The Story of Severus: Chapter Four
Disclaimer: J.K. Rowling owns everything.
By: Susan
Summary: Snape's past has been left a mystery. Why did he join Lord Voldemort? Why did Dumbledore clear him? Did he have a relationship with Lily Potter? How was he connected to Lily and James? And what about the prophecy?
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That same night, Lily Potter settled into her bed, still confounded by the words she'd heard. She'd heard one too many shockers, in her opinion; first, and foremost, she was pregnant, but her old headmaster had figured it out before herself. A big shocker, that one was. Her childhood friend had joined forces with the Dark Lord And, the child she was carrying could be the child that would vanquish the Dark Lord. Lord Voldemort was a murderer of the innocent, a man who tortured others for fun. The child she was carrying inside of her could be the one to destroy him.
Lily wanted to speak with Alice Longbottom more than anyone, because she was the other possible answer to the prophesy. Dumbledore had obviously gone around to anyone newlywed who was on their side against Voldemort, because of the lines of "Born to those who have thrice defied him." She hesitated in her thoughts. Thrice defied him? It couldn't have been her then. She'd never before defied Lord Voldemort.
"Lily?" James interrupted quietly. She looked up to find him standing in his nightclothes, just watching her. "You planning on going to sleep in your robes?"
Lily looked down at her emerald robes, and a hint of a smile appeared on her lips.
"Excuse me, James," she said sardonically, "I'm a bit preoccupied."
James looked hurt. "Well, I certainly didn't mean it like that," he said as she stood and took a nightgown from her chest of drawers. She sighed.
"Oh, James, dear, I know that. It's just…" She paused and began to change into the nightgown as he collapsed onto the bed.
"Lily, I know that you've been through a lot tonight. But don't pretend that I haven't been through it either. Just because I don't have the child inside of me, doesn't mean I'm not feeling what you are."
"Well, I certainly hope you don't have the child inside of you. That would be a bit strange, in my opinion." She sat down on the bed next to him, pulling the clip out of her hair as he sat up straight against the headboard.
He smiled at her. "It would be, wouldn't it?" They were silent for a few moments as James wrapped his arms around her. Lily couldn't tell when she'd ever felt more safe.
"James?"
"Mmm?" he responded, his words slightly muffled because his face had taken a position inside of her fiery red hair.
"We haven't defied Lord Voldemort three times." He stopped, pulled away, and stared straight at her.
"Born to those who have thrice defied him," he whispered slowly. "We barely escaped with our lives the last time we came face to face," James said quietly, remembering the battle with Voldemort and his Death Eaters that had occurred only a couple of weeks before their marriage. There had been many casualties during that battle. Himself, Lily, Sirius, Dumbledore, Alice and Frank Longbottom, and Mundungus Fletcher had just barely escaped with their lives.
"Lily, nobody has defied him three times." There was awe in his voice, imagining the possibility of escaping from the evil of Lord Voldemort.
Lily looked down at her stomach, hardly believing that there was a child growing inside of her. "This child," she said softly, "he might."
"But only if we do first. If we defy him three times," he said.
"What about Alice and Frank?"
"I guess if they do the same, their child has the same chance as ours."
"The Dark Lord will mark him as his equal," Lily said quietly. "He chooses which child."
"Yes, I presume he does get that choice…Lily, that means it's a boy, doesn't it?" James asked her, excitement in his voice. She looked down at her stomach once more.
"I suppose so," she responded.
"A boy," he said proudly. "We're to have a son, one who will do great things one day."
Lily smiled at his happiness. "He needs a name," she said, prodding him.
"A name?" James looked confused. "You're asking me?"
"Sure," she said wryly. "Didn't we once promise each other that I would name the girls, and you the boys?"
"That was ages ago," James said incredulously. "You remember that?"
"I remember a lot of things you might not," Lily said smiling.
"So I choose?" he asked, in obvious shock. "And what if you don't care for my choice?"
"I'll make you change it," she said, kissing him softly.
"So, in other words, I make suggestions and you choose?"
"You could say it that way," she said, and began to laugh.
"How about…" he paused, searching intently, "You know, it's a bit early to be naming our son, isn't it?"
"Oh, James," Lily shook her head, "What would you want to name him?"
"Well, I suppose…How about…Victor?"
Lily looked at him, dismay written all over her face.
"Victor?"
"Just a suggestion," James said meekly, noticing the expression on her face, "Clifford?"
Lily just stared at him.
"I suppose not. Don't twitch your lip like that, it's a bit frightening," he ordered her, and the two began to laugh. "Er…Egan?"
"I should hope not."
"Why, what's wrong with Egan?" James said defensively, then stopped when he saw her face, "All right then, forget it."
"How about Daniel?" Lily asked him.
"Excuse me, I thought I was making the suggestions," James chided her. "And no. Daniel is a sissy name."
"A sissy name?"
"You don't remember Daniel Caddy from Hufflepuff?"
"Right then, next name," Lily said laughing.
"How about Harry?" James asked. They both stopped at looked at each other.
"Harry Potter," Lily said quietly. "A bit of a nice ring to it."
"See, I am good for some things," James bragged. "Harry?"
"I like it," Lily said, "Funny, I didn't think I'd like something you picked," Lily teased him. He leaned over to kiss her happily.
"I'm glad we can still joke about things," James told her seriously, pushing his glasses back up onto his nose. "Especially during these times."
"Oh, James," Lily hugged him. "Thank you."
They were silent for a couple of moments, just holding each other, taking in the feeling of safety and security.
"Even if he's not the boy the prophecy speaks of, Lily, he's going to ours. Our own child. Harry."
Lily put a hand on his cheek, and used the other to tenderly stroke the back of his neck, where skin met hair.
"I still can't believe this," she whispered, inches away from his face. "I can't believe I'm carrying the child of the famous James Potter, the arrogant fool I hated all through our schooling."
James gave her a crooked smile. "Well, I'm irresistible; I knew it was only a matter of time before you'd take a liking to me."
Lily snorted at his smug words. "Well, that wasn't particularly what I was aiming for."
"But you were thinking it," he teased, sliding an arm comfortably around her waist.
"Actually, I was thinking that I hope our son never acts the way you once did," she said dryly, "but that he acts as brave and intelligent as you've proven to me you can be in the fight against Lord Voldemort."
James turned a brilliant shade of pink and kissed her very soundly on the lips.
"Neither can live while the other survives," he said quietly, taking her hands in his own. "Our son will have to be brave and intelligent in order to fulfill that."
They were silent for a few moments, just relishing the comfort of being together.
"James, I'm afraid." Her voice was quivering, and James quickly put his arms around her soothingly.
"We all are," he whispered in her ear, "We all are."
xxx
It had been more than nine months since the marriage of Lily and James, and an unrequited lover by the name of Severus Snape had gone into a serious case of withdrawal. He'd been humiliated, insulted, detested by the man that was now the husband of his one true love.
Life wasn't fair. And he knew that. He also knew he had to someday accept that. But still, there were nights when Severus Snape could not stand it anymore. Nights when he wanted death, destruction. When he wanted to take his anger out on someone or something.
One of those many nights, many months ago, he'd gone on a walk, and witnessed a meeting with the most feared wizards in the world, Lord Voldemort.
He hadn't meant to go into the graveyard where Lord Voldemort and his loyal followers had met that cold night. Severus hadn't meant to stumble upon the torture of a female muggle. Severus hadn't meant to witness the cold anger and hatred of Lord Voldemort firsthand.
But he had. And it had changed his life forever.
Angry with Lily and angry with himself, he had walked into that graveyard, with the intention of passing through it instead of going around, and head into a nearby pub. He was preoccupied with his thoughts, most of which were of Lily, some extra furious ones of her husband.
Lord Voldemort was standing, with a circle of his loyal followers surrounding him. They couldn't be seen nor heard from the gates of the graveyard, but they became increasingly visible as Severus approached them.
Lord Voldemort had powers beyond any wizard's wildest dreams, gained from the expense of many. He had the ability to read thoughts and hear the minds slightest inklings, and when Severus Snape passed by quietly, he used them to his advantage.
His evil seemed to radiate in the around him and his followers. It started from him, the center point of all things evil. His hair was dark, he was thin, and his visage appeared to once have been that of a good looking man.
All evidence of The Dark Lord's fine looks had left him, it was apparent. His lips were formed into a snarl, his gleaming, hating eyes narrowed, and his bony fingered hand was upright and outstretched, holding out his long wand.
Severus Snape had been nervous. All he'd wanted was a bit of alcohol to cure his nerves and impede his thoughts of Lily, but instead he'd stumbled across the man that most of the wizarding world had begun, in the last couple of months, to fear above all men.
"You," he'd called snidely to Snape. The glee in his voice from the writhing muggle on the floor was evident. "Your name?"
"Er…What?"
"This man dares question me," Lord Voldemort had laughed in disbelief. "He knows not who I am." Snape stared at the muggle woman, twitching in the darkness of the night, surrounded by men in dark cloaks. Thinking for a moment, he realized that his probability for life past now was low.
"I'm not thick. Only Voldemort and his followers torture muggles in plain view."
"Plain view?" He had said, cackling and gesturing around the graveyard. "If it was in plain view, I doubt you would've traveled through on your way to the pub. IT's been months since the Daily Prophet and the wizarding world discovered of my…vendetta. You didn't see me. Nobody lies to Lord Voldemort."
Snape looked at him, shocked. "How did you know I was on my way to the pub?"
"The same way I know your name is Severus Snape," he hissed evilly, narrowing his eyes further.
"Then perhaps you know my whole history?" Snape replied sarcastically, trying to feign bravery and disinterest.
"Perhaps." Snape looked around at the hooded men nervously, unable to tell where face and cloak met. All he spotted was darkness.
Even though there were at least ten cloaked figures around them, not one had spoken. Snape glanced around tensely, trying to figure a way out.
"I'm meeting someone, and I can't-"
"Liar."
"I'm not-"
"You aren't meeting anyone. You live alone, worshipping your memories of…Oh my…" he paused, letting the beginnings of a diabolic grin spread across his skeletal face. "How interesting." Snape's eyes widened. "Does anyone know the stories of the famous Lily and James Potter?" A thick coat of disgust covered his voice.
The followers were silent, and replacing the evil in the air was a cloud of fear. Fear of being spoken to, perhaps. Lord Voldemort seemed to sense it.
"Oh, dear Severus, nobody wants to answer," he said faking concern and sympathy as he turned to Snape, "So why don't we tell them about the Potters?"
Snape was silent. He needn't reveal anything.
"Severus?" He raised an eyebrow. "I daresay you don't wish to hear about my last dealings with the Potters." He turned back towards Snape, "Do you?"
Snape, again, didn't respond. He stared around at the blanket of darkness, wondering how he was being played.
"Severus thinks himself better than I," Voldemort hissed, "But in truth, we're both equals when it comes to the Potters."
Snape tried not to let Voldemort take notice of his curiousity, but he didn't succeed.
"Oh, perhaps you are interested?"
"Er…If you let me through to the pub, then…er…sure."
Voldemort surveyed him carefully. "Lily and James Potter are in league with Albus Dumbledore, as we all know." His voice was thick with disgust as the name Albus passed over his tongue. "I've heard a tale, from one of my loyal followers, that a prophecy has been made, one that could possibly change everything." He checked to see if he had Snape's rapt attention.
"A boy will be born in July, to parents who have thrice defied me," Voldemort said slowly. Snape looked around. What did this have to do with him?
"Before the prophecy was made, there was a battle between these, that which I call Death Eaters," he swept his around at the cloaked figures, "And the followers of Dumbledore, who call themselves The Order of The Phoenix. I suppose you know of this from Lily Potter?"
Snape stared at him. "Er…No…actually."
Voldemort narrowed his eyes, "Well, then, it was a terrible battle," he said, his voice filling with glee. "Death and destruction all about, like maggots on a bit of rotting fruit."
Snape suddenly felt the urge to vomit. This man was a torturer of muggles, and he talked about death like it was humorous!
"James Potter," he said quietly, trying to keep the anger down to a minimum, "Is perhaps who I loathe the most, below Dumbledore, of course." He shook his head, "He and his mudblood wife managed to flee from my grasp, because Albus Dumbledore managed to put himself between them and I, giving them a chance to escape."
This was the point in time, where, if there was a table present, Lord Voldemort would've banged upon it in anger and frustration. As there was no table in the graveyard, he began to take his anger out upon the muggle. Snape looked on, afraid, as the words he yearned to say had fearfully stepped off of his tongue.
"Now, Severus, what do you think of James Potter?" Snape's eyes widened, and before he could stop himself, the pent up anger and hatred of James flew out of his mouth as fast as a Golden Snitch.
"The arrogant, foul, thickheaded git!" He let out a string of incoherent profanities, then continued with, "The ruddy Quidditch playing idiot! I hate h-"
He stopped and stared into Lord Voldemort's flaming red, amused eyes.
"You forgot to mention "mudblood stealing," Voldemort said, beginning to laugh. Snape suddenly realized that he was in a huge amount of trouble, and he looked down at the ground.
"Now, Severus Snape…I can offer you many things," Voldemort said calmly, "Power, magical abilities, anything your heart desires. Even…Lily Potter."
Snape looked at him fearfully. He couldn't, he wouldn't make this choice. He would rather die than-
"What do you say, Severus? What do you say?"
"I…" he stuttered, "I…er…" If he hurt James in any way, Lily would never want to be with him, Lily would hate him. God, he loved her so much...
"I…I can't…" he said breathlessly, "I can't do this…"
Voldemort gave him a look of pure disgust. "You don't love her enough to make her yours, Severus Snape? I can give her to you, if you join me."
"I won't do it," he said stoutly, and turned on his heel and began to run, stumbling over gravestones and tree roots as tried to hurry out of the cemetery.
As suddenly as he had begun to run, he was back where Lord Voldemort was, running through the air in front of the cackling Death Eaters and their leader. Lord Voldemort's wand was up, and he gently let Snape glide to the ground. Snape closed his eyes in terror, in fear of the humiliation
"Now, Severus, you've seen too much. I'll let you go home tonight and reconsider," Voldemort said, as if he was speaking to a child, "And tomorrow morning, I'll call upon you, and you'll tell me your decision. Let it be known, I only take one answer."
Snape opened his eyes, wanting to scream, but when he did so, he found he was in his manor, in his bedroom. He stared around breathlessly, more frightened than he'd ever been. Immediately, he began to change into his nightclothes, visibly shaking from the confrontation with the Dark Lord. As he settled into bed, he automatically grabbed the picture in the golden frame on his bedside table.
It had been a ritual for years, even during his time at Hogwarts. He'd bewitched the picture to make it one of his mother and father to everyone who glanced upon it but himself, so that his fellow Slytherins would never know that he in fact stared lovingly at a picture of himself and Lily Potter every night.
He traced the outline of Lily's face with his finger. She was smiling and laughing as he made comical faces for the camera. Her green eyes flashed hilariously as he stuck out his tongue and pulled on both of his ears, making him look remarkably like a white squirrel. She had her arm around his neck, her red hair shining, his own dark hair overshadowed by her brilliance. They had sat for the picture in the North Tower one night, many years ago.
As he stared at her longingly, a lonely tear slid down his pale cheek. Their friendship had been snatched from him by James Potter. He slammed the picture down on the bedside table, stood and stared out the window as more tears joined the lonely first one.
"All right," he had shouted to the night, to the stars twinkling above him, to the sky, "All right," he had yelled, tears shooting down his cheeks as he made his decision. "Please, please, just give her to me…I'll do anything for one more chance…"
xxx