Gavin's Choice

I blinked as the man in black from my dreams appeared out of the air. For some reason the sight of him made me feel glad. I had been waiting for him for ever so long, I thought. He was . . .I couldn't remember his name . . .but I'd known it once . . .I struggled to think past the blue and white fog in my mind, but it was so damn hard! And my father gripped me so tightly it hurt, holding me against him. I tried to move and he snarled, "Freeze, damn you, boy!"

I obeyed.

"What a brave man you are, Hawthorne," sneered the man in black, pointing a black stick at my father. "Using a child as a shield. And you call yourself a soldier. Pathetic!"

I blinked. Was that what he was doing?

"Shut your mouth, blasphemer! My son is here because he wants to be. Right, Johnny?"

"Yes, sir," I answered.

The man in black laughed. "He's only saying what you want to hear because of the drugs you've given him. The real Gavin is never so obedient."

Huh? Drugs? Was that why my head felt so weird? Because of drugs?

"That's not his name. He's not your son, he's mine! John Hawthorne." He turned to me and whispered. "Don't listen to the warlock. He lies."

Of course he did. That was what all warlocks did, they lied. And yet . . .I remembered Father making me drink that funny-tasting Coke . . .why did he do that? I focused on the warlock's voice, which was low with fury, and so very very familiar. I'd heard that voice many times . . . instructing, scolding, even humming to me . . .Yes, I remembered the warlock sitting beside my bed, running a hand through my hair and humming to me so I would go to sleep . . . Then the blue mist swirled and I couldn't recall anything else. What was real?

"Don't listen to that bastard who calls himself your father, Gavin. He's using you, like a tool. He can't even bear to admit the truth of what you are, son."

"What am I?" I spoke for the first time.

"A wizard. Like me. Don't you remember who I am, Gavin? Severus Snape, your dad. I gave you your name, Gavin Albus Snape. I gave you a home, a family. Don't you remember?" I met his eyes and in them was a desperate longing and something else . . .something I'd never seen in the eyes of the Captain . . .love. But how could the evil warlock love me?

"Lies! Pay no attention to him, boy! I'm your father, not him!" raged Hawthorne. "Blood is thicker than water."

I nodded dumbly. Gavin Albus Snape? Was that my name? Yes, I recalled using it . . . before that, I hadn't had a name . . .I'd been called Freak, Creature, Boy . . .and I'd been beaten for doing . . .magic . . . I began to shiver violently . . .I glanced back up at the warlock who called himself Severus Snape . . .Snape . . .a name to be proud of . . .

"Paternity doesn't make a father, Hawthorne. You'd know that if you ever raised a child, instead of abandoning him on a doorstep to be raised by a sadist who beat him for every little thing. Some father you are!"

Abandoned on a doorstep . . .that struck a chord in me . . .yes, I was the baby on the doorstep . . .I shook my head slightly, trying to clear it of the damned blue mist . . .why couldn't the mist go away . . .?

"Better than you, Snape! At least I didn't tempt him into evil, with your filthy magic! All children need discipline. Spare the rod and spoil the child."

I flinched at that. I knew that saying, had heard it countless times while feeling the sting of a switch or a strap. Spare the rod and spoil the child. Which I ain't, you devil spawn. I'll beat the devil magic out of you, freak, if it's the last thing I do! Yelled another voice in my head and I saw a narrow pinched face man with a shock of wild gold hair, eyes blazing with hate. Ferrous. That was his name. Ferrous. The demon of my childhood.

I darted a glance up at Father. Had he left me to that? But why? What had I ever done to deserve that?

"Oh, please! There are better ways of showing love and discipline than a strap, you miserable bastard. Better than drugging him into oblivion too. Do you know your son never even had a name until I adopted him, Hawthorne? Not even a bloody name! Now what the hell kind of parent doesn't give their own son a name?"

"I gave him one!"

"Not that he ever knew!" snapped the warlock. "He was called Freak and Boy for all of his childhood, if you can call it that."

"Ferrous assured me he knew who he was . . ."

"Oh he knew who he was, all right. Lower than dirt, a freak that used magic!" spat the other, his eyes blazing. "Such love you showed your son, Hawthorne! I ought to nominate you for Parent of the Year!" he turned to me then. "Gavin, remember your Windstorm? You loved flying on it . . .remember Scout, he's your dog . . .and Arista, your sister, the Healer . . .Fireflash, your friend the bronze dragon . . .Try and remember, scamp . . .Fight whatever drug they've given you, son. You can do it, Gavin. Remember me."

"SHUT UP!" screamed my father. "Enough of your heathen lies! He's my son, not yours! And he'll obey me in all things."

"Or else what? Will you beat him into obedience? Or kill him, like you did the other witches?"

I barely heard them, I was drowning in a sea of images. Snape's voice conjured pictures in my head, wonderful images that battled with the dark ones . . .of flying, of learning magic from a bronze dragon, of an auburn-haired young woman hugging me and telling me she loved me . . .of a golden dog chasing me through the grass . . .If these were lies, then why did I recall them so clearly?

Other images came, faster and faster. I was holding a quill in my hand and the warlock Snape was patiently showing me how to write with it . . .Hold it like this, Gavin. Very good! . . .and then we were stirring a milky white potion together . . .Now you add the essence of rue, son . . .I was sick, and again he was there, giving me a pink potion and tucking me into bed . . . holding me after a nightmare . . .it's okay, you're my wonderful magic son, and there is nothing evil about you . . .Nothing evil about me. I was a wizard, and I was good. . .well, sometimes . . . another memory flickered, and this time Snape was glowering at me . . .Mind that tone, young man! I won't be spoken to like that . . .you're grounded for a week . . .I winced, and heard myself apologize, and then arms were about me, and he whispered . . .I forgive you, just don't ever do it again, Gavin . . .I won't Dad, I promise . . .I felt as if my brain were being torn in two, as I struggled to hold onto those memories before the blue mist snatched them away.

"That was right, they deserved to die. Thou shalt not suffer a witch to live!"

"And who died and made you God, Hawthorne? How are you any better than me, you who kill without remorse and justify it to yourself by saying it's God's will? Last time I read the New Testament, Jesus spoke to his disciples and said "A new commandment I give unto you, that love ye one another as I have loved you". Do you think He'd be pleased with the way you've been following His Word, Hawthorne? Killing innocent people, turning your own son into some kind of puppet and calling him a witch finder? Oh, how holy you are, Enforcer! Tell me, when you go to church on Sunday, do you confess to the priest how many witches you've killed that week? Or do you leave it out because they don't matter?"

"I do God's work, Snape! Unlike you, you spawn of darkness!"

There was an odd burning on my chest, and I looked down and saw something glowing beneath my shirt. I closed my hand over it and suddenly the awful blue fog was gone from my brain and I could think clearly again.

The rune of clarity will enable you to see through any illusion or deception, even your own.

Fireflash's words echoed in my head and I gripped the dragonscale tighter.

I knew who I was. I was Gavin Albus Snape.

Gavin, the wizard, not the witch finder.

I felt myself cringe. What had I done?

I had led the Enforcer to my own kind and watched as he'd slaughtered them like animals.

Thou shalt not suffer a witch to live.

I had become the betrayer. I felt sick, unclean. What was I?

"Isn't that right, Johnny? Tell the warlock, my witch finder, that it is the fate of he and his to die in fire."

I twisted in Hawthorne's grip, desperate to free myself of his vile touch. "Let go of me, you filthy bastard!" I shrieked. "I'm no son of yours!"

He stared down at me in astonishment. "What? How dare you?"

"Shove it up your ass, Daddy Dearest!" I spat. "Severus Snape's my father, and the name's Gavin!" He had my arms pinned, but I could still use my feet, and I did, slamming my foot back into his knee, just the way Colin had taught me in our martial arts lessons.

His leg crumpled like wet paper, and he screamed.

"You little bastard!" Then he slammed me along side of the head, knocking me on the ground. I tried to crawl away from him, but my head was ringing like a thousand bells and I couldn't move fast enough.

Then the wall exploded, and all I saw were black shapes, as Hunters sprang into the room.

"Don't just stand there, fools!" bellowed Hawthorne, stepping over me. "Fire at will!"

The sound of gun fire filled my head and I felt my head spin crazily.

I picked it up and looked to where my dad was standing, glaring at Hawthorne fit to kill.

Hawthorne fired, but the bullet bounced off the shield Dad had conjured. He smiled grimly.

"Technology isn't everything. Shall we finish this?" he pointed his wand and spoke a curse I'd never heard of.

Hawthorne's face started to turn blue and he gasped for air.

Then I heard a voice behind Severus shout, "Time to die, warlock!"

And the chatter of automatic weapon fire filled the room.

I could see the shield around my dad start to give, it wasn't designed to hold up under concentrated fire. He pointed his wand and shouted "Draco Inferio!" and the one shooting at him went up like a Fourth of July firework.

But it wasn't enough. There were more soldiers coming out on the balcony, shooting at the Hunters and my dad. There was no way they could stop all the bullets.

I called on my gift, summoning it up from somewhere deep inside, that I'd forgotten.

A shield of fire sprang up in front of the Hunters and my dad, absorbing the bullets.

"Gavin!" Dad called, but he didn't turn around, he kept his wand trained on the Brotherhood soldiers.

I narrowed my gaze, focused my power, and suddenly the balcony the five soldiers were standing on was wreathed in fire.

"You like burning witches, bastards?" I screamed. "How do you like it now?"

They screamed, backing away.

Behind me, Hunters were attacking the rest of the soldiers that had come out of the rooms, taking them out with Stunning hexes and other combat magic and also with several well-timed punches and kicks.

More doors slammed and I heard the sound of more of the Brotherhood coming to join the fray. I stood up, or tried to, and made fire coat the entrances to the front hall, making it impassable. There, I'd evened the odds a bit, I thought, pleased.

But my head was killing me, and suddenly I was dizzy again. I couldn't stand up and so I sat down, feeling my blood suddenly burn with something strange, like liquid ice. What was happening to me? I felt my magic slipping from me, fading into blue smoke.

"Dad!" I called, but my voice was a mere whisper.

I heard his voice, yelling at the Hunters to get clear. "Move! This place is going to go up in about ten minutes!"

I could hear the hiss and crackle of the fire as it raged, burning and devouring. It was so hungry . . .and I could not be bothered with calling it to heel . . .burn brightly . . .burn . . .there were black spots before my eyes now.

"Gavin!" I felt a hand on my shoulder. "Can you call the fire back?"

I shook my head. "No . . .can't . . ."

He swore, then picked me up. The movement upset my stomach and I threw up, but I managed to turn my head so it didn't hit him.

"Merlin, son, you've got reaction sickness or something," I heard him murmur. Then he was moving, carrying me somewhere towards fresh air. I felt him pause, and looked down to see the dying form of Matthew Hawthorne, dark eyes glaring up at me.

"What goes around comes around, Hawthorne," I heard Severus mutter. "This is what happens when you play with fire. It comes back to bite you in the ass. And just for the record, Gavin is my son, not yours. You killed your son the day you left him in Ferrous's keeping. John Hawthorne is dead. There's only Gavin Albus Snape, and he's no son of yours! He never was."

Hawthorne's mouth twitched, but nothing came out of it. An instant later he was dead, and we left him where he'd fallen.

I relaxed in my dad's arms. I knew whose son I was, and I smiled faintly before I passed out, just before we Apparated away in a flash of blue light.

Next: Though the Brotherhood has been dealt with, Gavin still has to deal with the repercussions of the Captain's treatment.