Author's Note: In general, I'm trying to post once per week. This bonus chapter is brought to you by Martin Luther King Day. Go out and fight injustice, y'all.

As one of my reviewers noted, I am trying very hard to keep this story canon compliant. As you know, Severus did not have an easy life in canon, so the story will continue to be very dark for some chapters to come. Things will ease up a bit in the wake of Voldemort's death, but don't expect Severus to find true peace until he hits his sixties. As Aziz predicted, it's going to be a long time.

I promise you that he will find happiness in the end. Not in an instant, nor by magic, but in the only way true happiness can be found: by hard work, perseverance, and holding on to hope.

Chapter Ten

Reconciliation and Remorse

Severus was halfway through brewing a Dreamless Sleep potion when the owl arrived. He took the letter from it brusquely, then shooed it away. "I don't keep food in my potions lab," he growled. The owl took off in a huff, and Severus returned to crushing the aconite.

It was not until half an hour later, when the potion was simmering, that Severus remembered the missive he'd received. He'd assumed it had been from Master Greengrass—who was now on paternity leave, taking care of Aurelia after the premature birth of their daughter—but the loopy handwriting on the outside of the envelope belonged to Albus Dumbledore.

"Humbug," he groused.

After he opened and read the letter, however, a warm feeling suffused through his body. He'd been wondering what would happen after his internship ended (as it would, shortly after Master Greengrass returned from leave) and here, in his hands, was an unsolicited job offer.

Dear Severus,

I've been wondering how we could best facilitate communication between us without arousing V's attention. With the recent retirement of Horace Slughorn, we now have two faculty openings here at Hogwarts for the upcoming schoolyear. Please apply for the Defense Against the Dark Arts position and tell V. that you've done so. Just know that the Potions position will be yours—you'd be the most qualified applicant.

Albus Dumbledore

~~SS~~

Voldemort was delighted to hear that Severus had applied for the Defense Against the Dark Arts position. "Just think," he cackled. "You could be shaping every young wizard's perception of the Dark Arts for years to come."

When Severus, instead, landed the Potions position, he put on his best apologetic act for his master. "I'm sorry, Master, I did try. Potions is my art, but I do not feel that I can serve you as well in that capacity."

Voldemort waved one bony hand. "Nonsense, Severus. I've been hoping to get someone into Hogwarts to report on Dumbledore's moves, and you'll be set up quite nicely to do just that. I'm pleased to have such a talented wizard in my entourage."

~~SS~~

Severus had thought he'd be good at teaching potions. After all, he was a master brewer, having completed an apprenticeship under another master. Plus, he had years of Aziz's patient tutelage to draw on. Alas, not all of his students were as eager or as talented as he'd been.

In addition, he hadn't realized quite how much the sheer noise of Hogwarts affected him. As a student, he'd been able to seek out quiet nooks and crannies when he needed solitude—for example, he'd often taken both his breakfast and lunch "to go" and eaten down by the lake—but he was not allowed to do this as a professor. By the time he got to the end of each day, his head felt as though it were a bell that had been pounded repeatedly by a hammer. If it were his turn to do rounds in the evening, he would be in a smashingly terrible mood, and would often take it out on any curfew breakers he found. And God help anyone who ended up in detention with him!

Over time, with Aziz's patient guidance, he learned that if he shouted in the classroom, so would all of his students; but if he all but whispered, they would be quiet so they could hear him. He learned that if he instilled fear in them, they would pay better attention to what they were doing and would be less likely to melt their cauldrons. But he couldn't be as patient as Aziz was; not with the constant buzz of noise that tormented his brain. He felt like he was walking around with dozens of itchy mosquito bites.

After about six months, with Aziz's help, he had devised a pair of invisible ear coverings that would shut out a lot of ambient noise while still allowing him to hear conversations near him. He could wear these in the Great Hall at meals and other such occasions, and these helped immensely. But he needed to hear all of the noise while teaching, and so he remained irritable—just a bit less so. He also learned that it was better to deduct copious amounts of points than to assign detentions. If someone did warrant a detention, he tended to foist them off on other staff members—Kettleburn, who frequently had manure to shovel, was a favorite. He did take some detentions himself, though: generally, the students who actually showed aptitude for potions and could therefore be conscripted into doing ingredient prep.

There were parts of teaching he did enjoy, though: primarily, the N.E.W.T.-level classes where all of the participants were both talented and eager to be there. Here, he felt he was in his element, and at the end of his first year, the N.E.W.T. students had the highest pass rate in decades. As for the lower-level students—well, there were fewer injuries in lab than Slughorn had had, and that had to be something of a win.

But the best part of the day, as far as he was concerned, was when he could retreat to his quarters and just brew. He brewed for the Hogwarts infirmary; he brewed for Voldemort; and he brewed potions of his own devising. He was researching in any spare time he could find: mostly protective potions for the Order of the Phoenix or for Harry Potter. He loved the research associated with developing a new potion and wished he could do it full-time.

There was one nice thing about being at Hogwarts: Voldemort almost never called him to torment Muggles anymore. Leaving the grounds was something that even Voldemort understood he couldn't do frequently, so most of his assignments were for potions. Completed potions were often owled to Lucius Malfoy. Information on Dumbledore's movements (carefully vetted by Dumbledore himself, of course) was passed on to other Death Eaters at The Three Broomsticks; Voldemort then got Severus's information second-hand. In short, teaching at Hogwarts meant that Severus almost never had to see the Dark Lord face-to-face, something he greatly appreciated.

~~SS~~

In early July 1981, Severus called for his djinn. He'd been worried that the Dark Lord would call on him more during the summer, but no; Voldemort wanted him right where he was, keeping an eye on Albus Dumbledore. Severus had therefore spent his time at Hogwarts, reading about ancient protective spells. Unfortunately, none of them seemed appropriate for his purpose—protecting Harry Potter. The Potters had been hidden by a Fidelius Charm soon after Severus told Albus Dumbledore about Voldemort's choice. The Dark Lord had become more and more agitated at his inability to find the baby who might become his nemesis and was starting to resort to extraordinary measures to find him. So Severus and Aziz had been researching protection spells, for months, but usually ended up going down blind alleys. Now Severus realized that what he needed was additional, extra-focused power from Aziz.

"Aziz, I'm trying to formulate a wish. I know we need to keep Harry Potter alive until he can defeat the Dark Lord—should I just wish for that? Or should I re-word it?"

"Hmmm. You might use another wish later; maybe you could wish to find the right spell to keep him alive until he comes of age?"

"That sounds specific enough. Thanks! Aziz, I wish to find the right spell to keep Harry Potter alive until he comes of age." Both man and djinn closed their eyes, enjoying the thrum of power that surged through both of them as the wish took hold. Then they opened their eyes, looked at each other, and said in unison: "Blood Magic."

"I believe there's a book you might need at Prince Hall," Aziz added.

"All right, let's go!"

Severus sauntered lazily out of the castle and waved cheerfully at Pomona Sprout, who was deadheading roses. She was one of the few teachers who had been excited to have him return to Hogwarts, and he often sat by her at staff meetings. They often traded favors—he'd brew restorative potions for ailing plants, and she, in turn, would send him the best potions ingredients from her greenhouses. The other staff members thought he was a grump (which was probably true), but Pomona—who was exactly the same age as his grandmother, Bridget—was very vocal about telling her colleagues that he'd turned out pretty well, considering the family he'd come from.

Severus passed through the gates and slipped off the main road, walking along a track that led up a hill and into the woods. When he was out of sight, he pushed up his sleeve to reveal his charm bracelet, then touched the lion and flower charms together.

The ancient artifact always brought him directly into the grand entry hall of the Prince family estate and, furthermore, alerted the house elves to his arrival. Today, it was Mopsy who met him.

"How is Master Severus doing today? And how is Master Severus's djinn?"

Severus gaped at her for a while before asking, "How do you know about my djinn?"

"House elves is seeing everything, master, it is part of our magic. If Master Tiberius asks us directly if you is having a djinn, we must say yes, for he is head of the family. But otherwise—" here the little elf shrugged with a rueful smile—"it is your secret and we keeps it gladly."

Aziz popped into visibility and bowed deeply to Mopsy. "I am Aziz and I am grateful that we can speak. As one of the few on earth who understands house-elf magic deeply, I have the deepest respect for the matriarch of a great line. I honor you for your service to my master."

Mopsy blushed. "We is able to create elf-made wine for immortals, Aziz. Someday I will present you with a bottle."

Aziz doffed his cap to the elf. "That would be much appreciated, Lady Mopsy. My master is here to use the library, and he has not eaten lunch yet." Aziz spoke the last five words with disdain: he was constantly prodding Severus to eat. (In fact, the djinn often told Severus that following the strict Hogwarts schedule during the schoolyear was a boon to someone of his personality.)

Mopsy squeaked in delight and assured Severus that she would have a roast-beef sandwich brought to the library shortly. "With lemon biscuits and tea. We remembers your favorites, Master Severus."

There were, in fact, fifteen volumes on blood magic in the Prince family library. Severus started from the left side of the shelf, while Aziz started from the right. (Being somewhat ghostly, Aziz could not physically turn the pages; but he could use a levitating spell to turn them.) They worked through dinner (Cottie brought more sandwiches; she said it was the one meal they could eat without ruining the books) and on into the night. At last, Aziz told Severus to go to bed. He would re-read the books Severus had read, just in case he'd missed something, and they'd start fresh in the morning. So Severus went to the room that the house-elves had long ago designated as his, collapsed into bed fully clothed, and slept deeply.

The following morning, he was up at dawn, reading with Aziz. A few hours later, he found a spell that looked like it would work. "Aziz, I think this will work. But oh, God, the cost…"

Aziz read over his master's shoulder and inhaled sharply. "Bring this book to Dumbledore. It must be their own decision."

~~SS~~

Dumbledore was also clearly perturbed by the spell Severus had found, but he also felt that the Potters should be given the option. So he made an unauthorized Portkey (which was, Severus discovered, the only way the Potters could leave their house without being tracked) to bring both of the Potters to Hogwarts. Severus had hoped that Dumbledore alone would speak to James and Lily, but for some reason, the headmaster had asked Severus to come to the meeting—but to wait outside his office door until called. And since Severus had made an Unbreakable Vow to obey Dumbledore, he did as he was told.

~~SS~~

"We have discovered a spell that will be one hundred percent effective in preventing Voldemort from killing your son before he comes of age."

Severus stood on the staircase, his ear pressed against the wooden door to Dumbledore's office.

"Oh, Albus, that's great news!"

"It is a harsh spell. You may not feel that way when you've read it. But first, I want to introduce you to the man who's been my right hand when it comes to spell research."

Severus stood up straight just as the door opened with a flourish. Lily clapped her hands over her gaping mouth; James leaped out of his chair, an angry look on his face. "Dumbledore! Why should we trust this idiot? Do you know—"

"Hush," Albus Dumbledore commanded and, amazingly, James Potter complied. "Severus, come in and have a seat."

Severus obeyed, then fixed his nemesis with a withering glare. "James, I appreciate all the work you do on behalf of the order, but just to be clear, I don't inherently care about your safety. I work for Dumbledore for two reasons. Firstly, I want to bring down the master who marked me, bound me to him, without my desire or consent. And your son has been prophesied to be the one who will do that."

Lily shuddered, and he turned to her. "And secondly—Lily, do you remember that day when we were ten? When the gang of four jumped on me after school and were pounding my head against the pavement?"

She winced, closing her eyes, and nodded.

"And your dear wife, James, just a little pipsqueak herself, drew herself up to her full miniscule height and told them that only cowards fought four-on-one. That if they were really men, they would pick one to beat me up. And while they squabbled over who would get the honor, I got away. Lily, I don't know if I truly owe you a life debt, but it's close. Believe me when I say I would die to keep you safe. And if not you, your son."

James's militant stance softened. "Sorry, Snape. Old habits die hard. Let's see what you've got."

"You're not going to like it," Severus whispered, and extended the book, open to the correct page, for their perusal.

He was right. They didn't like it, not at first. It was a spell designed to keep a ruler alive during times of war. Two who shared ties of blood with the ruler would die immediately, and the sealing of the spell upon the recipient would ensure safety. In general, the protection would last for seven years, but the force of the spell could be maintained longer if a third person would lend their life force. The third person would die at the end of an additional nine years, and the protection would end for good.

"When I joined the Order of the Phoenix, I pledged my life for the safety of wizarding Britain," said James staunchly. Severus had never liked the man, but suddenly he was overcome with a rush of emotion. Two lives, freely given…

"I made the same pledge," added Lily. "And from the moment Harry was born, I knew I would die for him."

"And I will be the third," said Severus. "Which will bring him to his coming-of-age."

James Potter reached out his hand and Severus clasped it. The two former adversaries looked at each other, fighting back the tears.

"I misjudged you, Snape," whispered James. "I'm sorry."

"It's okay," Severus responded. "I know I was a jerk."

They laughed uneasily.

"No, Severus," said Dumbledore calmly. "I'm sorry, but it can't be you. There is a different role for you to play."

"Albus!" shouted Severus angrily. "It has to be! Who else could be lost but not mourned?"

A tear trickled from the headmaster's eye. "I'm sorry that you feel you will not be mourned. Severus, I've done some Seeing, and it really can't be you. There are two bindings on you that will keep you from dying at the right time."

"TWO?"

"First, the Dark Mark. You cannot directly do anything to fight against Voldemort."

"Damn," Severus groaned. "You're right."

"The second binding I do not understand. It's a force I haven't seen before. One that binds you to living until Voldemort is destroyed. Whoever chooses to be the third must die before Harry faces Voldemort."

The wish. The wish he'd made with Aziz. Damn that wish. It wasn't the most recent wish he'd made, but rather the one that he'd made a few years ago, after becoming a Death Eater.

"You said I had a different role to play."

"We still need a Sealer. The Sealer must be present when the first two die. That will be hard, because it means that the Sealer must be present when Voldemort is."

"No. God, no."

"The Sealer must also be present when the third dies."

"Who will be the third, then?"

"When the time comes, you will know."

James stepped forward. "Stuck in my house, with nothing better to do, I've been doing some Seeing of my own. I know you don't believe in Divination; I barely believe it myself. But I saw my son, growing to adulthood. Will you watch over him for me, Snape?"

Severus nodded. "I'll try. But you know, we all will. All of us in the Order."

James continued, "Like his dad, he also marries a redhead. Will you keep her safe as well?" Severus probed James's mind and found an image: red hair, freckles, mischievous brown eyes.

"I will."

James smirked at Snape. "I won't ask for an Unbreakable Vow. It would die with me, for one thing."

Severus reached into a pocket of his robes and brought out a pocketknife. He flicked it open and used it to nick his index finger. "On my blood I swear."

James took the pocketknife from Severus and nicked his ring finger. "My blood, and the blood of my family."

They pressed the wounds together and the shock of binding shuddered through them.

"Merlin," gasped James. "We should have reconciled a long time ago. That's real power, there." He paused, then continued: "And Lily was right. Four-on-one or three-on-one makes no difference. I was a coward. Will you forgive me?"

Severus raised his bloody finger. "What do you think this is, idiot?"