The Price You Pay
Part One -- The Readiness Is All
In the final days of Lord Voldemort's rise, a younger Severus Snape is about to learn that in the dangerous game he's playing, betrayal can come from anywhere.
A/N: Okay, I posted the intro to this story, my first-ever fan fiction, at the end of last summer and got some very nice comments (thank you so much to everyone who reviewed this the first time!) and had every intention of finishing it. Then I went off on self-imposed computer exile while I was working day and night on a presidential campaign, and now that the election is over (err, umm, kinda....) I DO plan on picking it back up again! This is the first part, it will probably end up about 3 parts long. The Price You Pay takes place post-GoF, the beginning of summer after Harry's fourth year, but flashes back to Voldemort's first rise.
The first part is really...slow, I guess...I don't like it very much at all. I'll continue if I get good reviews, though, since the remaining parts will actually have some action instead of just background info and random history lessons....
NOTE: Of course, Hogwarts and the characters and concepts in Harry Potter belong to the fabulous J.K. Rowling, and of course I make no claim to own them. If I owned them, Snape would have been given a background and a story long before Book #4, but that's irrelevant....
Part One -- "The Readiness Is All"
Severus Snape stood in the doorway of his dungeon office at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, gazing around contemplatively at the stone walls. He marveled at the fact that this room had somehow, miraculously, come to feel like...well, not home really. But the closest thing to it he'd had in thirteen years. At that time, he would have scoffed at the idea that he would feel any remorse at leaving his teaching post at Hogwarts...and it was with the wonder that always comes with self-discovery that he realized it now. Now, when he knew he might never see any of it again.
"This is crazy," he thought for the thousandth time since he had agreed to go on this insane mission for Albus Dumbledore. "I'm going to get myself killed," he muttered out loud. "Am I so far gone that I truly think Lord Voldemort won't figure out I'm not really on his side?"
"No," he thought. "Of course he'll see through this." After tonight he was a walking dead man, as far as Snape was concerned. He closed his eyes for a moment, feeling again the horror that had gripped him ever since the Dark Mark had started to reappear on his arm. "It's all happening again," Snape whispered.
Almost, he went to Dumbledore and backed out, told the Headmaster it was just too dangerous, he couldn't afford to pay such a heavy price as he already had once in his life. Almost. But an overwhelming desire for vengeance--revenge against the Dark Lord for what had happened all those years ago--was too overpowering. Remembering that night--the most terrible night in his memory--Severus Snape knew what he had to do. Even if it cost him his life, which it surely would in the end.
He swallowed, his grim, determined face masking the chill, sick feeling of horror he still felt every time he thought about that day.
* * * * * * * * * * * *
"Avada Kedavra!"
The word echoed ominously through the small clearing in the woods where the two opponents stood facing each other, wands drawn. A flash of brilliant green light filled the air, and slowly one of the figures crumpled to the ground.
Severus Snape, twenty years old, stood staring at the body of the older wizard that lay in front of him, his whole body trembling. Severus's wand hand was still pointing at the prone figure of the old Auror where he lay at his feet, and the knuckles clutching the wand were white with tension. The green afterglow from his spell was just beginning to fade from his eyes.
I just killed someone, a little voice was saying incredulously in the back of his mind. What have I gotten myself into? There was something brave and courageous--honorable, even--in the felled body of the Auror, even in death. It was at that moment, staring at the crumpled form in front of him, that Severus Snape first began to regret his commitment to Voldemort and the Death Eaters. Little did he know that it was just the beginning of the disillusionment and loss he would suffer before it was all over.
Severus Snape had just graduated from Hogwarts, an intelligent young wizard of only seventeen, when he first started attending Death Eater meetings with his old Slytherin housemates. He wouldn't call them friends, not really--he was too much of a loner for that--but they were entertaining and exciting, and they filled the void that his graduation from Hogwarts had left.
Like so many other young people of the last three hundred years and more, Severus was attracted to the political movement of his time that seemed the most revolutionary, the most anti-establishment. That this just happened to be Lord Voldemort's Death Eaters was a stroke of bad luck that the young Snape would unwittingly pay for all his life.
But at the time, all he knew was that the world was changing, fast. There was an excitement in the air of new ideas and shifting ideals--and Severus Snape wanted to be a part of it, on top of the new order that he believed was sure to rise from the ashes of the old.
And so he became a Death Eater with his housemates. Except that Snape was smarter than most of them, and therefore more useful to the Dark Lord. As the years passed and Voldemort continued to rise in power, Snape's quick mind and natural wizarding ability--especially at the art of Potions--quickly made him one of the dark wizard's youngest and closest advisors.
Severus's parents were tolerant of their son's allegiances, although he was the only Snape so closely allied with the Dark Lord. Severus's young sister, Robin, was still at Hogwarts, and his brother Charles, two years older than Severus, was employed by Gringotts Bank. Too self-centered to ever be anything but apathetic when it came to politics, Snape thought privately. Their father, Lucien, was the owner of the largest Potions supplier in the world. He was neither a supporter of the Ministry nor of Voldemort, but rather (in his own words) a supporter of profit, willing to sell his allegiance to the highest bidder. Lucien sold Potions supplies to the two sides equally, earning the money and contempt of both.
On that particular day, almost three years after his graduation, Severus took the final step in declaring his loyalty to Voldemort, and at the same time discovered the first seed of doubt in his own mind. He took a human life, and for the first time experienced true remorse.
That day was significant for another reason as well. It was that day, when he came home to the house he still shared with his parents and sister, that he first met Erin. Erin Davies, her name was, and she was over at their house for dinner. She was beautiful, with long auburn hair that reached her shoulders and framed her angelic face. Her deep brown eyes twinkled seductively when she laughed, which was often. By the end of the night, Severus was convinced he was in love with her.
There was only one problem: She was his brother Charles's girlfriend.
And so, in that one fateful day, the stage was set for the tragic events that were soon to tear the Snape family apart forever and turn Severus Snape, later to become the hated, reclusive Potions master at Hogwarts School, into an almost unrecognizable shell of the young man he once was.
* * * * * * * * * * * *
After a final glance at his office, Professor Snape shut the door and locked it with a tap of his wand. He set out for Dumbledore's office, but as he passed the dungeon entrance to Slytherin House his walk slowed to a halt. Not knowing exactly what he was doing, he murmured the password to the surprised-looking statue that guarded the entrance, and the door swung open to admit him.
Snape walked into the empty House common room and looked around. Now, standing there, he felt completely like an idiot. What had he expected? All the students had left yesterday, off for summer vacations and time with family.
And he stopped the thought there, unwilling to follow it any further.
"Alright, Snape," he muttered irritably. "Enough of the pathetic farewell tour. Just go tell Dumbledore you're going and leave already. When you end up back here next fall opening the place up again you're gonna feel pretty stupid for this little melodrama."
But before he left there was one more thing he had to do, just to remind himself what he was getting into before he sealed his fate. And for some reason he couldn't figure out, or maybe just didn't want to admit to himself, he had to do it here.
Shaking his head at himself, Snape sat down in the armchair that had once been his favorite. Reaching into his robes, he took out the letter he carried with him always. A reminder, even though he prayed every day to forget. The small piece of parchment looked like it had seen better days. It bore the creases of a decade of folding and unfolding, and there was a deep red stain in one of the corners. He didn't have to read it at all--he knew the words by heart now--but Snape unfolded it anyway.
* * * * * * * * * * * *
"Erin and I have an announcement to make."
Severus's head snapped up at his brother's voice across the dinner table. He looked over at where Charles sat, holding Erin's hand on top of the table. She was just as beautiful as ever, and Severus felt his stomach twist in jealousy. It had been a year since the day Charles had first brought Erin to dinner at his parents' house, and a year since Severus had fallen in love with her. A year, he thought dully.
It had also been a year since Snape had first killed another, first used the last and worst of the Unforgivable Curses that were Voldemort's trademark. He half-laughed silently, bitterly, at the memory of that old Auror laying in the woods. He still vividly remembered the way he'd felt, staring at the old wizard's body. Had he only known at the time how much worse it would get, the things he would see in the year to come as one of Voldemort's inner circle...."You would have done what, Severus?" he asked himself sarcastically. "Gotten out?" He'd tried that, and all he'd accomplished was to get himself further entangled in the snare.
Forcibly, he pulled his attention back to the present, where everyone at the table was focused on Charles and Erin. The two young wizards smiled at each other with a shared, private look that made Severus feel vaguely nauseous. Then Charles smiled at his father across the table. "We've decided to get married in the fall."
Very slowly, Severus set down the glass he was holding. Well, that decided it. Now he was going to be sick. His parents were solemnly congratulating the couple, and Robin had jumped to her feet with a happy shriek to hug her brother. Severus pushed his plate away and stood up, and instantly the conversation at the table stopped in surprise. Snape saw his parents looking at him questioningly, but his eyes were locked with Charles's. His brother's eyes held not a question, but a look of suspicion. Finally Severus managed to find words, a sort of strangled whisper.
"Congratulations."
There was a heavy silence around the table, broken again by Severus. "I have to go, I have an appointment," he mumbled, turning on his heels and getting out of the house as fast as he possibly could.
He hadn't been lying, he did have something he had to do. He found his broom, apparated as close to Hogwarts as you could, and walked the rest of the way in, glancing around him nervously as always. It was early summer and the students had all gone home, but the staff was still there. Severus ducked through the halls hoping to avoid everyone, both because he wasn't in the mood for polite conversation and because he had learned never to trust anyone he didn't know well. He found Dumbledore in his office, frowning in concentration at a scroll of paper on his desk. The old wizard rose when Snape opened the door with a quick knock.
"Headmaster," Snape said, bowing his head slightly in deference as he stepped into the office.
"Really, Severus, you're not a student anymore," Dumbledore pointed out with his usual smile. "I do have a name."
Dumbledore was smiling, but the twinkling eyes that Snape remembered from his days as a Slytherin were missing. Instead, the headmaster gazed at Snape with the quiet look of disappointment that Severus knew he would never get used to. "I take it you can't stay long," Dumbledore asked.
Snape shook his head, and the headmaster gestured him to a seat across from his desk before sitting down himself. The aged wizard regarded Snape for a long moment, his fingers templed under his chin. "Well?" he asked finally.
Snape sighed, looking down at his hands to avoid the look in his old headmaster's eyes. It seemed like every time he came here, Dumbledore looked more worried. He knew the news he brought tonight wouldn't help. "James Potter," he said quietly. His voice was completely devoid of emotion. Then he grimaced and added, "And Lily and their son."
Dumbledore's head snapped up in surprise, and he gazed at him with a contemplative look Snape couldn't read. "Are you sure?"
Severus nodded wordlessly.
There was a long moment of silence before Dumbledore asked, "Is that all?"
"No." Another heavy silence, and then, "There's a traitor on your side, someone who--"
"Our side now, Severus," Dumbledore pointed out firmly.
Severus had enough to grace to accept the rebuke with a nod, but he pressed on. "Tell Potter to run. Tell no one where he's going, just take his wife and kid and run until this is all over."
Dumbledore had a very far-away look in his eyes, and he nodded slowly. "A Secret-Keeper, maybe..." he said thoughtfully, talking to himself.
"Don't tell me!" Severus snapped abruptly, angrily.
The headmaster looked up at him, that same disappointment in his eyes, and all of a sudden he sounded very much like a professor again. "To be honest, Master Snape, I hadn't planned on it. Now, who is this traitor?"
"I don't know," Severus replied, and he would've been blind to miss the sharp suspicion in Dumbledore's return expression. "Someone close to Potter, that's all I can tell you," Snape mumbled, feeling like he had just been stabbed through the heart at his headmaster's clear look of distrust. It was becoming a familiar feeling, in these last few hours, he thought bitterly.
Then he stood up. "I have to go, I've been here too long already," he explained. Dumbledore nodded and extended his hand, which Snape quickly shook.
"If you find out..." Dumbledore started.
"Of course." With that, Snape turned and left the room, closing the door behind him. Walking swiftly, he made it to the edge of the Forbidden Forest before stopping. There, the nearest point where Apparating was possible, he stopped and leaned heavily against a large tree, squeezing his eyes shut and trying to block out another horrible session in Dumbledore's office.
It had been a month since he'd first gone to Dumbledore in desperation. He would never be able answer what exactly had finally decided him, but at some point it had become obvious to Snape that he had to get out of the Death Eaters. Maybe it had been the look on the face of his old Ravenclaw herbology partner seconds before being reduced to nothing but a red splatter on the wall. Or maybe it had just been a realization that Voldemort was going too far.
Snape remembered reading in a Muggle history book about Field Marshal Erwin Rommel, Adolf Hitler's favorite general in the Second World War, who had fought faithfully for years not because the great "cause" of Lebensraum meant anything to him but because he was a soldier, plain and simple, and his country was at war. As the war progressed and it had become painfully clear that Hitler's plan was beyond evil, the "Desert Fox" had given his tacit agreement to a plot to arrest or assassinate the Fuhrer.
Maybe that was why Snape had gone to Dumbledore. Because he had learned that he had so much in common with one of the Muggles Voldemort despised so greatly. Because he knew exactly the feeling Rommel must have known, torn between the life he had always known and the morals he was only recently discovering he had....Snape tried not to think about Rommel's death, the condolence letter from Hitler to his family typed in Berlin a few hours before the esteemed general had taken his own life....
For whatever reason, Severus had gone to Dumbledore with the complete faith in him that every Hogwarts student had, sure that the headmaster could solve any problem. He could still remember Dumbledore's reply after Severus had told his story:
"Severus, I think you know as well as I do that you can never get out now."
"But--" he had protested, even though he knew--like he always had--that Dumbledore was right.
And Dumbledore had offered him a proposal. If he was willing to take the risk, Dumbledore would feed him just enough information to solidify his position with Voldemort as a valid spy for the Death Eaters. In return, he would play the role of double agent, feeding information to Dumbledore and the resistance as well. Severus had accepted, and thought things would improve at last.
He had been wrong. For a month he'd been walking the very fine line between life and death, and he had quickly learned that Voldemort expected much of his spies. It had only taken a few uses of the Cruciatus curse for Severus to learn that the information Dumbledore provided him wasn't enough to keep the Dark Lord happy. He shuddered, remembering the awful feeling of every pain nerve in his body firing at once until he couldn't move, couldn't breathe, wouldn't even be sure he was still alive at all if not for the pain that made it so clear he still was....
So Snape had spent the last month playing both ends against the middle, giving neither side as much as they wanted and both sides more than their enemies guessed. But even the pain of the Cruciatus curse wasn't as bad as the meetings with Dumbledore. The look of disappointment that Dumbledore wore whenever he looked at him was more than Snape could bear. He couldn't blame the headmaster, of course, especially since every day he betrayed his trust further. But he didn't know how else to stay alive.
He was trapped, caught in some horrible hell of his own making with no end in sight.
Jerking himself away from the tree with an abrupt movement, Snape shook his head and apparated out.
When he arrived home, he found the dining room empty. Good. Hopefully Charles and Erin had gone home. Snape wandered into the kitchen to wash his hands, something he found himself doing more and more of lately. He felt like Lady Macbeth. The blood never seemed to come out, no matter what he did.
Standing at the sink, he was startled to feel a hand on his back and to hear a soft voice ask, "Are you okay, Severus?"
He whipped around. It was Erin.
__________
A/N: Is Snape starting to crack? Not yet. But he will. Things always get worse before they get better in stories, after all.
Reviews are HUGELY appreciated, since this is my first dabble into the world of fan fiction and I'm really insecure about how this story's turning out! :-) Praise is wonderful, constructive criticism is just as welcome, and even semi-gentle flames will be tolerated with a smile, though maybe a slightly put-upon smile....
Thanks again to everyone who reviewed the intro to this when I posted it FOREVER ago!