Disclaimer: The plot and OFC are mine, but Severus Snape and the world of Harry Potter belongs to the stupendous J.K. Rowling. Warning: Features a kinder Snape, but here's hoping the git can turn out to be all right in the end. I like hope, hope is good.

Severus

Part Three of Five

Twice in his life, Severus Snape was blinded by Lucius Malfoy. The first time was when he was a young man with already shaded vision, embittered by a difficult childhood and skewed Slytherin ideals. He walked willingly into the trap and began to take pleasure in exhibiting power over those less talented and more trusting than he. Severus Snape dreamed of wreaking havoc on those who'd taunted him throughout school and Lucius Malfoy was right by his side, drawing out his dark thoughts and twisting his intentions.

Most would think he'd have been lost by then. Albus Dumbledore saw him differently. That one man – infuriating as he had penchant to be – pushed back the shadows so that Severus Snape could see the blood on his hands. And he hated it. So he changed.

It wasn't as simple as that, of course, but sometimes the specifics need to be forgotten. Only one thing remained at the forefront of his mind: he would never have another enemy like Lucius Malfoy.

Sitting now in the Hog's Head and staring hard into his drink, Severus Snape thought of what sat in his pocket. It reminded him of harder times, of the hardest day he experienced never mind all the battles he'd taken part of, the lives he'd finished. It reminded him of when blindness has claimed him a second, far more literal, time. A simple sheaf of parchment spellotaped shut with one name scrawled across the front brought back a rush of memories he'd rather glean over than relive.

"Professor Snape?"

He didn't answer her at first, instead drawing down a long swallow of his drink before carefully setting down the tankard. The remains slid down to the bottom and he watched them pool together as she sat down across from him.

"Professor Snape?" She asked again in that same slow drawl. It had never made him cringe before, but it did now.

"Potter, you graduated three years ago, surely you've gotten the point that you no longer need address me as Professor," he said lowly. His face contorted in what could only be called a smile, but it was so rarely seen on his face that that conclusion was questionable.

She laughed at him. She always did. Brushing back her red hair and giving him that Malfoy grin, she teased, "I'll just call you Severus then. Or should I say what Da says? It's rather rude, but you may like it."

"Twit," Snape grumbled, refusing to show how much she truly delighted him. To do so would give her the upper hand and who knew what she would with the knowledge.

"Such a thing to say when I've made time for you! Not even my fiancée gets a visit when he demands it. Really, Severus, you're quite special." She picked up his tankard and looked disappointed to see it was empty. "Would you rather I left?"

"No." Snape looked up at her. "I wanted to tell you Happy Birthday."

She gave him an incredibly pleased - almost smug - smile. "Thank you. Mum and Da are having a party tonight. Would you like to come?"

He waved off the invitation; there were more important things at hand than a silly party that hadn't stayed a surprise. "I have something for you."

"A present?" Clapping her hands together, she leaned forward with mischief written all over her face. "Dare I ask if it's expensive and rare? I won't settle for anything less."

On another day he would have laughed, she had that effect on him though he'd never tried to evade it. Instead, Snape stared as her hair fell forward over her shoulders. It was as red as the blood in his memories and his insides twisted as everything came rushing forward.

Struggle was of no use. It would all come back one day anyway.

Snape braced himself for when Draco would stop staring out the classroom door and look at him instead. There was no fear there, but he couldn't ignore that this could be a confrontation to rival the ages. As Harry and Ginny's footsteps slowly faded away, the boy finally turned to face him.

"What do you know of this?" Draco demanded.

Snape raised his eyebrows but began to clean off his desk of scattered papers and flasks of potions. "What makes you think I know anything of it?"

"You in the Order are as thick as thieves when it comes to those who have proven themselves." He folded his arms over his chest. "Tell me. I want to know right now."

"I know what you do," Snape lied smoothly. "Mr. Potter has established yet again his foolishness and brought someone else along this time. I don't know why you bother to wonder about it."

"Because we both know very well that he is not the father of that child!" Red splotches were high on the boy's cheeks, but it was nothing compared to how all of the air in Snape's body escaped in one fell swoosh. He should have known Malfoy would figure it out.

Scowling at the boy, Snape said slowly, "And why would I think that your abysmal – and thankfully short - courtship with Mrs. Potter has anything to do with her pregnancy?"

"You can count as well as I do. Besides, we both know Potter's as much a virgin as Moaning Myrtle. Bloody idiot probably wouldn't know where to stick it anyway."

Inside he supposed the boy was right, but Snape didn't let it show. "Your interest in Potter's sex life is disgusting and unwarranted. Now unless you have something else to talk about, I must ask you to leave as well."

Furious, Draco kicked a desk and yelled, "Tell me!"

"Mr. Malfoy, control yourself!"

"You're punishing me, aren't you?" Draco kicked another desk, knocking this one over. "For not joining your precious Order, for not turning just like you. Well, I'm not you! Are you ever going to understand that?"

"I understand, Mr. Malfoy," Snape put his hands on his desk and leaned forward, "that you are whining over losing something you willingly gave up in the first place. Now stop being such a child and accept that it's gone."

The boy seethed, but stared back at him with defiance in his eyes.

"Not everything you've given up is gone, however," Snape added carefully.

Draco went pale and the sneer on his face dropped into a mask of indifference. "I will not discuss this with you."

"I can ignore your wishes just much as you can ignore mine," he replied. "Hear this, Mr. Malfoy, just because the mark is on your arm it does not rule you. I'm proof enough for that."

"You're proof?" Draco laughed out loud and the ugliness echoed off the walls. "You, who have lived a life commanded by Dumbledore's ideals, isn't that a mark of another kind?"

His rebuff stung, but Snape replied, "If it is, it's the mark of what's right."

"What's right?" Draco ran his hand over his head, frustration evident. "Being a proper little bloke and doing what someone else tells you to? Fighting for the freedom of people who you don't give two damns about you only to give yourself over to do-gooders who will go with their own opinions and not even consider yours?"

They'd skirted this conversation only months before and Snape knew exactly what the boy was getting at. He was very much like his father in that way. "Contrary to what you think, power is not everything, Mr. Malfoy."

Draco sneered at him. "It isn't? You've gone soft. I can only imagine what my father will do when he gets his hands on you."

"I do not give two damns about what you father thinks," Snape shot back, using the boy's own words. "And neither should you."

"Well, what if I don't?"

"You've yet to prove to me otherwise. There was a time when you came close, but then you ran. You always run, Mr. Malfoy. Why is that? If anything you are ruled by your own fear." He regretted the words as soon as they came out of his mouth and Snape could see him withdraw instantly.

"Then I suppose you won't mind if I leave now," Draco smiled mockingly at him and turn towards the door. "No doubt you'll want to be rid of the weaklings at first opportunity,"

"Mr. Malfoy," Snape said. The boy didn't stop. Desperation came from nowhere and clawed at him; the cruelest inkling that this may just be the last he'd see of this boy made him try one last time. "Draco."

He stopped.

"It's a girl." Snape's hands clenched at his sides. "And you're correct. It's yours."

There was just the slightest deflation of the boy's shoulders; he didn't say anything for a long while and Snape searched desperately within himself for the perfect words. They didn't come.

Slowly, Draco looked over his shoulder, his profile grave. "Is that supposed to make me change my mind?"

Snape stared at him. "Will it?"

His eyes downcast, Draco shook his head. "I don't know. I've never known."

And then he walked away without another word.

Snape had suspected surprises, too. Ages later, his odd kinship with Ginny Potter would reveal their common expectance for many things to go wrong. The battle came earlier than he'd expected; there was barely enough time to race and open the last of the protected floos, pushing through child after child so that they could escape the carnage. Along the way he'd seen Ginny, but she'd disappeared among a group of other children before she could see him in turn.

He wouldn't have left them if he hadn't seen Lucius making his way into the Great Hall; no mask in the world could hide that arrogant stride. They caught each others attention and stood still even as the brawl began around them. There was still enough mutual respect there for the power both wizards held, it mixed with their hate just enough that when Snape attempted to draw Lucius away from the crowd, the other man followed.

Their own battle took place in his dungeons, where he'd stood only hours before with the younger Malfoy. He dodged, chanted, struck and was hit with pain that multiplied by the second. Returning the assault in spades, Snape could see where Lucius was weakening and yet still they fought. It would have been a spectacular sight to behold, but they were the only ones in the room and the lights from their wands were burning. One spell in particular was blinding, literally blinding. Lucius Malfoy had struck again.

As Snape fell to the ground, surrounded by a darkness he'd never known before, he heard Lucius' body hit with a resounding thud. Weakened - by the clash or the knowledge that he'd killed one of his oldest friends he'd never know - Snape tried to crawl towards what he thought was the front of the room. It was hard to breathe and he could feel his own blood streaming down from his eyes. His ears, however, could hear footsteps outside now, running at him and he slumped on the floor as they finally stopped.

"Where is she?" The voice was muddled and Snape knew he was quickly fading. "I need to find her!"

Snape didn't say anything. While his mind raced with thoughts, nothing he did could open his lips to say a word. He barely felt as he was lifted slightly and an incantation sounded at his ears that allowed his lungs to clear just a little. He took a giant gulp of air, but it was nowhere near enough to answer. When he still didn't respond, a hand roughly pushed aside his robes and put something in the pocket there.

"Snape! Listen to me!" The hands shook him now. "Don't try to use the fireplaces, they've already been tampered with."

He nodded numbly. Whoever it was, they only hesitated for a moment before setting him down. The footsteps started again, but now they were running away and it was only then that Snape knew who it was.

"Blimey, Severus, you look like you've seen a ghost." Reaching out, she put her hand over his.

"Perhaps I have," Snape muttered. Setting his mouth in a grim line, he reached into the front pocket of his dark robes and brought out the parchment. Tugging his other hand out from under hers, he forced it into her palm. "This is yours."

She gave him a curious look but glanced down at the letter to see her name across the front. "What is it?"

Snape gave her a scalding glance under lidded eyes. "You always ask the most infernal questions. It's a collection of parchment folded into a shape reminiscent of a letter. Surely you can put the clues together?"

"Well, you don't have to be so shirty about it," she said hotly. "For all I know it could be a love letter and I'd hate to turn you down because I'm quite in love with-"

"It's not a love letter," Snape said through clenched teeth. Sighing roughly, he shook his head. "Then again, it could be. I wouldn't know for I've never read it."

"Why not?"

"I do believe that is your name is across the front not mine."

He didn't want to be here. As much as he cared for this girl, he couldn't be here for this. Snape stood and was two steps away from her when he felt a warm hand on the sleeve of his robes.

"Please… wait," she stared up at him though he didn't look back. "Is it… it's from him, isn't it?"

Snape didn't answer.

"I can put two and two together, you know," she explained evenly. "Yellowed, expensive parchment, it's of a certain thickness we haven't used in years since the before the war ended. Grandpapa's agreement with the muggles over tree conservation saw to that. I've never seen this writing before, but it slants like mine, so that would be hint enough. And then, finally, you. Who else would he have hold it for safe-keeping?"

He let his eyes go to hers at last. "You never were stupid."

"No," she said softly. "Never."

Pulling his arm gently from her, Snape said, "I'll be leaving then."

"Don't."

That's all it took. Snape sat down across from her again. All joviality gone, she stared down at the folded parchment in her hand and then back up to him. "Thank you."

Unable to say anything, Snape only nodded gravely.

"I'm… I'm afraid to open it." There was surprise in her voice and he didn't blame her. She'd lived a life with little fear, unlike those who came before her.

"Don't be," he replied.

She smiled slightly and ran a finger under the edge to break the spellotape.

She opened it and began to read.

More people came and left, some thinking he was already dead and some not. Ginny was among them and she discovered the hex on the fireplace before he could warn her. Then she disappeared, as well; later Harry came with the news that Ginny was missing.

Someone else discovered him after that and took him to what was left of the hospital wing. The softness of the bed was bliss on his aching body and he didn't even jerk when a burning salve was slapped on his eyes, his body was so far gone. In the distance, he could hear Harry begging people to tell them if they'd seen… someone. He was drifting away, along with his distraught questions.

Snape slept.

When he awoke, it was to the warmth of an unseen sun on his cheeks. There was no one near him, but he could hear the rustling and moans of fellow men and women in pain. Not uttering one sound, Snape cocked his head and waited for someone to realize he was conscious.

"Snape."

He'd been waiting for it for nearly an hour, but the voice startled him nonetheless. It was Harry.

"Did…" His voice was hoarse and it was difficult to speak. "Did you find her?"

"Yes." That one word carried so many emotions that it made him recoil. Potter was never good at controlling himself when it came to things such as these. Even so, he wanted to know.

"Is she unharmed?"

"For the most part," Harry answered quietly. He was on the verge of tears, but held himself back, Snape could hear it clearly. "Snape…"

"What," he said flatly. There was something to be said and Harry's dawdling was maddening.

"Malfoy's dead." The other man took a sharp breath. "Both of them."

His heart stopped. "Did you-"

"No. It was Parkinson." Harry's voice cracked. He evidently couldn't hold it in anymore and sobbed loudly. "Oh, gods, Ginny saw it. She was with him. She saw it all."

Snape turned on his side so that Harry couldn't see that he'd been joined in his weeping.

Time passed. A letter was discovered and hidden. Sight taken away was slowly returned. The child was born and named. The years came and went. Defense Against the Dark Arts positions were offered and rejected. He made decisions that affected everything. His life went on. But the pain stayed.

Along the way a girl with red hair and a Malfoy smile came to Hogwarts and sat on the stool in front of the Great Hall for a very long while. She smiled at Snape and waved happily when the conversation finished and made her way to the Gryffindor table. When she appeared early in his dungeon a few days later for Potions, he cuffed her on the side of the head and went though his lecture barely holding back an indulgent grin. She was stubborn, but he'd known her so long that he knew how to make her do her schoolwork and do it well. He taught her to excel in potions and she left tacks on his seat.

Where he called almost all students by their surnames, she was among the few that warranted conversation on a first-name basis. That is, unless he was particularly annoyed and only then was she relegated to Potter. She would tease him and he would scowl, but theirs was a camaraderie that puzzled others. They couldn't bring themselves to care. He watched her grow from a charming slip of a girl to a strong-willed young woman and when rumors came about, he let himself laugh out loud in an empty dungeon. Only a fool would deny that she could break a man's heart with a slant of her eyes.

When she fell in love, he quietly prodded her along.

In his most solitary moments, Snape would almost let himself admit that when he spoke to her, he saw a tall boy with blond hair. When she smiled the same smile, he would all but consent that in his mind the boy hadn't run away and died. Instead, in Snape's most hidden of dreams, he'd stayed and done what could still be done, changed where change was possible. And sometimes, but not quite, he'd come clean with the fact that everywhere he'd gone wrong with the father, he was trying to make it right with the child.

With her, he would not fail.

The crumple of parchment caught his attention. She was slowly folding it shut and tucking it away in her pocket as he watched and only when it was out of sight did she look at him. Her eyes, though the color a clear copy of her mother's, had the same shape that he'd seen in Narcissa's face once upon a time.

Snape looked away.

"He knew my name." She gestured to her pocket. "How?"

It was a calculated question despite its innocent tone. She was good at that. Snape shook his head as its simplicity weaved itself into his thoughts. How indeed?

"Perhaps…" He looked out the window where the sunshine gleamed brightly on Hogsmeade. Snape took time to notice it now. "Perhaps he trusted that I'd have my say."

Her mouth lifted up in one corner. "I'd say you did."

She smiled kindly and he closed his eyes.

"I've come to the conclusion that there is nothing worse than losing your sight." He spoke carefully; the words flowed out and he didn't bother to stop them. She sat up and listened intently. "You leave yourself open to be led astray. Even if you have an idea of where you're going, it's that much easier to be manipulated. Those who are fortunate have a guide out."

"He was unfortunate then." He should have known she'd understand.

"Yes," Snape said slowly. "He was."

She moved towards him. "I know you tried, Severus. I know you enough to come to that conclusion without it being said. Mum tortured herself enough over this and you have, too. It's time to stop blaming yourself. For all of it, even for all that happened before him."

Snape raised his brows at her and sniffed loudly. "Are you trying to impress on me that it's an easy decision to carry through?"

"I'd like to think that if you put your mind to it, anything is possible." She reached up and thumped his cheek a bit patronizingly. "Stop being so damn Slytherin about it and try to be happy for once. Truly happy. It's quite nice."

Snape shook his head at her and pushed her hand down gently. "Do you know the first thing I remember seeing, truly seeing, was you?"

She smiled. "Really? Do tell."

This memory was a fond one and he allowed it to wash over him. "You were less than a day old. Bright red hair, same as now. Small… you were small."

"And twenty years later, here we are," she drawled. He didn't cringe this time. She sighed apologetically and began to make motions to stand and Snape rose with her. "I'm sorry, but I must go. Try making it to the party tonight, there's fun to be had and I daresay you haven't experienced enough."

"Impetuous brat," Snape said, but his affection betrayed the words. She looked up at him and patted his cheek again.

"You know, this whole Severus thing isn't going to work."

"Isn't it?"

"Grand-Da. I think that'll do." Before he could stop her, she had pulled him into a hug and quickly released him, as if knowing not to test his discomfort. She knew him well. She always would. "I think it'll do just fine."

Twice in his life, Severus Snape's eyes opened to see the world in a different way. The first time around, he took hold of his fresh start though his old life left a mark that could never be erased. With this new sight, he saw more blood and catastrophe then any man had the right to view; it made a difference to know that he was doing the right thing though most times it was hardly a comfort.

The second time his eyes were opened was in a dingy little pub where a young woman with bright eyes and a compelling smile flicked his chin lightly before disapparating from view. He'd seen her prior to this, yes, but this time it was without the shadow of someone lost long before, without a jarring reminder of an entire bloodline of which only she remained. As he thought over this, realization hit like a herd of hippogriffs: without an old friend - an old enemy - she would not be there.

Severus Snape left the pub, pulling his cloak around him to protect from the autumn-chilled air. The day reminded him of twenty years before where he'd held an infant and said her name for the first time. As he made his way back to Hogwarts and to his dungeons, he thought perhaps things had worked out just as they needed. And, silently, he thanked Lucius Malfoy.

A/N: I love reviews and welcome constructive criticism. Care to indulge me a bit?