Fanfiction based in the world of Harry Potter, created by JKR. Her characters are hers. Original characters are mine. Please see first chapter for full disclaimers and description.

You knew it couldn't be that easy. Poor Snape just doesn't know how to deal with all these conflicting emotions and his past. We had to have a good row. It won't be the last. I love a snarky Snape. He goes a bit beyond snarky to downright nasty here, but he has reasons, poor guy. He spills his guts to Rowena about his past, why he went Death Eater.

Chapter 9: Dwelling in Darkness
Rowena strode briskly across the front lawns, adjusting the toys, books and blankets in her large satchel as she went. She wasn't late, yet… but only just.

Severus was already there, waiting by the Thestral—ONE Thestral, again. Her heart began to pound nervously. Hagrid was standing nearby looking rather sheepish, and wouldn't meet her eyes.

"Severus, listen, why can't we just walk to Hogsmeade and then apparate to the hospital? It would really be faster in the long run."

"No," he said firmly, "We ride. You insist on carrying half of Diagon Alley's toyshop with you, and you could be easily attacked along the way. Thestrals are safer."

"We walked last night—and in the dark. I can't imagine we wouldn't be equally safe now. Really, I don't know why I didn't think of it before. I can just Reduce the bag until we get there…."

"NO" he said commandingly, "I said we ride. Pettigrew could be about today. Now, do you mount on your own, or do I assist you?"

Rowena looked about somewhat wildly, as though looking for an escape. Her eyes lighted upon Hagrid and she looked at him imploringly.

"Hagrid, can't we get another Thestral, then? It really seems a cruelty to make one carry us both," Rowena asked, feeling slightly panicked. She felt incredibly emotionally vulnerable after their discussion last night. The thought of riding so closely to him all the way to London gave her shivers of equal measures fear and anticipation.

Hagrid continued not to look at her, and instead gave Severus a look that might have been accusing before he responded, "He's strong enough fer both of you without a problem, Professor Lupin. There won't be no more comin' today. I'll see what I can do next week, though."

Severus smirked at him and nodded, "I'm sure you will, Hagrid. Rowena? Are we going or not?"

With a sigh and no small amount of trepidation, she mounted the beast. Severus swung gracefully up behind her and reached forward around her to hold onto the mane. It seemed to Rowena that he was holding his arms closer to her than he had last time, and perhaps a little more tightly than necessary.

"St. Mungos, London," he said, and they were off.

Once again she spent the nearly hour-long flight in painful awareness of his body against hers. She was certain that he was sitting closer to her than he had done last time, though she would not have believed such a thing possible. She could feel the full length of his long, thin legs pressed against hers, and her back was firmly in contact with his chest. She even imagined that she could feel the beating of his heart against her, though that was likely only the wild pounding of her own. Occasionally it felt as though he was stroking his jaw against her hair, but surely that was just fanciful imaginings on her part!

It was not an unpleasant feeling to be so close against him—not in the least. His body was like iron—hard and strong, but also warm, so that she could not remember ever feeling so safe and protected. She had even forgotten to be aware of the height, so consuming was her awareness of him. It was cold to travel at such altitudes, but his warmth around her kept her from feeling the chill. She actually felt a disturbing heat that she could not describe.

At some point toward the end of the flight, she stopped resisting her body's urges and relaxed against him, leaning her head back against his shoulder. This time there was no mistaking his actions as he tightened his arms about her further and leaned his cheek against the top of her head. It was almost cozy!

At last they landed and he dismounted first, holding his hand out to her to help her down. When she met his eyes, they were dark and stormy with some unknown emotion. She didn't think he seemed angry, though. In fact, he offered her an almost triumphant expression as he asked, dryly, "Did you enjoy the flight, Professor Lupin?"

Suddenly she knew! She looked at him in shock and said accusingly, "You made sure there was only one Thestral! And you made poor Hagrid lie about it!"

He gave her a rather feral grin that none the less brightened his face, "Oh, yes, I did manage to send the others off just before you arrived. But no, I did not "make" Hagrid lie. He would not agree to it. I only told him he was not to tell you what I had done. If you had asked him directly, I'm sure he would have told you the truth.

"One more example, I'm afraid, of how you must never trust a Slytherin. We will go to any lengths to get what we want. You almost spoiled it by insisting on walking. I suppose now that my secret is out, I will have to submit to walking in the future."

She blushed brilliantly, but still met his gaze defiantly as she took his arm, "Riding suits me fine, thank you."

He raised an eyebrow doubtfully, but seeing that she was sincere, he gave a slight, triumphant smile and nodded, leading her into the building.

The orphan's ward was boisterous and noisy. It was a nice day, and the kids were longing to be outside. There were only two small babies today, but there were three more toddlers and young children. Katrina was still there, and remained quietly apart from the other children.

Several of the children ran to Rowena, throwing themselves at her and leaping into her arms for hugs and kisses and all manner of displays of childish affection. Severus stood aside and observed in silence. He had been so absorbed in his thoughts that he was taken by surprise when a tiny hand slipped into his. He looked down to see Katrina's haunting blue eyes staring up at him. Instinctively he squatted down to her level. To his nearly overwhelming astonishment, she wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed his cheek!

He was completely without the power of speech. His was a face to make babies cry and small children run screaming in fear! This child's apparent affection for him after only a few visits was almost as disturbing to him as Rowena's. She even radiated the same blind trust in him, as though somehow he had the magic to make all the world right for her.

He would have laughed at the idea, had he not been so overwhelmed. Severus Snape, beloved by damsels in distress. HA!

Still, he did not reject the child's attentions. Forcibly bringing memories of his mother to mind, he gently picked up the tiny child and carried her to a corner rocking chair, where he sat holding her on his lap. She sighed contentedly and snuggled against him, silently.

After a time, he asked her if she would like him to read to her. She quickly scrambled off his lap and retrieved a book, presenting it to him and resuming her place snuggled on his lap. The Universe seemed to be taking perverse enjoyment in tormenting him lately—the book she handed him was "The Witch and the Animagus". Not so fine or well cared for a copy as the one Rowena had altered and showed him yesterday, but the same story none the less.

Katrina's English had improved dramatically over the last few days already, helped along occasionally by gentle refreshment of the translation charm Rowena had used originally. Still, she asked him to read the book in German, and he did not refuse.

Rowena looked up at the sound of his melodious baritone voice. She didn't understand the words, but the sound was nearly hypnotic. The picturesque of the dark man and fair child even more so. Her eyes blurred for a moment and her throat constricted with the wave of emotion that passed over her.

She saw, where others could not hope to understand, the simple, ironic beauty in those two hurting souls finding comfort with each other. One a former Death Eater, one a victim of Death Eaters. Grown man and little girl. Opposites in nearly every way, yet two sides of the same coin. Katrina had recognized him at once as a kindred spirit.

The nurse came in and had a few moments quiet conversation with Rowena while the children played with their new toys and gifts she had brought. Smiling, Rowena then went over to Severus, just as he was finishing the story.

"The children would like to play outside, but the nurse can't take them alone, there are just too many of them. Would you like to help me maintain controlled chaos in the courtyard so they can get some fresh air?"

He snorted at this, but stood at once. Katrina clung to him so that he was carrying her easily, wrapped around his side on his hip as though he always carried three-year-old toddlers as a matter of course.

"Very well. It can't possibly be any worse than keeping adolescents and pre-adolescents away from the lure of the forbidden forest."

Rowena beamed at him, but the nurse was looking at him appraisingly, a worried frown on her face.

Once outside, Katrina tore herself away from him long enough to play with balls and jump ropes in the sunshine. She even was drawn to the Thestral and went over to it. Most of the children, to Rowena's sorrow, seemed to be able to see the creature, but only Katrina was bold enough to pat it.

Rowena wandered among the children playing with them, twirling the jump rope, throwing a ball, or playing chase as she was requested. Severus merely sat on a centrally located bench and observed, attempting to maintain his usual air of indifference. He did rouse himself enough to perform a minor curing spell on a scraped knee when a boisterous game of tag ended in a spectacular bodily crash and minor injuries.

The nurse also observed, and during a time when Rowena was otherwise occupied and Severus was alone, she approached him and spoke with him in low tones for a few minutes. He looked at her piercingly, and when the tete-a-tete was over, his usual impassive scowl had a worried edge.

Eventually they took the children inside. Severus sat in his usual corner, kept company by Katrina who often sat on his lap or otherwise played near him. Rowena helped the nurse with distributing the evening meal, feeding and changing babies, bathing the children before bed, and tucking them all in at bedtime.

Severus watched her enjoyment of the children and particularly the babies with discomfort. She seemed to know just how to swaddle them and hold them to ease their crying. Often, she unconsciously rubbed her nose through the soft hair of whatever infant she was holding as she rocked and hummed them to sleep. He didn't know why, but this annoyed him greatly.

At last all the children were sleeping, even Katrina, who had fallen asleep on his lap. He tucked her gently into her bed; her golden curls still damp from the bath Rowena had given her, and guided Rowena from the room.

In the courtyard he helped her onto the Thestral and then mounted behind her as before. He felt a primitive sense of something very male when he felt her tremble at his touch and relax against him. He grabbed the mane of the Thestral, encircling her possessively. How had he come to think of her in such terms in so short of a time?

Her body pressed against his was warm and inviting, the fragrance of her silky hair tantalized his senses throughout the flight. He was shocked at the thoughts that passed through his mind as he held her. The wind occasionally lifted her hair from her neck, and he longed to kiss the inviting expanse of flesh there. Her hips pressed so tightly against his lap caused his body to respond in desire, and it required nearly all of his hard-earned self-control not to allow his hands to caress and touch her more intimately than he already was.

At Hogwarts he forced himself back to rationality and savagely suppressed the unwelcome physical response of his body to hers. He helped her off the Thestral and walked her to the castle, wordlessly. She didn't even try for conversation this time, willing to wait until they reached her quarters. He escorted her there and followed her inside as he had done yesterday, sealing the door behind him.

Without preamble he turned to her, "The nurse told me that there have been inquiries after Katrina, people wanting to adopt her. They are Death Eaters, Rowena. The nurse has been holding them off by telling them she is not well enough to leave the hospital, but she won't be able to do so for long. We need to find someplace she can be safe."

Rowena paled and went to the kitchenette to prepare tea as she considered. "Let me talk to Molly Weasley. She mentioned the last time she came with me to the hospital that she was lonely during the school year, now that all her own kids are in school. The Weasley's won't care that she's a muggle-born. If they don't want to adopt Katrina, I'm sure they would at least foster her until suitable parents can be found.

"I never had much 'clout' at the Ministry, but I do have a friend in Social that I can talk to. She might be able to help stall any applications for a while."

He sat and accepted the teacup she held out to him when she brought it, but did not meet her eyes. She was silent, watching him. Something was obviously on his mind, more than the welfare of the child. He would tell her when he was ready, but the suspense was nerve-wracking. HER body was not so easily willed into indifference after the flight!

Contemplatively, he sipped at his tea for several long moments. At last he spoke, though he looked not at her, but at the floor.

"Why have you no children? You obviously like them. You would be a good mother."

She frowned at him in surprise. "I thought that was obvious? I like children well enough, of course. But I think any child deserves two stable parents whenever possible and I haven't been inclined to marry, as we have discussed before. I'm content with my work at the hospital and have no burning desire for children of my own. If it happens, fine, if not, fine."

"I hate children," he said in a dull voice.

"No you don't," she contradicted gently.

"What do you know of the matter?" His voice was louder and suddenly held an edge of anger as his glittering black eyes flew to her face.

"I've watched you with Katrina on three separate occasions now. You might hate what children represent, the idea of having children of your own. But you don't hate actual children."

"Katrina is different," he snarled, "It is my fault she is in her current circumstance."

"I think it's best if I don't argue that particular point with you. You already know my opinion in the matter. Why do you think you hate children?" And then, with the clarity of bits and pieces of a puzzle suddenly falling into place, she asked, "Who was it that beat you as a child?"

He glared at her then, anger rising instantly to the surface so that she thought she could feel it from where she sat opposite him.

"What do you know of that?" he hissed.

"When I treated you, when you came back, I ran the diagnostics…. You have so many old bone scars that some of your bones are held together by nothing BUT scars. Most of them are far too old to have been acquired from your years as Death Eater. When I was in school, apprenticing with my dad, he told me of a Devin Snape that killed his wife, only he got off saying she fell down the stairs. It was part of my dad's campaign to convince me not to be an Auror. Was that… was he…"

"My father. Yes." He stood and walked to the window, his body still tense with rage, his fists clenched.

"Last of the line of Snape until I was born. His father arranged a good marriage for Devin prior to his death. 'Grandpa' Snape, you see, had spent all the original Snape fortune bribing Ministry officials to keep out of Azkaban.

"My mother was from France, from a fine, pure-blood family. She was the last unmarried child of a wealthy widow. Exceedingly wealthy, which was just what the House of Snape needed. She came, sight unseen, and married my father at once. That is the common way for pureblood families to maintain their lineage, as you know. Her mother came with her, which is probably why I exist."

It was surprising to him that he felt so willing to talk about this with her. Never before had he shared his history with anyone. Even Lucius, who sheltered him during the school holidays, did not know the whole story. He was angry, yes; but he wanted her to know the whole truth of this. Perhaps that would allow her to see what sort of person he was in time to flee before she was involved too deeply!

"Grandmum controlled the money, so he had to be on his best behavior while she was around. I don't remember her, she died when I was very small, of what my mother assured me was natural causes, though I still have my doubts. At any rate, she was around long enough for my mother to have one successful pregnancy.

"Almost all successive pregnancies ended in miscarriage or stillbirth from the severity of his beatings. I had a sister who lived for a few hours, but she was grossly premature and had a cracked skull at birth. Her injuries were too extensive for either mother or I to heal, and he wouldn't let her be taken to St. Mungos."

The memory of the tiny, broken baby filled his mind for a moment, and he had to pause. Was it the recollection of holding that baby in his arms when he was merely a young child himself that had disturbed him tonight when he saw Rowena holding babies at the hospital?

He shoved the unpleasant memories aside, cleared his throat to cover any change in his voice from the long-buried emotion, and continued impassively.

"My father was gone for months at a time on 'business'. What that business was I have no idea. He would return and stay at the home only a week or two, but it was enough. My mother tried to shield me as much as possible, but when she was beaten into near unconsciousness, he would turn to me.

"She had been a trained Healer in France, not unlike your father, I suppose. My father would not allow her to work after the marriage, but her training was useful. I learned quickly to perform many healing charms, and create healing potions. It was with her, at her hand, that I developed my early interest and skill in that subject. When my father's rage was spent, he would disappear, and whichever of us was the most capable would heal the other into functioning, and then visa versa.

"His verbal abuse was of a kind with the physical. The only remotely civil thing he ever said to me, after beating me to near death, was 'Whatever doesn't kill you makes you stronger.' That was his goal, you see to make me 'strong'.

"It was in his library that I first found the Dark Magic books. In fact, the actual book I tried to give to you years ago on the train was one I stole from him when I was very young.

"I hated him; but sometimes I hated my mother almost as much. I might have loved her, if I was ever capable of the sensation, but I hated her as well. I hated her weakness. Why didn't she get us out of there? Why didn't she curse him or hex him or kill him so he couldn't hurt us anymore? She always said she loved me, but her love seemed weak.

"I realize now that she couldn't have left. There was nowhere she could have gone that he wouldn't have found us, and killed us. Nor could she kill him without immediate retaliation. I found documentation of that with the help of my new allies after I came to school. He had marked me, so that if he was ever killed, his allies would be able to find me anywhere and kill me at once. She knew that. There was nothing she could do to escape him that would not put my life at risk, and so she stayed.

"When I received my Hogwarts letter, his control changed. As soon as I came here, I would be under the protection of Albus, like all students even now. Once she knew I was safe, she would be able to leave him. If she left him, she would have the legal power to take her money with her, as it had remained in her legal control, even though he allowed her no actual control of it while she lived with him."

He snorted humorlessly at the recollection. How close she had come to freedom at last! Yet she should have known he would never allow her to escape!

"He couldn't afford to lose the money, of course. So on the night before I was to leave for school, he brought me to his library, and summoned my mother as well, and beat her to death. He paralyzed me so that I could do nothing but watch, and kept me there until he was sure she was dead. He then told me I was not ever welcome back once I got on the train.

"You may well wonder why he didn't kill me… but I was his one and only heir, of course. The whole point of the marriage, aside from the money, was to carry on the family name."

He turned from the window and looked at Rowena where she sat listening in rapt horror. She did not speak, though her eyes were bright with unshed tears. Somehow, she felt he needed to say all this, and she would not interrupt until he had done. He had a frightful, evil smile on his face when he continued.

"I did go back, though. Right after I finished school, and after I was initiated into the Death Eaters. I, and a select few of my new "Brothers"—Wilkes, Rosier, Lestrange, even Lucius Malfoy—we had been "Allies" in school, but now we were "Brothers". They came with me when I went back. They watched while I killed my father. Slowly. It took days for him to die. I made certain that he was never allowed the bliss of unconsciousness or insanity to ease his suffering.

"When he was finally dead, I collected the few things I wished to save from the house and placed them in an old barn and took a few things away with me. The rest of the house we burned and leveled to the ground with his body inside it. My Death Eater companions did not participate or interfere in my murder of my father—that was between him and myself alone. But they did help me in the destruction of the house. Nothing is left but rubble."

He reached into his pocket and withdrew his wand. The aura of consuming blackness was heavy upon him and in the room, but Rowena did not flinch away as he aimed the wand almost directly at her. With a wave, he conjured an image, much like a muggle hologram, but life-sized.

"My Father," he spat, savagely.

The image was of a tall, slender man in the early stages of "middle age spread". His pale skin was sallow and lined, he had a paunchy stomach, and gray streaks at the temples of his pitch-black hair, which he wore very short. Aside from these minor changes, the image could have easily been Severus Snape. The eyes, the sharp, aristocratic nose, even the bitter scowl were the same. Severus was the very image and likeness of his father.

"He tried to make me like him, you see, as his father before him and for generations of Snapes preceding them. You see his success. Snapes hate children. Children are not safe within miles of us.

"I hate children."

Severus glared at the image as though expecting it to come to life at any moment. Palpable waves of rage and hate rolled through the room like a flood. His eyes shone with a fiery light that was more than a little alarming. He was plainly not aware of anything else in the room but the ghostly image.

Rowena, however, had had enough. As she had listened she had experienced compassion, horror and rage for what he had suffered, but now she was plainly exasperated. She stood and withdrew her own wand. She banished the hated image and immediately stepped forward so that she was standing where it had been, taking the full brunt of his loathing-filled gaze onto herself unflinchingly.

"Severus, you are not your father!" she exclaimed sternly. "I am so sorry you suffered so much at his hands, and I'm glad that you exacted such a fitting revenge. But otherwise, I must say that that is the most self-pitying tripe I've ever heard in my life!

"You're using your father and your justifiable hatred of him, as an excuse. If you pretend to hate the whole world, you can hide in your comfortable shell of bitter loneliness and consume yourself in guilt and remorse."

He focused his eyes on her, rather than where the image had been moments before. He stiffened, and his face took on a dangerous aspect of wrath. Still, she continued.

"Do you mean to frighten me by the story of how you killed him? Or impress me with how "evil" you were to do it? It sounds to me like he deserved what he got and good riddance. Am I supposed to be shocked at what I now realize was the impetus that drove you to the Death Eaters? Why shouldn't you have allied yourself with people who would help you get your just vengeance?

"Bloody hell, Severus, you are 37 years old—how long are you going to let his ghost control your life? Okay, you look like your father—that does not mean that you ARE your father! You aren't evil and cruel. You aren't lost to Darkness. YOU found your way OUT!

"Look at me, I look like Remus. Does that mean that I'm a spineless coward more concerned with people's opinions of me than I am with doing what's right? Of course not. I am not Remus."

His anger had reached the point of the eye of the storm. A horrible calmness had settled over him, but it was merely the calm in the center of the blinding rage, and he desired nothing more than to lash out and hurt. To prove her wrong.

"Ah, yes. Remus Lupin. And now who is hiding there, Miss Lupin? You pretend to have forgiveness and understanding to me, yet not to him? I, who have committed crimes more heinous than you can ever possibly comprehend, have somehow earned redemption in your eyes?

"I think, perhaps, Miss Lupin, that you have willfully deceived yourself. It is far easier to hold onto anger for some minor deed than to examine your own pitiful existence, is it not? By clinging to hurt from your brother's broken trust and a girlhood gossamer fantasy of a man, you are prevented from having to form any relationships with real men who might make you examine your own failings.

"How very safe and cowardly to shield your heart by filling it with pipe dreams and chimeras that no man can possibly live up to! That way you never have to face the broken trust that was your brother!

"I think I would rather not be the shield behind which you hide from your own demons, Miss Lupin. I am quite aware of and comfortable with my own. I would rather not take on another's. If I hide behind the ghost of my father, as you say, it is to ensure that he never again walks the earth in any incarnation, or through me again causes horror and suffering. I hide to prevent hurting others. You hide to prevent hurting yourself.

"Find yourself another object for your pretend emotions and infatuations. I want none of it…"

Her own rage at last got the better of her, and she swung at him as though to slap his face. "Get out. Get out now. Don't you ever, ever presume to tell me what I feel! You wouldn't know true emotion if a dragon came and burned it into your heart!"

He grabbed her wrist with lightening reflexes that prevented the actual blow, and pulled her close to him so that he was staring down into her eyes with a rage bordering on madness.

"I do not have a heart, Lupin. You would do well to remember that. You are playing with the very fires of hell, and there is no cure for their burn. You think I have found my way out of Darkness—I have not, I have only learned to live within it. I will not warn you again."

He then thrust her away from him so harshly that she nearly fell over backwards, and with robes billowing around him, he stormed out of the room, slamming the door behind him.