One Young Heart

Chapter 25: Lost

A harsh red light from the approaching dawn created dark, menacing shadows as Severus walked back to the castle. He would have noted how perfectly the day matched his mood if he had not been so busy trying not to limp. A faint buzz of interest was still running around the school at Harry Potter's latest return, a ripple of sound that swirled around the potions master as he stood in the hallway, then died away, leaving him utterly alone.

He strode up to the gargoyle that barred Dumbledore's office from the rest of the school, slipped inside, and was arranged neatly in a chair, a contemptuous sneer on his face, by the time the Headmaster returned from the infirmary.

I don't suppose you are planning to tell me why you went after them?

Not as such, no.

Not only did you convince me to leave them there, but you, knowing my decision, deliberately freed them anyway, and now you will not tell me why? Some would call that insubordination, Severus.

Tell it to the Minister. I'm sure he would be only too happy to lock me up. I seem to recall that you did not favor that option at the time.

The old man sighed faintly. I would never imprison you against your will.

Really? That's an interesting statement, when you consider how long I've been trapped in this castle. Nearly twenty years, if I'm correct.

Dumbledore didn't move a muscle. He had said those words, years ago, to keep the man from jumping. He had assumed that the natural curiosity, the incredible mind that lent Severus his sharp tongue, and his aristocratic tendencies would overcome his pain and despair, given time. Twenty years later, and the only actual improvement in the potion master's mood was the day he'd finally stopped throwing things at staff members who tried to chat.

A single sharp movement, and Snape leaned across the desk, his words cold and precise. This is your warning. Three months, and then you can fight your own bloody war. I don't know where I'll go, but I won't be taking any more orders from you, old man.

Then we will lose.

Severus laughed contemptuously. You will lose, and you always would have. He is taking over America. He has captured Africa. They worship him as a god there, did you know that? The African muggles worship him. He has showed muggles that wizards exist, and those muggles will seek to kill you. With guns. He was always going to win, and it becomes increasingly clear that you cannot survive this. He will not make the error he made before, and even if you completely destroy his body and spirit, it will become increasingly difficult to undo that which he has done with every passing day. You are sitting in a fortress, but even here, it is getting dark.

He was halfway to the door to his personal passage before he added, Three months!

Slipping into the passageway, he tripped over Hermione Granger, curled up in the passage, eyes huge. I got lost. She said. There are many passages.

Looking at the girl, Severus felt an inexplicable emotion. I lost my way years ago. He said, with a small, sad smile lost in the endless dark. There are many fates, and I picked the wrong one it seems.

But you are not lost alone.