Author's Note: first of all, I'd like to thank all my reviewers for being so patient - you people have been awesome! Secondly, and this is to address one of my reviews, this story will NOT turn into an all-out tragedy - there will be romance and a few laughs too. But one has to realize is that Severus and this generation are growing up in a dark time, and that shadow affects all of them - and that becomes even more apparent in this chapter.
Thirdly, and most importantly, the next few chapters after this will be about Severus over the summer at Spinner's End, and his very difficult relationship with his parents. Now, I've read a LOT of Severus fics with Tobias Snape in them, and I've seen several different viewpoints - I've seen him as a simple working-class man who drinks too much, I've seen him as a raging alcoholic who wants to change but can't, and I've seen him as a black-hearted bastard who has no compassion and morals. Since I loathe the last version (too unrealistic), I've chosen to create a unique perspective from what we've seen about Tobias Snape. Some might say I've taken a bit of a more compassionate route, but I've also tried to make him as realistic as possible, given his situation. After all, as Severus is discovering, there isn't just black and white.
I'm also placing a warning here for disturbing scenes, blood and gore, and strong language. I feel I really should, given how the chapter pans out.
So until next time, read, review, and enjoy!
Severus was up and packing well before dawn.
"You don't have to leave so early, Severus," Regulus muttered, flipping over on his bed as Severus snapped his trunk closed. "I was trying to sleep."
"No, you weren't," Severus replied curtly, not meeting Regulus' eyes.
There was no reply to that, and Severus knew he had been right.
"At least stay until morning," Regulus pleaded.
"I need to make an early start. My parents will be worried."
"Like a dragon's hind end they will be!" Regulus snarled, sitting up. "Severus, what is the problem with staying for a while?"
Severus didn't have an answer for it. Perhaps it was the edgy feeling in his gut that Sirius' haunted eyes had given him. Perhaps it was the last dire warning that the older brother had given his most hated enemy. Perhaps it was the fact that Mrs. Black planned to make a very public presentation of blowing Sirius off the family tree that next morning.
Either way, Severus knew he didn't want to be around in the morning to deal with it.
"Just until breakfast," Regulus pleaded. "Severus…"
"Regulus, I can't shoulder your burden," Severus said quietly, pulling on a tattered Muggle coat and hoisting his trunk. "You knew as well as I that this day would come. Well, it's here. I hope you're ready."
Regulus took a steadying breath. "Can I at least write to you?"
"Only send your letters at night," Severus warned. "My father has guns stored in the house, and he won't hesitate to use them in a little bird-shooting. I don't want to be eating your owl for lunch one morning."
Regulus clenched his fist. "Filthy Muggle. How can you even live there?"
I ask myself that question every day, Regulus, believe me, Severus thought darkly as he opened the bedroom door.
"Severus?"
He turned back, his dark hair hanging limply over his face. "Yes?"
Regulus' shadowed eyes glimmered in the pale light of the setting moon. "Thanks. For everything."
Severus turned away, unsure of how to respond, and feeling distinctly that if Regulus could, he would be following Severus.
Severus had been travelling on his own for a long time, and it wasn't difficult to buy a bus ticket so he could get home. As he handed his last Muggle notes to the sleepy attendant, he thought about how few wizards even knew how to recognize Muggle currency, let alone use it. It always shocked him – and disappointed him a little – that so many wizards were so woefully ignorant of the culture that surrounded them. If we think that we are so much better than they are, why is it that we look like fools among them? If they are our enemy as the Dark Lord proclaims, why are we not more informed about them?
Severus sat alone at the back of the bus, resting up against the cool glass of the window. He preferred the quiet ride of a Muggle bus to the hectic clamor of the Knight Bus – at least one could think, and move around without stepping in frogspawn. He looked out the window and watched as several burly workmen got onto the bus, making the early-morning commute to their jobs. None sat beside him, and Severus was grateful for the solitude. He needed time to think, to go over his list, and the past few days with Regulus seemed almost a whirlwind of events and emotions. Some of which I'm not comfortable with…
The bus rumbled into motion, and Severus looked out the window, watching as a Muggle police officer accosted a drunk waving an empty liquor bottle. The officer was armed, but he did not draw his weapon.
He was suddenly – and quite uncomfortably – reminded of his father, but he was unsure of which man – the drunk or the officer – brought the recollection. Hook-nosed, dark haired, and with a sarcastically bitter temperament, he greatly resembled his son. Severus had always wished he could lessen that resemblance when he was younger and when his parents argued, but as he got older, he had given up on that. Until now…
He reached inside his pocket and pulled out his scribbled list. The parchment was already starting to get worn, so Severus was careful as he pulled a cheap Muggle pen from his tattered jacket and scratched get new dress robes off the list. Thanks to Regulus…
Severus didn't know what to think about the young man. Regulus had always been haughty, cold to the point of iciness, and as willing as anyone to join the Death Eaters and become the Dark Lord's loyal servant. Yet Severus had seen a marked change come over the young man – an uncertainty, as if he was looking for something that he hadn't quite realized he had lost until recently.
Losing his brother hurt Regulus a lot, Severus thought, watching idly as the officer finally battered the violent drunk to the ground. And though he doesn't want to admit it, Regulus is feeling more lost than he'll admit. He's scared… scared of the Dark Lord, scared of his parents – that was easy to see – scared of any chance that might come to his structured little world. And since I was an agent of that change, he fears me and what I might do…
The bus took a hard turn onto the road, and Severus wondered, with a pang, whether or not Regulus considered him a friend. But what have I done to earn such a label? Sure, I've been there to help him, and I saved his brother's life from being ruined – and considering what that bastard nearly did to me in the Shrieking Shack, that's saying something - but we were always using each other for mutual advantage… can I trust him like a friend? Can I trust him like… like I trusted Lily?
He tried to shove thoughts of emerald-green eyes to the back of his mind, but they kept resurfacing, accusing and painful. I did nothing wrong, he thought uneasily, remembering how he held Narcissa in their last dance, how close she had been to him, the look of passion in her eyes that he knew mirrored his. Lily and I have gone our separate ways, and there's nothing wrong with what I did with Narcissa. It was just a dance!
Ah, but was it just a dance? the snide little voice that always seemed to resemble James Potter's hissed in his mind. Go a little farther and some might call it 'erotic…'
Severus shoved the thoughts away with a snarl and turned back to his list. I can work with my hair this summer if I have the right stuff – Narcissa should be able to send me that book she mentioned. New clothes…well, I'll have to work on that. Mother and Father won't give me money – how can they? – but I'll work if I have to. Hell, if I get enough Muggle money, I might be able to afford my own supplies and robes this year!
Now, dealing with my relative lack of muscle… this really is not my specialty, but if I found a good physical activity that's not Quidditch, I might be able to build decent bulk. Football's out, though… if Father ever saw me playing that…
Despite himself, he swallowed hard at the memory. He had been just six when his father had joined a recreational football league. According to his mother, Tobias had been good when he had played when he was with the Armed Forces. Severus remembered cheering as his father ran up and down the field, laughing and joking as he never did when he was at home. But then one rainy day, during a particularly rowdy game, he remembered watching his father go down, clutching his right calf…
He remembered the doctor saying that it was a fracture – a stress fracture, he called it, from playing too much – but at Tobias' age of forty-two, it would take much longer to heal, and that he might never play football again…
Since then, Tobias Snape had never set foot on a football field again, not even to watch.
Perhaps I could run, Severus thought, trying to shove away the memories of his heart-broken father in the doctor's office, clutching onto the football like a drowning man holds onto a life jacket. Perhaps, if I did enough running and started doing exercises, I might build some muscle – at least enough to play Quidditch…
He knew he had no proper clothes for running, so he added that to his list. The sun was slowly coming up across the grey sky, and Severus leaned against the window, his eyelids growing heavy…
He was standing alone, looking at the Mirror of Erised, looking at the life he dreamed he would have. The woman next to him in the mirror smiled and caressed his arms.
But for some strange reason, he could not distinguish the colour of her hair. No longer red, it was sliding across the spectrum… from black, to red, to white-blonde…
"No!" Severus screamed, slamming his fist into the Mirror, but to no avail. "I know who I want! I'm changing for Lily! I'm doing this for her!"
"You can't deny what your blood tells you, Severus," a cool voice said, as Lucius Malfoy stepped out from behind him. "But will it be Bellatrix, who you will have to win from Rodolphus, or will it be Narcissa, who you will have to take from me? Can you win a tempestuous witch flirting with darkness and already intrigued by your intellect and power, or can you win the girl who you swore to protect for the rest of your school year, even posing as her boyfriend? I wonder how dear Lily Evans will take that..."
"Lily is who I want," Severus whispered, blood running down his bleeding knuckles, tracing twisted lines across his hands. "I'm doing this for her."
"You're doing this for yourself!" Lucius hissed, his voice seemingly changing into Sirius' scowling tones. "You only want to emulate your betters… you won't come after Lily in the end… she belongs with James…"
"I'm doing this to win her back!" Severus screamed again. "To become a BETTER PERSON!"
"Some paths only lead one way, Severus." Severus didn't even turn – he recognized the mournful tones of Albus Dumbledore. "Some songs only end in bitter silence… a lasting dirge to a life well wasted…"
"Give up, Snivellus," Sirius hissed. "You'll never be good enough for her. She'll never forgive you, you Junior Death Eater…"
Severus could only watch, in horror, as Dumbledore's bearded face changed and twisted to become pale and cold, with blood-red eyes…
"You know there is no other way, Severus," the Dark Lord hissed. "All of your paths lead to me, and staring into the Mirror is naught but an idle dream…"
Severus spun, his wand suddenly in his hands. "DIE, YOU BASTARD! DIE!" He slashed his wand violently, and blood erupted from the Dark Lord's throat –
Except it wasn't the Dark Lord on the floor. It was Sirius, with Regulus sobbing over his body and cursing Severus' betrayal. It was Regulus, and Sirius swearing bloody vengeance with the Marauders behind him. It was James, with Lily sobbing over his body…
Severus tried to cover his eyes, but he could not. He howled in pain, but he knew he could do nothing…
It was Lucius now, with Narcissa holding poison in her hands, about to join her love in sweet death. It was Rosier, with figures in black robes standing by and swearing vengeance. It was Dolohov's wife Regina, with her husband broken and mad as he knelt beside her.
"You leave a legacy of blood, Severus," the Dark Lord's voice hissed, causing Severus to convulse in pain as he looked at his own hands and the blood seeping across them, from his bleeding knuckles and out from under his fingernails. "Everywhere, your hands are stained…"
He saw his father now, his wife sobbing over his body. He saw his mother, and his father lying against the wall in mute shock and horror, unable to say a word. He saw both of his parents, both dead from an identical slash across their throats…
He saw Dumbledore, crumpled on the floor like a broken doll, suddenly changed to grass, and although there was no blood this time, Severus knew whose wand did the deed.
"I'm changing for LILY!" Severus roared, tearing his eyes away from the visions and back to the Mirror, where his own reflection and that of the woman seemed blissfully unaware of what was happening. "NONE of this will HAPPEN! I DESERVE a better life!"
But he could only watch in stunned horror as his reflection in the Mirror drew a wand and pointed it between the breasts of the woman in his arms, whose hair continued to change colour…
"We all know the truth, Severus," the woman in the mirror said, and her voice seemed to be a combination of three – Narcissa, Lily, and Bellatrix. "And we know how it will happen…"
"No…" Severus gasped, his hands scrabbling against the mirror as he tried to wrench it free and slam it against the ground. His hands found purchase against the shattered edges, broken by his fist, and with a single roar, he slammed the mirror against the ground, sending a cloud of metal and glass into the air. He coughed and bled from countless cuts, but he didn't care. He looked up towards the frame…
Only to see his reflection, and the woman, standing right behind the empty frame.
"It's too bad," the reflection said lightly, "that you're the only one who can't see it."
Severus screamed as his reflection dragged his wand across the woman's chest, and a fountain of blood erupted from pale white skin… He fell to his knees and clutched as his own throat, where a gaping wound seemed to be forming at the side of his neck…
"You can't change the song," his reflection said sadly, his voice Dumbledore's, letting the woman's body fall with a wet thud onto the stone and approaching Severus, bleeding on the floor. "It's already been sung."
Severus looked up into the pits that his reflection's eyes were. He saw emptiness, hatred, resentment, despair… death…
"You can't change the song, Severus…"
"Yes… I… c-can…"
The words seemed to astound the reflection, who stepped back and began to fracture…
BOOM.
Severus' eyes snapped open, to see the bus-seat tilt crazily in his vision…
He threw himself back, but it was too late. With the crunch of metal on concrete and the hiss of sparks, the bus completed its tip, and landed with a heart-stopping thud on Severus' side. Glass exploded upwards, and Severus felt wet blood across his hands
His bones ached with the resounding pain, but he was already moving – he could hear the whoosh of flames at the front of the bus, and the screams of dying passengers. Thank God I shrunk my trunk! he thought as he kicked wildly at the back emergency exit door – which seemed jammed.
Why won't this damned thing – OPEN!
With one final kick, Severus dislodged the door – and not a moment too soon. He could feel the searing flames on his back…
Ducking his head, he dove out of the bus, moments behind the explosion of hot fire that consumed the very exit he had used.
He could feel his coat on fire, and he tore it off, violently rolling against the wet pavement to extinguish the flames. Yanking his wand free, he pointed it at his smoldering coat and muttered, "Aguamenti!" A quick spray of water put out the lingering embers that remained of his only coat.
He staggered against a lamppost and leaned haggardly against it. People were already swarming around the horrible accident, the bus burning furiously, consuming all the passengers who couldn't get out in time…
He could see men flopping on the ground, bleeding from a hundred cuts from shattered glass. He could see a few women, their hair on fire, thrashing on the wet pavement, trying to extinguish the searing flames...
The light drizzle that had begun in the grey dawn had shifted into a full downpour, but Severus didn't care. He only watched as the fire trucks, ambulances, and the police cars began coming, trying to haul anyone they could out of the wreckage. The rain soaked through his t-shirt and made his hair glisten in the light. I look like I'm drowning, and I'm not even below the water…
Everything seemed to blur…
"Son? Boy? Are you all right?"
Severus looked around frantically, searching for the source of the voice, until he pinpointed it – a man in a brown trench-coat, his reddish hair pressed flat against his head in the pounding rain.
"Good, you're awake," the man said with relief. "It's not safe just to fall asleep in the streets of London."
Severus struggled to his feet – in his daze, he had slumped to the ground alongside the lamppost. "I'm all right," he muttered. "Should be getting home…"
"Whoa there, son, you're not going anywhere until the doctors check you out… is that blood on your shoes, boy?"
Severus looked down and saw a ragged gash in his trainers, blood seeping out. Damn it, must have ripped open when I kicked open the back of the bus… Tearing a piece free from his t-shirt, he wound it around his foot to staunch the bleeding.
The man knelt close as Severus wounded the soaking bit of fabric around his foot. "You should get somebody to examine that… wait a moment, did you just get out of that bus?"
"The one that just blew up?" Severus remarked caustically. "Yes. Got out the back door."
"You're lucky to be alive, young man," the man muttered, more to himself than to Severus. "Irish Republican Army's probably behind this one, but I never knew they'd do something like this…"
Severus rubbed the bloodstains on the side of his torn trainer with disinterest. It'll be a while before those stains come out. Or I can just add new shoes to the list… the list! He frantically scrabbled in his pants pockets, and felt the worn scrap of parchment where he had scribbled down his notes. Thank God that it wasn't in my jacket…
"We need to get you checked for shock, boy," the man said, pulling Severus to his feet. "Half a dozen ambulances are here already… come on, boy, let's go…"
"You've got better – and more cooperative – patients to look after than me," Severus muttered, pulling away from the man.
"I still want to talk to you," the man growled. "So far, you're our best witness – or at least the best witness that we have who is still conscious. And you really should get checked out. I mean, from the looks of things, you've got cuts all over your hands…"
"I can handle it," Severus growled, shoving his hands deep in his pockets. Despite the sting that nearly brought tears to his eyes, he glared at the man. "I don't need help. Besides, it's mostly blood from my shoes," he lied.
"I still want to talk to you," the man said coolly, "and there's no need to be uncooperative. Now, I'm Private Investigator Richard Evans, and I'm the one who's in charge of this procedure. And we need all the information possible if we want to find whoever's responsible for this terrorism."
Severus froze. I knew I had seen that man before, he thought furiously, thankful that his soaked hair was hanging all over his face. That's Lily's father, and he knows who I am, too! The last thing I need is for Lily to be worrying about me when I'm like this… she needs to see me when I'm ready, not now!
"Well, young man, who are you?" Detective Evans said, steel in his voice. "Please don't make this difficult."
"Isn't that my specialty?" Severus spat caustically. "Look, I didn't see anything – the bus tipping over woke me up. I got out as soon as I could – kicked the back door open when it wouldn't open. Tore off my coat when it caught on fire, and then I guess I just passed out over here."
"The fact that you're passing out shows that you're sleep-deprived and susceptible to getting an infection in those cuts," Detective Evans said sternly. "And you didn't… hold on, you look familiar, I've seen you before!"
Severus turned away. "No, you haven't."
"Yeah, I have! You're that Snape boy that my daughter used to see all the time! What the hell are you doing on a bus out in this area?"
"I was heading home," Severus replied stiffly. "And if you'd excuse me, I'd like to continue that trip."
"Don't you live down on Spinner's End? That's a hell of a long walk, Snape," Detective Evans said skeptically.
"Then I'll take another bus," Severus replied shortly.
"You honestly think that buses will be running this way any time soon?" Detective Evans gave a bitter laugh. "You'd be better off getting a ride in my car, or I can get one of the other officers to give you're a lift home."
The last thing I want is for Lily to see me in your car, Severus thought darkly, even though he yearned in his heart to see Lily. But as you won't stop pestering me, I guess I'll have to take you up on one of your offers.
"You have work to do here. Since you were so kind to offer me a ride, I'll ride with one of the other officers."
"You should get some dry clothes too," Detective Evans said sharply. "Why don't you come with me? It might be a bit of a wait, but I'm sure Lily might want to see you."
Severus gave a disgusted snort. "That ship has sailed, Mr. Evans."
"What the hell happened between you two anyways?" Detective Evans asked angrily, his voice lowering ominously. "She didn't want to wait for you this year –"
"We had a falling-out," Severus snapped curtly – he had no desire to purse this topic of conversation any more. Just go away, he thought to himself. Just go…
"You must have," the detective snarled, grabbing a hold of Severus' soaked shirt. "Look, I don't know what happened between the two of you, but something happened. My daughter was crying when I picked her up, and that's never happened before, young man. Would you have had anything to do with that?"
Severus just stared at the man, a mixture of disinterest and pain in his eyes, even as images of that fateful day by the lake appeared in his mind.
Detective Evans glared at him for a good long time before shoving him aside with a disgusted snort. "Fine. Don't talk. I'll get one of the officers to take you home – and I won't tell Lily I found you here, even though she's the best thing that ever happened to you. And you were the same for her. I won't tell her because I love my daughter, and I don't want to see her cry when she hears where her old best friend has been."
"You do that," Severus returned, barely even hearing the words and turning away yet again to stare at the smoldering bus as Detective Evans exchanged a few words with another police officer.
He wiped the water off his face and pulled his hair back…
And froze. His casual motion had given him a clear view of the dark grey skies so typical of London.
It had also given him view of a gigantic green symbol etched across the sky, already fading into the thick grey clouds – a skull with a snake erupting out of its mouth. He had seen that symbol before - most of the Slytherin boys had drawn it on their notes at some time or another. Severus had drawn it himself at one time, and had quickly scratched it out before Professor McGonagall could see it.
The Dark Mark.
New thoughts were blazing in Severus' mind now. Why would the Dark Mark be set above a crashed bus? A Muggle bus, at that?
The answer came to him easily, and it sent a shiver down his spine as he stepped into the waiting police car. Rosier used to say that the Death Eaters murdered Muggles for fun, not because they had any particular grudge. They just hated them, and wanted to massacre as many as they could. A bus loaded with them would be a perfect target – and given that the IRA is active in this area, they have the perfect excuse. Makes cleanup so much easier. And I… I doubt they even knew I was here. If I had died, I would have been collateral damage. Chaff.
As he ducked his head into the warm car, he chanced another glance at the sky, the symbol nearly gone in the pounding rain. He didn't look at Mr. Evans – his mind was not on Lily, but on one truth that sent another chill down his spine.
This is only the beginning. It will get worse.
