Harry woke with a start. Where on earth was he? He pulled himself from a desk, groggy and exhausted and confused. The room was dark, and he was shivering with cold. Where was he?
He suddenly remembered. The Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom, where he'd gone to hide and study. Everyone else was celebrating in Hogsmeade before the upcoming holiday season, enjoying the recent snowfall, or otherwise occupying himself, and he was behind in some subjects. Professor Drecorum had given him clearance to use the classroom whenever he liked, and somehow he'd managed to fall asleep, smudging the ink on his assignment for transfiguration with his face.
Looking up, he noticed a small crack of light that came from where her office was, behind the chalkboard and on the opposite end of the doors he'd used to come into the room. He had begun to pull himself together to leave when he heard raised voices coming from that room.
"You can't spend all year avoiding me."
"Oh yes, I can, Severus. Watch me. Now, get out of my office."
"You're not even going to listen to me, are you?"
"Why should I? You didn't listen to me, did you?"
Harry sat in shock. Snape must have walked in and went to her office. The sound of him coming in must have woken him up. Part of him wanted to sneak out before anyone noticed he was in the classroom. Part of him wanted to barge in there and order him to leave Drecorum alone. And a small voice inside wanted to sit and listen.
He wasn't given much of a choice. He dropped his quill as he shoved things in his bag, and it wafted in the air towards the classroom cupboards. As he went over to grab it, Drecorum stormed from her office in a rage, and Harry darted quickly into the empty cupboard next to him, closing it almost all the way so he wouldn't cause a scene.
"Desi, stop! Listen to me, damn it. Desi!" Snape ran after the Defense teacher, grabbing her arm as she wrenched the classroom door open.
"Let go of me! Severus, stop! You're hurting me!" Desi twisted and writhed, trying to get her arm out of his grasp.
"Not until you've listened to me. Not until you and I finally have this out!" Snape's voice shook with an emotion Harry would never have suspected of the man to have: lament. "Please, Desi. Let me explain." He dropped her arm and ran his fingers through his black hair, which had covered half his face seconds before.
Desdemona rubbed her upper arm where Snape had grabbed her. How dare he storm in her office, let alone manhandle her like that. Gods, if she had her wand right now...
"Fine. You want to have this out, let's have it out, Severus! Would you prefer the door to be left open for the whole school to hear, or shall I shut it to save your bloody reputation as the school's resident angst-ridden cynic?" With that, she slammed the door closed. She spun around, her auburn hair whipping the air. With a deep exhale, she stood with her back straight, arms crossed, lips narrowed. "Well?"
Harry huddled in the cupboard, holding his breath, trying to make sure he didn't knock anything around or make noise in the cramped space. Right now would probably not be the best time to bother the two. Not unless he wanted to challenge that prophesy hanging over his head...
Snape stared into blue eyes he hadn't seen in years. He remembered those eyes well. They'd been filled with kindness, with sympathy, with care and respect. Until one night, when he managed to fill them with pain and heartache and fear. To this day, he'd never managed to forgive himself for that. He stared at auburn hair that had always waved freely in the breeze under the trees on the edge of the forest. He stared at the one person in this world who had cared for him, unconditionally.
Until one night.
He'd been such a fool.
"Nothing to say, Severus? You come barging into my office at some insane hour of the night, drag me around my classroom, and then stare at me with nothing to say?" The blue eyes were cold, shooting daggers of ice at Snape. "Well, good. Because you're going to listen."
Desi clenched her palms to remind her to keep her anger in check. She'd always had a problem with that. "You have some nerve, you know that. To assume I even want to speak to you. I thought I'd said everything I wanted to say twenty-five years ago, Severus. I was wrong. From the moment I walked into this school, I knew I shouldn't have come here. Every day I sit in my office and I wait for you to come and remind me of everything I ran from this damned school to forget. Do you know the depths to which he had to beg me to come here, Severus? The near-blackmail? The guilt-trip he laid on me? It was insane, Severus. And do you have any idea why it was so hard to come back here? Because I knew I would spend every day figuring out how to avoid you!"
Snape tried to speak. "Desi...you have no idea...I know I...please..."
She cut him off. "I have no idea? Of what? Of the fact that you broke a promise to me? Of the fact that you broke my heart for me? Of the fact that the one thing in this world I begged you not to do, you went and did? Are you out of your mind, Severus? I have no idea? YOU have no idea!" She began to back Snape into a corner, poking him in the chest with her index finger with every point she made.
"Do you know what I went through for you? I spent an entire half an hour being sorted my first year. A record that still stands, if I recall. The whole time, the Sorting Hat kept telling me I was needed somewhere. When he finally called out Slytherin, the entire room was in shock. I received owls from my family for a week, in mourning over my sorting. And do you know what, Severus? I didn't care. Because by then I'd met someone who needed a friend like no one else in the world I'd ever seen before. I watched them pick on you on the train to school. Did you know this? I saw them mock you as I stood on stage waiting to be sorted. And after all that, I told the hat I needed to be in Slytherin, because someone there needed me.
"I spent an entire year just trying to get you to let your guard down enough to let me talk to you. I agonized night and day over how to get you to open up. To tell me your fears. To make you laugh. It didn't matter that I was four years younger. I didn't care. I just knew you needed someone in your life to trust, and against all logic and rationality and better judgment, I decided it was going to be me."
Tears began to slide slowly down Desi's cheeks.
Harry stood in the cupboard still, barely breathing. This was more than he'd ever wanted to eavesdrop on in his life. His nose itched, his back hurt, and all he wanted to do was run like hell for the Gryffindor common room. But instead he stayed. He didn't want to risk the sudden death that either or both professors would likely bring if they discovered that something this blatantly personal was being witnessed.
Snape stood, pinned in a corner, slightly afraid of the short woman who had backed him there. He deserved this. All of her rage and all of her anger. He had been the cause of it all; he knew that.
Desi continued. "I spent three years of my life by your side, Severus. When James Potter insulted you, I jinxed his broomstick. When Sirius Black teased you, I set fire to his robes. When members of our very house taunted you, I told Gryffindor the house password so they could come in and play pranks. I protected you, Severus. I stood up for you. Damn it to hell, Severus, I fell in love with you."
The tears came freely now, and Desi did nothing to stop them. Twenty-five years of torment, regret, and grief poured through her. "And then you came to me one night, burning with rage because they had gone too far with their teasing. And you told me you'd been listening to Lucius in Hogsmeade, and you'd decided to hell with everything else, you were going to become a Death Eater, a follower of Voldemort, and all so you could get your revenge on James and Sirius and everyone else in the world that'd ever hurt you. And I begged you not to, Severus. I begged and pleaded and cried my heart out. I made you promise me you wouldn't do it. And you did it anyway!"
She began to choke on her tears, sobbing uncontrollably, shaking and trembling. "You came back from Hogsmeade two days later with that...that thing on your arm, and you asked me to understand. How could I ever understand that, Severus? You. Tell. Me. How could I ever understand you wanting to sell yourself to that?"
Snape raised a hand to gently wipe the tears from Desi's face, but she snatched his hand and shoved it away from her. "I loved you, Severus. I was only fourteen, but I loved you. And you didn't give a damn. Instead, you just tossed that aside like it was some sort of useless trinket. Who cared if you had someone who stood by you when no one else did and who loved you more than anyone else had before? You were going to get your revenge, and that's all that mattered!
"I ran into the school to get away from you. I ran crying all the way to the Headmaster's office, and I begged him to let me switch houses. I begged and pleaded until he finally let me try on the Sorting Hat again. The first time in a thousand years, Severus, that a student switched houses. The only time in a thousand years. And do you want to know what it told me, Severus?" A sharp laugh came from Desi's throat somehow, edging its way through her tears. "It said that now I was no longer needed in Slytherin. It told me my purpose no longer existed. The only reason I was in Slytherin was to be there for you, to help you, to save you. And I'd failed. And the next day, I moved into Gryffindor.
"I spend another four years here, but it was never the same. It was empty, Severus. Cold. Dark. Grey. I hated these grounds, I hated these walls, and the first chance I got, I ran as far and as fast as I could. Because of you, I lost my heart. But I also lost my freedom, Severus. After you joined the Death Eaters, my grandfather had to move heaven and earth to protect me from Voldemort. He knew that he would come for me one day. And now, he had the man who held my heart by his side, doing who-knows-what to innocent people, all the while trying to cover his own anguish and self-loathing. Papa knew that, Severus. And because you couldn't care about me, because you refused to care about me, I lost my home, I lost my family, and I lost myself. I haven't been myself for longer than a few hours ever since that night. So, I truly hope you're happy, Severus. I hope the choice was worth it."
It wasn't. He hated himself; for being so weak as to not turn down that offer from Malfoy. Weak for not standing up for himself while a little girl found the nerve to do so for him. Weak for not having looked for Desi himself after he left Voldemort. And most of all, he felt weak because he walked away from the greatest gift anyone had ever given him, because it would take too much effort to return the gift in kind.
Harry's head was reeling with everything he'd heard. He was finding it hard to imagine a sympathetic Snape, one who actually managed to have someone fall...in love, did she say? With him? He could easily imagine him breaking his promise, but the rest? And her? In Slytherin?! Switching houses? Pieces were falling into place in Harry's head. Why she steadfastly believed that Slytherins could be good, why she believed in free will so strongly, why she had asked him to not judge Snape so harshly. He well remembered that day fifth year, and the memories he peeked in on. They still bothered him, and caused his inner conflict over trusting the Potions teacher. Now he knew why their Defense teacher avoided Snape like the plague.
He couldn't blame her.
Desi turned her back on the man she'd been screaming at for a good fifteen minutes, wiped her tears from her face, and wrestled with her self-control. Good havens, she'd never meant to unload like that. She hadn't ever wanted him to know how much she had hurt back then, how much she still hurt. How much it tore her heart in two to think about what might have been. Now here she was, stuck in a castle she'd grown to hate, standing three feet from the man who had caused her life to be turned upside down. All because of an old man's plea.
Snape finally spoke, in a low, faltering voice. "Desi, will you ever be able to hear my side? Will you give me a chance to try and explain? Can you ever begin to forgive me?"
Desi turned to look at him, the pain she held dearly mixed with sympathy. She could still see the fifteen-year-old she'd met in this colder, harsher man today. The fact that some of what she once knew and loved still remained shook her. She took a deep breath.
"Maybe, Severus. Maybe someday. But not today. Not now. Not tonight."
He nodded. He accepted that. Hell, it was more than he deserved, if he was honest with himself. He reached for the door and began to walk away from the classroom.
"Severus," a small voice called out, causing him to stop in mid-stride. He didn't turn; he just stayed where he was.
Desi swallowed. "To be fair, you weren't the reason I had to hide when Voldemort came to power. Don't carry that guilt on your conscience. It's not your fault my last name wasn't always Drecorum." She tried to slip past him in an attempt to make it to her apartments before losing control again, but he caught her arm again as she did. The look they exchanged said more than words ever could.
"Good night, Professor Snape," she whispered, as he softly let go of her arm and let her walk away.
Snape stood there for a full minute before walking away as well.
Harry waited another five before finally leaving the hot, cramped cupboard and heading to his dorm.
Snape's feet directed him without conscious thought. Finally, he found himself leaving the school and heading for a familiar spot; a trio of trees that stood alone off to one side of the school, near the Whomping Willow and with a breathtaking view of the moon-lit sky. The snow that had fallen crunched under his feet, and his breath hung in the air in clouds. He'd been teaching at Hogwarts almost twenty years, and yet he'd avoided this spot ever since he left the school as a student.
Ever since that night.
He kicked himself for what he'd done. All because he couldn't handle some taunting and teasing. He'd told himself that he had done it to gain control over his life. To gain power over those who'd sought to hurt and use him. It wasn't only Potter and Black. It had been everyone he'd known his whole life. Family. Classmates. Total strangers. Everyone he'd ever known had either ignored him or had done everything in their power to hurt him.
Everyone, that is, except one person.
He asked himself the same question he'd asked himself every single night for twenty-five years. Why hadn't he kept his promise to Desi?
Flashes of that night came back in his head.
Sneaking off to Hogsmeade, late at night, no moon in sight. Following nothing but a head of white-blonde hair.
The shivers down his spine as he entered a dark house, the only light coming from a fireplace in a far-off room.
The fear in his heart when he beheld the man who would change his life forever.
The pain in his left arm as he touched him, the mark burning his flesh.
The reassurances from others that night that what they did was right. What they did was best. That the Dark Lord would rise victorious. That he would have his revenge.
The return to the school. All the while feeling like he made the best decision he ever could.
Desi's tears, streaming like rain, after he told her what he'd done.
His pleading with her to understand.
Her running from him, never to speak to him again.
When he found out the next day that she'd been resorted, he was in shock. The whole school was; they didn't know why anyone would ask to be resorted, let alone actually go through with it. But he knew. He'd been the reason.
But he'd never known until tonight how much of the reason he'd been.
Then he remembered another night.
The man who waited in his rooms.
'Severus, you know what Voldemort is doing is wrong. I know you're a better man than this. I've seen your character; you're better than petty hate and torture.'
The promises. 'Voldemort will never be able to reach you, as long as you remain at Hogwarts and under my protection. And no one will hold this against you, Severus. No one will ever have to know you helped us. No one will know you betrayed him. I promise you.
The plea. 'Do this for my granddaughter, Severus. Please. If no one else in this world matters to you, think of her. I beg you, Severus. Do this for Desi.'
The agreement.
Did Desi know? Had she any idea that one night almost twenty years ago, Albus Dumbledore left Hogwarts and came to a small hotel in London, where a Death Eater sat alone, hating himself for years of evil done at his hands, wishing desperately for a way out? Had he ever told her of the agreement they'd made, and what it had taken for him to make it?
Did she know that he betrayed Voldemort to try to undo the pain he'd caused her?
'It's not your fault my last name wasn't always Drecorum'
He hadn't known anyone who had cared so much for anyone. He'd never known what it was like to be loved. To be protected. To be respected and liked and appreciated. Until his fifth year of school, when a young girl with shining blue eyes and flowing auburn hair had entered the Great Hall, waiting to be sorted.
She'd given him a gift, a chance to reclaim some of his own humanity and to find some peace in the world. She'd given him true friendship and understanding and companionship. Hell, she'd given him something no one had ever given him before: at such a young age, she'd blindly given him her heart.
And he'd thrown it all away.
He cried then. Snape couldn't help it. Tears of shame, regret, and anger fell, drop by drop. He leaned against the tree behind him and let them fall.
Albus Dumbledore stood by a window in his apartments, watching snowflakes fall carelessly from the sky. Below him, a figure in black stood in stark relief against the whiteness of the new-fallen snow. Behind him, a figure in crimson was curled on a couch in front of a fire, finally sleeping.
His heart went out to both.
Fawkes sat perched next to Desdemona, having offered what comfort he could. Even phoenix tears couldn't heal the pain she was finally letting herself go through. She'd come pelting down the hallway and into his apartments with no knock on the door, her blue eyes red from tears, her hair strewn all about, tear marks drying on her face.
It reminded him of another night, just like this, many years ago.
'Papa, please!' A young voice pleading at his arm, crying as if her heart would shatter. 'I can't be in that house anymore. I can't let it twist me like it did him. I don't want to face that again. Papa, please.'
A man torn between obligation and commitment. Obligation to school rules and policies; commitment to his only granddaughter.
A decision. Let the hat choose. After all, it would have the final word.
A choice made. 'Rise and leave, Slytherin no more. Now go home to Gryffindor'.
A young man left alone once more, with only pain and confusion to sustain him.
A Dark Lord, growing more powerful every day. Another student he'd failed through carelessness.
Dumbledore walked away from the window and stood by his granddaughter, brushing her hair from her face. Only two other times in his life had he seen her so upset, so distraught. One had been for the same reason as tonight. The first was the night he had to tell her that her parents were dead.
Fire burned brightly within Dumbledore's heart at that memory. He'd never considered himself a hero, a champion of right, and certainly not a villain's nemesis, until that night. Tobias and Cassandra had been two of Voldemort's first victims; his rise to power had caused concern within the ministry, and the aurors had been sent to deal with him.
They never came home.
As he held his granddaughter that night, Dumbledore swore he'd protect her. At the same time, he swore to protect the students. And thus began his working against Lord Voldemort.
Four years later, he held her again as she poured out tears of a new and fragile sort. He hadn't realized how completely she'd given her heart to the lonely Slytherin boy until it was too late. He'd been blind to their problems, and because of that, he'd failed them both. Right then and there, he made another promise to himself, to try and undo the damage that had been done that night. Which wouldn't be easy, considering the boy had given himself over to the very evil he'd sworn to fight.
It took him years to confront Severus Snape that night in London. Too long. Another in a long line of regrets. But he finally did. He thanked every god he'd ever heard of that he'd found him before it had been too late. Severus had done evil, yes. But not so much evil that it had tainted him. In fact, the opposite was true. Snape wanted to turn his back on the Dark Arts. At first, it had been a relief unlike any other for him. But slowly, bit by agonizing bit, the relief turned cold, the revenge grew tasteless, until finally, he had become the shade of a person that he'd been when Dumbledore had approached him. The first sign of life in his cold, empty eyes had stirred at the mention of Desdemona's name.
He gave Severus Snape the second chance he deserved, and Snape proved himself. While there were some character changes that might never fade, he slowly grew into a different person. Still lonely, still angry, but growing in confidence and ability. Compassion was hard for his to rediscover. He held bitterness to him as a blanket to keep him warm, and Dumbledore understood his reasons. Both of them knew that one day Voldemort would return, and when he called for his loyal followers, neither knew what would happen.
When it did, and Snape stood steadfastly by Dumbledore's side, he knew he'd undone some of the damage caused by his blindness to his students' problems.
The rest of the damage was curled on his couch, sleeping the deep sleep of exhaustion.
Dumbledore sighed deeply and extinguished most of the candles with a waver of his hand. 'Let her sleep', he thought to himself as he left his sitting room. 'Tomorrow will still come.'