Chapter 7 –in which histories are discussed

She couldn't help laughing when Severus entered Honeydukes for the first time since his schooldays, popped a sherbet ball in his mouth, and began panicking when he realised that he was hovering. They bought some Every Flavour Beans and sugar-spun quills, and continued on to Zonko's, where Snape purchased a new wizard chess set. Hermione remarked that she was no good at chess and didn't really see the point, and Snape replied,

"Well, its all about logic, Hermione, and planning and tactics and foresight and cunning, and strategy and brains, elements in which, I am afraid, you are sorely lacking."

She glanced sharply up at him. The potion couldn't be wearing off, could it? Snape smiled. He had been joking. She returned the smile.

"I could teach you, if you like. I get tired of being on both sides all the time."

They walked in silence, not really heading in any direction at all, Snape planning which gambits to teach her first, and Hermione reflecting upon his last comment with a thoughtful frown. Eventually they stopped, and leaned on the fence which enclosed the Shrieking Shack. It was falling down by now. The place held a lot of memories for both Hermione and Severus.

"Severus?"

"Yes, Hermione?"

"I don't know anything about you. Earlier you mentioned that you had already defected to Dumbledore ten years ago. But how did you become a Death Eater, and why did you change your mind? – I'm sorry. It doesn't matter. I'm being too nosy."

"Not at all," said Snape, sighing. He remained gazing at the derelict, crumbling house, and said in a low, bland voice,

"Please reserve judgement until the end, Hermione. I knew you would ask me this at some point." He sighed again, and began.

"I was born to Eileen and Tobias Snape. My mother was intelligent, and my father too. My mother was a Ravenclaw, my father a Slytherin. They fought constantly. I often went out of the house to escape the arguing. One day I came back to find my mother gone and my father locked in a full body bind upon the floor. I was fourteen. I left him there for a day, then released him. I lied to him, pretending that I had not come across the spell that my mum had used on him. I was angry with him for making her leave.

She left me a letter. My mother. When I opened my trunk to pack for school, a voice asked me my name and when I replied the parchment appeared. I still have it. It said.

'Dear Severus, dearest Severus.

I am writing you this letter to try and explain. I must leave. You have school to escape him. When you are home he is behaving well. Believe me. In three years time, Severus, you can leave him. I know that I shall never see you again,'" – here Snape's carefully calm voice faltered. – "'but you shall always be in my heart and in my thoughts. Remember darling Severus, that even though Tobias gave you his name, you are still a Prince. You alone have the power to decide what is best for you. You do not bow to others and you do not let yourself be led anywhere that you do not wish to go. I forgot this, and I ended up trapped as a result. You were the only good thing in my life, and I know that your childhood has not been a happy one thanks to me. I am truly sorry for having to leave you like this, but you board the Hogwarts Express three days after I write this, and, Severus, I wish you well. Try to follow your heart always.

Yours forever,

Eileen Prince'

I hardly remember what she looked like. All I can remember was her voice, soft and low and singing, and shrill and angry and shouting, and her embraces when I was a young boy, smelling of elderflower and hay. I was so angry. I was angry with my father for making my mother leave, and yet I was also angry with her, impossibly angry. I thought that she did not consider me a good enough reason to stay, that I wasn't important enough for her. And all that I had to remember her by was a letter.

As a Slytherin at school I was constantly being exposed to the darker sides of Hogwarts. The other pupils from different houses would have nothing to do with me. The only person who even acknowledged me in the corridors was Lily Potter.

I just remember being so angry. With everyone. I was angry with the Headmaster for being so 'understanding'. I was angry with Lily for being a better person than I was, with her unconditional friendship, and I was angry with myself for being a Slytherin.

I threw myself into my education. I invented new charms, and devised better ways of making potions. I went through the year unfeeling, not talking to anyone. I was 'that weird Snape kid' to every one of the pupils, and 'that poor Snape' to the teachers.

I went home in the summer to discover that my father was gone. I was glad. I had the house to myself. I tried to trace my mother using every magical method that I knew, but I couldn't find her. She didn't want to be found by my father, and that meant that I could not seek her out either. I wished that my father had left first. Then my mother would have stayed. During that summer, I learnt to forgive my mother for leaving. She had had no other option but to make a clean break. She probably even thought that it was better for me.

When I returned to school for my fifth year the bullying from Potter and the others got worse. We had always hated each other. Lily remained unfathomably pleasant towards me, even though I tried to make her leave me alone. One of my charms, Levicorpus, had spread throughout the school. Lucius and Bellatrix, in the years above me, tried to befriend me for my usefulness, but I didn't want to know.

Then, after exams, there was . . . an incident. Potter and the others were even worse than usual. Lily helped me, defended me from them. I resented her, called her . . . a mudblood. I don't know why. I was angry with Potter. I didn't want her fighting my battles for me. I didn't like charity. Hell, I hadn't even told the authorities that I was living alone. But those are no excuses. There are no excuses. The use of words like that was the reason that I didn't associate with my Slytherin classmates. I was the only half-blood Slytherin in my year, with muggle grandparents on my mother's side. I had betrayed my mother, Lily's kindness, and myself when I used that word. And it all started then.

Malfoy and Lestrange applauded me, and 'recruited' me. I had felt included, almost, in their applause, supported in my anger. But they only wanted my knowledge. My ideas soon got me noticed by Voldemort, who made me a Death Eater at the end of my seventh year. I avoided Lily whenever possible. She once sent me an owl. I never opened it, but sent it back with the seal intact.

I was applying to teach Potions at Hogwarts when I heard the end part of a prophecy and told the Dark Lord. He took it to mean that Harry Potter and his family should be killed. I went back to my father's lonely house after meeting Voldemort that night, and woke up in the middle of a restless sleep knowing that I could not keep doing this. I looked in the mirror and I didn't see me. I had had ambitions, hopes, dreams, and I had amounted to that pitiful thing staring back at me; a man who's information would lead to the death of the only other person, apart from his mother, who had ever offered him any kindness. That night, I contacted Dumbledore. He used Legilimency upon me to test my resolve. He taught me Occlumency, and in due course I became a spy.

I felt better than I could ever remember. I had a purpose. To save Lily, and to overthrow the Dark Lord. But . . . but then she died. Her and Potter died. Because of me. And then after that all that I could do was defeat Voldemort. I didn't care whether I lived or died in the process. I grew to be friends with Dumbledore, and then, of course, he made me kill him, as he was dying already. I had to keep my position as a spy. Everyone hated me. I had to work from the inside, helping you.

And then, finally, he was gone. Instead of feeling free, I felt lost. I had nothing to live for or to strive for. Then Minerva gave me you, and then this morning, this morning I realised that I loved you."

He coughed slightly, and wiped his face. Hermione placed her hand on his, which was gripping the fence tightly.

"You are so brave, Severus. For . . . for what it's worth, today I realised I love you, as you are, like this."

"It's worth a lot," he muttered. "Tergeo," he said quietly, and siphoned the tears off of his cold pale face.

"So," he said, with a weak chuckle. "Enough about me. Tell me about your life."

She squeezed his hand, and told him of her time with her parents, unaware that she was a witch. She told him how her classmates laughed at her for being clever, until one of them started dancing and was not able to stop. She hadn't known how she did it. She told him how at first she thought that the Hogwarts letter was a joke. Then she sighed, and said,

"It's awful really. I will be remembered as a member of the Golden Trio, when I didn't really do anything special, but you were far, far braver than me, and . . ."

"I don't mind. You deserve every ounce of your glory."

Eventually they turned and walked slowly back to class, hand in hand.

This one is quite dreary, but don't worry! Humour comes back into it a bit later.