Chapter 3: Confession

'You.'

'It was you.'

The words were soft and layered with varying meanings that he, in his exhausted frame of mind, failed to grasp. He merely stared at the Headmaster warily.

'When Professor Flitwick told me about the attack in his house and described to me his assailants, I thought it was you.'

He was galvanised. 'Did you know I had already joined the Dark Lord?'

Dumbledore hesitated, 'I had my suspicions. When I invited you to take on the Potions position in Hogwarts and you refused, I found it. . . odd.'

He laughed harshly, 'Because you knew no one else would accept me, despite my results.'

'Which are of course, outstanding. Few could be a Master of any subject, let alone Masters of Potions, Defence Against the Dark Arts and Charms.'

He waved his hand irritably and said acidly, 'We are not here to talk about my assets Headmaster, meager and unimpressive as they are to most people.'

Dumbledore gave a disconcertingly sharp look at him. He hoped that the look he returned was nonchalant enough. Bad enough to reveal his bitterness at the treatment he received from the wizarding society. It would be terrible to show the hollowness filling inside him.

Apparently, what Dumbledore saw pained him and caused his expression to sadden. 'Oh child.'

Curiously, he did not begrudge the old wizard calling him a child. He wondered if he ever were a child, and caught himself being maudlin.

Dumbledore continued in that infuriatingly wise (as it could only be described as such) voice of his, 'I had worried about you in school when I saw you consorting with Mr. Malfoy and the rest of his particular group. Yes, consorting. I am at least astute enough to know even by Slytherin standards, that Mr. Malfoy's is an elite group to which a member must prove himself worthy to join. I had thought, foolishly, that you would have learnt in time to understand the dire consequences. I forget that I myself have never experienced what it is like to be excluded from society and cannot rightly know what one does in these. . . conditions.'

No, he thought grimly, You'll never know.

It had been harder than he had calculated when he reached Dumbledore's office to spill out everything that he had done. He naturally knew it would be difficult for he was an intensely private man and hated the sense of invasion whenever someone scrutinised him too closely, yet the more he had told Dumbledore, the more he had found himself steeped in self-disgust. He was almost nauseous at some points when he spoke about the activities he had been assigned to accomplish.

Gods, did he really do all those things?

Small wonder that he felt drained of energy when he ended his account.

He was conscious that Dumbledore was studying him even as he kept his eyes closed. He could not bear the burden of pity he believed he would see in that man's eyes.

'Why did you do it?'

Whatever he had expected, it was not this question. He felt his blood leave his face. Uncertain of what Dumbledore meant and how to tread such dangerous waters, he deliberately chose the less complicated way out. He said flippantly, 'Well, I thought that my explaination was sufficient. I had no idea that when the Dark Lord called on me, it was to be at Professor Flitwick's. . .'

'That is not what I meant, and you know it.'

His heart pounded too rapidly for his liking. His stomach lurched erratically in his lower portion of the body. He warned himself to stay calm and collected. He counted his blood pulse, willing it to decrease. When he spoke again, he cringed slightly at the reflection of his feelings in his voice. Ill-disguised rage and a deep sense of loss. He must really be weary to allow his emotions to seep out of him and betray him.

'Why do you want to know?'

'I want to understand,' said the Headmaster softly.

The ludicrousness of the situation struck him. Here was the acknowledged greatest wizard in the whole world being cautious in his attitude toward a lowly minion of the Dark Lord. He laughed and took petty delight in seeing Dumbledore recoil. An empty pleasure, that was all that was left for him. Melancholy sank in.

'Understand? That is very Gryffindor of you I'm sure.' Dumbledore looked as though he were slapped. 'Whereas I am a Slytherin. Did you think I took up alliances with Malfoy and ultimately the Dark Lord because of noble sentiments and holy aspirations?' He snorted at his fit of twisted humour. 'No sir, I am a small-minded, cowardly, selfish person. I never had support in my life. I did not have the approval of my father. My peers in school were not. . . kind. I could not gain respect or friendliness for being myself, so I seized whatever way I could to get them. I joined the Death- Eaters for small-minded, cowardly, selfish reasons.'

There was a drawn-out pause when he finished.

This is it, he thought, He's going to send me to Azkaban.

Dumbledore nodded in resolution, 'If that were the case, why then did you come to me? Why do you want to leave the group? I am aware that you have given the whole, unvarnished truth. So, if you are small-minded, cowardly and selfish as you claim to be, what has brought you to me, to tell me everything?'

He was rendered speechless. 'I don't know,' he replied honestly. At Dumbledore's raised eyebrow, he tried to phrase his answer coherently, 'I don't know why or when I had this turn. . . I suppose I wanted the world to change,' he admitted, 'I don't approve of the Ministry and its methods. I thought. . . the Dark Lord was different. Only, he wasn't. I discovered this along the way. . . Please don't ask me to go into details. It's of no importance here. And then I saw nothing but the craving for power in every Death-Eater. We use each other to get what we want. . . And I also realised my error in judging my ability for.detachment of emotion and taste for torture. The victims. . . affected me. I didn't think I could care so much. I found myself. . . wrong.' It was all he managed to say.

'I see. What do you plan to do now?'

His amazement must have registered on his face for Dumbledore's appearance softened. 'My dear boy, do you think I'll call the Aurors?'

Yes, that was what he thought.

'Azkaban is for those who know no remorse. I know you will not harm another again. What purpose then is there to bring a repentant man to Azkaban? I for one will not do it.'

This evening was a tumultuous time of inexplicable turns and jolts. He felt his throat constrict in gratitude.

Dumbledore went on. 'Yet you are still in a precarious position. You have no wish to work for Voldemort anymore but if you do not return, I fear you will be hunted down and punished.'

'I will be killed,' he said flatly. So much for leaving his demons behind. Gritting his teeth as he steadied himself, he proposed, 'What if I return as a spy? Will I be of use to you and your resistance group in this way?'

'You will do that?' He noted that Dumbledore did not seem surprised.

He shrugged, 'It's all that I can do.'

'I can hide you away until this war is over. I promise that you will be safe.'

'That is not necessary. I have made my offer and plan to fulfil it if you agree to it.'

He wondered if he was imagining the shine in the Headmster's eyes.

'Very well. I'm confident you have the capabilities to convince Voldemort of your supposed loyalties. Thank you Severus. You'll be of valuable aid to us.'

He tilted his head in mock salutation. He was bound now to do it. He had disappointed himself. He would not disappoint the only person he now recognised as ever having been kind to him in his life.

Dumbledore sighed, 'An apology is necessary, if we are to be at peace with each other.'

He spoke up immediately, 'Of course Headmaster. I wish to convey my.' He stopped when Dumbledore raised a frail, thin hand freckled by old age.

'No, Severus. You misunderstand. I am the one who has to apologise.'

What?

Dumbledore was visibly struggling, to his increasing astonishment, 'I feel that I have neglected my own responsibility, to look after the well-being of every student, not least yourself Severus. I deliberately shut my eyes to what James and Sirius did to you. I should be there for you, as I was with Sirius when he lured you to Remus.'

He opened his mouth to protest, 'I do not need protecting Headmaster.'

'Granted. You were more than skilled in Defence Against the Dark Arts and you were not totally innocent yourself. But James and Sirius should also take the blame for what they've done, yet I have not sounded them out properly. It is a failing, I see that now.'

He gaped at Dumbledore who was renowned for being infallible.

'You never had any guidance in this world, even as a child. You should have had someone. But you worked your own path without help, without understanding. You could have fallen into the abyss. I would have despaired. But you climbed back out. You alone saved yourself. It takes considerable courage to learn your mistake, more so to arrange this. risking of yourself to help the world which you owe nothing to and which may owe its salvation to you. I'm proud of you.'

Dumbledore got up from his seat and placed his hand on his shoulder. He froze in shock at the warm gesture. When people touched him, they were almost certainly tormenting him or wounding him.

'I'm sorry Severus. I'm truly sorry.' The hurt in that grand wizard's voice was unmistakably sincere.

Something broke within him. Pain pierced through his heart and guts as though it were corporeal. He began shivering.

Weak, he scolded himself, Weak!

Dumbledore reached forward to embrace him. It was the sorrow pouring out from those clear blue eyes that prevented him from pushing Dumbledore completely. Instead, he instinctively pressed his back against the chair. He shook his head mutely, trying to convey to the man opposite him that he was not ready for comfort. He was afraid that he would break down in Dumbledore's arms.

Dumbledore understood. Straightening his body, he watched gravely as the younger wizard continued shivering. He wondered if he would ever be warm again.

~***~

Author's Note:

frozenfemale: Hi there! If the story seems to lack warmth, it's because it's written from Snape's POV. He's not a warm person and doesn't view himself with self-pity or self-compassion, at least in my opinion. Instead, he's filled with self-loathing, hence a ruthless ability to detach himself from humanity and all its attachments. He also doesn't express emotions well or wants to express them at all. Hope that explains it.

And thanks for everyone's reviews!