The Reveal had its consequences. Let's see, how well our Headmaster is handling it. An avid reader of this fic had wished the goblins to play a bigger role. And they are all in. From now onwards. These are shrewd and calculating magical folks. But against a common foe, all must unite. Things will get AU. The previous generation will not get a chance to complete their education like they could under normal circumstances. Severus and many of his classmates would have to wait for two years after the school is attacked and students are killed by death eaters. They would be invited back to school, once it is made certain had Voldermort's plans of reigning over Magical Britain has been thwarted. They would attend courses that would see them through their newts and owls. And help them get jobs as soon as they step into adulthood. And many would choose to stay away from the castle and instead opt for distant tutoring, a move the Hogwarts teachers and ministry would approve because none of them, could imagine, their beloved school would be attacked in this fashion. This would also be the last time Hogwarts and the Ministry of Magic would agree upon something. Have patience, allow the story to clear your doubts as it progresses at its own pace.
Consider yourself pre-warned. And to all those readers under house arrest because of Convid-19, sending across prayers, courage and warm wishes to keep your spirits high. Once again- MournfulSeverity stands as the source of inspiration. In her very first review of the first chapter of "Love Empowered Empathy- Prologue," she had mentioned the word "Obscurial". That got me researching like a mad hare. Thoughts of "venom" and some sequel of "Spiderman" flooded my mind. And with the emotionally loaded "Mute" and the huge fantastic tale weaving in the backdrop of "Love Empowered Empathy"- Baby's Breath was quietly born in one of my sleepless nights. I hope against hope I shall not disappoint my readers.
Disclaimer: I own nothing, but my thoughts of AU and OC, the rest all belong to J K Rowling. This mind lives in the Harry Potter fanfiction world though this body is still thankfully anchored in the monotonous reality of existence. The stories I write can indirectly influenced by many of the brilliant fanfiction writers on this site. And I humbly bow to such creative genius who give me much needed literary pleasures to see through the toils of mundane life. Lastly, I don't have a beta, so please be merciful. Reviews would encourage this introvert writer to peep out of her literary closet. My very first attempt at writing a Snape and Hermione and Dramione fanfiction ever.
Chapter 23
The Headmaster's office at Hogwarts School of wizardry and witchcraft had its own signature appeal. It was a seat of prestige and decorum that saw the rise of many of the stalwarts of magical folks, whose history was lauded and praised about in golden eternalized magical ink. And this office guarded by its formidable gargoyle was in shambles. It might not contain those million knickknacks that Albus Dumbledore loved to collect. But it had ancient books, texts, scrolls, tomes, periodicals and manuscripts that had the capacity to educate any mediocre portioner to perform magnificent feats in their singular trade. The office now belonged the most formidable wizard of the present time. And this wizard was standing shocked to the very core of his being. And his office had paid the heavy price at the altar of the uncontrolled burst of his magical field.
Bookshelves had been ripped from the walls, portrait frames had crashed on the floor, exotic portions contained in a myriad of jars and decanters had spilled forth after their glass containers were reduced to dust. Loose parchments fluttered in the thick air of the room, like down feathers. Amidst the smoke, the vapors rising from mostly unaided mixing of potions, fluttering paper, the headmaster's ornate desk lay flattened on the floor, next to one wild Severus Snape. His hands were still trembling, the magical surge had unsettled his nerves. Within the fingers of his one hand, he still had that oddly familiar letter held on precariously, the very one Draco Malfoy had handed over- "compliments from Narcissa Malfoy", who had joined this godforsaken meeting and had been shooting him apologetic glances all throughout. He had moved one of his boots and it had touched the case Molly Weasley had handed him over. Again, the same oddly familiar sensation had made him feel unsettled.
Snape had tried to form a word, tried to wet his parched throat, but his voice was choked, his mouth dry. A soft flutter of wings followed by the phoenix familiar, the trustworthy companion of Dumbledore had flown over and sat in front of him. Fawkes had peered at him. Compassion written in its very eyes. And it had started to sing a soft comforting and soothing tune, that could put babies to sleep perhaps. He had started rocking on his feet, with the rhythm of the enticing tune. But was still unable to say a word.
Moved beyond rational explanation, He had stood swaying to and for to the tune, his eyes burning with tears. It had taken a while for the first few broken words to come out of his mouth, "Herm…" "Lil". His hands had automatically made their way up to his chest, and he had clutched onto it. A slap in his buttoned-up waistcoat, then two and then his hand was raining blow after blow. He was beating it, heaving and keening. He had started to sway on his feet. But his magic was still rampantly bouncing around the room.
A man could manage to have only this much of strength. And Severus Snape had been through hell and back, and this was a roller-coaster trip around the whole universe if there was one, in a span of a handful of seconds. His knees could no longer hold on the weight of his severity, his pride in self-discipline and indomitable spirit. He had finally tipped out off balance. Swaying forward, he had landed ungracefully on all his fours. Out of natural reflex, his hands had braced his fall. One hand had touched the case and the other his fallen wand. Still, in shock he had picked up both. In a trance-like state, he had brought them closer…"
His mother had died in a freak accident. And his father too had died a day after Snape had returned from school for the holidays. The muggle police had called it, "Death under mysterious circumstances." The Aurors had arrived too, but without a trace of magic, they too had left, so had Dumbledore, sparing him measured glances now and then. Because one could put trace spells on wands, and those investigating never once considered that a student could teach himself into learning rudimentary wandless magic. One had too. If one was relentlessly made the center of nasty jokes, shoved and dragged around by influential fellow housemates. And Severus had persisted on. Survived through. And he was a lone moaner. Moaning his mother's death. Moaning the absence of his only friend. A dear friend, he had grown fond of. And had in a heated moment hurt beyond measure. "Mudblood", if he could he would curse his very throat, cut off his own tongue, shred of his unbridled anger. And his incapacity to control his emotions. Lily Evans was an angel from heaven, the most compassionate and caring person he had the grace to come in presence of. The only shining star in his miserable little life and her had insulted their bond of friendship with the venomous word.
After curfew, he would slip out of the dungeons, the other consummated snakes, watched him go but kept their vigil. If Snape was to lose points, he would be paying dearly under Lucius Malfoy's unofficial regime. During one of his nightly wandering among those deserted corridors, he had chanced upon the Mirror of Erised. And he would return to sit in front it, till the first rays of the sun. That year would turn out to be the worst in the history of Hogwarts, until the second rising of Voldemort. That very night the school security wards had been breached and death-eaters had swum in. Muggleborn witches and wizards had been killed and students were forced to escape, with teachers managing to hold on to the castle, but barely. For the next two years, the school had to be suspended but the threat was too large to be contained. It was war, breathing over everyone's head.
He had heard whispers in the dungeons, in the dormitories. The Malfoys had plans, ambitious and bigger and much ominous that could change the very Face of Magical Britain. He had heard the name Abraxas. He knew only one, the scrupulous father of Lucius Malfoy. A recent pass out, who had aid, in this castle- the Lestranges, the Blacks, the Flints and the Nott. And they had been planning to prove their faith in the one who had promised them greater power, prestige and had pledged to reinstall their stand in the Magical community. Banish the stealers of Magic, the uncouth Mudbloods and reestablish the Supremacy of Purebloods. The fate of the half-bloods like him hung by a thin wire. After his father's burial, he was accosted by Lucius. How the other knew of his home address, was beyond his comprehension. And in no less sweet laced warning did his senior pass on the Dark Lord's condolences. The crust of the matter was he had been summoned. "Join me, don't consider yourself an orphan, you have several brothers and sisters, I will give you power, I will help you realize your dreams and You shall outshine in the years to come."
But here, sitting every night, in front of this lonesome mirror, he did not see himself garnering applause, getting famous, and shining like a bright star. Instead, he saw himself standing by his mother and by his love of life. Yes, this heart-wrenching distance, had made him realize he truly had loved her all these years. He did hear, the soft click of the latch, but her scent had alerted him, not to attack in retaliation. She was a prefect now, and she had the privilege to walk around the castle in hunt of rule-breaking students.
He had heard those soft footsteps over the stone floor. He had felt her skirt brush against his shoulder. Had she come to berate him? Well, he did earn that, her disdain? If she would choose this moment to crush his heart, he would let her…If he had not been straining his ears to just hear the minute sounds of her breathing in and out, he would have missed that question, "What do you see?"
Severus had gone stiff the moment Lily Evans had come and stood beside him. He had gulped several times, not to sully this moment any further by saying something ridiculous once again. And she had to ask of all things, what was it, he looking at in the mirror? She was clever, she had worked out the true function of the charmed mirror. But she was his Lily. She had not gone and expressed her groundbreaking condolences. She had harped on one thing that had anchored him to the present. That mirror. Never leaving his eyes from the mirror, he had whispered back, his voice coming from the deepest pits of his soul, "Mother."
Lily had been shocked, thrilled, baffled and had felt gravitated at the resonance of Severus's voice. And she had found it hard to not to respond to that deep baritone silk textured voice of her friend. She had to hear it again, or else those fluttering butterflies at the pit of her stomach would drive her crazy. "And?"
Snape couldn't lie, he could manage to hide from the whole world, but Lily knew him through and through. He was cunning, he was ambitious, he had to survive as a Slytherin and he had to go and kneel in front of the Dark Lord, the one who was going to challenge Albus Dumbledore. But Lily…he was in two minds. His mind was hungry for fame, his heart, it was slowly flapping its wings, soaring through the night sky, chanting the word, "Lily" like a prayer. He had told her the truth, "And…you."
He had heard her or rather felt her sit down beside him. Their shoulders rubbed against each other. His legs were taller, but his body could fold into a bundle, a practiced trick through all those years lived under his father mitigated brutality, bullying of the Marauders and his own house turning him into a punch bag just for the fun of it. He had gathered the courage to steal a glance at her, and for the first time in several weeks, he had seen her smile, a smile he had dared to think crossed over her face at his expense. He had to ask something, just in the pretext of making her talk to him. Gathering up some more amount of courage, he had whispered back, "what do you see?"
Lily had been mesmerized with whatever she was seeing in the mirror, and she had replied, her voice laced with fascination, "My Sage, His Lilac…" and a blush had crept up her cheeks, "and their Baby's Breath…" If he had been looking for a fitting forgiveness for the heinous crime, he had committed against her, this was it. Her complete acceptance, her unwavering friendship. And she had succeeded yet again to unlock his dam of emotions threatening for so long to wipe away every ounce of his self-preservation. He had broken down into uncontrollable sobs. And no sooner, he had found her, pulling him towards herself, and hold him within her arms, nestling his head at the crook of her neck. In an apology, he had whispered, again and again," I am sorry, Lily, I…I …am really sorry." She had been hiccupping in her grief, her voice wet with tears and remorse, "Oh! Sev, I should have come earlier, I should not have left you so…". She had turned and had righted his askew hair, she had held his face, cheek stricken with tear tracks and had caressed his jaw, and she had pressed a kiss on his left brow, then the other, followed by one each of his eyelids, then one on each of his moist cheek, then the next had brushed essence of forgiveness and pure love on the tip of his nose.
Severus did try hard, retrieving that precious memory and storing it for later visitation, in a pensive he would have the honor to own years after. The memory of his first kiss. But he could never see who had make the first move. One moment, they had been sitting nose to nose, and the very next, their lips were dancing to the coy music of the finest expressions of newfound love. A tentative pressure here, a lick there, a quick press at one corner, a brave lick, a subtle pull, and bolder grip. Their lips had cuddled and fought for dominance. Their hands had stolen the treasures hidden in the relish of a lover's warm embrace. It was sweet and heady. It was primal and scorching. If expression of love meant burning with pleasure within, with Lily, he would love to die and come back alive for the rest of eternity.
As they had eased out of the series of kisses, they had rested their heads on each other, had brushed their noses against each other, playfully, and had whispered back in unison, "For Baby's Breath". A profound promise, made in front of the mirror of Erised.
Curses had flown and had bounded through the unsuspecting corridors of sleepy Hogwarts. Students had died that night. And the school had been brought down to its knees. Severus had succeeded in smuggling Lily into the Forbidden Forest, where several of the students had managed to flee, while death-eaters had climbed out in hundreds through the bowels of the ancient castle. The last he had seen of her, was by a considerate Remus Lupin. The werewolf, after coming to know, that he had nearly killed Snape, had cornered him in the library after his spat with his friend. And had vowed to him, that he would get them together, no matter what. In those fearful woods, Severus could hear, Lupin's voice, "You will not lose your friend." And she had been safe. In hiding at least for all those times, while the school had been suspended, and Order of Phoenix and its Legion of the Light had surfaced as the force that was determined to curb the malicious advances of the Dark Lord, Voldemort.
A/N: Still around, still doing fine enough. sending prayers to all cross the globe, during these testing times. A bit of the past and a bit of the present, I have tried to weave together both to allow the reader a tiny peep into that magnificent palace of memories locked inside Severus Snape's mind. Drop a word, about what you think about the whole of it.
