heavy and antique as it was appeasing to the eye. A small table in the center of the room held a few glasses and a bottle of elf wine. Only the finest for such an occasion. Severus remembered all the times he and Lucius had curled up in this cozy space with the fire crackling and the heat washing over the pair of them. The room held a longing for Severus that made him almost regret pushing Lucius so far away, then the Dark Lord spoke and pulled him back into the present.

"Bellatrix tells me that there are very few who fit the description you have given me Severus. In fact, there are only two." The Dark Lord seemed out of place in such an incandescent accommodation. He was seated in one of the green velvet chairs in front of the fireplace. He wasn't facing Severus, but kept his eyes on the blazing fire in front of him. The wine in the middle of the room was corked, but the wax seal at the mouth of the bottle had been opened. Severus knew enough about the company he kept to not touch it, but when the Dark Lord turned to offer it to him he could not help but take a drink.

It was sweet on his tongue, dry, with a bit of an earthy taste. He set down his glass gently. "I suppose Lucius has already spoken with you?"

The Dark Lord nodded gravely. "I know which boy I must go after. The boy's name is Harry Potter. I believe you and his mother were friends in school."

Severus's stomach launched itself into his throat. "My Lord!" he choked out. "Please, please do not hurt her!"

The Dark Lord's face seemed unfazed by his outburst. "It's not her that I am after. If she stands aside and allows me to take the boy there will be no harm to come to her."

Severus struggled to breathe. "Please sir, there must be another way!"

"You said it yourself Severus, the boy must be destroyed."

"No! No, no, no, no…" Severus lost his regulated self-control and was sure he sounded like a mad man. This couldn't be happening. Not to Lily. Not because of him. "You can't be serious! He is a child! You yourself said that they were not to be harmed! How can you go back on that?" He couldn't stop what he was saying, and at once he realized what was in that bottle of lavish elf wine.

"I hardly need to explain my actions to you," the Dark Lord's voice was sneering and Severus could feel the relationship and trust he built over the past few years crumbling. "You are dismissed from my presence. You may be able to return if you can control your discomposure."

Severus turned on the spot and Disapparated from Malfoy Manor, determined to never return, to never trust another person. He popped into the cold, dark cemetery and collapsed on his mother's grave. He tore the sleeve of his robe on his left arm and there the dark mark lay. At one time it was a status symbol, but now it stared back at him, mocking him. He took out his wand and aimed it at the blemish, but no matter what spell he used, it remained. He yelled, from the depths of his soul he yelled, clutching his now injured arm, until his voice was hoarse and his body shook. He wasn't sure if it was from the events that took place, or from the cold, or from anguish, but the only thing he could bring himself to do was shiver and cradle his arm as his blood soaked the headstone beneath him.

What could he do? Every plan seemed as impossible as the next. There was no way he could keep Lily safe, not by himself. The Dark Lord made up his mind and was determined to go through with it. Silently he cursed Lucius, but found himself unable to place the blame on him.

"I did this," he said to the empty night air. "This is my fault. I should have never trusted them. I should have never trusted him." He sat back and stared at the ground, wishing it would give him answers.

Eileen Snape

Born 23-2-1933

Died 2-5-1978

The headstone gave no rebuttal, but he noticed something different, something that wasn't there when he last visited. A few feet to his right there was another stone engraved with the same melancholy attitude.

Tobias Snape

Born 6-7-1929

Died 6-4-1980

His father was dead. He only knew his father to be one of his greatest aggressors, but an odd feeling struck him. It wasn't the same pang of depression when he learned of the death of his mother. Severus still remembered that day clearly in his mind. He was brought up to the Headmaster's office, and sat down across from Albus Dumbledore with Slughorn's hand resting sympathetically on Severus's shoulder. The feeling that his father's death brought wasn't woefulness, or even malcontent. He felt pity. Pity for a man who only knew how to hate and bully. He didn't want to end up that way.

Severus composed himself and stood up straight with a brand new surge of determination. It was late in the night, so late he doubted if a message would reach the person intended in time, but there was no time to waste. The Dark Lord had a plan and now Severus did as well. He would have to face the consequences of his actions, and pay dearly for them. He would have to repent for everything, and face an artillery of fingers pointed at his back, and possibly a painful death. This he would endure, for her safety. He would go to the man who now surely hunted him. He would go to Albus Dumbledore.