Disclaimer: Nope, my name is still not Rowling, so nothing is mine.

AN: I am not sure if I will update frequently, but I will do my best, but theoretically (and poor me also practically) I have a PhD thesis to write and finish.

If someone wants to read a letter to a specific character, let me know and I will try to fit it into the story.

Many thanks to all you reviewed, followed and favoured, it makes me crazily happy to see that people are interested in what I write.

This chapter is now beta'ed, by the wonderful a-bit-of-madness.

Have fun reading.

On with the story

Chapter 4: Severus Snape

Severus Snape didn't know what he should think or feel… No, it was more that he felt too many emotions at once, the most prominent of which were confusion and irritation. He looked down at the crumpled letter in his hand, eyes scanning the paragraphs. The first parts shocked him. Was this real? Had Potter really apologised? Should he believe it? No, never! A Potter apologising to a Snape, a Gryffindor to a Slytherin? His shock changed to anger. Potter only wanted to mock him, he was sure.

The next paragraph fuelled his anger into absolute fury. How dare he accuse Severus of not being able to separate the prat from his father! It was clear as day that he was entirely like James Potter, strutting around arrogantly …Severus paused, one sentence catching his eye and taking his breath away, bringing up memories tainted by fury and shame he wished he could forget.

You went from being bullied to being the bully.

Potter saw him as a bully.

After his childhood and what had happened in Hogwarts with the Marauders, he never wanted to be associated with anything similar to bullying. But here,Potter of all people, accused him of being a bully. Yes, he was meaner to the other houses, but his Slytherins were scorned, especially by the Gryffindors and someone had to bring down the boy a peg or two.

Anger came up again, eyes reading over the next paragraphs, his brain took a moment to catch up to itself…...

Severus had been accused of being many things, most of them true, but he was anything but stupid. Even with his exceptional intelligence, though, it took a few minutes for clarity to find him. He never had thought of the prat as Harry Potter, only ever as Potter, which was always associated in his mind with James Potter. This moment of clarity opened his mind to a flood of memories. With all his skills as an accomplished Occlumens, Severus took hold of his emotions and brought up his shields.

Perhaps some of the boy's accusations were not completely farfetched. Yes, the boy had never met his father, but surely someone had told him all about the glorious Gryffindor….

How could I behave like him if I never knew him, never heard of him before my eleventh birthday?

Severus snorted contemptuously, the prat didn't think he would believe this lie, did he? Why should the boy-who-lived never have heard of his father before he was eleven? Surely his loving and adoring family would have told him all about his heroic parents. With whom had Dumbledore left him again? Because of the blood protections it couldn't have been someone from the Potter side, even if there were still some left. So, the only one left was….

Severus paused again…a memory surfaced of two little girls, memories he had buried so deep he had practically forgotten them. Guilt and shame tried to destroy his hold on his emotions.

Lily…

And then he remembered Petunia, Lily's older sister, her jealousy and disgust upon discovering that Lily was a witch. How spiteful and vicious she had been after Lily went to Hogwarts. Had the boy grown up with Petunia? She was the only one left, but she hated everything magical. Dumbledore wouldn't… or would he?

Mentally shaking his head, Severus went back to reading the letter again. It was not important how the boy had grown up. Yes, he could admit to being cruel to the boy and that he mostly saw his father in him, but he was still sure that his assessment of the boy's character so far had been right. He was arrogant, strutted around like he owned the castle, behaved like he was above the rules and better than everybody, flaunted his celebrity status and showed disrespect to adults. Someone had to bring him down a peg or two, someone had to show him that not all people will fall over for him.

Yet, there was a tingle of uncertainty left in Severus and even a little guilt as he read again how he made Potter ashamed of his own father. He knew that feeling, Tobias was never a father he could have been proud of, and for a child that was something awful to feel about his own father.

He quickly went back to reading, shoving his memories of his own father behind thick shields.

nobody would consider me spoilt if they knew of my home life.

There it was again, that tingle of unease. Severus tried to banish it to the back of his mind. It had nothing to do with him.

Reading about the Horcruxes made him want to vomit. He had heard how brilliant the Dark Lord had been once. He only had glimpsed it a few times himself though, before the Dark Lord had fallen to insanity and begun to wage a war. If what the boy wrote was true, it was his Lords own fault he'd gone insane and he'd started on the path at sixteen. Why? Because of a simple fear of death? There would have been other ways to prevent dying. And the boy gave them back? The boy himself was a Horcrux? So, he had to die to get rid of the Dark Lord once and for all, did Dumbledore know? Severus was not entirely sure, but normally not much went on without the Headmaster knowing. Did he want the boy to die? Had he raised his Golden Boy like a lamb for the slaughter?

Nausea was rising, when the picture of another pair of green eyes, dulled by death, hovered in his mind. Would the last remains of Lily vanish while he sat by and did nothing?

Severus drew a deep breath.

But if the Dark Lord was sane again, had his full magical and intellectual capacity back, could he be persuaded to let the boy live? The one responsible for his downfall, but also the one to restore his sanity? Perhaps if the boy decided to be neutral... Would it be enough for the Dark Lord?

And what would it mean for Severus? Potter had given him in this letter everything he needed to either destroy the Dark Lord forever or go back to the Dark faction. He had never completely belonged to the Light, his magic was inclined more to the grey and dark parts of magic, and the original goals were the reasons Severus joined the Dark Lord. His dreams of equal rights to all branches of magic- light, grey and dark. A lot of useful potions had been banned, because they were considered dark. Rituals and traditions banned and lost. So much knowledge buried and destroyed…

How would it be to stand on the side of a sane Dark Lord, fighting for these goals, not on a war field, but on the political battlefield, with wit, manipulations and subtlety? The way a true Slytherin would do it…

Lucius' father had told them how charming and convincing the Dark Lord had been once, combined with a brilliant mind, he could accomplish more that way than with an all-out war.

Before he dared to get his hopes up, though, he should see his Lord as the boy suggested and verify if he had his sanity back and the merging had been successful. If not, he had to talk to Dumbledore and try to plan what to do with the last two Horcruxes, Nagini and Potter himself.

It was strange how accurate Potters assumption of Severus' decisions were. He even agreed with his presumption about Dumbledore. So, the boy was not blind to the headmaster's manipulations, who would have guessed…

And to give him the whole prophecy as a bargaining chip was quite a brilliant move on the boy's part. The Dark Lord was obsessed with hearing the whole one. Reading it made Severus blood freeze in his veins. If he only had heard it in its entirety the first time. It was clearly a sell-fulfilling prophecy. Perhaps the Dark Lord had been cautious and had waited to see which child would have been the bigger threat, but with his Lord so deteriorated into insanity at this time, Severus was not sure if the Dark Lord had chosen another course of action.

Severus sighed, there was no reason to cry over spilled milk.

In the next days I will attempt to destroy the fragment in me

Severus frowned. Something in this sentence gave him an itch, like he knew the conclusion to a puzzle, but couldn't remember it.

And I will tell one more person, no one too obvious,

Another ingenious idea, to have a backup. It was a rather Slytherin move, Severus shuddered. The thought of ANY Potter having enough of a brain to think and plan in a Slytherin way was disturbing.

Who would the boy tell? No one obvious, so the rest of the Golden Trio was out of the picture. Some of the other Members of the Weasley family? No, still too obvious of a choice. As well as some of his friends in Gryffindor. Perhaps the Lovegood child, she had stood by him in the last school year and fought by his side in the Ministry. Still too obvious…so someone Potter didn't associate with on a daily basis…

Severus stopped his musing, he had better things to do. He looked at the clock hanging on the kitchen wall. It was midday. He had been sitting here for hours and thinking about this blasted letter.

He stood up, made himself a cup of tea, sipping it slowly while trying to decide what to do next. But even with his occlumency shields on full force his thoughts and emotions were in turmoil, it was never a good idea to make important decision in such a state of mind. He needed to calm down. So, Severus went and did what he always did to get his mind off things, he opened the door to his potions lab and started brewing.

Harry woke from a wonderful and relaxing nap. He blinked, stretched and put his glasses on. A quick glance confirmed that Hedwig was still out. The sun was high, somewhere around noon, looking around his room, Harry sighed. There was nothing to do. He had written all the letters to everybody he could think of. He only could wait for the aftermath of the first letters and the soul merging.

A quick visit into his mindscape showed him that the connection with Voldemort was still shut down. The string connecting them was much thicker than before, not surprising considering Harry had sent him the main part of his soul back. He carefully prodded the string, trying to listen and feel what was happening at the other end. As Voldemort was probably still unconscious, there wasn't much. Harry wasn't sure what a newly merged soul should feel like, but the soul at the other end felt warmer- a little like a wound in process of healing- and much stronger. He would have to wait and see what happened when Voldemort woke up.

Coming out of his mind, Harry rubbed his eyes, took a sip from a water bottle and lay down again. The house was blissfully quiet, and even if he would have preferred not to be locked in his room, he was happy to have a few Dursley free days. Perhaps he should do his summer homework. After another nap, Harry thought while closing his eyes, drifting back to sleep.

Somewhere in Scotland, a snowy white owl reached a magnificent old castle and circled around one of the towers. One window was open, and she flew into the circular room beyond it. Nobody occupied the office in the moment, so she landed on the enormous, claw-footed desk, leaving the letter addressed to

Professor Albus Dumbledore

Behind, and left through the open window again. Deciding on a short break, Hedwig flew to the owlery for some food and water and a short nap. A few hours later, well rested, she was soaring through the sky again, towards the recipient of the last letter she carried.

Brewing had calmed his mind, making it easier to decide what he should do. So, in the early afternoon, Severus Snape climbed out of the fireplace reserved for family and close friends at Malfoy Manor. No one was in the reception room, but he was sure Lucius would be here any minute, alerted by the wards of his arrival. Nobody could use this fireplace who wasn't allowed and as Narcissa, Lucius and Draco were at the Manor, only a handful of possible people remained.

The door opened, and Lucius strode inside, pausing as he saw Severus and smiled.

"Severus, to what do we owe the honour of your presence?" Lucius gave a short bow and gestured for Severus to follow him. Walking beside one of the few people Severus would call a friend, even if never out loud, he mused how he should approach the subject.

"How is our Lord today?" Severus asked calmly. Lucius went stiff but didn't falter in his steps. Since the Battle in the Ministry their Lord was in a particularly violent and malicious temper and had only gotten Lucius out of Azkaban after a short week to punish him for his failure to retrieve the prophecy as he saw fit. Lucius had only survived the punishment because of Narcissa's and Rabastan's profound knowledge and skills in magical healing.

"The last time I saw our Lord was yesterday. The wards around his wing are up, so it seems he does not wish to be disturbed." Lucius answered steadily.

"But he is still in the manor?"

"Yes, the house-elves assigned to him didn't mentioned that he left, and the wards didn't report someone leaving. He should be in his study."

"Good, I have to talk to you and Narcissa."

Now Lucius glanced at him sideways, trying to read Severus expression, which was carefully blank. "She is in the summer tea room."

For a few minutes they walked silently side by side.

"Do I have to send Narcissa and Draco to the safe house?" Lucius questioned softly, voice nearly a whisper.

"Not at this exact moment in time," Severus reassured him. "But I've acquired some… interesting information. As I have made up my mind how I would proceed, I am not completely willing to take the burden for this decision alone, so I am in need of a second opinion from someone I completely trust. Even, so I am sure you will try to use the information for your own gain, you will think of your family first and decide accordingly."

Lucius hummed in acknowledgement and opened the door at the end of the hall for Severus to step through.

The summer tea room was painted in soft pastel colours, bathed in sunlight from the huge floor-to-ceiling windows which were all open to let in a soft breeze, and filled with plants and flowers of all kinds. In the far corner was a round table, covered with cakes, pastries and a steaming teapot, and encircled by four chairs. Narcissa sat on one of the chairs reading a book and sipping occasionally from her cup. She looked up from her reading as the both men approached the table, a small smile softening her aristocratic, pale features and warming her pale blue eyes. She stood up and greeted Severus with a soft peck on the cheek.

"What a pleasant surprise to see you today, Severus. I hope you are well?" She enquired while gesturing for him to sit down. A house-elf appeared and set teacups in front of Lucius and Severus. Narcissa poured the tea, sat down and looked at him questioningly.

Severus took a sip from his tea and steeled himself for the upcoming discussion.

"This morning I came across information which could mean the end for this war. In favour of either of the sides…

It was in the late afternoon when Harry woke from his nap. He fumbled for his glasses, yawned and ran his fingers through his hair, which was already sticking up in all directions, making it even messier, not that anybody could see it. He felt well rested and but a little bored. Still nothing more to do than wait.

Minding his back, Harry got up from his bed and removed his tee, inspecting the welts and cuts in the old, slightly broken mirror in his wardrobe. He winced and sighed, Vernon really hadn't held back this time. His back was a mangled mess of crusted wounds, deep red cuts and bruises in every possible shade, but at least nothing was open or bleeding, and it didn't look like anything was infected.

Harry sighed and pulled his tee on again, then settled on the floor and got some food from under the loose floorboard, savouring every bite and the feeling of a full stomach.

Searching for something to do, Harry looked through the pile of schoolbooks he had got from his school trunk the second night he had been back from Hogwarts. The Dursleys had been away for dinner and Harry had been locked in his bedroom as usual, but Vernon had only used the normal door lock and after the rescue during the summer before second year, the twins had showed Harry how to pick a lock. So, Harry had crept down to his old cupboard, picked the lock and grabbed what he could: quills, ink, parchment, a few schoolbooks, his wand, the invisibility cloak, his firebolt and the photo album with the pictures of his parents. Thank Merlin, Vernon never checked the cupboard and didn't look under Harry's bed, because the schoolbooks really didn't fit under the floor.

Taking out his Potions book, Harry got comfortable on his bed. He chuckled as he tried to imagine Snape's face if he ever found Harry reading a book about Potions for fun – or in this case, out of sheer boredom. Settling down, Harry started reading.

"Are you trying to tell me that our Lord found a way to secure his immortality and performed the required rituals without knowing the consequences, which led to insanity, magical and emotional instability, and blocking of the magical core?" Narcissa looked shocked, her fair complexion paling even more than usual. Lucius looked close to throwing up. Both fixed him with wide, horrified eyes, nearly pleading with him to tell him it was all a joke – a terrible joke.

"Yes, that sums it up quite nicely." Severus sighed.

"And most of these… live anchors, which you don't want to tell us what exactly they are, are destroyed?" Lucius inquired.

"Yes, only two are left. An attempt to destroy one more will be done shortly. And I know exactly where the last one is. And I have the means to destroy it."

"But….?" Lucius looked at his friend.

"If the information I got is correct, it could be that the destruction of nearly all of these anchors undid the damage to our Lords mind and magic. There is a high possibility that our Lord is sane again and has his magical strength back. But I am sure he will be none too pleased if all of them are destroyed, even if he is in his right mind again."

Lucius and Narcissa shared a brief look.

"So, what do you think? Should I destroy the last anchor, make the Dark Lord mortal and therefore give Dumbledore the possibility to defeat him once and for all? Or should I leave the anchor alone for now, in the hope that the Dark Lord is sane again and stops this meaningless killing and destruction." Severus took a sip of his tea.

"Both decisions could go terribly wrong…." For some time only silence filled the room. Then Narcissa took his hand and fixed him with a determined glare.

"Severus, you have a brilliant mind, and, in most situations, you can overrule your own emotions and make the logical choice. I am sure whatever decision you came to, we would approve. As I see it, the war must be stopped, too many magical lives were lost already, but we shouldn't lose sight of our own desires and aspirations. Yes, if the situation remains as it is now, Dumbledore and the Light side would be the better choice, and it would be your duty to end the bloodshed as fast as possible. But if the Dark Lord really is sane again, our side has a chance. A chance to survive without giving up our ways, without repression, without the need to deny our nature. Abraxas told us how it was in the beginning. How brilliant and powerful he was, how devoted and determined, before he changed and started the war. If there is even a slight possibility that this could be true, you must confirm it. You should seek out our Lord and gauge his sanity." Narcissa let go of his hand, leaned back into her chair and kept eye contact.

"Thank you." Severus set down his teacup, feeling like a huge weight had been lifted now that Narcissa and Lucius had come to the same conclusion as him.

"Lucius would you accompany me to our Lord?" Severus stood up and waited.

Narcissa and Lucius had a silent conversation, then Lucius gave her a chaste kiss on the cheek and rose from his chair. "Certainly, my friend."

Severus gave Narcissa a last nod and walked, with Lucius at his side, out of the room. Neither spoke a word as they walked through the manor. They stopped shortly as Lucius had to dismantle the wards around the wing the Dark Lord had chosen, which was only possible because Lucius was the master of the manor. Before they reached the door of the study, Severus took a deep breath. Bringing up his occlumency shield at full force, shifting his expression into one of absolute neutrality, he knocked at the door.

There was no answer. Even after a second louder knock, so Severus opened the door carefully. If the Dark Lord remained as he was, entering his study without invitation would be a death sentence, but as no dark curse came flying, Severus entered the room, Lucius directly behind him.

At first glance, the room looked empty, save Nagini sleeping in front of the smouldering fire. Then they saw a figure in one of the armchairs and approached it.

Both men gasped at what they saw. It was certainly the Dark Lord, but his features had changed since the last time they saw him. He still looked thin, but not unnaturally skeletal, and a thin layer of dark curls was visible atop his head. They couldn't say if his eyes had changed, because he seemed to be unconscious, but he had the base of a nose and his nostrils were round, not slits anymore. All in all, he had lost his snake-like features and looked nearly human again.

Severus and Lucius looked at each other in astonishment and shock and a little hope.

So, the splitting of his soul had also disfigured him, mused Severus, but it seemed not everything was changed back due to the soul merging. Severus wasn't sure if it was because two soul pieces were missing, or if Pettigrew had butchered the resurrection potion two summers ago. It intrigued him and perhaps, with his Lord's permission, he could try and find a solution to reverse the effects.

Carefully, Severus stepped nearer. The Dark Lord's breathing was deep and steady, and he didn't stir as Severus quietly called out to him so, he picked one of his hands up and checked for a pulse. Satisfied to find it strong and regular, Severus cast a simple diagnostic charm. Nothing seemed amiss, so he levitated the Dark Lord out of the armchair and moved him to one of the settees, which Lucius had transfigured into a bed. Both men settled into armchairs, waiting for their Lord to awaken, and grasping to the slightest glimmers of hope.

AN: Thanks for reading, please review and let me know what you think.

Many thanks to a-bit-of-madness for helping to improve my spelling and grammar.

First published: 4th of April 2018

Last edited: 29th October 2018