Disclaimer:
It's JKR's world, I just play in it.
-------
Dumbeldore stared into his tea, clearly searching for wisdom in its warmth. Snape for his part, was half holding his breath, afraid to do anything to cut short the headmaster's ruminations, especially considering how long he had stalled before finally coming to the older man with his decision.
Finally, the older man set his cup down with a sharp clatter, and looked up at Snape.
"This is a very difficult thing you ask, Severus."
Snape started to speak, but Dumbledore raised a hand to silence him.
"And were it up to me, I would have relieved you of this duty long ago. Please don't misunderstand when I say I have felt, especially in the last years, that there are better uses to put your skills to than witnessing the bad habits of your former friends."
"Albus, do have the decency to be plain with me."
"You know, as well as I do, that you are obligated to work as the Ministry wishes until such time as your death or Voldemort's defeat."
"Surely —"
"Surely, I will do my best, Severus, but if I tell them you are no longer willing to spy, they will argue for you to be sent back to Azkaban, and we cannot have that."
Snape actually considered the option for a moment before responding, but Dumbledore was right. Keeping his promise to Allosia in such a fashion wasn't keeping his promise at all. "No, I suppose not," he replied, still unhappy to admit to his lack of options. "You know my masters," he said with disgust, "far better than I. Have you any suggestions on a course of action that would be appropriate?" Snape scowled, he was angry at himself for sounding so ungrateful, but to ask for help in controlling his own destiny was not something he enjoyed.
Dumbledore sighed. He had suggested near impossible and awful tasks to Snape far far too many times over the years. "They will not trust you until you no longer wear the mark," he said, hoping the younger man would not take it as a challenge.
Patient Sia,
Extrication from my current state of employ may prove to be more difficult than I had hoped when I offered you this particular retirement. I would say expected, but even on those rare occasions when I am an optimist, I am not a fool, and Albus told me nothing I did not already know, although I suppose there is always something be to gained from the confirmation of one's restrictions.
I am not looking forward to breaking the news to you, and am well tempted not to, until I ascertain yet again, what I also already know. That the removal of the Dark Mark is necessary to my renunciation of this long bitter occupation is a simple matter, but also an impossible one and renders my promise to you cruel at best. I am not sure you realize how easily I could still be put in Azkaban, and truth be told, until today's conversation, I hadn't considered the proposition enough to grasp its coldness.
It occurs, although dimly in all this gloaming, that it has been many years since I have tried to restore such limited purity to my flesh. Perhaps there is something I did not think of that childhood; perhaps Potter is the savior not just of the wizarding world, but of myself; perhaps all the nonsense in Gabriel's books is true, and the love of a beautiful woman, pure of heart will heal the crippled and cure the sick.
But you are not so pure of heart, are you? And mayhaps not as beautiful to others as to myself, but I am happy with this strange beauty in my strange life, and well know that my unacceptable face is too well compensated with your difficult companionship. Be assured that in my life of perpetual and unpleasant commerce, there is nothing I would exchange you for, despite my threats and fits; you have grown too used to them. I do wonder, if it feels very different when I enter you, as I most fervently wish were allowed tonight, in need of such desperate solace. It does not seem right, to come home, merely to breathe all this ghastly and unearned fear into you.
My tongue slowly finds itself unbound, and I do wonder what other dangers that trust signals.
These roots reach too deeply for our safety.
Yours,
Severus.
The walk to their apartments seemed more wearying than it had in a long time, his mind too active on problems too stagnant. Opening the door, he was greeted briefly by the site of his wife sitting on the floor watching Gabriel hard at work keeping several small objects in the air with wingardium leviosa. He chuckled, which was enough to draw their attention to him and cause the objects to fly in his direction.
Snape drew his wand, quickly whispering an incantation to shield him for the approaching items. They clattered to the ground upon contact, and he looked vaguely embarrassed as he muttered "finite incantatum." Silently, he cursed his reflexes and such a display of overkill, but was grateful he could at least manage to think defensively when necessary.
"That looked like a good beginning," he said quietly. "I am sorry for interrupting you.," but the truth was, he was glad to have seen it; it was much better than many first years could have done.
Gabriel started to work on the task again, but Allosia asked him to wait, turning her attention to Severus.
"You don't look like a man bearing good news," she said.
"Do I ever?" And he crossed the room and flung himself into a chair, eager for the brief respite of little spells and quiet lives.