Chapter 18: Back to Reality

Chapter 18

Back to Reality

Sage's finally came back into the reality of the common room. His eyes left the flickering flames of the fireplace that had entranced him and brought him back into memories of the past. It seemed like not long ago he first met his uncle, and he had come so far.

He had learned a good ten years worth of magic in five or six years and he was not supposed to be using his wand anymore. It still seemed as if he had so far to go to get where he needed to be. His body was still so vulnerable.

On some days when he worked really hard on the practical things and actually did a lot of magic, his body screamed out at him by the end of the day. While he might be coming closer to being able to control what was in him, he felt so far away. He knew that he would eventually need to control the visions and also to manage to not be afflicted by the pain of them, but that did not seem to be happening.

It also seemed that there was very little help anyone could give him to figure out how to get to that point. He felt stuck behind a huge barrier that not even he knew how to get over. There were many times when his uncle had told him that he would need to figure some things out for himself, because magical powers are so different in each person and he was an especially singular case. They could teach him how to use the powers and focus them, but not to harness them, control them fully, or overcome them.

It was a force that was alive within him, that did not seem to be wholly a part of him yet. Each day he felt closer, but every night he felt like he was no better, no different as the pain distracted him from sleep.

It was three in the morning. He walked back up to his room, up to his dresser, and picked up one of the bottles. Sage really needed a night of dreamless sleep. He took a sip from the bottle and passed out on top of his bed. He never really felt secure with his powers, never really felt safe from what was tormenting him, and never really felt like he was strong enough to handle it all. In sleep he did not need to think about it, and in the morning he would try harder to understand it all.

Sage was in the crowds watching the first quidditch match of the season, Hufflepuff against Gryffindor. He was inches off his seat as Harry and Diggory careened towards the golden snitch. Then he felt it, like a sharp blow to the stomach and a wave of icy coldness. There was a loud screeching somewhere in the recesses of his brain, woman screaming, his mother. He heard his father say something about his family and being safe. Then he heard that voice no more. There was a strange laugh, a laugh that was only familiar to him because of his visions. His heart pounded in his chest as his surroundings completely left his consciousness. All he heard was the voice of the man that had killed his father and taken everything away from him, Voldemort.

"Where is the child?"

"No, don't you touch him! He's just a baby. Please!"

Then it seemed as if time zipped forward and he heard more.

"What are you doing to him? Don't hurt him? He's a Snape, my lord. I told you he's a Magi, how could you kill him? He, he could help you." His mother's voice had faltered in a way that made it obvious to him that she was lying, after all that had always been her worst fear. That her son would be used for evil.

"I would have killed him already, I am not going to kill him, woman." The voice hissed. He heard himself scream and wail as only a two year old could.

"You're scaring him. He's not safe like that."

"Scaring him! Ha, I'll show you scaring him. Do you think I am foolish enough to believe that a 2 year old is a Magi? If he needs to be frightened to show the trait then frightened he shall be"! The voice had barely held the curse for two seconds before it happened, Sage knew that he had shown the sign Voldemort wanted, his eyes had taken on an ethereal look and he had unknowingly burned the Dark Lord's hands. He had seen it in a vision. But the barely human man laughed, he was pleased. Sage could see in his mind what had played out in his visions many, many times before. He saw the man in black take him up in his arms again.

"Nooooooooo!" His mother shrieked in absolute horror and fury.

But her cries did no good. There would be no stopping Voldemort that night. The voices faded as his sight went more black. His head was swimming and the last thing he could make out before he passed out was that hundreds of dementors storming the quidditch field.

When he woke up, he felt as if he had just been spun around one hundred times while he was drunk. He couldn't see too well and his body felt nearly disconnected from his mind. The only thing he could make out right away was the presence of his uncle looming over him, arms crossed. Afterall, that had to be what the big black blob was next to him, he had been in similar situations to this, and it was a very educated guess.

"S'everthin okay?" he asked. When he heard his own words, he was quite surprised at how out of it he sounded.

"You'll be fine."

His head floated. "Nodme." He said, again jumping at his own incoherence.

"Oh just stop talking, you sound like a blithering idiot! Wait until you come out of it. And, yes, everything else and everyone else is fine."

Belatedly, his head throbbed at the way his uncle raised his voice in frustration.

"B'ack?"

Severus grinded his teeth and growled, "Black? No, he's still wandering around."

Sage was beginning to feel better. He could make out Snape's perturbed look and see the anger flaring through his eyes. When he looked around him, he could make out a crowd of people in Gryffindor colors across the room a bit. They were huddled nervously around something.

"Potter?"

"Yes, perfect Potter. Lost the snitch this time. He'll live, his pride may not."

The boy didn't answer him however. He did not really want his uncle to know that he was concerned too much about Harry. Though his uncle definitely did not hate Harry, he did hate the side of Harry that was like James. Unfortunately, quidditch Harry reminded his uncle too much of the elder Potter. Sage thought Harry was all right, incredibly childish and sometimes annoying, but all right none the less. Most of the students at Hogwarts fit the childish and annoying category to him, maybe that's because he never had a chance to be childish or annoying. His head hurt, he stopped thinking so much.

Professor Snape put his hand on his shoulder and said, "Can you walk? It was not my choice to bring you here. I believe it was Granger's and Weasley's. Good thing I got here before Poppy decided to do anything with you."

Sage stared at him sleepily, blinked twice, and said, "I think so, sir."

"Well then get up and let's go. I'll get you something to eat and some tea and you'll be fine. She'd want to keep you here all day."

His uncle already had the fire going in his living room by the time they arrived, and Sage had no delusions that it was purely for his own benefit. His uncle did not like to have a pipeline to the entire school, but he had to keep his fire going slightly more often in case someone needed to get him quickly when Sage had a vision. Severus still didn't like having his privacy invaded.

Sage flopped down onto the couch cross-legged, a habit of his that had carried over from his younger years, and stared into the fire. He was tired, and cold, and incapable of any sort of complex thought. His mind began to replay the screams before Severus interrupted him by throwing a huge chocolate bar at him. It hit him in the side of the head.

"Eat that," he ordered.

"Ugh, you know I don't care for chocolate, uncle, especially not this much. I'll be sick!"

Severus crossed his arms and then sneered at him, "You are already sick. Besides I didn't give it to you for enjoyment, dear nephew, I gave it to you because it's a quick cure for dementor sickness. Just EAT it."

Sage's eyes opened as wide as they could given they they were trying to fight him into letting them shut. "Chocolate," he said dejectedly.

His uncle decided it was time to stalk over to him and repeat the sneer he had just given. "Did you not hear what I just said!"

Sage scowled, "Yes sir, I heard you." He unwrapped the bar and stared at it in vile disgust. He watched as Severus walked away mumbling, "You would think it was as foul as Polyjuice or Wolfsbane Potion."

Sage screwed up his face at the bar of chocolate which was easily almost as big as his head and tentatively took a bite. It wasn't that he minded chocolate inside of things or even chocolate cake, he just did not like the taste of plain chocolate. Its richness made him nauseated. He put the bar down, glanced back to make sure his uncle wasn't still hawking him, and conjured a big goblet. He picked up the chocolate bar and held it over the goblet. Just as he wanted, the chocolate began to melt and drip into the cup. The look on his face was priceless, like he had just seen a dead and decaying mountain troll.

"What the hell are you doing?" Came suddenly from behind him as the professor brought over a teapot.

Sage looked at him sheepishly as the final drop of chocolate melted. "I'm melting it so that I can just chug it. That way I don't have to taste as much of it. I'm still ingesting it, uncle."

The older man growled and said, "I don't care how you take it in as long as you take it now."

The boy picked up the goblet which was now full of chocolate sauce and eyed him. He pinched his nose as if he as drinking the most vile thing imaginable and gulped it down as fast as he could.

A strange feeling overcame him. His thoughts were clearer, he was warmer, and his head wasn't swimming anymore, but it was replaced by a very angry stomach.

"I'm gonna be sick!" He exclaimed putting his hand over his mouth.

Before he had a chance to run to the bathroom his uncle yelled, "You had damn well better not!" He pushed Sage's shoulder down and forced Sage to sit back down. He thrust a sandwich in front of Sage. "Eat that, hopefully it'll drown out the chocolate."

Sage took the sandwich tentatively and holding his stomach took a few bites. By the time he was halfway done, he definitely felt better.

Severus ran his hand through his hair. "I get stuck with the only fifteen year old in this plane of existence that doesn't like chocolate." Then he added to himself Sometimes I am surprised at the patience I am able to muster in order to deal this! Merlin how I wanted to just shove it down his throat! Finally, he sat down on the lounge chair next to the sofa and ate in silence.

"Sir, the dementors suck the happiness out of you right?" Sage asked him between mouthfuls, breaking the silence.

"Yes, what of it?"

The boy swallowed again and took a deep breath, "Well when they came, I started to feel sick, and then my head felt really light and I started to hear things."

"What things," Severus asked him suspiciously.

"I could hear my mom screech, and I heard, I heard my dad, and Voldemort. The night that he died. I heard everything like I was there." Sage said, his voice surprisingly resilient given what he was talking about.

"You were there."

Sage stared at him curiously, "But I don't remember any of that, sir, I only remember what I have seen in my visions. I was only two."

"Yes, but you were still there. Your mind still has that information. When the dementors come, we often relive our most horrible experiences. The more horrid, the worse the reaction to the dementors." Snape answered matter-of-factly.

"So, because I have been through so many, er, devastating things, the dementors affect me more than most?"

"Yes, you have a very trying past."

"But, how did you, how did you deal with that, uncle? How could you…live?" Sage's voice wavered this time with apprehension, fear, and concern.

Snape narrowed his eyes at the boy and gritted his teeth together. "That is not something I care to discuss."

Normally Sage would not have countered this obvious 'end of story' statement by Severus, but for some reason he did.

"But you were there, sir, you, you." He stuttered.

"Enough," Snape growled cutting him off.

His blue eyes looked down. There were a lot of things he was never told. "Uncle, how come you never tell me anything about yourself? Why do you not tell me these things?" What he said was very brave and he knew that his uncle's reaction would be severe.

"Why not! For your own damned good, why not! Because they are things you do not need to know, need to hear."

"I'm not a little boy anymore, sir."

"DO YOU WANT TO KNOW, SAGE, DO YOU?" He yelled standing up with aggravated fury and crossing his arms.

Sage pressed himself back against the couch, wide-eyed. He had gone this far why not finish it out. Show some Gryffindor courage. "Yes," he managed to answer, meekly.

"Because I killed people, Sage, lots of people. Innocent people and guilty people. People who had wives and children, people like your father. Even though I didn't like it, and I didn't want to. I had to. I didn't have a choice. I did it for Him. And I saw children, babies, who had horrible things done to them. Even the Cruciatus. I did things that allowed Him to gain power, and He loved me for it and I fell for it at first. It wasn't until he killed your father that I fully realized He didn't give a crap about me, didn't give a crap about the sanctity of life. I've done such horrible things in a few years of my life when I was a stupid, young, boy that I can barely dream to repair the damage I've done. And how did I deal with it, the dementors, Azkaban? HOW DO YOU THINK? I SAW EVERYTHING OVER AND OVER AGAIN. I was unconscious so much, I had no idea how much time had gone by. I could see the dead body of my own brother laying on the floor of our living room, EVERYDAY, FOR HOURS! I saw the bodies of the aurors who killed my father, who I killed in return, and I saw the faces of their children. I had visions of all the things my mind could conceive about what Voldemort did TO YOU! Because I didn't know what had happened, I didn't know until you told me. SO MY MIND INVENTED IT! IT WAS THE WORST THREE MONTHS OF MY LIFE! I WANTED TO DIE!

"Then I get out and SURPRISE I do not feel much better. I apparate instantaneously to Voldemort to begin my spying. Oh yes, a loyal Death Eater who had gone to Azkaban for him. I was praised and I wanted nothing more than to spit on Him. I had to go back to the thing that haunted my mind for MONTHS. I had to pretend to serve Him. As if Azkaban wasn't enough. But I did it anyway because it was right, no matter how hard it hurt, no matter how sick it made me, and I wanted to do it. I did it because I didn't want any more innocent people to die, I didn't want any more children to lose their fathers and mothers like you did. I didn't want anyone to ever feel what I had to feel when I came home to the Dark Mark over my own HOUSE."

He stopped yelling, his face was as colored as it could get. He stared at his nephew, who was speechless and pressed halfway into the couch, his mouth wide open.

"NOW IS THAT WHAT YOU WANTED TO KNOW? Do you know enough about me now? Or was that too much for you? I'm sure this has helped you feel closer to your dear uncle," he spat.

Sage cowered. He closed his mouth and then opened it. He took a deep breath in through his nose and said quietly. "I don't think you're a bad person, Uncle Severus, no matter what you did before. You turned back."

"How fucking noble of you. Too bad others don't feel the same." Snape was twitching he was so keyed up.

"Who cares, they aren't the people who matter. A lot more people would be dead if it weren't for you. Longbottom."

"A lot of good I did for his parents." He growled.

"You did what you could, sir, and a lot of Death Eaters got sent to Azkaban because of you."

The professor finally sat down on the chair again and huffed with anger. He crossed his arms across his chest and glared at Sage.

"I heard something today about when, when my father died that I never saw in my visions. He, er, Voldemort well, when he first picked me up, he, um, cursed me and I burned his hands and he knew that I was a Magi."

Now Snape looked up at him, his eyes wide with renewed fury, "He cursed you. What curse?"

Sage swallowed hard and answered softly, "The Cruciatus."

The older wizard didn't speak but he was seething with anger. His lips were pressed so tightly together that you could hardly see them and his head was shaking with hatred.

"As if the other wasn't enough," Severus finally said before closing his eyes.

Sage felt so badly. He wouldn't have asked the question if he had known it would upset his uncle this much and bring up so many bad emotions for the both of them. Next time he wouldn't question his uncle's silence. But he was strangely happy that he had because he felt that he needed to know. It made him feel safer, safer from Voldemort. Sage got up off the couch and sat on the table that was between the two chairs and the couch. This way he could say what he wanted to say face to face with his uncle.