Delivery from Evil
Severus watched as his Patronus made its way towards Harry Potter. An uncomfortable feeling pressed in on Severus as he observed the child and the doe stare at one another. Something in this was akin to mother and child; even Severus could not pretend he did not see that idea behind this image before him.
It was his Patronus, but some part of him had always hoped and wished something of Lily was present in that glowing, graceful essence. The boy went after the doe and Severus followed out of sight, watching warily as they made their way through the trees.
Potter seemed incautiously eager and then, to Severus' surprise, the boy ran right at the doe and through it.
He would have usually considered it a pretty stupid action, but the desperate abandonment in which the boy ran reminded Severus so much of Lily. For a little while Severus simply stared as the emotions of Lily's memory washed over him.
There had been little things over the years that Potter did to remind Severus of Lily, things he had always tried to ignore or pretend did not happen. All those moments now crowded back into his mind: a word, a gesture, a certain letter on a parchment, the eyes. Always those green eyes forced him to remember Lily.
Severus had spent many years protecting this child and right now he saw the Weasley boy had returned and the two were attempting to get the sword. Severus had given much of his life to protect this child for Lily, but none living knew the things he had done.
As Potter and Weasley gained the Gryffindor sword, Severus felt a cold emptiness swell inside of him.
After all this time protecting this one boy, all that work would end with one magic spell. Severus wondered what use he had really been. He protected Harry Potter only to wait for the right moment so the boy could sacrifice himself.
Potter and Weasley headed back to their camp. Once they were gone, Severus apparated back to the gates of Hogwarts. He made his way onto the grounds and back up to the Headmaster's office, his expression quite grim.
A soft twitter met him as he walked into the office; it was ball of feathers' special greeting for him each time he returned. It relieved the bitter feeling a little, but he did not let the emotion go very far. There was no point enjoying it because he knew it would not last very long.
"How did it go?" Dumbledore's portrait asked.
The bird landed on the desk and bounced about as Severus approached. He sat down and the bird hopped forward to stop in front of him.
"He has the sword," Severus answered calmly. "The Weasley boy has also rejoined him," he added.
"Excellent. I knew Ronald would return eventually," Albus announced, sounding delighted.
Out of his robe pockets Severus lifted an apple he had picked up earlier. Without much ceremony, he took a knife out of the top drawer of the desk and began to slice the apple into even pieces.
The bird eagerly ate what Severus offered to her as he watched without comment. He also took a few slices for himself and shared it with the feathered creature. He had been doing this since the holiday. He had taken his meals in the office and the bird stubbornly had shown him she was not going to take no for an answer. So he had started to share with her, simply to appease the fussy chatter when he had tried to keep her from his food.
"How did Harry look, is he alright?" Albus' portrait asked curiously.
"I did not examine Potter closely enough to give you a detailed account of his health," Severus replied softly. "Is it really all that important, considering what will be his inevitable ending?" Severus asked bitterly.
The portrait did not reply right away but waited a few moments as Severus and the bird shared a few more pieces of apple.
"How did you manage Harry finding the sword without making yourself known to him?" Albus questioned.
"I … used … my Patronus," Severus answered jerkily.
"I see," the portrait commented. "Very good idea," he added.
The bird gave a sharp noise and moved forward to climb up on Severus' arm. She made herself comfortable and sat down, nipping gently at his sleeve and then rubbing her head a couple of times against his arm.
Severus did not attempt to make her move. He simply sat staring down at the gray creature, unmoving as he watched her. She turned her head, looking up at him curiously.
"It is not so bad to have company up here," Albus' portrait implied. "Fawkes was a good friend to me. I knew even for you it would not be easy to be alone, especially now. I remember when I first became Headmaster. I missed the classroom quite terribly and I did not really imagine I would until I had to leave it behind and become officially Headmaster," he imparted.
Severus made no reply but he did feel the weight of the choices he had made; they hung heavily on him and he could not really understand when these regrets had gained such a hold on him. Severus did not admit it to the portrait, but he did miss the classroom.
It was so much simpler and familiar and he wished he could go back to what he had been, before he had killed Albus. He had taken the Unbreakable Vow, thinking how clever it would be, gaining the favor of the Malfoys in the process of a task he already had to do. It seemed brilliant, at least at first.
Then, as the year had gone by, the realization that he would actually have to murder Albus made him angry with himself and equally angry with Albus. The man could tell Potter everything, but he, Severus, was just pushed and pulled between the two powers. Nobody would know the truth now and he felt less likely that anyone would believe him if he explained it to them.
"If a soul is so damaged by dark magic, is it better that the soul should die?" he asked the portrait suddenly.
"What do you mean, Severus? What soul are you speaking of?" Albus asked nervously.
"My soul"
There was a pause and the portrait seemed to wait before it answered.
"Are you speaking of your past, or about me and what I asked you to do last year?" Albus questioned. "We all make mistakes in our youth, Severus, are you regretting something? Do you believe your soul is damaged beyond repair?"
"Since I have become Headmaster, I have had odd thoughts … and moments of contemplation about myself," Severus began. "I have rarely considered others into my actions or … no, that is not correct … I have, but I never -"
He stopped. He was trying to voice his thoughts, but he just could not do it. "I do not know how to explain," he muttered harshly.
"Severus, if I were to tell you I know you will find peace and happiness, would you believe me?" Albus asked kindly.
"When I'm dead, I expect you mean," Severus considered darkly.
"Death is not the end, Severus. I am quite sure there is more awaiting you than just death," he added.
"Ah yes, the next great adventure," Severus uttered, frowning deeply. The little bird gave a soft and soothing twitter. "I suppose it really doesn't matter, what is done is done," he considered.
"Well, at least you are communicating with me after all this time, instead of sitting mutely without much to say," Albus insisted.
"I-I communicate!" Severus snapped.
"Yes, when you are angry and then you go off on a tirade," Albus suggested. "You've always held much inside and the only time you wished to talk is when you are upset about something," the portrait offered. "I would have liked these internal musings earlier … why have you always been so hesitant to share them with me?" Albus asked.
"Never mind," Severus asserted as he stood up. "You are just a portrait anyway," he added as he made to leave.
"Off to bed then, are you?" Albus asked, a hint of humor in his voice. "I'd say you two have got along rather well since the Christmas holiday, so is she going with you?"
Severus stared at the bird still fixed on his arm; he held his arm bent, not even really thinking about the gesture or the fact that she was still there.
"As a matter of fact, yes, she is …but so you don't talk her to death or bother her about … internal musings," Severus muttered and headed away.
"Goodnight then," Albus stated, grinning with humor as Severus walked away.
Severus simply waved his free hand back in a dismissive, annoyed manner.
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Time passed and the situation at Hogwarts was as well as Severus expected it could be. Certain students still caused problems and seemed intent of raising the bar of their deviant behavior.
Severus knew they were testing the limits of what they could get away with. However, he also knew the longer it went on, it was only a matter of time before the Carrows took things to the next level.
The next level was soon revealed to be using the Cruciatus curse as punishment in the classroom.
McGonagall was furious, along with all the other professors.
He had to remind her of the deal they had made the first day he had arrived at Hogwarts as Headmaster: that Professors would be allowed rule over their classroom as it always had been at Hogwarts. Severus knew Dumbledore would never approve of some of the actions that were taken, but it was impossible to keep the likes of Neville Longbottom from causing trouble.
It also would not do for him to interfere too much, given that anything he did or said would be reported back to the Dark Lord. No students had been killed and the Carrows were having students practice on each other. One had to really mean the Unforgivable to cause any real injury, and although he suspected certain students would be more enthusiastic than others, he doubted they would be skilled enough to do any permanent damage.
Severus wondered why Neville Longbottom had chosen this time to discover his backbone. Like any normal Gryffindor, he did not know how to choose his battles properly. Also the Lovegood girl had been taken off the Hogwarts Express and there was nothing Severus could really do about it. So, Longbottom was down a lieutenant in his mighty Dumbledore's Army.
Either way, he would have to let things stand as they were for the time being. Time passed and he was content to spend his hours in the Headmaster's study.
His faithful little companion was his only real life company. Every once in a while, ball of feathers would leave for a day or two. It unsettled his schedule when she would disappear and not come back. He would stay angry with her for a full day when she returned, but after that they resumed their normal roles as office companions and now dorm mates.
He allowed her in his bedroom and she assumed the role of a little guardian. She tended to sleep on the top of the headboard, but sometimes, to his surprise, he would wake and find her resting at the edge of his pillow or sitting on his hip while he had slept.
It was inevitable and he knew eventually it would happen - a summons from the Dark Lord. It was in the very early morning hours while darkness still blanked the grounds when he felt the Dark Mark burn on his arm. He had been asleep and had awoken with a jerk as the Dark Lord's voice slid into his thoughts.
"I am coming to Hogwarts. I approach the gates; do not keep me waiting long."
He got up hastily and the bird roused, giving a nervous chirp as he moved about the room. He dressed and then left with no comment on why he was departing.
He made his way down to the gates where the Dark Lord awaited him. Severus opened the gates and the Dark Lord entered, waiting as Severus closed and locked the gates again.
"My lord?" Severus said softly as he moved around to stand beside Voldemort.
"You appear well," Voldemort said smoothly. "Being Headmaster suits you, then?" he asked as his eyes darted over the darkened grounds.
"Yes, my lord. I am pleased to serve you here at Hogwarts," Severus replied softly, wondering what this visit meant.
"Walking is tedious. Let us test our new ability, I will see if you have been practicing," Voldemort prompted silkily and a moment later Severus and Voldemort were gliding across the grounds beside each other towards the lake.
Once they landed the Dark Lord dismissed him.
Severus did not hesitate; he bowed and headed back up to the castle. It did not do to ask questions: to obey was always the best course of action where the Dark Lord was concerned. Severus wondered why he was here, but knew it would be imprudent to ask.
It was early enough that no students were awake yet, and he wondered what reaction would come from those inside the castle seeing the Dark Lord on school grounds. He quickened his step, making his way back to the Headmaster's office.
"He is here. He has said he will join me shortly," Severus announced as he entered the office.
The bird began to behave very peculiarly. He thought he had closed the door to the bedchamber, but apparently not, seeing as how the bird was now in the office. She was twittering nervously and flitting about the room.
"What has got into you?" Severus scolded darkly as he made haste to tidy up before the Dark Lord would arrive. He tried to ignore her, but she began to get on his nerves
"I have told him that none of you speak to me," Severus commented to Dumbledore's portrait. "So it is better that all of you pretend to be asleep … would you shut up and be still!" he snapped as the bird flitted by his head.
She began to chirp aggressively and started to flit about more, making him a bit frantic simply by her unusual activity.
"I believe she senses your own mood far better than even you do, Severus," Dumbledore commented.
"If she acts in this manner when he is here, he will simply destroy her," Severus declared angrily, watching the bird flit by again.
She landed on the desk this time and stared up at him, a frightened glimmer in her eyes. Then she took flight again and zipped over to the window where she began tapping on it in a determined manner.
Severus sighed and walked over and opened the window. Without hesitation she jumped out the window and flew out of sight into the predawn sky. He closed the window but stood there staring out into the darkness, worry creeping up into his thoughts. He came back around to the desk and Dumbledore seemed to know the bird had left.
"She will return … it has been a while since she's gone out alone," the portrait offered.
"She leaves me now, when I desire her company the most, she leaves," Severus complained repressively, not looking at the portrait.
"She will be back. Have faith, Severus," Dumbledore said gently.
"When one walks with the devil, faith is rarely an option," Severus replied softly.
All the portraits, including Dumbledore, all of a sudden closed their eyes and appeared asleep. Severus knew why, hearing a sound outside the door of the stairs that lead up to the Headmaster's office. It was not a loud noise, but after being up here in the Headmaster's office it was easy to recognize the sound of someone coming up.
The Dark Lord was on his way and Severus did not sit but waited, standing beside the desk. The door slowly opened of its own accord and the Dark Lord stood on the threshold a moment, scanning the room before he entered.
Voldemort did not speak as he walked forward, but his eyes were fixed upon the painting of Albus Dumbledore. There was an eagerness in the eyes and a sneer of arrogance on his lips.
Severus bowed submissively and watched the Dark Lord calmly.
"So, they still do not speak to you?" Voldemort asked, his voice smooth and cold as his eyes fell on Severus.
"No, my lord, they do not as yet offer their service to me," he answered.
Voldemort stared into his eyes a long moment and then nodded.
"So, the position of Headmaster, it pleases you and you find it was what you wanted?" Voldemort asked.
"Yes, my lord, very much," he answered.
"I told you long ago this was what you were meant for. Like all of my followers, you have certain talents. This means that there is a place where you belong among my warriors. All do not serve in the same manner," the Dark Lord began and he walked about the room, his cloak sweeping out behind him as he began to investigate the room.
"You do not fall into the category of Bellatrix, she is very much like the blade of a sword," Voldemort mused as he touched objects and ran his finger along a small shelf of books. "You on the other hand are much more like the handle, something to hold onto and to direct the path of my weapons."
"I have put you in this place, given you the Headmaster's position for the purpose you were meant for. To teach … your skills at creating spells I knew. I knew when Lucius brought you to me you would one day outshine him."
"I serve you as best I can, my lord," Severus asserted.
"Yes, and I am pleased with all you have accomplished for me," Voldemort replied as he moved back around to the other side of the room, coming to a stop beside Severus.
"I wish you to take up your old skills, Severus … how long has it been since you created an original spell?" Voldemort asked.
"I-I am unsure, my lord, exactly when I last tried," Severus replied hesitantly.
"Such a waste," Voldemort hissed smoothly as he lifted his eyes to Dumbledore's portrait. "Talent sent to rot with Dumbledore and the old fool never knew what he had right under his uneven nose," he asserted as he walked forward to stand in front of the desk again. He stepped back and sat down in the empty chair in front of the desk.
Voldemort waved a hand towards the chair behind the desk, giving Severus leave to sit down.
Severus moved over and sat down in his chair and folded his hands in front of him
"I am sure you still have the talent, so let the Carrows worry about the students for now. McGonagall is also still here, isn't she? The old alley cat is useful for the tedious paper work, I'm sure," he allowed, cruel humor in his tone.
"Yes, my lord, Professor McGonagall does her job efficiently as ever," Severus replied.
"I believe it is time you started to consider your future," Voldemort mused in a thoughtful tone.
"My future, my lord?" Severus repeated.
"Yes. It would be acceptable for you to find a wife. I am sure a suitable mate can be arranged, given your new status," Voldemort stated smoothly.
"A wife, my lord?" Severus repeated nervously.
"You have an important place now among my followers, it will be up to you to set an example," Voldemort insisted. "I have foreseen a time when I will require more followers. Britain is just a start, Severus … how are we to wipe the Muggle stain off this planet if we are so disappointingly outnumbered?"
"Those children raised to believe our ideals are always a more acceptable option for us. Those we can train from the start," he went on.
"Yes, my lord, but I am not sure that I am the appropriate person to -"
"You are, Severus," Voldemort cut in sharply. "A female is easily found, look at the Weasley blood traitors for example. They have bred like rabbits and produced only magical children. Their pureblood state aside, they have many offspring."
He paused as if in deep thought before he continued.
"Perhaps we should put the Weasley girl with the Malfoy boy. I am sure, given the chance, they would make talented magical children. In this way we could bring their pureblood family into the fold," Voldemort mused, as if he were speaking of breeding animals to obtain an acceptable trait.
"I do not know if the two families would … agree. They dislike each other quite forcefully, my lord," Severus commented, not sure what to make of this or how to really answer Voldemort. This was an uncomfortable conversation at best for him.
"I do not care what they like - if it is what I wish, it will happen!" Voldemort snapped viciously. "It would be a way for the Weasley family to accept the new order of things."
"O-of course, my lord … I did not mean to imply -"
"Never mind," Voldemort cut in, waving a hand dismissively and cutting Severus off.
Silence fell between them for a few moments and Voldemort studied Severus quite intensely during that time, boring into his eyes, digging deeply, searching.
Severus steeled himself against it, sending his thoughts, memories and desires deep down into himself as far away as he could from Voldemort's intense searching eyes. Even though he hid himself skillfully, it did not hide from the Dark Lord things he was already aware of.
"I remember long ago you asked for that mudblood, that you lusted after her … Potter's sweet mother. I do admit she was a pretty package, but the makeup of the whole would not have been acceptable for you. Do you not agree, Severus? In your youth it was simply a passing fancy to want her as a simple diversion."
"Yes, my lord. I know I made grave mistakes in the past on this situation where … she was concerned," Severus admitted.
"A pureblood female would be best suited for you anyway, do you not agree?" Voldemort pressed, his eyes fixed still on Severus.
"Yes, my lord. I agree that is the path I should take. A pureblood would be the best choice for me, given my situation," Severus answered.
"Yes and I am sure that someone acceptable can be found. Perhaps Lucius will assist you with this matter, since he has become quite useless for anything else lately. I have just come from the Malfoy Manor, where apparently they let Potter slip from my grasp," Voldemort commented and then pulled out of one of his robe pockets a bit of broken wood.
"You may return this to Lucius when you next see him. If he fails me again, no words from you or anyone else will spare them a slow and messy death," Voldemort said as he placed the shattered remnant of Lucius' wand on Severus desk.
Severus simply stared down at the piece of wand, unsure what to make of the wand or what might have happened. He also felt uncomfortable with the prospect of giving this bit of wand back to Lucius.
Severus wondered how long the Dark Lord had kept this broken bit with him, waiting for the right moment to use it as a prop for what he was really intent on speaking about. He knew the Dark Lord would not care about this wand or returning a bit of it and he did not believe that Voldemort really cared about finding a wife for him. He was sure there must be another reason for this appearance.
"I will return it, my lord, as soon as I next see him," Severus replied submissively.
"I have been searching for something, Severus," Voldemort informed casually. "My search has finally ended tonight," he went on, excitement edging into his voice. "For many months I have hunted, each time on the brink of finding it and tonight I have located an object that will help me defeat any who stand against me," he went on, watching Severus even more intently as he spoke.
"I am pleased to hear that you have found what you were looking for, my lord," Severus acknowledged in a pleasant tone.
Across the Dark Lord's mouth spread a dark smile which slowly turned to a sneer. The room grew quiet and Severus wondered whether he would speak again.
"Is there anything you need to tell me, Severus?" Voldemort asked calmly, his tone pleasant and musing.
"No, my lord … nothing that I can think of," Severus replied cautiously.
Voldemort's eyes lifted up to Dumbledore's painting a moment and held there for a few seconds. Then he lowered his eyes to Severus', the sneering smile still etched on his face.
"The school runs well, I am sure, but is there anything else important I should know, perhaps things that Dumbledore might have spoken with you about?" Voldemort questioned.
"I have given all the information I know, my lord. There is nothing else that I can recall that would help us. He was always careful with what he told me. I wish I had gained more valuable insights so that I could impart more than I have. I am sorry I failed you in that area, my lord," Severus answered.
"It appears that in truth he never really trusted you, Severus," Voldemort considered. "I suppose I should be angry, but in some way it also confirms for me your true nature," he offered silkily. "Perhaps any secrets that I need know about will work themselves out soon enough," he mused and then stood.
Severus stood automatically.
"I will leave you now, Severus. If I have need of you, I will contact you at the appropriate time," Voldemort informed as he turned. Severus gave a bow to him, but before Voldemort left he turned back to stare once more at the portrait.
"It is lucky for me that he never realized how valuable you really are, Severus," Voldemort added, then without another comment and, without waiting for Severus to reply, the Dark Lord left.
Severus sat back down once the Dark Lord had left. He thought he should feel relieved but he did not. For whatever reason, worry entered his mind even more than it had when he was awakened a short time earlier by the Dark Lord's summons.
He glanced at Dumbledore's painting and frowned with worry.
"What is it he is looking for? He would not come here if he did not already know something of information he is questioning me about. So what is it?" Severus asked smoothly.
"I fear I cannot say what it is he wants," Dumbledore replied.
"You cannot say?As in you do not know, or is it more likely you will not say because I should not know?" Severus pressed coolly.
"Severus, I have explained this to you already -"
"You know? Do you know what he wants?" Severus cut in bitterly.
"Severus, I can't possibly know everything, you must realize that -"
"No, I don't. Some things he says are true," he barked back, not letting Dumbledore finish. He stood and walked to the door the Dark Lord had just exited moments earlier.
"It does not matter as long as the objective is achieved, correct? I was not in this for the greater good like you, I never was … but lately I have thought, no, I hoped, somehow I could be that way or I could find a way to … to … never mind, it does not matter, I have things to do."
Before Dumbledore's portrait could stop him, he left. Dumbledore frowned sadly, but there was nothing he could say to correct mistakes of the past. After all, Severus was right, he was just a portrait
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"She has not returned," Severus muttered late one evening.
He had not spoken to the portrait in a few days, ignoring the comments and prompts Dumbledore's painting tried to make.
"She will return, I am sure," Dumbledore soothed, sounding happy that Severus was now speaking to him again. "I do miss her as well. I wonder what she will bring you this time," he added, trying to sound positive.
"I mean the Weasley girl," Severus complained. "She did not return from the holiday," he explained.
Dumbledore did not comment, but his expression became glum.
"Michael Corner has been taken to the hospital wing. He was caught by the Carrows attempting to set loose a first year they had apparently chained up," Severus informed. "They have also informed me they do not care what the rest of the Professors want or don't want anymore. They have made it clear Neville Longbottom is as good as dead by the end of school," he went on.
"You cannot allow them this kind of liberty, Severus. You made a promise to me! You said that you would protect the students," Dumbledore complained angrily.
"HOW exactly do you wish me to do that? If I am to interfere with them, how will I explain myself if they complain to the Dark Lord? Exactly what do you want me to do?" Severus asked.
"You are Headmaster here, not them!" Dumbledore shouted.
"You are correct, you are always correct, aren't you!" Severus spat viciously. "I can't protect every student … you didn't, did you … yet you expect me to!" he fussed. "Harry Potter, your favorite, is even intended for death … maybe if you had spent more time -"
"Don't you dare judge me, Severus Snape!" Dumbledore yelled, his painted face showing anger as the two stared at each other.
"Why hasn't she come back, you said she would!" Severus complained forcefully, changing the subject.
"Do I need to ask who we are speaking of this time?" Dumbledore muttered heatedly.
"The bird … the bird …" Severus announced, his voice shaking with emotions. "I-I don't want to feel this way again … I don't want to!" he pleaded, standing aggressively and pacing the room. "Stupid bird … stupid … I hate her!" he went on forcefully.
"You do not hate her," Dumbledore countered, watching the man pace back and forth like a caged animal. "Get hold of yourself, Severus, it has only been a few days," he ordered.
Severus stopped in front of the desk and closed his eyes. Painful emotions he did not want to feel again welled up in him.
"I wondered when a breakthrough would come with you. It's taken a considerably long time for this kind of outburst to arrive. I'm glad to see it, frankly. I am relieved the little ball of feathers is finally making you feel something," he informed.
"I'm NOT feeling anything!" Severus replied, his eyes still closed.
"Loving something means being able to let it go," Dumbledore began. "You hold on so tightly, Severus. Those that you choose to love would hardly be able to breathe, given your nature. Perhaps you should realize that, before it is too late. Make adjustments in that aspect of yourself … find the courage and strength to actually change for the better," Dumbledore finished gently.
Severus seemed ready to rage back, his eyes flew open and his face twisted for a moment with intense anger, but then it was as if what Dumbledore had said settled inside his mind. Severus' expression changed to a simple frown; he gave a sigh and walked round to sit down behind the desk again.
"Severus?" Dumbledore's portrait said softly when the man said nothing.
Severus raised a hand as if he were swatting away a fly, he did not reply. He had no desire to speak to Albus again, not until she returned as he had promised. He said the bird would return but she had not yet. Another promise broken by the one man to whom he had entrusted his life and the life of the woman he had loved.
So, until she returned, he would not speak to the painting again.
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Tap.
Tap. Tap. Tap.
"I knew it, I knew she would be back," Dumbledore's portrait announced.
A number of days had passed and the bitter silence had altered in Severus to personal contemplation and deep self-loathing. Severus had not spoken to Dumbledore's portrait since the last argument.
He turned now to stare up at the painting, Dumbledore's bright face smiling and pleased. Severus still had no idea how to accept this jovial kindness. It was another insistent series of taps on the window that made him know most surely what he really wanted.
He stood and swept forward to the window. He opened it, expecting a flutter of gray feathers to bring her inside. Instead she sat on the little ledge staring up at him. She appeared quite tired and worn but watched him avidly, her eyes sparkling in the dim light.
He narrowed his eyes, wondering why she did not enter.
"Come, come. In with you," he ordered, waving a hand toward the inside of the office.
She remained firmly seated on the ledge, unmoving and ever watching him.
"Where have you been?" he asked impatiently as if she were a naughty student. A sting of jealousy nipped at him, but he pushed it aside giving a slight shake of his head to fend the emotion off. "If you are seeing another wizard, I shall have nothing more to do with you," he stated, trying his hand at irony and humor.
Still she sat there unmoving.
Worry entered his mind. Was she hurt? He frowned, leaning forward to try and detect any signs of damage or wound. He could see nothing wrong with her at all and he grew impatient waiting.
He very carefully reached out with both hands and scooped her up off the ledge. She did not protest or try to wriggle free. Using his shoulder, he pushed the window closed. Her little body felt very cold in his hands so he hastened forward to his desk.
"There she is. Hello, my dear," Dumbledore announced, seeing her in Severus' hands as he stopped beside the desk.
Severus moved her, adjusting her so she rested in the bend of one arm, bringing her close in to his body. With his free hand he gently laid it on her back and held her there. He was sure it would warm her, but it was more for himself that he did it really; he could feel her little heartbeat against his arm.
She fit perfectly in that spot in the crook of his arm and that little thumping heartbeat reminded him that her presence had been sorely missed.
"I will never say this again aloud," he began, his voice shaking slightly. "I have considered … I have had premonitions that I may not live out the year," he stated softly. "Your company and assistance these past few months has been … the most important … t-the best … the best of it."
He paused, unable to give his emotions and feelings the right words. Severus struggled a moment before he could continue.
"Do not leave me again. Belong to only me and if I die … stay with me until the end," he finished.
After that night she did as he asked and it was as Dumbledore had said, she returned. There were no more arguments between them after that night.
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It was late the next night when he returned to the office. He was sure that he heard voices from inside and he flung the door open, thinking perhaps a student had broken in.
The only thing that greeted him was the soft twitter of excitement that was her usual greeting for him.
"I heard voices," he muttered as he closed the door and headed over to the desk.
"Only us, Severus. We were chattering away with your friend," Albus said kindly.
Severus eyed the portrait and bird suspiciously as he stalked around and sat down behind the desk. He pulled out an apple from his pocket.
Ball of feathers bounced forward without hesitation. As the usual routine he sliced the apple for her and spread the pieces out on the desk. She ate eagerly and gave his finger an affectionate nip.
"Severus, I am glad to see -"
"Don't!" Severus cut in over Dumbledore before he could finish.
"I was just going to say I am glad to see you have a friend, a living one to give you comfort," Albus pressed firmly.
"I don't want these words from you. I don't need pity or sympathy, and frankly I don't need to hear your opinion of my pet," he added sharply.
"So, you claim her now?" Albus asked, his voice showing no signs of hurt from Severus' harsh tone.
A moment or two of silence passed. Severus' scowl of anger and that feeling inside left him and instead was replaced by a depressive sadness.
"I will say in my life … there have only been three females I have ever loved," he began passionately. "Unfortunately for me, two of them are dead," he finished in a harsh whisper. It almost sounded as if the words had been forced out of him against his will.
Before Dumbledore's portrait could reply, a flutter of gray wings brought the little bird up onto Severus' shoulder. She forced herself against his neck and began to make soft affectionate noises. She wriggled under his curtain of hair.
"You are right, she knows my mood," Severus whispered, unable to move or touch her. The affection of the small creature was truthfully more than he could really stand, but he did not want to push her away.
Worry began to eat at him and he wondered what would happen to her if events did not proceed as he had planned.
"If things go badly for me … if the worst happens, make sure none harm her. If … if you can," Severus begged. "Please try to do better than last time, won't you, Albus?" Severus asked, emotions threatening to break in his voice.
"If I were alive, I would give my life for that dear creature," Albus stated emphatically. "Whatever happens, I and the portraits will make sure no harm comes to her," Albus vowed.
"Thank you, Headmaster," Severus allowed.
He stood and hurried away so that the portraits would not witness his weakness.
For the remainder of his time as Headmaster, the only joy he took was in the presence of the little gray bird.
At night he began to speak to her, not as an owner to his pet but as a man with no other friend in the world. It was easy to admit things and speak to the bird, especially in the dark. She would never break trust with him or give his deepest thoughts away to anyone else.
Albus had again been right, every Headmaster needed a pet. He did not have to be ashamed of what he told the feathery being. The more he spoke, the easier it became to reveal all the deep pains and wounds, all the things he had done and the horrible events he had witnessed.
He had never shared these inner things with anyone else, not even Albus or Lily, the only two people he could even think of that would have ever been privy to his soul.
He still was unsure how to accept her affection and it overwhelmed him sometimes, even from a little bird. Still, he let her do as she wished and had no desire to scold her. He had done enough of that in his life and this time he would spoil her as if she were a favored Slytherin student.
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The last day arrived, his last day as Headmaster of Hogwarts. He realized it the moment he met McGonagall in the corridor, saw it in the air around her, knew Harry Potter was there. He had sensed it, dreamt it and even felt it: his new found life was soon to be over. It had been a good few months so what else could he really ask for?
No other option was placed before him; he was attacked and could only escape. He ran and as he did so he remembered his bird; she was up in the Headmaster's office right now. As he leaped through the window to escape the attacking Heads of House, he wondered what would happen to his little friend.
He could not go back for her because he knew to bring her with him would only put her in far worse danger. It was better than she stay up there, safe and unharmed; Albus would protect her, he was sure of it.
It was hours later when he stood outside the Shack at the summons of the Dark Lord. He stopped abruptly at the sound of her twittery call. It was as if his heart leaped to life like it had not beat for a thousand years but had chosen this moment to tell him he was most surely alive. He did not move but simply waited as she landed on his shoulder. The fear of her being killed was eliminated and relief washed over him. He slowly lifted his hand to pet her, welcoming her into his presence. She made an unsettled chirp and rubbed her head against his jaw line.
"So, you have managed to scrape through this battle as well," he whispered. "I am not surprised by your talent, my dear, but you cannot protect me any longer," he insisted, pushing his hand under her chest so she would stand on it. He pulled her away from his shoulder and stared at her with his most forceful expression.
"This is no place for you, ball of feathers," he decided and flung his hand away, causing her to have to take flight. "Get yourself away from here, saucy female … I have no need for you!" he snapped.
She gave her most memorable hissing growl and dived at him, intent to stay with him. He did not allow it and moved away, hastily entering the Shack and barring her way so she could not follow after him.
As he made his way inside, the angry twitter called to him for a few moments over the sound of the battle at the castle. Then it died away and he sighed, hoping she would retreat to a safe place until he could find her again.
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"Harry. Harry, wake up!"
"What's wrong with him, why won't he wake up?"
He groaned. Someone was shaking him. At first he did not recognize the voices and was angry that someone would dare shake him this way.
"Where … is … she?" he muttered angrily. His head was throbbing painfully. "D-don't hurt her … keep her safe …"
"Harry, we're here."
"We're back, Harry. It's us."
"Why is he sweating so much … does he have a fever?"
"Look, Hermione, do you think he drank a potion? What could this have been?"
"I don't know."
He felt hands shaking him again. He gasped and struggled to wake up. He slowly opened his eyes but he could not see properly. What was wrong with his eyes? Why was everything so fuzzy?
"W-who are you?" he asked, trying to push himself into a sitting position.
"Harry, it's us, don't you know us? It's Ron and here are Hermione and Ginny. They're back from Australia," Ron announced, sounded worried.
"Harry … I-I'm Harry. I'm not Severus," Harry said nervously and pressed his hand to his forehead. He felt as though he were going to retch.
"What did you say?" all three said confusedly in unison.
"Harry, here … your glasses," Ginny offered, holding them out to him.
He stared at them a moment, then reached out and took them.
"I … I think I'm going to be sick," he whispered.
Ron made a face and took a hesitant step back. Ginny and Hermione came forward and each took an arm. They helped Harry shuffle to the edge of the bed.
"Ron, please do something useful," Hermione muttered as Harry's legs now dangled over the edge of the bed.
Ron looked around desperately for a moment. Then, seeming to have a brilliant notion, he grabbed a small waste basket from the corner of the room and presented it to Hermione.
She simply stared at him as if he had just passed her a dead rat.
"Is that the best you can do?" she asked impatiently while helping to hold Harry in place. Ginny was gently smoothing Harry's hair back and speaking to him softly.
Harry's hand shot out and he grabbed the basket and then he vomited into it. His three friends wore a face of fear and disgust. After a few moments that seemed to last forever, it appeared to be over.
Hermione took out her wand and vanished the contents of the basket. She handed the waste basket back to Ron.
"Blimey, Harry, what in Merlin's name did you eat?" Ron asked. Even though the contents of the basket were gone, he still held the basket at arm's length.
Harry did not reply. He just leaned forward a little, pushing his hands up into his hair.
"Harry, did you drink some kind of potion?" Hermione pressed.
Still he did not answer but his eyes lifted to stare at Ginny. It took him another few seconds but then he blinked in recognition.
"I'm … Harry. Right … I am me," he said, his voice shaky.
"Of course you're Harry," Ginny said as she put a hand on his back to comfort him "What happened? You can tell us … please, we are your friends," she stated kindly.
"Friends. He … he only had her," Harry muttered depressively.
"Who do you mean, Harry?" Hermione asked calmly, sitting down beside him.
"Severus," Harry answered.
"Snape?" Ron questioned awkwardly.
"Professor Snape," Harry snapped glaring at Ron.
Ron frowned and slowly took a step back, setting the waste basket down and then sitting down on his old bed.
"You … you just … it was just how he used to glare at me. It was exactly the same way," Ron complained. "It used to scare the bleeding hell out of me," he added warily.
"Harry, tell us what has happened," Hermione said more forcefully. "Is this about your mother and Professor Snape? Is it something that -"
"No … not her … the bird," Harry insisted jerkily. "Ball of feathers … the … she …"
Harry trailed off, trying to give words to what he wanted to say.
"Just relax, Harry … take your time," Ginny soothed, putting an arm around him and gently squeezing. "Let him take a few minutes, Hermione … just let him sit for a bit," Ginny insisted.
Everyone became quiet and simply waited, sitting with him while he struggled to regain his senses. After a long while he gave a sigh, the awareness of himself taking back over from the events he had witnessed.
He had literally seen a whole year of events. Some things he could not quite remember, but there was an entire year of being Snape now trapped inside of him. Slowly he relaxed and those memories became like a very real dream. It was not easy to just ignore the fact that he had been Severus for a year, even if it was not real.
Once he had finally got himself under control, he began to tell his three friends what happened and why. Then he went into the details of everything he had seen over the year of Snape's life. They were all silent and did not interrupt him until he had come to the end.
"Harry, that was a very foolish thing to do and you know it," Hermione complained, worry in her voice. "At least you didn't go into the Shack … thank goodness," she added.
"I wish I had," he snapped, anger edging his voice. "I … I could have been with him there at the end," he added passionately.
"You were there," Ron said. "You were, mate, remember?" Ron insisted.
"I-I was … I was there …" Harry replied, his eye welling up with tears. Ginny quickly pulled him over, hugging him to her.
Again the room fell silent and Harry wept, but it was more of relief than anything else. Still an echo of sadness crept in as he thought of Snape and all he had done.
"He … hated me but he still protected me. He was angry, so angry I had to die …" he muttered, it was as if he knew Snape's thoughts, understood them far better than he ever had before. "Nobody cared about him, from the first nobody cared … my mother, she cared but then … he was so alone, it was horrible," Harry went on, his tears leaving him and a hint of anger entering his voice.
"The bird … you remember her, Ginny, don't you? You spoke to him when the bird was attacked, remember?" Harry stated, staring into her eyes with desperation. It was as if she confirming it would prove all he had witnessed was real.
"Yes … I told you about the bird," Ginny replied gently, taking his hand.
"You told him he picked his side and the bird picked him. Do you remember saying that?" Harry asked.
Ginny frowned slightly and appeared a little ashamed of herself.
"I didn't know then. I-I shouldn't have said that to him," she replied meekly.
"It's alright … he was hurt by it, but it made him remember my mother. He knew you were right, Ginny," Harry informed. "The bird didn't die, she is alive. You just didn't see her any more, but she was there. He was protecting her after that," Harry went on.
"Where is the bird then? We haven't seen it around," Ron said.
"I don't know. She came to him at the Shack, but he wouldn't let her follow him inside," Harry replied, looking depressively towards the window and wishing the little bird would appear and tap on it.
"He loved her. He said there were only three females he would ever love," Harry allowed.
"Three. Well … who were they?" Ron asked curiously.
"My mum was one of them and the bird was another," Harry mused. "I … don't know who the third was," Harry informed. During the memory Snape had never given a hint about who it was.
"His own mum," Ron answered. "Every bloke loves his mum, even if she's a crabby old witch or mean to him … or if she nags him all the time … he still loves her anyway," Ron said with a slight grin, thinking of his own mother. "Yeah, it must have been his mum. Even Malfoy loves his mum and look at their lot," he added.
"Yes, but we have to find her," Harry stated almost as if he had not heard Ron's comment.
"Who? Snape's mum?" Ron said hesitatingly.
"I don't think she is alive anymore," Hermione mused. "If his parents were alive, wouldn't they have come to claim his body? I'm sure no matter what kind of parents they were, they would have done that at least. I doubt they would just take it away without telling anyone, plus how would they even know where he died without asking or anyone seeing them?" Hermione went on in a thoughtful manner as if she had been thinking about the situation already for some length of time.
"Maybe the bird died too. It could have been caught in the battle," Ron considered.
"She has to be alive and I have to find her, to protect her for him," Harry insisted forcefully.
"Find … find the bird? How are you going to find one bird in all of Britain? That thing could be anywhere," Ron replied.
"I'll ask Dumbledore. I'll make him tell me," Harry charged angrily.
"Harry, he said he would not answer any more questions. Remember you told us that his portrait said after you viewed the memories, he would no longer answer any questions," Hermione prompted.
"I don't care … it's his fault," Harry snapped.
"Harry, you can't blame Dumbledore, please don't start doing that after everything," Hermione scolded. "Snape did bad things, maybe Dumbledore did things that are questionable too, but you know Dumbledore wasn't -"
"Don't say he didn't want to hurt me, Hermione. He wanted me dead," Harry complained bitterly.
"And Snape hated you, mate. It sort of evens out, doesn't it?" Ron said. "Just because you walked around in his memories, doesn't mean it changes anything. Plus if it wasn't for him, the Dark Lord would have never gone after your parents and you," he added.
Harry stared at Ron. He looked ready to argue but then he gave a depressive sigh.
"He knew … he always knew what he did was wrong. He didn't know how to show it … he never learned to really feel. He was afraid of it," Harry said softly.
"Afraid of what?" Hermione asked nervously.
"Love. He was afraid of it because he feared he would look weak or be hurt by people. He was always hurting … it was like inside of him there was a place where he pushed all his emotions, trying to hide them from everyone," Harry informed.
"Snape is gone, Harry," Hermione announced. "But you have seen the truth about him … so shouldn't we try to make what he did mean something? If he did all that for you, then maybe your job isn't to find some bird … maybe your job is to clear his name like you said you wanted to do. Make sure everyone knows what he did and what he sacrificed," she stated passionately.
"Yes, I think that's what we should do," Ginny agreed.
"I agree too. I think it sounds better than trying to find a bird," Ron added.
Harry nodded curtly but remained for a few moments in thought before he decided to say anything.
"I will clear his name and make sure people know the truth about him," Harry began. He slowly stood as if the statement had given him strength and a purpose. "I want to see someone from the newspaper … any of them or all of them," he insisted.
"Er … newspaper, Harry? Are you like … going to buy a subscription?" Ron asked.
"No, I'm going to give interviews to anyone that wants them," Harry replied and moved off to find his clothing and get dressed.
"Harry … maybe it would be better if -"
"No, Hermione," Harry cut in, hunting around for his shoes. "I've made my choice, this is what I'm going to do," he stated defiantly, glaring over at her as he strode around the room.
"Ron's right," Hermione said casually. "That is just the way he used to glare at us," she added.
Harry frowned but continued in his task. He did not care what they thought about it right now, he was going to do this. He would clear Snape's name and everyone would know the truth about the man and what he did. This was his new mission: it was the only way he felt he could prove that he appreciated what the man had done, sacrificed his life for someone he despised. Seeing as he no longer hated Snape, how could Harry not do the same thing?