Title: Unexpected Grace
Author: Cocoa-Snape
Disclaimer: I own nothing. Harry Potter belongs exclusively to JKR...she is a goddess. I am making no money from this.

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Unexpected Grace by Cocoa-Snape
Chapter 2: Not ever again...

Severus Snape remembered the summer he had arrived at Hogwarts to take over the Potions position all too well. Although he wasn't too keen on taking the job, he recognized that he had no choice – Dumbledore had offered it to him as his way out and once introduced subtly to the idea, Voldemort had ordered him to accept, believing the idea to be his own. But as it turned out, Snape soon found that returning to Hogwarts was not the burden he thought it would be, but a welcome relief, as the Dark Lord was no longer able to demand his presence at whim. With the excuse that Dumbledore would grow suspicious if he left the grounds too often, Snape was no longer required to attend the Death Eater revels. And despite the dangers he faced as a double-agent, he found that he was able to sleep for the first time in years given this reprieve.

The Dark Lord did not seem to mind Snape's absence, however. After all, Snape was assigned a much more important task than making deadly potions and attending revels, that of growing close to his greatest enemy. Had that been his real mission, Snape reflected, it would have been all too easy. Dumbledore asked him to tea entirely too often for Snape's taste, and both the tea and Dumbledore's kindness had nauseated him at first. Snape was suspicious of everything the elder wizard did, even the way he had tried to convince him to change his selection of rooms. Snape was happy with the dungeons. He had requested them because he knew that they could be most easily warded, possessing only a single entrance since they were below ground. It was ridiculous really, given the strength of Hogwarts' wards. But Snape had come to cherish the privacy that the dungeons afforded. No one ever stumbled into his rooms by accident, or on purpose for that matter.

Dumbledore, however, evidently thought the dungeons were too isolated. 'There are some spare rooms in the West Tower you might like, Severus. They have an excellent view of the lake,' Dumbledore had remarked kindly. Thinking about the proximity of the West Tower to Dumbledore's own quarters, Snape shot back cruelly, 'Why? So you can watch me, old man?' Despite the fact that he had thought his accusation true at the time, the remark sounded so horribly crude that he hated himself immediately for speaking it. The words left a bitter taste in his mouth and he felt his chest tighten when he spotted the sadness in Dumbledore's eyes, who replied simply, with no trace of malice, 'I was merely making a suggestion, Severus. You may chose your quarters as you see fit.'

The summer and the initial few months of his first term as a Professor were, to put it mildly, chaotic. He was arrested three different times in Death Eater raids and Alastor Moody had very reluctantly released him upon Dumbledore's insistence that he was indeed a spy for the Order of the Phoenix. After Voldemort's unexpected defeat, Moody had come calling almost immediately for his arrest. Dumbledore had staunchly refused, and soon thereafter, Fudge himself was on his doorstep, citing regulations and 'proper procedure.'

Snape heard Dumbledore arguing with Fudge on many an occasion over the days that followed. The snippets of conversation he overheard left him stunned as to Dumbledore's unwavering faith in him. But Fudge was not to be dissuaded and told Dumbledore in no uncertain terms that he would be arriving with Aurors the next day to take him to Azkaban until he stood trial. Snape prepared himself mentally for what was to come, realizing that he would likely be in Azkaban for months. Trials were slow affairs after all, and in all likelihood his would be delayed significantly in order to give the zealous Ministry Aurors extra time to interrogate him.

Very late that same night, Dumbledore invited him up for tea, apparently to deliver the news. Snape had been surprised when the Headmaster greeted him with a smile and said simply, 'I have very good news, Severus. I have managed to convince Fudge to have you remanded to my custody until your trial. And you need not worry about the trial – it is only a formality.' At the time, he was too relieved to wonder very much about how Dumbledore had managed it. And once again, Dumbledore had been right about his trial. Of course Moody had wanted to throw the book at him, but once the Headmaster stood up and explained everything all too eloquently, the charges against him were promptly dismissed.

Thinking back on it now, Snape couldn't remember precisely when the last bits of resentment he held for the Headmaster melted away that first year. But each time one of his cold and on occasion spiteful remarks to Dumbledore was returned only with kindness, he felt the man's words soften his hardened heart just a little. And each time he was asked to tea in Dumbledore's welcoming rooms, he felt himself warm, if only slightly, to the invitations, to the faithful appearance of those golden notes.

And now sitting here in Dumbledore's quarters, Snape found it ironic that he preferred to have tea with Dumbledore here. His dungeons, after all, did not at all resemble the Headmaster's choice of decor. He had not always felt the comfort that now possessed him. He had hated these rooms before – the resplendent colors, the ornate decorations, the innumerable knickknacks. But somehow it didn't bother him anymore. The sitting room in particular, draped in red curtains and the all too familiar red embroidered couch, had become almost a sanctuary to Snape. It was everything Albus; bright and warm as only he could make it. Snape had only to step inside to feel calmer.

Now Snape wondered how the teatime ritual with the Headmaster would change. Would it resume their previous pattern of 14 years ago? No more pleasantries; just the matter-of-fact delivery of information and hurried stress-filled conversations. Snape had barely left his dungeons in those days. Of course Dumbledore had always tried to lure him out of his self-induced hiding, but at the time he had preferred to be left to himself. This time, however, he knew it would be lonely. There were things that he would undoubtedly see, things that were irrelevant to the Order, that he would not, could not tell Albus. Snape wondered momentarily if Dumbledore would know – if he would be able to hide these things from him as well as he had once done. Huffing silently to himself, Snape knew the thought was ridiculous. In many ways, Dumbledore knew him better than he knew himself and he felt, at times, that the man could see right through him. And Snape realized sadly, that that likely meant he would have to distance himself from the Headmaster.

Snape's thoughts were interrupted by the sound of Dumbledore's office door swinging open. The Headmaster strolled inside, making his way into the sitting room to join him. Normally Snape would have asked about the damage to the South Tower and agreed with Minerva's and Filch's demands to expel Peeves. But that all seemed highly unimportant to him at the moment and he said nothing. And Dumbledore, perhaps sensing Snape's mood, offered no information either.

"I see you were lost in thought again, my boy," Dumbledore said softly.

"Hmm."

"May I ask what about?"

"The past," Snape said simply.

"Ahhh," replied Dumbledore, indicating that Snape's words served as a sufficient answer to his inquiry.

The pair sat in silence for a long time, drinking their tea and munching on biscuits. The fact that neither felt even slightly uncomfortable by this lengthy quiet was a testament to the nature of their friendship. It was odd really how their meetings of late seemed to be filled with either urgent conversations or stark silence.

As Dumbledore sipped his tea, he studied his Potions Master intently. He mused that Severus was becoming increasingly difficult to talk to as the year wore on. Granted, Severus Snape had never been an easy man to talk to. But it seemed that in the past couple of months he had become exceptionally closed. Unlike some, Dumbledore knew that Snape was not a cold, unfeeling man. Dumbledore understood and respected his need for privacy. Introversion was a part of Snape's unique personality, and Dumbledore took absurd pride in the fact that despite Severus's misanthropy, the two had formed a strong and meaningful friendship.

Dumbledore remembered all too well how hard he had struggled to connect with the then young man. When Severus first came to teach at Hogwarts as part of their arrangement, his emotions all but radiated off of him. Where the world saw an impassive face, Dumbledore was keenly aware of Severus's anger and bitterness, and he watched as those emotions (once directed outward) slowly turned inward. And at the time, he had thought that was a good thing, a positive step towards repentance and acceptance.

But as these emotions turned rather rapidly into self-loathing and left Severus despondent and even more isolated, Dumbledore had attempted to draw him out with frequent invitations to tea. Even though he supposed these invitations had been a nuisance to Severus at the time, a tentative friendship was soon forged between the pair, with Dumbledore slowly gaining some measure of the young man's trust. Dumbledore chuckled to himself, remembering how disastrous those first meetings were, for Snape, he had soon learned, loathed tea. He hardly ever drank the proffered beverage, taking a sip or two at most on the pretense of politeness. So much, even that, had changed over the years.

For his part, Dumbledore always looked forward to having tea with Severus. Whereas he supposed Severus relished their intellectual discussions the most, a welcome break from those 'obtuse little morons' as he liked to call them, Dumbledore enjoyed being able to have relaxed conversations that didn't revolve around business. Of course, given the difficult times that lie ahead, they had had very serious topics to discuss of late, and so even their teatime had become burdened with agenda. And Dumbledore wondered idly if it would always be that way. Would his own laughter at Severus's dry humor – which he felt was wholly underrated – be permanently replaced with tense whispers and frustrated sighs? With that thought too unbearable to consider, Dumbledore remembered how he had very nearly lost his Potions Master only a few short months after he had started at Hogwarts.

After Voldemort's defeat, Dumbledore had expected (and hoped) some sense of normalcy to enter Severus's life for perhaps the very first time. After his trial, which was over and done with almost immediately after Voldemort's defeat, he remembered Severus marching into his office to see him the very next day.

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"Headmaster, I've come to offer you my resignation," Snape said simply.

Offer, Dumbledore noted, not give.

"I see," Dumbledore replied thoughtfully.

Snape appeared to be struggling with what to say next. Thinking back on it now, it was only too obvious that the young man felt Dumbledore's recent assistance as a burden, a favor he knew not how to return.

Inexperienced in the art of graciousness, Snape said, "I didn't expect things to end this way."

It was a cryptic thank you and Dumbledore recognized it as such. "How did you expect them to end, Severus?"

Snape shrugged and said, "Me dead or in Azkaban…after my usefulness was gone."

"Do you think so little of my word, Severus?" Dumbledore asked pointedly.

"Not your word, Headmaster," Snape clarified. "A person such as yourself need not keep your word to someone like me."

Shaking his head, Dumbledore said, "Forgive me if I most heartily disagree with you, my boy."

Silence.

"I understand if you want to leave, Severus. But do me the courtesy of finishing out the year," Dumbledore said.

Snape nodded, the surprise evident on his face.

"I am happy to see I still am able to surprise the young," Dumbledore said with a smile. "You have the makings of an excellent teacher, Severus. Despite all that has been happening these past months, even Minerva has taken note of it, and I daresay she is most difficult to impress in such matters. And as far as the rest of the year is concerned, I would be happy to help you refine your syllabus, prepare lessons, or even swap horror stories."

Snape eyed Dumbledore incredulously.

"Oh, I had problem students myself, although that does seem like ages ago. I remember this one young witch in particular who questioned me at every turn. It was highly bothersome. I can't tell you how many times I sent her out of my classroom just to get a break from her incessant chatter."

Despite himself, Snape asked, "And what happened to her?"

"Ah. She turned out to be my star pupil and now, my Transfigurations Mistress," Dumbledore replied with a twinkle.

"Minerva?" Snape asked wide-eyed.

"Yes. And now back to business. Would you please do me the favor of asking around the Potions' circles for any interested candidates for next year?"

"Of course, Headmaster."

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Eyeing his Potions Master of 14years, Dumbledore smiled at the memory. He had never had any intention of letting Severus go at the end of the year. But he also knew that Severus needed to come to the decision to stay on his own. Dumbledore thought that if he asked him to serve out the rest of the year, it would give Severus the chance to change his own mind, to grow into the position, and perhaps even learn to like it. Indeed, it appeared to Dumbledore that his plan had worked. Severus seemed to enjoy teaching more and more every day, although truth by told, it was his upper level students that inspired that change. Dumbledore supposed that, however reluctant Severus was to admit this newfound enjoyment for teaching when the end of the year rolled around, that that was why he had stayed. But Dumbledore was wrong. And to this day, he did not know the true reason Severus Snape had decided to remain at Hogwarts at the end of that first year.

Breaking their silence once more, Dumbledore said, "I'm glad you could join me, Severus. I do enjoy your company."

Snape bent his head slightly in a subtle nod.

Noticing the worry lines on Snape's face, Dumbledore asked, "How are you doing, my boy?"

Barely a tick later, Snape replied, "Karkaroff won't stay if the Dark Lord returns."

Dumbledore carefully took in Severus's words. This discussion of Igor Karkaroff was hardly new. In fact, they had discussed the man and what he intended to do many times over. Dumbledore knew very well not to mistake Severus's sudden remarks for an actual conversation about Igor, but instead recognized it for what it truly was, Severus's way of deflecting attention.

Snape continued, "He will run, Albus. Of that, I have no doubt. He is scared out of his wits."

"And you, Severus?" Dumbledore asked gently.

Snape took a deep breath, and replied, "I am resigned to my duty."

"I haven't asked anything of you."

"Albus don't. We've discussed this. If there is some chance that the Dark Lord will take me back – I must go. I am prepared to do whatever you ask of me."

Dumbledore began slowly, "Who knows, other options may yet present themselves."

"Hypothetically?" Snape asked with smirk.

"Yes. Hypothetically," Dumbledore replied, with a hint of a smile.

"I thought you didn't dwell in hypotheticals, Albus," Snape said, his lips now forming a definite smile as well.

"Ah, how well you've baited me, my boy." Both men's minds were dancing around the same memory, the same moment 14 years ago. "But, I think an old man is entitled to change his mind. If I did ask you, would you resent me for it?"

"What would that matter?"

"It matters to me," Dumbledore said seriously.

Silence.

Snape studied the Headmaster's serious expression and realized all too easily that Dumbledore was actually worried about being resented by him. Snape thought that there could not possibly be a more ridiculous notion. Foolish old man! How could I resent you? And Snape decided, that perhaps, he needed to tell Albus just that. After all, it might be his last chance. Certainly now was the time to do it – to tell Dumbledore that he couldn't possibly resent him for asking this of him, not after everything he had done for him. He wanted to tell him that his life was no longer his own. It's yours Albus…you saved it, so many years ago.

But as Snape began to speak, to tell Dumbledore all of these things, he found himself closing off, and heard his own voice, saying something else entirely. "I don't know."

Snape noticed flicker of something in Dumbledore's eyes. Pain? Was that pain? And he couldn't understand why he had spoken those words. He added quickly, "I know it must be done, Albus. I assure you, there is no room for resentment."

A long minute of silence passed between the men.

"You never answered my original question, Severus."

And you, Severus…are you 'scared out of your wits?'

Dumbledore waited for it – the stiff reply, the emotionless denial, all masked behind an affirmation of unwavering duty.

Snape met his gaze fully before replying, "I'd be mad not to be, Albus."

Even now, Dumbledore marveled, so many years later, Severus Snape could still surprise him.

Dumbledore filled the now awkward silence between them as he usually did. He lifted the teapot with a wave of his hand over Severus's nearly empty cup.

"More tea, Severus?" he asked pleasantly, as if they had not just been discussing matters of life and death.

"Please," Snape replied.

Dumbledore had the pot pour his companion another cup, and he watched with a smile as Severus sipped it eagerly.

"It seems my promise to find a tea you consider agreeable has been successful."

Snape said nothing, taking another sip as his answer.

"Do you remember, Severus," Dumbledore began, "the night you decided to stay?"

Snape met the Headmaster's eyes fully again. He had, in fact, been thinking about that moment for the past few minutes.

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Snape had settled himself onto the red sofa in the Headmaster's sitting room, surprised to have received one of those golden notes inviting him to tea. It seemed there was nothing left to discuss between them. His first (and soon to be last) year at Hogwarts had just ended and all of his grades had been turned in. Having spent the better part of the day packing, he was planning on departing within the week.

The two men exchanged the usual pleasantries that marked the uncertain nature of their relationship – somewhere between unfamiliar friends and close acquaintances. Dumbledore eyed Severus's all but untouched cup of tea before speaking.

"I have a confession, Severus. I promised myself that by the end of the year I would find a tea that you loved."

"I'm not a big fan of tea, Headmaster."

"And yet you accepted my invitation this evening."

"I assumed you had business to discuss," Snape said evenly.

"I see."

Dumbledore studied his soon to be former Potions Master carefully.

"So you are definitely leaving then?"

"Yes. I'm almost through packing."

"I must say, I'm disappointed."

Are you really? Snape thought.

"I need someone to keep an old man company and to indulge him in tea at all hours of the night."

"Tea?" Snape asked in genuine surprise.

"Yes, and it shall give me the opportunity to find a tea that entices you. It's really driving me quite mad, Severus. You see, it has never taken me this long to find anyone's favorite tea before."

Snape stared at the Headmaster with raised eyebrows, wondering if he was jesting with him or if he really was this mad.

Dumbledore had been sending Snape notes throughout the past week with enticements to have him stay on at Hogwarts, but nothing had worked. Nonetheless, the Headmaster decided it prudent to address these offers once more. "So there really is no offer that can change your mind then?"

"No."

"Better quarters? A teaching assistant? A higher salary?" Dumbledore inquired.

"No, I'm afraid not."

Dumbledore's eyes locked with Snape's, and he spoke in a low voice. "What if I asked you to stay, Severus?"

Snape was taken slightly aback by the question and perhaps more so by the Headmaster's penetrating gaze. Somewhat unsettled, he responded, "Are you asking…or are you posing a hypothetical?"

"I don't dwell in hypotheticals, Severus," Dumbledore replied with firm seriousness. And then, in a much gentler, lower voice, he asked again, "Would you stay?"

Snape felt an odd sensation in his chest. He wanted to say something equal in magnitude to what he felt. "Of course," Snape said simply instead, swallowing the lump in his throat.

And that was the moment that he knew. It was ridiculous really, Snape thought to himself, that the realization had hit him then, when the feeling had been there for so long. He had always had a deep inexplicable urge to please this man, a need to make him proud – to do something, anything worthy of the faith he had in him. Perhaps that was why the Headmaster's actions in his fifth year were so painful to him, why they had felt like a personal rejection. And now Dumbledore had offered him more than a steady job, more than his freedom – he was offering him his life back, a second chance to be trusted. And above all else, that was the greatest gift.

Dumbledore had simply asked him to stay, and he had assented. In that moment, he had barely resisted the impulse to jump down at the man's feet and swear his undying loyalty to him. Loyalty motivated not out of fear or a thirst for power, but by something else entirely – something more than devotion…something more.

Dumbledore had simply asked him to stay. And it was then that Snape knew – knew that he would do anything for Albus Dumbledore. Anything at all.

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And now, sitting here, nearly 13 years later, Snape huffed mentally at the absolute absurdity of Albus's question. In Snape's mind, the fact that Dumbledore could even ask him if he remembered that night, highlighted how disparate the significance of that memory was between them.

"I remember it quite well," Snape remarked offhandedly, carefully masking the power that that memory held for him. And perhaps more so, the sadness he felt that Albus had no idea.

Driven by the force of that memory and perhaps feeling emboldened by his imminent death, Snape bluntly asked something that he had been wondering for a very long time, "Albus, how much did you pay Fudge to keep me out of Azkaban?"

To his credit, Dumbledore, though astonished, did not feign ignorance. He did not issue denials or attempt to change the subject. He did not ask how on earth Severus had come to suspect this. Instead, he asked with genuine interest, "What, my dear boy, has you asking me this question after 14 years?"

"So it is true," Snape replied, his eyes lighting up in silent triumph at his deduction. "Tell me…how much?"

"What does the number matter?" Dumbledore asked with a concerned glint in his eyes.

It doesn't matter, Snape thought. It wasn't about the money. He had never cared to know before, even though he had long suspected there was money involved, because it hadn't mattered. It was never about what Albus had done for him – although he was inexorably grateful for that – it was what he hadn't done. He had never treated him like a monster, like a Death Eater, like the man he once was, like the man he (at times) still thought he was. That was the debt he owed Albus Dumbledore – not some pittance of galleons.

You gave me my life back, Albus. That is something I can never repay. Something that can never be measured in gold.

And so why did he want to know now, Dumbledore had asked him. The number didn't matter, although he couldn't help being curious. But it was the fact that he didn't know that was consuming him at this very moment. It was yet another missing piece. Over the last few days, his day-dream journeys through his past memories had revealed that there were many missing pieces. And this was yet another unspoken secret between them. And suddenly, it was one more than he could bear. Something else unknown, guarded and kept.

There was so much Snape could not ask and could not share, but this he could ask – this he could know. And in the absence of everything else, with time being the slim thing it was, he would have to settle for knowing this one piece, this secret.

"It doesn't matter. I just want to know," Snape replied evenly.

"Why Severus?" Dumbledore eyed him with a scrutinizing gaze that burned holes through him. "Do you suppose it will tell you your worth?"

The question caught Snape completely by surprise. Dumbledore's normally relaxed tone was conspicuously absent, and his expression did not hold the amusement that was lacking in his voice. A short pause passed between them as Snape fumbled for an answer.

"Stop being silly, Albus," Snape replied feebly, dismissing the elder wizard's concern too easily for it to not have struck some chord of truth.

"Although I believe a modicum of silliness is often necessary, this is not one of those times. Why, my boy, does the number matter to you? Do you really believe it means anything? Do you suppose if it were 1,000 galleons that would make you less valuable than if I had paid 10,000? Do you suppose the number means anything more than the measure of one man's greed?"

"I need to know, Albus."

Dumbledore took a deep breath and studied his Potions Master intently. He never thought this would come up – and certainly not now, 14 years later. And although he preferred not to answer, to dismiss Severus's question, there was an urgency in those dark depths that he could not deny.

"Please, Albus."

Dumbledore sighed, "500,000 galleons."

Snape felt his eyes grow wide despite his efforts. He had expected…but what had he expected? Dumbledore was obscenely wealthy, but it was too much to pay for one man's life – for his life.

Dumbledore interrupted his thoughts, "And he was a fool to take it. I would have paid him 10 times that amount. There was no way you were going to Azkaban, Severus."

The initial moment of shock was fast replaced with understanding and then disbelief. How could he have offered that amount? They had barely known each other then, a few months at most. Now perhaps, after they'd been friends for 14 years. But then?

Despite himself, Snape asked curiously, "Why?"

Dumbledore closed his eyes momentarily. When he opened them, Snape was completely unprepared for what he saw in those normally cheerful blue eyes, a deep unmistakable sadness.

Dumbledore spoke in a low, gentle voice, his words so profound and heartfelt, that they stunned the breath right out of Snape's chest. "I lost you once, my dear Severus, because I did not fight hard enough for you. And there was no way I was going to make the same mistake twice. I could not bear to let you go, not ever again."

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A/N: First I want to apologize for the length of time between postings. I promise that once my other story is finished, I will devote all my time here...but in the meantime, your patience is appreciated - and I can only promise that I have no intention of dumping this story. I poured myself into every word in this chapter...I hope you like it. If so, please sign up for an author or story alert to keep up with my postings.

I can't tell you how happy all your reviews on the last chapter made me. Thank you! It's funny because my other story has nearly 600 reviews and this one has 11 but every one is so special - perhaps because I consider this my strongest work and it is also much closer to my heart.

Huge thanks to my partner who, by some miracle of nature, agreed to beta this chapter for me (and of course, did a stellar job). Thanks also to Kelei for her beta work.

Please review...please.