Chapter 3

When Severus was a child, adults never paid him much attention. His mother hadn't been cruel, but she had been too wrapped up in her own miseries to care much about the miseries of her child. His father – well, Severus was usually glad when his father didn't pay attention to him as it usually meant his belt and a furious, drunken rant about magic. His teachers at the muggle school he attended hadn't seen anything in him. That Snape kid was bright, they'd thought, but also sullen and dirty – a nobody.

And then he had come to Hogwarts. All Dumbledore needed to do was invite him up to the Headmaster's office once or twice and give him a few lemon drops, and he had gained Severus' loyalty – at least as much as anyone could ever gain Severus' loyalty.

Severus looked around at the familiar trappings of the Headmaster's office. The portraits staring down at him, the Sorting Hat, all of Dumbledore's odd and interesting little objects.

Dumbledore had been as much a disappointment to Severus as Severus was to him. In the end, he hadn't really seen anything special in Severus. The old man always favored perfect Gryffindors like James Potter.

Severus repressed his anger and his annoyance. He knew that he couldn't appear defiant for this interview – he had to be repentant or Dumbledore would just see a hopeless Death Eater.

Severus tapped his fingers on the arm of his chair as he waited. Where was the old man? By the time Dumbledore finally did walk in and sit down, Severus had worked himself into a state of nervousness. But he had learned how to not let his nervousness show. He clenched his fist under the sleeve of his robe and schooled his face into a neutral expression.

"Hello, Severus," Dumbledore said in a pleasant tone of voice. Dumbledore was nothing if not pleasant.

"Hello, Professor," Severus replied. Couldn't hurt to be respectful.

Dumbledore smiled. "Would you like a cup of tea? A sweet, perhaps?"

"No, sir," Severus said, clenching his fist harder.

"Ah, straight to the matter at hand then," Dumbledore said, lacing his fingers together and looking at Severus intently. "So tell me, Severus, why do you think you'd make a good spy for us?"

Severus felt like laughing. It was as if this were any old job interview and Dumbledore was reading questions off a list. "I am in the Dark Lord's inner circle," he answered. "I'm guessing that not many of your spies can say that. I can tell you what the Death Eaters' real plans are, not just give you the nonsense that they put out to all their followers. There will be situations where I will be able to tell you exactly when and where they will strike. Exactly who will be involved. I regularly have contact with the Dark Lord himself. I am also a skilled Occlumens, so there is little chance that he will be able to find out about my true allegiances as has happened with others."

Dumbledore raised his eyebrows. "A skilled Occlumens? I did not know that," Severus felt subtle probing at the edge of his mind. He allowed Dumbledore to get in just far enough to feel safe and then slammed up his walls. Dumbledore was a decent Legilimens, but Severus had met better – the Dark Lord among them.

"Well, that is a usable talent," Dumbledore said. "When did you learn it?"

"I started in Sixth Year. I've been perfecting it since. It always interested me – being able to protect your mind."

"Yes," Dumbledore said, with a small smile, "you've always been a secretive person, haven't you Severus?"

Severus shifted. "I suppose." People had told him this before. He supposed that secrecy had been a skill he had learned at a young age – when he couldn't tell the teachers or neighbors or other children what went on at his home.

"There was always something more to you," Dumbledore went on, "something under the surface. Most children are easy to read, but even at eleven, I never quite knew what was going on in that head of yours. You were almost a natural Occlumens, did you know that? You didn't have the smooth technique of someone who has been taught, but your mind was naturally guarded."

Severus felt vaguely angry at the idea of Dumbledore probing at his eleven-year-old mind, but he suppressed his annoyance.

Dumbledore went on. "So you can see why I am reluctant to allow you in the Order, Severus. It is not because I don't believe that you have the capacity to be a good man, because I do believe that. I have always believed it. It is because it is hard for me to know, for certain, that I can trust you. If I only had to place my own life in your hands, then I would do it. But the lives of many others may depend on your actions."

Severus managed to keep himself from panicking. He looked straight into Dumbledore's blue eyes. "I want this, sir," he said. "I hate the Dark Lord. I hate what they are doing. I don't want to just be sent to a safe house to hide out the rest of the war. I want to help stop him."

Dumbledore tapped his fingers on his desk. "I see," he said. "May I ask you a question, Severus?"

"Of course."

"How do you feel about muggles?"

Severus paused. "You know my father was a muggle --"

"Yes," Dumbledore interrupted. "I know that. I also know that your feelings toward your father aren't the kindest. I'll ask you again. How do you feel about muggles?"

Severus tried to summon up some of the "muggles are just as good as wizards" nonsense that he knew Dumbledore was fond of, but thought twice. Dumbledore may find Severus' mind harder to read than most, but the old man would know if he was just repeating propaganda and not answering honestly.

"I don't like most of them," he admitted. "But I see no reason that they should be killed or enslaved either."

"And what about muggleborns?" Dumbledore asked. "How do you feel about them?"

An image of Lily, her red hair damp against the pillow floated briefly before Severus' mind. "I think that they should have the same rights as any wizard," Severus said, surprised at his own calmness.

"I see," Dumbledore said. "And what made you change your mind since you joined the Death Eaters a few short years ago?"

Severus sighed. "I never fully believed everything they said about muggles and muggleborns," he answered. "It was just – all my friends were joining. And they kept telling me how talented I was and what a great asset I would be to their side and – I was an idiot."

This was hard for Severus to admit. He was a person who knew his own weaknesses. He knew that he would never be handsome or charming. But he at least liked to think that he was intelligent.

"Ah. I wonder if you would allow me to try something, Severus. I would like for you to lower your walls – even if it is just for a few seconds – so that I can get a peek into your mind."

Severus hesitated. Much as he hated the idea of Dumbledore poking around in his mind, he knew that it was likely the only way that Dumbledore would ever believe him. "I don't know if I can," he said, at last. "I was trained in how to put walls up, not in how to let them down."

Dumbledore nodded. "I understand that," he said. "But I would like you to try. Do you think you can do that, Severus?"

What choice did Severus have, but to nod and agree? When he felt Dumbledore's gentle prying, he did not resist this time, but rather tried to think of all the things the Dark Lord had done that he hated and tried to convey his feelings of hatred to Dumbledore – he may not be able to block Dumbledore, but he could influence what the old man saw. Dumbledore quickly shifted through a memory of the Cruciatus curse being used on Severus and several other unsavory Death Eater moments. Severus could sense that Dumbledore wasn't terribly interested in these memories. Then, as she was nearly always somewhere in his mind, a memory of Lily came to Severus and Dumbledore latched onto it, firmly.

It was the last week of Hogwarts and Lily had approached him in an attempt to leave with some sort of goodwill between them. Severus had been eager to accept her friendship, but Lily had squeezed his wrist (she was always one for physical gestures) and Severus had gasped where her fingers touched the Dark Mark and drawn his arm back. He could see the hurt and surprise in her eyes – it was when she first knew that he had joined the Death Eaters. A moment later, Severus saw himself being tormented by James Potter and his gang. Lily had rushed to his rescue and he had called her a mudblood. Then, he saw himself, much younger, watching Lily and her sister Petunia on the playground. She had seemed amazing – a true piece of magic in Severus' dark and dreary world – if only he could meet her. A moment later, he saw himself kissing Lily, unbuttoning her blouse, crying but at the same time so pathetically happy that she actually cared anything about him.

"STOP IT!" he yelled as he pushed Dumbledore out. He leapt to his feet. "You had no right, old man," he said, pointing an accusing finger at Dumbledore. "No right, do you hear me? Those things that you saw were personal!"

"Yes, I am sorry Severus. You are correct that perhaps I went to far in viewing your personal memories," Dumbledore said, quite calmly.

"I'm leaving," Severus spat. There was no chance that Dumbledore would let him join the right side now that he knew that Severus had dared take James Potter's girlfriend – no, wife – away from him, even for just one night. And Severus was almost too angry to care.

"I wish that you would sit, Severus," Dumbledore said, quietly. "This shouldn't take much longer." If Dumbledore had snapped at him, Severus would surely have left, but there was something about the calm politeness that made Severus obey, though inside, he was raging.

"Would you say that your love for Lily Potter is the main reason for your forsaking the Death Eaters? The main reason that you believe in muggleborn rights?"

Severus wanted, so badly, to deny it. To say that he certainly didn't love Lily, that he didn't care anything about her, that she was just a silly childhood friendship now gone bad. But he couldn't deny it. "Yes," he said, crossing his arms and giving up any hope of being allowed in the Order.

Now Dumbledore would know that his feelings about muggleborns and magic and all the issues that this war was being fought over were not based on a high-minded adherence to the right ideology, but on his love for a single woman. How pathetic and small he must seem to the always righteous Albus Dumbledore.

But Dumbledore did not mock Severus. He did not tell Severus to go back to the Death Eaters. He did not even shake his head sadly and say that Severus, unfortunately, could not be trusted.

He simply stood and extended his had across the desk to Severus, clearly wanting a handshake. "Welcome to the Order of the Phoenix, Severus Snape," he said. Severus shook his hand, feeling as if he were in a dream.

--- -- ---

"Would you please explain to me, again, why we are playing a game that none of us understands?" Remus asked.

Sirius sighed. Really. Here he was, trying to expose his friends to new and unique things and they were fighting him every step of the way. "It's called 'poker', Mooney, and muggle males often play it to cement their friendships. And, you know, so they have an excuse to drink and gamble," here he grinned at James. "Actually, I think it may be more common in America than here --"

Peter, who seemed to understand the game the least, was scratching his head. "So we're playing an American muggle game?" he asked.

"Honestly, chaps, I am the one who comes from an incredibly narrow-minded conservative pureblood family. You wouldn't think I'd be the one educating all you about muggles."

"But we don't spend every spare minute researching muggle vices," Remus said.

"More like muggle women," James muttered with a smirk.

Sirius drained his drink – some sort of muggle beer to go with the muggle game. He studied his cards, thoughtfully. A pair of eights wasn't an incredible hand, but as the others really didn't know how to play, he reckoned he had a pretty good chance of winning. "Some of us," he said to others, "are the type who can be satisfied with one woman," his eyes flicked to James. "And some of us," he gestured at himself, "are not."

James groaned at this, Peter laughed nervously and Remus rolled his eyes. "I've already been through all the decent witches. I figure that it is only fair to give the muggle girls their chance at Sirius Black. Besides, can you imagine how angry it would make my parents if I married a muggle?"

"What do we do now?" Peter asked.

"Oh, er …" Sirius said, trying to remember. "Time to show our cards, I guess. I've got a couple of eights. Let's see – James, nothing, Peter nothing, and – how the hell did you get a straight, Mooney?"

Remus smiled. "Beginner's luck? Does this mean I get the money?"

"Yes," Sirius said. They'd only been playing for small amounts, but Remus always seemed to need money so much that Sirius now wished that he'd betted more.

James rolled his eyes. "This game is boring, Padfoot," he said. "I really preferred it when you were on your muggle alcoholic drinks of the world kick."

"I don't know," Remus said, counting his winnings "I'm starting to like it."

"Well, I'd probably still be on that kick if Lily didn't disapprove of me giving you hard liquor so strongly," Sirius told James. "The only reason I even had us play this game tonight is because you told me that Lily wouldn't be around. Poker is a manly game."

"Where is Lily?" Peter asked, sounding concerned. "I haven't seen her in ages."

James scratched his head. "She's been feeling sick," he said.

"Still?" Remus asked. "That's what you told me the last time I saw you."

Sirius silently cursed himself. He was James' best mate and he had known that Lily was sick. He should have been the one to ask about her.

"I know," James said. "I'm starting to get really worried about her. I wouldn't even have come tonight, but that she seemed eager to get me out of the house. She's been to the doctor a couple of times – hopefully, they'll be able to figure out what's wrong. Yesterday morning, she was vomiting."

"She was vomiting?" Peter asked, his eyes widening. "Did you ever think that she might be – you know --" Peter held his arms out around his stomach and puffed out his cheeks.

"Now that's not very nice, Wormtail," Sirius said with a grin. "James has never gone for stick girls, but I wouldn't call Lily fat."

"I wasn't --" Peter began, but Remus interrupted him.

"Pregnant?" he asked. "You think Lily is pregnant?"

Peter shrugged. "When my mum was pregnant with my little sister, she used to vomit in the mornings."

Sirius looked over at James who had turned very pale. His mouth formed the word "pregnant", but no sound came out.

"I think Peter may have a point," Sirius said, regretfully. "When was the last time Lily had her – you know – her womanly time of the month or whatever they're calling it these days."

"I don't keep track of that!" James said, seeming to regain the powers of speech all at once. "But – oh, God, I think it's been a while. I – oh, God. I've got to get back home." James jumped up and walked swiftly to the other side of the apartment.

Sirius bit back an objection. Lily being pregnant was way more important than James playing poker with him. "Don't forget shoes, Prongs," Sirius said, as James had taken off his shoes at some point and now seemed ready to Apparate.

"Right," James said, finding them, and pulling them swiftly onto his feet. Sirius heard the pop as he Apparated.

Remus was now gathering up the cards and stacking them, neatly.

"I had better leave too," Peter said, his voice squeaking. Sirius wasn't surprised. Peter had always been closer to James than to either Sirius or Remus. Sirius liked Peter well enough, but when James wasn't around, he found that Peter didn't fit in quite as well.

Unfortunately, though, after Peter left, he and Remus were left staring at each other. Things had been tense between them lately, though Sirius couldn't quite put his finger on the reason.

Remus gave him a half-smile. "Well, as long as everyone else is leaving, I guess that I might as well go too," he said.

"You too?" Sirius whined. "You live here, Mooney."

"I know, but I put off important business so I could be here tonight and I think I still have time to get it done if I hurry."

"Hot date?" Sirius asked, waggling his eyebrows.

Remus rolled his eyes. "Order business," and the air between them immediately became tense again. Remus was incredibly secretive about his Order business and Sirius could never understand why. They weren't exactly supposed to discuss it openly, but James and Peter always managed to talk about at least some of what they were doing. Why was Remus so strange about it?

"Well, run along then. Don't let me stop you," Sirius said, waving a dismissive hand.

Once Remus left, Sirius stared around the empty room for a good long time. Then, he went to the liquor cabinet and pulled out a bottle of Firewhiskey