Chapter 3: Secrets and Plans

August 3, 1995

Severus Snape

Recovery himself took several potions, a few healing spells, a five-hour nap, and a half bottle of firewhisky, but in the end, Snape was back at his little potion station in Spinner's End. He worked with a renewed vigour, knowing that a second bout of the Dark Lord's disapproval would leave him greatly weakened, and thus he nearly didn't hear the hiss of fireplace signalling an entry via floo.

Dumbledore was the only one besides himself to whom his fireplace was keyed to, so Snape was not surprised when he turned to find the old wizard clawing his way out of the cramped little fireplace, muttering some kind of genteel curse word as he banged his head on the mantelpiece.

"You could always Apparate here, since you hate that fireplace so much." Snape crossed his arms and glanced over at his Headmaster, a thin smirk quirking at the corner of his lips.

Dumbledore cheerfully brushed ash off his violently bright purple robes. "Thank you for your concern, Severus, but I think extracting myself from an uncomfortable fireplace is less strenuous than walking beyond Hogwart's Apparate point."

"You are a lazy old man, Headmaster."

"Of course I am. And at a hundred and thirteen, I think I have the right to be."

Snape turned back to his potions station with a sigh. Ordinarily, he would have enjoyed a good round of verbal sport with the Headmaster, but he was still exhausted from the night before… and had so much work to get done. "Why are you here, Headmaster?"

"I wanted to see how you were, Severus."

Snape rolled his eyes at Dumbledore's obvious lie. Dumbledore's attitude toward Snape's well-being could be summed up rather succinctly by the Muggle proverb 'out of sight, out of mind'. He would feel genuine concern for his soldiers when they were in his presence, but upon their departure, he returned to thinking of them as automatons.

"Very convincing, Headmaster. But as you very well see, I am fine. Now what is the real reason?"

"He knows about your Patronus." Albus said simply.

"Yes."

"Now, I can imagine your own personal feelings on this subject, but what is more important is the fact that Harry is not just an ordinary boy. This could be very dangerous… for you and for your position as a spy. If Voldemort-" upon seeing Snape wince, Dumbledore hesitated… "I'm afraid I won't refrain from calling him that, even to spare you pain, my boy…"

Snape gestured rudely for him to continue.

"Very well, if a certain dark wizard of our acquaintance manages to penetrate Harry's mind and learns about your Patronus we could be a serious disadvantage."

"Yes, and I could be dead." Snape said mockingly, grinding a handful black beetle eyes to powder.

"That would bring me no pleasure, Severus."

"Yes, it would seem a rather pointless, strategically useless occurrence, wouldn't it?" was the caustic reply.

"You know I care for you, Severus."

"I know." Snape looked at the old man without any bitterness. Yes, Dumbledore seemed to be the only person alive who cared for him. But ultimately, Snape was still a chess piece on Dumbledore's battle against the Dark Lord. "Yes, I know, Headmaster. But that will not stop you sacrificing me should the need arise."

Dumbledore sighed. "You don't even resent that, do you, Severus? You place so very little value on your life?"

"In that respect, I am no different to anyone else." Snape said silkily, stirring his cauldron when slow, calculated strides. "As to the boy… I do not know how strong the connection is… my studies have born little fruit. If, as you believe, the Dark Lord truly has a doorway into Potter's mind, as the boy does to his, then his learning Occlumency would seem a wise course of action. However…"

"Severus?"

"Occlumenists are rare… it is an art that few can truly master, and the Dark Lord is history's greatest Legilimens. You know this. The boy…. Potter is too open, too emotional… there is a reason Gryffindors have always made poor Occlumens."

"I am a Gryffindor, my boy."

Snape looked sneeringly at him. "We both know you have as much Slytherin in you as myself. Despite your prejudice against my house, you are more ambitious and cunning then the best of my snakes. The boy, however, has no such gifts. If you wish him to learn, I would suggest you commence his training at once."

Dumbledore slowly shook his head, his silver beard glinting in the light of the cauldron's soft underglow. "No, Severus, I will not teach him. You know I am going to distance myself from him this year. He cannot be allowed to be near me. If Voldemort- my apologies, once more, Severus… if he discovers the connection, he could use Harry to try and kill me. Apart from that being disastrous for the Order, it would destroy Harry, even to attempt it. And he would never learn of the prophesy."

Snape winced at the memories that the prophesy's mention stirred.

"I…" he struggled to collect himself. "I don't know what you intend to do then, if you will not teach him."

Dumbledore turned his laser blue eyes on him. "Come now, my dear Severus, you are an intelligent man… I obviously intend you to teach him."

Horror-stricken, Snape stared back at the Headmaster. "Have you finally cracked, old man? Do you want us to rip each other apart?"

"Considering that at the mere age of twenty you were able to hide your true intentions from our mutual acquaintance for over a year, and that you continue prove yourself just as adapt now… Voldemort- as you said, is history's greatest Legilimens… so I am beginning to believe that you are history's greatest Occlumens. You are eminently qualified to teach the boy"

"Flattering me is a futile pursuit. Potter and I hate each other. This art cannot be mastered without some measure of trust between student and teacher. In any case, I was self-taught, and already had natural abilities. Occlumency can only be taught by applying oneself against invasion… he does not have the mental concentration to develop his own defences. Perhaps with a student like Draco Malfoy I could do it, but Potter? I would not know where to begin. I cannot do this, Headmaster."

"This is not a request, Severus, but an order." Dumbledore's blue eyes had lost their twinkle.

"You forget another other thing… if this connection allows the Dark Lord to see me teaching him Occlumency, you will have deprived yourself of a spy. We obviously cannot tell him of Potter's training."

"We will just have to hope the Dark Lord does not find out." Was the grave response.

Snape gazed into his cauldron, swallowing back his anger. "If the need arises… I will teach him." He sharply turned towards Dumbledore. "But Headmaster. This will not work. And when it fails miserably, allow me to say, 'I told you so.'"

Dumbledore got up. "Well then… I will see you in a weeks' time at the next Order meeting. And, one more thing…"

"Headmaster?"

"The boy knows."

"I recall you saying that a short time ago." Snape quipped irritably, although he understood Dumbledore's meaning.

"I know you, Severus, better than anyone else. You may act reserved, taciturn, sarcastic, but I know you are panicking under that moody mask of yours."

"Hardly panicking." Snape said curtly, turning his attention to his potion to stay his roiling mind. "But… I… don't know what I will do should he learn the truth. It would be hard to bear."

"Especially considering how you have treated him over the years." Dumbledore commented mildly.

"I may have started it, but it's hardly been a one-way war." Snape muttered, ignoring the prick of guilt that nestled itself against his chest. "I cannot imagine he will stay silent about it. His word to me is nothing. Who abides by promises made to ones' enemy?"

"Considering you just saved his life when he made the promise, I think you should credit him with more integrity."

"I have no reason to believe the boy… he is an accomplished liar, like his father. He will not respect me enough to keep silent."

"He will honour his promises, even to you… however, I believe he may tell his two friends…"

"Of course, the Golden Trio. Always joined at the hip, the exception to the rules. Dumbledore's Golden Gryffindors, just like the Marauders." Snape scoffed angrily.

"Severus, when will you put aside your school-boy grudge?"

Snape's eyes snapped shut. Dumbledore could not understand. It was never a school-boy grudge… it cut so much deeper than that. He hated those words 'school-boy grudge'… he remembered Remus using them in the Shrieking Shack, remembered the younger Potter calling him 'pathetic'. No one cared to think about what those days really were to him, when he was bullied, relentlessly… because he existed. He'd decided when he started teaching to give people a real reason to hate his existence, but back then… what had he ever done to deserve their treatment? Enough self-pity.

"Is our business concluded, Headmaster?" Snape opened his eyes and stared coldly at the old man, the unspoken words 'Get out' hanging clearly in the air.

"Yes, Severus. Enjoy your evening." And with a sigh, Dumbledore trundled himself back into Snape's little fireplace, leaving Snape alone with his potions, his memories, and his bitterness.

Events prior to this mostly follows canon storyline of Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix Ch. 3-4a, the exception being that since Harry didn't use underage magic, the Ministry don't try to expel him and there is no hearing. The note he writes to Sirius, Ron and Hermione in Ch. 3 now reads so:

'I've just been attacked by dementors and had to be saved by Snape (he has a Patronus!) He told me not to leave the house until I'm contacted, so I want to know what's going on and when I'm going to get out of here.'

This AU begins at about Canon Ch. 4, pg 68. due to Snape's actions at Privet Drive, the conversation changes a little. If you want to read the book for context, just snip out the bits about Harry having to cast the Patronus. It begins after Harry reunited with his friends at Grimmauld Place and bit their heads off for not writing to him.

Some of the conversation in the following segment is taken from Ch. 4 of The Order of the Phoenix.

August 6, 1995

Harry Potter

Harry paced the room, avoiding looking at his friends. While he felt ashamed for having just screamed at them like a petulant child, he couldn't shake the burning anger he felt towards them for shutting him out over the summer. He knew technically, of course, that it wasn't their fault… after all, no one ever disobeys Dumbledore, but he couldn't help feeling angry towards them all the same. It had been a horrible few months, locked away from the wizarding world, having to deal with the Dursley's' vitriol… and plagued by the remembrance of Cedric's death. And now that he was back in his own world, the world that Voldemort had returned to, now that he found he had to be on the outskirts of this Order of the Phoenix despite actually being in the very centre of the fight thanks to Voldemort… Harry was so angry and confused he barely knew what to say to his friends. Staring at the dusty floor with clenched fists, he finally spoke.

"So, what have you two been doing, if you're not allowed in meetings? You said you'd been busy."

"We have." Hermione said quickly, biting her lip. "We've been decontaminating this house, it's been empty for ages and stuff's been breeding in here. We've managed to clean out the kitchen, most of the bedrooms, and I think we're doing the drawing room tomo- AARGH!"

Unceremoniously, Fred and George had materialised in the middle of the room, accompanied by two ear-splitting cracks.

Hermione looked as started as Pigwidgeon, groggily begging the twins to stop doing that. Harry got the feeling that uncalled-for apparitions had been a constant game for the twins over the summer.

"Hello, Harry." Said George brightly. "We thought you heard your dulcet tones."

"You shouldn't bottle up your anger like that, Harry, let it all out. There might have been a couple of people fifty miles away that didn't hear you." Teased Fred, who was holding a strange object that looked like string flesh.

Harry flushed a little, realising that probably the whole house had been privy to his outburst. "So you two passed your Apparition tests, then?" he morosely asked, trying to steer the conversation away from his tantrum.

"With distinction." Boasted Fred proudly.

"It would have taken you about thirty seconds longer to walk down the stairs." Ron pointed out grouchily, obviously having become quite bored with the twins' constant Apparition surprises.

"Time is Galleons, little brother. Anyway, Harry, you're interfering with reception." Fred quipped.

Harry raised his eyebrows in a questioning expression.

"Extendable Ears." Fred explained, holding up the string, which Harry now realised was trailing out all the way onto the landing. "We're trying to find out what's going on downstairs."

"You want to be careful." Ron warned. "If Mum sees one of them again…"

"It's worth the risk, that's a major meeting they're having." Fred said breezily.

A moment later the door swung open, and Ginny Weasley, the youngest of the red-headed clan, walked in. "Oh, hello Harry." She chirped, as annoyingly cheerful as everyone else in the whole damn house. "I thought I heard your voice."

'Of course you did.' Harry thought sourly. 'Probably even the bloody Hogwarts owlery heard me shouting like a madman.'

She turned to her twin brother and informed them that their Extendable Ears were useless, due to their mother putting up an Imperturbable charm over the door.

"How'd you find out?" Harry could literally visualize George's drooping ears as he asked her.

"Tonks told me how to find out." Said Ginny. "You just chuck stuff at the door and if it can't make contact, the door's been Imperturbed. I've been flicking Dungbombs at it from the top of the stairs and they just soar away from it, so there's no way the Extendable Ears will be able to get under the gap."

Fred huffed a sigh. "Shame. I really fancied finding out what old Snape's been up to."

"Snape's here?" Harry was instantly interested. He'd been wondering all year exactly where his snarky Potions teacher fit into the fight against Voldemort, and the Patronus incident five days ago had just heighted his interested in Snape's activities.

"Yeah." George closed the door and sat down on one of the beds. "Giving a report. Top secret."

"Git." Fred said, as if by reflex.

"He saved Harry's life." Hermione said reprovingly.

Ron snorted. "Doesn't stop him from being a git."

He turned to Harry. "But, how'd that play out, anyway? You said that Snape chased the dementors away with a Patronus… what form was it? He didn't say."

"Oh…" Harry bit his lip. "I can't tell you."

"What?" Ron bristled.

"I mean, Snape made me swear not to, he said it would be dangerous to his role as a spy."

Hermione's nose crinkled in puzzlement. "That doesn't make any sense, Harry. It would be dangerous if Voldemort found out Snape could produce a Patronus at all. What's so special about the form?"

Fred snorted. "I bet nothing. It's probably just really embarrassing, right Harry?"

'Probably.' Harry thought. "Well… if I tell you guys, will you swear not to tell anyone else… or that I told you?"

"Harry, no." Hermione said reprovingly. "You promised him."

"Aw, c'mon, 'Mione, don't you want to find out Snape's big silver secret?" Ron poked her playfully.

"Yeh, Hermione, don't be such a granny. C'mon, Harry, spill." Fred leaned towards Harry eagerly.

"But… I promised Snape." Harry said hesitantly.

"And that's worth how much? He's Snape. He promised Dumbledore not to tell anyone about Lupin, and did he keep his promise?" Ron said.

"You… make a good point, Ron." Harry smirked, feeling a sense of righteous indignation. This would get Snape back for getting Lupin sacked. "Allright, his form is-"

"Wait, Harry!" Hermione squeaked. "If you're going to tell us, it may be important… we have to solemnly swear to tell no one. Perhaps make it magically binding."

"What, you want us to take an Unbreakable Vow for old Snapey?" Fred chuckled.

"No…" a sly smile played around the corner of Hermione's mouth. "Something else."

She went over to a dresser, grabbed a piece of parchment, and withdrew her wand.

"Wait!" Harry grabbed her sleeve. "You can't use magic here, you're underage."

"Oh, I worked it out a few days ago." Hermione brushed him off. "Don't you remember when Sirius told us about Snape knowing lots jinxes and curses when he arrived at Hogwarts? You can't know all that without having practised at home. His family were obviously magical, I mean, he's a Slytherin, so their magic use must have masked his."

"What?" Ron's eyes bulged. "You mean I could have been using magic years ago? Mum always said the Ministry would expel me. Are you saying they wouldn't be able to track me?"

"Well, there is a reason why underage wizards shouldn't use magic, especially when you are really little like Snape was. It can be dangerous, so your Mum was protecting you. Of course, the rule is ridiculous once you are at Hogwarts, but I suppose the Ministry don't trust kids to be careful."

"That's fantastic." Harry gulped with excitement. He could practice magic during the summer.

"Sorry to burst your bubble, Harry, but it won't work for you. When you are inside a house of other magic users, they don't track wands, only magic use. But you and me have don't magical pare- uh, guardians. If we used magic in our homes, the Ministry would know it was us. Here, though..."

She grinned.

"And Fred and George knew this too… or have you never wondered how that teddy bear turned into a spider, Ron?"

Ron's ears flushed red while the twins laughed. "You caught us out, Hermione." Fred congratulated her. "Though using the example of little Snape is an odd way to figure the system."

"Hmm. Speaking of." Hermione passed her wand over the paper, muttering a few words. "All right." She shoved the paper towards Ron. "All write your names, then Harry can tell the secret. I've set it up so if anyone tells anyone Snape's Patronus form or tells anyone that Harry told them, they'll get badly jinxed… it will take months to remove. Harry is the exception, of course."

"Of course." Muttered Ron.

Ginny, Hermione and the twins all followed suit, and then turned expectantly towards Harry.

"All right, so much fuss for a little bit of gossip. What is it, Harry?" Ginny asked.

"His Patronus form is…" Harry lowered his voice, shoving aside the guilty pang he felt. "It's a … a doe."

Ron and the twins immediately squawked with laughter. "You're kidding." Gasped Ron between guffaws.

"No, it really is."

Ginny and Hermione, though surprised, looked at each other quietly.

"Harry, that tells us quite a lot about Snape, you know." Hermione bit her lip, looking very guilty. "That's actually really personal information. It's no wonder he didn't want you to know. Oh… this was a horrible idea."

"What do you mean?" Harry looked eagerly over at her.

"I… well, obviously Snape isn't a female, but having a female Patronus can only mean that it isn't his Patronus, but the Patronus of someone he was close to."

"You mean how I have my Dad's Patronus?"

"Yes. I've read a lot about it-"

"Of course." Ron mocked her, but she ploughed on regardless.

"-and having someone else's' Patronus signifies an unending affection and sometimes love. It is also often combined with loss… like continuing the Patronus line out of love."

"Snape, affection? Love?" Fred looked horrified.

"He is a human, you know." Hermione said testily.

"And here I was thinking he was a vampire…" Ron mocked.

Hermione huffed, and turned back to Harry. "Whoever the original owner of the deer Patronus was, it's not Snape. A reflection of yourself is gendered to match. I wonder who she was?"

Harry sat down heavily. "I don't know… he looked kinda nervous afterwards, actually… I thought it was about the dementors, but it may have been that I saw his Patronus."

"Well, who'd think old Snapey had secrets?" grinned Fred. "Maybe the lady Patronus is some long-lost love of his?"

This drew a loud laugh from the group… but Harry noticed Hermione still looked strangely contemplative…

"What, Hermione? Harry asked.

"Harry. Remember the story of Illyius and Raczidian… only the pure of heart can cast a Patronus."

August 6, 1995

Severus Snape

The next Order had been set after the retrieval of the Potter boy… Snape fervently hoped he wouldn't have to run into the boy. When he arrived at the ugly, peeling door of Grimmauld Place and was greeting by a smiling Molly, he was surprised to find that this time, her smile was somewhat warmer and more genuine.

'How curious…'

And indeed, upon entering the meeting room, the gazes were not as hostile as usual. Most were still filled with dislike or mockery, but Lupin afforded him a gentle smile, and Arthur drew up a chair for him with an affable gesture. Moody and Sirius remained much the same… but there was certainly a mellowing of sentiment towards him.

'Perhaps they are in a good mood after the honour of being in Potter's sacred presence, or it could have been my actions a few days ago that finally convinced a few of them to partially trust me…' He mused, feeling faintly hopeful as he took his seat.

"Late again, Snape?" grunted Moody.

"Well it's hardly my fault that the Order and the Dark Lord seem to have similar ideas for suitable meeting times, is it?" Snape returned coldly.

"Tea, Severus?" Molly asked.

Snape blinked. She'd never asked him that before.

"I beg your pardon?" he asked, not bothering to squelch the strain of suspicion that permeated his tone.

"Tea, Snivilly. You drink it." Sirius mocked.

"I know that." Snape gritted his teeth. "I…" 'What harm would come from saying yes?' "Fine." He said ungraciously.

Molly, unperturbed, poured him a cup, and passed it over to him.

'Something strange is happening...'

He sniffed the cup. No veritaserum … no sleeping draughts… pure hospitality was it, then? Just as dangerous as either potion, in fact.

"Constant vigilance, eh, Snivelly?" Sirius jibed.

"Something you won't need to be concerned with for a long time, eh Black?" Snape snarled back. "Sooo comforting for you, isn't it? To be tucked away snug down here while everyone else is in constant danger."

"Are you calling me a coward, you snaky, two-faced, Death Ea-" Sirius began, blustering angrily, but, to Snape's astonishment, Remus touched his friend's sleeve in what appeared to be a warning gesture, and Sirius fell silent.

Dumbledore, who had been deep in conversation with Shacklebolt, now turned to Snape, and with that benevolent smile of his, asked Snape for his report.

Snape suppressed a heavy sigh. "What I have to report will not be welcome news… the Dark Lord is interested in an object in the Department of Mysteries. A certain… prophesy." He shot a meaningful look at Dumbledore, who seemed to pale slightly. "He's looking for a way to get in…"

"We shall have to set guards, then... those with a Ministry position." Dumbledore decided immediately. "It is imperative that this prophesy does not fall into his hands. There it could be a terrible weapon…"

"Dumbledore?" Shacklebolt inquired. "What is this prophesy?"

The Headmaster hesitated. "I'm afraid it would not be wise to tell you, or anyone. If Voldemort should capture you…"

"He seems to know something of the matter." Moody grunted through his shredded nose, shrugging his shoulder in Snape's direction.

"Yes, Alastair, he does know something, more than any of you, but still not everything."

Snape was relieved Dumbledore didn't say 'He knows as much as Voldemort does.' That would utterly destroy whatever this strange, uncertain truce was.

The Order members who had retrieved Potter were excitedly giving their report. They had styled themselves as the 'Advance Guard', at which point Snape snorted conspicuously- who did they think Potter was, royalty? Sirius had been as antsy as Neville Longbottom over a hissing cauldron, and Mundungus, stinking of tobacco and firewhisky, had nodded off into heavy snores.

This time, most of the Order were not planning on staying for dinner… Dumbledore was leaving by Floo so Potter wouldn't see him, and Snape knew he, himself, obviously wouldn't be staying. He had never been invited, and if he ever had been, he doubted he'd ever allow himself to eat under Sirius Black's roof… still… he would have liked the option. 'Don't push it.' He snarled to himself. 'A smile and a cup of tea isn't going to change things. When do things ever change?'

In the narrow hall that led to the front door, the Order wizards pressed close against him, all eager to get home to their own evening meals. Diggle brushed his sleeve, Podmore dug his elbows into his side… Snape gritted his teeth. They weren't doing it intentionally… their excitement over Voldemort's new focus had made them careless… but he hated being touched. At Hogwarts, students would scatter, pressing close to the walls to avoid even glancing him with their robes. But here, no one afforded him that respect. If he were a slave to his impulses, at this point Snape might have withdrawn his wand and blasted them all out of his way… but he was a spy. He was always in control.

Control.

Yet the memories welled up once more.

No! Control…

He was being buffeting on all sides, curses slammed pain into his body, but it was the physical touches, the blows, the scraping that he loathed the most. They acted like a pack of wild animals, without dignity or self-respect. They salivated with a bloodlust that had gone unsated for fourteen years... and since tormenting Muggles was currently too obstrusive, they would have to settle for an old... colleage of theirs. Snape stumbled, trying to regain his balance, but was pushed into yet another Death Eaters gleeful grip, then… slammed down into the dirt, face shoved down, forehead pressed into the moist ground. And the Dark Lord knelt at his side, gripping his chin with his newly born, bloodless fingers, scraping the skin off his cheeks with those curiously long, sharp nails…

Control.

It had happened a few months ago, that night he returned to the Dark Lord to resume his spying mission. He'd come a day after the dark wizard's return, waiting for Dumbledore to give the order… he'd told his second master that he did it to secure Dumbledore's trust, but the Dark Lord did not listen until his Death Eaters had visited on him the full force of their viciousness. Oh, the Dark Lord had eventually accepted his excuse, and even praised him for his forethought when Snape lay on the ground groaning, blood trickling from his mouth. "Ssseverus, I always knew you were a smart one. Waiting to secure Dumbledore's trust… just what I expected from my most loyal of servants. But next time… you answer my orders firsssst."

It wasn't that experience that made him hate being touched… no, that reached back into his childhood. But every new trauma just brought the fear back…

Control… This is pitiful weakness. It had been over a decade since he had been so used. Time would accustom him to it once more.

He reached the door, just about to exit, when he half turned, feeling the heat of another's eyes in his back.

There. Perched up on a staircase, leaning over the bannister, eyes fixed firmly on him. Potter.

Snape turned away. What did it matter if Potter found him an interesting specimen for observation? Yet he could not quell the uneasy niggling that tugged at the base of his stomach. What if Potter found out about the doe Patronus? Any intelligent person would instantly recognise the Patronus as a memorial-Patronus. Snape prayed that Potter had inherited none of his mother's intelligence… 'But there is nothing I can do about his inheriting his father's nosiness.' He reminded himself dismally. Damn Potter.