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Dear Spidey Legend, ModestAmateur and infinitec, welcome to the journey. Please let me hear your opinion, and thank you for joining!
I will upload frequently. This story is a modestly long one, I have most of it already written, and I hereby promise I will not abandon it.
Disclaimer: This is Rowling's world, I only play for fun
So, let's get on with it!
Chapter 2. The war within
Leaving Grimmauld Square far behind him, Severus Snape walked down the less frequented London streets, always keeping to the shady side and using the fog to maximum advantage. He searched for the best spot to apparate unnoticed. He found a satisfactory place behind a fast-food restaurant. The noise he would cause would be less than if a cat disturbed the garbage. He took a good look around, imagined a dark corner behind the Hog's Head and turned on his heels.
Returning to Hogsmeade felt like finally getting back to civilization. He turned the corner with a sigh and ran into McGonagall and her friend as they walked out of the Hog's Head in exceptionally high spirits.
"Ah, Severus!" – McGonagall's smile was disturbingly wide – "I'm so glad to see you're fine! D'you remember Lucille?"
"Minerva," – he answered with a polite nod – "Mrs. Dakstøm."
"It's Mrs. Wintertale now, Professor Snape!"- The more than middle-aged witch giggled, emitting some flames with her chuckle, which proved their overindulgence in fire-whiskey. Severus excused himself politely but promptly and hurried towards the Hogwarts' gates with the two ladies' laughter following him as long as he was in their view.
The walk up to the castle was a long one, but he felt the need for the exercise. The night was starry; the summer bloomed all around and carried the most magical scents. The air still held some of the heat of the day. Those three miles uphill were everything he needed to calm his nerves. The majestic building of Hogwarts covered in the moonlight before the velvety sky seemed to welcome him. The epitome of safety and a sense of home if there was such a thing in this world. Far better than Spinner's End… he shook his head at the comparison. That old house was a place to forget. Even if that was all, he ever inherited aside from the memories…
Severus contemplated the safety of letting his thoughts fly wild for a change. He cast a spell to see if anyone happened to be around. He was alone. And finally, on Hogwarts grounds. He walked to the lake and sat on a bench, letting his thought wander a while.
Yes, these grounds were much more welcoming than Spinner's End. No wonder Minerva chose to stay close, not even leaving further than Hogsmeade when she got married. That was a sad story he once heard from Flitwick when the old professor wanted him to warm up to McGonagall. It did not work that time, but the years eventually taught them to cooperate. Flitwick said she did not fall in love easily, but when she did, she had a spouse who suited her every possible way… and who died a year into their marriage. It was the first time it occurred to him that Minerva might know as much about grief as he did. Of course, she must have no reason to regret, feel shame, and feel guilt – at least not in this context – but she must have grieved. Yet, he could not see any outside symptoms. Why, just now, he saw her laughing, socializing in a way he could never imagine himself. How did she overcome grief? Did she have something he was missing? Or was it about the guilt? He was desperate to know. He even risked his sanity by giving thought to the being who had talked to him…
Cautiously Severus approached the most disturbing question of his past few weeks – and this was saying something considering the time he spent with the Dark Lord: Could he really talk to a creature more powerful than anything he has ever known in this world? Do creatures like that really exist? If they do, why would any of them bother with someone like him? Not even his parents did! Not even his friends if he had any, which was less than doubtful… - he grimaced. For the sake of all good, even his enemies didn't care about him this much. Thankfully, by the way, he didn't want them to understand him!
He stared at the lake and sighed deeply. Logic stepped in. The first question should be if there is any creature existing above this Earth? The answer clearly belongs to the realm of philosophy. A more advanced study of it would be necessary than what he'd already had. Let's say it is a matter of belief, or faith, or – in this case – a matter he was reluctant to address. The second question: If such an entity exists – as a working hypothesis – did it, or did it not talk to him? He told himself the most probable hypothesis was that he simply fainted. He would not be the first to do so. That posed another question: Why did his subconscious come up with this twisted story? If he did not faint, however, the question remained: why? Severus found if he refused to address the problem of such an entity's existence, he could also give up trying to discern its possible motivations. Whether there was someone who came up with those very questions and ordered him to – that's ridiculous! – to love… Oh, Merlin, it sounded even crazier if he tried a logical approach!
Severus sighed and ran through the whole thing again.
And again.
The water was uncommonly still, and it mirrored the stars. They had moved on their paths a great deal since he sat down. Just before he decided to leave it all and walk up the castle to have some rest, finally, it occurred to him… It was immaterial if a creature he did not know or his own subconscious made up the tale. The essence was the same. If he wanted his pain to rule him, he should not change his ways, but if the smallest part of his body wanted to move without pain if the last of his cells wished to be free…
Only his wish for freedom finally outspoken was enough for him to breathe like he hadn't for years. Suddenly the joy of that deep breath was nearly overwhelming. The freedom of his mind… No! The freedom within his mind! Indeed, that would be most welcome. Snape knew only too well how many attacks his mind had to brave. Living life between the known world's two best Legilimens had taken a toll on him already. He had always been lonely and isolated, two things he expected to accelerate now.
The message was to free his heart to free his mind; no matter its origin, the recipe was understood and appreciated, so how to do so?
Putting everything aside, his grief for Lily was a part of him; it was like her last breath in this world, and he could cling to it. What would he be without this only thing that remained of her? Was grief a part of her or him? And this was the question that scared him to the bone. Who would he be without his grief for her? And he was grieving now for his grief for her while he tried to let it go. Let go of the last stage of his existence connected to her… Something screamed in him against it, for grief is not nothing, not disposable. It had exceptional value in his life since Lily was no more. So should he just throw it away for his own freedom, selfishly?
But he craved freedom and the end of pain.
Silent tears washed his face. Severus Snape, the heartless git of the dungeons, the traitor, the cruel death eater, was shaking with spasms of voiceless crying. He couldn't do it, but by the time dawn came over him, Severus sat still again by the lake.
He watched the sun rising and felt utterly empty and calm. He could not just throw away what he was, but trying and crying brought the closest thing to content he had known in this hectic life. He loved grieving for Lily; since Lily was no more, but his grief was here. And for the first time, he accepted that this is ridiculous. If only he just knew where to go from here?
By noon he had slept and brewed the first batch of recreational potions for Goyle's wife and her circle of friends. Returning to the Dark Lord's side also meant he had to return to his old self of poison-maker instead of potion master, one more thing he was reluctant to do but could hardly avoid. Malfoy loved his drinks magically enhanced, Avery his girlfriends, spiked up with artificial excitement and Goyle his wife sedate and in good humour. All of it easily achieved by some basic brewing. Receiving Dumbledore's invitation for a friendly dinner could not enhance his mood even if he wrote about Minerva's participation too.
However, it was not to be. The evening found the two professors in the Great Hall discussing the headmaster's sudden departure.
"Did he look concerned?" – Snape enquired, digging into the exceptional food the house-elves produced.
"I really could not tell. He has a habit of talking nonchalantly, even about the most serious issues." McGonagall was thoughtful for a second. "Although he departed as soon as he received the owl without replying, so I thought it was something of great importance."
Severus gathered that at least she looked concerned, but he decided against guessing Dumbledore's motivations. There were too many unknown factors for a worthy calculation.
"Could you extract from him the reason for this dinner?"
McGonagall smirked. "You sound like he was not supposed to invite us for a simple dinner."
"Minerva, I would never call a Hogwarts dinner simple. You know better and longer than I that Dumbledore never issues a simple invitation."
"I also know his fondness of amusement," – the elder witch replied – "and I believe he was to amuse himself tonight."
"Now, did he really?" A faint glint of curiosity showing in his eyes; Snape waited for the details.
"Well, it seems he had some reports on both of us." McGonagall looked slightly embarrassed. "I'm afraid our dear Mr. Filch busied himself watching our activities in the absence of students. You were reported to return by dawn, and I might have been caught humming… in the corridors."
"Nosy bastard," – Snape absently muttered.
McGonagall laughed up. "Well, I can imagine why he wouldn't like you. You were as busy breaking the rules in your time as young Mr. Malfoy, and my mischievous trio is up to the task now. Don't pout; it does not suit you! I am not judging; it was a mistake I made, but whether it was because of my favourites or not, you did your part; that's true. And Argus Filch does not forget easily."
Snape made a face. If only she knew! "And who does?" However disturbing Minerva could get, chewing on a piece of lamb, he found his curiosity was piqued. "If this was some twisted retribution, I wonder what your sins have been, Minerva? I've never heard of your school-years. Don't you happen to have a hidden dossier in the caretaker's office?"
"I'm quite sure it is thinner than yours." She replied tightly, giving no attention to his defiant smirk. "I might have had some trouble with the curfew."
"Unbelievable." He pushed her.
"Oh, is it? Well, Gryffindor Tower has always been a busy place, and if someone wanted to learn…ahead… or by chance study animagii in peace, the library has always been a better choice." She stared at her plate blankly for a moment while a distant smile grew on her face. "Oh, yes, a much better place indeed. Especially after curfew with no supervision about…" She smiled openly now, obviously happy to recall the memory.
"Am I to imagine you than roaming on these corridors unsupervised in the dead of night, studying magic forbidden at your age?"
"Please don't try to act like you've never done the same! I merely indulged in the wonders of a good library… without a restricted area that time." she peeked up at her one-time student's face and beamed like the proverbial cat who ate the cream. "Indeed, Severus, your dearest friends at the restricted area were not as hard to find those days, unlike your school years."
"Perchance you roaming about them even after midnight, I presume, added to the need to close that section?"
McGonagall laughed. "I am guilty as charged, even if Headmaster Dippet never took these books as seriously as Albus does. I am guilty of making your student-life difficult by causing the section's closing." She said with no regrets. Severus fought the urge to point out he remembered at least two separate detentions he received from her only for doing the same, but the witch went on. "We all have our childhood stories, Severus. As much as I remember yours, you may know about this one of mine."
They both turned back to their plates, and silence ensued between them. Snape was sure Minerva would describe it companionable, but he wrestled with his thoughts and memories. There was no use pointing out - yet again - that her blatant lack of empathy towards anyone but her precious favourites nearly killed him. Or repeating that it made his life a hell on Earth and was responsible to a degree for his current predicament, for he was unsure what would have become of him if he had any other friendly options but to choose the path he was paying for now. It all seemed pointless. By the time the chain of thought ran down, he was without his anger. They were through this so many times it was dull. Minerva was not a perfect teacher but an extraordinary mind in transfiguration, and he happened to enjoy their camaraderie. The first student who found him a spotless and empathetic teacher will get his expulsion for imbibing some nasty and presumably illegal brew down in the labs.
"So it's again your curfew issues… Albus must have teased you to no end." He eventually put a smirk back on his face and leaned back on the chair to sip the wine. McGonagall was ready to follow his lead.
"Thankfully, he had not much time… although he mentioned something interesting, totally unrelated. Have you heard about Binns lately?"
"I have not." He put his goblet on the table and inclined his head towards her with genuine curiosity. "If you are to tell me he had issues with Filch, I might find some extraordinary way to celebrate the old fart."
"Oh no, not Filch, although I'd like to see what you were going to try. However, he posed serious trouble for Albus. We are not only in need of a new DADA, but we'll also have to find someone to teach History of Magic, either."
For Minerva's greatest entertainment, Severus nearly spit out the wine he just began sipping again. "What?!"
"Oh, yes, Binns apparently asked for a sabbatical," she said. With a twitch of her finger, some more much-needed wine appeared.
Severus leaned close to her and poured. "You know I have never been into gossip among the staff, but by all means, corrupt me!"
"If only I knew enough to do so, but this time I am also stunned. Albus said Binns told him he needed to contemplate life and death in peace; he never had his rest of his soul since Slytherin's monster attacked Sir Nicholas. I'm sure you recall the incident."
"It was a sight I could hardly forget…"
"Well, it seems Binns could not either. After he 'carefully considered the shock of it, he decided to give himself at least a year of quiet contemplation.' His words. Now, where would we find a replacement?"
"I severely doubt anyone profited more from his lessons than a few hours of additional sleep; I hardly believe there's anyone in Britain qualified enough to take his place."
McGonagall pulled her mouth. "My thoughts exactly."
After discussing the earthly possibilities for a ghost at length, Minerva tactfully asked about his report to the Order. Since she couldn't be there and the dinner was good, Severus summarized the whole meeting… meaning the meeting as he saw it. He thought he did this in good humour, so Minerva's reply took him by surprise.
"You have a very unique viewpoint, and now I am ashamed how little I thought about your isolation among us. None of us were as friendly to you as you probably deserve."
Snape watched her face, her pose, her eyes for a few minutes before he replied. She looked genuinely touched by something, but the source of her feelings he could not discern.
"I guess it's merely a matter of trust." – He finally said.
Minerva surprised him again with a quick reply. "Albus trusts you immensely, and we all trust Albus, hence in you. I never understood his reasons. I guess no one does. It just occurred to me that maybe I should trust you on the accord of our own acquaintance; I would never know his reasons anyway."
Snape couldn't help but sigh with a curious kind of content. It had been an exceptionally friendly meal, something he could rarely have. And having McGonagall say such things she would have considered rubbish twenty years ago felt surprisingly good. Now the night was closing to an end, he found himself considering if he could let his guard down, but as tempting as it felt at the moment, he knew that's not the way he could follow.
So he smiled, she smiled, and the night was over without any of them genuinely lowering their defences. Severus found it later that her last few sentences still stayed with him somehow. They felt good.