Disclaimer: See first chapter

Chapter 4: Redemption

The grounds were eerily quiet when I came back, a sharp contrast from the chaos that had been taking place when I had left. It seemed that the students and spectators to the disastrous third task had been sent off, the stands were left empty. I was glad that there was no one there to see me in this condition or badger me with stupid questions about what had happened. I had no energy or desire to do anything except go to my rooms and fall into a long sleep. But before I could do that, I had one more duty to take care of.

Hobbling forward as fast as I could, I made for the stairs leading to Dumbledore's office, winicng as every step send tremors of pain throughout my abused and aching body. My chest wounds were still oozing out blood slowly and the cold night air had stung them terribly.

'Lemon drops' I whispered in a horse voice once I reached the entrance to Dumbledore's office and the gargoyle immediately leapt aside. My throat felt raw too, a quite unsurprising ailment considering how long I had just spent screaming. The dark lord had not been pleased that he was unable to hear any initial screams from his prisoner, so he had used the Crucio curse again and again until I had finally screamed long and hard enough to satisfy him. The rest of my body too was throbbing with the aftermath of the Cruciatus curse.

I had just raised my hand to knock on Dumbledore's door, when it swung open. He must have been waiting up for me then, waiting to see if I would return or not. Ignoring the mixture of relief and shock on his face, I moved past him and collapsed on the couch nearest to the door, my strength finally giving out. My body cried for the sweet escape of sleep, but I forced my eyes to remain open, for just a little while more.

Dumbledore moved over to the couch, kneeling next to me, his eyes moving quickly to assess the damage done to me. He must have known that even if I returned, it would not be unscathed, and yet he still looked shaken by the wounds and bruises that covered my body.

"What did he do to you, Severus?" he asked in a whisper.

"Oh, nothing at all! He was very glad to see me, gave me a big hug and made me a friendship bracelet." I retorted sarcastically. I knew Dumbledore would not take offence. He had dealt with me often enough to know that sarcasm was just the shield I hid behind to hide my true feelings, the front I put up that kept me from breaking down completely, the only thing that kept me alive.

Sure enough, there was no reaction from Dumbledore, except for perhaps an intensifying of the ever-present twinkle in his eye.

"It is good to see you still retain your sense of humour." He muttered, before turning serious again. "But tell me Severus, seriously. I do not want to keep you awake any longer than I have to, but I must know what happened."

Sighing to myself, even though this was no different from what I expected, I launched into my story, telling him everything that had taken place since I had left Hogwarts. He listened to me without interruption, his clear blue eyes giving no indication of what he was thinking. When I reached the part of the 'branding', I hesitated. I did not want him to know the nature of the cuts on my chest. The blood obscuring them ensured that he could not, for now, discern the crude pattern they formed, and I wished for it to remain that way. The thought of being once-again branded as one of his servants sickened me more than the pain, and I did not want to reveal my shame to anyone, not even him.

Leaving out the details of the torture, I continued with the rest of the account. When I had finished, I waited expectantly for Dumbledore's response. However, he seemed more immediately concerned with treating me. Taking out his wand, he directed it towards my chest and muttered the words of the healing charm. The cuts remained unchanged. Frowning, he tried it again but there was no change.

"Do you not think I have already tried doing that myself?" I said in a tired voice before he could try it again a third time. "He has put a spell on them to make them impervious to any kind of healing charms or potions. They will heal on their own, the muggle way."
I could see that Dumbledore understood the hidden implications of the dark lord's charm. Instead of being cured magically in an instant, the cuts would heal slowly, and painfully.

Dumbledore eyes reflected his sorrow for a moment before he moved away, and returned with a cloth and a bowl of water. Seeing his intention, I stood up quickly, ignoring the sudden dizziness that came and said, "No, Dumbledore, I will take care of it myself. I do not need you fussing over me like a mother hen." In reality, I did not want him to get a closer look at my wounds.

"Severus." The hard tone in Dumbledore's voice stopped me in my tracks. "Do we have to do this every time? Those wounds need to be looked at and I have neither the time nor the energy to spend 3 hours battling with you about it."

I looked up at him, and saw the tiredness lining his face. He suddenly seemed older and more vulnerable, and I remembered that he had probably had a horrible time this evening as well dealing with the aftermath of the tragic third task. Knowing that further argument was futile, I conceded defeat with a slight nod, and lay back on the couch bracing myself for what was to come. I suppose I should have been grateful that Dumbledore had not marched me off to Mdm. Pomfrey and at least was discreet enough to take care of me himself.

I tensed slightly as Dumbeldore starting washing away the blood from my chest. I am sure Dumbledore noticed the movement, but he ignored it as he continued washing out the cuts. He was trying to be gentle, but his movements still caused the pain to flare. Once all the blood had been removed the design carved out on my skin stood out even sharper, the red lines a stark contrast with my pale skin.

I heard Dumbledore's sharp intake of breath, as what he had thought at first to just be random cuts took on a familiar shape. The design was not as clear as the burnt into my arm, but it was still possible to make out the crude shape of the skull and the snake.

"Severus! This is the dark mark!"

I closed my eyes, as what I had wanted to conceal was finally revealed. "I know. The dark lord decided that I needed a…physical… reminder of whom my loyalty should be to."

Dumbledore was silent for a while, still staring at the mark. Then he shook his head and said simply, "I'm sorry, Severus."

"It matters not." I replied in an equally quiet voice. "I have had his brand on my arm for so many years already. Does it matter if I have another one, another reminder of who owns me, another mark of my servitude?"

"Severus, having his mark on your arm does not make you his. Neither your body, nor your will, nor your soul can so easily become another. It is yours, no one can own it but you. You decide your own path. Surely these last few years have taught you that."

I laughed, the sound hollow and mirthless. "Surely you jest, Dumbledore? It has been a long time since I had any measure of control over my life. All my life I have moved to the wills of others, and these past few years have only strengthened that conviction. Yes, I decided to betray the Dark Lord. But has that gained me my freedom? Am I not still bound by my duties, now not only to one but two masters? Was I not forced to return tonight, called back by the dark mark, a summons I had no choice but to obey? The dark mark has haunted me ever since I got it, Dumbledore. I cannot get rid of it, nor can I so easily escape from its influence. Every step I take, every choice I make will be tainted by it, there is no escape.

"Severus…"

"No, Dumbledore!" I interrupted, suddenly inexplicably angry. "Don't try to deny the truth, you cannot protect from reality like you protect the students of this school. I know the truth, I feel it, I see it in the eyes of everyone around me. I will never be one of them, how could I be, I am marked as his. Nothing will change that. It matters not what I do for the Order, I cannot redeem myself. This mark reminds me every single moment of the day of the mistakes I made, of the path I choose to do, of all the horrible things I did. I cannot redeem myself, Dumbledore, not in their eyes, not in my eyes. Today was just another reminder of my fate, my perpetual, inescapable bond."
I lay back down, utterly exhausted by my outburst. I had not meant to breakdown like that, but the stress of taking up my death eater mantle again had gotten to me. It was a little while before I heard Dumbledore's voice again, his tone calm, seemingly unaffected by my anger.

"Severus, I will not try and deny anything that you have said, or give you false assurances. But don't you see, this is why we have to fight Voldemort, this is why I need you to do this. We have to defeat him, for our sake, for your sake."

"I know." I replied in barely a whisper. "That is why I have taken this burden upon me. That is the only thought that allows me keep playing this part, to endure…everything. It is the only thing that keeps me alive, the hope of victory, of redemption."

Later that night, once again alone in his office, Dumbledore smiled sadly as he thought over his conversation with Snape. For a little while there he had been able to reach out to the real Severus Snape, to get behind the defences he placed around himself. But he knew that the shields would be back in the morning, there would once again be a surly, sour professor terrorizing the students by his mere presence, and Severus Snape would once again have been locked up inside, alone and unthanked.

A/N: Well that's the end of this little dedication to my favourite character in the series. I think I got a little too emotional over this last chapter, but I hope you enjoyed it all the same! Thanks for reading, and review please!
fire-forged