Bumblebee Blood

Chapter 20

We find ourselves in such strange times; I hope that, even to just one person, my stories might bring comfort, escape, or peace.

Please forgive any typos, being an online teacher at the moment means far too much screen time, and lapses in concentration.

This remains one of my absolute favourites to write.

Much love ~ SS19

If Surprise was a person, Severus imagined he or she would look exactly like the expression that registered on Albus' face for a fraction of a second, before it was hurriedly chased away and replaced with genial grace and artificial amicability. "How very amusing, Professor - but only my students will possess such a title."

Severus watched Potter and Draco exchange a glance charged with some shared incredulity that still could not totally assuage the hatred that existed between them. Draco looked to Severus, and Severus manipulated his lips into a small smirk, "A joke, Draco. Now, you have lessons to attend that do not involve provoking the sensitive Mr. Potter."

Potter seemed ripe to interject but Albus held up a hand, though his gaze still had not left his Potions Master, "Both boys have classes; Professor, a word, if you would not mind, in my office."

Severus considered refusing. This was his timetabled morning off, hence why he had acquiesced more easily to staying with the Dark Lord overnight. He had students' essays to scrawl over and correct, and brewing he wanted to do. But something in Albus' gaze, something hard and sharp, convinced him that it probably was not prudent. He followed the Headmaster back to his office, trying not to feel like a student in trouble, though Albus was perfectly cheerful, smiling at those who crossed their paths and greeting staff with a bright, "Good morning." Severus for his part stayed impassive.

When inside the Headmaster's office, Albus moved toward the large window and stared out of it, back to Severus. Severus pushed the door closed and lingered, smoothing the cuffs of his robe before he realised it made him look nervous and he willed his fingers to still. The portrait of Phineas was regarding him from across the small room, with a very strange expression that Severus could not place. He wondered if he should break the silence. Was that what Albus was waiting for? He surveyed the Headmaster's form; hands clasped behind him, shoulders straight, but with visible tension. He felt like he should break the silence, so he took a step forward, resting his curled fist on the corner of the desk, "Headmaster…"

He seemed to receive no response.

For someone who enjoyed silence's company, he did not like how he felt uneasy, the longer the moments stretched before them. "I…I did not think you would worry." At least that was an honest admission, it genuinely had not crossed his mind that Albus would consider sending people to him because he had not returned swiftly enough. Had that always been a consideration, or was it just since recent revelations? "I thought you would…know…I was fine."

Still nothing.

"Will you say something? Please?" His voice gained a slight tremble and he wished it was otherwise. Albus always talked. That was one of his characteristics; Albus could fill a room with talk if he so chose, and he always talked to Severus, even when Severus needed it the absolute least in his life. He was a constant. "Headmaster."

"Do I worry, needlessly, Severus?"

"I don't understand."

"When you go to Tom, I worry. Is that necessary?" The tone was very neutral and as a result Severus struggled to read it. "I am still not sure what you mean. I…I do not want you to worry about me." He moved a little closer, "You need to worry about the Order, and the war, not me. If something happens, it happens. I do my best to avoid it…" His words drifted as he still did not know if they were what the Headmaster wanted to hear. "Albus. I do not know what you want from me."

"Tom knows about you?"

"No, he knows about the child."

"Did you tell him?" The question was still posed to the window, but Severus flinched anyway. Anger spiked through him, "Of course not!" He took a steadying breath, remembering not to lose his head to fury, "No. He found the letters."

The slightest turn from his companion, toward him, "How?"

"They were in my robe, because I was keeping them close - he saw them - read one and put the information together. He asked me to bring him the child. Since then I have stalled him, and have not provided any information. He does not know the child is alive, nor that he is a deceptive follower."

The angle that they were both standing at now meant he could see when Albus raised a hand, one finger extended up, "How did he see them in your robes?"

Of all the things he expected the Headmaster to fixate on, it had not been that. "I do not recall; possibly he heard them rustle, I cannot remember."

Albus faced him properly now, "Cannot remember, or do not wish to tell me?"

"Headmaster! I attend meetings with the Dark Lord and spend considerable time observing his every move so I can then recount details of importance to you, such as mood and potential plotting - as a result, I do not focus on myself beyond mere survival!" Did Albus…suspect him? "I did not want to tell you he had found the letters as I knew it would provoke you into action which may be ineffective for the war efforts, and also there was nothing to report. He has nothing more, just knowledge, and even then…he does not understand yet the potential of that knowledge." He was trying, with more desperation than he wanted to admit, to read Albus' expression or interpret any of the emotions, but there was nothing to assess. "I am sorry if I have offended you."

"How close are you, Severus? To Tom?"

"You know I am his closest advisor - that is why you have me in this position - Headmaster, you set this up. You want me to spy on him and bring you information. You need me to be close to him, but you also know it does not mean anything to me - I do what I do because you ask it of me, not because I have misguided loyalties toward him, or any reason to doubt my commitment to you." His anger was quickly dissipating and leaving hurt in its wake, and he despised that even more because hurt could leave to pity, and hurt suggested he was emotionally attached, "Albus…I do not understand your thinking, please could you explain further."

Albus interlinked his fingers together in front of him, still very calm, "Talk me through yesterday."

"There is nothing to report; the Dark Lord has nothing new plotted as far as I am aware, he is simply pondering."

"That's not what I instructed. I want you to tell me what happened yesterday, after Lord Voldemort summoned you."

Severus was now under the very distinct impression he was being interrogated, "We talked, he asked me to stay for dinner because he enjoys those engagements and discussing strategies, and I left early this morning. His mansion is substantial and to have refused his invitation would have suggested something was awry, and I tend to avoid his suspicions. I apologise for being later back than planned, it was unintentional but I have an image I must maintain." Since when did he have to defend himself to Albus Dumbledore? "You…you do trust me, Headmaster?"

"I nearly sent people."

"You said. You nearly sent people."

One finger held up, "I nearly sent people to rescue you; what would they have found, had I risked their lives? You, dining with Lord Voldemort?"

Severus took a very long moment to compose himself before responding, "I am not responsible for the choices you make, Albus. If you choose strategic suicide and send Order members to rescue a spy with no evidence of hurt or injury, in the process ensuring his treachery is revealed, that is your decision alone and reaps its own consequences. You know that when I am summoned, there is no way for me to communicate with you. You have to trust me." He hesitated, "Except…I feel you do not."

"Treachery? Your treachery would be revealed?"

"Yes, my treachery would be revealed, and the Dark Lord will kill me, and probably not quickly. Do not twist my words. I do what I do, for you. I am loyal to you."

"Tom thinks the same. He thinks you are loyal to him."

"That…that is my very purpose! This is what you ask me to do!" He was beyond horrified when he felt a hot flash behind his eyes, "This is what…this is what you want…"

"No, Severus. I have said that I would like nothing more than to not send you to him, but you have been very frantic to convince me otherwise. I presumed it was for the good of the Order and the war, but I wonder if you have become so good at this game that both Tom and I are blind to your true motives."

"I do return for the good of the Order! You have only stopped wishing me to go to the Dark Lord since you found out we share a bloodline, and I will not allow you to let your sentimental twaddle to obscure your strategic perspective and remove your spy from the war. I spy, that is what I do - and I spy for you, on him. It has never been the other way around. It never will be! You know that!" How he hated the only man who could make him emotional so easily - his veins pounded with fury but somewhere deeper still in his chest there was uncertainty, the need to please, the desperate desire to be validated, "You do…you do know that?"

"I know that you tell Tom you are ever the loyal servant…?"

"You know I belong to you, Headmaster. The Dark Lord means nothing to me!" His forehead creased, "I tell him empty words, what he wants to hear. You have no reason to doubt me, and I resent the implication that I have given you any reason to do so!"

"You gave him knowledge which makes me very vulnerable, Severus."

"In my defence, Headmaster." He forced his voice cold, sharp, "You told me that information, maybe you should have chosen a different confidante."

"Maybe." Equal coldness.

Silence returned.

Severus looked away from those blue eyes, "If you have nothing else to add?"

"I am not permitting you to return to him. You have too much value. Sentimental twaddle or otherwise. We will find other sources of information."

He swallowed around the lump forming in his throat and inhaled through his nose, "Headmaster. Please do not take this from me." This was his purpose, his way of helping, his contribution to a war he had been involved in from the very start. He glanced back to Albus, "Please."

"You would willingly walk back into danger's way? I do not understand why, Severus."

"I have told you before, this is my opportunity to help in the war, it is something I am good at! Who I am makes no difference; I am still Severus Snape, nothing has changed; I am the only person you have who can do this!"

"Because Tom trusts you."

"Yes! Because the Dark Lord trusts me! And - " He spoke before he had fully formulated the thought, and as such, it was a betrayal of his deepest and innermost desires, "- because he trusts me, he gives me information, and with that information, I can protect you!" Internally and emotionally wounded, he lashed out with his words as his defence, "Now, I am unsure as to whether this is just a sleepless night talking or whether you genuinely believe I would betray you, but everything I do, in this blasted war, is to try and ensure you survive because the world needs you, Headmaster - and you will not stop me doing my duty to try to protect you. Bloodline or no bloodline, sentimental twaddle or not. You will not stop me." This time it was him who turned his back, folded his arms, and sought his inhaling and exhaling to calm himself down. He had revealed his own weakness, albeit to the person he thought would never exploit it. Merlin, Severus. What madness could make you love Albus Dumbledore? He started to count the seconds as he inhaled, waiting for some more censure from Albus, or some further interrogation, or some comfort - never had a conversation been like this for him, with Albus, his mentor was usually the one to do the explaining. He held his inhale and continued to count, irritated at his own lack of composure.

"This is dangerous motivation, Severus," Albus countered, though his syllables had gained the softest edge, "If Tom were ever to know."

"If the Dark Lord knew, I would die knowing I had given you everything." He breathed out, "Everything." He glared at the portrait of Phineas, who looked rather disappointed and Severus presumed it was in him. This was not very Slytherin of him.

"What if Tom discovers who the child is? Then what? What will he do with you?" The voice was softer still, and slightly hesitant and stalling, as if Albus was divulging a fear that had kept him awake - and with damning realisation, Severus understood that it most likely had. He tried to find his reasonable self. "Then the Dark Lord will use that knowledge to unbalance you, Headmaster. You must ensure that is not the case, or all I have done is for nothing."

"Never nothing." Albus murmured. Severus observed him. "Where did that come from, Albus? All of that? Is it something I have done?"

Albus held out a hand, palm upward. "No. All me, I am afraid. A sleepless night, a pathetic old man, misguided illusions. Looking for justification. I apologise." He paused, "I…I find it hard to believe sometimes that would demonstrate such bravery just for me, or at least, your own misguided illusion of me."

Severus shook his head, "It is not just for you, Headmaster. It is for me too." He reached out his hand to rest his fingers in the Headmaster's, and the moment they touched -

He flinched.

Pain shot up his left arm and beneath his sleeve he knew the Dark Mark twisted and scowled.

Albus gripped his fingers before Severus could withdraw them, "So soon?"

Severus did not answer immediately, gripped with a sudden fear, "This is unlike him, he must have news - or wish to move again. I must go."

"Yes, you must." Albus did not let go immediately. "Severus…even after…my…performance…of course I believe you."

"Believe in me, Albus."

"Return to me, Severus."

It was not Riddle Mansion this time. It appeared to be some outdoor clearing in a forest that had no particular significance nor memories for Severus as he took his place in the circle of hooded figures, forcing his mind to be blank. He seemed to be the last to arrive which did concern him slightly, he was never late - but it suggested there may have been discussion before his arrival. Cautiously, he distracted himself with instructions on how to brew his latest experimental concoction. He needed to be completely calm, completely composed, and suggest nothing of his and Albus' previous conversation.

"Good evening, all." The Dark Lord intoned, without expecting any response. Severus focused on the spot just before the Dark Lord's feet.

An improved euphoria elixir.

"I have news to impart." The Dark Lord continued.

Instead of peppermint sprig, what would the impacts be if spearmint was used instead?

"Severus."

He raised his head. Something had changed. He was not sure if he had missed the cue for every other member of the circle to take a step back. "My Lord?" Calm, Severus, calm. Spearmint boils more slowly.

"There is someone here who knows you."

Confused, Severus narrowed his eyes, and lost his train of potions thought. Not able to offer anything else, he simply repeated his early question.

"Here, I'll show you. I am so pleased to meet someone so instrumental in your life. So…influential…" The Dark Lord raised a hand, and Severus heard the sound of struggles and quiet pleading before a woman was thrown before Lord Voldemort. Her hair was golden and she was clearly very afraid, but she was also utterly unfamiliar to him. "My Lord, I do not know this woman."

"Is that so?"

Spearmint might react less favourably with the porcupine quills. "Yes, my Lord."

"Think, hard, Severus. You have never seen her before? In your life?" The Dark Lord sounded perfectly conversational, his tone almost light, and Severus found that to be rather worrying. "My Lord, I assure you, I have never met her. Ever." What was the game here? Who was the woman?

"See, Severus, this woman - she tells me, quite vehemently, though admittedly under the Cruciatus curse, that she took a baby from Albus Dumbledore's arms - "

Spearmint…spearmint…properties of spearmint, Severus, properties of…

"- and passed the baby to -" He flicked his fingers at the cowering woman, "Witch. Who did you say it was?"

She stared up at the Dark Lord, pale and covered in sweat and her eyes wide.

"Please. Tell us. Everyone is very keen to hear. Severus, I am sure is…dying…to know." Voldemort paused, and when he spoke once more, the danger in his voice could have sliced his prisoner's flesh. "Who?"

"…I…I…"

Voldemort raised his wand.

"Please no! Eileen Snape - I gave him! Please! - I gave him to Eileen Snape!"

You'll be pleased, perhaps, to know the next chapter is already written…. Thank you for reading. ~SS19