Disclaimer: Harry Potter and his world belong to J. K. Rowling. This is for fun, no copyright infringement is intended. The prophecy mentioned in this chapter is taken from "Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix" by J. K. Rowling and not mine.
Time frame: Short after Harry's birth.
- Late August, early evening, a worn little room somewhere in England
Dear Severus,
I know I should have written this letter a long time ago but I was always too cowardly, too afraid of your reaction. I guess I know your temper too well. But today I can no longer be silent. Oh, Severus, I'm a mother! Yesterday I gave birth to the most wonderful, healthy little boy in this world and we named him Harry. You cannot imagine my happiness. He is so tiny, so beautiful with his little red face and fists. How I wish you could be here right now. How I wish you could be here and see him and share my joy, it is the only thing missing to make my happiness complete. Yes, I miss you, Severus. I know I hurt you and you cannot imagine how much I regret it every day of my life but I miss you so much. I miss talking to you, gossiping with you, brewing and experimenting with you and I miss your laugh. Can you not finally forgive me? Can you not be my friend again? How I hope you have not crumpled up this letter by now and continue reading instead. As I said, I know your temper well. Severus, James wanted to tell me about that night in our sixth year but I refused to listen. I am sure you know what night I mean and please believe me if I tell you that whatever happened then is weighing heavily on his conscience. But when this story will be told it will be you I will listen to. It will be your side I will hear and no other. And if it is as bad as I fear it was then I will have some VERY chosen words for my husband or anybody else involved. You know I will. Severus, I know you think I betrayed you but in a way I was betrayed by my own heart. As I tried to tell you (not very skilful, I fear) I did not choose to fall in love. It just happened somehow. But I never ever wanted to hurt you. Please, Severus, please answer to this letter. I can not stand the silence any longer. These are dark times and I fear for you. I fear for all of us. We were so close once. Too close to repeat the mistakes of the past. Slytherin and Gryffindor. Do you remember? Do you? I hope you are safe wherever you are and that you will at least think about the things I just said. I don't know when these lines will reach you but I told Polly (my owl) not to come back until she delivered them. I hope it will be soon.
Lots of love,
Lily
Severus Snape snorted and shook his head. This was so typically Lily. Ever the optimist. A moment he tapped the small roll of parchment in his left palm then he flung it abruptly across the room so it hit the door and fell onto the worn floor. Flopping back against the headboard of the knobbly bed he bit his lips in anger.
Anger at her for writing this letter and unearthing a buried past. Old anger at that insufferable Potter who had charmed her and blinded her and always got what he wanted without doing anything. Anger at that darn light-footed barman of the Hog's Head who had caught him eavesdropping at Dumbledore's door and ruined his chances of a job at Hogwarts. Anger at the other Death Eater's of his circle for the Schadenfreude in their eyes as the Dark Lord had sent him away. Anger at this STUPID, unbearable room in this stupid, unbearable inn where he was forced to bide his time until his punishment was over. But most of all it was anger at himself, at that tiny little spot deep down in his heart that had warmed so traitorously at reading that it would be his side of the story with the werewolf she would listen to first.
Snape rolled off the bed and started pacing in the limited space between the tiny window and the door with dangerously graceful steps. The awkward twitch that had haunted his teenage years gone with the end of his last growth spurt at eighteen. It was a deep satisfaction that he now stood taller than most men although not as tall as some and the only inheritance of his father he really valued. Bracing his hands on the window sill he took a deep breath of sticky air of an early night, ignoring the less than pleasant smell of fish and chips invading his nostrils and the noise of people down in the street.
It could not be much longer now. The Dark Lord had been pleased when he brought him the prophecy, pleased enough to refrain from putting him under a Cruciatus curse for not getting the teacher position. That he had excluded him from his presence had been for show, for the rest of THEM who now felt so superior. But they were wrong. Snape smiled darkly. They were wrong. Had not the Dark Lord even praised him for being so thoughtful and telling him the prophecy in secret? Oh, yes, they were wrong and he was right and when he was back HE would smile behind his mask. This was far from the end. This was the beginning. And he didn't need anybodies help to make his way least of all Lily's.
Pushing off the window Snape once more strode across the room and picked up the small roll of parchment.
Answer to this letter. Lily must be out of her mind probably still in some sort of post-natal confusion or such. She used to be an intelligent girl a pity marriage seemed to have taken away her brain. Well, with a husband like Potter ... but she had chosen her destiny. Unfortunate she had chosen the wrong side in this fight too but what else could you expect from a Gryffindor. They might be accomplished or even outstanding witches or wizards but they lacked any sensibility when it came to real power.
Snape's eyes looked dreamily and for a moment a strange, almost beautiful smile played around the corner of his mouth.
Power. To feel it flow through your body, through your wand, bend to your will and your will alone, making you unassailable, putting the worries of the world far below you. To have access to the must valued secrets of the wizarding world, smooth pages of ancient volumes under your fingertips, the knowledge of generations and generations at your service and command. The Dark Arts, to fight mind against mind, ability against ability and to keep the upper hand by always being one step ahead THAT was power; raw, pure, untamed power and he loved it. He craved it. And he would get it. The Dark Lord had promised.
Snape shook his head and came back out of his reverie then looked again down at the letter in his hand. Once Lily had understood all this or at least as long as it was about potions. She had always made kind of a fuss when she didn't agree with some of his spells. But now her opinion didn't matter any longer. He glanced at the date. First of August, three weeks, no wonder the owl had looked thoroughly harassed... The first of August.
He stood frozen in the middle of the room.
If the letter had been written first of August then the boy had been born ... the last day in July or ... as the seventh month dies.
The letter dropped from his suddenly nerveless fingers.
No. No, no, no, NO. Lily.
Severus swayed and barely caught himself against the wall then slowly sank to his knees. Pressing one hand to his stomach in a vain attempt to fight the stab of pain that shot through him like a knife.
He would kill her. He would kill her and the boy and Potter too just for good measure, he simply knew he would, they stood no chance against the power of the Dark Lord... And he had been PROUD to tell his master about the prophecy! HE had told him, HE had not some unknown person, not some coincidence or twist of fate, HE had, so this was...
My fault. The dreaded sentence shattered the walls he had built so carefully around his memories. This is my fault. Severus doubled over, old emotions stinging in his throat, choking him. MY fault! Again.
His hand slammed on the floor to break his fall and hit something stiff and round that gave way under his weight. The letter. And for a fleeting moment he heard Lily's voice again, whispering his name over the distance of time and space, calling him once more back from the dark abyss in his soul. Opening his eyes Severus stared at the dirty floorboards directly in front of his nose then slowly turned his head until he could see the flattened roll of parchment under his palm. Slytherin and Gryffindor. He did remember. Yes, he did. Drawing a shuddering breath, he curled his fingers around the mutilated little scroll and sat up.
He had to warn her. There was no question about that. And he had to do it now. Maybe it was not too late, maybe the birth had not been advertised in the Daily Prophet and the Dark Lord had not heard of it yet or had not decided his next step. Maybe there was still time to find her and... And do what?
Severus closed his eyes with a grimace and ran a shaking hand through his hair. Yes, and do what? Look her in the eye and tell her that he had submitted her life and the life of her son and family to the Dark Lord? No. No, his self-esteem would never allow that. Not because of the blame or the accusations or the anger; he deserved them and that storm would pass quickly as was her temper. But because of the hurt she would be trying to hide from him afterwards. Because he would not be able to bear the forgiveness he knew he would find in her green eyes.
But where could he go to if not Lily?
Potter? No. For nothing in the world would he grant him that triumph; not him, not Black, not Lupin or that joke Pettigrew. Besides, he would have to fight them first and while he would simply love to nail them against the next wall he did not have time for that. The Ministry? A bunch of incompetent idiots or traitors in the Dark Lord's pocket. Even if he happened to find an upright Auror he would probably be tied up and on his way to Azkaban before he had finished his third sentence. And the so called Order of the Phoenix? That was not more than a gathering of idealistic daydreamers with a tendency to be a nuisance for Death Eaters having some fun... Except ONE man maybe. One man.
Severus hesitated. For a moment animosity fought against fear, anger against lack of time, old wounded pride against guilt. The letter burned his hand. Gritting his teeth he got to his feet, grabbed his wand and Disapparated.
- Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, main gate
Cool night air of a mild northern summer caressed his face when he regained his vision and immediately the throbbing pull of the book washed over him, humming in his veins. Far away in the Forbidden Forest cried some hidden predator. Severus lowered his arms and looked up at the winged boars on top of the high pillars. Then his eyes wandered slowly past the strong gate, across the empty grounds, to find the huge, majestic shadow of the castle, hovering by the lake like a great patient animal. In the distance the nightly hunter cried again and then was silent.
The pale gravel of the road ground loudly under his feet as Severus reluctantly stepped forward and lifted his hand but stopped just before he could touch the cold iron bars of the gate. Only few lit windows twinkled like winking eyes in the dark front of the castle. Hogwarts black towers were outlined against the star-littered sky where a thin moon had just risen behind the surrounding mountains, dark and distant and unapproachable. All but one, crowned by a diadem of blazing lights.
Looking down abruptly Severus narrowed his eyes at the heavy chains that wound around the two wings of the gate, holding them together. His expression became thoughtful as he ran the tip of his wand along their length, careful not to make any physical contact with the enchanted metal. Once more he glanced up at the winged boars on top of the pillars. Their staring stone eyes seemed to watch him in stoic silence. Coming to a decision he slowly withdrew a few steps until he stood about six feet away then flicked his wand.
The small hex rebounded from the gate with a strange metallic BANG and would have hit him straight in the chest if not for the silvery shield he had conjured immediately after releasing it. A long moment he stood and listened, keeping a watchful eye on the castle. No sound disturbed the silence. The windows still winked serenely. After half a minute Severus shrugged and started throwing one harmless little hex after the other against the protective spells on the gate which bounced off in various directions. Soon he became slightly irritated. Was everybody inside either asleep or completely incompetent? One would think they had noticed him by now and...
He felt the presence behind him but it was already too late: His arms and legs snapped together with irresistible force and he toppled forward, experiencing a shocked moment of cold fear what the impact would do to his nose or - much more important - his wand when his fall slowed abruptly. The next second his rigid body had started rotating in mid-air, lifting his stomach rather uncomfortably and finally he landed almost gently on his back. Unable to move a muscle except his eyes.
"I have to say, Mr Snape," said a cold, controlled voice with an underlying fury that made his hair stand on end, "that I already thought your manners rather regrettable the last time we met. I am even more disappointed to find out it wasn't an unfortunate exception. There is as bell, you know."
Dumbledore's blue eyes were blazing fire as he stepped into Severus's field of vision, wand in one hand, a teacup in the other, and suddenly he understood for the first time why so many people considered Hogwarts headmaster the most powerful wizard of modern times.
Concealed rage radiating from his every move Dumbledore first stowed the teacup somewhere in his wide flowing robes and then bent down to pluck the wand out of Severus's stiff fingers. His mouth under the gleaming white beard became thin as he brushed his fingertips lightly along the smooth wood. Putting the wand away too he raised his own and started waving it quickly but deliberately above his prisoner's body, starting by the toes and inching upwards, while all the time keeping a watchful eye on his surroundings. He lingered a bit over the spot where Severus's left arm was pinned to his side then moved further up and finally rested the wand tip lightly against the immobile jaw before tapping it commandingly.
"Explain yourself."
Severus involuntarily drew a gasping breath as frozen muscles slackened abruptly then swallowed hastily.
"One with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches." The words seem to ring ominously in the nightly silence, an echo of the harsh, hoarse tone of the seer who had spoken them. "Born to those who have thrice defied him. Born as the seventh month dies." He stared up into Dumbledore's frighteningly blue eyes. "I know who the Dark Lord will go after."
For a long, long heartbeat Dumbledore's gaze bored into him and he steeled himself for the same pain he had felt the only time the Dark Lord had tried to break through his mental walls. Up to this day he did not know if he had succeeded for he had woken only hours later with a splitting headache and weak as a child. Up to this day he did not know that he had been inches from dying when Voldemort had stopped his assault. But the pain never came.
Then Dumbledore said calmly: "I think we better continue this conversation in a more private place."
Taking out the teacup again he rapped it with his wand and then crouched down and touched it lightly to his still rigid prisoner's chest. The next second Severus felt the familiar tug of a Portkey just behind his navel, the world turned upside down in a whirling storm wind and then the back of his head hit the floor again for the second time this evening, only considerably harder. Suppressing a groan he blinked, squinted against the sudden bright light and became abruptly aware of the excited muttering and whispering all around him. He lifted his head, gasped audibly in disbelieve and sat up with a jerk, staring up at the tall wizard who stood towering over him.
"THIS you call private?"
Dumbledore regarded him with a cool look then glanced at the rows and rows of portraits of former headmasters and headmistresses along his office walls, all wide awake and talking among each other or even pointing with their fingers.
"The portraits in this office are bound to serve the Headmasters of Hogwarts. None of them is able to reveal anything they have witnessed in here without his or her leave." He strode over to his desk, set the teacup down on a tray with a white teapot with bright red dots on it then placed Severus's wand beside it. Turning back he once more considered his unexpected visitor with unreadable eyes. "But I can see you are not convinced. Very well. Silencio Totalus!"
Severus had never heard the spell pronounced like this nor ever seen such a complicated wand pattern accompanying it. And certainly he had never witnessed such an extraordinary and instantaneous effect. Still sitting on the floor he slowly turned his head and looked around the circular room.
The curious silvery instruments were still spinning and puffing serenely on their spindle-legged tables but there was no sound. The rows of portraits had not only stopped talking but even moving altogether, were immobile and lifeless like the Muggle photographs his father used to show him when he was young and his mother had always scoffed at.
He looked back at the enigmatic wizard in front of the enormous desk who still watched him with intense attention. Even as a child Severus had never asked "How did you do that?" no matter how much he had wanted to. At home he had soon known better than to ask questions likely to provoke a new argument between his parents, they had argued often enough as it was. At Hogwarts he had first been too shy to acknowledge his ignorance, then too careful to admit his interest and finally too proud to take advice in front of others. But darn it, sometimes it was really hard. He stood up.
"So," Dumbledore finally broke the unnatural silence, his voice still calm and controlled. "You did hear the prophecy. Aberforth was not sure about the timing after he caught you."
"Yes, I did," answered Severus rather shortly. He did not like to think of that moment. The old goat had not only been amazingly light-footed but had had surprisingly strong hands too. The marks had shown for almost a week.
"And what exactly do you think you heard?" Dumbledore continued with dangerous softness.
Severus cocked an eyebrow. "I already told you what Trelawney said, although I would have never thought a true seer could be hiding under that ridiculous behaviour after seeing her downstairs. There's little room for interpretation in three short sentences, isn't there?"
For a heartbeat he thought he saw some kind of emotion flicker in Dumbledore's guarded eyes. Something that could have been relief ... or maybe satisfaction. But he quickly discarded it as imagination.
"Indeed." The great old wizard nodded solemnly. "You were there on the Dark Lord's command, were you not?"
"Yes."
"And of course, you told your master what you heard."
"Yes." Severus refused to look down although he felt a painful stab of guilt at admitting what he had been proud of only a day ago.
"I imagine Lord Voldemort was pleased."
"Yes." The word felt like ash in Severus's mouth and for once he did not even flinch at the spoken name.
"I see."
Dumbledore traced the edge of the desk he was leaning against absent-mindedly with one long finger and suddenly Severus couldn't stand it any longer. Anxiety made his tongue sharp.
"Stop beating about the bush, Dumbledore. You know exactly that the Dark Lord will go after James Potter's son as soon as he has heard of his birth if that did not already happen."
"Will he?" A white eyebrow rose calmly. "What makes you so sure about it since you obviously did not have this piece of information from your master himself?"
Severus snorted. "Oh, please. As the seventh month dies - the 31st July - it's pretty clear, isn't it?"
"Yes, one would think so, wouldn't one? Unfortunately two boys were born at the end of July."
"Two-?" Severus choked out, his head reeling with confusion and a sudden, terrible hope. "Who else?"
"You will understand that I by no means intend to tell you."
Severus didn't even notice the blunt insult. The wild, unexpected hope he had felt for one wonderful moment left him as quickly as it had come, leaving behind despair even deeper and more bottomless than what he had felt before. He buried his face in his hands and shook his head.
"No. No, whoever the other one is he will go after the Potter boy. I know it."
"And why?"
Severus threw back his head and his bark of laughter sounded shrill and hysterical in his own ears. "Because it would be a miracle if fate missed this opportunity to spit in my face!"
Silent reigned after his outburst. Dumbledore stood very still in front of the large desk, like a man afraid of driving a shy animal to a headless flight that might well cost its life. Severus did not notice it. He did not look at the other wizard. His hands shook visibly as he ran them through his greasy hair in an attempt to get a grip on his emotions.
"I must admit," Dumbledore said finally after long minutes, "that I have some problems believing you care so much for James and his family that you would go against the man you took as master to save them from death."
"You are right. I do not care about James Potter." Severus dropped his hands and lifted his gaze. "Neither do I care about his offspring."
Endless seconds old, experienced blue eyes met fathomless black ones. Then Severus slowly reached inside his robes and pulled out the letter. Pressing his lips together he held it out to the other man.
Dumbledore's eyebrows rose slightly at the mangled state the small roll of parchment was in but he made no comment. Unrolling the letter carefully, he straightened it as good as possible and read it first once and then a second time. He breathed slowly through his nose. Rolling the wrinkled parchment again to a tight scroll he turned it several times in his long, bony fingers before he placed it finally with excessive care on his desk and looked back around with startling abruptness.
"Are you in love with her?"
"What?" asked Severus confused then he suddenly understood and the initial shock was quickly followed by seething anger and not a little disgust. "NO!"
And for the first time this evening Dumbledore was absolutely and completely sure to have seen an honest display of emotions on that sallow face. He quickly lowered his eyes to hide his thoughts. So not romantic love but friendship. A motive just as strong but free of the dangerous bitterness unrequited love could cause all too easily. Of course, considering that Lily was Muggle-born a true Death Eater would have been just as offended at the idea of a possible physical involvement. And equally disgusted.
"I apologize," he said quietly. "But I am curious. Why did you wait so long to take action after you received this letter? And why did you come here and did not try to contact her directly? Or did you?"
"I only got it this very evening. The owl obviously had trouble finding me. And..." Severus hesitated and swallowed. But he had come that far now he would go the entire way. "And ... she mustn't know."
"She mustn't know - what?"
"This," whispered Severus and holding out his left arm he pulled up the sleeve and concentrated until he felt the familiar burning sensation as the Dark Mark grew visible. Looking anywhere but at the other wizard he only heard the faint rustle of robes as Dumbledore stepped closer and adjusted his glasses for a better look. Severus forced his voice to be calm and neutral as he continued.
"Only those who have sworn eternal loyalty to the Dark Lord are granted the Dark Mark on their skin. Only those have the right to call themselves Death Eaters. No one can see it except another of Lord Voldemort's true followers or the man or woman wearing it allows it. The Dark Lord can summon us to him through the Mark. When it burns black we are to appear before him immediately."
"An intriguing alteration of a basically simple spell, no doubt," commented Dumbledore evenly. "And of course I see the point in concealing it from anybody outside Voldemort's inner circle. I guess it would be too easy if we only had to pull up a sleeve to determine a person's true loyalty."
Severus looked up from adjusting his robes. Meeting the other man's eyes he gave a surprised little huff. "You noticed something. Earlier, outside, when you waved your wand over me."
"Yes, indeed I did." Dumbledore smiled slightly. "Or rather I sensed some kind of dark magic in that place but then I am an exceptionally accomplished wizard."
For once Severus felt not inclined to scowl at such open boasting.
"Well?" he asked after several moments of silence rather impatiently. "Will you not finally do something after all I told you?"
Dumbledore stopped tapping his lips and gave the younger man a mild look. "And what exactly do you expect me to do?"
A second Severus just stared at the older wizard as if he had gone mad.
"Warn her!" he finally demanded furiously. "They must hide, maybe even leave Britain completely and find a safe place on the continent. He will kill them on the spot if he ever gets his hands on them!"
"First of all, of course they have already moved to as safe a place as possible directly after little Harry's birth," Dumbledore responded still calmly but with a hint of reprimand in his voice, "And second am I very well aware of Voldemort's intentions. Unfortunately there is little I can do about that."
He held up a commanding hand to stop Severus who had already opened his mouth for a heated reply.
"Anyone running away from another is in a position of sever disadvantage. He will be forced to react to the other one's moves instead of dictating the order of events. He will have to place false tracks in the hope of throwing the other off his heels without a chance to determine which of his actions showed effect and which not. He will never know how close his enemy is until it is almost too late. He can never be sure if not someone has betrayed his recent hiding place to unfriendly ears. While the pursuer only needs time and patience to follow any turns his prey might be taking in his despair. In the end he WILL be successful in finding them. Especially if he has as many people under his command - no matter if willingly or under the Imperius curse - as Voldemort."
Severus looked away. No matter how fervently he wanted to deny it - there was a lot of truth in the old man's words. Too much truth. The Dark Lord would be like a bloodhound on the scent of a wounded stag; wherever Lily and her family would turn to, it would never be far enough, never safe enough. Dumbledore and his Order of the Phoenix would not be able to protect them. How should they if they never knew where Death Eaters would appear next, burning down this house, murdering that family, gone most of the time before anyone could arrived on the scene, leaving only the Dark Mark hanging in the sky. And right then Severus saw the only possible solution.
"What," he asked slowly although he already knew the answer, "would a person on the run need to even the odds?"
"Information," Dumbledore said promptly, not the least surprised by the question. "About his pursuer's knowledge, his intentions, his next steps. Any of his actions even if they seem to have nothing to do with his search. A warning if he seems ready to strike or any of his followers."
Severus closed his eyes and chuckled mirthlessly, wondering a bit how on earth he had ended up in this spot. But the decision was already made. It had been made years ago, he just never knew it.
"All right," he said with forced calm. "All right. Yes, I will be your spy. This is what you have been working at the entire time, is it not? But yes, you will get your information. I am not allowed face to face with the Dark Lord at the moment because of my little mishap at the Hog's Head but I meet regularly with other Death Eater's of my group and there is always gossip although we are not supposed to communicate outside the circle we have been assigned to."
Dumbledore slowly stroked his beard while regarding the pale young man in front of him with a thoughtful look. And he neither missed the suppressed hatred in his impenetrable obsidian eyes nor the slight but visible tremble of fury that shook the slender form.
"I am in a pretty bad fix here, Mr Snape," he finally acknowledged almost conversationally. "I do want your services, yes. On the other hand I am not sure if I can trust you. You see, your mental walls are extraordinary and I find myself unable to decide if you are being truthful - or the world's best actor. Anything you said this evening could be exactly what you told me. But it could also be a very, very clever plot of your master to place a spy in my ranks. Oh, I am sure you were friends with Lily once and I do not doubt she still considers you as such. I'm just not sure if you do too. Or if her well-meant letter was simply too good an opportunity."
By the end of this little speech Severus was biting his lips so hard he tasted blood. He was nearly beside himself with self-righteous anger but at the same time once more unable to deny the prudence of Dumbledore's caution. He was a Death Eater. He had pledged his life and death to the Dark Lord. Fighting down his temper he took a harsh breath.
"How can I persuade you of my honesty?"
"Lower your walls."
"Never."
Deadly determination radiated off this one word and involuntarily Dumbledore wondered how Tom had reacted to such a flat refusal. Because it was no question that this young man would allow absolutely no one to use Legilimency on him. Considering his history it wasn't really a surprise. He shrugged with more carelessness than he felt.
"Then I don't see how we could reach an agreement."
"I could give you my word."
"That - I'm afraid - would not be enough under the current circumstances."
"And if I give you more than my word?"
Millions and millions of possibilities and considerations no one would ever know seemed to pass behind Dumbledore's unreadable eyes as they stood there and looked at each other. Then the great old wizard turned abruptly and strode to the large fireplace. Taking a pinch of Floo powder out of a box on the mantelpiece he threw it into the fire that instantly roared up green.
"Gideon! Would you please interrupt your search for a moment and step over?"
The flames roared up even higher and the next second the blurred figure of a man appeared in them, revolving very fast. The next second a short, plumb wizard with greying hair was climbing out of the fireplace.
"I don't know, Dumbledore," he grumbled while brushing soot off his robes, "I think I'll never understand Madam Pince's system in the Restricted Section. Every time I think I should find a book in one part I find it in the opposite direction." Then he noticed Severus and stopped short.
"Gideon, I must ask you to keep silent about anything you will witness in this room," Dumbledore said evenly, "Including and especially in front of any Order member. Even Fabian."
Gideon Prewett's eyebrows rose slightly but he nodded. "As you wish, Dumbledore."
"Very well." Dumbledore moved back across the room until he stood directly in front of Severus who had watched the exchange warily. Their eyes met and locked. Dumbledore's voice was still carefully controlled. "Will you please take out your wand, Gideon. Mr Snape here will make an Unbreakable Vow."
This time Prewett's brows nearly disappeared in his hairline. His intelligent eyes jumped quickly from the tall leader of the Order of the Phoenix to the angry looking young man with appalling greasy hair and back again. It spoke for his self-control that he swallowed any questions he undoubtedly had, drew his wand and walked over to stand to the side of the unequal pair.
"Kneel and clasp hands," he commanded quietly.
For a second nobody moved then Dumbledore and Severus got down almost in the same motion, an onlooker would not have been able to tell who bent his knee first. But they both knew and it was another thing that would not be forgotten. They clasped hands and the older Prewett brother could see the force of that grip, could see skin go white under pressing fingers. Still he refrained from saying anything, only positioned his wand on the joint limbs.
"Begin."
Severus's eyes narrowed slightly as he held and answered Dumbledore's hard gaze. The older wizard breathed in.
"Will you, Severus Snape, swear that everything you have told and will ever tell me about the Dark Lord was and will be the truth?"
"I will."
A thin line of flame shot from Gideon's wand and drew a fiery circle around their clasped hands.
"And will you fight the Dark Lord and his goals and his followers, with all your ability and strength until he is utterly vanquished?"
"I will."
A second line of flame joint the first, burning brightly on their skin.
"And will you follow my orders in anything concerning the Dark Lord anytime and anywhere up to my dying day and beyond?"
For a moment Dumbledore thought he had gone too far. The obsidian eyes were suddenly ablaze with unveiled fury and hatred. He could feel the grip of the pale fingers tighten with crushing force, making their hands shake as if in fever, and fully expected to have his hand flung away the next second, the spell broken. But then the fire died in Severus's eyes.
"I will," he whispered tonelessly and a third line of fire interlinked with the others, forming a heavy, shining chain around their hands.
"The Vow is completed," Gideon finally broke the silence that had fallen like a suffocating blanket.
Severus immediately stood or rather jumped up, wrenching his hand free off Dumbledore's hold, and turned away, walked away, it was the only thing he could do other than lunge for his wand. Drawing deep irregular breaths he finally gained enough control over his flaring temper to turn back to the room.
Dumbledore stood at his desk as if nothing had happened, watching him with guarded eyes. He once more balanced the teacup on his hand. Prewett had stepped aside, his eyes moving warily back and forth between them.
"It will not be safe for you to come here too often," Dumbledore observed matter-of-factly. "I will meet you in the Forbidden Forest behind the gamekeeper's hut just outside the wards three days from now on. Then we will settle a way of contact."
Severus only nodded, not trusting his own voice.
"This will take you back to the gate." Dumbledore handed him the teacup and then his wand. "On the count of three. One, two, three..."
Severus felt the tug of the Portkey and stumbled violently as his feet hit solid ground again. Three, four, five heartbeats he only stood there while fury rose like acid bile in his throat then he threw the cup with an incoherent cry against the next pillar where it shattered into a million pieces. Trapped! Trapped for the rest of his life, and by his own doing! The fire of his anger roared up like a wild flood, threatening to consume him, and for a moment he looked wildly around to find another target for his rage. Then he thought again of Lily, the last time he had seen her, hanging out of a window of the Hogwarts Express her long red hair streaming in the wind. Inhaling deep he slowly lifted his head, searching and finding the tower with the crown of light, one window now shadowed by a dark figure.
And over the distance Dumbledore answered his gaze. A faint rustle of robes made him turn his head.
"Do you really think this wise, Dumbledore?" Gideon's voice was soft.
Dumbledore did not answer, instead looked quietly back at the now empty spot of pale gravel in front of the gate.
"The Muggles have a saying, if Arthur is to be believed," the younger wizard continued after a few minutes, "something about holding a tiger by the tail. You do not dare let go but you do not dare hold on either. There is too much anger in this young man, Dumbledore. I've got no idea how you got him to make that vow but it certainly wasn't because he believes in our fight. And Voldemort's most loyal followers are ready to die for him. We will never be safe from betrayal."
Dumbledore was silent for so long that Gideon was almost sure he would never reply. Then Hogwarts Headmaster sighed almost inaudibly.
"Let me tell you a little tale, Gideon. When I allowed Remus Lupin to come to Hogwarts I considered it a good deed but realized the gravity of my mistake within the first two years. Voldemort's power grew quicker than I had thought and so did the influence of his followers. I am not talking about those cowards hiding behind a mask. I am talking about those showing their smiling faces openly in the Ministry or other important places. The Malfoys, Macnairs or Blacks except Sirius; pure-blood families with a long list of old alliances. Yes, I had exposed myself by admitting Remus but it was too late to change anything without raising unwanted questions. I could do nothing but wait and hope that the precautions we took would be enough. And then, in his sixth year, my worst fear came true: His secret was discovered and the student who found it out nearly killed in the process. Only James's timely action prevented complete disaster."
The silence was heavy when Dumbledore paused for a moment, gazing out into the darkness. He indicated a shake of the head.
"I should have expelled Sirius for sending this other student into danger. I should probably have expelled Remus for being the danger that he was. But I could not risk drawing attention to the incident. I could not risk being replaced by the governors and losing the Order this safe place. And most of all I could not risk Voldemort taking control of Hogwarts and exposing the student to his influence. And so I sacrificed justice for the greater good and forbade this student to talk about what had occurred ... although forbade is not exactly the right expression here. I even considered Obliviating him but the boy was a surprisingly strong Occlumens already and I did not dare to cause possibly irreversible damage by breaking through his walls."
Slowly Dumbledore turned his head and met Gideon's wide eyes.
"Considering how many possible employers seem to know about Remus's handicap lately I guess Mr Snape has by now broken the spell I put him under. Nevertheless, I am not worried about his intentions. Although you are right, Gideon, the vow would not hold him if he chose to betray us. At the utmost it will give me a certain amount of control over him."
He turned further and looked across his still silent office, at his desk, at the mangled little scroll of parchment that was still lying there.
"No," he repeated softly, "the vow will not hold him. The bond that made him come to me tonight - despite his dislike, despite his just grudge, and despite the danger his action put him into ... the same bond that will ensure his loyalty ... was forged a long time ago."