Doesn't Remind Me
Summary: AU, WiP: What would've happened if Severus Snape had choose a different path and proved is loyalty to the one who trusted him when no one else did?
Category: Angst/Drama.
Rating: PG-13 to R. For safety, deals with violence and suicidal themes.
Notes: Holy crap, long chapter! Man this was tiring to write. But I'm quite happy with how it turned out (not like the last chapter). I hope you like it too! I want to thank all my reviewers again! You guys are the best! I was not expecting so many people to actually like my story. :) So thanks again, I really appreciate the reviews!
Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter, if I did I'd be rich and not writing fanfics, now would I? Sue me if you wish but the only thing you'll get out of it is my pointe shoes because it's the only thing I've ever bought in my life. Anything recognizable is credited to J.K. Rowling anything unrecognizable can be credited to me, understood? Good. Now I'm going to shut-up so you can read the story!
Ch. 5 - Back To Hell
Harry stared, open-mouthed and in complete shock, at who had just managed to drag himself out from the underbrush.
"Snape?" Ron whispered in complete shock.
"Oh my God," Hermione muttered, bringing her hand to her mouth in shock. A few tears managed to trickle out of her eyes.
The unrecognizable man fell to his knees, breathing in short, haggard breaths. His clothes were tattered and ripped and blood soaked every piece of fabric that was still on the man. The Dark Mark had been neatly cut out of his left forearm. The cut was so deep that Harry swore you could catch glimpses of the bone through the blood. The rest of his left arm was charred, completely black and withered, much like Dumbledore's right hand was. But only this reached all the way up the man's left arm, over his shoulder, and had started to destroy the skin on his chest. The man was shaking uncontrollable, you could tell he was in unbearable pain. The only way you could recognize the man was from his hair. The black, greasy hair that had been the focus of many jokes. The black hair that looked like someone had just attempted a red dye job that didn't work to well. A red dye job in which blood was the main source of dye.
Hermione looked away, she couldn't stand to see the sight before her, it was too grotesque.
Snape looked up and Harry stared into the Professor's face, it looked as if someone had tried to gouge his eyes out. Caked blood covered his face and though Snape was looking at Harry, Harry doubted that the man saw him. It was impossible to tell what injuries Snape had, the blood and the shadows of the forest prevented Harry from being able to see the man fully.
So Harry did the first thing that entered his mind, he ran towards the Professor. But he hit the invisible barrier just feet from where Snape was and was unable to move any closer. Cursing as loudly as he could Harry turned around to face his two friends. He was met with two equal looks of shock.
"It hurts to look at him," Ron whispered, barely audible, "Just to look at him."
"Hermione!" Yelled Parvati Patil as she ran across the grounds to where the three friends were standing. Upon reaching Hermione, Parvati hugged her friend and let Hermione cry into her shoulders, "What happened?"
"This," Harry simply stated, moving away from the invisible barrier so that Parvati could get a clear view of Severus Snape.
"Oh my God! Who is that!" Parvati burst out.
"That, that is Professor Snape," Harry answered sadly, "And there's nothing we can do but stand here and watch him die because we can't get through the bloody invisible barrier to help him!"
Harry looked back at his Defense Against The Dark Arts Teacher and saw that the man had dropped his head and his hair covered his face. He was still shaking but now he had taken his left arm and used it to hug is stomach, where Harry saw that more blood was pouring out, actually pouring out. You could still hear his short gasps for breath. Gasps that were getting weaker and weaker.
Ron started to walk slowly backwards and Harry turned his head to look at him questioningly.
"I, I'll go get a teacher," Ron stuttered, turning and sprinting across the grounds to the castle.
Harry turned around and placed his hands on the invisible barrier. He leaned as close as he could and said, quite loudly, "Professor Snape, can you hear me?"
"Yes," Snape gasped out.
"Well, that's good," Harry continued, "Don't worry, Ron's gone to get help. I'd help you myself but I can't get through this damn invisible barrier Dumbledore put up to protect the students."
Harry sat down on the grass and Hermione kneel down beside him while Parvati stood standing, still in shock.
"Hermione's here too," Harry said, trying to keep his Professor distracted, "You just have to hang on for a little while longer, until Dumbledore gets here."
"No," Snape muttered, "I can't...no more...I, sorry, didn't mean...please, forgive, accident...master...no, sorry...sorry," his voice trailed off.
Harry looked at Hermione, silently asking for answers.
"Maybe, maybe he's reliving it. Maybe Voldemort did something to his mind, made it so he can't forget." Hermione whispered with a shrug.
Harry turned back and address Snape, "Professor, you're not there anymore. Your here, in Hogwarts, you're safe."
"Can't...breathe, die...just kill...murderer, mistake," Snape shuddered and started coughing and heaving. Blood came out of his mouth.
Hermione collapsed into Harry's arms and started crying. Harry just took to staring at the puddle of blood underneath Snape, a puddle that was steadily getting bigger and bigger. He tried to block out his Professor's muttering and gasps of pain. More then once Snape's breathing hitched and stopped for a few seconds, only to continue again.
"Everyone clear!" Professor McGonagall yelled.
Harry twisted around and Hermione lifted her head up and they both saw, for the first time, the crowd that had gathered around them. Professor McGonagall managed to make a pathway through the crowd and Harry saw that Dumbledore and Madame Pomfrey were right behind McGonagall. Ron was there too, and he quickly moved to the front and pulled Hermione up and moved her to the side. Harry quickly got up himself and locked eyes with Dumbledore, who had yet to see Snape.
"Harry," Hermione whispered. Harry looked over at her and quickly moved to the side, allowing Professor McGonagall, the Headmaster, and Madame Pomfrey to see the shocking sight before them.
McGonagall gasped, Pomfrey let out a small whimper, and Dumbledore, Dumbledore stood unmoving. It seemed, for just a split second, that grief had overwhelmed the old wizard and frozen him to the spot. But the Headmaster regained his composure quickly and moved forward, muttering incantations under his breath. He put his hand on the invisible barrier and pushed on it, it didn't move. But Dumbledore continued to push on it and finally, after what seemed like hours, his hand went through the invisible wall.
Dumbledore quickly covered the distance from the barrier to where Snape was and kneeled on the hard ground, made soft by the blood that had collected on it.
"Severus," Dumbledore whispered. To Harry his voice sounded distraught, strained, like the Headmaster was close to tears.
"Severus," Dumbledore whispered again, putting is left hand gently on the man's right shoulder.
Snape jerked away, "NO!" He screamed, "No more, please...just kill me, can't...can't do this. Sorry, master...mercy, please."
Dumbledore quickly removed his hand from Snape's shoulder, "Severus, it is me, Albus. You are here, at Hogwarts, you are safe. You do not have to fear. Voldemort is not here, he cannot hurt you anymore."
Snape looked up and shook his head, causing his hair to part in the middle and create a sort of frame around the man's bloody face. Harry heard the people behind him gasp, this was their first time seeing the destroyed face of their professor.
"Albus?" Snape questioned, his voice hoarse and dry. It looked, to Harry, as if Snape had blinked a couple times, as if trying to see, but Harry couldn't be sure.
"Yes Snape, I'm Albus. Now we must get you up and to the hospital wing. Sitting out here in the cold is not helping you."
Dumbledore wrapped his left arm underneath Snape's right arm and pulled the man up. Harry notice that the former Potions Professor was putting very little weight on his right leg. With the help of Dumbledore the two managed to make their way back across the invisible barrier.
"Madame Pomfrey, if you will," Dumbledore stated loudly. Effectively snapping Pomfrey out of her trance.
"What?" Pomfrey questioned, slightly confused. But once she noticed Snape she seemed to understand and with a flick of her wand a small bed appeared, floating in the air.
"Now Severus," Dumbledore whispered, "Just lay down on this bed." The Headmaster helped is Professor on to the bed, "That's right. Now, I have to replace the defenses around the school but Madame Pomfrey and Professor McGonagall are going to take you up to the hospital wing and I will come see you in a bit."
Dumbledore nodded to Pomfrey and McGonagall, who started walking towards the school, the floating bed following close behind. Harry watched as his Head of House started whispering to his Defense Against The Dark Arts teacher, she even took his hand and held it.
"Now, will all of you please return to the castle. I believe it is close to dinner time, is it not?" Dumbledore stated, smiling warmly at the distraught students.
The large group that had gathered turned around and started walking slowly back to the castle.
"Except for," Dumbledore pointed at Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Parvati, "you four. Please, stay with me for a moment."
The four stopped walking and turned back around to watch the Headmaster who had brought out his wand and pointed it at the invisible barrier. After a few minutes of muttering under his breath Dumbledore turned around and smiled at the four students.
"Come, I think there is need of a little walking and talking," Dumbledore calmly stated.
"Sir, your robes. They're a little, um, dirty," Hermione stammered.
Dumbledore looked at his clothes and his smile faded, "Yes, yes they are. Thank you Hermione. Wouldn't want to walk through Hogwarts like this now would I?" And with a flick of his wand the blood that had soaked the Headmaster's clothes disappeared.
"Now," Dumbledore began as he started walking towards the castle with the four students following, "I gather from Ron that you four were there when Professor Snape arrived?"
"I wasn't," Parvati whispered, "I came after, when Hermione screamed, but, but before everyone else."
"I see, but the rest of you were there, correct?"
"Yes," Harry replied.
"And may I ask how you found Professor Snape?"
"Well, we were just walking along, talking, and we heard a noise from the Forest, like a thud -"
"It sounded like someone fell Professor," Ron interrupted Harry and Harry nodded.
"Then there was silence, I called out "Hello" and then he kind of pushed his way through the underbrush. Then fell when he made it out of the forest and into the clearing."
Dumbledore nodded but made no verbal response.
"Sir, do you think Professor Snape Apparated here?" Hermione asked.
"Well, it seems to be the only logical explanation, doesn't it? It's really quite remarkable that he managed Apparition in such condition. I would have thought that he'd be rendered incapable of performing magic, but I thought wrong. Seems Professor Snape is more resilient than anyone gave him credit for. But I daresay that he had some help."
"Do you mean that you never thought Snape would live?" Harry questioned.
"Professor Snape," Dumbledore corrected absent mindlessly, "And that's correct. I feared that Professor Snape had been the first casualty of Hogwarts staff in this war, and may yet be."
"So, he may not live? Even with your to help?" Fear coloured Hermione's voice.
"I am many things Hermione, but a miracle worker is not one," Dumbledore's voice seemed weighted with grief, "Unfortunately, both Professor Snape and I knew it was only a matter of time before he would be discovered as a spy."
The four students lapsed into silence as they followed their Headmaster to the castle.
Upon reaching the great oak doors Dumbledore stated simply, "Now here we must part paths. I believe it is close to dinner time and I hope that you four will grace the Great Hall with your presence." And with a small smile Dumbledore watched the four students walk down the corridor leading to the Great Hall.
Dumbledore walked slowly down one of the nearly empty corridors, making his way to the hospital wing. The Headmaster was deep in thought and almost walked into the hospital wing door. Instead he caught himself just in time, and with a great sigh he cleared his mind and opened the wooden door. He was greeted by the familiar smell of potions and herbs and the sight of the hundreds of beds with stark white sheets. Dumbledore realized, for the first time, that he didn't really like hospitals and that they were, in fact, probably his most hated place to visit. It always reminded the old wizard of times passed by, times were he sat by beds, identical to the ones that line the walls in front of him, and watched as great friends, and not-so-great-friends, died before him.
Today, he was hoping that he would not have to watch yet another of his friends die before him.
"Dumbledore?" Madame Pomfrey questioned, poking her head from behind a white sheet used to hide the occupants of the bed from others who found themselves in the unlucky position of occupying another hospital bed.
With a sigh that spoke of someone who was about to embark on something that they did not wish to embark on, Dumbledore smiled softly and started the long walk to the opposite side of the room.
"He has been asking for you," Minerva McGonagall sighed, "Pomfrey said he shouldn't go to sleep, he may not wake up if he does."
Dumbledore nodded, "You should go to the Great Hall, the students will start to ask questions if both of us are missing from the evening meal."
McGonagall sighed again and looked directly into the Headmaster's eyes, "If you need anything Albus, anything at all, you just ask me." And with that she took one last look at her fellow, injured professor and left quietly.
"He's doing quite well Headmaster," Pomfrey said, setting down a small tray filled with potions and some food, "I managed to get most of his pain under control and his concentration is better then it was earlier. He's regained some of the eyesight in his right eye, but I fear he'll be permanently blind in his left eye. He is, of course, quite tired but I do not wish for him to sleep just yet. At least, not until you speak to him." And with that Pomfrey smiled and left. Dumbledore knew that she didn't expect Snape to live but that she had merely numbed the pain so that the professor would die as peacefully as they could hope for.
Dumbledore conjured up a chair beside the bed, sat down, and took Severus' right hand in his own.
"Severus, what is the last thing you can remember?"
Snape turned his head to look at his Headmaster. His face had been cleared of the blood but there were many cuts around his eyes and his left eye was foggy, stared at nothing in particular, and looked more grey than black, while his right eye was focused on Dumbledore and was it's usual black colour, "Besides Voldemort torturing me?"
Surprise flickered across Dumbledore's face.
"He is no longer my Lord," Severus spat, "I no longer fear his name."
Dumbledore nodded, "Severus, your memory?"
"The last thing I remember," Snape closed his eyes in thought and weariness, "The Great Hall, the Sorting Ceremonies," he whispered, "How did I get from the Great Hall to Voldemort? And when did Voldemort regain power?" Severus Snape opened his eyes and looked directly at Albus Dumbledore, pleading for answers to the thousands of questions he had, "What did I do? How was I found out? When did I even become a spy again?"
Dumbledore sighed, "What year is Harry Potter starting?"
"What does that have to do with anything!" Snape spat, his voice more forceful then before, "That is completely irrelevant!"
"Please, just answer the question."
"His second. He's starting his second year," Snape growled, clearly annoyed at this unexpected question.
"Severus," Dumbledore began, grief clearly visble in his voice and tears threatening to escape his eyes, "Harry Potter is just about to finish his sixth year."