Chapter Three: Recognition

"Emily, Madam Coats is going to kill you," a thirteen-year-old Severus whispered. "Then, she'll kill me for letting you do it."

Emily shook the hair from her face as she laughed. "Severus Snape! As if you could let me do anything. Now, back up."

"Emily," Severus grasped the broom firmly, "you know that thing I'm always nagging you about?"

She rolled her eyes.

"You're doing it again," he finished with a single raised eyebrow, the late-night shadows casting his face in sharp relief.

"Being stupid or reckless?" she asked with a smirk.

"Both," he answered tightly. "We can try this over the holidays at home. Now, get off that broom."

With a wicked grin, she kicked off the ground and shot away at breakneck speed, much more rapidly than the school's old Hermes broom should have been capable, but the inscription of several runes of speed and agility using a Fleet-of-Foot potion Severus had brewed as extra credit had turned it into a dangerously fast means of transportation. She blew past him like a hurricane wind, much too close to the ground.

"You should know better than to give me orders, Sevikins," she called.

He ground his teeth at the insufferable nickname, but could do little to stop her, short of cursing the broom out of the sky. Had it been anyone else, he would have. For now, he just watched her fly with admitted pride at how well the combination of potions and runes was working. They had been discussing the theory for a year, having stumbled upon one of Lord Grey's books on combining fields of magic. Here was proof that it could work with amazing results. The broom was remarkably swift and... flying far too close to that new whomping willow, he noticed with increasing alarm. What the hell was she doing?

She dodged a swinging branch, looped around another with a wild whoop of elation, and Severus drew his wand. He was going to have to get her off that broom before she got herself killed. Period. The fall would be dangerous, but if he could slow her before she reached the ground...

Crunch!

Severus stopped breathing as Emily and what was left of the broom fell from the sky in slow motion.

Long legs carried him across the clearing in an instant and he dragged her inert body to safety with a tendril of magic just as the whomping willow sent a low-hanging branch to finish the job.

She had refused to go to the hospital wing, though he was certain she'd bruised or possibly even cracked a rib and sprained her wrist. When questioned about it, she informed him that, unless they had something for her wounded pride, she saw no need in going.

Two days later, Snape scrubbed his face with his hands as she mounted her broom for the Quidditch game against Ravenclaw as if nothing had happened.

"Hey, you! Mopey!" she called softly to a brooding Snape. "Hand me my club, will you?"

He reluctantly passed the beater's club to her and she tucked it between her knees as she finished tying her hair back. "I can't believe you're going to play today," he murmured, trying to keep the conversation private.

"Sev, don't worry," she whispered, running a hand through his black hair. "You rescued me from certain death. I'm fine... and very grateful." She gave his forehead a quick kiss. "I'm a quick healer, love."

It was the first time she'd ever called him that, and he discouraged it from that point, but it made no difference. His reticence to be called something he could never be only goaded her to continue.

She had been right about one thing, though. Having come from a long line of highly athletic aurors, she was, indeed, a very quick healer.

Presently, however, she was crouched on the floor in his arms, catching her breath as he held a glass of water to her lips, trying to get her to drink. Finally, she pulled herself together enough to take a small sip. She paused, winced, then took a larger one, still breathing far too rapidly for his comfort.

"Emily, you shouldn't be up," he scolded softly, sliding his arm under her knees and lifting her from the floor with considerably more difficulty than before. She was rapidly gaining weight, and looking healthier by the hour as the potions did their work. There was no excuse, though, for her to be roaming about on her own, not in her weakened condition.

"I don't..." she began gutturally.

"Don't talk," he interrupted sternly, tucking a down-filled blanket around her . "Not yet."

She studied him with a curious expression, as if she were trying to work out a complex diagram. He let her eyes wander over him, hoping that she'd answer her own question about his identity. That, at least would show that her mind hadn't been damaged as badly as he feared.

But, soon, she seemed to give up, turning her face to the wall with a heavy sigh and snuggling further under the cover. He had imbued the bed with a warming spell two days ago when her body had refused to stop shivering. It was as if, now that she'd been reminded of what warmth was, she couldn't get enough.

His gaze wandered from woman to potion for a moment. Now that she was semi-coherent, it seemed a shame to use the Imperius curse to control her, but he couldn't count on her understanding how precious these next potions were, and how time-consuming. He had only made three, to be taken in order every six hours. If any of them were wasted, the result would be... well, unpredictable, and that was unacceptable to the potions master.

First, it would be prudent to find out what kind of mindset she was in. To that effect, he knelt unobtrusively by her bedside, and crept quietly into her thoughts.

Immediately, he wished he hadn't. Emily's mind, once a home to some of the greatest pranks in Hogwarts history, had become a place of nightmares. It was dark and freezing cold, filled with things which crawled across his skin and skittered around his head. There was someone screaming in the distance, but he couldn't see to get to the source.

Occasionally, there were flashes of his face as a youth and Eric's, but there was no cohesiveness to the thought patterns themselves. A vision of her father, bleeding from the mouth and ears with Death Eaters standing over him seemed to sweep toward him. His own face was highlighted among the others, younger, grim, and cold as stone. Gods, was that how she had seen him? Surely, as long as they had known one another, she knew how it had hurt him to have to kill a man who had only ever treated him with kindness.

The vision swept not past him, but through him, leaving the echo of malicious laughter in its wake.

Then there was her brother, Eric, shouting something unintelligible. He shoved her viciously and she shoved him back, but it wasn't Eric who moved. It was Severus. He stumbled back a few paces, then found himself on his back beside the bed where he had knelt. The magic still pushed at him, but much less aggressively now. Her point was made. She didn't want him in her head, especially not within that particular memory. He cursed silently as he realized what he had likely been witnessing: her last moments with her brother. The answer to his questions lay buried within that memory. He had half a mind to go back in there and force it out of her, but it was a fleeting thought, driven by temper. He would no more do that to Emily than she would have done it to him. Some things were sacred among friends.

His determination was redoubled, now, though. If he could rekindle some vestige of herself, perhaps he could convince her to talk to him, to explain why she had killed Eric, why she had not even tried to defend herself at her trial. For too long, he had lived without knowing. That ended here. The time had come for Emily to come out of hiding, and give some long-overdue answers.

He stood, lifted his wand calmly, and placed her under his control.

"Sit up, Emily," he ordered sternly.

With an effort, she was able to follow his command. Severus pushed aside his reflexive desire to aid her. If she was to regain her strength, she would need to be left to her own devices. Her muscles were rebuilding far too slowly for his own satisfaction, and having wasted that first stamina potion, she'd compromised her energy level. The new one was still brewing.

He held out the goblet of Clarity Potion. "Be careful with this. It's still hot."

She sipped it carefully as he watched in hopeful silence, and slowly, almost unbearably so, her eyes cleared and widened as if the sudden lucidity frightened her. Absently, she lowered the goblet and looked around, blinking as if she'd just been startled out of a daydream.

"Keep drinking, Emily," Severus prompted impatiently.

She did as she was bid and Severus mused as he watched her. If he had known the Imperius curse early on, he would have been spared the world of trouble she was known to cause. This time, he swore he wouldn't hesitate to employ it if she even hinted that she planned to step out of line.

Finally, the goblet was emptied and he took it from her grasp. With a slowly-drawn deep breath, he released her from the spell.

She raised her head and looked at him.

Not the hazy way she'd glanced at him since he brought her from prison, but with mint-green eyes, bright and curious.

"Hello, Emily," he said finally, uncomfortable with the way she stared in silence.

She opened her mouth to speak and he put a finger to her lips. "No. I have a potion brewing that will aid you in that endeavor. In the meantime..." He touched his wand, first to his head, then to her own, stringing a thin line of silver between them like a spider's web. "Conligatio Mentis," he said softly.

It was a simple spell for binding two minds together for the purpose of silent communication, but as soon as he uttered it, he was overwhelmed with the mental rampage going on behind her deceptively peaceful eyes. It took him a moment to slip in a word among the deafening noise.

"Emily," he sent the thought toward her, hoping to break in, but the riot in her head would not be so easily quelled. "Emily, stop this!" he shouted inside her mind. The noise lessened a bit. "If I can't hear myself think, I certainly can't communicate with you." The noise settled a bit more, and as he listened a soft, hesitant voice cut through the inane mumbling and muttering in the distance.

"Who are you?" she asked timidly, clearly frightened.

"Do you not know?" he responded. "Do you recall the first time you linked your mind with someone else's?"

He deliberately played a scene for her from his own memories, a memory that only she shared: the time they'd done this far-too-advanced enchantment at the tender age of twelve. To their surprise and delight, it had worked. Unfortunately, they found themselves unable to break the spell, and for several days neither of them had the luxury of a private thought. It had been a revealing experience to say the least, one in which they had gained a great deal of sympathy and understanding for one another.

She knitted her brow, then opened her mouth into a small 'o' as she lifted her hand to his face and traced the lines that two decades of suffering had drawn there. "It can't be," her mind whispered to his. He waited for her to recognize him, needed for her to do so without any more prompting, and his patience was rewarded, but not within his mind.

She whispered his name, like a beautiful secret, and when he smiled at the sound, a tiny puddle of tears arose and slid down her cheeks. He brought her head to his shoulder and let her cry.

Headmaster,

Miss Grey is lucid, now, and much stronger. I am firmly convinced that she can and will assist us in our endeavor, but I must insist on seeking more than we've offered her: a pardon, perhaps, for risking her own life to assist the Order. Should we succeed, she will have earned her freedom. I shall wish to discuss it with you at length when I am not so busy with my charge. Perhaps, in a few days I can arrange to meet you.

In the meantime, please consider what I am asking of you. If I am permitted my freedom after the crimes I have committed: the men, women, and children I have slaughtered, then there is no justice in denying her the same.

Sincerely,

S. Snape

"Severus."

The voice called patiently, as if expecting to be kept waiting, but Snape was out of bed, wand in hand in an instant. It took an extra moment to focus his mind and realize who was speaking. The face of Albus Dumbledore was unusually stern, though his posture was that of a man who was completely at ease. He didn't even seem to notice the long, black wand pointed at his head.

Snape cleared his throat and lowered his weapon.

"Headmaster, I wasn't expecting you."

"That goes without saying, Severus. But, after reading your last letter, I was concerned." Snape looked taken aback. "Please, sit down," Albus offered, as if Snape was the guest and this were his own home.

Severus simply did as he was asked, too apprehensive to even notice the slight.

"What's happened, Headmaster?"

"Nothing untoward," the elder wizard assured him simply. "Tell me, where is Miss Grey?"

A frown creased the potions master's features. He'd be a fool to not see where this was leading. "Down the hall," he answered firmly. "In her room, in her bed, where she belongs. Where, precisely, did you assume she would be?"

The Headmaster narrowed his eyes, obviously searching Snape's mind, and the potions master allowed it without protest. Apparently relieved at what he saw there, Albus sat back and released a sigh.

"I apologize, Severus, but your letter..." he hesitated, seemed to gather his thoughts. "Severus, what you feel for that girl could compromise this entire venture. Your love for her is so tangible that I could feel it when I unrolled the scroll. Love this strong, for someone you can never be with, is dangerous."

"I cannot deny that I have feelings for her, Headmaster, nor would I. But, I am a grown man, and hardly a helpless victim of my heart," he answered, the last sentence delivered with his customary sneer. "I will see this done, sir. You have no cause for concern."

"I feel that I do, Severus," Dumbledore said gravely. "Still," he added, standing abruptly, "I am not concerned enough to do what I came here to do."

"And, what would that be?" Severus intoned warily.

"I came to remove Miss Grey from your care and return her to Azkaban." He smiled warmly. "My dear boy, you have no idea how relieved I am that I needn't do so."

Snape resisted the urge to pull away when Dumbledore took his shoulder in a surprisingly firm grip. "You're a fine young man, Severus. I'm sorry that I doubted your honor."

"If there is any offense, Headmaster, it is in the insinuation that I have any at all," Snape replied.

Albus chuckled lightly. "Forgive me for waking you, then."

With a wink and nod, he was gone, and Severus sat back with a sigh of relief. He glanced at the clock and stretched stiffly. It was time for the second potion.

Ellesar Evenstar: Shame, shame, shame on you! (Shakes a finger at Evenstar) Okay, now pull up a chair, have some tea, and relax. Thanks for your review. I have recently discovered through a fellow author that there are tons of people out there who read and don't review. A great raspberry to all of them! But, I must somehow go on in spite of it. I'm pleased to hear that you find the new story interesting. It's slow moving at the beginning, I know, but it will pick up. I will continue posting this story chapter by chapter until it is finished, I promise you. I would never dump a story in the middle of the telling. That's just wrong. Even if there's only person reading, it's unfair. Too many authors have done that to me, and I hate it. As for the Alex stories, due to popular demand, (boy, does that make me feel good) they will likely continue after this one is finished. Hope to hear from you again. Don't be a stranger!

Queen of the Faeries: Awww... thank you! I see Severus as being the type of guy who's hiding a lot of tenderness... for the right person. Of course, if you aren't that person, the Fates help you, 'cause he can be vicious. I've had a few people indicate that they're interested in the runic magic thing, so I hope that the concepts I've come up with are satisfactory. You may indeed get a copy of the alternate ending. I'll have The Loaf beta read it as soon as possible and e-mail it to you. Thanks for your interest. I'm flattered. By the way, you've piqued my curiosity. What parts seemed odd?

emerald sparrow: Thanks! I'm glad you liked it, and I'm also glad to see you here. Hope it continues to hold to your interest.

Lady Jenilyn: I'm glad that you feel Sev's point of view is pulled off reasonably well. It's challenging to write from his perspective, but really, really fun as well. I've decided to break up the perspective, though, between Sev and Emily just because some parts simply don't read as well through Sev's point of view. I'm glad that you're not offended at seeing his softer side. If you prefer snarky Snape (as I do) he's not far behind, I promise! The bath scene was tough to write, so thanks. I think that Lucius was probably permanently scarred by the nighttime activities of Albus and Minerva, but I thought it was sweet. Go, wrinkly, old people! Make that love! So, you don't want her to go back to Azkaban? Why not? It's so warm and cozy there! Until you started mentioning them, I didn't realize that I had included so many mysteries. Oh, boy! This should be fun! Dumbly is less than fond of our Emily as she is one of the few unrepentant Death Eaters, so I doubt that he would understand what anyone would see in her. Sigh. Those are the squeaky-clean, noble people for you. If the college closes the library and you disappear, I will go crazy! Please, please, please, don't leave me! I'm afraid I've gone and let myself grow fond of you... and your story.

Quietude 17: Name change is duly noted, but you'll always be my Quietude, the one and only, the one who refuse to use the 'Shift' key... and I've grown to love ya for it. Yes, the plot thickens, and thickens, and thickens as the story moves on... hopefully. Snape was right in there with Voldemort's revenge, yup. Kinda sucks for him as far Emily's opinion of him goes, but by that time... oops! sorry. Can't tell you that, yet. My bad. Snape and Unforgivables/ Unforgiveables and Snape. You can't really have one without the other. The man is a Slytherin through and through... and good for him. I like him that way. I am so glad that you said that! I've been hesitant about the flashbacks, not sure whether they further developed the characters or just took away from the present story. It's nice to have some feedback on that. Yay for me. Thanks! I'll e-mail the alternate ending to you as soon as The Loaf beta reads it, groovy?