Chapter 3: Faces from the Past

I studied Severus. The first time I'd seen him I'd been waiting for my turn to put on the sorting hat, and he'd been a small boy who looked more like an eight year old then an eleven year old. His nose looked the size of Grandpa's and very out of place on his young face, and black hair had fallen across his face so I couldn't see his eyes and he looked like he hadn't seen the sun all summer. That had surprised me, after all, what kid spends all summer indoors? He'd looked pleased about being sorted into Slytherin and I'd not given him much thought for a while after that, being more focused on my own sorting and interested in meeting, and befriending Sirius Black who's sorting supported my theory.

Severus had been a tough kid, a tough, mean kid who'd grown into a tough, angry man. I know some of it had to do with his home life and some of it had to do with what happened to him at the hands of his classmates at Hogwarts. And I don't mean just the bullying at the hands of James and Sirius but also how he'd fought to appear to Lucius Malfoy like some great dark wizard given his knowledge of the Dark Arts.

Severus is smart, smart and cunning, he always has been. In reflection I was probably never sorted into Slytherin because I'm not cunning enough. To be cunning you have to learn various subtleties, and I'm about as subtle as an enraged dragon in a shop of decorative glassware. It's too bad that for all his brains he decided to invent dark spells for revenge on those who hurt him. I suppose I should add 'hold's grudges based on deep hatred' to the list of his more endearing qualities.

As his lips curled into a sneer I found myself realising something, he's aged. There are lines on his face that hadn't been there last time I'd seen him, and the lines I remember are much more pronounced. But his eyes are as cold and hard as ever; speaking of an innocence he'd lost long before I met him.

"I should have known," he snarled dragging me back to the present. "That you'd find someone else."

I was suddenly reminded of Hooch's comment about someone being after the Defence Against the Dark Arts job and not getting it. I should have known it was him. Severus always did have a fascination with the Dark Arts.

"Why you thought it was necessary to bring her back here, however, is beyond me."

With that he turned on his heel and swept out with his cloak billowing after him. The sound of the massive doors slamming rings throughout a Great Hall that was silent enough you could practically hear the elves in the kitchens bellow.

"Well," said Grandpa. "Since Severus isn't joining us perhaps we should be seated for dinner."

I wanted to protest that I was no longer hungry, but Grandpa fixed me with a look that tells me to do as he says.

- - - - -

Late that evening I'm putting the finishing touches on my office. I finished setting up my classroom hours ago and as I place a few photos on top of my bookcase I realise that everything is now ready for the coming year. The photo's are all old one's of friends and family. The first one shows me with my parents, it's that last photo taken of the three of us before they were killed. The second photo was taken just before I left for Hogwarts for the first time, it showed the entire wizarding side of my family – which I considered to be my entire family since I'd never met dad's side – which was only myself, my parents, Grandpa and great-uncle Aberforth. My grandma wasn't in the picture because she'd been murdered when my mother was only a few months old by some of Grindelwald's supporters who were seeking revenge on Grandpa. As a result my mother spent much of her life growing up away from her father for safety and Grandpa had been careful never to publicly take another lover. Though I knew that he and Minerva McGonagall were involved since I'd walked in on them kissing once. They'd never said anything about it but she'd been the one to take the third photo, which is of Grandpa and I after I'd graduated from the Aurors academy. The fourth frame actually contained five smaller photos of me with my best friend Lilly Evans, who I'd befriended when Grandpa had told me to make friends with muggle born students, and consequently she had become my best friend at Hogwarts. The fifth, and final, photo had been taken just before I'd left Hogwarts for the final time in seventh year and showed Lilly, James, Sirius, Remus and I standing just outside Hogwarts doors. Peter Pettigrew had been in the photo but with a bit of tricky charm work I'd erased him.

"Hogwarts holds many memories for you, doesn't it."

I'd been expecting him to come up all night so his appearance didn't really startle me.

"Memories of a time of innocence," I replied turning to face Grandpa who was standing in the doorway to my office. "I'd been expecting you to show up earlier."

"I wanted you to finish unpacking before I intruded."

I folded my arms across my chest. "Alright, I'm unpacked."

He sighed, "You're making this much more difficult then it has to be."

"You wanted to talk to me about Severus, who you forgot to warn me was here."

"Your straightforwardness is refreshing after all my dealings with the ministry."

"Severus," I reminded him bluntly wondering if I should comment on his straightforwardness.

"You knew he was here years ago when I appointed him as Potions Professor. You also knew that he was most valuable to both sides if he was still here. So any illusions you had that he might not be were simply tricks of your own mind."

I held back a wince as I walked over to the window, I knew I'd asked for straightforwardness but I hadn't expected quite that level of bluntness from him. "I wish you'd have warned me. I wasn't ready to see him tonight."

"I was worried that if you knew he was here you wouldn't come. I know how your trust in him was shattered…"

"My trust in you was shattered too," I cut in angrily not wanting to discus my past with Severus since some wounds ran just too deep. "But you've done nothing to win it back."

"What would you have me do, child?"

I looked over my shoulder at him. "Stop calling me child. I'm not a child anymore, but you keep treating me like one." Looking back out the window at the darkness settling over the forbidden forest I continued; "When I was little I used to tell you everything and I thought you did the same for me. But you didn't. Ever. I always got half truths or bits and pieces, but never enough to really know what was going on."

"I never lied to you. Perhaps I never told you the complete truth, but I never told you a lie."

"Is that like you told the truth 'from a certain point of view' to quote a muggle movie."

"Yes," he admitted.

"You did it to Harry too," I said refusing to acknowledge the fact that he'd moved so that he was standing behind me.

"How did you know that?"

I smiled bitterly. "Because you and Harry weren't Sirius' only correspondents. You forgot that I never thought he'd betrayed the Potter's to Voldemort, and when I'd insisted it couldn't have been him and you said it had I resented you for having the same narrow-minded views as my father. Sirius told me how you were keeping Harry in the dark about many things, trying to keep him safe, and it worried me. It worried me because you'd done the same to me and because of it I almost ended up in more trouble then I could handle. I thought you'd learned from that. But you didn't, and now Sirius is dead."

"I never knew you were in that close contact with Sirius."

"He was like my brother, I wasn't just going to abandon him. But that's not the point."

"I know." Grandpa's silent for a long moment. "Do you honestly condemn me for trying to keep other's safe?"

"People don't like to be kept in the dark. And they stop trusting the people who do that to them."

"I have no excuse for Harry other then the fact that I was trying to ensure that he had somewhat of a normal childhood. But you're my granddaughter, and I was trying to protect you."

"I can protect myself."

"I know." He said softly. "But can you blame an old man for wanting to keep what's left of his family safe? I lost my wife to Grindelwald's men, my daughter to Voldemort and I didn't want to lose my granddaughter as well."

"What about McGonagall? Do you try to keep her safe by telling her half truths as well?"

"I fail to see what Minerva has to do with this."

I snorted. "Can we just be honest with one another for once? I know you love her."

"It would be best if that information did not get around."

At least he didn't ask how I knew.

"And what about Severus?"

I clenched my jaw. "I won't try to injure him if that's what you wanted to know."

He sighed. "No, you did that last time. As I recall he ended up with a concussion, broken fingers and a broken nose."

"I broke his nose? I didn't think I hit him hard enough for that."

"You may not have hit him hard enough to break the average person's nose."

I turned to stare at him trying to determine if Albus Dumbledore - who never ever had anything poor to say about anyone - had just slighted the fact that Severus had a large nose.

Giving up I said, "So what about Harry?"

"He's hardly your concern."

"I promised Lilly I'd look out for him."

"I'm going to show him some memories I've been collecting that are related to Voldemort's rise. I'm not going to let you see them."

I wondered if I should argue but he continued;

"It is simply because Harry will be the only one other then me to observe these memories because they may be crucial to helping him defeat Voldemort. Yes he's the only one who can do it, and I expect you to keep that quiet because you are the only one besides him and myself who knows that."

"I can keep a secret."

"I'm also going to attempt to teach him Occlumency with hopefully more success then Severus experienced."

I stared at him as if he'd suddenly grown another head. "You mean to tell me that you had James Potter's son learning Occlumency from Severus Snape?"

"I had been hoping that Severus could be able to overcome his childhood grudge…"

"We're talking about the same Severus who holds a grudge against the sun because it burned him once."

"I'd say that's a bit of an exaggeration," Grandpa said dryly.

"Well he doesn't like to go out in the sun because he always got burnt as a boy when he father demanded that he help with yard work."

"I never knew that."

"Obviously you never tried to get him to go outside."

To my surprise Grandpa laughed. "I knew you couldn't have only ill will for him."

My mood soured. "I'm not forgiving him for what he did."

"Sometimes child, we need to give the gift of forgiveness to others in order to make ourselves better people."

"I can never forgive him for what he did. And don't try to talk to me about it because he is the one topic of conversation I refuse to discuss."