They Didn't Know We Were Seeds
Priscilla sits in the kitchen eating porridge and making idle chatter with her grandma while her grandfather reads the paper and her parents squabble in the background about what kind of lunch they should have the house-elf put together for her father. She hasn't seen her aunt or uncle yet, but that is of no concern to her. Chances are likely they are enjoying each other's company before they have to leave for work today. That assumption is proven incorrect not two minutes later when Priscilla's uncle appears at the kitchen's threshold, face wearing an odd smile she can't place.
"If no one minds, I would like to take a walk with my niece in the garden before she leaves for Hogwarts again," Uncle Augustus announces, still wearing his strange smile and eyes fixed expectantly on her now.
Her father hardly looks away from mother as he says, "No, of course, I hope two have a lovely time."
Priscilla feels her eyes bulge and she begins to complain, "I don't want to. Father, it's cold—"
Before she can finish, however, her uncle, tone strained, says, "Priscilla, humor me, won't you?" His smile falls away as he tells her, "I fear I am to be quite busy soon and I won't have time for you this summer."
"I—" she stops and sighs in defeat. Her father is glaring at her now and Uncle Augustus is holding his arm out to her to grab hold of. "Yes, all right, Uncle Augustus," she relents getting up and wishing her grandma a polite goodbye.
"I will see you soon," the old woman murmurs comfortingly as Priscilla pushes her chair in, making it screech on purpose to grate on her parents' nerves. Her mother scowls and her father intensifies his glare as she stalks over to Uncle Augustus and lays her hand on his arm, allowing him to guide her away from the kitchen and soon after, outside.
A couple of minutes after walking along the garden's path, her uncle asks Priscilla, "Are you excited to go back to school? I know I always enjoyed returning after hols." Uncle Augustus chuckles. "Even if I didn't look forward to having to get up before eight to go to classes."
She presses her lips into a thin line as she thinks of her snobby, rabbiting roommates. She'd never been mates with any of them, not even during her first life. At best, they had tolerated her at worst… Well, Priscilla feels sure even that was truly not so bad. Not compared to the stories her mother had about some of her Slytherin dormmates in her day. "I suppose," she answers finally.
Uncle Augustus glances at her, understanding in his eyes. "I see," he says, "you are so much like Father, Priscilla. He has never been much for people either. If it weren't for Mother, he would turn into a recluse."
"I know," Priscilla replies, truly meaning it. Her grandfather is a part of the Death Eaters, like Uncle Augustus and his wife, but when he was sentenced after the war in her first life, it was only for a handful of years. The courts felt that was more than sufficient a punishment for someone like her grandfather. Who even as he conspired with the Death Eaters, had actually done quite little beyond offering his home, support, and money to the cause. When he'd come home from Azkaban he'd never strayed farther than the property lines again. It was up to Priscilla's mother to ensure he was cared for since Grandma was dead and Priscilla a married woman who had her own in-laws to tend to.
She can feel the man looking at her intently a moment before he continues, "…Yes. As I was saying, you remind me greatly of Father. It came to a great surprise to all of us you were sorted into Mother's house instead of Slytherin like the rest of us."
She fights the urge to feel ashamed. Priscilla has no reason to be. She knows what she did, she went to the house of the person who she really loved. The only one she'd ever cared to make proud, her grandmother. Jutting out her chin, Priscilla replies, "Grandma was very happy, Mother wrote she even cried when she heard of my sorting."
"She was," agrees Uncle Augustus. "We took it to mean perhaps you were… Perhaps not so suited to the family business."
Priscilla can't help but snort. "Sorry," she immediately says afterward. "I didn't mean to be rude."
Instead of frowning at her, Uncle Augustus's lips quirk with the start of a smile. "It's quite alright, Priscilla. I am starting to realize that perhaps that is the exact sentiment we should have treated your sorting."
"What?" she says, looking up, confused. What is her uncle saying? Is he… Is he going to tell her about the Death Eaters, what happened the night the Lestranges were given the cup?
He put his free hand over the hand she still had resting on his forearm. "I saw you," he tells her. "You are curious, I am sure."
Priscilla looks away, unsettled. She doesn't want to talk about that night with her uncle. With anyone, really. "Not really…"
"No?" he replies, surprised.
Priscilla sighs and pulls away from her uncle. Staring up at him through her lashes, she admits, "I kind of already figured it out. You all were doing something for the Death Eaters' cause, right?"
He looks uncomfortable a moment. "They talk of us in Hufflepuff?"
She looks to the overcast sky. "Well…"
"I imagine it's not very positive, is it?" he asks, putting his hands behind him.
Priscilla keeps her eyes up as she puckers her lips and admits, "I can't say it is, Uncle Augustus."
He steps closer to her. "You understand those who talk poorly are wrong, don't you?" he asks. "You are clever enough to understand that much, aren't you?"
Her gaze snaps to them, hands ball into fists. "I am not stupid, Uncle Augustus," she seethes.
"No," he replies, shying back and putting up his palms for her to see. "But you understand, yes? The Death Eaters are working toward a better world where we will not have to hide anymore. The Muggles…" he starts, lips curling into a sneer, "they are little better than house-elves." Eyes flashing, he hisses, "If anyone should be hiding, it is them."
She licks her lips. Her next words matter. If she says something wrong, who knows what will happen. "I… " she begins only to realize it is wrong. Priscilla breathes in and out. Meeting her uncle's bright gaze she says, "Maybe, Uncle Augustus. But the people the Death Eaters hurt, kill…" she trails off and turns her gaze to his chin. "What happens if you aren't successful?" she asks.
His nostrils flare and cheeks redden. "Who's told you we won't be?" he growls. "The cause has the very best wizards and witches! There is no world where we won't win."
Priscilla keeps her mouth firmly closed at her Uncle's declaration. Even so, she can't help the grim thought, 'Except there is.'
"I want the Death Eaters to win," she whispers in an attempt to soothe the red from his face. "I'm certain we will," she lies meeting his gaze again for a brief moment before she looks away and brings a hand to her mouth. Around her pointer, she mumbles, "It's just that I can't help but be scared of the possibility… What happens then, Uncle Augustus?"
Her uncle sighs. "You are like your Grandfather, but I see now you are like your father too. He lacks faith too."
She frowns behind her pointer finger. "Faith? Uncle, I know I'm not finished with my studies, but I have already figured out it is not easy to topple a government as long-lived or steady as our own." And to think, their family had considered Augustus the brilliant one. The pride of the Rookwoods. It seems to Priscilla now he'd never been all that intelligent if he hadn't truly thought about how difficult it would be to entirely take over the Ministry and destroy the Order and other resistance wizards and witches at the same time. Oh, she'd give credit where credit was due, they had almost done it. However, hubris did them in, not once, but twice.
Uncle Augustus shakes his head at her like she's a silly child and offers her his arm once again. "I imagine it's nearly time for you to go and catch the Express," he says. "…If you ever find that you not only believe as the cause does, but believe in it, I will be here to show you the way, dear niece."
It takes everything in Priscilla to force down the vitriol bubbling in her throat, but when she does, she whispers, hoarse, "Thank you, Uncle Augustus."
-o-O-o-
When Severus passes Hogwarts's threshold, the strain in his shoulders let up and his steps lighten ever so slightly. Hogwarts is home, in spite of everything, and he often finds himself wondering what it will be like not to spend most of his year in its corridors and classrooms as he does now. He hated teaching, yet… If it means he could stay, Severus could see himself taking up the mantle of teaching once again.
"Severus!"
He turns to see Sirius coming at him full-throttle. Severus stiffens when the other wraps an arm around him, but after a moment, returns it. Years into this friendship, he still shies away from Sirius's touch and he knows he shouldn't, but it's still difficult to completely disconnect the one who's befriended him with the one who tried to murder him. "How were your hols?" Severus asks when he pulls away.
"Good," he answers as they aimlessly start to walk in the direction of the Great Hall for dinner. "Narcissa put a lot of work into making it special, she decorated one of the trees in gold and yellow," he admits.
"Trees?" Severus murmurs.
Sirius nods. "Yes, trees," he replies. "She also made a couple of my favorite sides for Christmas Eve dinner with Lucius, his father, and Regulus." He sighs a little. "And then had their house-elf, Dobby, make sure I would have all of my favorites the next evening when she, Lucius, and Abraxas went to the Black family dinner and left me alone at the manor." The teenager reaches into his robe and pulls out a mirror. "She also helped me enchant the two-way mirror James sent me to work with the set she and Lucius have."
Severus raises an eyebrow. "So now you can talk to Narcissa, James, and… Lucius on it?"
He scrunches his nose. "Yeah," he admits. "But I think I'll only be calling James and Narcissa." Sirius's lips curve then. "By the way, Lucius did ask about you. He wanted to know if you were still a 'prickly little snot'."
"What did you say?" asks Severus, more amused than offended.
His friend laughs. "I told him you are as much a snot as he's a prick these days."
Severus grins. "I can't imagine Lucius liked that."
Sirius shrugs with his hands up. "He isn't so bad, really, when it's just him and Narcissa."
"No, he isn't," agrees Severus, thinking back to the handful of times he visited the couple at their home and them at his. Lucius was always a calmer, almost amenable man when he felt there was no one around he felt he needed to keep up appearances for.
Sirius looks at him then a moment, a slight furrow between his brows. "…Right," he says. "Anyway, that's not even the exciting stuff!"
"Oh?" Severus prompts.
Sirius nods. "After New Years, when I was in Diagon with James I ran into my cousin Andromeda!" Severus watches as Sirius splays out the fingers on a hand and then gestures to just below his hip. "She had this little girl with her too."
"The little girl, was she Andromeda's?"
He grins. "Yeah, her name's Nymphadora. The kid is wicked! She's a metamorphmagus!"
"What did Narcissa think when you told her about her niece?"
Sirius falters and looks away. "I, um, didn't…" he mutters. "Andromeda asked me not to and I want to see her and her kid again, so," he rubs the back of his neck, offering an embarrassed smile to Severus, "that's okay, right?"
Severus stares back at Sirius as neutrally as he can. "That's for you to decide," he tells him. Severus understands Sirius choosing silence over telling, but can't help but wish he might have said something to Narcissa. That he might still. Who knows what knowing about her niece now, while she is still so young, her sister's disownment so fresh, might do? Narcissa is the weakest link in the Malfoy family. Once broken with the news of her sister and niece, she might be spurred to defect. Lucius would be quick to follow her.
Severus knows Lucius to be many terrible things, but he has always treated Narcissa like an equal in his marriage— Perhaps even as a better at times. As long as Severus has known the two, Lucius has only wanted her happy. Maybe even more than he's ever wanted his father proud. Even if Abraxas refused to fold for his son, as Lucius would for Narcissa, and disowned them, they would still be an asset for the Order and its cause. Lucius and Narcissa are quite formidable and influential in their own right.
"I really wanted to," Sirius tells him. "I just… I didn't want to upset either of them. I know it would only make Narcissa sad and Andromeda would be so disappointed in me."
He nods. "I am sure," he says. "Have you considered perhaps it's something Narcissa needs to know? How is she to ever figure out how wrong your family is if she doesn't know what she's missing?"
Sirius looks down and shuffles his feet. "Do you think so?"
"I don't see how her knowing she has a niece will bring anything bad upon Andromeda and her family. Narcissa is not driven by spite."
Sirius barks a laugh. "No, that's Mother and Bellatrix." Smiling a little, he says, "I'll think about it. You don't think she'll be terribly upset I waited until I was back at Hogwarts to tell her?" he hardens his features slightly. "If I do, that is."
He shakes his head at his friend. "No, not terribly."
"Thanks, Severus," Sirius says, bending in for another brief hug. "You're the only one I ever feel like who gets stuff when I talk about my family."
Severus is so stunned by the words he can't respond to the hug. When Sirius starts to pull away, he whispers, "It's no trouble."
-o-O-o-
After dinner, part of Severus thinks he ought to find Priscilla and question her about the mission. If it really went as smoothly as it all seemed or if she overheard anything that could be of use to them later. Yet an even larger part simply wants to go to the Slytherin dorms with Sage and spend a quiet night there. Soon there will be no more quiet nights and if there's anything life has taught him, it's to savor what little peace he can make for himself.
However, perhaps an hour after sitting down in the common room to partake in a game of Wizarding Chess with Sage while helping Scabior with homework, which he should have finished days ago, his quiet night is interrupted.
"Mr. Snape!" Professor Slughorn calls, drawing his eyes away from the board and to the portly man where he stands just in front of them. He wears a smile, but Severus can see it is terse like he's just added it to his face as an afterthought. Oh, this will be good . He is sure whatever the man has to say to him will bring an end to his peace. "Just the young man I was looking for," babbles Slughorn as he clasps his hands in front of his protruding stomach. "The Headmaster has requested your presence in his office.
Severus bites the inside of his cheek to stop the scowl that wants to mar his features. The Headmaster wishes to see him now ? Quietly Severus sighs. Well, he supposes he should have expected such. The old man's been unusually charitable as it is, leaving him alone for so long after his initial rebuke. "Of course," he says, getting up from the table he's sitting at. "Thank you, Professor Slughorn." He looks back at Sage and Scabior, who gaze up at him, expressions equally troubled. It's amusing, in a way. Sage has a far better idea what's happening than Scabior, but it doesn't take any kind of genius to know that being called to the Headmaster's office, especially after holidays, does not signal something good.
"Severus?" his brother murmurs.
He offers a confident smirk in return. "It's fine, Sage. I expected this would happen." He cocks his head to the left just a little, a thought coming to him. Perhaps he can strike some kind of bargain tonight with Albus. He will give the old man something if he'll help Severus a little too. Eyes back on Sage, he says, "The timing might even turn out to be optimal."
His brother still looks unsure, but replies, a curious lift to the mutter, "Oh?"
Severus nods. "Yes. I will see you soon." He glances once at Scabior, who's watching him just as closely, if not even more so, than his brother. Bending down, he cups his hands around Sage's ears and whispers, "If not… Find Lily. And if you cannot find her, owl Demitri."
"When you tell me to do those kinds of things speaking with the Headmaster doesn't sound safe or optimal at all," grumbles Sage, crossing his arms as Severus rights himself.
"No, I suspect it doesn't," agrees Severus, unconcerned. As certain as he is that everything will be fine for him no matter the course the discussion takes, it's never wrong to be safe. He knows this. Just as he knows this world depends on things going accordingly, and if they do not, having someone capable of steering it back on track. "Really, all is well," he reassures Sage, "the years have simply taught me caution is always warranted— Even when you expect to be safe."
Sage looks little appeased from his answer. "Good luck, I suppose," he says.
Severus pats his brother's shoulder before standing up. "Thank you," he replies before he leaves.
-o-O-o-
Severus walks into Albus's office to find him in the midst of jotting down something. A note? Signature? It didn't matter because almost as quickly as Severus saw him put his quill to the parchment, Albus took it away and returned it to its place in his ink bottle. He looks up and offers him a polite, upturn curve of his lips. "Ah, Mr. Snape," he says, "hello. How did your holidays treat you?"
With no small amount of reluctance, he moves toward the man's desk and takes a seat in the chair placed in front of it. The one clearly conjured over in preparation for his visit. "Good evening, sir," he returns as he crosses his legs and leans back in the chair. "My holidays were fine."
Albus reaches for a small glass jar kept off to one side. Taking off the lid, he offers the contents to Severus who already feels his lips curving in revulsion. "Lemon sherbert?" the old man offers just as his face fixes itself in an expression of disgust. Albus quickly puts the lid back on and puts the jar back where it came from "Or perhaps a licorice wand? I have a small selection in my drawer," he suggests as he eyes Severus with consideration.
Severus raises his occlumency shields before the old man even finishes talking. Perhaps it's just happenstance he offer Severus the one treat he actually likes, perhaps it's not. Either way, making sure his mind is safe and all that he shares is only because he wants to is very important to Severus. Albus needs to know things to help keep this war from becoming as devastating or worse than he remembers it being back in his first life, but he does not need to know more as far as Severus is concerned. "No, sir, I'm fine," he answers finally, unable to keep all the contempt he feels from his tone.
Albus, of course, notices. He is quiet for a long moment before he asks Severus, "Do you know why you are here, Mr. Snape?"
He meets the old man's gaze and does not flinch when he says, "Yes."
Albus nods and moves to steeple his hands in front of him, leaning closer to Severus ever so slightly. "How do you feel about returning to the topic of this other reality?"
"I will agree to it," he says coolly. A smirk toying with the corners of his lips, he remarks, "You have let me be longer than I expected."
"Oh?" the old man replies, eyebrows lifting to sit high on his forehead.
"I…" he begins only to realize his mistake and shake his head. Severus breathes in and out and considers with care his next words. When he speaks them, he is sure Albus's eyes are fixed on his own. "While you earned a great deal of respect from me, I never did come to like you," he admits. "Near your end, you especially wore on me. You gave me little time to think, to find alternatives. I see now that it was because you knew your time was drawing to an end and you hoped to set off a series of events that would lead to an outcome where our side of the war won."
Albus does not look surprised or bothered by his words. Eyes sharp, he demands, "Did we?"
"Yes," Severus says.
The old man leans back, seemingly mollified. However, it's only for a moment as he then says, dubious, "But you are here."
He frowns, irritated and cross at himself for not asking more questions of his fellow travelers about what all they had told Albus after the incident with the Basilisk. "Priscilla, did she not explain?"
The old man nods his head. "Yes, she did. I suppose I find it difficult to understand how we could have won and yet…" he trails off and looks Severus up and down.
He bristles. "Our victory was not an easy one, Albus," he snaps. "So many were lost in this war now . In the next, it was worse." He looks away and mutters to himself, "Much worse." He sighs then and returns his attention to Albus. He tries to make him understand that even though they'd done it, they'd won , for Mei Cresswell it was not enough. "The witch who sent us here, she lost so much. Our victory, it wasn't her victory. She had lost her husband, her home, livelihood, I imagine many friends too, I don't know of her sons… But it's not out of the realm of possibilities. I didn't know her well – at all – Dirk is the one who might best understand her motivations most fully, but he is missing pieces too. He died before the war's end so he can only presume just like the rest of us in the end."
Albus expression is disbelieving as he says, "This is truly the only reason you four are here? A grief-stricken widow performed what very well could have been ritualistic dark magic because she didn't care for the outcome of the war?"
"Yes," he says. "This war, the next, it's all because of one man, isn't it?" he asks Albus who blinks, seemingly stunned. "This witch, she wanted Dirk alive and well, even if it was not where she was. She wants him safe. To do so, she chose myself and Lily to return alongside Dirk." Severus will never know with any true certainty why she chose him to send here when there are so many other people who could do what she wants – help make a better world for Dirk to live and thrive in – but she nevertheless had and he will do what he can to further her goal and ensure his greatest regret, Lily's death, does not happen again. "She wants us to help Dirk by saving this reality from the fate our own suffered so he can live here at peace." Putting a hand on his chest, he made eye contact with Albus and said with great emphasis, " We can end this, Albus, and far earlier than before. We four have already destroyed two Horcruxes! And a third can be done by next week."
He furrows his brows at Severus, perplexed."Two? I thought the journal was all you four had rid the world of."
Severus crosses his arms and smirks, basking in the smug knowledge the old man hasn't gleaned from his mind or any of the others what they accomplished just days ago. "There was a second we took care of during our hols."
"You…" he utters, too shocked for anything more eloquent.
"Yes," he says, smirk broadening into a grin, "a second ."
Albus stares at him for a long moment before he closes his eyes and leans back in his chair. Voice thin, he says, "There's a third you can quickly destroy?"
Severus dips his chin in agreement. "Yes. It's in the Room of Requirements. I don't suppose you know how to access it?" he asks, only to wave a hand to indicate for Albus not to answer. At least not yet. "I have a theory how to, but if I knew for certain that would be much easier."
"I do," replies Albus.
Satisfied with this, he says, "I will want those instructions before I leave, but before I have those, I must ask for your help locating the last of the Horcruxes."
The old man's eyebrows lift high on his forehead a moment. "You think I will know their locations?"
"Perhaps," he answers, pursing his lips. "You are who found the ring."
"Ring?" he echoes with interest.
Severus considers how to reply. How much does he say about it? How little? In the end, he decides on the most minimal amount possible is the best course for the time being. "I do not know everything about it," he admits, "but I believe it belonged to Voldemort's grandfather."
A hand goes to Albus's beard and he gives it a thoughtful stroke eyes shifting to something off in the right-hand corner of the room."Hmm, I shall see what can be done," says Albus.
He nods, accepting the answer. It will suffice. This will only be the first in many meetings to come he knows and more information can be exchanged then. "There is one more potentially," Severus continues, "it's a locket, Slytherin's locket, specifically. I know you found its location before, though, I do not believe the locket there was his Horcrux at the time."
A look of doubt flashes across his features before it smoothes away into neutrality as he asks, "And it is now?"
He shrugs. Severus is uncertain when exactly it was (is?) made. It may exist now, safely protected by Voldemort around his neck or one of his followers or it could be nothing more than an idea not yet birthed into reality. "If it is there," says Severus.
"What if it is not?" he returns.
Severus makes his features appear entirely unconcerned as he explains, evasive even now, "I have been putting in a great deal of effort in keeping a line of communication open with the one who replaced the Horcrux with a forgery in my first life."
Albus appears unhappy with his answer."I see…" he murmurs before, louder, he says, "But you are certain the ring shall be where I found it originally?"
"Yes, I am positive."
Albus stares at him then, considering. Severus knows he's thinking about another question to ask, one he may get some kind of true answer to, unlike his others. "There is a question I have, perhaps several more, depending on the answer."
"Yes?" he says.
"During this war, do you know which of the Order's members fall? Perhaps how for some?" Albus questions.
Severus frowns. He does and doesn't know who dies. He knew many Order members in his reality, but not all of them. Some Severus only knew by name, their deaths preceding him joining the war and a few even him graduating Hogwarts. Most witches and wizards he knows die and how are from the Second War more than the first, which is of little use to Albus. It's grudgingly done, as he hates to admit to how little he truly knows of the war now, but he answers, "Some, yes, others, I do not. I was a student when this war began. It's why I didn't know Lewis Fenwick would perish at his family's New Years Eve party until it had happened. I can tell you who died, but I do not know how useful it will be for you. I most cases, I was either a student when they happened and so I do not know many details or their deaths are anywhere from a couple of years away to over two decades from now – if they will happen at all this time."
The man gives a long, weary sigh; a thumb and forefinger wedge themselves beneath his glasses to rub the bridge of his nose and ease whatever headache he must have coming on. "I will take whatever you can give me," he replies. "Perhaps something can be done with the information to help safeguard our members."
"Perhaps," agrees Severus. Sometimes it is truly more a curse to have come back so far. So much had already gone on before he jumped into the thick of the war and at times he feels like a blind man reaching around in the dark instead of the well-versed spy he is. "In exchange…?"
"In exchange, I will look into the ring and locket and give you written instructions for how to find the Room of Requirement," he replies firm, meeting Severus's gaze once more
Satisfied, Severus relaxes slightly."Thank you, sir," he says.
"No, thank you, Severus."
-O-
Severus returns to his dorm to find Lily and Sage waiting outside in the shadows. He raises an eyebrow at his brother as he draws closer to them. Sage ducks his head and Severus finds himself amused. It seems his brother's nerves got the better of him. "Hello," he says to them, accepting Lily's hand when she slips it into his own and giving it a reassuring squeeze. Turning to Sage, he says, teasing, "I see you worried I wouldn't return."
His brother flushes. "I didn't like the idea of Lily not knowing you were called to speak with Professor Dumbledore."
"And Dirk? Priscilla?"
Sage only turns redder. "I… I didn't know how they'd like me coming to their dorms and asking for them." He looks at Lily. "I knew you wouldn't mind."
Lily smiles at the teenager. "No, I don't," she looks like she wants to touch him too, though to comfort him instead of seeking it for herself, but holds still. Sage is not likely to appreciate it the way a more tactile sort may. "Dirk wouldn't of, I know." Her smile wavers slightly as she tells him, "I think Priscilla would have understood too."
"Either way," Severus says, "All is well, just as I said it would be." He smirks. "Perhaps even better." He meets Lily's gaze and says, "I reckon we can take care of the next Horcrux tomorrow."
Her eyes alight with excitement, though, it is quickly tempered with trepidation. "Will this be like retrieving Basilisk poison?"
"Not at all," Severus says. He looks at Sage. "Perhaps you would even like to come with us? It shall be quite interesting for you, I imagine."
Sage blinks. Then, a small smile working its way onto his face, nods. "Yes, I would like to come."
Severus smirks, satisfied. "Good," he says. "Very good."
How did you enjoy the chapter? We've finally had a serious conversation with Albus! Interesting? Excited for them to go for that third Horcrux?
Thanks a million for reading :)
Edited: 1/13/19