Chapter 5 - Snape the Agent.
*********
While this argument took place inside Dumbledore's office Harry, Ron and Hermione were walking past.
"...Well, I can't wait until I get Snape's essay finished, because, for once, it seems that I can play Quidditch without being banned or killed or mauled for whatever reason." said Harry, as he walked pasted Sev, who was re-organising his scarf as Harry went past.
Harry suddenly realised that he had seen something very Odd, as had Hermione and Ron.
"Was that Snape?" he asked.
"Wearing...red?" asked Ron, as if he had just seen Snape give a hundred points to Gryffindor and put Malfoy in detention. "And a trench coat?" he said, as if he had just seen Snape hug Harry and tell him he loved him.
Hermione did a double take. "I think that's Snape, but, but it can't be...."
They all turned their head simultaneously as they watched his hang the scarf over himself. He suddenly saw that they were staring at him. "Go on, " he said, "You don't want to miss supper do you? Especially if you're trying out for the Quidditch team later. Good luck!"
Harry's mouth hung open for a second before he mumbled, "Thank you Proffesor..."
They walked, still staring at him as something small and hurried ran into them, knocking them over. "Hey!" shouted Harry. Then he saw it was a little Slytherin girl, who now, looking like a rabbit that had just seen the headlights of a six tonne truck, was trying to pick up her books.
"Ow," moaned Ron, "watch where you're going. You nearly killed us!"
The little girl said nothing, but dusted herself off, looking a little hurt, and still staring at them.
"Ron, don't be so harsh on her, she's new!" admonished Hermione. Then turning her attention to the new girl she said, "Now, what's your name, you look lost..."
The girl said nothing, but stared past them, her eyes wide with fear. She tried to run past them, but Herminie stuck out her arm and stopped her. 'Hey, where do you think you're going? Aren't you even going to apologise?"
The girl stopped struggling, picked her bag up off the ground, and ran away in the opposite direction. 'Darn Slytherin," said Hermione, "Always think they're better than us..."
"I can't believe you said 'darn' said Harry as they walked off, talking amongst themselves as Severus Snape accompanied his double down the hall; unaware of the encouragement he had unintentionally given Harry Potter, the boy who he hated.
**********
As Sev entered Snape's rooms, the first thing he noticed was...how cold they were. It wasn't just the temperature, but the whole place seemed designed to send shivers down his spine. The floor and walls were made of cold, grey stone, the furniture crafted from fine, but almost black, wood. The rare rugs that were in this room were threadbare, little more than a huge drop strict that had been laid on the floor. The room was, in so many words, Spartan.
No. It was, it was like someone had taken a Spartan room and removed anything and everything that made the room warm. The fireplace was sooty, and looked like it hadn't been used in years, the candles looked as though they were made from ice, and the windows were a colour that made even the light seem freezing. It reminded him a lot of his parent house, well that was before he had sold it after they'd died.
"Are you sure this isn't a morgue?" he asked.
"What, too cold for you?" Sneered Snape.
"No." he answered quickly, "It's just, a lot colder than I expected."
"I expect it is." Said Snape, in a voice that seemed mocking, but not in a way that could be defined.
"You...get a lot of people down here?" he asked.
"No. I work alone."
"Good. I suppose I could use the classroom for a quick report to the department of Metaphysic's?"
"There's nothing to stop you." Said Snape neutrally, as he performed a spell for a bed to appear, " there. You've got a place to sleep. I'll be in my office if you need me. I have work to do."
"Thanks." Said Sev, sarcastically. As Snape left the room his threw off his coat and scarf, and opened his wallet, searching through for something. He took out a wizard photo, and he looked at it for just a second before he whispered, more to himself than to any casual observer, I "I'm doing this for both of you."/I and he found himself smiling a little. He put the picture on the bed Snape had conjured, throwing the wallet down, letting the possessions spill out, and then walked out into the classroom.
He walked in the old dungeon, and memories, memories that didn't belong to this place began to flood into his mind. The happy hours he'd spent doing extra potions work, the time he'd spent with James, Lily, and Remus doing potions revision on the seventh year, under Lily's insistence, the time when all of them got into trouble and had taken refuge in here. Severus had been glad that Professor Hall, the old Potion's master, had been particularly sympathetic as Snape had been his favourite pupil. James, Sirius and Remus had given him some stick about that, but they were glad of it in the end.
Severus forgot his memories again, and rolling up his sleeves, flicked his wand while saying, I"Uipime Sturiteni"/I. It only took a few seconds before what looked like a large hole in space, a bit like a TV screen appeared in mid air. There was an image in it, in black and white, grainy and blurry, but you could make out some figures in it. If you looked carefully enough, you could see Professor Dumbledore, but obviously not the professor Dumbledore that was here, because he sat in a place that was filled with crackling wires and various wizards trying to fix up some of the machinery with wands. It was definitely not the world he occupied now as James Potter was standing in the background, looking as if he had just got off his broomstick, shouting at someone with acid green hair and bright yellow eyes, half in English, half in Psyxen. Business as usual at the Department of Metaphysic's. If Fudge ever found out, he'd blow his top.
"Professor?" he asked. Dumbledore, James and yellowed eyes man turned around at the same time, as if they had only just noticed him.
"Sev." Said the image of James Potter, the word jumpy as is the connection was faulty, "what....too...k....you...so...long."
"I was detained, they caught me and, well, I've been chained up and questioned for the better part of a day."
"Are you...all right?" asked the Yellow eyed man in cracked English.
"Yes Doctor, nothings missing."
"Good."
"I told them what you wanted me to tell them." Said Severus, "can I come back?"
"Did...you...tell the...Ministry?" asked Dumbledore, but the image was fading and blurring.
"No."
"You....Must.... Tell them..." but the rest of the sentence was too cracked and muffled to hear what he said.
"I'll go to the ministry, but is Michael okay?"
"Michael....fine...But go to....the ministry."
"Yes sir, but it might take some time." As he said the last word, the image faded away, and Sev cursed in the style of the Snape family. As hard as possible. The placed his wand back into his robes, and for some reason, a wave of nostalgia came over him. He hadn't been back here for at least twenty years. He walked around the room, and sat at his old chair, Nothing much had changed. He remembered when he had first arrived here, he felt like he'd know this place like the back of his hand before he had left because he had ended up spending so much time here, being a good student.
That was possibly why people hadn't like him until his sixth year, when he, in so many words, began to loosen up. It was Lily's fault. He had become her friend at the end of the fifth year, and then, in turn had become Remus's friend, and after a two-night cram for a Charms exam, he had managed to gain the trust of Sirius and James who had managed to get top grades. He remembered once how he had helped James with his homework, and Professor Hall had almost fainted when he saw the grade. Severus had never let on it was partly his work, although he had never let him copy. That was the rule of the clever students, it seemed. Always help, never copy. Except in extreme circumstances.
As he sat at his desk, remembering his life, he looked at the table. He had, as most seventh years at the time, taken the liberty of leaving their mark on some part of school property, other than trophies or otherwise. He had taken a quill and spent a lesson scratching in I Sev 4 Rya /I. But it wasn't there. He saw a newer mark of ICedric 4Cho /I and one of IFred + George woz 'er/I in what looked like burn marks, but his mark was missing. He suddenly realised that a pair of eyes were looking at him, almost boring into his skull. He looked around.
He saw a little Slytherin girl, the one with the bandaged wrists and those eyes that expressed more than words could. Almost the second he looked around, She ran away, but not before she let it be known by her stare that she was incredibly displeased.
*****
It was while this happened that Snape found that he couldn't work. He was in one of those moods that even giving Potter a 'D' couldn't help him continue. He couldn't sit down and work at anything, his mind felt like a simmering potion. He thought he might make a potion, just to calm his mind down, but when he reached his office door, he heard the other Severus Snape talking to someone. Deciding that he didn't want to get involved, he went to his room to get a book from his bookshelf.
It was as he passed the extra bed so clumsily placed in the middle of the room his mind began to wonder. He picked a book off the shelf, but as he stared at the contents of the wallet, strewn on the bed, he started to think. It was possible that the other Severus Snape had formed immunity to Veritaserum, and just as possible that he had charmed his appearance to look like himself, while almost managing to convince Dumbledore that he was in fact him. Dumbledore was always too trusting. Snape didn't trust himself, he had to find out. He put the book casually on the table, and sat on the bed, looking through the papers.
Identification paper, all in the name of Severus Snape, almost identical to his own, Auror's papers, he didn't know much about the papers they carried, but he saw enough to see that they were his own, a letter from Dumbledore, addressed to him, asking him to come, some other various bank statements, all in the name of Severus Snape. ISnape, Snape, Snape...where's the evidence? It can't be! I know he's lying... /I. It was at this point that he noticed a picture lying on the bed. He dropped the other papers on the floor, and picked it up. It was a wizard photo, so the people in the picture were moving around a bit, but he knew the people in the picture.
There was a woman, a woman he recognised from school. It was Rya Gerieya, a Death Eater he had known. She was, apart from Peter Pettigrew, the only known Gryffindor Death Eater. He had a stupid attraction to her when he was in the Death Eaters, and it was as if the Photo had brought back all the memories of being a Death Eater.
He remembered how she had agreed to go on a date with him, for whatever reason she had, and they had got on quite well, she even allowed him to have Sex with her, but he had known that this was more to do with the fact he was a Death Eater than the fact she was attracted to him. He had even thought he had loved her, in a fit of young passion, but he soon learned that he didn't. He learned he didn't when The Dark Lord decided that she had been holding a secret against him, and had used the Cruciatus curse on her. She had writhed in pain, screaming on the floor, and Snape had wondered why he hadn't died when he watched her. He felt as if the curse had been acted on himself, but it hadn't. Tiredly he had watched, unable to do anything. It was at the moment when she looked up into his Ebony eyes, and he saw the expression of fear and death wish in her eyes that he felt himself begin to want to move. But he couldn't, and that was because he was a Coward.
Voldermort had continued to torture her, in front of his eyes, and he had let a few tears run down his face, pretending that the dust she dislodged in the old room caused them. Finally she had screamed out that she did know which Village the Potters were in, and with that information Voldermort had killed her. The group of Death Eaters had moved on, leaving him alone with her. He hadn't used Avada Kedavra on her, no; he had simply picked up a poker from the dirty fireplace and bashed her head in, wounding her body, and left her body like one would leave a dead rat. He had stayed their, tears running down his face; unable to stop himself crying as he cradled her weakened body in his arms. He remembered that the last thing she said, as he looked into her bright, sea blue eyes, was 'who will cry for the doomed children?' as if she knew something.
Her blood on his hands, he had cried, her body turning stone cold. He had been young, weak, emotional as he had dragged her body to the hill near Little Hangleton and buried her body in a shallow grave, with no more than a cross made of two sticks and a torn sleeve to tie them together to signify where she lay.
The same woman who he had buried before turned sides was in this photo with his other self; smiling gently, laughing a little, hold his other self, the other Snape by the shoulders. It outraged him! How could she smile, didn't she know she was dead! Why was it that the photographs never got it right? There were pictures of people smiling who would die the next day, or frowns when they would be laughing soon. How could that be right? How could one of the few women he ever though he cared about in any way be laughing at him as if she had defied the grave.
And there he was, smiling, looking a little shocked at the small bundle in his arms. A bundle he had never seen before, but his other self knew very well. It was a baby. A small, but perfect baby in his arms as he cooed over it, playing with it. It was probably at this moment he realised that it must be his own child, in a way. Rya and he had a baby, they had maybe been married, but they had a child together. His face drooped. How could this be? She had died seventeen years ago, how could she be in this photo? It was impossible; it couldn't be, not if the other Snape and he were the same person.
Was this proof that they weren't, or was it that he couldn't take his eyes off the picture? It was the like the mirror of Erised, but more real. His whole face was at a loss for what expression it should be in, so it was slack, jaw open, eyes wide in an expression between disbelief and longing.
He stared at Rya, looking so happy as she held him, him as in Severus Snape, laughing, and he cooed, playing with the baby. He watched the scene, over and over again, like a video recorder stuck at one scene. He couldn't put it down. They looked so...happy together. She didn't look like she didn't want to be there, or like she was only with him because she pitied him, which was the usual case, but because she actually I liked/I him, she might even have loved him as much as he thought he did...
"Um, Snape, do you...WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING?" shouted Sev as he came in the room, "going through my things!" he snatched the photo out of his hands and sneered, "You didn't trust me, so you thought that you'd make sure..." Severus looked like he could have hit Snape, "I shouldn've known..."
"Well, that's what you get for leaving your things around, 'Sneered Snape, right back, "If you're in someone else's home, you should at least keep things to yourself."
"I thought you were marking paper, not going through mine to see if I was lying!" snapped Sev, "how dare you!"
"Well, if you didn't have anything to hide, why're you so...upset about it, eh?" enquired Snape, seeing he had the upper hand, "Unless there's something in their that I don't know about..."
"Go ahead, look!" shouted Severus, "Damn well find something that says my name's bloody Joe I'm-Trying-to-overthrow-the-world, but don't you dare go through my things without permission!"
As Snape picked up the papers on the floor, and stuffed them back into the wallet, he said something he had to know. "Who are the people in the picture you're holding?"
********
Authors notes -
1/I doubt whether Snape would own a wallet, but can we just say he does for the sake of the story, and allow a little more artistic Licence.
2/The fact Our Snape is unemotional when remembering the death of this woman, although he was obviously extremely attracted to her shows that he is quiet emotionally blocked. Okay, that is an extremely pretentious thing to say, but let me say it anyway.
3/There is a picture on Elfwood that I based Rya's death on, and when I find it again, I will give you a link, but for now that's where it came from.
4/ Cliffhanger again! Sorry I won't be able to update again until at least the 26th of July, but I'm going on Holiday and won't have access to a computer.
5/ I was listening to the Album '18' by Moby when I wrote this. Just though you should know.
Thankfully as Always, Xandra the Blue.
P.S Please read and review.
*********
While this argument took place inside Dumbledore's office Harry, Ron and Hermione were walking past.
"...Well, I can't wait until I get Snape's essay finished, because, for once, it seems that I can play Quidditch without being banned or killed or mauled for whatever reason." said Harry, as he walked pasted Sev, who was re-organising his scarf as Harry went past.
Harry suddenly realised that he had seen something very Odd, as had Hermione and Ron.
"Was that Snape?" he asked.
"Wearing...red?" asked Ron, as if he had just seen Snape give a hundred points to Gryffindor and put Malfoy in detention. "And a trench coat?" he said, as if he had just seen Snape hug Harry and tell him he loved him.
Hermione did a double take. "I think that's Snape, but, but it can't be...."
They all turned their head simultaneously as they watched his hang the scarf over himself. He suddenly saw that they were staring at him. "Go on, " he said, "You don't want to miss supper do you? Especially if you're trying out for the Quidditch team later. Good luck!"
Harry's mouth hung open for a second before he mumbled, "Thank you Proffesor..."
They walked, still staring at him as something small and hurried ran into them, knocking them over. "Hey!" shouted Harry. Then he saw it was a little Slytherin girl, who now, looking like a rabbit that had just seen the headlights of a six tonne truck, was trying to pick up her books.
"Ow," moaned Ron, "watch where you're going. You nearly killed us!"
The little girl said nothing, but dusted herself off, looking a little hurt, and still staring at them.
"Ron, don't be so harsh on her, she's new!" admonished Hermione. Then turning her attention to the new girl she said, "Now, what's your name, you look lost..."
The girl said nothing, but stared past them, her eyes wide with fear. She tried to run past them, but Herminie stuck out her arm and stopped her. 'Hey, where do you think you're going? Aren't you even going to apologise?"
The girl stopped struggling, picked her bag up off the ground, and ran away in the opposite direction. 'Darn Slytherin," said Hermione, "Always think they're better than us..."
"I can't believe you said 'darn' said Harry as they walked off, talking amongst themselves as Severus Snape accompanied his double down the hall; unaware of the encouragement he had unintentionally given Harry Potter, the boy who he hated.
**********
As Sev entered Snape's rooms, the first thing he noticed was...how cold they were. It wasn't just the temperature, but the whole place seemed designed to send shivers down his spine. The floor and walls were made of cold, grey stone, the furniture crafted from fine, but almost black, wood. The rare rugs that were in this room were threadbare, little more than a huge drop strict that had been laid on the floor. The room was, in so many words, Spartan.
No. It was, it was like someone had taken a Spartan room and removed anything and everything that made the room warm. The fireplace was sooty, and looked like it hadn't been used in years, the candles looked as though they were made from ice, and the windows were a colour that made even the light seem freezing. It reminded him a lot of his parent house, well that was before he had sold it after they'd died.
"Are you sure this isn't a morgue?" he asked.
"What, too cold for you?" Sneered Snape.
"No." he answered quickly, "It's just, a lot colder than I expected."
"I expect it is." Said Snape, in a voice that seemed mocking, but not in a way that could be defined.
"You...get a lot of people down here?" he asked.
"No. I work alone."
"Good. I suppose I could use the classroom for a quick report to the department of Metaphysic's?"
"There's nothing to stop you." Said Snape neutrally, as he performed a spell for a bed to appear, " there. You've got a place to sleep. I'll be in my office if you need me. I have work to do."
"Thanks." Said Sev, sarcastically. As Snape left the room his threw off his coat and scarf, and opened his wallet, searching through for something. He took out a wizard photo, and he looked at it for just a second before he whispered, more to himself than to any casual observer, I "I'm doing this for both of you."/I and he found himself smiling a little. He put the picture on the bed Snape had conjured, throwing the wallet down, letting the possessions spill out, and then walked out into the classroom.
He walked in the old dungeon, and memories, memories that didn't belong to this place began to flood into his mind. The happy hours he'd spent doing extra potions work, the time he'd spent with James, Lily, and Remus doing potions revision on the seventh year, under Lily's insistence, the time when all of them got into trouble and had taken refuge in here. Severus had been glad that Professor Hall, the old Potion's master, had been particularly sympathetic as Snape had been his favourite pupil. James, Sirius and Remus had given him some stick about that, but they were glad of it in the end.
Severus forgot his memories again, and rolling up his sleeves, flicked his wand while saying, I"Uipime Sturiteni"/I. It only took a few seconds before what looked like a large hole in space, a bit like a TV screen appeared in mid air. There was an image in it, in black and white, grainy and blurry, but you could make out some figures in it. If you looked carefully enough, you could see Professor Dumbledore, but obviously not the professor Dumbledore that was here, because he sat in a place that was filled with crackling wires and various wizards trying to fix up some of the machinery with wands. It was definitely not the world he occupied now as James Potter was standing in the background, looking as if he had just got off his broomstick, shouting at someone with acid green hair and bright yellow eyes, half in English, half in Psyxen. Business as usual at the Department of Metaphysic's. If Fudge ever found out, he'd blow his top.
"Professor?" he asked. Dumbledore, James and yellowed eyes man turned around at the same time, as if they had only just noticed him.
"Sev." Said the image of James Potter, the word jumpy as is the connection was faulty, "what....too...k....you...so...long."
"I was detained, they caught me and, well, I've been chained up and questioned for the better part of a day."
"Are you...all right?" asked the Yellow eyed man in cracked English.
"Yes Doctor, nothings missing."
"Good."
"I told them what you wanted me to tell them." Said Severus, "can I come back?"
"Did...you...tell the...Ministry?" asked Dumbledore, but the image was fading and blurring.
"No."
"You....Must.... Tell them..." but the rest of the sentence was too cracked and muffled to hear what he said.
"I'll go to the ministry, but is Michael okay?"
"Michael....fine...But go to....the ministry."
"Yes sir, but it might take some time." As he said the last word, the image faded away, and Sev cursed in the style of the Snape family. As hard as possible. The placed his wand back into his robes, and for some reason, a wave of nostalgia came over him. He hadn't been back here for at least twenty years. He walked around the room, and sat at his old chair, Nothing much had changed. He remembered when he had first arrived here, he felt like he'd know this place like the back of his hand before he had left because he had ended up spending so much time here, being a good student.
That was possibly why people hadn't like him until his sixth year, when he, in so many words, began to loosen up. It was Lily's fault. He had become her friend at the end of the fifth year, and then, in turn had become Remus's friend, and after a two-night cram for a Charms exam, he had managed to gain the trust of Sirius and James who had managed to get top grades. He remembered once how he had helped James with his homework, and Professor Hall had almost fainted when he saw the grade. Severus had never let on it was partly his work, although he had never let him copy. That was the rule of the clever students, it seemed. Always help, never copy. Except in extreme circumstances.
As he sat at his desk, remembering his life, he looked at the table. He had, as most seventh years at the time, taken the liberty of leaving their mark on some part of school property, other than trophies or otherwise. He had taken a quill and spent a lesson scratching in I Sev 4 Rya /I. But it wasn't there. He saw a newer mark of ICedric 4Cho /I and one of IFred + George woz 'er/I in what looked like burn marks, but his mark was missing. He suddenly realised that a pair of eyes were looking at him, almost boring into his skull. He looked around.
He saw a little Slytherin girl, the one with the bandaged wrists and those eyes that expressed more than words could. Almost the second he looked around, She ran away, but not before she let it be known by her stare that she was incredibly displeased.
*****
It was while this happened that Snape found that he couldn't work. He was in one of those moods that even giving Potter a 'D' couldn't help him continue. He couldn't sit down and work at anything, his mind felt like a simmering potion. He thought he might make a potion, just to calm his mind down, but when he reached his office door, he heard the other Severus Snape talking to someone. Deciding that he didn't want to get involved, he went to his room to get a book from his bookshelf.
It was as he passed the extra bed so clumsily placed in the middle of the room his mind began to wonder. He picked a book off the shelf, but as he stared at the contents of the wallet, strewn on the bed, he started to think. It was possible that the other Severus Snape had formed immunity to Veritaserum, and just as possible that he had charmed his appearance to look like himself, while almost managing to convince Dumbledore that he was in fact him. Dumbledore was always too trusting. Snape didn't trust himself, he had to find out. He put the book casually on the table, and sat on the bed, looking through the papers.
Identification paper, all in the name of Severus Snape, almost identical to his own, Auror's papers, he didn't know much about the papers they carried, but he saw enough to see that they were his own, a letter from Dumbledore, addressed to him, asking him to come, some other various bank statements, all in the name of Severus Snape. ISnape, Snape, Snape...where's the evidence? It can't be! I know he's lying... /I. It was at this point that he noticed a picture lying on the bed. He dropped the other papers on the floor, and picked it up. It was a wizard photo, so the people in the picture were moving around a bit, but he knew the people in the picture.
There was a woman, a woman he recognised from school. It was Rya Gerieya, a Death Eater he had known. She was, apart from Peter Pettigrew, the only known Gryffindor Death Eater. He had a stupid attraction to her when he was in the Death Eaters, and it was as if the Photo had brought back all the memories of being a Death Eater.
He remembered how she had agreed to go on a date with him, for whatever reason she had, and they had got on quite well, she even allowed him to have Sex with her, but he had known that this was more to do with the fact he was a Death Eater than the fact she was attracted to him. He had even thought he had loved her, in a fit of young passion, but he soon learned that he didn't. He learned he didn't when The Dark Lord decided that she had been holding a secret against him, and had used the Cruciatus curse on her. She had writhed in pain, screaming on the floor, and Snape had wondered why he hadn't died when he watched her. He felt as if the curse had been acted on himself, but it hadn't. Tiredly he had watched, unable to do anything. It was at the moment when she looked up into his Ebony eyes, and he saw the expression of fear and death wish in her eyes that he felt himself begin to want to move. But he couldn't, and that was because he was a Coward.
Voldermort had continued to torture her, in front of his eyes, and he had let a few tears run down his face, pretending that the dust she dislodged in the old room caused them. Finally she had screamed out that she did know which Village the Potters were in, and with that information Voldermort had killed her. The group of Death Eaters had moved on, leaving him alone with her. He hadn't used Avada Kedavra on her, no; he had simply picked up a poker from the dirty fireplace and bashed her head in, wounding her body, and left her body like one would leave a dead rat. He had stayed their, tears running down his face; unable to stop himself crying as he cradled her weakened body in his arms. He remembered that the last thing she said, as he looked into her bright, sea blue eyes, was 'who will cry for the doomed children?' as if she knew something.
Her blood on his hands, he had cried, her body turning stone cold. He had been young, weak, emotional as he had dragged her body to the hill near Little Hangleton and buried her body in a shallow grave, with no more than a cross made of two sticks and a torn sleeve to tie them together to signify where she lay.
The same woman who he had buried before turned sides was in this photo with his other self; smiling gently, laughing a little, hold his other self, the other Snape by the shoulders. It outraged him! How could she smile, didn't she know she was dead! Why was it that the photographs never got it right? There were pictures of people smiling who would die the next day, or frowns when they would be laughing soon. How could that be right? How could one of the few women he ever though he cared about in any way be laughing at him as if she had defied the grave.
And there he was, smiling, looking a little shocked at the small bundle in his arms. A bundle he had never seen before, but his other self knew very well. It was a baby. A small, but perfect baby in his arms as he cooed over it, playing with it. It was probably at this moment he realised that it must be his own child, in a way. Rya and he had a baby, they had maybe been married, but they had a child together. His face drooped. How could this be? She had died seventeen years ago, how could she be in this photo? It was impossible; it couldn't be, not if the other Snape and he were the same person.
Was this proof that they weren't, or was it that he couldn't take his eyes off the picture? It was the like the mirror of Erised, but more real. His whole face was at a loss for what expression it should be in, so it was slack, jaw open, eyes wide in an expression between disbelief and longing.
He stared at Rya, looking so happy as she held him, him as in Severus Snape, laughing, and he cooed, playing with the baby. He watched the scene, over and over again, like a video recorder stuck at one scene. He couldn't put it down. They looked so...happy together. She didn't look like she didn't want to be there, or like she was only with him because she pitied him, which was the usual case, but because she actually I liked/I him, she might even have loved him as much as he thought he did...
"Um, Snape, do you...WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING?" shouted Sev as he came in the room, "going through my things!" he snatched the photo out of his hands and sneered, "You didn't trust me, so you thought that you'd make sure..." Severus looked like he could have hit Snape, "I shouldn've known..."
"Well, that's what you get for leaving your things around, 'Sneered Snape, right back, "If you're in someone else's home, you should at least keep things to yourself."
"I thought you were marking paper, not going through mine to see if I was lying!" snapped Sev, "how dare you!"
"Well, if you didn't have anything to hide, why're you so...upset about it, eh?" enquired Snape, seeing he had the upper hand, "Unless there's something in their that I don't know about..."
"Go ahead, look!" shouted Severus, "Damn well find something that says my name's bloody Joe I'm-Trying-to-overthrow-the-world, but don't you dare go through my things without permission!"
As Snape picked up the papers on the floor, and stuffed them back into the wallet, he said something he had to know. "Who are the people in the picture you're holding?"
********
Authors notes -
1/I doubt whether Snape would own a wallet, but can we just say he does for the sake of the story, and allow a little more artistic Licence.
2/The fact Our Snape is unemotional when remembering the death of this woman, although he was obviously extremely attracted to her shows that he is quiet emotionally blocked. Okay, that is an extremely pretentious thing to say, but let me say it anyway.
3/There is a picture on Elfwood that I based Rya's death on, and when I find it again, I will give you a link, but for now that's where it came from.
4/ Cliffhanger again! Sorry I won't be able to update again until at least the 26th of July, but I'm going on Holiday and won't have access to a computer.
5/ I was listening to the Album '18' by Moby when I wrote this. Just though you should know.
Thankfully as Always, Xandra the Blue.
P.S Please read and review.