The Mortal Coil

Warning: contains coarse language.

Within a few minutes Servius realised he'd lost Longbottom. It was almost impossible to cover ground without making a lot of noise, and so he'd deliberately gone slowly, absorbed with navigating by the snaps and cracks he heard of Longbottom's transit ahead of him. But these got fainter and it wasn't long before he couldn't hear any at all. When he looked behind him, there was a wall of trees and no way of identifying where he'd entered, and, it dawned on him, no means of finding his way back.

He squared his shoulders and took deep breaths. I am in control, he thought to himself, HBP his ever-present muse, swimming into consciousness. I am no coward. I don't run away.

An owl cried out somewhere above him and he jumped. "Lumos!" Shining his wand into the bare branches above him, he searched for source of the sound and then holding up his left hand, whistled quietly. Tāne flew down and landed on the wristband and Servius gave a sigh of relief. "You clever thing. Stay nearby, okay? You can help me find my way out. Now, where did Lamebottom go?"

He let Tāne fly into the forest ahead, and keeping his wand alight, Servius lay it across his flat left palm, the way he'd seen Amelie do it. "Go to Pinpoint!" he commanded, and his wand huzzed and then spun around, finally aligning in the same direction Tāne had flown. "Right. Off to the Centaurs apparently. You're too early for Praising, Lame-o, hope you've got your chain-mail on." And he set off in pursuit.

"Come in Severus," said McGonagall from her seat at The Desk where she was reading her mail. With a lift of her wand, she softened the music from her gramophone. "When did you get back?"

Snape crossed the floor and up the steps of the Head's Office to stand before her. She regarded him with a dubious smile that he was unsure how to interpret, but he kept the Wicce's words in front of mind.

"Back early this afternoon, Ma'am. I thought I'd report in; let you know I was available should you need me."

"And where have you been?" she asked, waving her hand across the orbuculum. "The orb lost you after The Leaky Cauldron."

Snape glanced at the mysterious instrument and replied, "I attended to personal affairs, Ma'am. I have been home."

"I thought you might have been to visit Servius' grandparents."

"To what end?"

"I must confess, I wondered if you'd gone to make arrangements for his return home."

Snape braced a little. "I would prefer him not to go, though I do appreciate it's his abiding wish."

"Why is it, Severus?" McGonagall asked instantly. "Why can't he settle here? Why does he resist us so?"

"It - it is largely on my account -,"

"Then are you not motivated to fix it? How can you stand by and watch him suffer?"

Snape lifted his chin. "I am not…standing by, Ma'am. It's extremely complicated."

"Have you still not told him about his mother?"

"He has discovered enough but I don't think he has forgiven me for it."

"Discovered? That word makes me uneasy…," she said, looking as she felt and then she pursed her lips and shook her head. "I've probed enough. I know you won't be drawn into anything against your will. And what of yourself? Did you reflect on the things we discussed?"

Snape grasped the lapels of his cloak. "I have. But they are not matters that can be rectified immediately. I ask that you trust in me that I am working towards a resolution on several fronts. But I will not let you down."

McGonagall's eyes hardened, but Dumbledore spoke. "Minerva, we both know how Severus works. I don't question that you're entitled to keep your Deputy in line, you made that part of my job simple. But many a time I simply had to put my faith in Severus and I can assure you, he won't disappoint."

"It's like I said," added Nigellus, "he plays the long game."

"This is not wartime, Albus!" McGonagall banged her hand down on the desk so that her – happily, empty - teacup rattled. "Why all the damn boys'-club secrecy?"

Snape looked from Dumbledore to McGonagall. This kind of temper from her was not unheard of, but it was uncommon. More so, however, since the illness had taken hold. "Please Minerva. Trust me. I'm on your side."

His use of her first name seemed to allay her. She searched his face, her cheeks flushed, and then she shook her head again resignedly. "Och. Fine. Dismissed."

Snape swirled his cloak and marched out without another word.

It was slow progress through the Forest, but there were small things that Servius recognised and on them he used the Assingo charm to leave a bright blue mark. Often enough, and following a true, straight line, it might be possible to follow them and find the way back. He came across the tree where he and Amelie had hidden amongst the roots, hiding from the troll, and on it he placed a mark, and then once again set the wand to pinpoint the way.

Then he heard a crack.

He stood stock-still and scanned around him, barely even moving his head, searching, peering into the shadows. It had been the sound of a twig snapping, broken by something heavy. Or…perhaps it was nothing more serious than a deer or a rabbit…they stood on twigs all the time, didn't they?

When he heard nothing further after a minute, he swallowed and re-lit his wand, then moved forward again. But his hearing was heightened, and he was aware of his heart thudding.

He'd travelled barely a few metres when once again, he heard a noise, not as sharp as a crack but what sounded to him like leaves rustling, twice: footsteps. His eyes widening, he grasped his wand and pointed it before him, all around, searching. "Wh-who's there?" he uttered; his mouth too dry to enunciate properly.

Then suddenly he was grabbed hard from behind and a hand was clamped over his mouth, pulling his head back sharply. Another hand struck his left forearm, knocking his wand to the ground, and then his arm was wrenched around behind his back. A blow behind his knees sent him stumbling to the ground in a spasm of pain, and a voice said "Incarcerate!" Before Servius could move, he had been bound by wrist and ankle with rope.

He twisted around to see his assailant, and from his position on the forest floor, the first thing his eyes found were a pair of wellingtons. He looked upwards, expecting to see Longbottom, but there was a mask over the face: an engraved, metallic looking mask that concealed everything but the eyes, even the space for the mouth was slitted. His heart thundered and blood roared in his ears. "Pr – Professor?" he asked. "It's just me, Servius -,"

"Shut up! I know who you are. Who knows you're here? Who?"

"Nobody -,"

"Don't fuck with me! Your father – he's back – where does he think you are?"

Longbottom didn't sound right. Servius squinted to see better, but in the gloom, and with the mask it was impossible to tell. "I don't know, I honestly haven't seen him -,"

"I said don't fucking lie to me!" Longbottom placed a boot on Servius' brow but let it rest there, "or this goes down." He dwelt on this for a moment, then added: "What a shame – poor Snape junior squashed by a troll in the Forest. Shouldn't have been poking around by himself in a dangerous place."

"I – I'm not lying."

"Hah! Must be genetic – not a straight damn bone in the Snape body. Like father like son, eh?"

Would he – could he – kill him? Nausea swamped Servius; bile flooded his mouth. The boot on his forehead rocked forwards and backwards, twisting his head into the leaves and mud.

"Now tell me what you know! Why are you following me?" The boot lifted away.

"I'm not following you – I was just letting my owl out -,"

"Cruciatus!" said Longbottom, and the next thing Servius knew was burning on every nerve end and a slicing pain down the length of his back. He'd cried out in agony before his mind had fully registered what had happened.

"But how can I do this?" said Longbottom in a sing-song voice. "I'm your teacher, the beloved Neville Longbottom! Herbology Master! Student hero, slayer of Nagini. How can it be?"

"Because you're a DE!" gasped Servius between tides of pain. "A Death Eater."

There was an abrupt silence and then a hiss and Servius was hit with another bout of the Cruciatus. He writhed around on the forest floor, gritting his teeth. So that wasn't a no.

When the pain at last receded, Longbottom reached down and jerked Servius up onto his feet by the collar of his jacket. "Recognise the mask do you? How? Did your daddy show you his?"

Servius swayed, dots in front of his eyes, his back felt like a herd of cows had walked over it. "I saw your Dark Mark."

Longbottom struck him hard across the face so that Servius was tossed to the left and fell once again to the ground. Blood pumped into his mouth. Longbottom stepped over and lifted him again – he was surprisingly strong, stronger than he looked. Servius kept his eyes shut, waiting for the next blow, spitting blood.

"What a busy boy you've been. What a fine Slytherin. Daddy's been teaching you all his best tricks, hasn't he?"

Servius was lifted and hurled against the trunk of a nearby elm tree, the smash against his back making him cry out and springing tears to his eyes. I'm no coward, I'm in control of my emotions….

"And here we have our own little member of the Famous Five, trying to catch the nasty villain in the act. Well this isn't Muggledom, my lad, soon you'll be dead and disappeared with a wave of my wand because you know too much! And there are some scores that need settling."

His ankles still bound, Servius dropped to his knees and hung his head. The forest quieted around him and he assumed he was about to faint, but then a hand grabbed his hair and pulled his head back. It stayed like that for two or three seconds and then Longbottom said, "You are pretty though, eh? Look at those lips."

"Fuck you," muttered Servius, and attempted to pull his hair free. "If you're going to kill me, get it over with. But you won't get away with it. Snape knows what you're after."

It didn't take long for this to sink in, and the news infuriated Longbottom. He let Servius drop to the ground again, and with one booted foot, swung it hard into his chest. Servius had the wind knocked out of him and searing pain through his ribs. Then, unexpectedly, there was laughter. Familiar laughter.

"Do you honestly think Snape will trouble himself over you? If he comes after me, lad, it will be to shake my fucking hand and thank me for saving him the time. You should have seen how he sat there when your filthy slut of a Mudblood mother was hung over the table. He didn't bat an eye."

"You were there…?"

Could Longbottom have been at that meeting? It seemed impossible, the way Draco talked about him, everything Servius had heard about. Had the man been a double agent like his father?

"Oh yes, I was there. They don't tell you that about Neville Longbottom, do they? But at least I took off Nagini's head…your father fed your mother to it."

"What? I don't know Nagini -," Servius gasped, trying to make sense of what he was hearing, trying, frantically, at the back of his mind to figure out an escape.

Longbottom reached down and pulled Servius upright again, and once more shoved him against the tree trunk. He brought his masked face close. "Nagini was the familiar of the Dark Lord, and his very special friend. A snake as big as the tree behind you. But snakes that size need more than just mice for their dinner." Then he laughed again at Servius' swollen face as the horror began to dawn. "I couldn't believe what I was seeing! Did you know that pythons can unhinge their jaw so that it can fit around large prey? And your mother was pretty large, even by Nagini's standards."

Servius struggled, turning his face away. "It's not true -,"

"Oh it's true. But they can't pull the prey into their mouth – no hands, see? – so they push themselves around it, and their stomachs are already digesting, quick as it can, to make room. It probably took Nagini fucking hours to swallow your mother…it was still eating her by the time the meeting was over I can tell you that much. We had to get them off the table, needed room for a tea service, see? Took six of us to lift that bloody snake all coiled around the Mudblood. So Nagini finished eating your mother behind dear daddy's chair. And your father sat there the whole time. I wonder if he could hear it?"

It was impossible not to imagine, even though Servius couldn't believe it, he imagined his father, impassive in his chair, listening. Light started to dim all around him. "Who are you?" Servius muttered.

"Your worst fucking nightmare, you little shit."

Servius heard voices, then felt something cold on his forehead and his eyes snapped open in shock. He saw a ceiling: he was inside. Sheets and blankets covered him; he smelt antiseptic, bright gaslight. Then he immediately tried to sit up, but his body wouldn't respond. Someone said "Servius? He's awake."

It was Madam Pomfrey, at his side, frowning.

"Where am I?" he asked, and it came out a whisper.

"You're in the Hospital Wing, Servius, you're going to be fine."

Then his father came to the bedside, his expression grave and intense. Professors McGonagall and Slughorn came to the other side and at the foot were Amelie and Wait for William. They all looked at him and he looked back, memories tumbling around in his head.

"Professor Longbottom!" he said, struggling to sit up again. "Did he kill me?"

His visitors all glanced at each other. "Kill you? No, he saved you!" said McGonagall, impatience etched deep in her voice. "He carried you out. That's why you're here, thank Merlin. Can't you remember?"

"N-no, he was going to kill me – he used a curse, it hurt – he tied me up -,"

"The Centaurs tied you up," said Slughorn. "Lucky for you, Professor Longbottom was searching for specimens. Madam Pomfrey – his head injury? Could he be confused?"

"He has been hit on the head…so soon after his last trauma -,"

"He had a mask!" said Servius, his voice rising as he glanced from face to face. "He was after the Resurrection Stone!"

McGonagall snorted heavily and tutted. "Resurrection Stone indeed. He's babbling, clearly disoriented…or…making things up -,"

"I'm not making it up!"

"A mask?" murmured Snape. "Are you sure it was Professor Longbottom?"

"No -," said Servius but McGonagall spoke over the top of him.

"It was most certainly Neville. There was no sign of a mask when I met him. Master Snape, I'm afraid your determination to get into trouble has gone about far enough! I'll thank you to accept responsibility, rather than shift blame to the very person who rescued you!"

"Servius?" said Amelie. "We found Professor Longbottom carrying you out at the edge of the Forest -,"

"So?! He's covering himself - it's obvious! Why were you there? You saw Lamebottom go in, didn't you? Tell them Amelie!"

"Lamebottom?" echoed McGonagall, scandalized.

"No…" admitted Amelie and searched his eyes. "I…felt you were in trouble -,"

"You felt?"

"Ma'am," said Snape in moderate tones, and looking directly at the Headmistress. "I have reason to think Servius may be telling the truth. But as yet I have no evidence -,"

"Whereas I," retorted McGonagall, "have multiple reasons for thinking this is a load of mince. From both of you! I encourage you to talk to your son, Severus, and get some sense out of him. While Professor Slughorn and I have the very regrettable job of deciding a suitable punishment."

"Oh please not House points!" wailed William.

"I'm telling the truth! It's the truth!" shouted Servius, his head pounding, and Pomfrey hurried over to him. "Ask the Centaurs! I was never there!"

McGonagall turned to Amelie and William. "You two! Scram! Visiting is over." Then they, followed by McGonagall and Slughorn walked out of the wing, shutting the arched oak door behind them with a clang.

"Servius, now you're awake, I have a number of draughts and remedies for you," said Pomfrey, easing him back against the pillows. "But that head injury – tsk! And I want you to tell me a bit more about that curse…" Then, with a troubled frown, she whisked away to her stores and Servius was left alone with Snape, standing over him.

"Longbottom caught you, didn't he?" said Snape softly. "You were following him. Despite my express and explicit instruction to stay away from there."

"He's after the Resurrection Stone," said Servius through gritted teeth. "He can't have it."

"No. He can't. What were you planning to do to stop him?"

"I don't know. Maybe warn the Centaurs. Hex him? I didn't think that far ahead."

"You'll never win that way, Servius. You're too impulsive."

"At least I care!"

"You don't think it was Longbottom? Could you see behind the mask?"

"No, but he said things, things that make me think it couldn't be Professor Lamearse."

"Such as -?"

"He said he was at the meeting where Mum was murdered. Why would Professor Longbottom be here at Hogwarts and Head of Gryffindor and not at Azkaban if he was a Death Eater?"

"What?" said Snape, shaking his head with surprise and confusion. "Longbottom isn't a Death Eater. He wasn't ever at the Manor. No, I don't think it was Longbottom you followed."

"Then who carried me out?"

"I have some theories about that. The man behind the mask: who -?"

"His laugh," said Servius, and swayed a little. "He sounded like that man at the Christmas party."

Snape nodded grimly. "I thought so. Rabastan Lestrange."

Servius looked coldly at his father then, at these dark and dirty legacies that tracked him, these consequences that buzzed like flies attracted to the stench of unforgiven acts. "I don't understand what's going on. But I have a question, and I want you to answer it."

"I've told you Servius, there's some things you're too young to understand. What did Rabastan say?"

Servius held his father's eyes but did not reply, and Snape saw they were repelled and distant. Pomfrey arrived with a tray full of brews and concoctions, but when she saw Servius' face, she propped. "Merlin's beard, Servius, that look is worse than a basilisk!"

Snape's own eyes narrowed a little. "What did he say to you, Servius?"

"He said she was a filthy slut of a Mudblood," Servius answered plainly, "and you let her die."

Pomfrey's eyes popped wide and her mouth fell open. She almost dropped her tray. "Papus and all his saints! You -,"

"Servius!" barked Snape. "Enough!"

"That's why she wasn't worth saving! You didn't love her at all, you just used her!" Servius tried to rise again, tried to get out of bed. "Rabastan said you just sat there – you just sat there!"

"Rabastan -? What? Who?" stuttered Pomfrey, clattering down her tray on the bedside table and trying to wrestle Servius back into bed. "Professor Snape, please – you're agitating him!"

Servius grabbed one of the opened bottles of potion on the tray and hurled it at Snape. "I hate you! I hate you!" The bottle missed him, but the contents sprayed out all over his face and shoulders, and the bottle crashed into the corner of the ward. "You're not my father. My name is Servius Burbage and I never want to see you again!"

The door to the wing opened at that moment and Sinistra rushed in, stopping short at the scene, her hand flying to her mouth. "Servius!" she exclaimed and ran down the aisle to his bed. "What's happened? Calm down, calm down!"

She tried to gather Servius in her arms but he was now flailing in efforts to rip back the blankets and tightly tucked in sheets of his bed. A silvery smoke-like substance was drifting from his mouth and nostrils. "Heavenly stars, he's exuding, he's about to have an uncontrolled, calm him down!"

"Get off me!" Servius hollered against the restraining arms, and a strange, warming strength flooded through him. He pushed them away easily.

Servius looked up to see Snape coming towards him, hair lank with the dripping potion, and once again his world went black.

He came to a minute later to find everything around him – furniture, the privacy screen, the tray and its contents, the sheets of his bed and the people as well – had all been blasted away from him, tossed and strewn out before him as if he'd literally exploded. Snape was on his feet, but he was helping Sinistra and Pomfrey to theirs, and when he raised his head to look at Servius, his eyes glittered.

Servius didn't wait. With this unusual energy, he scrambled off the bed, grabbed his wand where it had fallen to the floor, and limped as fast as he could for the door of the hospital wing. It still stood open where Sinistra had left it, and moments later he was out in the corridor.

He glanced about wildly. He was barefoot and only in striped, hospital pyjamas but he ignored the sudden cold and headed for the moving staircase, his only thought to find Amelie, then – then Hogsmeade, the train station, they could run away together. Brooms! His broom, maybe they could go to Germany? Maybe she had family there…it didn't matter, so long as they were together.

He had no idea what time it was, but outside the Renaissance windows looked dark. As he came down the stairs and heard the commotion of dining students in the Great Hall, he guessed it was dinner.

"Amelie!" he shouted, limping as fast as he could to the grand doors of the Hall. He stood there in his pyjamas, still bruised and cut, and several hundred students abruptly hushed and turned to stare at him. "Amelie!"

Nobody moved or spoke for a moment, and Servius was struck with the horrible realisation that she had gone home for the day. Then Conor McMillon in Gryffindor, who was seated at the end closest to him, began to snicker. "Amelie!" McMillon mimicked in cruel tones and the table broke into uproarious laughter.

McGonagall was at her chair at the teachers table and she stood. "Quiet! Quiet all of you!" But the laughter carried on, the Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff tables joining in.

Servius reddened but walked down the centre aisle to see if Longbottom was there. He was, sitting in his father's customary seat, and he wore much the same expression as McMillon.

"You're not Professor Longbottom!" Servius shouted and the Hall lapsed into quiet once more. "You're a man called Rabastan! And you're a Death Eater!"

Longbottom's expression instantly cooled, and for a moment Servius wondered if he in fact was going crazy – the man looked exactly the way Longbottom had always looked and nothing at all like Rabastan. Then Longbottom smiled, shook his head in a pitying way and the Hall erupted into laughter anew.

There was a hand on his arm. He turned to find Michael Tattinger standing next to him. "C'mon mate," said Tattinger. "I think you need to go back to the Hospital."

"Where's Amelie?"

"She's gone home, mate. With her dad. She's only a day student remember?"

"No," Servius shook his head. "I'm not going back there. I've got to leave. I've got to find Amelie."

He brushed past Tattinger and headed back toward the entrance, hearing McGonagall again demanding quiet, but he drew to a standstill when he saw Snape and Sinistra had arrived and now stood in the doorway, blocking the way, staring at him.

"Sev," said Sinistra, her expression alarmed but full of sympathy. "Sweetheart, you're not yourself, you need rest -,"

Servius shook his head and it hurt inside. "Leave me alone."

"Here's a warm cloak. You must be freezing, put it on."

"Leave me alone. Let me through."

"Maybe you can go home, Servius," said Snape. "If you come with me we can talk about it. But you're not well -,"

"Don't talk to me!" Servius yelled furiously and the students in the Hall hushed once more, watching the drama intently. "You're a liar. A murderer!"

To the sound of the sudden exhalation in the room, Snape's jaw set, he glowered and his fingers began to flex. Servius knew what that meant, and with eyes narrowed, he raised his wand first. "I know how to duel."

"There's nobody duelling, Servius," replied Snape icily. "Put down your wand."

"Get out the way. Let me through."

Snape and Sinistra stepped aside. "Here, just put the cloak on," she said anxiously.

Servius took the moment. He limped forward and out through the door, still to the silent, watchful Hall full of students and teachers, William looking forlorn where he sat at the Slytherin table. Servius did not drop or even lower his wand, he kept it pointed at Snape as he walked past him, and with his other hand he took the winter cloak that Sinistra held out. Behind, the doors to the Great Hall came to a solid close.

"Don't come after me," he said to Snape. "I'll kill you."

"Sev!" said Sinistra, shocked.

"You have no idea what you're saying," Snape said, with wary, glinting eyes. "You don't understand -,"

"I was an accident, wasn't I?" Servius spat. "A mistake. You got your end away with Mum and I was the thing that was never supposed to happen!"

Sinistra sucked in her breath at this, and her eyes widened before she turned them to the floor, blood rushing to her cheeks. Snape glanced at her, but then turned back to Servius. "You're mistaken, wholly mistaken. I asked your mother to marry me; I loved her with everything I had."

"That's lies. You let her die."

"What?" gasped Sinistra, and she stared at Snape but he was already moving, advancing on Servius and into his hand he'd found his wand. His mood had changed.

"Right Servius, I've had enough. You want a real father? I'll show you what kind of father I learned to live with. Get here now!"

Servius had a moment to realise what was happening, and then he pointed his wand and yelled: "Everte Statum", one of the few spells he could remember from his duelling Handbook. Snape calmly blocked it and then raised his own wand.

"No!" cried Sinistra, and she ran after Snape, grabbing his right arm and pulling it down. Servius saw the distracted fury on Snape's face and seized the moment, bolting for the front door.

He made it outside and flew down the courtyard steps, his frozen feet stumbling and unresponsive so that he almost tripped when he reached the stony path. The sconces in brackets on either side of the door were flaming, but he lit his wand, knowing he was heading into the dark, and fled down the embankment, pulling on his cloak as he ran, every movement sending spasms of pain through him. There was a frost on the grass and his pyjama bottoms were soon soaked but he barely noticed, and ran straight for the entrance of the tunnel, thinking that if Amelie could feel him, she surely would now, and would find him, she would know to go to the abandoned house.

Snape ran outside and stood in the courtyard, glancing around, and soon laid eyes on the glow from Servius' wand. He had an ominous feeling he knew where Servius was headed, and he raced down the embankment with his own wand lit, easily following the tracks in the frost.

When he reached the beginning of the tunnel, the tracks had disappeared as had Servius' wandlight. "The diaries," he muttered to himself and cursed vehemently. "How in hell did you find the entrance?" But he did not enter the tunnel. He instead turned and ran helter-skelter down the track to the Winged Boar Gates, the slippery mud almost upending him. He flung the gates open and once on the path to Hogsmeade, immediately Disapparated to the Shrieking Shack.

For a minute he stood outside the shack, noting the darkness within, and felt goosebumps prickle up his arms and back. The Shrieking Shack and he had an unhappy history, he couldn't help a sense of foreboding that dogged his footsteps as he pushed open the creaking front door.

The interior was illuminated by the pale light of a bright moon through the broken shutters and dirty windows. He noticed small signs of occupation, perhaps from the Hogsmeade coven or even Servius, and his gaze turned unconsciously to the darkened patch on the front room floorboards. There were scattered candles on the nearby table – Voldemort's table - and he tried to set them upright but their bottoms were uneven for some reason, sliced clean but too unstable to stand. Instead he went through to the cobwebby kitchen and lit a single Gaslamp hanging from a hook, which he took with him to a corner under the staircase with a chair to wait.

He didn't have to wait long, perhaps thirty minutes before the trapdoor creaked open and Servius crawled out of the tunnel onto the floor of the shack. Snape's heart wrenched at the sight of him. Somehow, in ways he didn't really understand, his son was beautiful. It wasn't a physical thing, it was the action, the independence of a new, tender soul discovering its will to live and learning how best to save itself. Snape could tell, from the edginess of Servius' movements, that the boy was still electrified by nerves and adrenaline, and he could see, even in the starved light, that there was bruising taking colour on his jaw and around his eyes, his lower lip was swelling. Sinistra's instincts had been unfounded: there had been no intention on his part to hurt Servius, nothing could be gained by that anymore - Servius hurt enough for all of them, he knew all about how twelve-year-olds could attain a maximum point where a surplus no longer had an effect. But he had needed this all to stop.

He watched as Servius lowered the trapdoor back down and then stood upright, one hand pulling the cloak together, the other holding his wand. He was looking into the front room of the Shrieking Shack, in the opposite direction to Snape, and seemed to search for inspiration about what to do next. Like a moth to the allure of moonlight, Servius at last stepped through the dust leaving damp footprints and approached the spot where the rays were most lustrous, his head bent to the floorboards, and when he came to the stain, Snape's mouth went dry.

With deliberation, Servius stepped onto the stain and around him, a circle inscribed in the floorboards began to glow, and from the way he glanced about him it was clear this was something he hadn't seen before himself. He then stilled, closed his eyes and uttered the word "Amelie".

That his son's inexperienced heart had formed so passionate a commitment to a girl should not have surprised Snape - this was, after all, in the family hard-wiring. Bonding, whether by ribbon or blood, carried no weight compared with the Snape capacity for strenuous love – those were only tokens that gave them permission to open their hearts uninhibited, and were dropped away like husks as the bloom of Snape devotion unfurled in full, glorious, aching form. Glowing circle or not, Snape understood that Servius was in the throes of an obsession with Amelie that a tragic separation would only nurture. He sighed.

Servius heard and swung about quickly. "Lumos duo!"

Snape rose from his chair and lifted the Gaslamp. "It's me." He shielded his face from the full glare of Servius' wand. "Lower that. Look -," he crouched down and put his wand on the floor, then kicked it towards his son. "I'm unarmed." He lifted his open hand. "I'm here only out of concern – you are my concern. You will always be my concern."

Servius recovered from his surprise and kicked the wand back to him. "You should keep that. I don't know what I might do. I really want to hurt you but I'm…I'm a Warlock and I can't harm someone who's defenceless."

"You're already hurting me, Servius. I've been in nothing but a world of pain since I was first told you existed. But I wouldn't change it. I'll take the pain gladly. You are worth it to me."

"When did you know I existed?"

"In July. That's all. Only since July."

"You didn't know anything about me until then?"

"I didn't even know that I'd loved your mother until then."

"What? You said you'd asked her to marry you – what?"

Snape swallowed and took a deep breath. "When your mother left I was too broken to protect her from the Dark Lord, so I eliminated all my memories of her. All our memories." He closed his eyes, then re-opened them slowly, breathing, holding fast to Servius' gaze. "The Dark Lord would never know about our love from me."

There was a long silence in return. The ring around Servius was intensifying in its glow and it cast him in a soft radiance. "You…eliminated all your memories…can you do that? Is it magic?"

"Yes. You can do that. It's dangerous, it's illegal, but it's possible. You saw them: in the Pensieve. They had all been removed. I arranged it so."

Servius shook his head in childish disbelief, no longer questioning the logic of this world. Nothing was upright, nothing was secure, every step could land in a rabbit-hole. He had evidently got to the point where his ability to care had been surpassed; like a small boat in a Tsunami, he now just accepted the inevitable and hoped for the best.

"And where is my mother?" Servius then asked, his voice turning cool. "You've never told me. Where is she buried? Did you eliminate her body as well?"

Snape shook his head. "I'm afraid there's no grave, Servius. Not even ashes. You wanted the truth…That is one of the great misfortunes of war…loved ones are lost."

"How did her body get lost? You were there. What did they do with her after that Dark Lord guy killed her?"

The inquiry was placed with calm and level tones, but Servius was flicking his wand to and fro in a perfect tempo of controlled anger. Snape hesitated, having the sense of a trap. He lowered the Gaslamp a little.

"Rabastan told you?"

"Yes. We had a lovely chat. In between the dusting up, he told me all about the snake, the giant snake. I thought that can't be true, that's impossible. This man is crackers, is all. Trying to make me mad."

Snape stared at him, watched as Servius raised his wand to forty-five degrees.

"And he said that the snake ate my mum, the only parent I had, behind your chair. And he said that you…sat there. Through the meeting. And -," Servius ground to a halt and swallowed hard, twice, and when he spoke again his voice was hoarse. "…it took the snake hours to eat her. My mum."

Snape had reeled back, his mind full of the memory, how he'd sat like stone and stared at the polished table, fighting wave after wave of nausea, Voldemort's voice a background drone while the shuffling, sucking noises drifted up behind him. He hadn't saved the Muggle Studies teacher, her last words had been his name and a plea, as if she were more than just a colleague, as if Voldemort had good reason for conducting his test. And he was horrified, so horrified he dared not speak or move for fear the revulsion would overpower him, and he thought: This is for Lily. For Dumbledore. This is my penance. I will not be sick, I will not be sick. But I will surely die for this.

Snape saw a tear slip down Servius' cheek and the wand pointed at him trembled. He said quietly, "Everything that was beautiful and true and loving about your mother was gone by then. Her spirit, her soul was not there, Servius, only flesh and blood. The mortal coil, as they say. She made an incredible sacrifice for us, one I didn't know at the time, but if I had tried to save her body then I would have died as well. You would have been orphaned, but instead your mother gave herself so we could be here, together. Rise above it. Rise above that and focus on what's important, what she wanted, don't let it be in vain."

With his free hand, Servius roughly shoved his hair out of his eyes and rubbed his forehead. "If I'm a Warlock, then I have to be a wizard of virtue, integrity and reason. I took an oath. I swore to protect and defend the people I love. And I loved my mum. You didn't. You were a COWARD."

The last word was shouted and followed immediately by a choking sob. Snape took a step forward, never taking his eyes of Servius, but anger was rising like a dull heat in his chest. He felt bolts locking tight in his mind.

"PICK UP YOUR WAND!" yelled Servius. "Prepare to fight!"

"I'm not fighting you -," said Snape through gritted teeth, but he cautiously bent and gathered his wand from the floor. "I can't change -,"

"Expelliarmus!" shouted Servius and the sheet of green hit Snape fully frontal, sending him flying back against the chair and into the staircase. "I don't care if I die. I haven't got anything to live for. I should just be dead."

Snape slowly got to his feet, more shocked than hurt, and more than a little worried by the sudden crazed look in his son's eyes. "Never say that; nobody wants you to suffer, Servius -,"

He saw Servius raise his wand again and prepared himself to defend.

"Everte Statum!" yelled Servius and Snape blocked it, then Snape barked "Expelliarmus!"

Servius' wand went flying and Servius dived for it. "Locomotor mortis," said Snape and Servius was pulled short, falling with locked legs to the floor.

"Accio!" there came suddenly from the door, and there was Amelie, a fierce expression on her face her hair haloing around her head, holding her hand out to catch Servius' wand as it came flying to her. She caught it easily, then turned to Snape with her own wand. "Confringo!" she spat and the wall behind Snape's head exploded into shards of rotten wood.

"Petrificus Totalis!" said Snape immediately, directing this at Amelie. She ducked and shielded, then blasted him a second time. The roof above him ripped open and shreds of floorboard rained down. Snape dodged it and dove for the cover of the kitchen.

Servius had been released from his leg-lock and had his wand returned, and had now backed further into the front room. His eyes were wide and he was panting. From his own position, with a pounding heart, Snape tried to hear what was happening.

Servius started to laugh. "Come out old man!" he called after a few moments. "Do your worst! I know you can do better than that."

"What are you doing?" he heard Amelie say heatedly and realized this was directed to Servius. "Why are you fighting him?"

"I told him I would kill him," replied Servius. "You and me need to get away from here."

"You can't kill him! Are you crazy? Let's just go – leave him!"

"Did you hear me?" confided Servius to her in a softer voice. "I called you. Look at the circle."

"Yes. Yes, I felt you. Now let's go, my broom is outside. Where are your clothes? Do you just have pyjamas?"

"I can't go yet. I've gotta honour my Oath. I've been practicing since the troll."

Troll? thought Snape.

"By attacking your father, Sev? Leave him, he won't hurt you."

"It's not me…it's for mum… Come out! See how you're a coward! You wouldn't have hidden when you were a teenager, not from a twelve-year-old!"

The words, the provocation, were well considered and struck deep in Snape. He bit his lip hard and held on through a wave of reactive stimuli that for some reason brought to him memories of his own father staggering through the front doorway, nothing but a black silhouette bracing and swaying against the livingroom doorframe, his mother's eyes, dark as his own, turning to him as she wearily rose to her feet from her armchair. Go up to your room, Sev. Put some music on.

Snape tossed his wand out of the kitchen door where it rolled onto the hallway floor. "There's my wand, Servius," he said loudly. "You win. I won't fight you."

"Pick it up! Pick it up and fight properly! I challenged you!"

Snape took a deep breath and stepped out into the hall and faced his son. "No."

Amelie glanced wildly from Servius to Snape and back again. "Servius, he's unarmed -,"

Servius was staring with manic eyes at Snape. "I have this picture in my head," he said. "I've seen snakes eating things on TV, and now I can't get this picture out of my head."

Amelie squinted at him confused, but didn't speak.

"Servius, maybe we need to go for some help," said Snape, breathing deeply, his hands held up in front of him. He took two steps towards him. "Maybe we should go together, maybe we can't fix this by ourselves."

"You broke it! You broke everything! It's your job to fix it!" Servius swapped his wand from one hand to another and then wiped it down the cotton of his top.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry for everything I broke. I would change it all if I could."

Servius shook his head warningly. "Don't come any closer or I'll kill you! Pick up your wand!"

"No, I'm not going to fight you Servius. You're my son." He took another two steps. "Why don't you put down yours? Breaking more things won't help."

"Sev -," said Amelie. "Leave him, we have to go -,"

Servius shut his eyes and hung his head, then in agitation shook his empty hand. Despite the cold in the shack, his face shone with sweat.

Snape took one more step and there rose from Servius an anguished, desperate cry, and he pointed his wand at Snape. With burning eyes and trembling fingers, he shouted "Sectumsempra!"

A cold glassy sensation cleaved through Snape, the curse sounding in his ears but he couldn't believe what he'd heard. There was only slight, sharp pain, but it was the draining feeling, a looseness, a weakness that made him gasp, and he glanced down to where he felt a creeping warmth and saw a darkness spreading on the front of his coat, uncannily like that on the floor. Surprised, he put his hand to it and red seeped through his fingers. Breath left him. His heart thudded. He looked up and saw Servius and Amelie both staring at him, wide-eyed and horrified, then they dimmed to grey, seemed to spin away from him. He couldn't get air, he could feel it rattling in his chest; blood filled his mouth, up his throat. Unknowingly, he sank to his knees.

With a strange, seesawing motion the floor swung up under him and he was vaguely aware of a golden glow around him and then he heard a cry: "Dad! NO! Dad! Dad!"

Servius dropped his wand and threw himself down to the floor next to Snape, laying his hands on the slowly drenching coat. The moonlight had faded behind a cloud, and while the glow from the circle provided some light, there wasn't enough for Servius see the full extent of the injury and he felt rather than saw the blood begin to flow freely. He barely noticed Amelie run to the door, yelling frantically that she would get help, leaving sticky, red footprints in her wake.

Servius wrenched free of his cloak and tried to create a compression bandage out of it, but wherever he placed it there seemed to be another source of bubbling blood. He took off his pyjama top and used that as well, dismayed and distraught at how quickly the blue and white stripes turned red.

"Dad, Dad, Dad – hold on, hold on – keep breathing. What do I do? What do I do?"

He glanced around him, saw nothing and when he looked back down his father's emotionless face seemed as pale as the moon had been, and he pressed his fingers to the cheek, hoping for warmth, belatedly realising he'd never voluntarily touched him before. It was slightly rough, in want of a shave, and he remembered how his grandfather used to sometimes rub his own smooth cheek with his whiskery chin for a giggle. He flattened his palm and rubbed it along Snape's jaw, holding his breath, tears dripping unnoticed, aware that with this small gesture of physical affection, a wall inside him imploded. He'd wanted it so desperately. "Dad…I…I'm so, so sorry, I didn't mean it, I didn't think it would work, I just wanted to scare you, I wanted you to feel as fucked up as me. You'll be alright, you'll be okay, we'll fix this up, just like Ma's vase, there'll be a spell that can fix you – ha, you probably know it, I bet you know the right spell, eh? Dad? It was your curse, from your book. I did it, didn't I? Stop bleeding, please Dad, please stop bleeding, just hold on, not much longer."

And what dreames did come, for Severus Snape...