August 1980
Somewhere in muggle London, a man stood facing a small park; the night's darkness fell over the place like a heavy cape.
Severus dreaded moving, afraid that darkness would touch him and add to the burden he already carried on his soul.
All the nearby lights were off, and the buzzing sound of the severed electrical wires filled the air.
He looked around the park's playground – now completely destroyed, debris scattered all around the burnt, blood-soaked, grass.
It had been a perfect summer night for a wedding; not a cloud in the sky and the moon was shining bright, up until the Death Eaters arrived and ended what was certainly a beautiful ceremony.
Severus could still hear the screams of the victims and the deranged laughter of his fellow Death Eaters' as they killed everyone.
And if he closed his eyes he knew he would be able to see it all again.
He took a deep breath, trying to force those images out of his mind, filling his thoughts with the only thing that still kept him going: Florence.
Thinking of her – and, surprisingly, of her kids as well, remembering her love, her smell, her kisses, kept his nightmares at bay.
Some nights, when he was alone on his bed, he thought about talking to Dumbledore, give him all the information he had gathered under Voldemort so far and then face the Dark Lord's wrath.
After all, if the war ended tomorrow, no matter which side won, he knew he'd be doomed either way.
I'm fucked if I do, and fucked if I don't.
His future was one out of two: working for Voldemort until he died or going to Azkaban for the rest of his days.
I'd rather just die now. He thought.
And still, he couldn't stop dreaming about redemption.
He knew he wasn't deserving of it; many people had already died because of his poisons. But he could wish for it, dream of Florence, her love, her forgiveness.
If she ever forgave him, he could try to win her trust back, they could be together someplace far away.
No more deaths or nightmares. No more guilt.
Severus snorted at his own foolishness.
Nothing but silly dreams.
Once more he would have to get home and remove those thoughts of redemption from his mind so the Lord wouldn't be able to see them. Severus had finally reached a point when he was very good in Occlumency, good enough to fool the Dark Lord, but keeping less thoughts in his head helped him not get exhausted after hours of uninterrupted use of occlumency.
He saw the aurors arriving at the park and disapparated.
When Severus reopened his eyes, he gazed at the familiar old factory chimney at the far end of the street and ignored the angry feeling that always came over him when he looked at that factory and remembered his father.
When his mother's house came into sight, he stopped.
He had conflicted feelings towards that house; that was the place where his father for so many years had hit him and his mother, screaming at her because she was a witch that couldn't make money out of thin air.
Severus had grown up in that house, hating it every day because of his abusive father.
However, that was the same house where he had first made love to Florence, where they had spent so many amazing moments together.
The house had changed nearly completely over the last year; Severus had paid to have it remodelled from the moment he started to get some money.
As much as he disliked that place, his mother loved it. Eileen had loved his good-for-nothing father until the day the bastard died – and maybe even longer.
How did Tobias Snape die?
Well, he just went to bed one night, drunk as a skunk, after beating up his wife and his nine-year-old son, only to never wake up again.
The muggle police came in and took his body away.
Cause of death? Alcohol poisoning.
Was that the truth? No.
The truth will always be a mystery. Severus thought.
Almost ten minutes had gone by while he looked at the house, lost in his thoughts, so he decided to go inside.
He hoped his mother was already asleep because if she saw him, she'd be worried and furious. His clothes were ripped, stained – mud or blood he couldn't say for sure. He had bruises on his jaw and his hands were as dirty as his clothes. He was limping too.
He could have fixed himself with a simple Potion or Spell, but he'd rather not – that was his personal punishment.
He wasn't a coward – he thought daily about ending his own life but he would never go through with it.
So healing his wounds the muggle way was his punishment for all the atrocities he was forced to take part in.
And that night's atrocity had been barbaric.
It was a beautiful wedding, the muggles never saw it coming.
Severus walked into the house and went to the kitchen, not even bothering to turn on the lights, he knew that place better than he knew himself.
He sat on a chair, letting his head fall down on the table with a 'THUD', and he stayed like that.
Suddenly the kitchen light was switched on.
"Severus?"
He blinked, seeing his mother there, by the door, wearing a pink robe.
"I heard a noise and I thought it could be you..." Eileen yawned; and when she reopened her eyes, her son's bruises and torn clothes were all she saw, but didn't say anything about them, "Are you hungry?" she walked to the stove, turning it on and heating up some milk, "Sam's asleep, but I can make something for you."
"No, mum, thanks," he got up from the chair. "I'll just take a shower and sleep. Good night," and he left the kitchen, limping.
It broke Eileen's heart every time she saw her beloved son hurt like that.
She prepared her grandsons' bottles while silent tears fell down her face.
Severus got to the upstairs corridor and heard some noises coming from his mother's bedroom.
Curiosity had him going there and opening the door a little wider.
In the dimly lit room, only a bedside lamp was on, he could see two little boys on his mum's bed.
The kids were talking but stopped when they noticed him by the door.
"Who are you?" asked the green-eyed boy dressed in dark blue pyjamas.
"I... I'm Eileen's son," answered Severus, staring at the boys, not daring to walk into the room, remembering that he had blood on his clothes.
"I'm James," said the dark-eyed boy in the dark green pyjamas.
"I'm Nicholas."
"Are you... Florence's sons?" Severus asked, recognizing those green eyes and knowing right then that those two were the kids that appeared in his dreams sometimes and helped keep his nightmares away.
"Yes. Why you not come in?" asked James.
"I'm dirty," Severus said, "I'll take a shower and I... I could come back here, after."
"Yes, do it," said Nicholas, smiling, jumping on the bed.
"Yes, you do that," agreed James.
Severus took a step back and left the door as he had found it, half-open. Then he slowly walked down the corridor, going to his room, the boys in his mind all the time.
They were beautiful kids; Nicholas had Florence's eyes and they both had dark straight hair that reached their ears.
That's strange. Neither Florence nor Black have straight hair...
Well, it didn't matter. They were beautiful and very well-spoken for their age.
They must be almost two.
Severus didn't know the day or the month the boys were born, but he remembered it wasn't so hot anymore when he had first dreamed of them sleeping in a blue crib.
He took a shower, thinking about Florence and her sons, thinking about how lucky Black was that Severus had been so stupid years ago.
Now the mutt has her and those two beautiful kids.
He forced himself to stop thinking about Florence and Sirius Black and cleared his mind, letting the hot water relax his tired body.
Eileen walked back to her room with two warm milk bottles, finding her grandsons talking animatedly.
"We met your son, grandma!" exclaimed Nicholas.
"What?" Eileen asked, startled.
"At least he said he's your son," said James, a little suspicious.
"He was in here?" she immediately thought if his dirty clothes.
Florence is going to be furious. She thought.
"Yes, but he didn't come in," said Nicholas.
"He has black hair like us," commented James.
"He said he comes back after a shower," said Nicholas.
Eileen put on a very serious face and said: "Listen, boys, here are your bottles. You drink it and go to sleep. It's way past your bedtime! I really shouldn't have given you all those candies," she added in a whisper, sitting on the bed.
Severus left his room dressed in comfortable clean clothes, his hair still wet from the shower, and walked into his mother's room.
"What do you want in here, Severus?" whispered Eileen.
"I just..." his eyes fell on the two little boys sleeping beside her, "I told them I'd come back..." he stopped near the bed, looking at the kids.
"I must ask you to leave the room, son. Florence won't be happy to know that I let you get near the boys."
"And she's right," Severus nodded, looking exhausted, "Can I just watch them sleep for a while? I feel strangely at peace near them..."
Eileen hid her surprise and nodded.
"Why are they here? Where's Florence?" he asked, sitting down on the foot of the bed, his eyes on the kids.
"Lily gave birth a few weeks ago. Flor's helping her friend with baby Harry," Eileen looked at her him, she knew something wasn't right, "What's bothering you, son?"
"I really don't know, mum." he paused, "Call it regret. Or guilt. All I know is that it's getting harder every day..."
"What will you do?" she murmured.
"I still don't know. I can't just stop working for the Dark Lord. He'd order his followers to hunt me down and kill me. But I can't join the Order either... no one would accept me."
"Go talk to Dumbledore, son," she said, "He'll listen to you."
"I'm not sure what to tell him," he admitted.
"Tell him the truth. Give him the right reason for your regret... tell him how much you wish for redemption... how much you want..."
"Florence," Snape completed, "She's my biggest reason. I can't stand all the conspirations and killings, I hate to witness all those things... but being away from her has become unbearable."
"Dumbledore believes in the power of love, my son, Tell him you still love her and that you can't be away from her any longer. Maybe once you've proven your true intentions, Florence will come back to you. I know she still loves you," Eileen finished in a hopeful whisper.
Severus looked at his mother and said nothing, feeling she had more to tell him. When she didn't say anything else, he looked at the two sleeping boys again, smiling.
"They're beautiful, aren't they?" Eileen asked, smiling as well, "I'm glad Florence lets me be their grandma."
"Yes. I always feel better every time I see them. I feel calmer," he let out a sigh, "Since the first time I saw them, I noticed this strange power they have over me, they even help keep my nightmares at bay. I think it's because they share Florence's blood and she's connected to me through the Enchantment..."
"That's probably the reason, yes," murmured Eileen, getting nervous with that talk.
He feels it! He feels something but can't really name it. Just like the boys always feel when he's near, as if they recognize his magic as their father's.
"I'll go back to my room," Severus got up and kissed his mother's forehead, "Tell them I was here, will you?"
"Yes, my son. Good night."
When Severus closed her bedroom door, Eileen put her hand on her chest, feeling how fast her heart was beating.
He feels the connection! There's still hope!
Severus reached his bedroom and lay down on his bed, feeling exhausted to the bones.
He just wanted it all to stop; all the pain and the fights and that stupid war.
He knew he had consciously chosen that path, but he had never imagined it would be as bad as it was.
It seemed his soul was being ripped apart piece by piece after each raid he took part in and each poison he finished.
He was paid to prepare potions that he knew were used to kill hundreds of innocent muggles – and he had risked everything by altering the last batches, making them not so strong so they wouldn't kill everybody. Now those people with stronger metabolisms could survive, but they would suffer anyway and some might end up with permanent damages.
Of course Severus would be tortured for those imperfect batches – but he felt that if some people survived, it would be worth it.
He sighed and looked at the nightstand, at the framed picture that was always there: Florence and he, hugging; her beautiful smile as she looked up at him.
He turned on his back and stared at the ceiling for a second before closing his eyes, thinking about her kids again; the two sweet little boys that were looking at him with curiosity less than an hour ago.
Severus smiled, startling himself and feeling something in his chest move – the heavy burden on his shoulders seeming to have lessened.
And right then it didn't matter anymore that those kids were Black's children – those boys were Florence's, whom he loved, so he would take care of them as if they were his sons.
Severus was going to talk to Dumbledore the next day; he was going to fight for his redemption.
He sighed happily, a smile on his face, the twin boys never leaving his thoughts; he felt his heart beating more calmly and, for the first time, the future looked promising.
Unknowingly, Severus had defeated the thick poison of darkness that was slowly eating away at his body and soul.
Little did he know, he had just been saved, saved by two little boys in pretty pyjamas that had looked at him with curiosity.
He had been saved by his own sons.