Note: Snape has a heart. SHOCK!!
She Killed His Past With Her Kiss
What the hell was going on? I had been here for a few minutes, bandaging up my hand which I had burned while concocting a truth serum when Arthur Weasley and some other woman from the Ministry came in. They were carrying a stretcher with a very bloody creature on it. Upon closer inspection it turned out to be none other than Draco Malfoy.
To say that I was shocked would be a gross understatement. One look at Draco told me what had befallen him. His father had undoubtedly found out about him and Harry Potter and was punishing him for shaming the family name. That was all Lucius was ever about, his bloody fucking familial pride. How he found out, I did not then know. At Hogwarts it was not a secret, we all had seen Harry taking care of Draco. I was keeping them paired up in Potions as when they worked together they worked better even than Hermione Granger. But how it had gotten out...
Poppy was talking to Arthur and the Ministry worker as she was cleaning Draco up. I seemed to have been frozen to my spot against the wall, watching them. I was suddenly overtaken by memories of my time with the Death Eaters. Lucius had been in charge of the Muggle tortures and it would seem that he had taken his expertise to a new level with his own son. Never in all the time I had spent with the Death Eaters had I ever seen anything so brutal in my life. After all the blood was cleared away Draco's wounds were laid bare. The gashes across his chest and stomach had cut clear through to the bone. He was black and blue.
It was when they turned him over that I nearly lost it. His back was as bad as his front, but there was a steady trickle of blood running from between his legs. I had to run to the toilet before I made a mess all over the floor. The last thing Poppy needed was for me to lose my lunch all over her infirmary. I sat in the bathroom for a long time afterwards, only leaving when Poppy asked me to sit with Draco.
Sitting next to the sleeping form of Draco Malfoy, I thought of all the things I had done. How I ever went to Voldemort's side, I will never know. I don't know that I could ever really stomach the atrocities they inflicted upon the innocent. This was why I was rarely around when it came time to fight a battle. I left for Hogwarts as soon as I could. It took courage to leave Voldemort's army. Those who left did not generally live to see the following morning, let alone almost another twenty years. All my sins were seeping to the forefront of my mind. Things I had not thought about in years were flashing in my brain like some grotesque picture show.
Had my life played out just the slightest bit differently, that could be my own son I was sitting next to. That could be my own son who had been tortured and abused. The thought scared me. I had done horrid things to other people's children and here I was imagining the tables being turned. I have never felt like such a worthless human being in all my life as I did sitting next to the broken form of Draco Malfoy. The people who had done the same thing countless times over many years were once my friends. They were once my family. I was once one of them. I was a part of an organization that ritualistically raped and murdered children.
Dumbledore forgave me. Why, and even more significantly was how, he did it, I will never know. I was, twenty years after the fact, more sorry than I had ever been before. For thirteen years I had put my past in the back of my mind. Two years ago I could scarce believe that Voldemort had indeed returned. I was afraid like never before. But Harry Potter had escaped him. Harry Potter had given me a shred of hope. No one had ever walked away from face to face contact with Lord Voldemort and Harry had not only walked away, but made a fool of Voldemort in the process.
Dumbledore and Poppy were standing beside me. Silence lay like a blanket over the room. We were all absorbing what had happened in our own ways.
"I don't know how I could ever have been associated with such a loathsome group of people. I knew they were evil, but the degree... I never knew any of them had it in them to use a child as a toy like that." I was disgusted and sad for Draco. "I guess there are fates worse than death."
"There are many fates worse than death, but I am hoping that Draco will be able to overcome what has happened to him. Given time perhaps, and the right people..." Dumbledore trailed off. His voice betrayed the emotion he was trying to keep in check. That was the same kind of emotion I was trying to keep in check within myself. "But he will never go through what he went through again," he finished.
What he went through was more than I could imagine beyond my wildest dreams. Involuntarily, my eyes filled with tears, and I fought with all my might not to let them spill. "This is the last, you know," I told Dumbledore.
"The last what?"
"The last victim. They will never hurt another creature again and I will make it my personal mission to make sure that none of them get off. I will personally make it my life's mission to see Lord Voldemort fall. And he will fall like he has never fallen before." I had reached the end of my rope. I was starting to crack and the only thing I could think was how I was going to make them pay for what they did to this boy. This boy that others depended on. "And Harry Potter will be there to watch it unfold. I think I owe him that much," I said.
I had to get out of there before I burst into tears in front of those two. Although there were no two people in the world who would understand more, I couldn't do that. I went to the dungeons and to my private rooms. There were things I had to do here and things to come to terms with.
Thinking about Harry had opened another old wound. I sat on the bed and pulled a leather-bound album from underneath. This was the only item I owned that showed my life in any way. There was no diary, no journal, nothing more than this photo album. I opened to the first page which showed a few pictures of my parents, smiling and waving from some other planet. My parents had long since passed away, but they were not the reason I had brought this out. After flipping through a few more pages of almost forgotten people I came to what I was looking for.
There, in the middle of the page, was James Potter, smiling and batting his eyelashes at me. He used to do that a lot. He thought he was cute when he pretended to be innocent. And he was, without a doubt. I could almost hear him saying, "You're pretty when you're squicked, you know." That was his favourite word, squick. He thought it was funny when spoken aloud. James was such a simply charming individual.
Twenty years had not dulled the pain in my chest at the memory of James Potter. True, we had been arch rivals in school. It was true also that he had saved my life after his friends had tried to do me in. But the postscript to that story was one that no one knew about. James and I had made peace with each other, but it went deeper even than that. We had become lovers over a period of time. I was thinking that after we had gotten out of school we would set out into the world together. Silly dreams that were the product of an immature mind. James had fallen for Lily Evans harder than he had fallen for me. He hurt me, so I took revenge by joining Lucius Malfoy and Lord Voldemort. I was not a Death Eater for long before I left for Hogwarts. I knew it was pettiness forcing me to fight on the wrong side. It was a difficult thing to do as James and Lily were quite close to Dumbledore. I saw them frequently and it hurt very deeply to see James with someone other than myself.
I remember the first time I saw his baby son, Harry. He was there to see Dumbledore and had Harry with him. Lily was off somewhere else in the school at the moment, and I just happened to pass James on his way to Dumbledore's office. He smiled when he saw me, which was rather peculiar. Things had not been pleasant between us since I became a Death Eater.
"Severus, how are you?" he said jovially. That was James.
"Well, and yourself?" I was trying to keep my tone light. I missed him so bad and he was standing so close to me and yet so far away that it hurt.
"Great. Have you met my son, Harry, yet?" he said, grinning. His son. That kind of hurt. I was definitely glad for him, don't get me wrong, I was just highly disappointed in the way things had panned out.
"No, actually, I haven't. How old is he?" I asked, smiling back at him. James was the kind of person whose mood spread to everyone around him. He had handed him to me and I was looking down at a miniature version of James himself. Only with Lily's eyes. It felt very odd to be holding the child of the love of my life and it had nothing to do with me.
"He's almost three months." He was standing there trying not to burst with pride. As much as I wanted to hate James and Harry both, at that moment I was totally incapable. I found myself grinning back at him as I gave him his son.
"Beautiful child, James. He looks just like you..." I trailed off. A rather uncomfortable silence was starting to fall. I didn't want to turn this into an awkward situation. "And how is Lily?" I asked, desperately wanting to change the subject.
"She's doing well. I think she's off with Minerva at the moment, actually," he said.
"Give her my best, will you?" I said.
"Of course. It was good to see you, Severus," he said a little lower than usual. There was something in his voice I had not heard in a very long time. This only proved to torture me with a new intensity.
"Always a pleasure, James Dear." Oh, dear. That was the wrong thing to say. I had not called him that in years. He only smiled and continued on his way.
I couldn't help but watch him as he walked away. I seemed to have been frozen to the spot for a very long time. That was the first time I had seen him alone in months. It was the last time I would ever see him again. He did not come back to Hogwarts after that, or I didn't see him if he did. Then I read in the paper about how Harry Potter was dubbed the Boy Who Lived and had caused the Dark Lord to fall. I read about his death in the paper. I didn't want to believe that what I was reading was true. James couldn't be dead. And his son was alive.
I had come to resent and even despise Harry since our first meeting. Not because of him, but because he was the representation of my broken romance with his father. And when he came back to Hogwarts eleven years later I hated him just as fiercely. Actually, I think I hated him more and more with every passing year as with every passing year he looked more and more like James. James with Lily's eyes.
My opinion of Harry changed greatly over the past year with the way he helped Draco. They'd been absolutely horrible to each other since they came to school, and yet when Draco was in need Harry stood up when no one else would. He'd been able to put his pettiness behind him so easily and I envied him that. He truly was a noble creature and deserving of all the praise he received. Harry was the same kind of noble creature his father was.
By the time I came out of my reverie it was well past one o'clock. My mind was too full to try to sleep, so I wandered the halls. That was probably my favourite part of working at Hogwarts; I was allowed to wander the halls without getting into trouble. There was something winding around my legs. Mrs. Norris. The students hated her, and I didn't blame them, but I had gotten on her good side. I scratched her ears and magicked a couple of mice for her. She gave me a kind of cat thank you and ran after her mice.
"Oh, it's just you." Filch's voice came from behind me, making me start. "What're you so jumpy about?"
"Nothing, I just wasn't expecting to see anyone, that's all. Haven't you figured out that I'm nice to your cat yet?" I said in a kind of irritated fashion.
"I's just wondering what you're doing wandering the halls is all. Dangerous thing to do this day and age." That was so like Filch to sound like an old man. He'd sounded like an old man ever since I could remember.
"I was on my way to the infirmary," I said. I really didn't know where I was going, but as I was heading in that direction, that seemed like a destination.
"How's he?" he asked, his brow furrowing. Never had I ever heard Filch ask about a student's well being. He hated them for being magickal. Poor Filch was a Squib.
"I don't know. He was pretty beat up when he came in, but I imagine Poppy's been working on him."
He nodded, gave a slight wave, and disappeared around the corner. So Filch was human after all. I felt slightly guilty for my cynicism, but after twenty some years knowing the man as a heartless git, I just couldn't help it.
Dumbledore was sitting in the same seat I was in when I returned. I took a chair on the opposite side and assumed the same position as he. Figuring I was staying here through the night, I settled myself in.
Draco was looking slightly better. The gashes across his face were now no more than pink lines. The bruises were taking longer, but bruises always do. By morning he would be almost completely healed. He would be sore for a week or two, maybe, but the worst was over. What was going to happen when he awoke worried me. How would anyone explain to him what had happened? But there was no point in worrying about this now. The most important things were out of the way. Draco was safe and Lucius was going to die. Slowly.
*****
Snape would be on Mrs. Norris's good side, wouldn't he?
Thanks to GSKrissy, Lynn, Nykto, Allie Potter, Rubicon, Padfoot Lover, and the Goddess Shinigami. Infinite thanks for taking the time to flatter little ol' me. *blushes* You're dolls! Cheers!
