A/N # 1 – Non Con, Mpreg. Angst and unhappiness abounds. Not my characters that I'm abusing.
Kingsley Shacklebolt dutifully reported the first sighting of Severus Snape to Albus. The runaway Potions Master had been allegedly sighted in County Sligo, Ireland by a rather alert garda. The garda, knowing enough not to directly confront Severus, had dutifully informed her supervisors at the Garda Síochána na hÉireann. In turn, the Garda had contacted the Severus Snape Task force, which was nothing more than an elaborate front for the Auror Department.
"Drumcliffe? What is he doing in Drumcliffe?" Albus softly questioned. "I wonder whatever is behind his strange desire to visit Yeats' grave?"
"Albus?" Kingsley prompted after a few minutes of waiting for a pensive Albus to respond with appropriate instructions. "How do you wish to proceed?"
"Severus fled due to me, so it would quite detrimental if I'm involved with his extraction from Drumcliffe. Minerva will have to be informed. Severus trusted her; perhaps she'll be able to convince him of the necessity of returning to Hogwarts."
But there was a small problem to Albus' perfect plan to rescue the traumatized Severus from himself, Voldemort and the Minstry. Well, besides that small voice that reminded Albus Dumbledore that there was a strong chance that Minerva McGonagall had lost the trust of one Severus Snape.
Minerva did not answer her floo.
Aberforth and his lovely legs were working as it was Witches' Night at the tavern, Arthur and Molly were not home and Elphias was on a much needed holiday with his wife, children, grandchildren and great-grandchildren. Perhaps there was even a great-great-grandchild or three that had snuck in somewhere, Albus wasn't quite certain as he had long since lost count of the Doge descendants. As the valuable minutes ticked away, Albus realized that there was no one available that he could trust in the Order to send with Kingsley.
It was a choice between the devil and deep blue sea, Sirius Black or Remus Lupin…
Or himself…
"I'll have to go," Albus regretfully decided.
The terrified Severus Snape saw Albus and Shacklebolt and he gingerly moved away from the two wizards. Snape's dark eyes were wild from fright, and his eyes shifted back and forth, attempting to find an escape from the two strangely dressed men. Deliberately, Albus held out his hands to prove that they were empty.
"Easy, Severus," Albus gently whispered. "Let Kingsley and me assist you. Please, don't run, Severus. I know you're terrified, but please don't run. We truly desire to help you. I know you're rightfully vexed with me, but let me assist you."
"Better hurry, Albus, the Aurors will be here shortly," Kingsley tersely reminded him.
A desperate Severus then made a break for it, running away from Albus and Kingsley as though he had wings on his feet. Regretfully, Albus flicked and swished his wand, and caught Severus right in the back with a well cast Petrificus Totalus spell. The spell's effect was instantaneous with a paralyzed Severus falling to the asphalt. His impact was softened by a large feather mattress that quickly appeared to cushion his fall.
Albus, possessing a speed he thought long diminished, reached Severus' side before the far younger Kingsley did, and he tenderly placed his hand against Severus' head so he could negate part of the spell, just enough so Severus could breathe and talk. But like bloody hell would he let Severus have control over his feet as Albus was a tired, ancient wizard who couldn't dare hope to run like that again. Severus' dark frightened eyes stared into Albus' soul as the younger man pleaded, "Help me, please, help me, please. Oh my God, why won't anyone help me?"
"Severus, we wish to help you," Albus softly stated. "You're justly displeased with me; I will not argue that fact…"
"Who are you? Why do you call me Sever..us? What have you done to me?" Severus questioned. There was true panic in his voice. "Why can't I move my arms and legs? Why did that girl scream that I'm a murderer? I've never hurt anyone in my life. I swear. I swear. WHO ARE YOU?"
"Easy," Albus whispered. Carefully, he put his hand against Severus' forehead, needing to Delve to see how badly damaged Severus was.
He Delved, and then Albus abruptly withdrew from the man's mind. Then, he gently closed Severus' eyes with his fingertips. The fight left Severus' body as he collapsed into a deep, dreamless sleep.
"This isn't Severus," Albus tersely informed Kingsley. "It's a Muggle. His name is Daniel and he was assaulted by three strangers who forced him to drink something rather sharp-tasting. When he woke, someone was screaming that he was a murder and he ran like the very hounds of hell were after him. I've put him to sleep for at least an hour."
"They're Polyjuicing Muggles, Albus?" Kingsley intently questioned. "Well, at least he'll revert back to his true physical form before he wakes. We'll have to Obliviate his memories."
Albus nodded his head once in weary acceptance.
"I'll stay with Daniel. When the rest finally arrive, I'll explain to them that he's not Severus," Kingsley promised Albus.
"I fear that this will not be the last false sighting, Kingsley. Voldemort wanted to use a kidnapped Severus as a distraction, and it appears that he's adapted his plans to match the current situation. A few strategic sightings of faux Severuses here and there will create an atmosphere of uncontrollable fear among both Magic born and Muggles, and it will tie up resources that could be used to keep Voldemort in check."
"I'll make sure to mention that also," promised Shacklebolt. "I'll keep you informed."
Oxana gave Sasha a brief, succinct overview of her day, including her bantering with Albus Dumbledore. Like she expected, her personal Dark Wizard immediately separated the wheat from the chaff, and focused on the truly important issues facing them.
"I can't believe that you got me a familiar," Sasha calmly stated. Then, with a slightly anxious tone, he reminded Oxana of a basic, inescapable and implacable biological truth. "You do know that there will be litters of kittens in our future."
"That's only if Nadya decides she likes Grisha, plus they only breed once every ten years or so. The average litter size for an Archangel cat is one kitten which is why they're so highly prized as familiars, besides their extreme intelligence and their longevity," Oxana reminded him. "Can we possibly talk about more important issues rather kittens?"
"We're about to be overrun by litters of kittens; what could be more important that that?" Sasha questioned, obviously dumbfounded by her belief that anything could be more serious than an imminent horde of cute and cuddly, warm and fuzzy four legged creatures that would descend on his shop and destroy his livelihood with their razor sharp claws.
"Your patient and the various mages who are looking for him, for one. Aren't you a wee bit concerned that his mixed breed mage breeched my wards after I spoke to him?" Oxana curtly reminded Sasha.
"I was troubled, but now I'm not," Sasha calmly admitted. "There's no use being worried, as there's nothing I can do. I can't leave the shop; I've tied the boy into the heartstone so the child won't drain him dry while I attempt to repair his arm."
"The heartstone?" Oxana interrupted. She bit her lip then, to prevent herself from blurting out a multitude of questions. Sasha always knew what he was doing and possessed assorted back up plans in place just in case something went wrong. She owed her life to one of his obsessive, compulsive backup plans.
"Yes, the heartstone. No, I've not lost my mind. Yes, I know the shop's wards are completgely dependant on the strength of the heartstone, but we've been feeding it daily for over twenty years, so it shouldn't be weakened too badly. Yes, there was no other option available if I wanted to keep him and the child alive as he's utterly drained. Yes, in spite of my better judgment, I'm helping the lad for a variety of obscure motives, far more than just my overwhelming guilt for Dana and Iskra, and no, I don't feel the need to further explain my motivations. Yes, it's likely I've gone utterly astray in the head and yes, you're quite correct to be quite vexed with me as I'm a nutter putting you in needless risk for our little stray," Sasha easily answered her unspoken questions. "Oh, and yes, I truly appreciate my new fuzzy, four legged, best friend, and I'm planning on immediately planting more catnip in the garden so I can spoil her rotten. I haven't had a familiar since that bastard got my crup, Galen. I've quite missed having one."
"Are you sure you're not a Legilimens, love?" Oxana quipped after a long pause to thoroughly digest Sasha's dissertation.
"No, I'm just a superb Occlumens, because I've long since walled off anything faintly resembling human emotions. My aloofness is for the Greater Good after all, Oxana. When I lose control of my emotions, it's not pretty and people die," Sasha calmly stated. "Adrik can't be moved from the shop until his treatment is completed. St. Albus could walk through that door right now, surrounded by hordes of his dedicated followers, imperiously demand that I turn Adrik over to him and the boy couldn't leave the shop. I've started his treatment and he can not be moved. St. Albus would just have to accept the simple truth that the boy and their daughter will die if they're abruptly disconnected from the heartstone. Dumbledore can sulk and choke on that bitter truth until the world ends for all I care."
She stared at him in complete and utter disbelief.
"Speaking of blessed St. Albus, Renowned Defeater of Dark Wizards, Patron Saint of Noble Causes, I can not believe that you told St. Dumbledore that you wanted to be there when Adrik's daughter entered Hogwarts. How sweet, you wished to personally THANK HIM for everything he's done to help her and her family on that auspicious day! I don't remember you ever being such a cheeky monkey," Sasha gently chided. "When did that quiet and committed Russian Auror develop such sass? You're quite fortunate that the fickle goddess of irony didn't strike you dead."
"I've had a very bad influence in my life for the last thirty odd years. Even since I was nearly killed in an alleyway in Geneva, I'm afraid that I've turned to the dark side," she quipped. "Near death experience and all that, made me decide to stop being a proper lady and experience life to its fullest. That includes bating Albus Dumbledore, I'm afraid."
Instead of responding to her flippant comment with a dry quip, Sasha just shook his head.
"I cautioned you about me," Sasha seriously informed her. "I warned you to leave me before I completely corrupted everything that was good about you. Thirty years on the run with me, and what can I offer you? Can I give you the riches that you deserve? Have been I able to show you magical splendor that would steal your breath away? No, I can only offer you, Manchester, truly the arm pit of the universe. I wanted to be a healer; instead I'm a Blood Cursed mage, a destroyer, a slayer of souls."
"Yes, you're such a destroyer that you actually saved my life, Dami. Plus, I noticed that you rather happily binned that fragile boy and completely washed your hands of him," retorted Oxana. "Seems that someone hasn't completely shut off his human emotions in spite of his noisy claims otherwise."
Sasha grumbled and growled, which meant that she had scored.
Nadya was released from her cage, and she regally accepted part of Sasha's meal as a suitable, queenly repast. Only after Nadya was full, did Sasha eat his portion. They ate in silence as Sasha was intent on savoring the food of his homeland.
It was only after Sasha's third glass of wine that he finally spoke.
"When Adrik's fever peaks, he pleads with me not to hurt him. His terror overwhelms him, and what he plaintively offers to mitigate my supposedly wrath is rather… nauseating. I'm really not into what he proposals. Perhaps, if the boy was in better shape and in his right mind, I might be a tad tempted, as I'm rather sophisticated in my interests and always interested in expanding my mental horizons," wryly commented the Bulgarian.
Oxana snorted her disbelief. "He's not your type, Sasha, as he's too emotionally fragile for a proper dalliance. You prefer the rare soul who is able to physically and mentally handle you."
The mage nodded his head, and began drinking his wine again.
"Do I really look like him?" Sasha softly questioned after he had drained the glass once more. "Last time I saw him he was ginger."
She gave him an appraising look, and then nodded her head.
"You've both got the long, white hair and the beard. His is straight, while you have those lovely curls. Thankfully, you've got a properly trimmed beard, while his has grown completely out of control. You're a little taller and more muscularly built than he is, plus you have much better taste in clothes," she assured him. "There's something in your facial expressions that's the same."
"Arrogance? Self-superiority?" Sasha dryly questioned.
"That might be it," she softly agreed. It wasn't the truth, as she'd pin the similarity on other darker emotions, such as regret, sorrow and lamentation.
"Perhaps, I could cut my hair," helpfully offered Sasha.
She hissed her disapproval at that idea. Oxana rather fancied long haired wizards.
"Color it?" He quipped.
Filius and Minerva Floo called Albus and finally, when he answered their call, the Headmaster immediately requested that they come to his quarters.
"Actually, can you visit us?" Filius requested in an exhausted tone. "It's a long story, and I'm rather knackered."
Albus began talking the minute he exited the floo, sounding so much like a naughty school boy caught in mid-prank that Filius had to double-check that it was Albus Dumbledore standing there. Albus, ignoring Filius' close scrutiny, intently explained to Judge Minerva why he had to go with Kingsley to locate Severus.
"Wait!" Minerva interrupted. "You're saying, Severus was in Drumcliffe? He ran from you?"
"Yes," Albus insisted. "Kingsley and I saw him. I Petrificus Totalus'd him…"
"That's bloody impossible, Albus," a fatigued Filius inserted. "That couldn't have been Severus as the boy's too depleted to run."
"You're right, it wasn't Severus," admitted Albus. "Why do you say he's too weak to run?"
"Minerva and I Located him using a Soul Search. He was deeply asleep as Severus is physically and magically knackered. I was able to open his eyes to See where he was. There was a mage treating Severus… he knew we were there, and he was most displeased with our arrival. For our troubles, he sent us on very roundabout Soulride back to Hogwarts."
"What else can you tell me? How is Severus? Our daughter?" Albus intently questioned. "Who was the wizard?"
"I couldn't sense your daughter, but we were barely in Severus before we were kicked out," Minerva stated. "He is a foreign mage, I think, as he was singing something. Filius? Do you remember it?"
"More sokol pie, voda na vardaro," sang Filius in a rather pleasant tenor. "Perhaps my pronunciation isn't correct, but that's what it sounded like, more sokol pie, voda na vardaro."
He wasn't singing it alone, as Albus had joined in. His voice was rough, not quite as smooth as Filius' trained tenor, but still the Headmaster sang.
"More sokol pie voda na Vardaro. More sokol pie voda na Vardaro. Jane, Jane le belo grlo.
Jane, Jane le belo grlo. More oj sokole, ti junachko pile, More ne vide li, junak da premine?"
"I knew a Bulgarian mage that used to sing that song, but I haven't heard it in a very long time years," Albus admitted very softly. He sounded pained when he continued to question them about the mage. "What did this Bulgarian mage look like?"
"He had curly hair, green eyes," Filius stated. "I don't remember much more than that, as I only got the quickest glimpse before he sent us on our way."
"Minerva? Curly hair, green eyes?" Albus' voice was strained. "How old would you say this mage was?"
"Yes, white, curly hair, long enough to wear it braided, and his eyes were green," Minerva agreed. "He also wore a neat beard. I don't know how old he was, but he seemed older than I am."
"My age? Could he be my age?" was Albus' next question. His voice, while soft, was quite intense.
"I'm not sure," Filius admitted. "I didn't see clearly through Severus' eyes. The wizard seemed... whimsical… as when he sent us back to Hogwarts, the mage did it in a roundabout way, letting us know that he had a great deal of power, but he had elected not to harm us. As much as it irks my pride to admit it, he judged us and dismissed us as being of no significance."
"It can't be. How could he have Severus?" Albus softly questioned. It was a rhetorical question as Albus did not wait for Filius or Minerva to venture a guess. "He's in Nurmengard! If he escaped, I would have been notified. But a Soulride? That damn song…"
"Gellert Grindelwald?" Minerva and Filius exclaimed in horrified unison. They glanced at each other, and then stared at the agitated Albus Dumbledore.
"I need to go to Nurmengard," Albus quickly decided. "It's imperative that I confirm who and what exactly is in their topmost cell."
"You can't go the Nurmengard without so much as a by your leave," angrily protested Filius. "You still haven't bloody told us what happened in bloody Drumcliffe!"
"It wasn't Severus," succinctly explained the Head Master.
"Yes, we bloody guessed THAT part," sniped Filius. "Care to enlighten us further?"
"It was a Muggle who had been Polyjuiced into becoming a copy of Severus," Albus quickly explained. "I originally feared that Severus and the… our… daughter was meant to be a distraction to me, a way to keep my mind focused on them rather than what Voldemort is planning. With Severus' second disappearance, Voldemort has decided to use it to his advantage, as depositing Severus clones in various places will cause complete chaos and mass panic. The Muggle Authorities, the Aurors and the Orders will naturally spend a great deal of effort investigating each appearance."
"Just when the situation can't get much worse, a new twist is added," groaned Filius.
Sasha had skipped his afters, as he was busy reading Hogwarts: A History and cross referencing it as necessary with suitably caustic commentary from Oxana. His partner was reading The Muggles Parents' Unofficial Guide to a Magical Education: Everything You Need to Know about Hogwarts but Don't Know Enough to Ask (What Dumbledore Doesn't Want You to Know). It had been printed by the Quibbler Press.Oxana was often laughing at some of the wilder proclamations, such as the very idea that a great big bloody basilisk had been running amuck in the pipes of Hogwarts with no one being the wiser, but she knew there was some truth behind the mad ramblings.
The Quibbler had announced that Damyan still lived after all. They just had him serving drinks in the wrong bar.
The problem was….finding the nuggets of truth amid all the bloody garbage.
"Our boy's mentioned in here," Oxana announced to her lover. "He's in the Faculty Picture of Hogwarts."
"Really? He's a Faculty member? What does he teach? Potions?"
"Taught Potions for many years, and then was recently assigned this school year to instruct 'Defence Against the Dark Arts'," Oxana stated. "Oh, this is priceless; the Defence position is rumored to be hexed, as for the last forty odd years no one has ever come back for a second year. One was a werewolf, another one was a mad Auror brought out of retirement for a year who was actually a Polyjuiced Death Eater who was impersonating the Auror who he had locked in a trunk, several have disappeared right before final exams, one got viciously disemboweled by a Hinkypunk in front of his class…Our stray is apparently quite the Potions Master, as he has patented at least three dozen potions, plus he has created six Charms that were added to the current curriculum at Hogwarts. "
Sasha put down his book, and walked over to Oxana's chair, before he began peering at the picture.
"How would you like to learn how to fly, love?" Sasha questioned. He then softly laughed. "Don't look at me like that. Adrik informed me that he could teach me how to fly, Oxana, in exchange for medical care. Maybe the boy wasn't joshing me. It could be beneficial to keep him around after the babe is born as he could be quite financially productive. Now which one is Minerva? Any idea which one could be the mixed breed?"
"Minerva is standing in the back row, next to our little stray. On her right, is the Blessed Savior of Humanity aka the Clueless Wonder that Didn't Realize That There Was a Great, Big, Bloody Basilisk in his Bloody Plumbing, and I believe that Filius Flitwick is the mixed breed mage. He's sitting on the couch next to that woman with the short, wild hair who possesses what can only be kindly described as a hawk nose."
"Flitwick…? I know that name…. Filus Flitwick!… He's a former Dueling Champion before they outlawed it as too many reckless purebloods were getting their privates hexed and otherwise mutilated, making them unable to produce more little purebloods. He had an impossible strike zone," Sasha loudly exclaimed. "It was also rumored that he was a rather chivalrous fighter plus supposedly he never cheated in his duels. I would have been more respectful if I had known it was him in the boy. Mark my words; I'll probably rue the fact that I sent them back on their way instead of killing them both."
He stared at the photo of the Hogwarts Faculty staff for some time, earning a haughty look or three from the various professors who didn't appreciate his keen interest.
"Flitwick and McGonagall, that's whom I banished from the boy," Sasha decided. "Damn it, I wish I had known it was her. He trusts her… yet… he doesn't. I would have liked to make my own impression of her. They both were involved with the creation of Adrik's remarkable magical wand, so the question is, did they do it to help the boy? Or did Dumbledore request their assistance? Do they hold the boy's wellbeing as more important than Albus' vested interest?"
Sasha rubbed his aching temples before he sighed.
"Be back, he's slipping into a nightmare," he stated. He jogged up the steps to his bedroom, and Sasha having vacated his seat, Grisha immediately jumped into his chair to enjoy the warm cushion. Nadya, taking her role as Sasha's familiar very seriously, meandered after Sasha.
He was in the Headmaster's office, pacing back and forth, so unbelievably furious with the old man. Sirius Black, murderer of Lily Potter, had literally flown from Hogwarts as it was the only way he could have escaped from Flitwick's locked chambers. Severus knew, knew with a fiery, blazing certainty that Harry Potter was to blame and that damnable Headmaster had assisted the escape. There were times when he truly loathed Albus Dumbledore.
Naturally, his irritation was noticed by the Headmaster, and unlike Sirius Black, he was not permitted any leniency. Instead, the Headmaster forced an unholy rapport onto him, and Severus was powerless to resist.
Severus was bleeding and torn when the savage Dumbledore had finished ravaging him, and only through sheer force of will was Severus able to keep his composure. Like hell would he have ever wilingly let the Headmaster know that Severus had once craved such intimacy, but somehow, Albus had guessed the awful truth. But in Severus' foolish naivety, he had believed the Headmaster would be a compassionate, gentle lover. As with all his silly daydreams, the reality was far worse than his darkest nightmare as Dumbledore used sex as a punishment to keep a crushed Severus in his place. There was no compassion in Albus Dumbledore; it was just a façade to hide the devil beneath.
"Severus, please, I truly detest when you pout," mocked the Headmaster. "You're my little, dirty Slytherin whore, Severus. You willingly come back for more, and you know that you enjoy it. You adequately warmed my bed when you were a student, and now that you're a Professor, nothing's changed. Sadly, washing your hair is still quite beyond your ability."
"No, you're not him," Severus vainly protested, as he knew this dream wasn't reality. "You're not. I know you're not. You're LeStrange. You're roleplaying… I know you are…NOT him. You're doing this because the Dark Lord wishes you to do so."
In his mind, he had accepted that this incident hadn't occurred like this, but his heart… his heart unreservedly believed otherwise, and that's why he was trapped in his nightmare.
"I know you're not Albus. Albus wouldn't do anything like this, as Albus Dumbledore is just so bloody wonderful that he shits bricks of platinum and pees a stream of liquid gold," sarcastically mimicked Albus. "You're so damn pathetic, Severus. You're a greasy, pitiable excuse for a whore. Blaming the Dark Lord for me not treating you nicely? Truth be told, I'm rather tired of you, your limp technique and your constant sniveling, but it amuses me how you put me on a pedestal. Fortunately, Remus Lupin is available if I need a young man to squire me around to various functions. He's a very pretty boy, even with his scars."
"Remus?" Severus tremulously whispered.
"Yes, Remus." Albus gleefully agreed. "Sweet boy and even sweeter kisses. Plus he fills my bed so nicely."
It was the ultimate betrayal for Severus Snape.
"I warned you about him. Need I remind you that he nearly killed your precious Golden Trio tonight," Severus shrilly reminded the Headmaster. "He's attempted to kill me twice!"
"Too bad, so sad," Albus mimicked his shrill tones. "You'll keep your mouth shut about what happened out there tonight, or else I will be displeased. Do you want me displeased with you, Severus?"
Severus backed away from the unconcealed threat in Albus' blue eyes. He put his hand over his distended belly, knowing that he had to protect his Ariana from the blue eyed devil that had sired her.
"No, please," Severus whispered. "You know that I'll obey, Headmaster. But he would have killed me tonight… and our child isn't viable yet."
He earned a hard blow on his right cheek from Albus for his feeble protest. Albus' thumb had struck his nose, so there was a slight trickle of blood from his nostril.
"You're supposed to keep her safe, Severus. Don't look for trouble, fool. Do I need to confine you to your quarters?" Albus raged. "You promised that you'd behave, that you'd keep her safe, Severus. It's obvious to me that I love her far more than you do as I never would have put her in harm's way."
Severus wept then, as he knew Dumbledore was correct. He had nearly killed Ari in his jealousy over Remus. To his surprise, Albus cuddled him and gently stroked his limp, greasy hair.
"I have to be strict with you in order to protect you from yourself, Severus. If you only weren't so horrid and reckless, we could have a proper relationship. You just have to try harder to control your base, vile nature, Severus. If you were only a better person, we wouldn't have to keep our relationship secret. I know you want me to take our relationship public," Albus softly whispered. "I'd be proud to let everyone know we were lovers… if only you were capable of proper behavior. But you possess no couth, Severus, you're nothing but an embarrassment to me. It's not a question of if you'll embarrass me, but only a matter of when."
"I'll try harder, I swear, I swear," Severus insisted.
"You always make such sweet promises, Severus, and you never manage to keep them," Albus reminded him. "I see such things in your lovely dark eyes, Severus. Do you know what I see now? You're thinking of fleeing, Severus. You run, have no doubts about it, I will find you, and when I do find you, I will make you regret running away."
"I'd never run," Severus assured Albus. "I promised you that I wouldn't run."
"Liar," Albus spat. "Just remember, I will be furious if you flee, and when I locate you, I will severely punish you. But… I comprehend how much you love being reprimanded, so I will need to give you a suitable punishment. Perhaps Remus Lupin would like to help me raise Ari. I'd rather have a Gryffindor werewolf nurture my daughter than a greasy Slytherin."
Dumbledore then angelically smiled, and Severus knew that Albus had already intricately planned on how to replace him completely with Remus Lupin. Not only just in Albus' bed, but in Ari's life. His daughter would be raised by a flea-bitten werewolf.
"Remus?" Severus screamed. "He's a werewolf! You can't trust our daughter with that rabid werewolf!"
"Easy, there's no werewolf here," softly stated Sasha. "I need you to wake."
Hesitantly, Snape opened his eyes, and Sasha gently brushed Severus' forehead with his hand. The wizard looked concerned.
"You shouldn't be dreaming," Sasha softly confessed. "You do not possess a fever which might explain your dreams. I fear that perhaps there is a great deal unsaid between us. You haven't told me everything and I have not asked the correct questions. As your personal Healer, I will require the truth in order to treat you."
Severus swallowed once and attempted to find his shattered courage so he could calmly speak of what horrors he had endured. He would have to compartmentalize what had happened, so he'd be able to speak with a suitable detachment. Pitifully sobbing in front of the infamous Bulgarian Dragon would be… mortifying.
"Not tonight," Sasha quietly assured him. "You're quite exhausted, and I fear that the telling of your misadventures will be taxing. Let's try something else. Take my hand, Adrik."
Hesitantly, Severus took the wizard's callused hand. The Dark Wizard gently closed his hand over Severus' hand.
"Just to let you know that I'm here," Sasha explained. "Adrik, please take a deep breath and as you exhale, close your eyes and begin to feel yourself relax. Now, take another deep breath… you're surrounded by a white, warm light. You're safe and protected. No one will be able to hurt you as the white, warm light will protect you."
"I'd rather have you and your wand protecting me," snarked Severus. "Least then the two of us have a fighting chance."
"Adrik, do what I say, please, as this mental exercise should help ease your emotional stress and promote the healing of your physical trauma," Sasha said in a very mild tone. "Take a deep breath, exhale…"
Sasha sounded so much like Dumbledore that Severus instinctively took a deep breath. When the Headmaster spoke in that tone, it meant that he was quite displeased with Severus' intractability and that Severus needed to shape up immediately.
As directed, Severus inhaled, exhaled, tensed and relaxed assorted muscles, and then when Sasha counted up to ten, Severus imagined that he was in a safe spot where he had been happy.
He wasn't surprised when he realized where exactly his mental happy spot was. It was the park where he had first watched Lily and her sister play. Once more, he was in his hiding spot from which he could safely watch the happy families and enviously pretend that he belonged to one of them.
He knew he should push such thoughts from his mind; he was suppose to relax, completely empty any and all thoughts from his minds. His splendid attempts failed as he kept getting distracted.
The park was empty except for one little girl. She had wild, uncontrollable ringlets of glossy black hair. She jumped with wild abandonment, she gleefully skipped and then she ran to the slide and there was no doubt she was a Gryffindor as she recklessly slid down headfirst. Then the girl saw him. Her dark eyes widened in delight and with a loud shriek of joy, she ran towards him, her arms opened wide.
"Play with me, Papa!" The little girl implored.
The child latched onto his right hand and began to pull him upright. Severus could hear Sasha's melodious voice softly in the background, reciting some positive thought that would supposedly help suture the gaping wounds in Severus' battered soul. But truthfully, Severus wasn't paying the slightest attention, as he was with Ari.
"Push me on the swing! I can go so much higher when you push me!" She regally commanded. Then for good measure, Ari added a heartfelt, "Pleeeeeease, Papa?"
"When could I refuse you anything, Ari?" Severus softly stated.
Especially as Ariana had the Headmaster's smile and the damn twinkle in her dark eyes. Thank Merlin, Ariana's nose was absolutely properly shaped. It was not a beak like his, and it was perfectly straight, unlike the Headmaster's crooked, meandering nose. Her ringlets were the Headmaster's curls and there was no doubt in Severus' heartbroken mind that she was a Gryffindor.
Ari hugged him then, and he was emotionally overwhelmed by her empathy. Perhaps Ari was a bit like Lily had been, willing to tolerate a greasy Slytherin as long as he toed the line. This time, Severus swore, he wouldn't screw it up by being a bloody arse and he'd treasure every stolen moment. In the background, he could hear Sasha counting backwards to one in order to bring him out of the hypnosis state, but Severus steadfastly refused to leave his happy spot.
"Want to stay here," he plaintively protested.
So he did, and after the seemingly inexhaustible Ari thankfully grew tired, they sat underneath a tree. She climbed into his lap and he put his arm around her. The sky was blue, the grass was green and there was the slightest amount of wind to prevent the day from being too hot.
But some higher power decided to make it even better for Severus.
"Love you, Papa," his daughter whispered as she snuggled closer to him. Ari was in next to no time asleep, and Severus struggled to keep his eyes awake. Sasha was still talking to him, attempting to guide him into a deep, restful sleep, but Severus mightily struggled. He didn't want to waste a single, precious moment.
This wasn't reality, Severus knew and accepted that fact, but didn't he deserve some joy? He wouldn't live to see this, so why couldn't he imagine such happiness? His mind was full of horror, of events that had never occurred, so why couldn't he have this false, happy memory to balance that evil?
His eyes grew heavy… and then he knew no more.
"You're going to Nurmengard?" Minerva repeated in Albus' quarters. When Albus had left Filius' chambers, she had followed him so they could continue their soon to be rather heated discussion without any witnesses. Minerva was dumbfounded as she couldn't believe that she had heard Dumbledore correctly. For good measure, she repeated herself. "NURMENGARD?"
"Yes," Albus succinctly stated. "I need to confirm that someone's still there. I spoke to the guards, and they expect me in thirty minutes."
"Gellert? You believe that Gellert has Severus? Just because a wizard hums a Bulgarian folk song doesn't mean that he's Gellert," Minerva tersely reminded him. "Aren't you jumping to spurious conclusions?"
"Curly hair, green eyes, a powerful, whimsical wizard possibly about my age and that particular song makes it a very strong chance that it's Gellert," Albus tersely explained. "Soulriding is also a trick of his. Do you wish to go with me?"
"To confirm that it's him?" The witch tartly questioned. "Or to confirm that the mage is someone that looks like him, or possibly even Gellert with a Glamour?"
Albus held out his hand and spoke, "No, to reassure yourself that I've not gone completely barmy."
"It's a little too late for that," she quipped. Truly, she meant it as a joke, but Albus lost his smile, and he dropped his hand.
"Very well, I'll be off then," Albus softly whispered.
Hesitantly, she put her hand on his. "I'll go with you, Albus."
They landed in front of a dark, unwelcoming fortress. The jail towered over the landscape and it was jet black and forbidding. Minerva was a brave soul, descendant of many brave Scottish warriors, but still she lost her formidable courage, staring at the desolate prison.
She couldn't help but look at the entranceway, and she silently thought, "For the Greater Good".
This entire mess with Severus could be satisfactorily summed up with those four words. Everyone had thought that they had known best for Severus, and look at the damage that had caused.
Two guards met them at the entryway, and Minerva was astonished that the dark, heavy door opened with not even the slightest groan of protest.
"Zdraveite Gospodin Dumbledore! Kak si?" The stockier of the two guards spoke at length with Albus in Bulgarian, and then he questioningly glanced at Minerva.
"Gospozha McGonagall ne govorya Balgarski," Albus stated. "Govorite li Angliiski?"
"Radko," he stated. He made a gesture and Albus agreed with a soft, "Da."
"Radko speaks English fluently, so they're getting him, as I just told Yordan that you don't speak Bulgarian," Albus softly explained to Minerva. "Yordan's English is about as bad as my Bulgarian. It'll take a few minutes, so you can take a seat."
The rather oppressive atmosphere of the jail made her uncomfortable so she refused to sit. Instead, she walked toward a small room and examined the photograph on the wall. It was an early black and white photograph as the figures moved only slightly.
"Toma Filipov and Sofia Filipova who were brother and sister, Lazar Mikhailov, Penko Nanov, Damyan Draganov, Ivanka Petrova, Nevana Stambolieva, Rada Dafovska, Snezhana Ignatieva and Gellert," Albus whispered. "This is the Hall of Remembrance. The builders of the memorial demanded that a picture of Gellert and his various lieutenants was placed here as a reminder to all that evil can wear many faces, both pretty and the not-so-pretty. Gellert demanded perfection in his lieutenants, that they be physically attractive and mentally astute. Voldemort seems to prefer his followers otherwise."
Minerva looked at each figure in turn, and for some reason, her eyes lingered on Damyan Draganov. The tall Dark Wizard had curly dark hair and rather striking good looks. He possessed a hooked, patrician nose to match Severus Snape's beak and he had a rather pronounced chin. But it was Damyan's eyes, his light colored eyes, which haunted Minerva. The vast majority of Gellert's followers appeared to be a merry bunch, but Draganov's eyes didn't match the beaming grin on his face.
His eyes were full of profound misery. Whatever the reason he had joined Gellert's Brotherhood, the bloom had long since faded from that particular rose, and he intensely regretted it. His eyes were exact twins of Severus' dark eyes after Severus returned from a Summoning from He Who Must Not Be Named.
With that, the lightbulb went on in Minerva' head. She peered at Damyan, attempting to add fifty years, two feet of white, curly hair and a neatly trimmed beard.
It could be.
Yes, he very well could be the mage that was helping Severus.
Oh, bloody hell Severus, I hope that I'm mistaken. Why would that terrible bastard be assisting you, unless he's in league with He Who Must Not Be Named?
"Do you know what the current statuses of these people are?" Minerva softly questioned.
"They're dead except for Gellert," Albus tersely stated. "He's the only one that still lives of his blessed Magical Brotherhood."
"Damyan Draganov?" Minerva intently questioned.
"Dead in Prague," Albus easily assured her. "The Czech Aurors got him in 1958. It took two dozen of their Aurors to successfully contain him. Heavy casualties, six dead, eight fully disabled and the majority of the rest were declared mentally and psychologically unfit to return to duty."
"I thought you said that the Russians believed otherwise," Minerva prompted.
"One was discharged from the Czech Auror Department on the grounds of mental instability as she insisted that the body wasn't Draganov. They tested it, and the results conclusively proved that the body was Draganov, but her ramblings had managed to convince the Russians that they needed to further investigate. That's why that Russian Auror was killed in Geneva as she was sent out in the world looking for Draganov without a backup. I do believe that he's dead and the world is better for it. That monster was trained as a Healer."
"A Healer?" Minerva weakly questioned.
Oh, my dear bonnie boy, what have I done? Dear, sweet Danu, please let me be wrong.
"Yes, but he broke every standard and every oath long before he joined Gellert. The proud lineage of Bulgarian Draganovs has a Blood Curse that has been passed down through countless generations. They're Berserkers, and he killed his wife and unborn child, plus an innocent Muggle bystander in an uncontrollable fit of rage. The Bulgarian Aurors, naturally, attempted to contain him, and the Dragon massacred them all. Terrible, terrible monster. He was only captured as he was utterly spent when his wrath faded, and without delay, Draganov was immediately sentenced to death. The Bulgarians didn't give him a trial as he was utterly mad and he was the only living witness to his atrocities. The day before his scheduled execution, Gellert and his followers broke him out of the prison," Albus stated. "He quickly became a favorite of Gellert. I believe that he and Gellert were lovers for a time."
Albus nodded his head once, before continuing, "Though it was interesting, as Draganov was there when I fought Gellert. Draganov had the utmost contempt for me, and he let me know it. The others, they hated me for standing against their grand ambition, but the Dragon despised me."
"I wouldn't expect him to welcome you with open arms," Minerva quipped. "Perhaps he was jealous of your previous relationship with Gellert."
"No, it wasn't that. The others… their hatred was … cold, impersonal… but for him, it was… personal. I never had any understanding why…" Albus admitted. "He wasn't jealous, as his hatred was based on a far greater emotion rather than mere petty jealousy."
For a moment, Minerva wondered if she should mention her suspicions to Albus. She looked at Albus closely, debating how he would react to her belief that the mage handling Severus was an allegedly deceased Dark Mage who hated Albus. Oh, and the allegedly deceased mage was a Berserking Madman who had killed his wife and child, plus the entire Bulgarian Auror Department, most of the Czech Auror Department and should she mention that he was a former lover of Gellert's? Plus, the mage had immediately suspected Albus when he realized that someone was Possessing Severus.
Albus wouldn't handle it well, she decided. This spur of the moment trip to Gellert's prison cell in the middle of the Bulgarian night meant that a very guilty Albus was making rash, impetuous decisions. Previous injudicious, ill-advised, unilateral decisions by Albus had caused the panicked, paranoid Severus to take flight. How would the damaged Severus react if Albus found him now? Would it be better for Severus to allow Severus his freedom? Would freedom from Albus' constant surveillance mend him? Or would he take that as further proof of his abandonment by Albus?
Plus, could she honestly state with any conviction that it had been Damyan Draganov that she had seen? Merlin's wand, she didn't even know if Draganov had green eyes. Did she really wish to assist Albus exhume Draganov's grave tonight? The way a fey Albus was acting, he'd probably break a few rules and resurrect Draganov just to confirm the mage's death.
Hadn't her assessment of what Severus had supposedly needed help cock up everything? Shouldn't the dead be allowed to stay dead?
Shouldn't Severus be allowed for once to make his own decisions, for better or for worse, free from meddling souls who wrongly believed that they knew best?
No, it was time to keep her mouth shut, research Draganov further and get Filius involved. If Filius agreed on her hypothesis, then they'd mention it to Albus.
Or perhaps, not.
Gellert Grindelwald was informed that he was having a visitor.
Oh, an official visitor, one should quickly add. He often had assorted, unauthorized visitors of which his guards were never the wiser. His Brotherhood was still loyal, and they would visit or send him mail. In fact, he had just finished the last of Snezhana's contraband care packages. But an authorized visitor was rare, and he had been specifically ordered to wear a clean robe and comb his hair.
How droll, as he kept his hair neat and Gellert prided himself on always being presentable. Yes, he was incarcerated and wandless, despised and denigrated, but damn it, he still had his pride.
"Behave yourself," growled one of the younger guards. "Or I'll make you."
"Feeling powerful, aren't you? Aren't you the brave one? Do you feel safe that you can threaten me when I'm defenseless," Gellert retorted.
"Well, you don't need to threaten our honored guest," stated Asen, who was the senior guard in the room. "Our visitor can handle him quite nicely. In fact, Gospodin Grindelwald, you're being allowed the chance to talk with a very old friend, and we won't be here to watch you. He's requesting complete privacy for your conversation. The Administrator agreed to his request."
Gellert smiled, attempting to appear in complete control on the situation, but he would admit to himself that he was uneasy that his guards were being dispatched elsewhere.
"Very well, he'll be in here in just a moment. He's brought a friend with him, so please be a proper gentleman now, Gospodin Grindelwald," Asen requested.
"Yes, Gospodin Peychinovich," Gellert assured the sentinel. Of all his guards, Asen Peychinovich was the lone sentry who treated Gellert like he was human. He never slopped Gellert's food on the floor nor knocked over his water with a negligent kick.
Some wizards in Gellert's position might be angered; the very thought was repugnant, of being reduced to such a state that such common courtesies were rarities. But Gellert had reached for the stars, and having failed to catch so much as a firefly in his noble endeavor, he took his punishment as his due.
Yes, possibly, he had learned humility in his endless confinement. Why else had he refused Snezhana's pleas to help him escape? Perhaps it was loyalty to his fellow Mages that had him refuse Snezhana's assistance. The ones that had escaped didn't deserve to be locked in a cold prison cell. They were steadfast, and such loyalty must be reciprocated.
He stood like a man, much like the feared wizard he had once been, waiting for his visitor. No doubt, his unforeseen and unexpected visitor expected Gellert Grindelwald to be a mewling wreck of a man. No, Gellert Grindelwald, while having learned temperance and compassion during his incarceration, still had his pride.
Or so he thought, until two people walked into his cell. He only had eyes for one, an older wizard with long white hair and a matching white beard.
He knew that mage quite well, for the wizard had filled his dreams and nightmares for near a century.
"Albus?" Gellert whispered.
A/N # 2 - apologies to any Manchester-ites.