Disclaimer: You know the drill. I don't own anyone. I don't make any
money. I don't have a life…
Two Months Later
Remus Lupin pulled his cloak closer around his shoulders and shivered. The halls of Hogwarts, always cold in early February, were even more so at night. Personally, he would have much preferred to be in his *heated* room, asleep or reading.
But no, he had hall patrol until two when Professor Vector would switch off with him. Still, at least he wasn't alone. Loping along at his side, with a coat of shaggy black fur to keep him warm, was Sirius Black; in his animagus form, of course.
Black was still being hunted by the Ministry but Dumbledore had agreed to let him stay at Hogwarts. The only condition was that he was not to bother Snape. The Headmaster had been very adamant about this.
Black had readily agreed (he preferred to pretend that Snape wasn't even in the castle) and was introduced in as Professor Lupin's pet. Lupin enjoyed having his friend around again, as did Harry.
School started and the months had moved along easily. No one suspected the furry black dog and on the few occasions Snape and Black did have a chance meeting, they both ignored each other.
But tonight, Black was in a particularly bad mood.
After dinner Harry and his friends had stopped by to chat and amid the recap of the day recalled the twenty odd points that Snape had managed to take off Gryffindor during their Potions class, not to mention the usual verbal slurs.
So it was no surprise that when Black and Lupin entered the library and saw Snape asleep at a table, his head resting in his arms and on one of the open books spread around him, Black began to growl.
"Stop that," Lupin whispered to his doggy friend, "He'll hear you." Black silenced reluctantly. After all, a Snape asleep was a lot better then a Snape awake and cranky.
Preferably dead, but who really believed in miracles?
"Let's go," Lupin said, prodding Black with his foot, "No one is going to be here with him around." Black agreed with a nod of his big shaggy head and then froze. His sharp ears had picked up the sound footsteps approaching from the other direction.
Lupin noticed how the ears perked up and moved forward. The two exchanged a quick glance and pressed closer to the towering bookcases, counting on the shadows to hide them from view.
Between Black's acute hearing and Lupin's keen eyesight, there was no way a student would escape their notice.
Then, to their surprise, it was Headmaster Dumbledore who appeared and approached the sleeping figure at the table, an amused smile on his face. Black and Lupin watched as the wizard came around Snape and gently shook him awake.
Snape sat up slowly, blinking exhaustedly. He had been in the middle of doing research for a potion he was experimenting with and then…must have fallen asleep. He heard a soft laugh and realized that someone was with him.
It couldn't be a student. Even his Slytherins, though not afraid of him, usually kept a respectful distance unless they had something they needed to talk to him about. A teacher then. And not too hard to make an educated guess on which one.
He tilted his head back slightly and saw the kind blue eyes watching him. Snape smiled shyly up at the Headmaster, happy to see him even in his half asleep condition. Dumbledore returned the smile warmly and leaned over to talk to him.
Black inched forward but he couldn't hear the conversation being exchanged between the two men. Well, whatever had been said, Dumbledore was pleased and pulled Snape out of his chair and to his feet.
Snape yawned and stretched before running a tired hand though his hair. He could very easily go back to sleep. Even if he had to settle for the floor.
Dumbledore had turned his attention to the books scattered on the table and was busy marking the pages that they had been opened to. He spared a glance back at Snape and noticed the dark eyes beginning to close again. He cast a quick levitating charm on the texts and nudged Snape forward, the books following obediently.
As they disappeared out the far door, Black changed back and glared in their direction. Damn Death Eater. He didn't care what Dumbledore told him. He didn't trust Snape as far as he could hex him.
"I hate him," he snapped, frustration coloring his words. The Headmaster was being played for a fool and there was bloody nothing he could do about it.
Lupin shrugged and placed a hand on his friend's shoulder. This wasn't an uncommon comment from his friend regarding Snape. He understood his friend's dislike for the Potions master; he just didn't completely agree with him.
Snape, though obviously didn't care much for him, for the most part, treated him as he did the rest of the staff; with cool politeness or sarcasm.
"It can't be helped, Padfoot," he said, using the old nickname to calm the irate man, "Dumbledore has a soft spot for him. I don't know why, but he does. Always has, and you aren't going to be able to change that."
Black shrugged off the levelheaded, sensible words. He knew why. He just wasn't supposed to tell.
"Come on," he said turning back to the hall, "If we're lucky we'll be able to find some slippery little Slytherin roaming around." Lupin sighed good- naturedly and followed the large black dog down the corridor.
Dumbledore opened the door to Snape's personal quarters and herded the weary wizard inside. The books for the Potion master's research slipped around the two men to the crowded desk and somehow found a place to stack themselves.
Snape tried to sink down onto his couch but had his hand caught by Dumbledore who kept him standing and redirected him towards his bedroom.
"You need real sleep, Severus," Dumbledore lightly scolded, "Not a quick nap here and there." Snape yawned again and nodded, not in the mood to argue. The bed, the couch, the table, it was all the same to him.
Snape slipped into his room, changed out of his robes quickly, put on his nightclothes, and snuggled into his bed. He had just made himself comfortable under the blankets when the door opened.
Dumbledore stood silhouetted in the doorway, a washcloth in his hand. Snape raised his eyebrow in question. His father tried to hide a smile and came over to sit next to him.
"You have ink marks on your face from the book," Dumbledore explained with a small grin. Snape really did look funny with the black lettering like tiny tattoos across his pale skin.
Snape rolled his eyes in exasperation but let Dumbledore run the damp cloth over his face to get rid of the marks.
"There," Dumbledore announced as he erased the last letters and pushed the dark hair away from Snape's eyes. "Perfect." Then he pulled the covers up to his son's neck and tucked the edges around him.
Snape debated telling him that he didn't need to be treated like a baby and decided against it. He didn't really mind the attention. No, not at all.
"Severus," Dumbledore said softly, knowing he was nearly asleep, "Will you be here tomorrow evening at eight? I want to talk to you." Snape nodded, sealing the promise into his memory.
"I'll be here."
"Good. Sleep well, child."
"You too."
***
The next morning, Black was still in a foul mood. He even dared to growl at two First Year Slytherin girls in Snape's presence, earning a dark glare from the wizard as he assured his students that the dog wouldn't bite them. If the mutt did, he promised them that he'd personally see the mongrel dragged off to the vet to be 'fixed'.
Black snarled at the Potions master but had never the less retreated to friendlier territory, cursing the man the entire way.
He remained sulky through dinner and even the appearance of Harry, Ron, and Hermione could not drag him out of his aggravated state.
Harry was concerned at his godfather's behavior. He had never seen Black like this before. The animagus was usually so laid back, he couldn't think what had happened to upset him.
Harry repressed a frustrated sigh; he wasn't sure what to do. Finally, he settled for casting a concerned look in Lupin's direction.
The Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor was one of his godfather's closest friends. He'd know what to do.
Lupin saw the look Harry sent him and titled his head in silent question. Harry motioned over to where Black was sitting, a bit apart from the group. The werewolf sighed and set his teacup down firmly on the table.
"Enough," he declared, turning to look back at his friend, "Sirius Black, what is the matter with you? You've been in a bad mood all day." Black blinked in surprise at the reprimanding words. Then he smiled tightly.
He recognized that tone. It was the 'You are acting like a git stop it or I'll hex you with multiple cheering charms' tone of Lupin's from their school days. He hadn't heard that tone in a long time.
Of course, the last time he heard it James hadn't snapped out of his gloom and doom mode quickly enough and Lupin had actually hexed him.
Unfortunately, he cast the spell a little hard. James ended up giggling like a maniac for three days straight. They had always taken that tone seriously after that.
"I'm being a prat. I'm sorry," Black admitted, moving closer to the others and excepting the cup of tea Harry handed him. Lupin nodded in exaggerated agreement, causing a real smile to finding its way to Black's lips. "I'm just aggravated."
"About?" Hermione queried as she passed him the sugar tongs and instantly regretting her curiosity when his eyes darkened again.
Black tapped the utensil against his cheek as he mulled over what to do. He knew it was practically a forbidden topic but, ah, what the hell. It would make for interesting conversation. And when had he ever been one to follow the rules?
"Have you ever wondered why Dumbledore keeps Snape on the staff despite obvious indications that he's in league with Voldermort?" Lupin looked confused at the topic of choice and took a sip of his tea while he pondered his reply. Ron shuddered at the name while Hermione stirred her drink thoughtfully.
But Harry shrugged and answered the question.
"Dumbledore said that he trusts him." Black snorted in detest. The Headmaster trusted easily; that didn't count.
And over the years Dumbledore was known to have very bad ideas from time to time.
The theme of 'Think Pink' for the Halloween dance during his fifth year, for example, had been one.
Letting Hagrid, ah, 'walk' Fluffy on the Quidditch field before a big match (did that monster leave some BIG droppings) had been another.
But in Black's opinion, placing trust in Snape had to be the worst.
"Did he tell you why he trusts him?" Black challenged his godson.
Harry bit his lip and shook his head. The Headmaster hadn't told him that. And he had asked too. Black smirked triumphantly and leaned forward.
"I'm going to tell you something," he began, lowering his voice, "that most people don't know or have been ordered to forget. I found out myself during the Christmas holidays of my First Year. This is what happened.
My father and your grandfather, Harry, James' dad, both worked for the Ministry of Magic. Our two families always spent Christmas together. Anyway, after dinner we were discussing classes and happened to complain about an incident that had happened right before break. It involved Snape and several nasty hexes.
Professor Kingsly, the Head of Gryffindor before McGonagal, had already left for Christmas. His family lived in Russia and he had gotten permission from Dumbledore to leave a few days early. Because of that, after Flinch broke us up, we were taken to the Headmaster to receive our punishment.
Dumbledore listened to everyone's side of the story. James and I backed up each other's version of the events. Snape had been alone at the time; no other student, Slytherin or otherwise, had seen what happened.
But in the end, Dumbledore chose the Snape's story over ours and gave us both a week of detention. Snape got off with a warning about fighting."
"I remember that," Lupin said softly. "You and James fumed about it for weeks."
"Did you start the fight?" Hermione broke in suddenly, looking sternly at Black. He brushed the accusation off. Who started the fight wasn't the point.
"That doesn't matter. The fact is that he chose Snape, a lone Slytherin, over us Gryffindors. Needless to say, we were not pleased. My father heard us complaining and asked what the Slytherin's name was. He thought he might know his parents if they worked for the Ministry. When we told him that the creep's names was 'Severus,' my father suddenly turned very pale.
Saying in a very grave tone that he had to talk to us, my father took James and I to the library and told us about the Headmaster's Severus." Ron scratched his head, thoroughly confused.
"What?" Black's eyes gleamed madly. His audience was captivated, waiting for him to explain.
"It turned out that Dumbledore had a son named Severus." Lupin grinned and shook his head. Black looked peeved at his reaction and Lupin coughed once to hide laughter.
"You almost had me there, Padfoot old boy. But everyone knows that Albus Dumbledore doesn't have any children." Black glared at his friend.
"He did so. His Severus was murdered when he was four years old." Hermione gasped and Ron placed his teacup shakily back on the table. Harry looked thoroughly shocked and Lupin paled.
"Poor Dumbledore," Hermione whispered, cutting through the silence. "It must have been so hard for him to lose his son."
"That's not my point," Black rushed on, "I'm talking about what happened six years later."
"What happen?" Ron asked, his eyes wide. Black's grin was crocodilian; like a cat who has caught the rodent he has been tracking.
"Severus Snape started Hogwarts and was sorted into Slytherin. What is the likely hood," Black said, leaning forward and lowering his voice to just above a whisper, "That another boy would start Hogwarts the year the dead child would have and happens to share a rather unique name?
My father told us that Dumbledore went slightly mad after the death of his Severus. It was actually illegal to mention Severus Dumbledore in the Headmaster's presence for fear that he would lose all grip on reality. And then suddenly a scrawny little boy with the name Severus is sorted into Slytherin and just happens to be the same age?" Black shook his head, his dark hair flying back and forth.
"I don't think so. Snape's real name is most likely not even Severus. He is probably the child of one of the two men who killed little Severus and his babysitter or another of Voldermort's early followers.
They changed his name so that Dumbledore would notice him. And why not? Dad told us that Dumbledore got back too late to save his son, but just in time to watch the killing spell be cast.
This Slytherin, marked to be evil but sharing the name of his son, he would be the Severus he saved."
TBC
Author's Note: Next time, why Dumbledore wanted to see Snape and an appearance by McGonagal. (No, she's not his mother)
Two Months Later
Remus Lupin pulled his cloak closer around his shoulders and shivered. The halls of Hogwarts, always cold in early February, were even more so at night. Personally, he would have much preferred to be in his *heated* room, asleep or reading.
But no, he had hall patrol until two when Professor Vector would switch off with him. Still, at least he wasn't alone. Loping along at his side, with a coat of shaggy black fur to keep him warm, was Sirius Black; in his animagus form, of course.
Black was still being hunted by the Ministry but Dumbledore had agreed to let him stay at Hogwarts. The only condition was that he was not to bother Snape. The Headmaster had been very adamant about this.
Black had readily agreed (he preferred to pretend that Snape wasn't even in the castle) and was introduced in as Professor Lupin's pet. Lupin enjoyed having his friend around again, as did Harry.
School started and the months had moved along easily. No one suspected the furry black dog and on the few occasions Snape and Black did have a chance meeting, they both ignored each other.
But tonight, Black was in a particularly bad mood.
After dinner Harry and his friends had stopped by to chat and amid the recap of the day recalled the twenty odd points that Snape had managed to take off Gryffindor during their Potions class, not to mention the usual verbal slurs.
So it was no surprise that when Black and Lupin entered the library and saw Snape asleep at a table, his head resting in his arms and on one of the open books spread around him, Black began to growl.
"Stop that," Lupin whispered to his doggy friend, "He'll hear you." Black silenced reluctantly. After all, a Snape asleep was a lot better then a Snape awake and cranky.
Preferably dead, but who really believed in miracles?
"Let's go," Lupin said, prodding Black with his foot, "No one is going to be here with him around." Black agreed with a nod of his big shaggy head and then froze. His sharp ears had picked up the sound footsteps approaching from the other direction.
Lupin noticed how the ears perked up and moved forward. The two exchanged a quick glance and pressed closer to the towering bookcases, counting on the shadows to hide them from view.
Between Black's acute hearing and Lupin's keen eyesight, there was no way a student would escape their notice.
Then, to their surprise, it was Headmaster Dumbledore who appeared and approached the sleeping figure at the table, an amused smile on his face. Black and Lupin watched as the wizard came around Snape and gently shook him awake.
Snape sat up slowly, blinking exhaustedly. He had been in the middle of doing research for a potion he was experimenting with and then…must have fallen asleep. He heard a soft laugh and realized that someone was with him.
It couldn't be a student. Even his Slytherins, though not afraid of him, usually kept a respectful distance unless they had something they needed to talk to him about. A teacher then. And not too hard to make an educated guess on which one.
He tilted his head back slightly and saw the kind blue eyes watching him. Snape smiled shyly up at the Headmaster, happy to see him even in his half asleep condition. Dumbledore returned the smile warmly and leaned over to talk to him.
Black inched forward but he couldn't hear the conversation being exchanged between the two men. Well, whatever had been said, Dumbledore was pleased and pulled Snape out of his chair and to his feet.
Snape yawned and stretched before running a tired hand though his hair. He could very easily go back to sleep. Even if he had to settle for the floor.
Dumbledore had turned his attention to the books scattered on the table and was busy marking the pages that they had been opened to. He spared a glance back at Snape and noticed the dark eyes beginning to close again. He cast a quick levitating charm on the texts and nudged Snape forward, the books following obediently.
As they disappeared out the far door, Black changed back and glared in their direction. Damn Death Eater. He didn't care what Dumbledore told him. He didn't trust Snape as far as he could hex him.
"I hate him," he snapped, frustration coloring his words. The Headmaster was being played for a fool and there was bloody nothing he could do about it.
Lupin shrugged and placed a hand on his friend's shoulder. This wasn't an uncommon comment from his friend regarding Snape. He understood his friend's dislike for the Potions master; he just didn't completely agree with him.
Snape, though obviously didn't care much for him, for the most part, treated him as he did the rest of the staff; with cool politeness or sarcasm.
"It can't be helped, Padfoot," he said, using the old nickname to calm the irate man, "Dumbledore has a soft spot for him. I don't know why, but he does. Always has, and you aren't going to be able to change that."
Black shrugged off the levelheaded, sensible words. He knew why. He just wasn't supposed to tell.
"Come on," he said turning back to the hall, "If we're lucky we'll be able to find some slippery little Slytherin roaming around." Lupin sighed good- naturedly and followed the large black dog down the corridor.
Dumbledore opened the door to Snape's personal quarters and herded the weary wizard inside. The books for the Potion master's research slipped around the two men to the crowded desk and somehow found a place to stack themselves.
Snape tried to sink down onto his couch but had his hand caught by Dumbledore who kept him standing and redirected him towards his bedroom.
"You need real sleep, Severus," Dumbledore lightly scolded, "Not a quick nap here and there." Snape yawned again and nodded, not in the mood to argue. The bed, the couch, the table, it was all the same to him.
Snape slipped into his room, changed out of his robes quickly, put on his nightclothes, and snuggled into his bed. He had just made himself comfortable under the blankets when the door opened.
Dumbledore stood silhouetted in the doorway, a washcloth in his hand. Snape raised his eyebrow in question. His father tried to hide a smile and came over to sit next to him.
"You have ink marks on your face from the book," Dumbledore explained with a small grin. Snape really did look funny with the black lettering like tiny tattoos across his pale skin.
Snape rolled his eyes in exasperation but let Dumbledore run the damp cloth over his face to get rid of the marks.
"There," Dumbledore announced as he erased the last letters and pushed the dark hair away from Snape's eyes. "Perfect." Then he pulled the covers up to his son's neck and tucked the edges around him.
Snape debated telling him that he didn't need to be treated like a baby and decided against it. He didn't really mind the attention. No, not at all.
"Severus," Dumbledore said softly, knowing he was nearly asleep, "Will you be here tomorrow evening at eight? I want to talk to you." Snape nodded, sealing the promise into his memory.
"I'll be here."
"Good. Sleep well, child."
"You too."
***
The next morning, Black was still in a foul mood. He even dared to growl at two First Year Slytherin girls in Snape's presence, earning a dark glare from the wizard as he assured his students that the dog wouldn't bite them. If the mutt did, he promised them that he'd personally see the mongrel dragged off to the vet to be 'fixed'.
Black snarled at the Potions master but had never the less retreated to friendlier territory, cursing the man the entire way.
He remained sulky through dinner and even the appearance of Harry, Ron, and Hermione could not drag him out of his aggravated state.
Harry was concerned at his godfather's behavior. He had never seen Black like this before. The animagus was usually so laid back, he couldn't think what had happened to upset him.
Harry repressed a frustrated sigh; he wasn't sure what to do. Finally, he settled for casting a concerned look in Lupin's direction.
The Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor was one of his godfather's closest friends. He'd know what to do.
Lupin saw the look Harry sent him and titled his head in silent question. Harry motioned over to where Black was sitting, a bit apart from the group. The werewolf sighed and set his teacup down firmly on the table.
"Enough," he declared, turning to look back at his friend, "Sirius Black, what is the matter with you? You've been in a bad mood all day." Black blinked in surprise at the reprimanding words. Then he smiled tightly.
He recognized that tone. It was the 'You are acting like a git stop it or I'll hex you with multiple cheering charms' tone of Lupin's from their school days. He hadn't heard that tone in a long time.
Of course, the last time he heard it James hadn't snapped out of his gloom and doom mode quickly enough and Lupin had actually hexed him.
Unfortunately, he cast the spell a little hard. James ended up giggling like a maniac for three days straight. They had always taken that tone seriously after that.
"I'm being a prat. I'm sorry," Black admitted, moving closer to the others and excepting the cup of tea Harry handed him. Lupin nodded in exaggerated agreement, causing a real smile to finding its way to Black's lips. "I'm just aggravated."
"About?" Hermione queried as she passed him the sugar tongs and instantly regretting her curiosity when his eyes darkened again.
Black tapped the utensil against his cheek as he mulled over what to do. He knew it was practically a forbidden topic but, ah, what the hell. It would make for interesting conversation. And when had he ever been one to follow the rules?
"Have you ever wondered why Dumbledore keeps Snape on the staff despite obvious indications that he's in league with Voldermort?" Lupin looked confused at the topic of choice and took a sip of his tea while he pondered his reply. Ron shuddered at the name while Hermione stirred her drink thoughtfully.
But Harry shrugged and answered the question.
"Dumbledore said that he trusts him." Black snorted in detest. The Headmaster trusted easily; that didn't count.
And over the years Dumbledore was known to have very bad ideas from time to time.
The theme of 'Think Pink' for the Halloween dance during his fifth year, for example, had been one.
Letting Hagrid, ah, 'walk' Fluffy on the Quidditch field before a big match (did that monster leave some BIG droppings) had been another.
But in Black's opinion, placing trust in Snape had to be the worst.
"Did he tell you why he trusts him?" Black challenged his godson.
Harry bit his lip and shook his head. The Headmaster hadn't told him that. And he had asked too. Black smirked triumphantly and leaned forward.
"I'm going to tell you something," he began, lowering his voice, "that most people don't know or have been ordered to forget. I found out myself during the Christmas holidays of my First Year. This is what happened.
My father and your grandfather, Harry, James' dad, both worked for the Ministry of Magic. Our two families always spent Christmas together. Anyway, after dinner we were discussing classes and happened to complain about an incident that had happened right before break. It involved Snape and several nasty hexes.
Professor Kingsly, the Head of Gryffindor before McGonagal, had already left for Christmas. His family lived in Russia and he had gotten permission from Dumbledore to leave a few days early. Because of that, after Flinch broke us up, we were taken to the Headmaster to receive our punishment.
Dumbledore listened to everyone's side of the story. James and I backed up each other's version of the events. Snape had been alone at the time; no other student, Slytherin or otherwise, had seen what happened.
But in the end, Dumbledore chose the Snape's story over ours and gave us both a week of detention. Snape got off with a warning about fighting."
"I remember that," Lupin said softly. "You and James fumed about it for weeks."
"Did you start the fight?" Hermione broke in suddenly, looking sternly at Black. He brushed the accusation off. Who started the fight wasn't the point.
"That doesn't matter. The fact is that he chose Snape, a lone Slytherin, over us Gryffindors. Needless to say, we were not pleased. My father heard us complaining and asked what the Slytherin's name was. He thought he might know his parents if they worked for the Ministry. When we told him that the creep's names was 'Severus,' my father suddenly turned very pale.
Saying in a very grave tone that he had to talk to us, my father took James and I to the library and told us about the Headmaster's Severus." Ron scratched his head, thoroughly confused.
"What?" Black's eyes gleamed madly. His audience was captivated, waiting for him to explain.
"It turned out that Dumbledore had a son named Severus." Lupin grinned and shook his head. Black looked peeved at his reaction and Lupin coughed once to hide laughter.
"You almost had me there, Padfoot old boy. But everyone knows that Albus Dumbledore doesn't have any children." Black glared at his friend.
"He did so. His Severus was murdered when he was four years old." Hermione gasped and Ron placed his teacup shakily back on the table. Harry looked thoroughly shocked and Lupin paled.
"Poor Dumbledore," Hermione whispered, cutting through the silence. "It must have been so hard for him to lose his son."
"That's not my point," Black rushed on, "I'm talking about what happened six years later."
"What happen?" Ron asked, his eyes wide. Black's grin was crocodilian; like a cat who has caught the rodent he has been tracking.
"Severus Snape started Hogwarts and was sorted into Slytherin. What is the likely hood," Black said, leaning forward and lowering his voice to just above a whisper, "That another boy would start Hogwarts the year the dead child would have and happens to share a rather unique name?
My father told us that Dumbledore went slightly mad after the death of his Severus. It was actually illegal to mention Severus Dumbledore in the Headmaster's presence for fear that he would lose all grip on reality. And then suddenly a scrawny little boy with the name Severus is sorted into Slytherin and just happens to be the same age?" Black shook his head, his dark hair flying back and forth.
"I don't think so. Snape's real name is most likely not even Severus. He is probably the child of one of the two men who killed little Severus and his babysitter or another of Voldermort's early followers.
They changed his name so that Dumbledore would notice him. And why not? Dad told us that Dumbledore got back too late to save his son, but just in time to watch the killing spell be cast.
This Slytherin, marked to be evil but sharing the name of his son, he would be the Severus he saved."
TBC
Author's Note: Next time, why Dumbledore wanted to see Snape and an appearance by McGonagal. (No, she's not his mother)