Thanks once again to everyone that has reviewed! I really am trying to get these chapters typed up. Football season is almost over so I'll have more time (I hope). The other chapter has already been started. Thanks for your patience.
And thanks to my faithful beta, Badbugz.
Chapter twenty two- Unwelcome Discovery
"I'm really going to get old doing this," Darian muttered as he took another gulp from the steaming goblet he held, nearly gagging on the taste. It was a week until the full moon, which was coming early this month.
"Yes, well you get used to it," Remus said cheerfully, having already consumed his dosage. "It will become a routine soon enough, you'll see."
Darian watched the remaining contents of his potion with a look of apprehension. "But the taste never numbs, does it?"
"Well, I have been taking the Wolfsbane for over twenty years and it still tastes horrible," Remus said thoughtfully, "but it does get easier."
Darian muttered something rather rude into his goblet as he took another tiny sip.
"What was that?"
"Nothing, nothing…"
"If you are finished, Lupin, it would be deeply appreciated that you would remove your presence from my office so we may begin our lesson," Snape said moodily from where he sat at his desk, watching the two werewolves through narrowed eyes.
"Since you asked so kindly, Severus," Remus said pleasantly, knowing it would irk the Potion's Master.
"Leave Lupin," Snape snapped, pointing to the door. "You have had your dose and we have no need for you."
Darian frowned over at his father, finishing the last drop of his potion with a grimace.
"Good luck, Darian," Remus said pityingly. "You're going to need it with Severus being as crabby as he's been lately." He pulled open the door and left before Snape could make a nasty retort.
Severus shook his head forcefully, feeling a tendril of exhaustion reach out for him. "Wand out," he said tiredly, fighting back a yawn and wanting nothing more for the boy to leave so he could sleep.
Darian set the empty goblet down and looked across the desk at his father in concern. "Professor, are you alright?"
"I'm fine."
"Are you sure-"
"My health is none of your concern!" Snape spoke with a bit more force then he intended to.
Darian didn't flinch, Severus noted with a small feeling of pride, but narrowed his eyes in a similar way he had mere moments ago.
"You haven't been getting enough sleep," he stated wisely, obviously recognizing the symptoms through personal experience. "You've been having dreams haven't you? Nightmares?"
Severus heaved a frustrated sigh, mentally berating himself for showing the slightest bit of weakness in front of his son. The damn boy was far too observant for a sixteen year-old.
"Just get your wand out, Darian," he said wearily, standing and walking past the desk so he was standing in front of the boy.
Darian, however, was adamant. "Was it about Voldemort?"
"Get your damn wand out and shut up!" Snape barked. His head was pounding because of the boy's consistent nosiness.
Darian did flinch and took a small step back, looking confused at the force of his words. Severus closed his eyes briefly, telling himself that taking his annoyance out on the boy wasn't the best thing that could be done.
"I apologize," he said quietly, the word sounding foreign to his lips yet he found himself saying it more in front of Darian. He turned away from the boy, feeling a surge of guilt streak through him as he realized how much he had been avoiding his son lately.
'When did I ever feel guilty about anything?' he asked himself.
"It's okay," Darian spoke from behind him. "I….know how you feel. I know how annoying it is for someone to pester you constantly about your well-being," he murmured, looking dejected.
Severus said nothing, marveling at how the boy always seemed to make his insides writhe with guilt without meaning to in just the span of a few words. Was it because of the dreams he was having? Was it because he felt guilty about wanting to dream about the other Darians rather then spend time with him?
'What the hell is wrong with me?' he asked himself again.
"Wand out," he said in a softer tone. He turned back around to find that Darian already had his wand raised, his features both determined and apprehensive.
"We haven't been making a lot of progress," Severus continued hesitantly, "and I know you probably haven't practiced which is understandable considering that we haven't has lessons for a while…"
"I practice every night," Darian interrupted. "But I don't think I'm doing it right," he muttered sullenly.
Severus nodded, a bit surprised, and raised his wand. "We'll see then, won't we? Legilimens!"
Instantly, a rush of memories and emotions that weren't his overcame Severus.
He was reminded of his last attempt at Occulmency with Darian; a shiver ran down his spine at the thought of the boy's blank emerald eyes.
A memory appeared of a six year-old Harry Potter nodding off on a couch beside an old woman, Severus recognized her as Arabella Figg, with a thick picture album showing a different variety of cats open on his lap. Snape nearly found himself smiling as he stared at the snoozing little boy whose glasses were drooping off one ear.
The memory shifted and he was once again speeding through his son's ribbon of memories, mentally willing the boy to concentrate.
A ten year-old Harry was sitting, trembling in a tree on a farm of some sort while several vicious looking dogs (one he recognized from Darian's memories the year before) snapped at the boy's foot hanging dangerously within reach while an incredibly large woman boomed at the child in fury.
Severus felt a week push against his mind and an instant before the memory shifted again, he could nearly make out Darian's form near the base of the tree. He felt a small twinge of pride as he realized that the boy obviously had been practicing.
Another memory shift and Severus found himself in the Department of Mysteries. He took in the scene before him: Harry was laying on his stomach, his body terrifyingly limp and his breathing coming out in harsh rasps. Dumbledore was a few feet in front of him, standing with his wand out, his blue eyes darting around the room. There was no twinkle in them,
"Kill me now, Dumbledore…." A voice that made the hairs on Severus's neck rise echoed through the chamber. Dumbledore whirled around to the source of the noise, as did Severus. He was surprised to find that the Dark Lord's voice was coming from Harry's mouth and was dimly aware of Darian's form beginning to appear a few feet from beside him.
"If death is nothing, Dumbledore, then kill the boy…" The Dark Lord hissed from Harry's mouth. Severus faltered, not having any time to react to a quick, "Protego!" spoken from behind him. Suddenly, he was engulfed in his own memories:
"Please, Father!" a six year-old Severus sobbed as he was shoved forcefully into the cold basement that he was often locked in for punishment. "Get in there you little shit! And don't let me hear a peep until morning!" his father bellowed before slamming the door shut, and Severus was plunged into darkness…
He was sixteen, kneeling into the shin-deep snow at a shiny gravestone reading, "Eileen Elizabeth Prince Snape Beloved Wife and Mother." Tears trailed silently down his pale cheeks and splashed onto the headstone, melting away tiny dots of snow. And from afar, a figure with dark red hair approached and knelt beside him, wrapping a soothing arm around his shaking shoulders…
He was eighteen, gazing into Lily Evans's green eyes wistfully. "Marry me," he whispered, bringing her hands up to his lips…
Severus tried to clear his mind of the rising emotions that had risen at the sight of the memories that had so long since been forgotten. He found it a little more difficult though, and knew at once that he was out of practice.
An image of a four year-old Darian rose to his mind and what tender grasp he had on his emotions crumbled at the sight of the boy that could have been his.
"I find it sad that you would so easily give up your own son in replacement of these fantasies that can never happen. These Darians are not yours!" Dumbledore snapped, his blue eyes holding no warmth.
Snape recalled the statement from the conversation they had had earlier that day. He was just about to push the boy completely from his mind when the image of Dumbledore's angry face dissolved and Severus found himself back in his office. His knees buckled but he managed to regain his balance easily.
Darian was standing in the exact spot he had been before the spell, his emerald eyes staring at Snape piercingly.
Severus gave him a nod. "Well done," he praised quietly, letting a small amount of pride creep into his voice. Darian continued to stare up at him and Severus noticed for the first time how ashen the boy's face was. He frowned, wondering if the Darian's success had taken up all of his magical energy.
"Do you need a Pepper-Up potion before we try again?" he asked. Darian shook his head with a bit more force to just be a negative answer.
"You…." Darian croaked and paused, clearing his throat. "You….your dreams. They're about…" he paused again and Severus felt his heart stop. Had the boy seen the last parts of his memory? The look on Darian's face told him clearly that indeed he had.
There was a long moment of silence in which they merely stared at one another. Snape opened his mouth to say something, but was unsure of what to say.
Finally, Darian whispered, "I'm sorry I'm not one of them." His gaze bore into Snape's dark eyes and he lowered his head, staring at the floor. "Believe me, I'd have given anything to have been raised by two parents who loved me," Darian continued, his eyes shining oddly. He swallowed and shook his head, closing his eyes.
"I'm sorry I'm not perfect," he said in a trembling voice. "I'm sorry I'm not perfect like them." His head shot up and he stared at Severus, who was frozen like a deer caught in headlights. "I'm never going to be good enough for you, am I?" he asked, his hurt seeping through the harsh words.
"Listen to me," Severus found his voice. "Just listen, they are just dreams-"
"Yes," Darian interrupted quietly. "They are just dreams-your dreams, or should I say your fantasies?"
Severus cleared his throat. "No, it's not like that-"
"Then what?" Darian asked sharply, his voice tight. "Is that why you've been brushing me off? Avoiding lessons that were 'oh-so-important-for-the-precious-boy-who-lived's-survival-but-are-not-near-as-important-as-your-fantasies-about-a-boy-who-doesn't-exist?'"
Severus opened his mouth and bared his teeth, feeling irritation boiling inside at the boy's mocking tone. "I do care about your survival you stupid boy!"
"But your precious dreams are more important?" Darian said bitingly, sneering. "By the way, lovely way to express your care for my survival! I was constantly called 'stupid boy' during my oh so wonderful childhood that you know nothing about!"
"I will not be spoken to like that by a-" Snape cut himself off, biting his tongue and silently counting to ten.
"By a what?" Darian demanded. "Go on, say it! Say what you've wanted to say for months and yet haven't been able to because of Dumbledore! You're scared Dumbledore will be displeased and you'll feel like a rejected, unwanted boy who-"
"Shut up you bloody werewolf!" Severus roared at the top of his lungs, taking an intimidating step forward.
Darian's red face drained of the color he had retained during his rant and he stared at his father with a lost expression. Snape took a steadying breath.
"You hate me because I'm a werewolf," Darian stated faintly. "Why didn't I see it before?" he asked himself in a weakly comical voice.
Severus cleared his throat again, feeling uncomfortable. "Don't take it as an insult," he snapped, pushing the feeling aside viciously. "You are a werewolf after all…"
Darian looked at him for a moment before saying indifferently, "Goodbye, Professor," and storming out of the room, slamming the door.
Severus stood by himself for a moment, giving his mind time to catch up with what had just occurred. He took a deep, angry breath as he realized what had just transpired. 'I've done it again,' he told himself, but forced himself not to feel any remorse. What was done was done, and nothing could change it.
Feeling quite exhausted by the long evening and knowing he should get some rest before Dumbledore stormed in, yelling at him about the boy's complaints, he entered his rooms and collapsed lifelessly in his bed. He didn't even bother to occlude his mind.
&&&&&&&&&&&
He gratefully entered the town of Hogsmeade, glad to have finally approached something familiar. It had been a long day and the sun was just starting to sink below the horizon, casting a gold glow over the small village, matching the colors of autumn perfectly.
"Good evening, Severus," Madame Rosemerta said as he entered the Three Broomsticks. "The usual, or something stronger perhaps? You look as if you could use it."
"No, thank you, just a gillywater," Severus said, sinking gratefully into a chair at an empty table, allowing himself to relax for the first time in days. He looked around the pub, wondering why it was so empty. Not that it had ever been as full as it once was since the war had started, but as it was Saturday, he had thought the Hogwarts students would be visiting.
At the thought of the annoying brats that he had once taught, he was reminded of Darian, who was in his last year at Hogwarts. Severus smiled wryly at the thought of seeing his family again, and despite the fact that he had only been apart from them for a little over a week, he felt as if he hadn't seen them in years. He sipped his gillywater and felt a sense of relief wash over him as he realized that he'd be able to make it to Darian's graduation this week.
"It's quiet tonight," Severus spoke to Madame Rosemerta, who was cleaning the tables unnecessarily.
She nodded and straightened up, looking at him solemnly. "Yes…terrible thing it is, really…terrible," she dabbed her eyes with a napkin and continued to clean the tables.
Severus frowned. "What's terrible?"
"Oh, I thought you knew. There was a Death Eater attack on Hogwarts yesterday." She threw him a watery smile. "It was a tragedy, indeed, but a joyous occasion. You-Know-Who's dead, Severus!"
Severus felt his insides freeze and a knot in the pit of his stomach. He slammed the empty glass down. "What?"
"Yes," she nodded. "He's gone….but there were a few losses I'm afraid…."
He felt paralyzed. He should have felt happy, overjoyed. The Dark Lord was dead. Gone. After all the years of fighting against the monster, protecting his family. It was over…it was finally over.
So why didn't he feel like celebrating?
Was Darian alright? Surely if something had happened to Darian, Lily would've informed him….. 'Ah yes,' a voice said slyly to him. 'But she couldn't get in contact with you, now could she?'
Darian's face flashed through his mind. But if the Dark Lord was dead, and Darian was the only one who could kill him then didn't that mean he was fine?
"Have you heard anything else? How many deaths?"
"Around ten," she told him softly, frowning upon realizing that Severus wasn't as happy as she would have thought.
Severus drew in a sharp breath and clutched his chest as if something had pierced it. He stood up shakily, swaying as he struggled to clear his mind. He stumbled out of the pub without paying for his gillywater, and ignored Rosemerta's angry yells as he left.
The June air was warm, yet it hit his lungs like being doused with ice water. He swayed drunkenly, telling himself firmly that he was overreacting, that somehow he'd know if something had happened to his son…somehow he would…
The new of the Dark Lord's death was mind-boggling, yet it barely registered in his mind; he'd celebrate later. First he had to find out if his son was all right.
The walk to Hogwarts had never been so long and despite the countless nights Severus had stumbled to Hogwarts to report to Dumbledore as he usually did after completing an assignment for the Order, he found himself wandering off the path quite a few times in his haste to reach his old school.
Hogwarts loomed over him as he passed through the barriers, but instead of the usual magical scene the castle always had presented in the past, it seemed dark, desolate with only the Great Hall light.
Severus grasped the brass handle and pushed the large door open. As soon as he stepped into the Entrance Hall, he felt the immediate wrongness of the place. The castle's aura had always given off a certain reassuring presence, and yet now it seemed as if a terrible sadness hung over the place like a weighted veil.
He approached the door to the Great Hall, his steps echoing off the otherwise silent corridors. Hogwarts was never this silent. There was always the laughter of the students, the murmurs of the portraits, the whispers of the ghosts, and the cackling of Peeves followed by an angry shout from a staff member (usually Filch or McGonagall), yet he heard nothing…absolutely nothing…complete silence…
It sent shiver down his spine, and Severus took a deep breath before carefully pushing the door open, only to realize that it was locked and warded. He wrapped loudly on it, wincing as his knuckles came in contact with the stone door.
Nearly Headless Nick floated through the door, his neck looking fully attached to his head.Severus found that odd; the ghost always seemed to flaunt how gruesome it looked to have one's head hanging on by a single strand of flesh.
"Who goes there?" he asked in an unusually commanding voice before setting eyes on Severus. "Professor Snape," he greeted, bowing deeply.
Severus didn't bother to correct the ghost on the fact that he wasn't a professor anymore. "Nick," he greeted quietly, nodding. "I need to get in."
Nick cleared his throat importantly. "I'm sorry, Professor, but the headmaster clearly stated that no one was allowed in for the time being."
Severus gritted his teeth, his anxiety rising, 'Darian…' "I am a member of the Order. I have just returned from a mission." He stated tightly. "He will want to see me."
"Oh?" Nick questioned, looking speculatively at him. "And how can I be sure if you are the real Severus Snape? You never know now that He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named is gone who will pop up here to take revenge. "
Severus closed his eyes, mentally telling himself that it was impossible to hex a ghost and that he should at least be grateful that Nick wouldn't let an imposter in. He took a deep breath, wracking his brain for something that would convince the idiot ghost that he was not an imposter.
"Remus Lupin almost bit me when I was in school here because of a prank Sirius Black played that nearly caused him to be expelled," Severus said through clenched teeth, practically spitting out Black's name.
Nick observed him silently. "Not everyone knew about that, but it could be easily found."
"The Order of the Phoenix's previous location was at Godric's Hollow."
Nick frowned and disappeared back through the door to the Hall. Severus leaned against the wall and waited impatiently, his insides writhing.
The door opened a little and Severus let out a sigh of relief. Dumbledore greeted him with his wand drawn, though he lowered it as he caught sight of Severus.
"It is good to see you safe, Severus," Dumbledore said, his tone very gentle, though Severus didn't notice. "Lily was frantic; what took you so long?"
"That blasted ghost," Severus snarled, throwing a poisonous look in the ghost's direction. He briefly wondered why Dumbledore didn't look happy at the news of the war's final ending. In fact, Dumbledore looked even older then Severus had ever seen him.
Dumbledore nodded and opened the door wider for Severus to step in. He stared around the hall. Hundreds of purple sleeping bags littered the stone floor. The tables were pushed to the sides; the ceiling reflected the steadily darkening sky. Students were either conversing quietly or asleep despite the early hour. He could see more then a few students crying with a random teacher trying their best to console them. He saw few happy faces, but dismissed it with the thought that the Dark Lord's death and the war's end hadn't really hit them yet, just as it hadn't hit him.
"We are sending them home when school ends in a few days, though classes have, of course, been cancele, The students are to stay in the Hall or with a teacher at all times," Dumbledore explained briefly, watching the students as a grandfather might his grandchildren.
Severus bit his lower lip, his eyes scanning the sea of purple for the familiar form of his son or even the bushy hair of one Hermione Granger, whom he was sure Darian would stick around with. He wanted desperately to ask about Darian, though he knew it would be disrespectful, and, instead, asked softly, "How many?"
Dumbledore sighed heavily. "Twelve dead, sixty three injured, the rest were lucky enough to be in their dorms at the time." He eyed his former colleague with pity; waiting for the question he knew would come.
Severus clenched his fist: Darian never stayed in his dorm… But Voldemort was dead, so he should survive, right?
He occupied his mind by searching the crowd for Lily, until he spotted her hunched silhouette near the fireplace where she was sitting on a bench, wrapped in her sleeping blanket and resting her head on the teacher's table.
His heart stopped. No. Lily would be with Darian right now…she would. She would be comforting him. Severus knew Darian would be devasted for being responsible for someone…anyone's death. Why was she alone? Unable to resist any longer, he turned to Dumbledore.
"Darian…he's…he's alright isn't he?" Severus asked slowly. He was overreacting; Darian was probably comforting one of his younger classmates…or maybe he was helping Poppy…yes…that was it…
Dumbledore avoided his glance and settled his blue gaze on the sky. Finally, he took a deep breath. "Your son fought so well, just like his father," Dumbledore said in an extremely soft voice. "He saved everyone with his strongest weapon: love. We'd all be gone right now if he had not destroyed Voldemort and now I believe every one of Voldemort's victim's souls, including Tom Riddle's, can finally be put to rest."
"Albus," Severus whispered in a shaking voice. "You didn't answer my question."
Dumbledore stared straight at him. "I wish I didn't have to say this, Severus," he whispered very gently.
Severus froze, his mind trying to come up with all the possible reasons for Dumbledore to say those nine words besides the worst. Darian was blind…or maybe he wasn't able to walk….there were plenty of things Dumbledore wouldn't like to tell him.
"After Darian killed Voldemort, Lucius Malfoy retaliated by trying to take the one thing Darian loved the most from him," he paused. "He fired the Killing Curse at Miss Granger and Darian tried to save her," Dumbledore explained very carefully, putting a wrinkled hand on either shoulder. "He took the curse for her. Darian's dead, Severus."
A/N- Tell me what you thought.