Diagnosis and Prognosis

Severus once again sat in front of the fireplace, once again, a drink was beside him. He was reading a book, much like he always was. His mother, he had been told, had read to him every single night. Started out with things like The Frog and the Toad, and once he found out he was a wizard, she read him spellbooks. He knew the entire contents of Standard Book of Spells Grade 2 by the time he was just seven. On the nights Tobias was passed out in the living room, his mum would come wake him up in the dead of the night, and let him use her wand. She didn't bother with it anymore, in fact, despite teaching her son magic, she seemed frightened of the very thought of it. All of the spell books she had taught him, and many of the other books from his childhood (including The Frog and Toad) still sat on the shelf among the other books. Of course, since reading had obviously been a big part of his childhood, his collection didn't consist of solely wizarding books. Right now, in fact, he was reading David Myers Psychology, 9th Edition (Editions 3, 4, 6, and 8 also sat cleanly on the shelf). He had read the whole book, of course, but he had found a subject on page 604 particularly… interesting last summer.

"... reoccuring haunting memories and nightmares, a numbered social withdrawal, jumpy anxiety, and insomnia- are all typical of what was once called "shell shock" and "battle-fatigue" and is now called post traumatic stress disorder (PTSD)..."

He had been drunk that night too when he found this passage. It, ironically, was a muggle term. But he knew it was right. And its the worst when I'm here. He thought bitterly. Getting drunk, constantly having flashbacks of my parents and Lily and the Dark Lords reveals, nightmares that end in cold sweats and more alcohol, insomnia, constantly hearing Tobias's voice in my head…. Fuck it.

Severus knew that he had become the one thing he swore he wouldn't be. It was constant, he heard himself say the things his father had said to him. He drank like his father. He had no doubt that if he had a wife (he scoffed at the thought) he would've been a terrible husband.

He knew Lily was better off dead then with him. He didn't want to picture her beautiful long red hair in this house. He didn't want to see her in his parents bedroom, sleeping with him. He didn't want to see her face when she walked in their sons room and

No. His voice was so firm it almost took him by surprise. Even now, I'd never do that.

He had long stopped reading the book. He was staring at the fire again. Let Albus check in now. He thought suddenly, savagely. Let him see this-

"You let him see this?"

Tobias was holding up Transfiguration for Beginners. Ellein stood defensively, but she said nothing. Tobias turned on him. "Didja like the book?" Severus couldn't answer (He didn't remember why); he was paralysed with fear. Tobias was walking up to him now, with a familiar leer on his face….

"Severus!"

He woke with a start. It was late, too late for anyone to call…

"Severus!"

He was paralysed with fear, like the little boy looking up at his dad with the book. "Albus." he croaked. Something was horribly wrong. He got up and stood in the fireplace, threw down the powder, and spun into the office. Dumbledore was had his wand pointed toward the fireplace, his body slumped over his desk. All the memories that were fighting their way forward disappeared in an instant. "Albus." He was a blur, everything was blurry. He heaved the old man back on his chair, checked his pulse. Ran back to the fireplace and suddenly he was in the basement, grabbing one of the potions that he had brewed out of sheer chance earlier in the day. He grabbed his wand and a book off the shelf, then spun back toward the office, where he found the Headmaster half-conscious. He was reaching for a ring, his hand blackened and burned, a red gleam in his eye.

Before Severus knew what he was doing, he batted the ring across the room, it landed by the pensive with a dull thud much larger than what should've been normal, he took in quickly. That ruled out hexes and jinxes. He slammed the book on the table and flipped quickly to the curses section. He wouldn't find the answer here, he knew, there were thousands of curses, but maybe he could find a counter that would heal multiple at once…

So, there he sat, for what seemed like an hour to him, muttering counter curses to a withered black old hand, mentally ruling out different curses in his head. There were many curses that could do this level of damage, but containing them in an object that small was… He finished his mumblings, then went and inspected the ring. It was old, that much he could see. The gem was a dark, blood red. It was laying on its side, but he could see an enormous crack in the jewel. He levitated the thing back to the desk and lay it down in front of Dumbledore. To his relief, the Headmaster no longer seemed possessed enough to grab it. One of his counter curses seemed to work. With this, he uncorked the potion, a bright gold, and in his left hand, he tipped the potion to Albus's mouth. He then bent back over the hand and did a few simple spells for the pain. He felt Dumbledore jerk slightly when he awoke-

"Why," said Snape without preamble, "why did you put on that ring? It carries a curse, surely you realized that. Why even touch it?" To his furry, he saw Dumbledore hesitate and grimace. "I… was a fool.. Sorely tempted…"

"Tempted by what." he spat

Dumbledore did not answer.

The rage he had felt since the start of the summer, the hallow, spitting rage, broke. "It is a miracle you managed to return here!" he said, furious. "That ring carried a curse of extraordinary power, to contain it is all we can hope for; I have trapped the curse in one hand for the time being-"

Dumbledore raised his blackened, useless hand, and examined it with the expression of one being shown an interested curio. "You have done very well Severus. How long do I have?"

And just like that, the rage halted. He had watched people die, even killed a few of them himself. But he had no idea how to actually tell someone they were dying. He was looking at him expectantly now. Snape hesitated, and then said "I cannot tell. Maybe a year. There is no halting such a spell forever. It is the kind of curse that strengthens over time."

Dumbledore smiled. Just like that, Severus rage washed back over him. How could he just smile like that when told he was going to die? But before he could say anything, Albus said "I am fortunate, extremely fortunate, that I have you Severus."

"If you had only summoned me a little earlier, I might have been able to do more, buy you more time!" said Snape furiously. He couldn't look at Dumbledore anymore, instead, he looked down at the broken ring and the sword. Did you think that breaking the ring would break the curse?"

"Something like that ... I was delirious, no doubt …" said Dumbledore. No shit Snape thought. With an effort, Dumbledore straightened himself in his chair. 'Well, really, this makes matters much more straightforward.'

He looked at Dumbledore again. The old fool was smiling. Why in the world was this old, dying man smiling when he had just given him a death sentence? Dumbledore smiled.

'I refer to the plan Lord Voldemort is revolving around me. His plan to have the poor Malfoy boy murder me.'

Snape sat down,

seething slightly as he did so. He opened his mouth, determined to say his piece about the ring, but the other held it up in polite refusal to discuss the matter further. Scowling, but knowing it was useless to argue, Snape gave the information to Dumbledore, the very information Narcissia Malfoy had cried at his feet, begging her to tell him. He had felt for her in that moment, even if her sister did not. He pushed the memory aside as he said "The Dark Lord does not expect Draco to succeed. This is merely punishment for Lucius's recent failures. Slow torture for Draco's parents, while they watch him fail and pay the price."

"In short, the boy has had a death sentence pronounced upon him as surely as I have," said Dumbledore. "Now, I should have thought the natural successor to the job, once Draco fails, is yourself?"

There was a short pause as Severus thought this over for a moment. It had been hinted, of course. Nobody expected Draco to succeed, he knew that. He wasn't Lucius, something Lucius had despised him for. But everyone, of course, knew he was capable. It sickened him slightly as he said "That, I think, is the Dark Lord's plan."

"Lord Voldemort foresees a moment in the near future when he will not need a spy at Hogwarts?"

He could see the fire in Dumbledore's eyes. He looked scary then, like the man who had imprisoned Ginderward, or at least, the man he imagined had. He almost sighed as he said "He believes the school will soon be in his grasp, yes."

"And if it does fall into his grasp," said Dumbledore, almost, it seemed, as an aside, "I have your word that you will do all in your power to protect the students of Hogwarts?"

Protect the very students he hated. Wasn't Potter enough? Wasn't protecting James Fucking Potter's son enough for this man? But then he remembered all the blood he had shed, only because he had to, of course, but he woke up everyday with those screams in his ears. The Muggle women he had raped, unable to kill them, they deserved better. He didn't put it past some in the Dark Lords rank to do that to children. Not for the first time, Severus remembered the little boy he'd been as his father bathed him. He was little, but he was old enough. Snape gave a stiff nod.

"Good. Now then. Your first priority will be to discover what Draco is up to. A frightened teenage boy is a danger to others as well as to himself. Offer him help and guidance, he ought to accept, he likes you -"

"– much less since his father has lost favour. Draco blames me, he thinks I have usurped Lucius's position." And it was true, whilst Draco had not looked at anyone during the Dark Revels, he had a look of unsurprised fury every time his name was mentioned. He had never particularly liked the boy, no matter what it appeared. But he was acting like an idiot and a fool, and if there was one thing Severus hated, it was a fool.

"All the same, try. I am concerned less for myself than for accidental victims of whatever schemes might occur to the boy. Ultimately, of course, there is only one thing to be done if we are to save him from Lord Voldemort's wrath.'"

Snape raised his eyebrows. Surely Dumbledore could not be suggesting what he thought he was. Hadn't he just mentioned trying to protect the child? His tone was sardonic as he asked, "Are you intending to let him kill you?"

"Certainly not. You must kill me."

No. That was the first word Severus was conscious of thinking. It had been enough, murdering women, men, and defenseless children, both magical and not alike. But to kill Dumbledore? Dumbledore. The most wide renound and greatest sorcerer alive? Dumbledore was mad just to suggest it. There would be a witch-hunt by the entire magical community for a murder he had no desire to commit. Was he insane? His mind continued to race until a noise broke the silence. He jumped slightly, looking over. Fawkes the phoenix was gnawing a bit of cuttlebone.

'Would you like me to do it now?' asked Snape

finally, his voice heavy with irony. "Or would you like a few moments to compose an epitaph?"

"Oh, not quite yet," said Dumbledore, smiling. "I daresay the moment will present itself in due course. Given what has happened tonight," he indicated his withered hand,(Severus scowled slightly at the sight of it) "we can be sure that it will happen within a year."

'If you don't mind dying,' said Snape roughly, desperate for the first time in living memory to make some sort of excuse. "Why not let Draco do it?"

"That boy's soul is not yet so damaged," said Dumbledore. "I would not have it ripped apart on my account."

"And my soul, Dumbledore? Mine?"

"You alone know whether it will harm your soul to help an old man avoid pain and humiliation," said Dumbledore. That's just it Dumbledore, you don't. You have no idea how damaged my soul is. Do you think the Dark Lord openly admitted to murder back when I was recruited? No, no he didn't! I would've never joined if I had known that this was the fate that awaited me. I would've never done this. And if I had known, and I didn't choose this path, then who knows? Maybe I would've never grown away from Lily. Maybe we would've been together. "I ask this one, great favour of you, Severus, because death is coming for me as surely as the Chudley Cannons will finish bottom of this year's league. I confess I should prefer a quick, painless exit to the protracted and messy affair it will be if, for instance, Greyback is involved – I hear Voldemort has recruited him? Or dear Bellatrix, who likes to play with her food before she eats it.

His tone was light but his blue eyes pierced Snape. Of course you had to play that card he thought sarcastically. You know damn well that I know exactly what both of them are capable off. You manipulative, miserable asshole. Either I kill you, painlessly, or they do. Do you care the pain that murdering you would cause me? But, he thought, I've seen enough pain, haven't I? I've seen lives that I couldn't save, brutal murders. He looked up again, and he saw Dumbledore watching him closely, as though the soul they discussed was visible to him. At last Snape gave another curt nod.

Dumbledore seemed satisfied.

'Thank you, Severus ..'

If you've read the books (and lets be honest, you have :P) you already know that the italics are JKR's work and not my own. However, I wanted to expand on this memory a little. Everytime I get a Gmail about a new review, I get giddy. Let me know what you think about the new chapter? Also, lemons in the next chapter.