Title: Unexpected Grace
Author: Cocoa-Snape (aka CocoaSnape)
Disclaimer: Harry Potter belongs exclusively to JKR…she is a goddess. I am making no money from this and I intend no copyright infringement.
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Unexpected Grace
by CocoaSnape
Chapter 10: Much easier said than done
Severus Snape realized he had made a terrible mistake. Pain was flooding through his body, wrenching his muscles apart, stretching, nearly ripping the tendons from his bones. Through the haze and tears he could make out a dark figure standing above him, whispering the words that were afflicting this torment. In the back of his mind he could see Albus's disapproving eyes. They stretched wide across the black expanse within him. Then vanished. The Dark Lord bent low over him and spoke in a callous whisper, 'What a fool you were to return, traitor. I'll show you suffering!'
With a start, Snape awoke.
He was in the hospital wing. Just another nightmare, he realized. He was soaked in sweat, and he could feel his heart racing in his chest. He took several deep breaths. His body was trembling still, as though he had just experienced the Unforgiveable in reality. Turning his head, he caught sight of the Headmaster, standing in the doorway, concern etched on his face.
Damn. Illogical as it seemed, it might have been the worst part of these nightmares, Snape thought, waking to find Albus there, eyeing him with that look.
"What time is it?" Snape asked in an effort to fill the awkward silence.
"A bit after nine," Dumbledore replied.
"Oh." A pause. Snape tried, without success, to sound nonchalant. "Albus, it's not necessary for you to come down every morning and check up on me. I'm perfectly fine."
"I wasn't checking up on you, Severus."
Snape closed his eyes, knowing full well what was coming next. Each time he wished the words would remain trapped in Dumbledore's mouth, but they never did.
A soft, "Would you like to talk about it?"
"There's nothing to talk about." It was his stock response. But it had the desired effect – each time, Dumbledore took the hint and changed the subject.
Not this time. "Severus, perhaps you—"
Snape hastily interrupted, "It's just a silly dream, Albus. I'm fine."
Dumbledore closed his eyes in frustration. It was beyond discomfiting – this denial on Severus's part. He had gently tried to persuade Severus to discuss what had happened beyond a rational, tactical analysis of how his returning as a spy would benefit the Order. But in the past week, Severus had dodged his every attempt, including now. And he had grown increasingly weary of it.
"Can you not see why that is difficult for me to believe, Severus, when you say it with such detachment? As if nothing happened to you at all. As if you weren't in unbearable agony…"
Snape huffed and shook his head, suggesting these were matters of no real consequence.
Dumbledore felt like a dam about to burst. He wanted to let the words tumble from his mouth, 'I know. I was there with you,' but instead he shifted his eyes to the floor, counted 223 flecks of graphite in the tile at his feet, and tried again to reason with Severus.
"I had hoped that by now you would—"
"Excuse me," Snape interrupted, unable to bear the idea of continuing this conversation. He reached for his cane and hoisted himself out of bed. Dumbledore moved to help him, but Snape shrugged him off with irritation, "The bathroom is five steps away, Albus."
Snape hobbled there, in what ended up being closer to ten steps and quickly shut the door. He sank down on the edge of the bath and started the water.
They had come to an agreement in the past week. Dumbledore, having accepted his reasoning about the Dark Lord's motives, had finally relented and assented to his request to return as a spy. Why then, Snape wondered, did Albus continue to raise the topic of what had happened to him that night? Snape had learned long ago that dwelling on the past only created more difficulties than it solved.
It was something Albus clearly did not understand. Snape had actually grown quite weary of it – Dumbledore's attempts to get him to share his 'feelings' about what had happened. Ridiculous! As if he had any.
As if they mattered.
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Two days later, Snape lethargically broke himself from sleep. And then balked at the time. It was already afternoon. He'd obviously fallen asleep again. And no wonder – he was bored out of his mind! Albus was in London meeting with the Order, and here he was, carefully deciding whether he'd rather read or bathe. With far too much time spent considering the options, he chose the latter.
He'd been in the hospital wing just over 3 weeks now. And although Albus had been nothing short of remarkable during that time, Snape was long ready to leave. The Headmaster assured him it would be soon, but apologetically reminded him that the decision ultimately rested with Poppy. He was already regretting having made the deal that entrusted his care to the medi-witch. He was tired of this room, tired of living in nightshirts and slippers, tired of not being able to take a walk by himself in the infirmary hall without being accosted and lectured by Poppy.
He was walking steadily now, albeit slowly and with the aid of a cane. Snape never had been much of an outdoors person, but after three full weeks spent inside, he found he missed it. Staring out the enormous windows Albus had created for him, he took in the beautiful summer day, yet another he would miss.
By the time Dumbledore returned in the late afternoon, Snape had been stewing long enough in his misery.
"How are you, my boy?"
It was an innocuous question that did not get the typical answer. The words came pouring out, "I can't take another minute of this, Albus! Minerva just stopped by, and she was fussing over me to no end, insisting that I eat, refusing to let me get up on my own. I was about ready to curse her when—"
"Please tell me you didn't."
"No, but only because I'm not supposed to use my magic. Which, by the way, is a wholly unreasonable request at this point!" Snape fumed. "She finally left…I may have said something rather offensive, but no matter." He paused, then added as an afterthought, "You should smooth things over with her."
"Why me?" Dumbledore asked in surprise.
"I don't know," Snape huffed. "Because it's the sort of thing you do. And I certainly won't."
Dumbledore was trying hard to suppress a smile. But he didn't think Severus would react favorably to his being amused by his exasperation. Dumbledore was about to say something suitably consoling, but apparently, Severus wasn't finished ranting.
"And don't you even get me started on Poppy! That woman will be the death of me, Albus! I don't know why she just didn't kill me to begin with and save herself the trouble. She caught me down the hall this morning taking a walk and she took my head off. Told me I shouldn't venture so far from my bed. And then, as if that wasn't enough, she had the gall to add that I needed someone to supervise me when I get up." A pause. "I might have said something offensive to her as well, come to think of it."
"She's concerned about you."
"Why isn't anyone concerned about me going mad?"
Dumbledore chuckled. "Perhaps I can help, my boy."
"Oh?"
"Why don't we go for a walk?"
"A walk?" Snape asked suspiciously. "Where?"
"On the grounds."
With raised eyebrows, Snape asked, "Won't Poppy have your hide for this?"
"Only if she finds out."
"But how…?"
"Come now, Severus," Dumbledore said with a twinkle in his eyes. "I'm not the greatest wizard of the age for nothing, now am I?" Dumbledore pointed his wand at the bed and a moment later, a precise image of Severus Snape, sleeping peacefully, appeared.
Studying his work carefully for a moment, Dumbledore shook his head as though something were not quite right. With a look of sudden inspiration, he muttered another incantation, causing the sleeping likeness to emit a soft snoring sound.
"I do not snore!" Snape insisted in an affronted tone.
In reply, Dumbledore tilted his head and quirked an eyebrow. He grabbed a blanket off a nearby chair, transfigured it into a cloak and handed it to Severus to put on.
Snape looked at the door. "And how exactly are we going to sneak past her?"
"Quietly, of course," Dumbledore said, before casting a dampening charm on their feet.
Snape was about to protest – he didn't relish the idea of being seen by any of the faculty that might be about. There would undoubtedly be questions, about his absence, about his cane. But before he could say anything, Albus grasped his upper arm and he felt a slight tingle wash over him, an odd sensation he couldn't quite place. Albus steered him towards the door with his hand still firmly holding onto his arm, and Snape struggled to maneuver through it with his cane.
He wondered what Albus was playing at, walking through the hospital wing with Poppy there. A dampening charm would do them little good if they were walking about in plain sight. He was in no state to hide if she were to walk in. And suddenly, as if on cue, Poppy stepped out of her office. Snape winced inwardly; but before he spoke, Dumbledore put a finger to his lips, indicating he should remain quiet. And when she looked up at them, no through them, it hit him. He was invisible.
During the short walk to the main doors, they remained silent, passing first Flitwick and then McGonagall in the halls. So that by the time they had made their way outside, out of earshot and away from view, Snape was about ready to burst.
"That's incredible, Albus!!" he all but shouted.
Dumbledore let go of his arm then, and he felt a slight chill. His eyes widened as Dumbledore disappeared before his eyes. Snape reached his hand out to the spot where Dumbledore had been standing and immediately came into contact with his solid form. Barely a moment later, the Headmaster reappeared.
"I thought you would enjoy that, my boy."
"You must teach me that," Snape insisted with fire in his eyes.
"Certainly," Dumbledore replied. "In another 30 years, when you've the proper control and energy to support it."
"I'll hold you to that," Snape vowed.
"I'm sure you will, dear boy," Dumbledore replied fondly.
As they made their way slowly towards the lake, Snape's mind was racing to explain the phenomena he had just experienced. He knew it wasn't a standard invisibility spell; the ones he was familiar with were highly unstable, and lasted for a few seconds at most. This was different, Snape was certain of it.
"That wasn't… How did you…? Will you at least tell me the incantation?" Snape pressed.
"It's not a spell, Severus."
"Not a spell?" Snape asked in confusion. It couldn't have been a potion.
"It is more akin to a personal ward," Dumbledore clarified.
Snape was completely baffled, and it showed.
"Do you remember, Severus," Dumbledore continued in explanation, "the wall of camouflage I showed you how to erect in your mind?"
Snape nodded. He did remember it well, from their Occlumency lessons of only months before.
"Well, it is essentially the same principle, except in this instance, I have projected a camouflage outside of my mind, around both of us."
Snape stopped walking. He had never heard of such a thing. He couldn't even fathom the idea of it. To create a barrier with one's mind, outside of the mind, using Occlumency alone, without the aid of a spell – it was inconceivable!
Dumbledore smiled at the almost pained expression on Severus's face and pressed his forefinger to Severus's furrowed brow, as if to smooth out the crease. "Severus my boy, I'm not supposed to be giving you things to worry about. Poppy might very well hurt me if she finds out."
They resumed their walk, Dumbledore keeping a careful eye on Severus for overexertion. But physical fatigue was the last thing on Snape's mind at the moment.
"I still can't quite wrap my wits around it. It's remarkable; certainly more reliable and much less expensive than invisibility potion. Not to mention less difficult to brew."
"Oh?" Dumbledore said, encouraging Severus to continue. He did rather enjoy seeing Severus this excited.
"I recently brewed a batch," Snape supplied. "It took me over 9 months, required too many sleepless nights, and cost me an excessive amount of my salary." He paused, and then asked with an eager expression, "So in 30 years you say?"
Dumbledore let out a chuckle. "It's just an estimate, Severus. I was a good deal older than that, but when it comes to that type of magic, you've got quite the leg up on me, I think."
If Snape was the blushing type, he would have been bright red. He scoffed aloud at Albus's comment, but inside he felt a whirlwind of delight at the tremendous compliment just paid to him. For Albus to even compare their levels of magic was incredibly flattering.
"So you were…?"
"80 or so."
"Is that when you feel your magic peaked?" Oh dear, Merlin! Had he just said that?! Now he was blushing for sure!
"My dear Severus," Dumbledore interjected in a mock-affronted tone, "are you implying that it's all downhill for me now?"
"No!" Snape felt as though his face were on fire. "Headmaster, I did not mean that, I—"
But Dumbledore plowed on, "After all, I was a hundred when I defeated Grindelwald, and rumor has it that I was the most powerful wizard at the time."
"Of course you were! I mean are…I mean you—"
"Severus, my boy," Dumbledore said fondly with a beaming smile, "I'm teasing you."
Snape breathed a sigh of relief as Dumbledore's laughter registered.
As they neared the lake, Dumbledore pointed to a large rock on the bank. "Why don't we sit there; it's my favorite spot."
As they made their way down over the rocky path, Dumbledore was watching Severus intently, a levitation spell on the tip of his tongue in case he were to stumble.
"I'm not an invalid, Albus."
"I am aware of that, Severus, but I should be very sorry if on your first walk out of the hospital wing, you were to collapse. Not to mention the volume of Poppy's wrath I would have to contend with."
They sat on a soft bench that Dumbledore transfigured and took in the view, magnificent as always. Snape had just sent a stone skipping over the water when out of the ripples a Merman arose. Dumbledore immediately spoke something which must have been a greeting, for the Merman responded in kind.
Snape had, of course, heard that Dumbledore could speak Mermish, but he had never been an actual witness to the event and so in his mind it had taken on a sort of mythic quality. Out of his amazement, he heard his name and realized that Dumbledore must be introducing him. He nodded rather too hastily he thought and then tried to make himself blend as much as possible into the bench.
When the Merman left, Snape inquired, "I've got to know…how on earth did you learn Mermish?"
"Ah, now that is a long story. One I must share with you over tea sometime," Dumbledore replied with a gleam in his eyes, "but I will tell you that it involved…hmm, how shall I say…a rather enthusiastic Mermaid and her very angry father."
"You're putting me on."
"Maybe I am, maybe I'm not," Dumbledore answered with a wink.
"It's astounding to me how you do these things…learning strange languages, inventing invisibility with your mind. It seems almost impossible."
"Not impossible. You do much the same in your research, Severus, each time you invent a new potion."
"That's hardly the same thing…"
"In a way it is. I just have considerably more experience to draw upon. 150 years worth in fact." He paused and then added with amusement, "But I must say, most of the time, I don't feel a day over 75."
Snape snorted and replied, "When you're showing me your chocolate card collection, you don't seem a day over 14."
"Really? That's so sweet of you to say, Severus," Dumbedore replied with sincerity. A moment later, he added with a sparkle in his eyes, "Was that your not so subtle way of asking to see more of my collection, my boy?"
At Snape's mock look of being found out, Dumbledore dissolved into laughter.
They sat and talked for over an hour before Dumbledore sensed Severus beginning to tire. "I think we should start back. The sun's nearly set and it's getting rather chilly."
"I suppose," Snape said solemnly, not particularly looking forward to returning to the hospital wing.
In reply, Dumbledore inclined his head towards his tower and asked, "How about some dinner then? Unless, that is, you have some other pressing engagement?"
At Snape's scowl, Dumbledore smiled and said, "Come on then, let's go eat," before interlacing his arm in Severus's to assist him.
Snape was grateful for the help, but grumbled about it all the same as they ascended side by side along the rocky path back towards the castle.
Even though the height of summer was nearly upon them, it had grown quite cool at this late hour of the day. There was a strong breeze coming off the lake.
Snape shivered involuntarily.
Then he felt a surge of warmth flow through him as though the sun had set itself around him.
Where their shoulders touched, Dumbledore propelled the heat into him, creating an invisible shield against the cold.
And strangely enough, it hit Snape in that moment, the magnitude of Albus's kindnesses throughout his recovery. He felt an overwhelming surge of gratitude for the elder wizard's devotion, care, and companionship. The latter had been the most prized, the least possible to demand.
With a sudden rush of feeling, Snape blurted, "Thank you, Albus."
"It's nothing, dear boy. It's my pleasure," Dumbledore replied. "It was a splendid outing, was it not?"
He had not understood him. Albus merely thought he was referring to this excursion outdoors. Snape struggled to explain. Against the swelling pressure of his throat, Snape managed a "I…I didn't mean…I…"
Snape paused, unsure of the correct wording, or if there were words to express all that he wanted to say or, even if there were, whether he could bring himself to say them.
But, as always, Albus's soft voice saved him. "I know what you meant, my boy," he whispered, tightening his grip on Severus's arm.
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They shared a leisurely dinner in Dumbledore's quarters before making themselves comfortable in the sitting room for tea and dessert. Snape took his usual seat on the worn red couch, while Dumbledore sat in his favorite armchair.
After having spent an entire afternoon and evening discussing everything but the topic they'd been debating endlessly for days now, it seemed all but inevitable that the subject would revert back to Severus's return as a spy.
Dumbledore had relented on that point. He knew it was necessary for the Order, and even agreed with Severus's logic about Voldemort using the Cruciatus as a test of loyalty. But beyond that, Severus was firm in his resolve to return, and Dumbledore knew there was little he could do to change that. His focus at the present, therefore, was centered on Severus's state of mind. The fact that Severus had still refused to discuss what had happened beyond a clinical recounting left Dumbledore far from reassured.
"Severus, I know I've mentioned this before, but I still have concerns about—"
Not understanding (or perhaps not wanting to), Snape cut Dumbledore off, "I can't imagine what about. He didn't get past any of my mental walls and I know for certain he didn't see anything I didn't want him to…"
Dumbledore listened as Severus repeated his line on the matter. So often had his response been rehearsed, in fact, that it had by now taken on the quality of a mantra. Dumbledore could have recited it with him – that at least would have afforded him a serious chuckle. As it was, things were purely serious. Dumbledore wondered if Severus was trying to convince himself, or if this was a tactic to steer the conversation. To avoid the conversation was more like it.
"…He was testing my fortitude, Albus. It's all a game to him."
Dumbledore said nothing. His silence only seemed to incite Severus further.
"…I have no intention of running. And hiding is not an option either. I won't become a burden to you—"
"You'd never be a burden to me, Severus," Dumbledore interjected.
"Of course," Snape replied hurriedly. "I meant Hogwarts…you know what I meant. Albus, the Order needs this." When Dumbledore still didn't answer, Snape continued, apparently determined to carry on the conversation by himself, "I know what you're going to say, of course, that there are other options, but…"
Each word Severus spoke only heightened Dumbledore's unease. Finally, after several long minutes, Snape asked him pointedly, "Albus, why are you so quiet?"
Dumbledore took a moment before replying hesitantly, "I am worried about you, my boy."
Unfazed, Snape continued, "Yes, well, there's always a risk. But I'll have the amulet in case of an emerg—"
"I didn't mean like that," Dumbledore interrupted. "Of course I worry for your safety, Severus. But I am reasonably confident in both our security precautions as well as Voldemort's belief in your loyalty."
"Then, I don't understand what—"
Dumbledore put his hand up. "There is more to consider, Severus, than just your safety."
"Such as?"
"I am…troubled by the way you're dealing with this, Severus. And concerned with how you'll handle going back after all that's happened."
"This again," Snape huffed with a frustrated sigh.
"Yes, Severus," Dumbledore replied with complete calm, "…this again."
"I'm not mental, Albus. I was injured and now I'm better." He looked down as his cane and added, "Or nearly so."
He would think it that simple, Dumbledore thought. "Severus, what you went through is far from that simple. It leaves painful reminders – both physical and mental. And each needs to be tended to."
There it was again – Dumbledore steering him towards sharing his 'feelings' about the ordeal. What was there to share? The Dark Lord was a sadistic maniac who'd Crucioed him to the point of death. He was better now. Everything else was irrelevant.
"I don't see the point in this conversation," Snape said sharply.
Dumbledore leaned forward and whispered gently, "Severus, you were tortured…"
"You don't have to remind me," Snape said, meeting Albus's gaze.
Dumbledore paused, eyed Severus for a moment over his spectacles, and then said seriously, "I think perhaps I do."
Snape stared incredulously at Dumbledore for a moment, but then turned his head away.
"Severus—"
"What do you want from me?" Snape snapped angrily. To tell you I was terrified…to tell you I wanted to die?
"I want to give you the opportunity to talk about it."
"What is there left to say? I've told you what happened."
"A detached clinical relaying of the facts is hardly talking about it, Severus," Dumbledore said calmly.
"How many times have we gone over this, Albus?" Snape retorted heatedly. "I think it should be clear to you by now that I don't want to!"
"Of course you don't," Dumbledore said, somewhat harsher than he had intended.
Snape bit back, "And just what is that supposed to mean?"
Regaining his composure, Dumbledore began softly, "It means that you are far too closed off, my boy. You need to confide in someone. If you don't want it to be me, then someone else."
Snape waved his hand dismissively, "I'm not one for that sort of thing, Albus, as you very well know. Besides, the whole idea is ridiculous."
"Severus, don't you find it exhausting keeping everything inside all the time?"
You have no idea. "I have no earthly idea what you're going on about," Snape lied.
Dumbledore emitted a loud sigh. "I realize that you're a very private person, Severus, and you are perfectly entitled to your privacy—"
"Thank you," Snape interjected sardonically.
"You didn't let me finish. Privacy is important; it shields us from the severity of the outer world. But when secrets become too dark, too devastating in themselves, well, then the evil is not outside, it is inside. Sometimes the wisest thing one can do is open one's self to external guidance."
"That's easy for you to say," Snape muttered under his breath.
"Severus," Dumbledore continued, "there is no shame in being unguarded with those you care for, with those who care for you."
"Is that so?" Snape asked, disbelief etched on every inch of his face.
"Yes."
"You're wrong," Snape replied with bold certainty.
Dumbledore's eyebrows rose up into his forehead at Severus's defiance. Yet he couldn't help but be amused by his friend's self-assuredness. "I am not," Dumbledore rebutted calmly.
"You know very well that our lives preclude that," Snape argued. "Maintaining complete control over our minds is what gives us power."
"In some ways, yes," Dumbledore conceded. "But there is also great power in sharing yourself with another."
Dumbledore said it with such strength, such conviction, that Snape had to rebuke him, "That is much easier said than done."
"Of course."
And then, in a blink, Snape felt all of Dumbledore's walls go down.
He gasped involuntarily at the sensation – feeling as though he had been viscerally suspended in air, twirled and spun. He reeled from the shock of it, from the revelation that all of what Albus's mind contained had been laid before him instantly, without reserve.
Snape distantly registered that this should not have felt this way. Years of spying had demanded frequent use of Legilimency on his part – so much so, that being inside someone's mind had been, at one time, a nearly rote affair. Those countless experiences could have been described, at their very best, as ordinary. More often, Snape compared it to being trapped in a cold dark cave, clouded by dust, littered with debris. Those encounters left him frozen with discomfort, disoriented, and claustrophobic.
He might have known that nothing about Albus would be ordinary. He should have known that Albus's mind would be without equal.
Even at its surface, it was something spectacular to behold. Sensually, it was as though Snape had fallen into a deep immaculate pool, intensely clear, bright, and seemingly infinite. Much like the man himself, it positively sparkled with warmth and energy, glowing with every color imaginable, every shade seamlessly coalescing into brilliance.
Thoughts, memories and emotions – everything that is Albus – surged and swelled around him in a stunning dance. They felt like strands of fine silk, moving in time with the rhythm of Albus's magic, magic thatpulsed against his own. The sheer complexity of it was astonishing, and yet despite its immensity, Snape could feel its underlying meticulous organization.
He was mesmerized by the awesomeness it, by the miracle of seeing, experiencing Albus in such a way. It was hypnotic, intoxicating. He thought he might have been in a trance, floating in this pool of Albus's magic, suspended by the threads of his mind. Snape marveled at the sensation, so wholly foreign to him, and yet at the same time, inexplicably familiar.
With uncharacteristic boldness, fueled by the singularity of this encounter, Snape pushed further into Albus's consciousness. He was startled to meet with no resistance. No reactionary, instinctive barriers sprung before him, leaving him overwhelmed by Albus's capacity for absolute trust. Then a rush of exhilaration, a flooding warmth, told Snape that he had reached the center. He was at last submerged in the grandeur of Albus's mind. It was perfection beyond words, euphoria surpassing feeling. Snape had to remind himself to breathe.
As he found himself drawn to a particularly vibrant strand of memories, Snape could not help but wonder exactly what Albus would let him see, how deeply he might be allowed to go. Could not help but question what the rules of this unique encounter were. He moved closer, partly surprised, partly not, that Albus made no effort to stop him. That instead, as he reached out for it, a swell of energy, of magic, flowed over and through him, pulling him even closer.
Snape realized then that he was the subject of this strand. It took no effort on his part to view it. It opened before him without hesitation.
He is lying in the hospital wing, his body shaking violently. Albus is sitting in a chair by his bedside, trying frantically to calm him. He does not seem aware of Albus's presence.
Having no memory of these events, Snape deduced in mere moments that this must have taken place just hours after his return from the Dark Lord.
Dumbledore, for his part, couldn't help but be astonished at the precision with which Severus found this particular group of memories. Granted however, the memories of that night had been at the forefront of his mind for weeks now. And he considered then how easy it would be for Severus to see everything – his overwhelming emotions of that time, the words of affection exchanged between them, and the ensuing days of self-reflection on his part. None of it was deep. None of it was hidden. It was all there for Severus's taking. And Dumbledore asked himself if, in that moment, Severus had pressed for more, had gotten to the core of that strand…would he have laid it all out for Severus's perusal? He never got the chance to find out.
The surface layers of the memory alone were enough to persuade Snape that he need not linger there. He had no need of additional memories of that time. Fully aware of what an extraordinary gift this was, knowing that he would never have this chance again, Snape felt no regret at his decision. For in this moment, collecting knowledge was insignificant to the pure joy of simply being present here, of the privilege of connecting to Albus in this way.
He wanted only to stay here, in this miraculous place, enveloped by the exquisite folds of Albus's mind, to bask in its glory. To focus on a single memory, Snape knew, would be a grave mistake – like examining a single leaf instead of appreciating the grandness of the forest in which it resides. Snape released the strand of memories and emotions, and, as he did so, he felt, as if within himself, Dumbledore heave a sigh, which he did not know to be a sigh of relief.
Snape had forgotten about the actual person of the Headmaster. And now he disengaged himself just enough so that he could see both, the man and the mind. At first his vision was hazy, but gradually Albus came into focus. He was seated with typical composure and calm in the armchair directly across from him. But then Snape could see that his eyes were intent upon him, with a strange mixture of seriousness and amused fascination.
Snape did his best to quell the restlessness of his body, for now he felt as though he could read Albus's thoughts from his eyes alone. His emotions, his memories seemed to flit across the surface of those bright blue orbs. Snape felt his heart begin to race, somewhat unnaturally, from the force of it.
Snape knew then, with a palpable certainty, that this was the closest he would ever come to experiencing bliss. He was lost in this, utterly devastated by the weight of this unparalleled sharing, this perfect grace.
Just as soon as the thoughts entered his mind, Snape shielded them, anxious that this mental cathexis might be reciprocal in kind. He had reacted impulsively and he felt immediately ashamed, hoping, most certainly in vain, that Albus would not feel this sudden reinforcement of his defenses. Despite his best wishes, he felt he had made a mockery of Albus's fine gesture. He had not heeded the Headmaster's words, had not even been able to imitate the posture of vulnerability which Albus had so eloquently embodied.
The rub was that he needn't have done it; the connection was one-way only. But Severus Snape, Potions Master, Double Agent extraordinaire, could not take the chance. Could not risk Albus knowing, feeling what this meant to him.
That this was far more to him than an objectlesson in being 'unguarded.' That he was more than simply awed by a display of Albus's magical dexterity and finesse. That this was more profound than a simple sharing between friends. That, for him, nothing about this was uncomplicated. To say it changed things, changed him, would have been a gross understatement.
Snape understood, without question, that this was the most profound intimacy he had ever, or would ever experience. He could not let Albus see that.
And yet, though he might not see the affect he had had on Severus, truth be told, Albus Dumbledore felt something like it of his own.
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Author's Note: Longest chapter yet! Sorry for the delay….life has been extremely trying these past weeks.
Thank you for comng back for more despite the slow updates, and for all your wonderful reviews.
FYI: For those of you who aren't so keen on ffnet, I've finally found another chapter-by-chapter friendly site and am now posting this on Skyehawke as well! See my profile for the direct link.
This is, I think I have to say, my favorite chapter so far. I hope you enjoyed it as much I liked writing it. I've been working on it for a very long time….
Too bad Severus isn't an outdoors person, otherwise I think they might be snogging in no time, don't you think? But alas, things are never that simple. Beyond the obvious intensity of their conversations and Albus's grand gesture at the end, there is something so provocative about 'everything' being there for Severus to see, Seveurs being so close to knowing the truth, so close even perhaps to returning Albus's gesture in kind (oh if only!)
In the meantime, I am seriously on pins and needles waiting to know what you thought of this chapter and what in particular struck your fancy.
Please review and give your depressed author the gift of a momentary smile.