August 7, 1975 - Nazyalensky Home

When she awoke the next morning, her father had been gone. She'd searched the whole house - carefully, as not to disturb anything in case he returned. Even so, she could find no trace of him. Some food was gone from the kitchen, as was about half of his wardrobe, but everything else seemed untouched. Even so, she stayed on alert. There would be hell to pay should he return.

Gazing outside the kitchen window, Cassiopeia detachedly traced the pale scar on her side, the still-present remnant of her fight with the groundskeeper's creature. She didn't know what to do with herself. The summer was only half-over, but already she had little food, and even less money. She didn't even know how she'd get to King's Cross for her fifth year. Would she even be allowed to, after what she'd done? Would someone find out?

That thought scared her the most; to be known as a would-be murderer. That would be worse - so much worse than the whispers surrounding her supposed lack of virtue.

If only they knew, she thought bitterly. The marriage proposals had disgusted her, and she was overwhelmingly relieved that there had been no more forthcoming.

Hopefully, by the next year, they would be forgotten, she thought, pushing away from the table, and making her way upstairs. She thought, perhaps, to move her things to her old bedroom. It was spacious enough, and certainly more comfortable than the attic.

Glancing inside for a second, she decided to do so. Making three trips, she first brought down her trunk, next her unpacked things, and lastly the tiny owl which struggled and fought in her grasp.

It hadn't completely healed overnight, Cassie noticed, examining its wing once both of them had settled into the room. The junction between its body and the wing looked inflamed, and whenever she attempted to run her fingers over it, the owl began to struggle even more.

Giving it up as a lost cause, she brought the animal over to the window ledge, settling it just next to the glass. It stared at her reproachfully, and pecked at the glass as if it wanted to leave.

"I'm sorry, I can't let you go yet," she whispered, wondering if it would understand her. The bird bit her hand, which was hovering next to the wall, and Cassie yelped, giving it her own unhappy look.

Sighing, she let it be, gazing around at the room that had once - long ago - been her own. How long had it been since she'd slept inside? Years, it must have been. Dazedly, she wandered over to the bookshelves on the far wall, tracing the dust-covered spines. She remembered herself, at six years old, devouring these, begging her Ma to get her more. She'd complied, smiling, and Cassie remembered with a pang the proud smile that had graced her mother's face.

How would she feel, now? Cassiopeia turned away from the shelves, settling on the child-sized bed which creaked beneath her weight. Disgusted, probably. She'd always been so calm, always so careful not to lose her temper.

Cassie wasn't sure whether she believed in an afterlife, but if it was real she could just imagine her mother, staring with disapproval at her from above. Her raven brows would furrow, in that way they did when something bothered her, and –

She paused. What color were her eyes? With growing dread, she realized that she couldn't quite remember how her mother looked. The shape was there somewhat - a vague impression of a person - but the furrowed brows and proud smile she'd been imagining had been those of Eileen. Had her mother ever even made that face?

She couldn't remember. She couldn't remember.

The thought overwhelmed her with panic, and her eyes shot open, her heart beating wildly against her chest.

She couldn't remember.

Severus drummed his fingers against the tree, painfully aware of just how lost he must look. Eileen had often made him leave the house when a fight got too bad, but today was the first time he'd actually been kicked out by his father.

The reason? He wasn't sure, actually. Tobias' incoherent screaming before he'd slammed the door in his face had been difficult to decipher; the few words he'd made out being, 'money,' 'pub,' 'better off,' and 'dead.'

Not enough to understand fully, but he got the message. Sighing, he rubbed his shoulder, which had already started to develop an ugly bruise. Sober, Tobias was quick enough to get a few hits in, and a good enough shot that Severus couldn't escape from most of them.

Severus leaned his head back against the bark, thinking. His mother would probably be able to obliviate Tobias, although when she'd get the chance to do so varied wildly. It was highly possible he'd be spending the night outside. On the other hand, should something go wrong –

He exhaled harshly, his gaze drifting over the rooftops of houses just-visible through the branches surrounding him. Black-tiled and unkempt, they were still more presentable than those in Spinner's End.

His breath caught in his throat as he glimpsed a familiar house, recognizable only in that it was just higher than the ones surrounding it. When Tobias had returned from the pub mere minutes after he'd left, Severus had thought he'd be unable to keep his promise to himself. Now, however, it would be a missed opportunity if he didn't at least try.

The journey wasn't long, but the streets in Manchester were uneven and winding, and he was soon almost out of breath as he stood on the proper street. A car swept past him, and cursing, Severus shot its driver a glare. It was a new model, and he could see no reason why the man would drive it through their part of town except to show off.

Shaking his head, he surveyed the windows of Cassie's house, hoping to catch a glimpse of someone inside. There – right against one of the windows, he could just discern some movement –

Seconds later, Cassiopeia's face emerged from the darkness. Her expression was stricken as she gazed somewhere far off, and her face looked thinner than he'd seen in ages, her blue eyes stark against her pale face.

Merlin, what have I done?

August 10, 1975 - Snape House, Spinner's End

Days later, Severus had become almost beside himself in despair. He had no idea what to do, just that it needed to be something, otherwise he'd regret it till the day he died.

Salvation came in the early morning, in the form of an owl from Professor McGonagall.

Mr. Snape,

Your Animagus registration process was completed several days ago. There were some difficulties, unfortunately, but they were ultimately resolved in your favor. Enclosed is your official pin, and a certificate of registration. Do not worry; should one or both get lost, they are easily replaced.

I am extraordinarily proud of you, Mr. Snape. It has been quite some time since I have ever had a student attempt the transformation with me, much less succeed. You and Miss Nazyalensky both have surpassed my expectations, and should you wish to pursue a Mastery in Transfiguration, I would be overjoyed to oversee it.

I wish you a pleasant rest of your summer, and look forward to seeing you next year.

Regards,

Minerva McGonagall

The words had been painful to read; hearing his mentor sing his praises, unaware of what he'd done. Guilt and shame flooded through his body equally, and he struggled to keep his composure, even as he sat down to write. The school owl waited patiently by his side, probably thinking he was responding.

Lucius,

I hope this doesn't get into the wrong hands. I don't Please forgive me. You wouldn't know, but Cassiopeia and I got into a fight at the beginning of fall last year. We haven't talked to each other since. This summer I told Eileen that she was staying with you. I didn't think – I saw her today, from the window. She looks really bad, Lucius. If I'd known, I would have never – Please, could you come get her? I don't know what to do; Tobias has stopped leaving the house, and this owl is from the school. Please.

– Severus

He read it over once, sneering at how pathetic he sounded. Before he could change his mind, however, he rolled the parchment together, and tied it to the owl's leg with the old twine.

"Could you take this to Malfoy Manor?" he asked the bird, who seemed unhappy with the request. "Please – it's important."

The owl glared at him, but took off through the open window. Severus watched it, his throat tight, until he could see it no more.

•••

Thank you for reading, and thank you to SilentMayhem as well. I apologize that this chapter is shorter, but I've had a very busy week. I'm looking forward very much to writing the next chapter, however, and I hope you'll enjoy it too. Have a wonderful week!