Harry James Potter was born, as Severus had known he would be, on 31st July 1980. Severus read the birth announcement in The Prophet a couple of days later. Despite his and Lily's reconciliation, the news still dealt him a dull blow to the stomach as he read the printed words. Perhaps it was, in part, the old guilt once again rearing its ugly head. Perhaps it was because Severus had assumed she would contact him directly now, rather than finding out about it through a public announcement. Either way, Severus stared blankly at the newspaper, a hollow feeling in his chest, until Charity roused him from his empty state several minutes later.
In Severus' original life, the Dark Lord had naturally taken an immediate interest in Harry Potter—along with the Longbottom boy who had been born the day before. But in the weeks proceeding these two births, the Dark Lord was no more interested in them than in any other child.
However, knowing that the Dark Lord had no real reason to hunt down Lily did not stop the dreadful anxiety that came with each Death Eater meeting. Every time he was summoned, Severus imagined that this would be the meeting where the Dark Lord announced that his latest target was the Potters.
But it never came. They were in as much danger as anyone else, but at least the danger was not imminent, it was not heightened, and it was not due to Severus' own actions.
There were even times when he could forget the danger entirely. His life with Charity made him happier by far than anything he had experienced previously. The sheer normality of it, the ease with which he found he could converse with her…this was what most people took for granted, and which he had always longed for. He regarded their friendship as the most important thing in his life.
This began to present its own set of problems. Severus had long since come to accept that when it came to the forces of attraction, he was not like most other people. He had only ever felt a physical attraction to one person in his entire life, and so when Severus started to notice how prettily Charity's eyes would light up when she spoke of her interests, how her fluttering eyelashes were longer than any he'd ever seen, and how his heart rate would elevate slightly whenever she smiled, he did not, at first recognise what was happening.
Since the night they had gotten drunk and played poker together, Charity had made no further indication that she felt anything other than friendship for Severus, and so he buried the burgeoning feelings deep inside himself, where hopefully they could not harm him.
His resolve to ignore the attraction was very much tested one balmy summer evening when Charity had had enough of Severus' rather conservative food preferences, and had informed him that she would, with his assistance, be cooking something she called "curried bodie," a traditional Trinidadian recipe taught to her by her mother.
He eyed the spices she set out with a certain degree of nervous trepidation, much to Charity's amusement.
"You really need to broaden your palate, Sev," she chuckled as she sliced the 'bodie,' which turned out to be a form of green bean, into pieces, tipping it into a pan that was already sizzling with spices.
"My palate is perfectly content as it is, thank you" said Severus, leaning over the pan to watch the bubbling dish. The fact was, being brought up in one of the poorest suburbs of Manchester, his parents had not exactly exposed him to a variety of foods while he was young, and the menus at Hogwarts had never been especially adventurous either. In the few weeks in the year that he had been forced to look after himself, food had always been a perfunctory necessity.
Almost as if she knew his line of thinking, she said, "I used to get so bored of the same old stodgy dishes at school. I longed for something with a bit of flavour. Mum used to send me packages of beef or vegetable patties once a week—"
"Meat ones?"
"Yes, Sev," she smiled patiently. "I used to eat it. Shit, I'd have starved to death at Hogwarts if I didn't. But I'd have also died of boredom if mum hadn't sent me my care packages. Here," she said, dipping a spoon into the fragrant sauce and holding it to his lips. "Try this."
The proximity of her fingers to his mouth was most alluring. For a split second he was overcome with the urge to reach for them, to press his lips gently against them, and he tried to imagine what her reaction to such a course of action would be. In an ideal world, she would allow it. Possibly she would then move her hand from his lips to the back of his head, and cover his mouth with her own…
A strange fluttering took place in his stomach and he feared that she would somehow be able to see the fantasy that he had just allowed himself. He quickly forced the mental image away, cursing himself silently for even allowing such an inappropriate and errant thought. To cover any potential embarrassment, he tested the proffered mouthful far too quickly, and immediately fought to stop himself choking from the burning, spicy heat.
"Too much pepper sauce?" she asked, fighting the grin that spread across her face.
"Merlin, Charity," he said. "How much did you put in?"
"Less than half what I usually would," she laughed. "Come on, it's not that bad!"
"I'm going to hazard a guess and say you have never had the pleasure of visiting the Mancunian suburb of Cokeworth," he said, water already streaming down his eyes.
"You'd be right there," she replied.
"Firstly, you should count yourself incredibly lucky. Secondly, you should understand that when I was growing up, the closest thing we had to spice was extra salt and vinegar on a portion of soggy chips," he said, repressing another coughing fit.
"Here," she said, still chuckling. "Drink this. It'll help." She handed him an opened bottle of beer, and his fingers lightly brushed against hers, causing his pulse to quicken once again. Was it purely his imagination, or did she maintain the contact longer than was necessary?
Of course it was his imagination. There could be no way that a woman such as her would ever waste her time on a man such as him…And yet, the way she did not flinch from his eye contact as she passed him the bottle… And had her pupils dilated somewhat? Her deep brown eyes were almost as dark as his own, so it was difficult to tell at a glance…But she wasn't backing away from him…And there had still been that drunken moment, where she had confessed her attraction to "skinny white boys."
He desperately pushed the thought away. These…feelings… whatever they were… were not welcome. And they would most certainly not be reciprocated. No, it would be far easier and far more sensible to just stop feeling this way. Was that possible?
But she was still so close to him. After she'd handed him the bottle she could have stepped away, but she hadn't… He took a swig to wet his suddenly dry mouth, and noticed her eyes drifting down to his lips. He swallowed heavily, and she took a half a step closer towards him. Perhaps there was more to her feelings than just friendship after all…
A hundred thoughts seemed to be battling in his mind for supremacy, and in the end the need for self-preservation won, and he took a half a step backwards.
"Sev—" she began, but right on cue, and giving Severus the blessed excuse he needed, a glowing silver phoenix appeared in the kitchen. "What the…" she began, staring at the floating apparition.
It hovered before them for a few seconds before it spoke in Dumbledore's voice. "Severus, you are urgently required. I shall be in the Hogs Head from seven o'clock."
It faded from view, leaving the kitchen looking extraordinarily dark in comparison. "My apologies," he said, as he sent a Patronus of his own back in reply.
"It's fine," she said, although she sounded far from it. "To be honest, I'm getting kind of used to it." She turned her back on him and returned to the stove, furiously stirring the pan.
"Perhaps you would save me some? I shall return later and give you the honour of laughing at my inevitable inability to eat it then."
The vaguest hint of a smile appeared on her face. "Just make sure you come back in one piece, then," she said, in a manner that only appeared to be half-joking.
"I will do my best," he said.
Without warning, she abandoned the stove and furiously threw her arms around him, pulling him close. His arms hovered awkwardly at his side for a moment, until he finally wrapped both of them loosely around her, and gently returned the hug. He closed his eyes and allowed her scent—something sweet and floral, reminiscent of jasmine and vanilla—to fill his senses.
She broke away from him and said, "Be safe, Sev. I worry when you do…whatever it is that you do."
He nodded, still intoxicated from her captivating scent, before he grabbed his travelling cloak and left.
The bar of the Hogs Head was almost empty, and Aberforth looked up expectantly when Severus entered. The barman grudgingly acknowledged Severus' presence by spitting into a filthy glass and half-heartedly polishing it with an even filthier rag. "He's waiting for you out back," he grumbled.
With a curt nod, Severus passed through the bar and into one of the private rooms. Dumbledore was sipping delicately at a glass of sherry and smiled when he saw Severus. "Close the door," he said, placing the glass back down. "We don't want to be overheard."
Severus stared at him in incredulity. "So why are we not up at the school?" he said. "Or did you forget that this entire debacle began because you were overheard in this very room?"
"I had not forgotten, Severus, but as you are here with me, I don't think I have to worry about being overheard this time."
Shaking his head at the ridiculously shoddy logic, Severus cast a Muffliato spell at the door.
"No one saw me come down here," said Dumbledore. "No one even saw me leave the school. I thought it prudent that as few people as possible know about our excursions."
"Excursions?" repeated Severus. "So can I assume that you have found another?"
"I believe so, yes. But before I go on, I must say, Severus, that I was very interested to see your new Patronus. Can I assume that you and Lily have come to some kind of understanding?"
"We have."
Dumbledore smiled tightly. "I had a feeling something like this might happen when you finally began to let go of your past. You must be relieved."
"I am really in no mood to discuss it, Albus," said Severus, sitting heavily on a threadbare armchair. "What have you found?"
"Well," began Dumbledore, sipping a couple of times at his glass. "Allow me to take you back over forty years, to when Voldemort, at the time still known as Tom Riddle, was a boy living in a Muggle orphanage. Before he officially discovered that he was a wizard, he had already realised that he could shape the world around him. It was tasked to me to tell him, the eleven year old orphan boy, that he was a wizard, and he confessed to me that he had already been using his powers in rather disturbing ways. The matron also told me some rather revealing tales about his apparent 'oddness,' recounting to me a particular trip to the seaside. Whilst there, young Tom Riddle led a couple of the children away to a cave on the beach. It would appear that it was one of the first times that he discovered that he could manipulate the world around him, make people, in his own words 'hurt' if we wanted to."
"It certainly sounds like a place of significance to him," said Severus.
"As before, I don't know what we will encounter there."
Suddenly, from out of nowhere, Severus shuddered. Just like when Dumbledore had first told him about the Horcruxes, and understanding had come quicker than thought, he came to an instantaneous realisation. In his previous life, before he had been forced to kill Dumbledore, the old man had told him that he would be away for the evening, and that Potter was coming with him. He had warned Severus to be especially vigilant, for he had a strong suspicion that Draco's long plans would be coming to fruition. Severus had asked the Headmaster where they were going. Dumbledore had refused to answer. It did not take a great leap of logic to come to the conclusion that he and Potter had visited this cave that night.
"Are you alright, Severus?" asked Dumbledore. "If you do not wish to accompany me, I would understand."
"It's not that," snapped Severus, turning away from the Headmaster. Despite not looking at the old man himself, he could still feel Dumbledore's penetrating glare.
"I am quite sure I can face this task alone—"
"I have strong reason to believe that the last time you visited this beach—this…cave…was the night I… The night you made me kill you."
"Really?" said Dumbledore lightly. "Well, you can rest assured that I shall not be asking the same favour of you again tonight."
"Albus—"
"Severus, your new decisions continue to affect the world around you in a positive light. Who knows how many people have already been saved by your actions? Don't focus on the mistakes of your past. And especially don't focus on my mistakes.
"Albus, you need to know that something in there—in this cave—greatly weakened you."
"Ahh, but we also know that I survived! Let us at least focus on that!"
Severus nodded curtly, recognizing the old man's tone immediately. Dumbledore was not going to be swayed at all, and it was futile in trying to press the point. "When do we leave?" he asked.
"Immediately, if you are ready? We can easily slip out of the back unnoticed, and Disapparate from there."
Severus resignedly followed the old man, and allowed Dumbledore to Apparate them both away.
They emerged from the compressing darkness into a world of light and colour. They were stood atop a cliff overlooking the sea. The sun was just beginning to set over the ocean, illuminating the sky with the most vibrant pinks and oranges. The sun itself reflected in the rippling waves, a hundred thousand bedazzling diamonds sparkling across its undulating surface. It was a breathtaking and spectacular sight.
"This way," said Dumbledore, and with difficulty they picked their way down to a rocky outcropping, where a dark and unwelcoming cave entrance was visible across an expanse of water.
"Can you swim?" asked Dumbledore.
Severus raised an eyebrow at Dumbledore, amazed that the old man was even asking such a question. "Not well," admitted Severus, glancing down at the water. The local Muggle primary school that he had attended had given a few compulsory lessons, but he would have only been nine or ten when he taken them, and he had not tried again since. He would also be willing to bet that it was not one of his strong points. "Thankfully, in case you had forgotten, we have magic at our disposal."
He looked around at the sparkling surface of the sea. Every now and then, the dazzling white shimmer was broken by something black and solid. With a tight smile, he summoned the objects closer, and was pleased to see several large pieces of driftwood in amongst the debris. With a second wave of his wand, he transfigured these into a perfectly reasonable rowing boat. "After you," he said.
Dumbledore nodded and sat in the boat first, and after Severus climbed in, it began to move towards the cave's opening of its own accord. It took all of his self-control to not roll his eyes at the Headmaster. The man may have been a genius, but there were still times when he missed the most obvious and easiest solution to a problem.
Suddenly the boat shuddered and then came to a complete standstill. There was nothing visible stopping their progression: it was almost as if an enormous glass wall had been erected over the entrance to the cave.
"I rather suspected something of this nature might occur," said Dumbledore cheerfully. "I am afraid we are going to have to swim the rest of the way."
Dumbledore removed his travelling cloak from about his shoulders, and shrunk it to the size of a piece of doll's clothing, placing it in his pocket, then swung his legs over the side of the boat and gracefully slid into the water. With an exasperated sigh and a very great deal of trepidation, Severus did the same.
The water was ice cold, making his breath catch in his chest. The swim inside the cave was not all that long a distance, but the weight of his clothes, coupled with the low temperature and Severus' own inexperience of swimming made the distance feel at least triple. By the time they reached a jagged rocky beach inside the cave, Severus was exhausted, and he lay back against the cold stone to catch his breath while Dumbledore continued to look around.
"You really should give up those cigarettes, Severus. You would have found this far easier without that added burden."
"And I'm sure you'll find it easier to talk if I don't hex your mouth off, which is precisely what will happen if you offer any more unsolicited advice," said Severus, struggling into an upright position. The setting sun barely reached inside the cave, and after drying his clothes, Severus muttered, "Lumos," and held his wand high.
They were met with a cold, damp wall of rough, featureless rock. Dumbledore was already walking up down the wall, muttering words under his breath, clearly trying to find a way through. Severus clambered to his feet and joined Dumbledore at the rock face.
He was immediately drawn to a particular part of the rock about ten feet away from where Dumbledore was standing; he could almost feel the vibration of dark magic thrumming from it. He gently ran his fingers over the rock and, taking a deep breath, tried to find the edge of the magic.
It ran in an archway easily large enough for them to pass through, if only he could just find a way to remove the blasted rock. "Here," he said to Dumbledore. "I believe I may have found what you are looking for."
Dumbledore rushed to his side and likewise brushed the surface of the rock with his fingers. "Yes," he agreed. "Yes, this is most certainly the way forward. But how to proceed…?"
Dumbledore sent a revealing spell towards the wall, and the glowing outline of an archway appeared for a second, before fading back into featureless rock. "Well, this is disappointing," said Dumbledore, shaking his head. "I had thought better of him." He pulled a short silver knife from his robes and cut a thin line across his forearm.
"A blood payment?" asked Severus distastefully.
"I'm afraid so," said Dumbledore, as he smeared some of his blood across the rock. The archway's outline glowed brightly, and this time it stayed, revealing a passageway inside. "I confess that I thought his style would be far more refined than this," he added as he passed his wand over the cut, healing it instantly.
Once through the archway, the magnitude of the chamber inside took Severus' breath away. A vast lake lay before them, so vast that Severus could not see the other side, except for an eerie, phosphorous green glow in the distance.
"I expect that is our destination," said Severus, indicating the glow.
"I am certain that it is," agreed Dumbledore. "We just need to find a way to get there."
"You don't think swimming to be an option again, then?" said Severus, his voice dripping with irony.
"Definitely not," said Dumbledore. "We should definitely not be touching the water."
At this remark Severus realised how unnaturally still the water was, rather like an enormous block of polished black marble. Certainly the idea of swimming in that made him rather unsettled.
While Dumbledore walked around the edge of the lake, Severus walked up the water and looked down into its inky depths. Just inches below the surface of the water lay a white, slimy looking hand. Next to it, her eyes open but unseeing, the face of a young woman with misted white eyes stared upwards, her mouth open in a silent scream.
"Inferi," Severus called out to Dumbledore.
"As I said," replied Dumbledore. "Do not touch the water. Ahhh…." Dumbledore smiled and reached out into mid air, as if he were trying to grasp something. After a few moments his smile widened, and he his hand closed around a suddenly visible chain.
Within the lake's pitch black depths, something moved. A small rowing boat, barely large enough for just one of them to fit inside drifted up to the surface, and began to move with purpose towards them.
"This presents problems," said Dumbledore. "We are not both going to be able to fit in this."
"I take it that you believe enlarging the boat would be out of the question?" asked Severus.
"Indeed I do. I rather think this boat measures magical power, rather than the size of the occupants. I imagine that the two of us together will be far too much for this tiny vessel."
Severus looked once more towards the glowing centre of the lake. "Would this be a good moment to inform you that I know a spell that enables me to fly unsupported?" he said.
Dumbledore gaped at Severus, before a half smile crossed his face. "Well, Severus, you are full of surprises. But allow me to cross in this first. That way I can watch your crossing. Just in case."
Dumbledore climbed into the boat and sat down. Immediately it began to drift unaided towards the centre of the lake. The boat created very few waves; the water returned to unnatural stillness almost as soon as the boat passed over it, and very soon Severus could no longer hear the gentle splashes it made as it passed through the water.
Several lonely and silent minutes passed, until a show of red and golden stars flew up into the air. Severus took this as an indication that it was safe for him to try to cross, and took a deep, calming breath, before he pointed his wand towards the ground and pushed off hard, moving quickly across the cavernous space.
The reaction from the lake's inferi was almost instantaneous, and the dark waters below him began to churn violently. Slimy white hands broke the frothing surface, and several decaying bodies leapt from the surface, reaching their rotting claws towards him. He rose higher into the air, while at the same time Severus noted that Dumbledore sent several streams of fire shooting across the lake's surface, keeping the wretched creatures at bay. As soon as he landed safely on the island by Dumbledore's side, the inferi stilled, returning to their infernal sleep.
"That was really rather impressive, Severus! You must teach me sometime!"
"Are you quite sure? I learned it at the hands of the Dark Lord, after all."
"Well, let it never be said that he was an inferior wizard," smiled Dumbledore. "Which brings us to our next problem."
In the centre of the island was a stone basin on a plinth, and it was this that was the source of the unusual green light. Dumbledore directed Severus closer, and placed his hands on either side of the basin, looking down in the eerie glow. "The Horcrux is in the bottom of this basin. But as you can see…" Dumbledore reached out to try and grab the Horcrux from its resting place, but was entirely prevented from doing so.
Severus moved closer to the basin and bent over the strange barrier for a closer look. He too tried to reach in to pluck the Horcrux but his fingers met what could only be described as solid air. He bent in closer and was surprised to see that just beneath the surface, the green barrier was moving and rolling as if it were not a solid, but a liquid.
"It's not a magical obstruction, but rather a potion of some kind," said Severus. "I take it you have already tried to vanish it."
"I have," replied Dumbledore. "It cannot be done. You said that on my last sojourn here, I came back greatly weakened? Well, I can only conclude that this potion will have to be drunk, and it was this that weakened me."
"There has to be another way," said Severus impatiently.
"I very much doubt it," said Dumbledore.
"And have you actually tried any other methods, or would you prefer to just start blindly drinking an unknown potion, created by a renowned psychopath, who is desperate to keep the item this potion is guarding safe?"
"I confess, Severus, that I have not. I am basing my immediate conclusions on the idea that I thoroughly researched my options the last time I was here. But please… Be my guest."
Severus scowled at the Headmaster's tone. Until he had tried literally every other option available to him, Severus refused to believe that this luminous monstrosity had to be drunk.
His first attempt was to try and part the potion, but none of the spells he tried had even the least impact. Undeterred, he used his wand to bore a hole in the underside of the basin. Not even the force of gravity seemed to be able to drain the bizarre potion away. He tried blasting the entire basin to smithereens, but as the smoke cleared, the basin and its contents remained pristine.
With a dark look at Dumbledore, Severus conjured a silver goblet and dipped it into the mysterious potion. The goblet filled immediately and the level in the basin dropped slightly. Very cautiously, Severus tipped the goblet up. The potion stayed put: not a single drop fell from the goblet to the ground. He placed the filled goblet on the side of the basin and attempted to conjure a second goblet. Nothing happened. He tried again. Still, the spell failed him.
"You try," he said to Dumbledore.
The Headmaster waved his wand through the air. The spell failed for him just as it had for Severus.
"Well, it looks like you were correct," sighed Severus. "One of us will have to drink this. However, I would prefer to take this sample home and try to find an antidote first."
"After everything you've seen in this cave so far, Severus, do you really believe that Voldemort would allow that eventuality?
Severus glared at the Headmaster. He hated being made to feel like a stupid child, and his anger made him feel reckless. He snatched the goblet from the side of the basin and lifted it to his lips.
"Stop," said Dumbledore in a commanding tone, and he took the goblet away from Severus' grasp. "If I drank this before, then we both know I survived. So allow me to do so again."
"And you were weakened," answered Severus. "I'm far younger than you. Perhaps that will aid my recovery."
"And how do you expect me to get us both back across this lake safely, Severus? If you are weakened, I highly doubt you'll be able to pull off that flying spell again."
"I'm sure you will find a way."
"And if I cannot?"
A muscle in Severus' jaw tensed as he fought to find the words to express his concern. "Every single one of my ideas has proven false in this place. And I would have died back in that shack if I had been alone. Albus, please… I know that drinking this won't kill me, but I don't know that something else in here won't. It may cause me pain but… I am used to that."
"Severus," said Dumbledore, his voice soft, "I cannot ask this of you. Not only that, but I may have to force you to keep drinking it, and you cannot ask that of me."
"Likewise," said Severus, and without hesitation, he snatched the goblet away from Dumbledore and drank the entire contents, shuddering slightly as he did so. It tasted vaguely medicinal, but it was not the flavour that had sent the shudder through his body. A strange, icy chill ran over his skin, while at the same time, he thought he could hear a distant scream. His eyes shot around the gloomy cave for the source of the scream.
"Severus?" said Dumbledore, reaching for the goblet. "Perhaps I should—"
"No," said Severus firmly. "It was nothing." He plunged the goblet back into the basin, downing the potion for a second time.
The scream grew slightly louder and was joined by a second voice. He looked at Dumbledore who was watching him with a great amount of concern.
"Can you hear…?" The sentence faded away at the look on Dumbledore's face. The old man clearly couldn't hear anything. If the Dark Lord believed that forcing whoever was here to hear screams would put them off their task, he clearly assumed that most people were weak-minded fools. He shook his head slightly to clear it, and filled and drained the goblet once more.
A piercing stab seemed to penetrate his stomach, and from the darkness he heard a deep, rumbling growl to join with the screams. In his peripheral vision he saw the flash of a beast's eyes. He turned to look at the snarling animal that was mostly hidden in shadow, and could see that its bloody maw was pulled back in a snarl, revealing the pointed, sharp white fangs.
He froze as he stared at the prowling werewolf. It stayed just on the edge of the shadows, not daring to come any closer. Fighting through the pain, Severus pulled his wand out and pointed it into the darkness.
From a distance, he heard a familiar voice say his name and gave a little start of surprise when he realised that Albus Dumbledore was next to him. For a split second, he could not remember where he was, or why he was in pain, but the glowing green bowl before him was a harsh reminder.
"Severus, stop this. Allow me—"
"No," snapped Severus. "One of us needs to stay alert and it needs to be you."
Before Albus could stop him, he took another goblet full of potion. This time he could not help it. The pain was worse than Cruciatus, and he dropped to his knees, unable to contain the cry of pain that was wrenched from him. The werewolf in the shadows growled ever louder, and he scrambled away in fear. A strong pain of hands gripped his upper arms, and a familiar face loomed in front of him. It was Albus Dumbledore, and he appeared to be speaking. Severus fought hard through the waves of burning pain to hear what the old man was saying.
"….should never have allowed this."
Severus thought he could detect a note of pity in the man's voice, but he didn't understand what he could possibly mean by it. It didn't matter anyway. All that mattered was stopping the dreadful pain, and getting away before the werewolf tore him to pieces.
"Help me," he said between gritted teeth.
He was left alone for just a moment, then felt a hand gently alight on the back of his head. A goblet was presented to him, full of an unfamiliar potion. He tried to turn his head away, but the potion was tipped into his mouth.
As soon as he swallowed, his insides burned with an intense, blazing heat. Through the agony, he managed to force his eyes open to look on the face of his tormentor.
It was his father. Or was it? The face before him seemed to be ever-shifting. One moment there was the lank black hair and hooked nose of his father, but then the hair grew shorter and messier, the nose became smaller, and the eyes that looked on him were not filled with drunken anger and disappointment, but rather cruel spite. James Potter morphed into Sirius Black—who laughed and mocked him—before the face became pale and snake-like, and the burning red eyes watched him without pity.
The Dark Lord forced him to drink a goblet full of a foul-tasting potion. He tried to push the dark wizard away, but the constant torment left him weak.
Another figure appeared behind the Dark Lord. It was Lily Potter, and she approached him slowly and fearfully. "Severus?" she said, her terrified voice echoing around the cavern. "Where are we? What's going on?"
The Dark Lord smiled a lipless and cold grin. "This is your fault," he said, as he turned and raised his wand.
"No," groaned Severus. "You can't… You promised…" Lily was backing away from the Dark Lord but she seemed unwilling to move faster. "Run!" he shouted. "You have to…"
A flash of green light illuminated the dark cavern, and Lily's body crumpled and fell. Severus stared at her prone figure in horror. She had come to find him in this place, wherever this was, and now she was dead. Because of him. Huge, hot tears fell from his eyes.
Another goblet full of potion was tipped down his throat. The werewolf made its presence known once again, and Severus could feel its foul, putrid breath on the back of his neck. Soon he would be torn to pieces and left for dead, or worse. He had to leave, he had to get out of this terrible place before the beast caught him.
As he stared at Lily's unmoving body, he realised that no one would care if the wolf did kill him. He would die painfully in this cave with no company other than Lily's body, as a reminder of his terrible failure.
Yet more potion was forced into his mouth, and as the burning agony in his stomach increased, he was unable to help the piteous cry that fell from his lips.
Another movement in the shadows caught his eye, and Charity stepped forward into the sparse green light. "Severus," she said, and her voice shook with terror. "Please... Save me. Please…"
"I can't…" he moaned.
In a furious rage, the Dark Lord turned his wand on her too, and before Severus was able to utter a warning she fell beside Lily.
"Stop! Please, stop!"
"But you are mine," said the Dark Lord. "Your body, your heart, your soul…they belong to me."
"No…."
As the Dark Lord forced yet another goblet full of potion down his throat, Severus noticed the enormous black snake undulating in the darkness. It reared up over Charity's body and dislocated its great jaws.
Horror froze him to the spot. He desperately wanted to turn away from the repulsive spectacle, but it was impossible.
"You will always be mine, Severus. And everything you want belongs to me too."
"No," he whimpered. "I'm done. I want out."
"Do you not understand?" said the Dark Lord. "I decide when it is done. I decide when you leave."
The snake, having finished its grotesque meal, slithered towards him, and Severus could see his pale, terrified face reflected in its unblinking eyes.
"Stop these games, please," he begged clambering to his knees, and grasping the bottom of the Dark Lord's robes. "Kill me. I don't want this. Please…"
The Dark Lord regarded him for a moment, his head cocked slightly to one side as if considering Severus' request. He knelt before Severus and tipped one last goblet-full of potion down his throat. "This will kill you," he said softly. "But you will still always be mine."
The Dark Lord faded from his view, and he was left alone with nothing but Lily's dead body, the snake that continued to circle him, hissing and spitting constantly, the growling werewolf that stayed just on the edge of his vision, and his own quiet cries.
"Severus?" said a caring yet urgent voice. "Severus, can you hear me?"
Dumbledore was in front of him. The snake was gone. Lily's body was gone. The werewolf was gone. Every muscle in his body ached, but most of the burning pain was gone too.
Severus tried to speak, but his throat was dreadfully dry. "Water," he eventually gasped.
He felt a hand slide across the back of his shoulders, helping him sit upright. With a wave of his wand, Dumbledore conjured a crystal goblet full to the brim of water, and Severus reached for it eagerly. The moment he held the goblet to his lips, the water within vanished. "Please…" he choked out, indicating the empty vessel.
"Severus, hold on," said Dumbledore.
The thirst was going to kill him, he knew it, but Dumbledore did nothing to aid him. He felt a hand push him backwards, and he was unable to resist the pressure, and lay back against the cold, hard rock, waiting to die at long last.
He felt himself being lifted into the air, supported as if on a bed. He did not understand what was happening, but it didn't matter: Dumbledore had never cared about him enough to save him, and here was the proof. He would be left to die of thirst in this hellish cave, surrounded by his worst fears and memories.
"Water," he gasped once more, but Dumbledore was not listening. Indeed the Headmaster sought to taunt him further before his death, for his floating death bed was suddenly surrounded by flames. He could hear the sound of splashing water beneath him and wanted nothing more than to try and roll away from the heat and torment, into the blissfully cool water beneath him, but Dumbledore had already thought of this, and had bound him tightly in place.
He began to sink back down towards the ground, but the flames around him stayed in place. What a hellish way for his life to finally come to an end…
But death was not going to claim him quickly. He had no idea how long he stayed there, unable to move, surrounded by a wall of flame, but eventually the fire dissipated, and a familiar voice said, "Severus, can you hear me?"
A firm hand was placed behind his shoulder and forced him into an upright position, and moments later he felt the relief of a goblet of cold water at his lips. This time, the water did not disappear, and he drank deeply and gratefully, coughing and spluttering as he did so. Slowly, his surroundings came back into view. He and Dumbledore were back outside of the main chamber of the cave, the salt spray of the ocean blowing in their faces.
"I need to get you back to Hogwarts," said Dumbledore. "You need rest."
"No," replied Severus, suddenly thinking of how Charity would be waiting for him. "I want to go home."
"I would prefer it if you come back to Hogwarts—"
"I'm not going to Hogwarts," said Severus.
"St Mungo's, then. I should be far happier if you were to see a healer. You said that I was weakened when I did what you have just done, but we knew that I was going to end up dead anyway. We don't know that you will just recover from this."
"Take me home," demanded Severus through gritted teeth. He looked at Dumbledore, who was eyeing him with pity. "I mean it. I will be fine. I just need to sleep. In my own bed. Without anyone fussing."
It was clear that Dumbledore had several more things to say on the subject, but he eventually backed down from Severus' obstinate stubbornness. The swim back out of the cave was far more difficult than it had been earlier; Severus' utter exhaustion—both physical and mental—coupled with the now near pitch darkness, did not aid their progress at all, and by the time Severus was able to Apparate back to London with Dumbledore's help, he nearly collapsed under the exertion.
Dumbledore tapped his wand against the flat's front door, and it swung silently open. A light was on in the kitchen, and as Severus stumbled into the living room, Dumbledore still supporting him, he heard Charity call through to him. "Sev? I was just making some tea. Do you want a cup?"
He didn't answer, but winced as Dumbledore helped him into the armchair.
"I personally think tea would be a very sensible idea," said Dumbledore, but Severus ignored him.
At that moment, Charity entered the room. She was carrying a large mug of tea, and as soon as she saw Severus, she dropped the mug, the contents spilling over the carpet. "Sev?" she said, rushing to his side, worry evident in every part of her body. What have you done to him?" she demanded of Dumbledore
"He didn't—" Severus began, but he immediately winced again. Talking seemed to take a great deal of effort.
"Severus seems to think he will be ok," said Dumbledore. "But I am glad that he has someone so attentive to look after him."
"What happened to you?" she said, then immediately turned back to Dumbledore. "Does he need a healer?"
"I don't need a healer," said Severus impatiently.
"I tried to persuade him to see someone," said Dumbledore. "But Severus refused."
"I don't need a healer!" he repeated, pure venom lacing his voice, shooting Dumbledore a dark glare.
"He seems to think that all he really needs is rest and company."
"I need a double Firewhisky and a smoke, and for you both to stop fussing."
"I'll get them for you," said Charity, hurrying out of the room.
Once alone Severus raised his eyes towards Dumbledore. "Well? Did you get it?"
"I retrieved the locket from the basin," replied Dumbledore, although the tone in his voice did not sound positive.
"And?" sighed Severus, well aware that there was more to Dumbledore's answer than met the eye.
"It is not a Horcrux. I could tell that immediately as soon as I picked it up."
Severus shuddered involuntarily. To have gone through the terrible ordeal that he just had, and to be no closer to ending the Dark Lord at the end of it?
"So what is it?" he asked. "Anything useful at all?"
Dumbledore pulled a silver locket from his pocket and handed it over to Severus. Much like Dumbledore, Severus could tell immediately that there was no aura of dark magic surrounding the object. It was nothing more than an ordinary locket. He opened it out of curiosity, and a folded piece of paper fell out.
With hands still shaking from the dreadful effects of the potion, Severus opened the note.
To the Dark Lord
I know I will be dead long before you read this but I want you to know that it was I who discovered your secret. I have stolen the real Horcrux and intend to destroy it as soon as I can. I face death in the hope that when you meet your match you will be mortal once more.
R.A.B.
Severus stared at the initials and an awful sinking feeling washed over him. He knew immediately who had written the note, and had always wondered what had happened to Regulus Black, who had disappeared without a trace very shortly after joining the Death Eaters. It looked like that particular mystery had been solved.
As Charity re-entered the room, a glass of whisky in one hand, and a clumsily rolled cigarette in the other, Severus handed the note over to Dumbledore and gratefully accepted his drink and cigarette. "I hate to say this," said Severus, lighting the smoke and inhaling deeply. "But I think we may need to have a word with Sirius Black."
A/N - It was a very tough decision to make Severus drink that potion. I wanted to make Dumbledore do it, but from a writer's perspective it would have been a bit dull to just have to recreate the scene entirely.
Also - a couple of things. One about depression, one about sexuality.
I have never, personally, suffered from depression, but I have several people in my life that do. I am well aware from what they have told me that it's not just endless days of sadness (although that can happen) and that you can still have great days - but the fact is, one thing going well in your life isn't a cure for depression, and so just because he and Lily have patched things up, and just because he and Charity are getting closer, Severus isn't going to suddenly be all light and sunshine. He'll still have these moments of horrible emptiness :(
And I read canon Severus as definitely being on the ace spectrum. Here I've written him as demisexual, but again, I'm not demi myself. I've done a lot of reading and research, but I don't want to write this experience wrong. If anyone reading this identifies as asexual or demi, or gray-ace, and would like to offer some advice if they think I'm writing his experience wrong, I'd welcome it.
Thank you for reading, now please do leave a review! Reviews make new chapters appear faster!