Title: Unexpected Grace
Author: Cocoa-Snape (aka CocoaSnape)
Disclaimer: Harry Potter belongs exclusively to JKR…she is a goddess. I am making no money from this and I intend no copyright infringement.
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Author's Note: I know that apologies for the long break since the last update are not enough, but I offer them regardless. Thank you for coming back for more and for your support and to everyone who asked me when/if I was going to continue. I'm so happy to see so many people want more of this story. It was never my intention to delay updating for so long. Now since it's been a long while, I thought it prudent to write a little summary of what's happened so far in case you don't feel much like re-reading. So here is a general overview from the top.
Summary of previous chapters: UG opens during GoF, where Snape's dark mark has returned and he knows he will have to go back to Voldemort as a spy – part of him terrified, the other determined to do what he needs to do for the Order, himself and Albus. Snape asks Dumbledore to give him a refresher course in Occlumency, during which time we quickly learn that Severus and Albus share a deep friendship. Through flashbacks, we learn more about their past relationship and how it has evolved over the years, and find that Severus has been in love with Dumbledore for a very long time.
Severus's return to Voldemort does not go well. He has been tortured to within an inch of his life and Poppy is convinced he will not survive his injuries. He is in a coma for a few days, but he does awaken. During his multi-week rehabilitation, Albus does not leave his side. Albus promises him a time turner so that he can go back and attend the last week of class he missed in return for obeying Poppy's medical orders.
During this period of recovery in the hospital wing, we learn that perhaps Albus's feelings are also a bit more complicated than what Severus might believe. In response to Severus's persistent nightmares, Dumbledore suggests that Severus speak about the traumatic encounter, but Severus refuses. In an attempt to refute Severus's assertion that secrecy is power, Dumbledore opens his mind to Severus who is overwhelmed and finds the experience euphoric in more ways than one.
In the last chapter: Snape is finally out the hospital wing. Snape's feelings for Albus are beginning to overwhelm him. When he complains of a sore back, Albus offers a massage and Albus's ministrations inspire a certain reaction from our potions master which he is keen to conceal. Cursing himself for fantasizing about things he knows cannot be, he decides he must block these feelings he has for Albus so that they are not discovered.
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Unexpected Grace
by CocoaSnape
Chapter 12: And so he never saw
Snape studied the golden amulet in his hand with interest. When Dumbledore had handed it to him last night, a part of him had expected a different device, a time turner Dumbledore himself had modified or created. But it was the same familiar piece he'd seen before. The difference, he was told, was the series of charms Dumbledore would cast that would enable him to travel back further than was typically possible and legal according to the Ministry's regulations on approved time turner use.
To say it was unorthodox to go back that far was nothing short of an understatement. Yet and still, the plan was a simple one. Snape would was use the time turner to go back four weeks to the night of his N.E.W.T. review session – four days after his encounter with the Dark Lord. He would make his first public appearance at that evening's dinner, which would also serve to alert the past Dumbledore to his presence in that timeline. After the review session, he was to use the time turner to skip forward the requisite hours and teach his classes on Monday, just as his 'other self' was waking from a coma in the hospital wing. By canceling half of the week's classes – a common practice during the last week of school – and using the time turner to skip forward between them, he would greatly limit the amount of time spent under the time turner's control.
Snape felt the wards around his quarters being prodded, and he lowered them to permit his unexpected visitor's entrance. Not that Dumbledore needed the wards lowered to enter, but the fact that he had 'knocked,' so to speak, informed Snape that this wasn't an emergency visit.
Dumbledore bustled in, his ruby robes so vivid they seemed to illuminate room of their own accord. "Good morning, Severus."
"Good morning," came the belated reply.
"How's your back feeling? Better I hope."
"Oh… yes."
Dumbledore extended his hand, and Snape stared at it for long a moment before accepting the slip of paper being offered. "The charm I promised you last night," Dumbledore explained.
"Oh. Thank you," Snape replied, suddenly cognizant of the fact that he was unable to string together anything but a series of banal responses. His mind was wandering, reliving that delightful sensation of Albus soothing his back with that charm. It was a bit awkward seeing Albus after last night, after having spent hours in bed trying to rid the errant thoughts from his mind. But as always, Dumbledore had a gift for putting him at ease. And Dumbledore's relaxed demeanor reassured Severus that his own odd behavior the other evening had gone unnoticed.
"How about some breakfast?" Dumbledore suggested cheerfully.
Snape was less than a second away from saying he wasn't hungry before Dumbledore added, "And please don't say you're not hungry. I know you haven't eaten."
"Those house elves are traitorous," Snape grumbled.
Dumbledore chuckled brightly as he wandlessly transfigured Snape's desk into a table with two chairs. "Not at all, they are quite loyal… to me. I want to be sure you have a proper breakfast before you leave, my boy. Knowing you, you won't eat for the next week."
"That's hardly possible."
"Actually, it is perfectly possible," Dumbledore corrected teasingly.
Snape understood at once. Albus was alluding to the week he'd be using the time turner – which woulfd be no more than 24 hours to him.
Seconds later, a basket appeared in Dumbledore's hands, and from it he pulled out a linen tablecloth and a set of fine china.
"Albus, isn't this a bit much?" Snape asked in amazement.
"Oh, you know how much I enjoy excess, my boy," Dumbledore replied enthusiastically. "Besides, once you're rid of that," Dumbledore said, gesturing to the cane Severus was leaning on for support, "I won't have a valid excuse to force food on you."
"As if that would stop you," Snape remarked jovially.
"Quite right you are, dear boy," Dumbledore replied, returning Severus's gaze with wink as he began to set the table.
Severus wasn't at all surprised that Albus did so without the use of magic – it was one of Albus's many endearing qualities, his insistence that there were some things that should only be done by hand.
He observed as Albus gently arranged the silver flatware that had suddenly appeared in his palms. There was no sign of age in his movements as Albus walked gracefully around the table. He conjured a small vase, and his eyes were twinkling with amusement as he played with variations of flowers, deciding which suited the table best. He flashed Severus a smile when he finally settled on baby yellow carnations. He was the epitome of charm in that moment, so full of joy at the simplest thing – it was impossible not to be completely absorbed by it.
Quite belatedly, it occurred to Severus that instead of standing there and staring at Albus, he probably should have offered his assistance. But he couldn't tear his eyes from those long fingers gently smoothing down the edges of the white linen tablecloth with meticulous precision. When Albus looked up, Severus averted his eyes.
"There," Dumbledore announced with a sigh of satisfaction. "All done."
As Severus took the proffered seat, he asked, "Are we celebrating something?"
"Yes we are," Dumbledore replied warmly. "Your recovery."
They tucked into the food the house elves delivered and the conversation turned to business.
"It is essential you are conscious of the time, Severus," Dumbledore reminded. "The less you spend in that timeline, the better it will be for your health." Dumbledore was aware that Severus's insistence on returning was motivated not by his desire to actually teach (except perhaps his N.E.W.T. review session), but to quell any rumors his absence might have caused. "I believe your presence at a few classes here and there should be enough to eliminate any suspicion."
"And the Leaving Feast," Snape added. "I would like to hear your words about Mr. Diggory."
Dumbledore nodded solemnly. Both men remained silent for a long minute.
"There's something I've been curious about, Albus," Snape began. "These charms you plan on casting, what exactly are they?"
"Protective shields to mitigate the deleterious side effects of extreme time travel. I designed them with shorter time periods in mind though, so I cannot give you too accurate an estimation of how long they will last," Dumbledore said pensively. "But they should be effective anywhere from 12 to 24 hours."
"And what kind of side effects are the charms shielding precisely?" Snape asked as he fended off the bacon pieces Albus was attempting to shove onto his plate.
"Severus, you've hardly eaten at thing," Dumbledore grumbled. "What were we saying? Ah, yes… the side effects. Again, that is best left to the realm of guesswork. The sudden jump to four weeks back in time would mean a significant disruption of your circadian rhythms."
"I don't imagine that would feel pleasant."
"I would think not," Dumbledore agreed. "The charms mimic the time you are in now; essentially deceiving your body to believe you have not left the present."
"That's quite ingenious," Snape replied with admiration, his interest piqued. "And where exactly did the theory behind these charms originate?"
Dumbledore chuckled. "That, my boy, is a long story and one we don't have time for at the moment."
Snape smirked, reached inside his pocket, pulled out the time turner and looked at it suggestively.
Dumbledore began to laugh.
"You walked right into that one, Albus," Snape said with a smile. "I couldn't resist."
Dumbledore's smile began to slowly fade, and his expression turned serious. "Severus, I know I've said this before, but this is very important," Dumbledore said, leaning forward in his chair. "If at any point you begin to feel ill…"
"I know, Albus," Snape interjected, "I should return immediately."
"Yes. Even if that means you haven't finished out the week."
Snape nodded his understanding. He studied the golden device in his hand once more. It struck him as strange, not for the first time, that he would be breaking the cardinal rule of the time turner. To not be seen. That, in fact, he was going back in time with precisely the opposite intention. There would be limited repercussions, of course, because his past self would be safely stowed away from public eye in the hospital wing. Hence almost no one would be the wiser. Almost.
The thought prompted Snape to re-ask the question that had been at the forefront of his mind since the decision to return. "I still have not heard a satisfactory explanation of how it is you and Minerva will be able to see me walking about and not ask questions." After all, both would know he was in a coma.
"If I knew precisely, Severus, I would surely tell you. But in any case, I imagine I'll be far and away too preoccupied with you in the hospital wing to give you too much thought."
They took their time finishing breakfast, and Dumbledore asked Severus to come see him after he'd finished his trip through time.
"Well, then," Snape said, "I'll see you in a week, Albus."
With a sparkle in his eye, Dumbledore replied, "And I'll see you… in a few minutes."
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It was nothing more than a whim – a bizarre impulse. Certainly not something he'd at all carefully considered. But it had been nagging at him during the long weeks of his recovery as he watched his body mend, and still more recently as came to terms with the fact that he would be returning as a spy once more. And now that the opportunity was there in front of him, he could not miss seeing himself, seeing exactly what the Dark Lord had done to him.
It wouldn't adversely impact the plan, Snape rationalized. He could take a peek at himself for a minute or two and then use the time turner to skip forward to Sunday, the night of the N.E.W.T. review session. He knew he was trying to convince himself that he wasn't breaking his vow to Albus to do only what was necessary. But he was beginning to realize that this was necessary for him, and Snape felt certain that Albus wouldn't begrudge him this after he'd explained his reasons why. That being said, this excursion required additional precautions. He'd need to stay hidden from Poppy, so he made sure to fetch a small amber vial from his potions stores.
Standing in the middle of his quarters, Snape turned the time turner's dial not only the number of clicks Dumbledore had specified, but also added a few more. The transition was a rapid one, the only real sign of the change the intermittent movement of some of his books he'd read or perused over the past few days. It was extraordinarily subtle – he could not see the days changing into nights and vice versa in the shelter of the dungeons. When he finally felt the pull of magic around him cease, he glanced at the magical clock on his wall which confirmed the date and time, Thursday the 29th of June, 10 am.
That was close enough. He would be in the hospital wing now and based on what Pomfrey had told him, Hagrid had probably brought him in from the edge of the Forbidden Forest a few hours before. Snape pulled the tiny vial of liquid out of his pocket. Invisibility potion was extremely rare, extraordinarily expensive, and all but impossible to brew. Not the wisest use of such a precious commodity, Snape reflected, but then again, he'd only need a drop for 30 minutes of invisibility – plenty to steal a glance at himself without anyone being the wiser.
Snape made his way cautiously towards the hospital wing, careful to avoid contact with anyone. Outside the door, he placed a single drop on his tongue, cast a dampening charm on his feet, and made his way inside. He passed the main ward where Harry Potter, Alastor Moody, Viktor Krum, and Fleur Delacour still lay recovering from their encounter of the previous eve. Other students were milling about as well, demanding the attentions of Poppy's assistant. Snape managed to avoid colliding with a couple of them as he made his way towards Poppy's office. But before he could step inside, however, Snape realized that Pomfrey had warded it. Damn.
He considered the best way to disarm the wards without attracting attention, before something occurred to him. His other self was already inside. Shouldn't the wards recognize him as well? Snape took a deep breath and took a step forward. He felt the momentary upsurge of magic from the wards, but then it was gone. He was inside.
Inside her office, the medi-witch was decanting several potions that Snape recognized as the ones he had brewed for Cruciatus overdose. She looked haggard; her hair was a complete mess. The back door was ajar, but not enough so that he could slip through it without being noticed, so he remained fixed on the spot waiting for Poppy to open the door herself. He did not have to wait long. After another minute, she placed the potions on a tray and headed to the private room. Snape followed closely behind.
As he moved down the familiar corridor, the screams were the first thing that struck him, and Snape instantly wondered who else was back there. The door to the room in which he lay was open, and he could see Albus sitting at his bedside within, obscuring the view of his self. Pomfrey transferred the potions to the magical intravenous drip and left after briefly checking his vitals.
It occurred to Snape then that if Albus turned around, he might be able to see him. Albus was able to see through invisibility cloaks, after all. Would he be able to see through an invisibility potion as well? Snape had no idea, but it struck him then that if anyone could, it would be Albus.
So Snape found a spot outside of Pomfrey's foot traffic with a clear view of the room and the needed cover of a stone pillar in case he needed to hide hurriedly. Dumbledore's gaze, however, did not waver once from the man in the bed, whose hisses of pain seemed to only be growing louder. Snape wanted to get closer, to get a look at himself, but realized he could not do so without physically stepping inside the room and risking Albus spotting him.
Dumbledore was saying something, but Snape could not discern the words. Hoping the elder wizard was too distracted to notice, Snape cast an eavesdropping charm, and a moment later, he could hear everything with complete clarity.
'The Dark Lord, he knows… he'll know how I feel… He'll kill me.'
Snape realized it was his own voice – although barely – it was so hoarse, he could scarcely recognize it.
'He'll know! He'll see it in an instant! You can't imagine his rage when he finds out.'
Dumbledore moved a fraction to the left, and Snape finally got his first glimpse of his other self – he barely stifled a gasp. Realizing how serious such a slip would be, he cast a silencing charm on his person for good measure.
Concentrating his attention once more on his counterpart, he realized that Pomfrey and Dumbledore hadn't lied about the state he'd been in when they'd first found him. The convulsions were so violent, they made the weeks of tremors that followed pale in comparison. As Snape caught sight of Dumbledore's face for the first time, he realized that he did not need to worry about Dumbledore seeing him – his eyes, his entire focus was glued to his convulsing form. And Snape found it difficult not to stare as well.
He felt so disconnected from the person he was watching, the body in that bed, felt it difficult to recognize the suffering man as himself. He had no memory of these events, and that made it easy to imagine that he was watching some other man endure this.
His counterpart was screaming now, outright screaming, and Dumbledore looked as if he were losing his mind. He was pacing about, trying to reassure the ill man, but everything he said, every movement he made only seemed to make matters worse. Dumbledore looked every bit his age then, exhausted and fragile. Almost as though he'd caught the disease of the afflicted man lying in that room.
After a few more minutes of this, Snape checked his watch. He had five minutes of invisibility left. But he had seen enough of this anyway, enough of his state, enough of Albus's clear desperation.
He was about to leave when suddenly he felt his feet rooted to the floor.
Dumbledore was levitating the ill man's body off the bed – it did a strange dance in the air, twisting in awkward directions. And then the elder wizard climbed into the spot the man had just occupied and lowered the body, his body, down on top of his, using his arms and legs to steady the convulsions in lieu of a restraining charm.
Snape watched the scene with a strange mixture of fascination and shock, seeing as the tension melted off of his self, as his body began slowly to calm and still as Albus whispered simple instructions into his ear.
'It's alright, Severus, breathe for me now.'
Snape found he needed the instruction as much as the ailing man. He was suddenly unable to turn away from this scene.
'That's right, focus on my chest. We're breathing together, just feel my chest rising and falling.'
In almost a trance, Snape sank down on the stone floor. He couldn't quite shake the feeling that he shouldn't be here – shouldn't be watching this. He felt a bit like a voyeur. But still he reached into his pocket and placed another drop of potion on his tongue.
'That's it… nice and slow, deep calm breaths, that's it. Good boy.'
A few minutes later, Pomfrey entered the room. Snape noticed her shock at the sudden presence of the Headmaster in her patient's bed. Dumbledore, on the other hand, didn't even seem to notice her company.
Dumbledore was still speaking softly, sometimes whispering reminders that everything was alright, other times murmuring words of nonsense. And it seemed to be working. In between the convulsions, his counterpart appeared to have calmed enough to catch fitful stretches of rest.
This time, when Pomfrey left, she closed the door behind her, perhaps to drown out his screams when the next convulsion hit, perhaps to preserve the men's privacy. Despite himself, Snape was now too far gone to remember that he shouldn't be here. He cast a translucence charm on the wall giving him an unfettered view of everything within.
He watched as Albus smoothed away the sweaty hair clumped on his face and wiped his brow with a moist cloth. He could see how relaxed he was in Albus's arms, how easily, how perfectly Albus had alleviated his suffering as nothing else would.
'I have you, Severus,' Albus whispered in the man's ear. 'I have you…' he repeated, as he gently stroked his hair.
It was an incredible sight – his body cocooned against Albus's, the elder wizard's arms wrapped around him in a protective embrace. A startling level of physical intimacy regardless of the circumstances.
He wondered then what it would have been like to remember this, and not just to witness it from this outside perspective, watching that stranger receive these comforts, not himself. And Snape felt a pang of loss then for not having remembered this, for not learning what it felt like to have Albus holding him this way, at least once in his life, even if it was only because he was near death.
And when the convulsions came, Albus did everything to soothe him, didn't flinch in the least when he retched in the bed or soiled the sheets. And to think he'd been grateful for Albus's help in the hospital wing during the weeks of his recovery. That all seemed meaningless now compared to this, compared to the sheer physical and mental exhaustion of taking care of him for these hours. How could he possibly ever repay Albus for such kindness – as though he didn't already owe him enough?
'Don't send me back there.'
The words echoed loudly in his ears, and Snape's eyes flew open, mirroring the wide-eyed crazed expression on his counterpart's face. His breathing halted as he thought, hoped, that maybe he had misheard. But it wasn't so.
'I can't go back… please don't send me, Albus. You were supposed to protect me.'
Snape was lost in the torrent of words leaving the frantic man's mouth, and he felt a hot wave of shame pass over him. How could he be saying those things? How could he be so cowardly, so selfish?
So much made sense now. It was no wonder that in their discussions during his recovery, he had had an impossible time convincing Albus to even consider letting him return, that he looked perpetually guilty whenever the issue of his spying had come. And that when pressed, Albus had said he didn't believe Severus's desire to return as a spy. And no wonder! Here he was, begging Albus to spare him. The more he took in Albus's guilt-ridden expression, the more ill he felt.
Snape eyed the man lying in that bed with growing anger, verging ever closer to hatred. That man looked and sounded like him, but there, the similarity ended. That man was a coward. And to say those things in front of Albus of all people! If he were Dumbledore, he would have been embarrassed for him.
And the admissions did not end there as Snape watched the scene unfold in front of him. His pleas grew more frantic, more insane, and to his dismay, more revealing. His unconscious seemed to pour out of him – a plethora of fearful confessions and weaknesses, each more potent than the last.
He wished it was a dream, a horrible nightmare. But there it was in front of him, an undeniable reality. Him screaming for Dumbledore to spare him, protect him. Howling frantically for the pain to stop. Whimpering like a five year old as he shed desperate tears, pleading for mercy, from the Dark Lord, from his father, from anyone who'd ever wronged him.
A shame curled out from inside him, so heavy, so deep, he thought it might swallow him whole. His head was beginning to spin – or was it the room? – and as the nausea and dizziness took over, he felt as though he had lost all control of his body. Snape stumbled back into the stone wall and slumped down against it, his legs no longer able support his weight.
To put the humiliation he felt into words would have been impossible. His throat was burning, threatening to suffocate him and his head felt as though it were about to explode.
'I'm so sorry, Severus. Please forgive me. Please forgive me.'
His stomach heaved. Amidst all his admissions, it was Albus's soft apologies that broke him. The very idea that Albus had placed any of this burden, any of it at all, on himself was too much. No, Snape corrected mentally, Albus hadn't placed that burden there. He had. He had loaded it all on Albus. And nothing Snape had said afterwards could take that away, because Albus wouldn't believe it.
Of course part of him didn't want to go back, a part of him was terrified. But intellectually, Snape knew he needed to go for his own well-being, to repair the damage he'd done to others, to himself, when he'd agreed to join that monster's cause. That decision had been his own many years ago, and so too was going back, this time for the right reasons. There was empowerment in that.
One thing was for certain, Snape would no longer be thanking Albus for his help this night. That was now out of the question; he couldn't possibly mention it after seeing this. That would be too mortifying to even contemplate. Hundreds of apologies would not suffice to rid him of the shame.
No, Snape resolved, he would never mention this to Albus. Never. How could he even look Albus in the eye again? Then the thought hit him. He had. For weeks after these events, although he hadn't known what had happened here between them at the time. But, dear Merlin, Albus had known! Snape's stomach lurched again at the thought.
Then it dawned on him that Albus hadn't brought it up either. Surely in the weeks they'd spent together Albus might have mentioned to him that he was conscious for hours and hours and that he'd been there through it. Or he might have at least asked Severus if he remembered the ordeal. But he hadn't. And it couldn't have been more apparent as to why. Albus must have been equally mortified by the words Severus was speaking. Mortified for Severus. Even embarrassed by his weakness. It was one thing to admit fear, but this? This was disgusting.
Snape swallowed roughly, trying to force the acrid taste from his mouth. He didn't want to see this anymore. He wanted to leave, to run away and forget this. And yet he did not. He could not explain why it was he stayed… whether it was horrible fascination or stunned paralysis, he could not say.
And so he watched that man, that traitor that looked like him. Watched him admit his weaknesses, one after the other, and watched that trembling body tacitly betray all that was left unsaid.
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Through a small gap in the drapes, Snape could make out the sun finish its descent past the horizon. It was becoming darker and darker with each passing minute and there was little light in the room save for the candles on the wall. Snape still hadn't moved. As the minutes melted into hours, his body had grown quite cold sitting on the stone, his back aching from being motionless for so long, but he ignored it, his focus entirely on the sight in front of him.
Anger and humiliation had since transmuted into a numb disbelief and the knowledge that nothing else could shake him. That was until the very next moment, however, when Snape's world turned upside down.
He would have fallen down had he not already been sitting against the wall. His words – no, not his words – the words of that other man struck him with a terrible the force, and his chest constricted as if a massive stone had been placed upon it.
'I love you.'
He could not believe what he was seeing, hearing. He had said those words… aloud. Snape's life seemed to flash before his eyes, akin to someone experiencing impending death. Because that's what this was. It was a bombshell nothing could have prepared him for.
And then, his other self repeated the words again – 'I love you, Albus' – as if a little doubt would hurt?! What Albus must think of him! The weight on his chest intensified, robbing him of all air, of all the blood to his brain.
Snape instinctively clutched the time turner hanging around his neck, wondering for one insane moment if he could use it to go back in time and prevent these events from transpiring. If only he could somehow run into that room and shake that man that was him and make him take it all back. To his dismay, Snape realized that that was impossible.
Instead, he studied Albus's features carefully, trying to gauge his reaction. All he could accurately discern was surprise, clear surprise on Dumbledore's part. No overt disgust at the very least. As the seconds passed, it became apparent that Albus was giving those words the same credence that he had his other delusional rants. If not only for the reason that a second later, Dumbledore repeated it, 'I love you too, Severus. Now please try and get some rest.'
Despite himself, Snape sucked in a breath as he heard those words escape Albus's lips, savoring this singular moment that would never come again – having Albus return his sentiment. No, not the sentiment, Snape corrected himself harshly. His own admission had been the closest thing to the truest words he'd ever spoken to Albus. It was obvious to him, painfully obvious in fact, that Albus was humoring his dementia, saying anything to calm the half-insane man trembling in arms.
Distantly, Snape wondered if this would create awkwardness between them. His mind raced back to the weeks in the hospital wing, and he couldn't think of any time Albus had felt ill at ease. Perhaps he'd been right, Albus hadn't taken his words as a confession, but as a delusion, or perhaps even as the words of one friend to another.
Oddly, Snape found that he was more dismayed than he was comforted by that knowledge.
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It was very late now, and Snape eyed the empty amber vial in his hand, wondering how it was that he'd managed to use up his entire supply of invisibility potion. Glancing at his watch, he realized he'd spent far too many hours watching this, squandering much of the time he'd allotted to spend under the time turner's control. Now he'd have to cancel even more classes and do so without raising Albus's suspicions as to why.
He'd been so interested to know what had happened in this room. The curiosity had plagued him. He'd gone through so much trouble to find out. And after all of it, all he felt was sick. Sick to his stomach at what he had witnessed, wishing that he hadn't come here to this moment, that he hadn't seen any of it at all.
Rage bloomed inside him, filling him to the brim, threatening to overflow at any moment. And then he heard his counterpart speaking, pleading, confessing his fear.
'I'm scared, Albus.'
The dam exploded. He could not take this anymore. Not one more minute of watching Albus listen to his pathetic, unwanted admissions. Not one more second of Albus's efforts to respond to his madness.
Rage mingled and mutated into fierce hatred. In that moment, Snape couldn't remember ever feeling such revulsion for anyone as he did for that man, that sick, pathetic shell of a man that lay in that bed bearing his countenance.
He stood quickly, his body stiff from immobility. He began to walk away from the scene, into Poppy's office, down the hospital wing hall and out into the corridor.
The eavesdropping charm was still active, and so even from this distance, he heard his counterpart's words, whimpered through hiccupping breaths.
'Please don't leave me, Albus. You won't leave me, will you?'
A surge of anger at that feeble man flowed through him and he whispered Finite as quickly as he could manage to end the spell, doubling his pace away from the hospital wing.
And so he never saw Dumbledore pull Severus tightly into his arms, never heard the whispered reply, 'Never, Severus. Never,' and never saw the tears that trickled down Albus's beard.
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Author's Note: Thank you to all for your enthusiasm for this story and all your encouraging words (even those verging on death threats) that I post another chapter. I promise not to let so much time pass in the future. Life has been insane over these months.
I really hope you enjoyed the chapter. I await your comments, thoughts, etc with eagerness.
I'd also like to thank Snape's Nightie for jumping in at the last minute and betaing this for me. She did an awesome job! Hugs!
I can't wait to hear your thoughts on the chapter.