Title: Buried Sorrows (3/???????)

Author: Jessica C. Malfoy

E-mail: JessicaCMalfoy@aol.com

Genre: General, Drama

Main Characters: Severus Snape

Spoilers: All Books

Disclaimer: I do not own HP or anything associated, unless I bought it from a store…

Buried Sorrows

Chapter 3

                Severus looked at Dumbledore, again, mainly in shock and disbelief. "You think that maybe one day…I'll be able to…stop things like that from happening?"

                The old headmaster, eyes twinkling in the dark room, gave a small chuckle. "Yes, I do, and you should too. You have what it takes, I see nothing stopping you."

                Severus shook his head, due to the fact that he wanted those walls to fall out of his ears so that he can stomp on them and imprint them on the floor and that he knew that something else was going to happen.

                "Well, I can think of a couple of things that could stop me. Plenty of them, as a matter of fact."

                "Like what, Severus? You have everything you need, except a lab assistant, but that shouldn't be too hard to fine, now? I'm sure that there would be some Ravenclaws that would love to assist you in making and experimenting with new potions."

                "Not being able to invent them, for the 1st matter, and others as well. Plus, having to stop for 'business' reasons, and not knowing how long I'll be gone, or even if I'll be able to come back, also adds to that…list of mine." Severus paused, searching for one more reason that would prove that he was right, not that muggle loving fool.

                "And…who would want to test something that could kill them," Severus added with a smirk, knowing that Dumbledore wouldn't even dare to think of risking student lives on purpose.

                The old headmaster merely shook his head, causing his beard to slightly sway back and forth, like an old clock. "There are always risks involved in everything that a person does in the journey of life."

                Severus mentally slapped himself, now he was going to get a lecture about 'The journey of life', for the millionth time. One that he had heard so many times in his short life span, 36 years, that he knew it by heart, but that didn't mean that he could repeat it with…feeling.

                "No, of course not, Headmaster," Snape replied, reluctantly.

                "I thought so, now, for the real thing that I came here for," at this Severus let out a sigh of relief that caused Dumbledore to pause and send him a 'What?' look, "now, that doesn't mean that one day that I won't come to talk to you about."

                Severus was getting irritated, as if chaos in his own house wasn't bad enough, now he had to deal with this. Why couldn't he get some peace and quiet, for one night?

                "Then, why did you come here?"

                "To check on you." Severus mentally slapped himself again. He could've guessed a better answer then…that. But, Dumbledore continued, either oblivious of Severus' reaction or just ignoring him. Either way, it would have been hard to miss. "I'm sure that you remember the date perfectly well enough. I thought that if you wanted too, you and I could have a little chat."

                "I'm sorry, Headmaster, I don't seem to know what you're talking about," Snape lied through his teeth. He had always been a horrible liar, or to Dumbledore that is. Now to others that were younger then him or he grew up with, that was a different story. But all the same, he rubbed his arm, as if there was an itch on it that just would not disappear.

                "Severus, you know the exact thing I'm talking about."

                "Oh, that thing…"

                "Yes, that one."

                "I'm fine. Perfectly fine. Couldn't be better," again he lied, hoping that Dumbledore wouldn't notice the worry in his voice and that it wasn't as…deep as it usually was.

                "Are you just saying that?"

                Severus tried to look serious, "No, I'm not."

                "So, you're not hiding anything from me?"

                "Nope."

                "Well, I guess we're on the same page then, aren't we?"

                Severus nodded, "I presume so."

                Dumbledore paused for a second and looked over Severus. The young, hopeful, and energetic boy, full of promise, could not be the one standing before him, which seemed older then beyond his years, dull, almost lifeless most of the time.

                "How is Mr. Malfoy, by the way?"

                Severus' dark brown eyes darkened, like they always did when he was upset or annoyed. "Not good, sir, not good at all."

                "Have they at least figured something out?"

                "They believe it's that his immune system is acting up again and that he has some very strong, maybe too strong, memory charms on him, and now, they're effecting him."

                Dumbledore paused in thought, taking all of what he said, and storing it for future references. "Any leads of some sort?"

                "They're not even sure if that's, the memory charms, is the one that is causing the problems. But, they do know that his immune system is weakening by the day."

                "Pity that it had to happen before we all got settled back into the school schedule."

                "Pity it had to have happened at all," Severus said, with a note of finality in his voice, as if he didn't want to talk about this subject any longer.

                "Quite, quite. Now, I do hope that you have already owled Mr. Malfoy about his son, correct?"

                "The medi-wizard insisted on him doing it, himself. He said he had to 'explain' some things, which I find out of the question. There is nothing to explain, other then, how he became a 'professional'.

                "Severus," Dumbledore's tone had a warning attached to it, "he knows what he's talking about. This is what he does for a living, just like you make potions and teach them. Besides, I'm sure that he knows what he's talking about."

                "Unless it's Black magic."

                "Nobody at Hogwarts can perform that type of magic. It just isn't allowed."

                Severus looked back over his shoulder towards the infirmary door, which was growing smaller with every single stride, and then sighed. "I do need to attend to my classes, I dare say, the labs will be utter chaos until I return and straighten things out."

                "No need for that, Severus, Minerva is filling in for you." Dumbledore said, carelessly.

                Severus stopped dead, "Then, I am mistaken, it will be utter chaos then. You remember the last time that she filled in for me? Filch said that it was the worst mess that he ever seen, in all of his years living with us wizards and witches."

                "Well, I don't believe that I want to ask why you haven't volunteered to fill in for a couple of her classes. It wasn't your best subject, but you still had it pretty easy."

                "Not after that last time that I received 'help' from Potter and his gang. No, after that, I was a complete mess."

                "Well, I must say that what they did was not what I had expected for them to do, especially after that long talk I had with them."

                "That was them alright. Always going against rules, no matter what the cost."

                "You did break a couple of rules, if I remember correctly."

                "I was the highest saint, the Metatron, even!"

                "They did get in quite a lot of trouble, but not that much, Severus."

                "No, it was just every other day, not everyday; just every other day." Severus looked down, towards the stairwell that held the quickest route, from his current location, to his dungeons.

                "I do need to get back down there, Headmaster," Severus muttered as he left, and went down the stairwell, and headed towards the dungeon that served as his classroom, hoping that the dungeons would still be standing, by itself, without any substance, that was supposed to be a potion, holding it together.

**********************************************

                Poppy made her way back into the cubicle, and looked at the now smaller group of wizards and witches.

                "Have you sent the owl yet?"

                "No, I thought you were doing it."

                "No, you told me that you were going to do it."

                "I said no such thing, but do hurry and get it down. I don't want to deal with an angry Mr. Malfoy."

                A witch, slender with short blond hair, left the cubicle, muttering about forgetful males and the likes.

                "Any news?"

                "None, Poppy, none what so ever. It's quire frustrating, really. To finally run into something that you can't fix or even diagnosis for that matter."

                "Oh, I do know how that feels. Will they try to bring him around soon?"

                "I don't know. Maybe, if they do, we might see something that could help us find out what the bloody hell he got himself into too."

                "Maybe this is some sort of prank or something of the sort that Severus pulled to see if we can fix something that one of his potions could do to somebody if they weren't careful."

                "That…hooked nose bloke?"

                "The one and only."

                "He doesn't look to be the prank-pulling type, if you ask me."

                "I know, but he has been inventing some potions for quite some time now. Maybe he finally made one that he couldn't fix, himself."

                "Really?"

                "He is quite useful to have around when you need a potion brewed."

                "It's also the ones like him that cause such things like this too happen."

                "Oh, I doubt that really. I don't think that he did this on purpose, that is, if he did it. He is quite fond of Mr. Malfoy, over there."

                "You can't let personal feelings get in the way of making the right decision."

                "True, but sometimes you have to---" Poppy stopped, and watched in awe as the medi-wizard took out his wand and motioned everyone back.

                "Everyone, stand back! Get back! This is an order!" He waved his arms and pulled up his sleeves, as if he was fixing to beat the cause of the illness out in a hand-to-hand fight.

                He took in a deep breath and started waving his wand around, in a figure-8 motion. "With the power in the skies, in the ground, in the stars! And in the mind of the one in the pain, I summon the magic of the old time, of our ancestors to help us in this time of need!" A strange white glow, which looked like snow falling on him from a few feet away, came out of the wand, making it glow, as if it alone held the power to change everything.

                The wizard, to whom Poppy had been talking to, looked over at her. "Ancient magic. Last time, it killed one of our number, when he tried to stop it. Quite nasty, powerful, but still, nasty."

                Poppy weakly nodded in agreement and her gaze returned to the medi-wizard.

                "Soon, the one here in the peril will need your strength! Aid us in correcting all that is wrong!"

                Nothing happened; the wizard paled and laughed nervously.

                He repeated himself, and nothing happened, again. His wand began to violently shake as he made his 3rd attempt, and the witches screamed in fright, while the wizards began to usher, more like shoving, everyone out of the cubicle.

                Poppy was the last one out before a sickening thud sounded against the wall of the cubicle wall, and she covered her head.

                The stench of blood and flesh was now the strongest thing you could smell in the large room.

                "He…He was not worthy, nor was he…pure enough," another wizard told another, as they shakily got back up and closed the cubicle.

                Poppy turned back to the wizard, "What happened?"

                "This is what happens when somebody tries to control ancient magic and they're not meant to take it."

                "But, what exactly happened?"

                "The magic blew him apart, from the inside out."

                Poppy shuddered at the thought of the body parts and all of it's parts laying out for the world to see, on her clean white floor, that was kept so clean and nice all the time.

                "What are you all to do now?"

                "There's not much that we can do, Poppy, I hate to say that, but it's true."

                "Well, what can you do?"

                "Hope that there is somebody that can control it and find him or her in a hurry. For, who knows how much time he has left to live, before he is taken."

                Harry Potter and his all-time friends, Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger walked into the Great Hall, for lunch, just like everybody else in the castle was doing, that is, if they weren't blown apart or attending to other matters.

                There were several things that stood out to every single student in the room. Snape wasn't sending murderous looks to any of the tables, the Gryffindors especially; instead, he was just picking at his food. Dumbledore seemed to pity him, for he was sitting next to him, attempting to make conversation, with no such luck.  In addition to all of that, Malfoy was still missing from the Slytherin table. Everybody else was in their usual spot, Crabbe and Goyle sitting on either side of the vacant spot at the head of the table, eating like they always did.

                Harry pointed this out to both Ron and Hermione, and they both nodded.

                "I know this has to be the greatest day of my entire life! Snape upset and Malfoy gone! Somebody, pinch me to!"

                At this, both Harry and Hermione pinched Ron, causing him to rub his arm, "I didn't mean, literally."

                "Well, Ron something serious could be actually be wrong for all that we know."

                "That'd only make it greater, right, Harry?"

                Harry paused as he sat down, to be joined on either side by both of them, and then replied, "Well, I don't know. It wouldn't be as fun trashing Slytherin in Quidditch if Malfoy wasn't there, so that I could see the look on his face when I catch the snitch."

                "Yeah, that look is absolutely priceless."

                "We could take a picture of it."

                "Harry! I knew I could hear something like that out of Ron, but you," Hermione almost shrieked.

                "Why not me?"

                "And why me?"

                "Oh really, you two. Don't you think that I know you all better then you know yourselves?"

                "I hope you don't," Ron said as he helped himself to some potatoes.

                "Really, you do need to think before you say something. What if Malfoy was standing right behind you when you said that? What do you think would've happened?"

                "Bu the point is, that it didn't happen."

                "Really, you worry too much. At this rate, you're going to look like McGongall before you're 20," Harry added.

                "I am not. I'd be surprised if you two didn't find some way to get yourselves killed by some beast of Hagrid's or some stupid prank that you decided to pull, without my advice."

                "I think that is considered a threat."

                "Think that all you like, but I'm not going to be part of one that will get me killed."

                "Or like you said in our first year," Ron started then said in a girly, high, voice, "'I'm going to go to bed before either of you think of a way to get us killed, or worse, expelled.'"

                Ron grinned at his impersonation, and got a face full of pumpkin juice that he did not ask for as a reply.

                "Well, it's only lunch and you two are already at it," Harry said as he looked over at the dripping Ron and the glaring Hermione.

                "Oh, that so, Mr. Potter," Hermione tried to impersonate Snape, but only ending up sounding like a frog, which sent Ron and Harry gasping for air as they laughed.

                "Well, I think it was a good for a 1st attempt," Hermione said, in her own defense.

                "Well, it wasn't a really good job, that is, if you meant to be serious."

                "Oh, speaking of that Harry," Ron began as he ate some of his liver and pudding, "have you heard from Snuffles lately?"

                "No, I owled him several times, with different owls each time and he hasn't responded yet."

                "Really, you two. He's really busy these days. It's not like he's still living in that cave with nothing else to do."

                "He could be, for…"

                "For what, Ron?"

                "I have no clue, you were supposed to finish that, Hermione."

                Hermione sighed and finished her lunch, occasionally casting a look around the great hall and the other tables.

                Soon, the ever-eventful lunch was over and the afternoon classes were soon to began.

                Lucius Malfoy looked up from his paper, 'The Informative Owl', to see, in the reflection of a mirror, one of the fireplaces shoot up and then something land in front of it.

                "Go and get that," Lucius said to Narcissa as an order. It was probably for her, most likely one of those home-delivery services that delivered robes and such.

                He was right in the middle of one of his favorite columns, which he had missed for a year or so when it disappear.

           I Has the Boy-Who-Lived turned into the Boy-Who-Betrayed-Us?

                As a special correspondent for the Daily Prophet, I heard several nasty rumors like the one mentioned above in several popular local pubs, both filled with witches and wizards alike. Several reckon that he has already joined He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named's ranks, but then again, some insist that he's only waiting till he graduates out of Hogwarts to join him and the Death Eaters, followers of the Dark Lord.

                We might…./I

                Lucius looked up, to see what was blocking his light, and saw Narcissa.

                "What?"

                "A letter. It's for you."

                Lucius paused for a moment, then folded up the paper, and adding a note to himself that he needed to finish reading that column about that Potter brat.

                "Who's it from?"

                "It doesn't have a seal on the back."

                "Burn it then," Lucius said, opening up his newspaper again.

                "It has 'Urgent: Life or Death' stamped on the front."

                "Where is it?"

                Narcissa handed over an envelope, one that looked a bit battered from its journey, for some of the corners looked a bit burnt.

                He immediately noticed how light it felt, nothing like the usual mail he received. But then again, his usual mail came on owls, not through his fancy fireplace.

                He opened it and skimmed it, drawing his eyebrows together as he grew nearer and nearer, he didn't even finish it, before he stood abruptly up.

                "I've got to go and take care of some business. Look after everything while I'm gone."

                "How long do you think you're going to be gone?"

                "When I get back, we'll both know." Lucius answered shortly and motioned for one of the house elves to gather his bag and bring it to him.

                A couple minutes later, 2 house elves carried the heavy bag and didn't even get noticed when Lucius picked up the bag, for they scurried back into hiding.

                Narcissa looked down at the floor, then back up at Lucius. With no signs of aging since his earlier thirties (he and Severus were in the same year) , and with the same boyish nature, though he was loathe to admit it. Occasionally, he did act like the wild party animal that he was after he graduated Hogwarts. Not that she would know. Of course not. He was 5 years older then her.

                She faintly recalled him during her 1st and 2nd years at Hogwarts, and she doubted that he was very happy knowing that he would wed a girl that was quite a bit younger then him, or at least, when you were 22, 5 years seemed a bit more then average. Their parents had set it up, for Narcissa's family, Moon, was another old wizarding family that only had 1 child, her, at the time of the arranged marriage and they wanted to make sure that she would wed and produce an heir.

                Her father did have a son, Thomas, and he did have an heir as well. Well, that is, if you counted a girl as an heir to land and such, not that there was much of the Moon estate left for her to inherit.

                Lucius had walked out of the dining hall, and turned into the corridor that led to the 'entrance' pad. (Several generations back, the Malfoys had been very paranoid and put anit-appariting charms all over the estate) Cursing to himself about letting a soft git like Severus watch out for his only heir, or the only one that he knew about.

                He led himself into the newly attached room and disapparated, to Hogsmeade.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

                He arrived outside the Leaky Cauldron, and went inside.

                "Good afternoon, sir."

                "I'm checking in for…the next couple of nights. If there is a change of plans, I'll send you an owl and I want my baggage, immediately."

                "Yes, sir." The clerk at the desk said and looked through a couple of drawers. "Your usual room, sir?"

                "Yes," Lucius said irritably, "my usual room."

                "I'm sorry sir, but I don't have anything labeled as your usual. What is your name?"

                "Lucius Malfoy."

                The clerk paused for a second, obviously wondering why she didn't recognize him and then shrugged. "Of course, Mr. Malfoy," she said, promptly, and handed over the keys to his room, Suite 7S. And motioned for a house elf to carry it out.

                Outside, the sun was rapidly setting, and darkness was covering everything in sight. A cool gust of wind, mainly for it was coming out of the north, started to blow, causing lanterns that were outside to flicker with it. He had always preferred the coolness of the night. Maybe it was due to the fact that as a boy, he enjoyed playing in the dungeons, and then lived in the dungeons all during his years at Hogwarts, as a Slytherin.

                He got inside a carriage and rode to Hogwarts, where he was going to have to change a couple of things and might have to dispose of a couple things as well.