Spoilers: PS/SS, CoS, PoA, GoF, FB, QTTA.. Written between Goblet of Fire and Order of Phoenix.
Genre: Action, Angst
Era: Multiple Eras
Main Character(s): Severus Snape, Original Female Witch
Ship(s): None
Summary: Siana has found the first of many answers, and Snape has returned from his encounter with Voldemort. When Siana finds herself back at Hogwarts to continue looking for answers about her strange abilities, and her even stranger wand, she encounters a Snape entirely different to the one she knew before. The Death Eaters and Voldemort are hunting her, and she herself is experiencing strange symptoms to the one thing that could possibly help her.
Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

The Only Protectus

Chapter 1; Sanctuary

The leaves seem to mock me.

In fact it's not so much mocking, as a quiet laughter. Amused. It's so funny to them, how I find myself here...brooding and tired. Exhausted from living a life which others abhor and I, I embrace with no large difficulties.

I can't pretend that I don't admire the sinfulness of what I am occasionally.

Yet what I am often finds me here, with the leaves mocking me, yes it's mocking. There is a dark beauty about this place, and sometimes I imagine myself brewing potions in a place like this. Complementing the dark beauty. This is an impossibility, I am out of place in any beauty, whether dark or light. I'm not some gullible moron, I know where I fit and where I do not.

Unfortunately I am the diamond peg looking at the oval hole. Almost there. Almost. Yet there will be no merging, no subtle blending, no cohesiveness. For I am not a sharing person, and I will not adhere like hoof glue if I choose not to.

And I know, I have been made a fool.

I don't carry explanations which are delayed with riddles and rhymes. The Headmaster think he can appease me with hints and tricks, he assumes that I will find out for myself what the answer is. That I even care to. The truth to that, is that I am not patient, nor am I concerned with the answer. I am content to believe what I want to believe, in the knowledge that I am right.

She betrayed me.

There the leaves go again, mocking me again. It's almost as if they would change their shape just to reinforce their message, I wonder if I'm being an imbecile. I severely doubt it. I'm not prone to bouts of fine stupidity, not anymore. Although it seems that others still wish to try to play me for the fool. They've all betrayed me. Even the Forbidden Forest has turned sour on itself. Yet maybe this is just my perception, my penchant for seeing the worst.

Not that I would consider myself unrealistic in my pessimism, nor brutal in my bitterness. There is reason for hostility and rationality in my cynicism. Those that see flaws in it are idealistic or optimistic fools...they may never see the truth in my nature...

But then.

I may never see the truth in my nature.

And all the potions in the world do not stop me from noticing that the leaves still manage to mock me.

His black cloak rippled silently as he stood, and his eyes rippled around his surroundings. His eyes, black, hooded, unfathomable and ultimately as black as the clothing he wore. They complemented an angular and sculpted face framed by eternally greasy hair. Hair which hung in clotted strands just past his jaw bone, that emphasised the pale pallor of one who spent too much time in darkness.

One hand was absent, hiding in the folds of his robe, curled around his wand. He rarely entered the Forbidden Forest without one hand resting on his wand. The other was flat on his stomach, resting. His arm was in a slight curl. In fact, many times when he knew no one could see him, he rested his arm in this position. He had received an injury many years ago which now caused him pain in his chest on a regular basis. Shifting his arm was the only action that eased it.

He did not like other people to know that he could be vulnerable.

He sniffed disdainfully at the thought that anyone would even deign to watch him in his private sanctuary. No one knew it was there, not even Dumbledore had ever indicated he knew of it. The fact remained though that Severus Snape was always on his guard. Safe places had been violated before, he had either done the violating, or been violated. Either way, sanctuaries were never safe for long.

Quietly, like a black panther, he moved out of the little grove of trees. His eyes were bright and alert, his face set into a grim expression. As he emerged from his grove a small shimmering clouded his vision, he moved through an invisible protective shield; one that prevented humans from entering his space, but not beasts, he liked to see the animals move through the grove, unimpeded, while the humans unconsciously avoided it, not even knowing why.

He was proud of his shields, it was one of the few things he excelled aside from the art of potions making. Of course, potions he had always been good at and interested in, shield making he only developed much later in life...when it had been a necessity.

His eyes half closed for a moment as he remembered the first time he had needed a shield. He had thought he was only protecting himself from some vengeful Death Eaters, but no, some of the most powerful people in the wizarding world had hated him for the crimes he committed. He didn't only attack those against Voldemort, but he also attacked the supporters of Voldemort that were useless...the ones that would unwittingly expose him. Shields and hexes, the dark arts and protective potions would be the only things that protected him until Dumbledore had broken through it all, just to talk to him.

Severus sighed and absently moved back into his grove of trees, letting his force field sparkle against his eyes once again. It seemed he was not finished with his thoughts, or his melancholy. There was no point in going back to the castle in this mood, and there was no point in going back to the castle for at least a few hours anyway. Sanctuary was something that seemed to recharge him, for the students and the teachers in Hogwarts only seemed to drain him of energy.

All the potions in the world did not stop him from feeling exhausted after every working day, maintaining facades, maintaining loyalties.

He shuddered deeply, to his very core, as he thought of his last visit with Voldemort. The last visit which had very nearly seen his death more than once, which had seen him struggle to get back to Hogwarts, bleeding and almost incoherent as he fought to rid himself of the effects of about ten different hexes. Voldemort had been relatively merciful considering how suspicious he had been, what with Frederick Basilica rallying against him, and his own integrity coming into play.

It was only natural after all, Snape was betraying Voldemort.

The pain had been overwhelming, from the moment he had arrived to the moment he had left. Voldemort loved to see Snape in pain, and generally left him in that state until he said what the Dark Lord wanted to hear. The bluff had been simple, that he had been keeping the Basilica to himself, until he could find the right time to deliver her. Then of course, he had been punished for his selfishness.

Actually, when I drift back, I don't think I recall exactly what I was punished for. Of course, Voldemort's right is to punish one for any crime. Perhaps breathing.

Severus knew that Voldemort would keep him under effects of the Cruciatus curse for as long as he could, stopping just before madness consumed him. After all he believed Snape was still useful at Hogwarts, and didn't want to drive him insane. Snape knew he played a dangerous card, but bitterness made him reckless and despair made him careless.

There are only so many times you can beat a dog with a same stick...

His eyes squeezed closed. Frederick Basilica, whom he had never seen so crazed with anger, had been allowed full use of Severus Snape in the private rooms. Voldemort had felt like rewarding one, punishing the other, and most knew that the best reward for Frederick was private time with some other person.

The pain had been overwhelming, but the humiliation had been something else entirely. Assaulted by the one who had destroyed his family, raped by the one who would see him in Azkaban and the one who had him tortured, tortured until he was very close to self inducing coma. Frederick Basilica was cheerful and vicious, a sickly combination...and throughout the whole time, throughout his whole imprisonment, he had begun to realise who was at the bottom of all of it.

And if I see her again, I will destroy her, so help me I'll make her crumple under the pressure of my wrath.

He started to burn with hatred and briefly thrust his palm against one of the trees, raking it forcefully down the bark, serrating his skin. The slight, mild, almost indistinguishable twinges of pain kept him grounded. The hatred retreated, bubbled somewhere deep inside of him, in the well where he kept all his hatred.

The well was so full now, it couldn't help but overflow.

He pressed his back to the tree that he had brutalised his hand with before, his eyes closed against the world. He loathed feeling sorry for himself on a regular basis, but could not escape his depressions when he returned from the company of the Death Eaters. He sensed Dumbledore knew this, the Headmaster always seemed more...gentle? He winced, that wasn't it exactly...

And blessedly all the other teachers gave him a wide berth. Most of them avoided him anyway, he wasn't exactly the favourite teacher. People liked him less than Argus Filch...

Severus exhaled through his nose and decided that enough was enough. He was turning to go when a sensation intruded upon his hearing. It was a noise, so faint he could not distinguish. His eyes narrowed with suspicion, his heart sped up, his hand went to his wand and clenched it. His ears turned his head towards some undergrowth to his right. His lip curled. Just because no one had broken into his sanctuary before, didn't mean that no one ever would.

The bush shook a little, vibrated almost. It wasn't enough to indicate a shape large enough to be human, but there were plenty of creatures out there, small yet dangerous...then there was the issue of an Animagus.

She was one of those too. Conniving woman.

He crouched low, his eyes peering - black holes - through the shadows of the bushes. He could make out a small shape...a shape that wasn't positioned to attack. Small relief. It seemed cowered amongst the branches, and its trembling was causing the bush to shake.

Strange.

His hand shot out lightning fast, and his hand clenched around the creature, which suddenly came alive under his hands. Like a charge of electricity the furred thing started to writhe and twist so violently that Snape grunted as he awkwardly withdrew it from the sharp branches. The thing spit, hissed and made strange growling noises that weren't quite feline.

He stood, holding it, and when one of its clawed paws struck against his hand he shook it viciously, angrily. His hand flicked violently and the creature snapped into silence. For a second he wondered if he'd killed it, it was so still.

Finally he was able to see what it was, and his eyes widened with surprise. What are you doing in a bush all by yourself? You don't seem to be an Animagus...you're only...a cub. His eyes went from wide to narrow as he took in the sight of the quivering fox. It's fur was incredibly soft, its eyes glittered in fear and something undefinable. It hadn't yet become the incredible red of an adult. It was incredibly young, and evidently starving. It was so thin each rib, each individual spinal bone stuck up in its body.

How long have you been hiding there for? Maybe I should just put you out of your misery now.

His other hand unclenched from around his wand and he placed his hand around the neck of the creature firmly. It did not struggle, merely looked at him with soft, glowing, yellow eyes.

'Well I'm going to kill you now, so if you are an Animagus, it would probably be a good idea to change back.' He told the creature calmly, his heart turning inside of him. He'd much rather kill a fox than deal with an Animagus. In fact some part of him was screaming vengeance, after all...couldn't Siana Basilica turn into some kind of fox? A protectus? He could simply imagine this spindly cub was her...he'd feel good for the first time in weeks.

His hand clenched spasmodically as he looked down at the cub's glowing eyes. It hadn't changed, it wasn't an Animagus. No one would give themselves so willingly to death, besides...only small animals in shock...or very frightened victims of Voldemort exhibited such surrender.

He could still not believe how thin and wiry the fox cub was. It looked as though it hadn't eaten in weeks. Forget that, it looked as though it hadn't eaten.

'How did you still manage to live hmm?' he said softly and the fox whined softly, a piteous sound. It stretched its head forward and licked Snape softly on the hand. Snape's eyes widened and he almost dropped it in shock. Affection? No. He held it up with the hand around its neck, and with his other hand he slowly approached its mouth. If you bite, you die, if not...you can live a little longer. This is very interesting.

The creature whimpered eagerly as the hand approached it and then as soon as it was in range started licking frantically, making weak noises of searching. It was half howling, half whimpering. Snape's eyes narrowed and his eyebrows raised as he tampered with a thought in his head. However his thoughts startled him, and he dropped the fox unthinkingly. It hit the ground with a little squeak.

Snape looked down to see if it would run into the cover of the bushes again, but it merely snuggled up against his shoes as though it couldn't bear to leave them.

l...It looks as though I'm the first person who's showed any sign of affection to you. Even if it is the brutal attention of my short temper. Come here.

He picked it up, gently this time, his mind forgetting vengeance and thoughts of Siana Basilica. The fox reminded him strongly of his cat, Coal. He had never had a pet since, had sworn against them, but Coal had also been this trusting. Snape had not been a particularly nice child, not cruel, but not nice, and Coal had persisted. Persisted so much that one day Snape found himself declaring that the cat was his.

'You svelte thing,' he said softly and examined the fox more closely as he cradled the creature in his hands. It was a female, more thin on closer inspection. He had never seen an animal so thin, that had remained alive before. Its eyes were clouded with desperation and suddenly he knew that it did not have all that long to live.

This fox had been using his sanctuary as its own home...and it hadn't been found, or eaten by any of the flesh hungry monsters of the Forbidden Forest. It had to be a canny animal. Foxes were cunning, yes, and smart...he could train it perhaps. It could deliver messages for him, as long as he didn't get bored with it and kill it in the meantime.

It was going to die if he didn't do something fast.

The idea that came to his mind made his lips curl with revulsion...but he decided to trust his instincts, after all - they were one of the few things that made any sense to him anymore.

'So it's definitely not an Animagus?' Snape said softly as he looked down at the little fox that was now quietly and delicately picking up pieces of raw meat with its tapered muzzle.

'It's just a very fragile little canine right now. Do you want to leave it here for Hagrid to pick up?' The Headmaster Dumbledore asked as he surveyed the fox eating off his floor gravely. Fawkes was watching it from the corner, looking haughty and impassive. Hanging from his perch were two owl wing feathers.

'Hagrid?' Snape said, looking up at Dumbledore's pensive expression.

'Or had you already intended to keep it for yourself?' Dumbledore said with a slow smile and Severus Snape bit his lower lip, running his tongue across it slowly. He had intended to keep it for himself, but he didn't know why. He didn't really have any use for an animal, he didn't like keeping them...and he had no patience for living creatures. He rarely even had patience for himself.

However his mind kept reminding him that he had found it in his own sanctuary, that it had held on this long. It was a survivor, a skeletal survivor who had, without fear, licked his hand.

'I have uses for it,' Snape said vaguely and Dumbledore sighed.

'I wasn't aware that raw fox was a component for any potion.'

Snape's lip curled up into a half smile as he caught the amused tone in the Headmaster's voice. Meanwhile the fox had finished eating and trotted over to Snape's feet where it immediately huddled into a tiny ball and fell asleep. The potions master leant down and scooped it up into his hands, where it fit almost perfectly. It roused enough to give him a sleepy lick, and then fell off into sleep again.

'I can't decide whether it wants killing or not. It's such a pathetic thing, and I'm not the merciful type. Yet, I don't feel particularly inclined to destroy it, foxes are cunning creatures - made for a Slytherin master. I think it will have to be called Svelte, it will always be a sinuous creature.' He looked thoughtful and Dumbledore shook his head slowly.

'Your last encounter with Voldemort has altered you.'

'I know,' Snape said shortly, his hands clenching involuntarily around the small creature. His eyes became guarded, and he lost some of the smooth, dark charisma that usually accompanied him. He looked down at the fox, eyes unfocussed. His spine jerked suddenly and he moved to the window where the light cast his features into sharp relief. He looked world weary. His eyes appeared heated in darkness, his mouth was drawn in a very thin line.

'Well. Alterations can be for the best. Would you like some whiskey Severus?' Dumbledore said softly. 'You look as though you could do with something strong.'

'She did it.'

'Did what Severus?' Dumbledore said, pausing in front of the cabinet that held all manner of intricate objects and precious trinkets, as well as the whiskey.

'She did it all, slaughtered an innocent, Stunned me...gave me no choice but to encounter Voldemort at a very inopportune time...left me in the hands of another quick witted and foul mouthed Basilica. It can all be traced back to her conniving mind...the blame falls on her shoulders.' He was talking calmly, but there was a horrible edge to his voice. The fox shuddered in his hands...Dumbledore sighed.

'It doesn't take a giant step of reason to realise that she's not the criminal. Let us review your encounter with Voldemort again, you weren't entirely coherent when you first arrived back at Hogwarts.'

'If I find her, so help me, she'll wish she hadn't been born.' Snape's tone was laced with black hatred. Dumbledore's face was impassive, but his eyes glittered strangely then. His own mouth turned into a frown, his fingers interlaced and he returned back to his desk, sitting. There was silence in Dumbledore's office for a moment.

'You know as well as I do Severus, that if she returns, there will be a place for her here. She has a useful talent and a need for protection. Killing or harming her will not reverse any wrongs that have been committed in the past. You are not stupid enough to disregard this fact, you are only caught up in your vengeance.'

'I thought we were here to talk about Voldemort?' Snape muttered and Dumbledore grimaced.

'So did I.'

'I still have not been able to elicit why he wants Siana so much. I assumed it was a matter of blood, or bloodline...but Frederick is still alive, and Voldemort did order Macnair to kill the rest. So it's something unique. Something individual.'

'What did they ask you?'

'Just the usual. Am I still faithful, do I need a reminder about what will happen if I'm not faithful.' His voice became overcast with bitterness again and he turned away from the window to look at Dumbledore. 'They know she is a talented Animagus, but they do not know she is a double. They know she has a new wand - but not of its nature. They know she is no longer here. Frederick suggested he Portkey around the world to find her, but Voldemort quite effectively pointed out that the Portkeys could be traced, it was too dangerous. Personally, if she's so important to Voldemort, wouldn't it be better for everyone if she was just extinguished? He couldn't use her then,' he ground out and Dumbledore's eyes widened. He was shocked by the vituperative tone in Snape's voice...a tone usually only reserved for James Potter and his gang.

'Listen to me Severus. If there is something about her that Voldemort needs, then maybe that something could be used to harm him also. Another thing, please explain to me how you could go from asking to escort her and stay with her to Sibilant Stow to this abrupt change in attitude?'

'She's a manipulative little bitch,' he snarled and Dumbledore's eyes hardened then.

'I will not permit that attitude Severus. Kindly return to a presence of mind that holds within it some semblance of rationality.'

'All I know is one moment I'm understanding why I dislike her. She did murder my sister after all...and the next moment I'm telling her that I forgive her. That was not voluntary.'

'And did you ever stop to think Severus...that your encounter with Voldemort could have clouded your previous thoughts?' Dumbledore said wearily, it was useless arguing with Snape when he was in one of his moods. It seemed he had been in one of his moods since he had returned. His temper was volatile, he was more ill-mannered than usual. Friday had found him standing in the middle of a second floor corridor blasting Professor McGonagall for something that Dumbledore still didn't understand.

'Maybe my encounter with the Dark Lord cleared my thoughts. I just need a few days to decide where I stand with the whole situation. It's highly unlikely that I'm about to declare my undying love for any Basilica, or Voldemort. No Dumbledore, I don't think you have to worry about my loyalties just yet,' Snape said softly, his eyes trailing over the tiny fox again. Svelte.

'Look after Svelte, Severus, she'll die if she isn't fed and watered regularly.'

Severus Snape grunted and flicked his hair back from his head with a jerk.

'Maybe she won't survive the night. It all depends on my patience. Care to intervene now?' Snape taunted softly, his tone melancholy. There was pain lining his face and Dumbledore wondered briefly if he was still experiencing hurt from his multiple injuries. He could tell that Snape's bitterness now was all talk, he wasn't going to kill Svelte, it wasn't in his nature anymore to kill an innocent animal. An innocent human maybe, but not an animal.

'Take tomorrow off Severus. I insist. It's not like you have that much work to do at the moment anyway. I'll see you in the Great Hall tomorrow night for dinner, I hear the elves are putting up a marvellous feast.'

'Marvellous,' Snape said dryly, his expression grim. However his eyes seemed to soften a little and as he started to walk to the door he said. 'Thank you, Dumbledore.'

With that he exited, his hands still cradling the fragile fox.