Disclaimer: I don't own anyone and I don't make any money. Too bad for
me.
The Minister of Magic had been concerned that Albus Dumbledore hadn't contacted him right away after he returned home. But surely… Albus's words, so harshly forced out, made his blood freeze. No. He must have heard wrong. Albus surely didn't mean…
Unbidden, the Wizard's son was called to mind. A somewhat shy little boy with a stubborn streak that mirrored his mother's and a quick intelligence for one so young. The Minister smiled shakily, his uneasiness building.
"My friend, what do you mean?" The Minister tried to keep his voice steady. Dumbledore looked horrible, worse then he'd ever seen him. Something really bad must have happened. And to the boy. Oh gods!
"I mean they killed him!" Dumbledore shouted, his eyes wild. The Minister trembled slightly, half out of fear that the very powerful, currently very deranged Wizard would do something drastic. He opened his mouth to reply but Dumbledore kept raging and cut him off.
"He was only four years old. How could they do this?" The Minister realized that Dumbledore wasn't really speaking to him. Actually, the Wizard didn't seem to be aware of anything right now other then his intense grief.
"You-you can't mean," the Minister stammered in denial. 'Murdered,' his muddled mind was yelling, 'He's telling you that Severus has been murdered.'
"My baby, my poor baby," Dumbledore sobbed as he sank to his knees. "What did he ever do to deserve this? Damn them!" he screamed suddenly, making the Minister flinch. "Damn them all!"
"Albus, please. This is a horrible thing to happen, but you need to calm down." Bloody Hell, Albus was losing it. Could this situation get any worse?
"They killed the sitter too," Dumbledore said, wrapping his arms around his body. His eyes came up to meet the Minister's, silently begging for any explanation. "They were just children."
"Albus, we'll send someone over to get you. Just don't go anywhere." The Minister's hope of keeping the Wizard contained died as Dumbledore laughed, such an empty sound.
"I already left. I took Sev-" he stopped and shook his head, tears streaming from his eyes. "I can't say it. I can't say his name." The Minister made a mental note of that comment.
"Then we'll go get the girl. We'll take her to her family,' the Minister tried to console his friend. Dumbledore looked up suddenly, an angry fire in his eyes that alarmed the Minster.
"There are two men stunned in the boy's bedroom. They are the ones that killed him. I want you to bring the Dementors. They can have them when you are finished questioning them." The Minister of Magic paled. He didn't know what alarmed him more. The fact that the child's murders would not remain faceless shadows for much longer or the fact that Albus Dumbledore had just told him to send two people to the Dementors. Albus didn't approve of handing people over to the Dementors, usually, anyway.
"How do you know they were the ones?" The Minister asked, no longer trying to hide his nervousness.
"I saw them!" Dumbledore yelled, all dignity and control gone. "I got there too late. Just in time, though, to watch them cast that horrible spell." The Minister shook his head hopelessly. What could he say? Nothing could change this terrible, terrible event.
"I-I'm sorry. If there's anything I can do?" Dumbledore brushed the offer away.
"I buried him myself. I will not let them know where to find his g-grave." He buried his face in his hands and began to sob while the Minister looked on, uncertain what to do for his friend.
"I need to be alone," Dumbledore whispered when he was able. His dull blue eyes drifted over to the Minister. "I will contact you when I have control over my emotions." The Minister opened his mouth to protest but the connection was terminated before he could say a word.
Dumbledore sat there on the floor for a few minutes more before letting out a ragged sigh and climbed slowly to his feet. The stage was set.
He could almost hear the Minister running down the hall from his office to alert the other people in the building. They would retrieve Tammi and take her to family. The two attackers would be interrogated; the Minister wouldn't wait for him to arrive.
Then the Minister would tell the rest of the Ministry workers that Albus Dumbledore was on the verge of becoming seriously mentally unhinged and to never mention Severus again. As far as anyone was concerned, from this moment on Severus no longer had ever existed.
And that was exactly what he wanted; for everyone to forget Severus so that he might grow up without having to watch his every step for assassins.
Now he just had to complete the plan. Dumbledore wiped the tears from his face and flattened his hair back into place. This was the hard part; saying goodbye.
He un-charmed the door and was surprised to find Severus standing just outside, his eyes wide with fear and damp from crying. Dumbledore instantly scooped him up and held him close until the soft weeping subsided.
"I woke up. You were gone," Severus whispered forlornly. Dumbledore began to rock him gently and nodded.
"I know, Severus. I had something to take care of. But I'm back. I'm here, little one." Severus sniffed twice and lay his head against his father's shoulder, immersing himself into the warm embrace.
Dumbledore swallowed back a sob. This was so hard.
"I love you, Severus," Dumbledore whispered desperately into the sleep- tangled hair before pressing a kiss to his forehead. "I will always love you." Severus sighed sleepily.
"Love you too, Daddy," he whispered, nearly asleep. Dumbledore took a long moment to look at him, blazing the picture into his memory.
Then he took out his wand. He paused a second before whispering a spell resilient to the normal stop-curse. In front of his eyes Severus's hair began to darken and the slight curl straightened out.
Severus's eyes fluttered open just in time for Dumbledore to see the clear blue eyes cloud and become an inky black. But still watching him with loving trust.
"Go to sleep," Dumbledore murmured softly to his child. "It is way past your bedtime." Severus nodded as his lips curved into a small smile. Yawning quietly he nestled a bit more comfortably and closed his eyes again, unaware of the changes that had taken place.
Another spell was cast. This time it was the clothes the boy was wearing that were altered. The black robe accented the inherited thinness and made the purple bruises on his pale face stand out more. Then a sleeping spell that would keep Severus in a deep sleep for two hours.
Dumbledore carefully placed his son back on the couch. Severus was completely out, his breathing easy and calm. The old blanket that had fallen to the floor was transformed into a black tablecloth and wrapped around the sleeping child. Now, to alter his own appearance.
Dumbledore, always a master at transfiguration, turned himself into stern looking old man with thin white hair pulled sharply back into a ponytail. The black and white suit he was wearing gave evidence to a servant's position.
Only one thing left. Bending over his child, Dumbledore cast one last charm. Severus whimpered softly but didn't wake as the memory charm wove its way through his mind, taking everything but the most basic skills.
'What would he be left with?' Dumbledore wondered as a small frown appeared on the boy's face. Most likely his stubbornness, his temper, his quick mind, all together not the best combination of things. But what other option was there?
"I'm so sorry," he whispered to Severus, gently stroking the raven hair way from his face. Then, carefully supporting his head, Dumbledore lifted his son off the couch and cradled him in his arms. This was it.
Taking a deep breath to steady his resolve, Dumbledore apparated the two of them into Knockturn Alley. Few lights broke the gloom of the filthy streets but Dumbledore didn't dare light his wand. Rather, he aimed to hide in the darkness as he moved quickly in the shadows of aged buildings.
Severus shivered as the cold night air hit his face and Dumbledore held him closer, hopelessly trying to warm the little body.
A few mangy looking cats peered at them from a garbage pile but aside from that Dumbledore saw no one.
He didn't stop walking until they reached a dilapidated, three story brick building. Several windows were broken and the yard was a mess but this was their destination; the Knockturn Alley Orphanage.
Dumbledore slunk around to the back and kicked on the weather beaten door. A few minutes later there was the sound of a lock being undone and the door opened an inch for an old woman with piercing gray eyes to look out.
She eyed Dumbledore with little interest and then shifted her gaze to the bundle in his arms. Her eyes narrowed and her discolored lips curled into a sneer.
"No room," she snarled. Dumbledore put on an air of snobbish indifference and, shifting Severus to one arm, tossed a little black silk purse at the woman.
"He's got a patron," Dumbledore snipped, playing the part of a snobbish English servant perfectly. The woman hefted the bag expertly and smiled a cold, toothless grin.
"Maybe we got room then," she admitted, stepping outside and pulling a shawl around her shoulders. Dumbledore was not fooled. One of the orphans who didn't have someone paying for them would be kicked out to make more room.
"So what's 'is story, heh?" the old woman asked peering at Severus's sleeping face. "Second son? Squib? Half blood bastard?" Dumbledore shook his head, let her think what she wished.
"I'm just the delivery boy," he replied stiffly. The old woman shrugged.
"It's none of my business," she cackled. "We 'ear and see everything but tell none."
Deciding not to comment, Dumbledore merely nodded coolly and let her take Severus from him; immediately wanting to snatch him back, missing the warm weight of his son in his arms.
"Snape, Severus. November 18, 1959," Dumbledore said taking back the tablecloth before the woman could try to keep it. Let her think it belonged to the household he worked for. She scowled, noticing his keeping the expensive looking piece of cloth and then looked down at the dark haired child, noting the wounds on his face.
"You look like you 'ad a bad run in." She looked up to see the old man- servant's reaction but saw that he was already gone. She shrugged, in her lifetime she was used to all sorts of people. She certainly didn't expect him to hang around. If it was the mother who had dropped the brat off, maybe. But what did a servant care? Probably glad to see him evicted.
"Well then, Severus, welcome to your new home." The child, secured in her rough hold moved slightly, whimpering, and she laughed softly at the evident unhappiness he expressed even in sleep. Then she turned and went inside, the heavy door slamming shut behind her.
Dumbledore stood in the shadows and watched Severus disappear into the dark, foreboding building. "Be safe, dear child." Then he left. After all, he had an empty grave to dig.
TBC
Author's Note: Okay, I'm getting the hint from a certain Mystical Dragon that it's time to get back to the 'present' and see the reactions that Snape has to finding all this out. That is coming next week, I promise.
The Minister of Magic had been concerned that Albus Dumbledore hadn't contacted him right away after he returned home. But surely… Albus's words, so harshly forced out, made his blood freeze. No. He must have heard wrong. Albus surely didn't mean…
Unbidden, the Wizard's son was called to mind. A somewhat shy little boy with a stubborn streak that mirrored his mother's and a quick intelligence for one so young. The Minister smiled shakily, his uneasiness building.
"My friend, what do you mean?" The Minister tried to keep his voice steady. Dumbledore looked horrible, worse then he'd ever seen him. Something really bad must have happened. And to the boy. Oh gods!
"I mean they killed him!" Dumbledore shouted, his eyes wild. The Minister trembled slightly, half out of fear that the very powerful, currently very deranged Wizard would do something drastic. He opened his mouth to reply but Dumbledore kept raging and cut him off.
"He was only four years old. How could they do this?" The Minister realized that Dumbledore wasn't really speaking to him. Actually, the Wizard didn't seem to be aware of anything right now other then his intense grief.
"You-you can't mean," the Minister stammered in denial. 'Murdered,' his muddled mind was yelling, 'He's telling you that Severus has been murdered.'
"My baby, my poor baby," Dumbledore sobbed as he sank to his knees. "What did he ever do to deserve this? Damn them!" he screamed suddenly, making the Minister flinch. "Damn them all!"
"Albus, please. This is a horrible thing to happen, but you need to calm down." Bloody Hell, Albus was losing it. Could this situation get any worse?
"They killed the sitter too," Dumbledore said, wrapping his arms around his body. His eyes came up to meet the Minister's, silently begging for any explanation. "They were just children."
"Albus, we'll send someone over to get you. Just don't go anywhere." The Minister's hope of keeping the Wizard contained died as Dumbledore laughed, such an empty sound.
"I already left. I took Sev-" he stopped and shook his head, tears streaming from his eyes. "I can't say it. I can't say his name." The Minister made a mental note of that comment.
"Then we'll go get the girl. We'll take her to her family,' the Minister tried to console his friend. Dumbledore looked up suddenly, an angry fire in his eyes that alarmed the Minster.
"There are two men stunned in the boy's bedroom. They are the ones that killed him. I want you to bring the Dementors. They can have them when you are finished questioning them." The Minister of Magic paled. He didn't know what alarmed him more. The fact that the child's murders would not remain faceless shadows for much longer or the fact that Albus Dumbledore had just told him to send two people to the Dementors. Albus didn't approve of handing people over to the Dementors, usually, anyway.
"How do you know they were the ones?" The Minister asked, no longer trying to hide his nervousness.
"I saw them!" Dumbledore yelled, all dignity and control gone. "I got there too late. Just in time, though, to watch them cast that horrible spell." The Minister shook his head hopelessly. What could he say? Nothing could change this terrible, terrible event.
"I-I'm sorry. If there's anything I can do?" Dumbledore brushed the offer away.
"I buried him myself. I will not let them know where to find his g-grave." He buried his face in his hands and began to sob while the Minister looked on, uncertain what to do for his friend.
"I need to be alone," Dumbledore whispered when he was able. His dull blue eyes drifted over to the Minister. "I will contact you when I have control over my emotions." The Minister opened his mouth to protest but the connection was terminated before he could say a word.
Dumbledore sat there on the floor for a few minutes more before letting out a ragged sigh and climbed slowly to his feet. The stage was set.
He could almost hear the Minister running down the hall from his office to alert the other people in the building. They would retrieve Tammi and take her to family. The two attackers would be interrogated; the Minister wouldn't wait for him to arrive.
Then the Minister would tell the rest of the Ministry workers that Albus Dumbledore was on the verge of becoming seriously mentally unhinged and to never mention Severus again. As far as anyone was concerned, from this moment on Severus no longer had ever existed.
And that was exactly what he wanted; for everyone to forget Severus so that he might grow up without having to watch his every step for assassins.
Now he just had to complete the plan. Dumbledore wiped the tears from his face and flattened his hair back into place. This was the hard part; saying goodbye.
He un-charmed the door and was surprised to find Severus standing just outside, his eyes wide with fear and damp from crying. Dumbledore instantly scooped him up and held him close until the soft weeping subsided.
"I woke up. You were gone," Severus whispered forlornly. Dumbledore began to rock him gently and nodded.
"I know, Severus. I had something to take care of. But I'm back. I'm here, little one." Severus sniffed twice and lay his head against his father's shoulder, immersing himself into the warm embrace.
Dumbledore swallowed back a sob. This was so hard.
"I love you, Severus," Dumbledore whispered desperately into the sleep- tangled hair before pressing a kiss to his forehead. "I will always love you." Severus sighed sleepily.
"Love you too, Daddy," he whispered, nearly asleep. Dumbledore took a long moment to look at him, blazing the picture into his memory.
Then he took out his wand. He paused a second before whispering a spell resilient to the normal stop-curse. In front of his eyes Severus's hair began to darken and the slight curl straightened out.
Severus's eyes fluttered open just in time for Dumbledore to see the clear blue eyes cloud and become an inky black. But still watching him with loving trust.
"Go to sleep," Dumbledore murmured softly to his child. "It is way past your bedtime." Severus nodded as his lips curved into a small smile. Yawning quietly he nestled a bit more comfortably and closed his eyes again, unaware of the changes that had taken place.
Another spell was cast. This time it was the clothes the boy was wearing that were altered. The black robe accented the inherited thinness and made the purple bruises on his pale face stand out more. Then a sleeping spell that would keep Severus in a deep sleep for two hours.
Dumbledore carefully placed his son back on the couch. Severus was completely out, his breathing easy and calm. The old blanket that had fallen to the floor was transformed into a black tablecloth and wrapped around the sleeping child. Now, to alter his own appearance.
Dumbledore, always a master at transfiguration, turned himself into stern looking old man with thin white hair pulled sharply back into a ponytail. The black and white suit he was wearing gave evidence to a servant's position.
Only one thing left. Bending over his child, Dumbledore cast one last charm. Severus whimpered softly but didn't wake as the memory charm wove its way through his mind, taking everything but the most basic skills.
'What would he be left with?' Dumbledore wondered as a small frown appeared on the boy's face. Most likely his stubbornness, his temper, his quick mind, all together not the best combination of things. But what other option was there?
"I'm so sorry," he whispered to Severus, gently stroking the raven hair way from his face. Then, carefully supporting his head, Dumbledore lifted his son off the couch and cradled him in his arms. This was it.
Taking a deep breath to steady his resolve, Dumbledore apparated the two of them into Knockturn Alley. Few lights broke the gloom of the filthy streets but Dumbledore didn't dare light his wand. Rather, he aimed to hide in the darkness as he moved quickly in the shadows of aged buildings.
Severus shivered as the cold night air hit his face and Dumbledore held him closer, hopelessly trying to warm the little body.
A few mangy looking cats peered at them from a garbage pile but aside from that Dumbledore saw no one.
He didn't stop walking until they reached a dilapidated, three story brick building. Several windows were broken and the yard was a mess but this was their destination; the Knockturn Alley Orphanage.
Dumbledore slunk around to the back and kicked on the weather beaten door. A few minutes later there was the sound of a lock being undone and the door opened an inch for an old woman with piercing gray eyes to look out.
She eyed Dumbledore with little interest and then shifted her gaze to the bundle in his arms. Her eyes narrowed and her discolored lips curled into a sneer.
"No room," she snarled. Dumbledore put on an air of snobbish indifference and, shifting Severus to one arm, tossed a little black silk purse at the woman.
"He's got a patron," Dumbledore snipped, playing the part of a snobbish English servant perfectly. The woman hefted the bag expertly and smiled a cold, toothless grin.
"Maybe we got room then," she admitted, stepping outside and pulling a shawl around her shoulders. Dumbledore was not fooled. One of the orphans who didn't have someone paying for them would be kicked out to make more room.
"So what's 'is story, heh?" the old woman asked peering at Severus's sleeping face. "Second son? Squib? Half blood bastard?" Dumbledore shook his head, let her think what she wished.
"I'm just the delivery boy," he replied stiffly. The old woman shrugged.
"It's none of my business," she cackled. "We 'ear and see everything but tell none."
Deciding not to comment, Dumbledore merely nodded coolly and let her take Severus from him; immediately wanting to snatch him back, missing the warm weight of his son in his arms.
"Snape, Severus. November 18, 1959," Dumbledore said taking back the tablecloth before the woman could try to keep it. Let her think it belonged to the household he worked for. She scowled, noticing his keeping the expensive looking piece of cloth and then looked down at the dark haired child, noting the wounds on his face.
"You look like you 'ad a bad run in." She looked up to see the old man- servant's reaction but saw that he was already gone. She shrugged, in her lifetime she was used to all sorts of people. She certainly didn't expect him to hang around. If it was the mother who had dropped the brat off, maybe. But what did a servant care? Probably glad to see him evicted.
"Well then, Severus, welcome to your new home." The child, secured in her rough hold moved slightly, whimpering, and she laughed softly at the evident unhappiness he expressed even in sleep. Then she turned and went inside, the heavy door slamming shut behind her.
Dumbledore stood in the shadows and watched Severus disappear into the dark, foreboding building. "Be safe, dear child." Then he left. After all, he had an empty grave to dig.
TBC
Author's Note: Okay, I'm getting the hint from a certain Mystical Dragon that it's time to get back to the 'present' and see the reactions that Snape has to finding all this out. That is coming next week, I promise.