Chapter 3
The Closet and the Candle
How all of his possessions always became so spread out across a whole room was always a mystery to Harry. He didn't like to spend very much time in this room of Snape's house especially, since it just seemed to have an eerie feeling to it. All of the books he usually stashed away in his trunk were scattered about on the floor: some in corners, others under the bed, and Harry even found one in one of the drawers in the dresser.
Harry searched the whole room from high to low to see if he had forgotten anything. He checked in the drawers, under the bed, in between the mattress and the box spring, on the floor-- until the only place he hadn't checked was the closet. Harry walked over to it and pulled the doors open. It was then that he realized he hadn't ever opened those doors. Inside of them were piles and piles of neatly stacked boxes. Curiosity got to him and Harry started rummaging around them. A dusty candle in a brass candleholder caught his attention because it was faintly burning. Harry's curiosity got the best of him. Picking it up and dusting it off, he could see a fancy engraving reading:
The Snape Family Ever-Burning Candle
The slight amount of smoke that was coming from the dim flame seemed to take shape. Harry looked closely and could tell it was the shape of a man's face. It started talking in a monotone voice:
"State your question of the Snape family here
Whether it be happy or sad
Involving blood or tear
This family dates back to the earliest of times
But I can answer anything
By acting it out, and not with mimes
I have recorded every move
Of all the generations
Rough or smooth
Ask only one question
Choose wisely, my friend
Lest you suffer a severe case of indigestion
So come on and ask away
For I cannot stay here all day."
Harry gaped at the smoke. So he could ask anything about any one of Snape's relatives? He thought about potential questions: Why is Snape so foul? Where do those overactive oil glands come from? Has he always been so unfair to people from his own House at Hogwarts? What was Snape like when he was younger? However, he couldn't think of a better question to ask about than the staircase. He phrased the question in his head. "Well? What is your question?"
"Why does Severus Snape keep the staircase in his house so clean when everything else is grungy?" Harry asked the face made of smoke. It thickened and enveloped Harry. He could feel himself spinning around in circles until August 31, 1972 appeared in front of his eyes. The dense smoke faded away, leaving Harry in front of a well kempt yard and house that he recognized as Snape's front yard in its prime. Harry walked up the sidewalk where the door immediately opened for him when he reached it. He walked inside.
The inside was as well polished as the outside. Everything was dusted, the robes and coats that had been piled in Snape's entryway were put away, the shelves that lined the walls were covered in homey trinkets instead of potions, and the spotless room in front of him seemed bigger somehow. Harry wondered how this could be Snape's house, and Harry couldn't imagine his Potions master living there. He started looking closer at the things on the wall when he heard yelling coming from up the steps. Harry jumped, but ran up the stairs.
"He's not going to Hogwarts!" came a male voice.
"He is too! Severus received that letter weeks ago and just now you mention that you don't want him to go?!" shrieked a woman's voice. Harry had gotten up to the top of the steps now, and he saw a man and a woman looking at each other, seething. The man was an exact replica of Snape himself: tall; thin; hook-nosed, and he had long, stringy, greasy hair. The woman, on the other hand, was quite pretty. She had long, wavy auburn hair that fell to her waist and her face was perfectly proportioned with creamy, blemish-less skin. Her eyes lit up with spirit, especially when she was mad.
"I want him to go to Durmstrang! It has much more quality in a learning experience. Besides, I don't like that Albus Dumbledore. He trusts Mudbloods for heaven's sake!"
"I wouldn't say your friend, who just happens to be the headmaster at Durmstrang is any better! Dumbledore is a good man, and he would have been the best Minister of Magic we ever had if he had taken the job. Hogwarts needs someone like that around."
"Are you aware of what Dumbledore has done to banish the Dark Arts?"
"Rightfully so. Ever since you joined up with that Dark Lord, you've done everything he tells you to do!"
The man slapped the woman across the face. "I won't have you questioning my actions," he hissed at her through gritted teeth. He stormed down the steps and Harry heard the door slam. The woman had tears coming from her eyes as she put her hand up to her cheek where she had been hit. A boy that Harry knew as a much younger Severus Snape walked out of a room Harry recognized as his own at Snape's house.
"Severus, darling, did you hear that?" All he did was nod. "Oh, I'm so sorry!" she exclaimed, hugging him tightly to her.
The smoke came back, and Harry felt himself swirling around and around again. The scene in front of him dissolved and Harry found himself five years later, this time in the kitchen. Snape stood in front of Harry, a younger image of the current professor. He was looking at his mother with a grave expression.
"Severus, your father has made some...wrong choices. He has gone to help Voldemort for life."
"Won't he be back?"
"I thought he would be proud of you and come back when you received your prefect badge." She sighed. "I guess not. I'm not sure if he'll come back or not, but please, whatever you do, don't follow in his footsteps."
"I won't, Mother."
Snape had an expression of great admiration and love towards his mother when the scene dissolved. Harry saw the smoke come back, and again, he was on top of the stairs. Snape and his mother were on the bottom of the steps, looking at the door in fear. The door burst open. Harry saw Snape's father standing in the doorway with none other than Lord Voldemort at his side. "Lydia, I'm home!" he said in a strangely high voice. "And I've brought a visitor."
Harry saw Snape's mother walk bravely forward. "Lucas, where have you been? I've been wanting you to come home." Harry walked down the stairs so that he would get a better view. He saw Lydia facing her tall, devilish husband with a great air of confidence. She was ignoring Voldemort.
Lucas laughed shrilly. "You've been wanting me to come home? Somehow I doubt that. Now, this is Lord Voldemort, a friend of mine. He would like you and our lovely son..."he took the time to look at the younger Snape and grin maliciously "...to join us in his growing group of Death Eaters."
Lydia looked at Voldemort now. "I'll never join you," she said coolly and calmly. "You have wrecked havoc on too many wizard and witch's lives. You may have caught my dim-witted husband in your web, but you'll never get me."
"What did you call me?" Lucas asked threateningly.
"I called you dim-witted," she replied calmly.
Lucas stepped forward and shoved her backwards on the stairs. Harry jumped back instinctively. Severus Snape jumped forward, but Voldemort had held him back. "It would be easier joining me," the Dark Lord hissed menacingly, loud enough for everyone to hear. Snape made another attempt at getting away, without any success.
Her husband now had his hands around Lydia's neck. "No wife of mine calls me dim-witted without paying the price..."
"Lucas, step back. I'll take care of her." Voldemort stepped forward, throwing Snape into the closet door, where he hit his head with a dull thud. Obediently, Snape's father leapt back, leaving a clear path between him and Lydia. He had his wand in hand. "You refuse to join me?" he asked, extremely calm, his wand pointed at her. She looked fearful, but still proud.
"Yes," she replied, looking him straight in the eyes and making sure she didn't let show any of her fear.
"Then, I am afraid, like Lucas said, you'll have to pay the price. You could have been valuable to my group, but we couldn't have a disobedient Death Eater now could we? Say your last words."
"I love you, Severus," she said, looking at her son with loving eyes.
"Isn't that touching?" A sneer appeared on the Dark Lord's face that made Harry cringe. "She said she loves you," he said, turning to Snape. The sarcastic comment caused Lucas to laugh coldly. "Avada Kedavra!" Green light shot out of the end of Voldemort's wand and hit Lydia head-on. She keeled over, and was dead before she hit the floor.
"NO! Mother!" Snape screamed and ran to her side, pushing Voldemort out of the way. "Mother!" Tears were flowing freely from his face. He was kneeling by her body, which was sprawled out on the staircase. He kept on sobbing.
"That same fate will come to you, Severus," Voldemort said, "if you don't join me and my Death Eaters. Which path do you choose?"
Snape still sobbed at the feet of Voldemort, where his mother lay, but he couldn't seem to speak. Harry could see a look of hard concentration on his face. "Answer me!" Voldemort shouted. "Crucio!" Snape writhed in pain, and he screamed at the top of his lungs.
"Yes," he managed to choke out in a weak voice, "I'll follow you."
"Good. I'm glad you have come to your senses, Severus..."
The smoke enveloped Harry one last time before he found himself still in Snape's house, but with the closet and the candle still faintly burning in front of him.
The Closet and the Candle
How all of his possessions always became so spread out across a whole room was always a mystery to Harry. He didn't like to spend very much time in this room of Snape's house especially, since it just seemed to have an eerie feeling to it. All of the books he usually stashed away in his trunk were scattered about on the floor: some in corners, others under the bed, and Harry even found one in one of the drawers in the dresser.
Harry searched the whole room from high to low to see if he had forgotten anything. He checked in the drawers, under the bed, in between the mattress and the box spring, on the floor-- until the only place he hadn't checked was the closet. Harry walked over to it and pulled the doors open. It was then that he realized he hadn't ever opened those doors. Inside of them were piles and piles of neatly stacked boxes. Curiosity got to him and Harry started rummaging around them. A dusty candle in a brass candleholder caught his attention because it was faintly burning. Harry's curiosity got the best of him. Picking it up and dusting it off, he could see a fancy engraving reading:
The Snape Family Ever-Burning Candle
The slight amount of smoke that was coming from the dim flame seemed to take shape. Harry looked closely and could tell it was the shape of a man's face. It started talking in a monotone voice:
"State your question of the Snape family here
Whether it be happy or sad
Involving blood or tear
This family dates back to the earliest of times
But I can answer anything
By acting it out, and not with mimes
I have recorded every move
Of all the generations
Rough or smooth
Ask only one question
Choose wisely, my friend
Lest you suffer a severe case of indigestion
So come on and ask away
For I cannot stay here all day."
Harry gaped at the smoke. So he could ask anything about any one of Snape's relatives? He thought about potential questions: Why is Snape so foul? Where do those overactive oil glands come from? Has he always been so unfair to people from his own House at Hogwarts? What was Snape like when he was younger? However, he couldn't think of a better question to ask about than the staircase. He phrased the question in his head. "Well? What is your question?"
"Why does Severus Snape keep the staircase in his house so clean when everything else is grungy?" Harry asked the face made of smoke. It thickened and enveloped Harry. He could feel himself spinning around in circles until August 31, 1972 appeared in front of his eyes. The dense smoke faded away, leaving Harry in front of a well kempt yard and house that he recognized as Snape's front yard in its prime. Harry walked up the sidewalk where the door immediately opened for him when he reached it. He walked inside.
The inside was as well polished as the outside. Everything was dusted, the robes and coats that had been piled in Snape's entryway were put away, the shelves that lined the walls were covered in homey trinkets instead of potions, and the spotless room in front of him seemed bigger somehow. Harry wondered how this could be Snape's house, and Harry couldn't imagine his Potions master living there. He started looking closer at the things on the wall when he heard yelling coming from up the steps. Harry jumped, but ran up the stairs.
"He's not going to Hogwarts!" came a male voice.
"He is too! Severus received that letter weeks ago and just now you mention that you don't want him to go?!" shrieked a woman's voice. Harry had gotten up to the top of the steps now, and he saw a man and a woman looking at each other, seething. The man was an exact replica of Snape himself: tall; thin; hook-nosed, and he had long, stringy, greasy hair. The woman, on the other hand, was quite pretty. She had long, wavy auburn hair that fell to her waist and her face was perfectly proportioned with creamy, blemish-less skin. Her eyes lit up with spirit, especially when she was mad.
"I want him to go to Durmstrang! It has much more quality in a learning experience. Besides, I don't like that Albus Dumbledore. He trusts Mudbloods for heaven's sake!"
"I wouldn't say your friend, who just happens to be the headmaster at Durmstrang is any better! Dumbledore is a good man, and he would have been the best Minister of Magic we ever had if he had taken the job. Hogwarts needs someone like that around."
"Are you aware of what Dumbledore has done to banish the Dark Arts?"
"Rightfully so. Ever since you joined up with that Dark Lord, you've done everything he tells you to do!"
The man slapped the woman across the face. "I won't have you questioning my actions," he hissed at her through gritted teeth. He stormed down the steps and Harry heard the door slam. The woman had tears coming from her eyes as she put her hand up to her cheek where she had been hit. A boy that Harry knew as a much younger Severus Snape walked out of a room Harry recognized as his own at Snape's house.
"Severus, darling, did you hear that?" All he did was nod. "Oh, I'm so sorry!" she exclaimed, hugging him tightly to her.
The smoke came back, and Harry felt himself swirling around and around again. The scene in front of him dissolved and Harry found himself five years later, this time in the kitchen. Snape stood in front of Harry, a younger image of the current professor. He was looking at his mother with a grave expression.
"Severus, your father has made some...wrong choices. He has gone to help Voldemort for life."
"Won't he be back?"
"I thought he would be proud of you and come back when you received your prefect badge." She sighed. "I guess not. I'm not sure if he'll come back or not, but please, whatever you do, don't follow in his footsteps."
"I won't, Mother."
Snape had an expression of great admiration and love towards his mother when the scene dissolved. Harry saw the smoke come back, and again, he was on top of the stairs. Snape and his mother were on the bottom of the steps, looking at the door in fear. The door burst open. Harry saw Snape's father standing in the doorway with none other than Lord Voldemort at his side. "Lydia, I'm home!" he said in a strangely high voice. "And I've brought a visitor."
Harry saw Snape's mother walk bravely forward. "Lucas, where have you been? I've been wanting you to come home." Harry walked down the stairs so that he would get a better view. He saw Lydia facing her tall, devilish husband with a great air of confidence. She was ignoring Voldemort.
Lucas laughed shrilly. "You've been wanting me to come home? Somehow I doubt that. Now, this is Lord Voldemort, a friend of mine. He would like you and our lovely son..."he took the time to look at the younger Snape and grin maliciously "...to join us in his growing group of Death Eaters."
Lydia looked at Voldemort now. "I'll never join you," she said coolly and calmly. "You have wrecked havoc on too many wizard and witch's lives. You may have caught my dim-witted husband in your web, but you'll never get me."
"What did you call me?" Lucas asked threateningly.
"I called you dim-witted," she replied calmly.
Lucas stepped forward and shoved her backwards on the stairs. Harry jumped back instinctively. Severus Snape jumped forward, but Voldemort had held him back. "It would be easier joining me," the Dark Lord hissed menacingly, loud enough for everyone to hear. Snape made another attempt at getting away, without any success.
Her husband now had his hands around Lydia's neck. "No wife of mine calls me dim-witted without paying the price..."
"Lucas, step back. I'll take care of her." Voldemort stepped forward, throwing Snape into the closet door, where he hit his head with a dull thud. Obediently, Snape's father leapt back, leaving a clear path between him and Lydia. He had his wand in hand. "You refuse to join me?" he asked, extremely calm, his wand pointed at her. She looked fearful, but still proud.
"Yes," she replied, looking him straight in the eyes and making sure she didn't let show any of her fear.
"Then, I am afraid, like Lucas said, you'll have to pay the price. You could have been valuable to my group, but we couldn't have a disobedient Death Eater now could we? Say your last words."
"I love you, Severus," she said, looking at her son with loving eyes.
"Isn't that touching?" A sneer appeared on the Dark Lord's face that made Harry cringe. "She said she loves you," he said, turning to Snape. The sarcastic comment caused Lucas to laugh coldly. "Avada Kedavra!" Green light shot out of the end of Voldemort's wand and hit Lydia head-on. She keeled over, and was dead before she hit the floor.
"NO! Mother!" Snape screamed and ran to her side, pushing Voldemort out of the way. "Mother!" Tears were flowing freely from his face. He was kneeling by her body, which was sprawled out on the staircase. He kept on sobbing.
"That same fate will come to you, Severus," Voldemort said, "if you don't join me and my Death Eaters. Which path do you choose?"
Snape still sobbed at the feet of Voldemort, where his mother lay, but he couldn't seem to speak. Harry could see a look of hard concentration on his face. "Answer me!" Voldemort shouted. "Crucio!" Snape writhed in pain, and he screamed at the top of his lungs.
"Yes," he managed to choke out in a weak voice, "I'll follow you."
"Good. I'm glad you have come to your senses, Severus..."
The smoke enveloped Harry one last time before he found himself still in Snape's house, but with the closet and the candle still faintly burning in front of him.
