~Saturday 5 December – Early Evening - Sky full of indigo storm clouds

What a strange day it was, and my dream last night was stranger still. It seemed so real. Lily and I were walking to class. The hallways were bathed in warmth of orange sunlight as we made our way to the Potions Classroom - then suddenly we were already in class. We were brewing The Draught of Peace. Slughorn called over to Lily and asked her to help him carry a few cauldrons. She asked me if I would watch over her solution. I told her that I would. She thanked me but then she frowned. She looked at me with such sad eyes, then she told me that I would soon have another one to manage... When I woke up, I felt her with me still.

I went for a long walk after breakfast. I thought about her a lot. I remembered how we used to sit together and study while we were in Hogwarts... How in summer we would practice dueling with sticks and pretend we were characters in the stories... Sometimes she would be Asha, and I Sir Luckless... once we even placed an old shoe under one of her mothers pots and pretended it was the hopping pot.

I miss her so much.

At breakfast I thought about all the times in Hogwarts when she was not with me - when she was with her other friends. So often when I was with out her I would to long to walk through the grounds – but feared to do so. I knew I would be vulnerable to attacks from the Potter, Black and Pettigrew while Lupin watched – and looked out for professors. They were never caught. They could go out at any hour they pleased. I hated them for it. I always wanted so much to sneak out of the school as well but the sad truth of it was, I wanted to be leaving late at night with them. It was to my great shame - but I finally grew bold to sneak out alone. I was not like them, for I had no back up at all, so I was caught. I was punished with a terrible loss of house points and detention - things they always managed to avoid.

All that changed in my seventh year. With my own set of friends, we left the castle and the grounds whenever we pleased. We were never caught or punished. This was surely Avery and Mulciber's doing - even as a naive student I knew that. They were doing things, their fathers were doing things… bribing people, making threats, and using the Imperious Curse – they were ruthless.

Nothing has changed really… not for Avery at least. He still manages to avoid punishment. I thought about all this as I walked, and as I turned back to the castle I could not help but to dread what was to come. I would soon be in Malfoy Manor, surrounded by the lot of them.

When that thought crossed my mind I was no longer walking. I tore off running through the woods fueled by my fear and my fury. I felt possessed. The trees and fallen logs were nothing. If one were to suddenly appear in my path I would jump one and dodge the latter. Even the roots that caused me to stumble along the way barely managed to slow me down. My mind raced...

What will it be like to see Avery again? How will Lucius Malfoy act towards me? Will he be suspicious of me? Of course he will - they all will be! They all knew I had been a spy for The Dark Lord. Some of them would have known that he had ordered to take up a post at the school. I could easily claim that I am still acting upon his orders. They all lied to avoid punishment – certainly they will all be sympathetic to the fact that I had to do the same… And as much as I hate to admit to it – Dumbledore's plan of having me name only those who had betrayed the Dark Lord will pay off far sooner than either of us has expected it to I think. Dear God, my lies and Dumbledore's lies were better than the lies of the Death Eaters. Avery named Mulciber, his friend – and Karkaroff, that idiot, he named nearly all of us. I named those like Evan, whom they had disowned and marked for death...

I hate it when Dumbledore is right. Or is he? Will Evan's family curse me for what I have done to him in spite of the fact that they had practically disowned him? What did it matter? Either way I hated Dumbledore for his having made me lie about Evan in my trial.

I was cursing him, Karkaroff, Avery – all of them as I neared the castle. I climbed the old set of cracked stone steps that had been carved into a hill centuries earlier. I stared up at the massive structure of the Castle. Its tall towers seemed to piece the overcast afternoon sky. Just as I thought to curse Dumbledore again – I felt a stabbing pain in my arm. The Dark Mark burned with such an intensity that my entire arm grew hot. I stopped to catch my breath as I waited for the pain to subside. I wasn't breathing heavily from the pain – it was the fear. Why was my arm burning?

It is frequently soar. It stabs me with sudden pain several times a day. Most of this I think is in my head as it only hurts when I feel guilty or upset. Other times I know that it is merely the residual pain from the horrible curse he placed upon us.

What was so disturbing was the fact that the pain I felt in this afternoon was so much worse - and it it happened upon me so suddenly and for no apparent reason. As soon as the pain stopped I hurried for the castle. I longed to be safe behind the protection of it's walls. I thought about going to Dumbledore, but I didn't. Instead I calmed down and returned here to my room. I decided to write.

I think I was right in not having troubled him. Looking back upon the incident, I realize now that I was over reacting. There is no danger or reason to fear what I felt. That pain in my arm, surely came to me as a result of my own anger – that and from my being anxious about the Christmas Party. If I feel such pain again I will mention it to Dumbledore.

It's strange - my lungs are still burning from before. I've never run like that in my life - I am not used to breathing like that either... The cold air certainly didn't help. Stranger still, I like this pain. I'm not even concerned about that either, because the pain and the feeling that I get from it is so completely different from the pain that I have caused myself in the past. I really think running helped me - even more so than walking does. I will have to try that again - though perhaps not tomorrow.

I have one last thing to do now. My ring. The solution came to me while I was running. I can no longer wear it. The ring reveals too much about me and I shall have no markings about me which show any affinity to anything. Still, it is all that remains to me of Evan, and he was the last friend I ever had... I mean to take the serpent ring that he gave us and sew it into the lining of my coat - just inside the pocket. I will be aware of the metal circle whenever my hands are in my pockets of my coat and no one will know that I have it.

~Sunday 6 December – Not even noon yet...

Will there never be an end to this!? Even now- but it's over - it's over! There is no end to their cruelty - but she would - for she is a sick woman and Rodolphus and Rabastan are no better. As to the boy being a part of it - I don't know, but this is beyond awful.

Filch found me in the Library. I was at peace. I was in the process of finding new books to read, but he told me that Dumbledore had wanted to see me. So to his office I went already feeling sick and afraid.

It was a brief meeting. He wanted to explain his absence, and to tell me what had happened before the news was all over The Prophet. How they have kept it quiet even for this long I do not know...

The two Aurors, Frank Longbottom and his wife Alice were found last night... Dumbledore said the spell damage was so severe that they will likely never recover. I went to school with them. They... I feel sick - their son is almost the exact same age. Did the Lestranges think that there had been some mistake? Dumbledore said that the Lestranges and Crouch's son seem to have committed the act in an attempt to get information out of the two Aurors. They wanted to find The Dark Lord and for some reason believed that the Longbottoms knew where to find him.

I wish I could believe that.

I didn't stay to ask the question. I am sure the entire Wizarding World will be reeling when they find out that Crouch's son was involved - but I don't care if he is one of them or not. I did not care to stay and hear how the Ministry had managed to capture them. I don't even care that three of the most sadistic Death Eaters are now in Ministry custody or that Barty Crouch would surely be shamed for this. I asked to leave half way through his explanation and ran back to my room. The whole time I wanted to wretch. I still do.

Was this because of me?

They killed them... or as good as did - or worse. Did they think that their son might have been the boy in the prophecy? Was this my fault too? Have I ruined another family? Did I take two more lives and leave another child an orphan? Oh dear God I did.

~Sunday 6 December – Late Afternoon

I threw up. I threw up and then I went outside into the forest to run again. I'd go to Dumbledore. I'd ask him outright if this too was of my doing, but he has gone to The Ministry. By the time I had come inside after running he'd left. Everyone knows by now. The professors are talking about it, the students are talking about it, the portraits the ghosts - even Peeves. It is the only topic overheard in the hallways. I just keep walking with my head down. I know I am to blame. It is I who have done this to them…

I want so desperately to talk to Dumbledore. Wait - I am not alone. Minerva - or Madame Pomfrey. The Staff Room.

~Sunday 6 December – Late Night

I feel better now. I spent the afternoon in The Staff Room with Minerva and Pomona Sprout. At first it was terrible. Pomona cried a lot. Minerva was incredible - the way she consoled her. I saw it, she was holding back her own tears - and then they switched. Minerva began to cry and Pomona consoled her. It was terrible to watch them cry, but the way they took care of each other - well in some small way it was uplifting. At times they would even laugh through their tears as they recalled fond memories of their former students turned friends.

They talked to me too, asking me if I had known Frank and Alice well - which of course I hadn't. All I really knew of her was that she had a sweet face... Frank let me alone for the most part. I knew that he had been friendly with people that I had hated but I never had anything against him. He never taunted me or anyone else to the best of my knowledge. I never even thought much on them. It made me sad as I told Minerva and Pomona that I had not known them. I know they never would have been friends with me, as nice as they were and that made me upset too. I was never any good at making friends. People don't like me. I never smile - so they say, and I know never talk. It's not something I can help. But Alice was different. In every memory I recalled of her, she was smiling. She seemed so genuine and cheerful even when others around her were not. I don't know how she did it. I never know what to say in the best of situations, and smiling doesn't come naturally to me at all.

I was so good of Minerva and Pomona to talk to me today in spite of all my short comings. Even more so, the fact that they have accepted me in spite of my past has not been lost on me at all. I still felt terrible for what part I had to play in what happened to Alice and Frank, but just being in the same room as Minerva and Pomona gave me strength. Seeing them, the way the helped each made me remember what I am fighting for - why I still live.

I live for Harry. I live so that he will survive - and if he is truly lucky, he and all the children in this new generation will do so with out fear. This other boy, Neville - no it's not too late for him. Unlike Harry, he has a large family. They say he is with them now. Will they be friends I wonder? Dear God, they will be in school together - the same year. I will look down upon both boys and know that I have ruined their lives and have taken their parents form them.

I really want to cut myself right now, slam my head into a wall- or I want to drink until I pass out. I won't. Minerva. Pomona. Harry. I'm going to remain still and calm. Just breathe, don't think or feel. I am a soldier. I can do this.

~Monday 7 December – Late Night Cloudy

The Longbottoms are in Saint Mungo's. There is still no official word on their condition, but everyone knows they are too damaged to recover. Most don't want to accept it yet. There is so much talk in The Prophet and around the school already of the trial. It is going to be huge. Barty Crouch - the champion of the Wizarding World leading the battle against all dark Wizards having to try his own son. As if that wasn't enough - three of The Dark Lord's most fervent supporters will stand trial by his side. And since it is Bellatrix Lestrange - if her past antics are any indication, this will be a three-ring fucking circus for sure.

After my classes were finished for the day, I made it a point to pay Dumbledore a visit in his office. He still had not returned from The Ministry when I arrived. I glanced around at all of the portraits, hoping one of them might tell me when he meant to return, but they all ignored me and feigned sleep. Even Phineas who had so frequently informed me of Dumbledore's whereabouts snored far too loudly for it to be real. I could have visited Fawkes, but he - the symbol of The Order - I couldn't. I could not bear the way in which he looks at me. Alice and Frank had been Order members after all. Fawkes would certainly look at me knowing I had done in for another pair of Order members.

So I waited in the room - full of closed eyes that were upon me non-the less. I shivered at the thought. And when Dumbledore returned, they would hang upon our every word. Always I can feel them upon me - every time we cross words - the silent Greek chorus of former headmasters - silent but always there to act as witness and judge over me. I glared at them, I nearly called out to them in anger but my fear had gotten the better of me, sealing my lips like my beloved spell of Langlock...

Finally the door creaked open and the current Headmaster stepped through. "I wasn't expecting to see you Severus, is anything wrong?" he sounded as though he was irritated to see me. I could tell this, because his effort to sound pleasant was so forced that it was as impossible to believe as Phineas's snoring had been. Was he angry because he blamed me?

"Forgive the intrusion sir," for I truly was sorry, "I wanted to speak to you in regards to the Longbottoms."

"Yes?" He said as removed his traveling cloak and hung it in the wardrobe near the door. I could tell he was in no mood for this.

I wasn't even sure where to start. Why had I not spent my time composing my sentences instead of contemplating the bird and the portraits? "Sir, the reason that the Lestranges attacked the Longbottoms - was it because of me? Was it because of the things I had said?"

He gave me such a peculiar look and for a moment Dumbledore was completely speechless until he finally asked, "What do you mean Severus?"

What? He didn't know - how could he not know? Did he not blame me? I swallowed hard, "Sir," my voice cracked from guilt and fear, "Did they attack the Longbottoms because of the prophecy - because I of what told him? Did the Lestranges think that The Dark Lord had chosen the wrong boy?"

His faced changed completely. He looked at me with a pity I had not seen since the night after I had jumped from the tower. "Surely you do not think that this is your fault." He shook his head and crossed the room to where I stood. "Severus, this was the last desperate act of three deranged minds in search of their master, for what are the Lestranges with out Voldemort too look to for answers? They need him to live almost as much as they need air. Why they believed the Longbottoms had information regarding Voldemort's whereabouts had nothing to do with you or the prophecy."

When he first began speaking, Dumbledore seemed to feel sorry for me - sorry over the fact that I was felt such guilt for what had happened to the Longbottoms. But by the time he had finished his explanation, his expression had changed, as if he'd remembered it all. Was he recalling that night on the hill when I told him what I had done? Was he thinking about the deaths of Lily and James, and how much trouble I had caused him since... I bit my lip.

"I'm sorry." I said. It was all I could say.

"As I have already told you," he said in a flat tone. "This was not of your doing."

I am so sorry - I wanted to tell him. I wanted to tell him that I was sorry for having caused all their deaths, for having eavesdropped on him and Trelawney that night, for telling The Dark Lord what I'd heard, for joining the Death Eaters in the first place, for how I had acted after their deaths...for troubling him tonight - for everything, but how could I? How can anyone even begin to express such remorse?

After what seemed like a very long time I finally looked up at him. I struggled so to start even a small part of the long list of apologies that I owed to him, but he stopped me and placed a hand upon my shoulder.

"There are many regrets we all must carry for the duration of our lives. Do not carry regrets needlessly. What happened to the Longbottoms was a terrible tragedy. The best thing that you and I can do for them now is to continue as planned. Keep Harry safe. I'm afraid these kinds of attacks will continue, despite the death of Voldemort." He looked at me. There was something dark in his bright blue eyes. "Now do you see why I have asked you to look after Harry? Now do you see how important it is that you are prepared to do your duty and attend the gathering at Malfoy Manner?"

"Yes," I said. His eyes carried far more weight than the hand that still rested upon my shoulder.

Finally he withdrew his hand but not his gaze. "Good, then I would ask you now to go back to your room and rest. Do not worry after The Longbottoms. They are in very good hands at Saint Mungo's. The Healers will look after them now. Get some sleep Severus."

"Thank you," I told him. And I left. I came back to my room to write. I suppose I could take his advice and try to sleep. I could also try to fly without the aide of a broom which would be far easier to do at this point. Sleep. Why does he always give such advice? Can he sleep at night? I don't see how he could - Dumbledore has more to worry about that anyone.

I suppose I could try. Perhaps he is correct in what he says about Alice and Frank. Bellatrix has tortured simply to be entertained before... Still what happened to them will haunt my dreams tonight - and when he is old enough, it will surely haunt the dreams of their infant son for the days of his life...

~Tuesday 7 December – Daybreak

As I knew they would be, my dreams were haunted by thoughts of the Longbottoms and the effects of the Cruciatus Curse. In my slumber I recalled all too clearly recalled, the first and only time that the curse had been used upon me. It was the summer just after I had left Hogwarts in the early days of my having been a Death Eater. I don't recall the reason, but there was a large meeting and I had been called to it. Bellatrix danced about, singing proudly of the fact that she was the only woman in attendance. She had been prone to random acts of near madness before, but by that time they were quite common place. Gone were the days when one could have any semblance of rational conversation with her.

At some point, the song and dance turned dark. The others were drinking and acting almost as irrational she had been without benefit of alcohol. Several of the male Death Eaters - most of whom I did not know began playing games. These were the foolish kind of games one would expect of the brawny boys in Gryffindor. They cursed each other, seeing who could take the most pain. I sat quietly watching them with such profound contempt that I did not dare display on my face.

Still it was inevitable. "What's the little Half-blood boy doing here!?" Her shriek cut the night air. Everyone present fell silent as she began to rant and scream. "He's too little - too low ranking to be here tonight! -Thinks he's too good he does! How would you like a taste of a Stinging Jinx to the face!?" She was laughing her head off at this. "Well, what - nothing to say to me?"

"I am not afraid of you Bellatrix." I stood up. Even at eighteen I was nearly a head taller than her. I knew it would anger her. I knew it would only get me several Stinging Jinxes to the face or worse - but I was used to such abuse from bullies, and I wasn't going to give her the satisfaction of calling me a coward.

She was worse than angry. She went off her head and screamed nearly incoherently. "Rabastan!" she screamed as she slapped her brother in law to push him out of the way, "Where is my fucking husband - fetch him now and have him teach this little wretch a lesson he will not soon forget!"

The next thing I knew, Rabastan, Rodolphus and several other men I had never seen were upon me. At that I did feel fear. My heart was in my throat but I did not dare let on my weakness. I glared at all of them and did not blink.

"How dare you speak to me like that you bastard wretch of a Half-blood!?" She grabbed my face but I fought to remain still and fearless in her grasp. "Rodolphus," she said, her voice dropping to a guttural tone, "Crucio the boy." She let go.

There was no warning. I felt all of my limbs wrench back as if I were being pulled apart by horses. All the blood in my veins became an acid that burned with the intensity of the sun and the fires of hell combined. I wanted to scream but I could not even take in the air to do so. The next thing I knew I had crashed to the ground with out even having felt the impact - for the pain of collision was nothing compared with to the excruciating effects of the spell.

It was all I could do to breathe as the pain subsided. I could not see, but I heard the voice of a woman who was not Bellatrix, "And don't let me see you doing that again with out The Dark Lord's permission. The both of you! You know what he would do if he had been here to see you use such a spell against another Death Eater without just cause."

"Damn you Sissy! I will do as I wish unless he himself gives the order." Bellatrix spat.

"And what will happen when he finds out what you have done and gives the order to have you punished? You know what he did to our mother when Andromeda refused to join us. Do you really think he will forgive you?" The woman stood just feet from me.

I looked up. Her blond hair was pulled back behind her head. She looked like Bellatrix, but there was something about her... I had never noticed before, but there was something close to kindness in her eyes. Despite the pain I still felt I forced myself to stand. I watched with the others who were all so fixated on the argument between the sisters. It was sad, and almost painful to stand by and watch as Narcissa Malfoy tried in vain to talk sense into her deranged sister...

I felt sorry for Narcissa, but all the while I kept thinking - I guess you're not the only woman good enough to be here Bella... That bitch.

The rest of my dreams that followed were much the same setting, only then it was the Longbottoms who were being cursed, and no Narcissa came to help them.

~Tuesday 7 December – Evening - Clear sky full of stars

It makes my skin crawl - nearly every article in The Prophet is about the upcoming trial and the alleged involvement of The Crouch boy. They barely mention the Longbottoms now. Typical. It is all about the spectacle to The Prophet and to The Ministry. Even the students speak of little else.

Minerva was the one bright spot. Over lunch she told me stories about the Longbottoms. I know she is still deeply upset. They were her students - she watched them grow up. They became her friends once they hadd joined The Order. It was sad, but it was far preferable to the rest of the Wizarding World missing the point on what had happened - and I knew it did her good to speak of them. I tried to keep my comments short, only asking questions which would allow her to continue telling her story.

There is to be a Quidditch match this weekend. It will not be postponed as the last one had been. I was upset at first but when I spoke with Minerva, I realized that it was for the best that it was still set to occur. She told me that she was greatly looking forward to it - as she does all matches. That is when I understood - if Quidditch once helped me to forget my troubles, than to her it will be a near miracle cure for her sorrow.

I am going out for a walk now, perhaps even a run. I know it is dark, but only in running myself to exhaustion will I be able to sleep on this night.

~Wednesday 8 December – Late Afternoon - Sun still lingers

Today was no different from the last few days. The Prophet now focuses almost entirely on the gallant and no doubt exaggerated tales of how The Ministry managed to capture the four alleged Death Eaters... that and the endless speculation on the massive trial that is to come. There is the occasional mention of the tragedy that has befallen the Longbottom family but not much else.

The most offensive articles have been those that discuss how all this business of the Longbottoms and the Lestranges is made far worse because the Christmas holidays draw so near. Why do people care about that at all? It is selfish really... They cannot concentrate on celebrating for fear that their merriment might be disrupted because they would be forced to remember that another family had to suffer such a terrible loss? Stupid.

I am not troubled by the time of year. However, something else has been troubling me deeply. My dream - my memory. I had not thought of it until today in class. Narcissa Malfoy came to my aid when I was under attack. She meant only to keep her sister and brother in -law out of trouble... but that was not so different from another time when a woman came to my aid while I was helpless and under attack.

In my pride and arrogance - what I did to her, what I said because I could not bear to seem weak in front of Potter. I have cursed myself for years over the act of cowardice that it was to call her such a horrid thing. Now it is made all the worse in the realization that when a woman that I barely knew did the same, I did not react at all. I was reeling in pain yes, but why did I not react poorly to her? I could think it because I had learned better by then, but that will not help me to sleep any better tonight knowing that I permitted a Death Eater to help me and not my best friend.

Lily was right to not forgive me.

~Thursday 9 December – Late evening Clouds obscure the moon

As everyone was suspecting, they are waiting to hold The Trial until after the holidays. This is meant to make things easier on The Ministry and to lift sprits. I think they did it to sell more papers and to have a topic of distraction to occupy The Wizarding World a bit longer. This I am sure is a blessing. Gossip about Bellatrix and even Barty Crouch will take the focus from the other, far more complicated matters that no one wants to think on... There are of course the businesses in Hogsmeade that are still struggling to recover after all that happened, not to mention the scores of families that have been torn apart... Then there is still the unease that lingers still so tangible in the Wizarding World.

It is a disaster, and Crouch's perverted version of justice only helps fuel the fires of suspicion and terror. He makes it seem as though more than half of the population might still be a threat. How is the Wizarding World to recover? It is almost as if the war hasn't ended.

There is some light now, as some people are finally beginning to see Crouch for the monster he is - or at least they feel safe to admit that now that he has a weakness. Perhaps we need no Ed Murrow after all. Whether the Crouch boy is found guilty or not - The Ministry might just use this as their excuse to oust him in some way.

Strange really. I have no memory of ever having seen the Crouch Boy. I barely even remember him from school, but he was younger than I am so I wouldn't have seen him much. I suppose he could have been a Death Eater, I saw so few of them when I was in their ranks. As to his being with someone as high ranking as Bellatrix, that is difficult to believe, but I suppose anything is possible. I'm worried for him. If he is innocent - his father will never accept it.

As to Bellatrix, Rabastan and Rodolphus, I hope they rot in hell. I hope the Dementors to do them what they did The Longbottoms - and to all the Muggles, Witches, Wizards, Squibs, and even that poor stray dog... I hate them. For once I am not afraid that The Ministry will be persuaded to let them off. Not Even Luscious Malfoy has that kind of power. Christmas will come and go, then they will be sent away to Azkaban for all eternity.

Great. Now there will be another awful awkward truth hanging in the air at the Malfoy party. Let us see, they will want to know why have I been so close to Dumbledore these past months and why I have not bothered to meet with any of them. Avery will want a word I am certain that will be painful. He will want to know why I ignored him after we left school, among other things. Mulciber - he sold out Mulciber what do I say to that!? My worst fear is what I will do when he asks me about Evan... or Wilkes. What if I have to meet Avery's father - Evan was almost as afraid of him as he was his own fucking father. Evan's father - his whole family, what will I say to them after I sold out there son? Philipe Rosier will flay me alive - And then of course all anyone will talk about after that is Bellatrix and Rodolphus! Fuck.

I'm going running for a long time. I don't care how late it is. No creature will stalk me in the woods tonight - for I am far more of a fury than any of them could ever be. They will not dare cross my path.

~Sunday 13 December – Night

Why am I writing now... I don't know where or why to start.

I won't sleep, tired as I am, having not slept since, Thursday night I suppose - no not tonight. I will not sleep. What if, it happens while I am sleeping? True I am not there - I should be, shouldn't I? It won't happen tonight, they said so. I was certain of it a few hours ago - that it would be months as they said it would, still I can't shake it. I couldn't wait to leave since the moment I had arrived, and now I want nothing more than to go back.

He called me to his office early on Friday afternoon. Numb. I was numb. I wasn't even afraid, as I always am when I am summoned.

"Sir."

"Severus, please sit down." He stood up the moment he saw me. There was something in his voice. Still, I had no idea at all what he... so I sat down in front of his desk. He still stood. He paused, looked at me, and then he said, "Severus, there's been an Owl from The Ministry for you..."

Was I supposed to speak? He looked at me a moment, and I think that is when I first began to understand things.

He finally finished considering me and then he spoke, "I think it's best if I were to read it to you."

I nodded. I suddenly felt like a child.

"Severus Snape, We regret to inform you that early this morning your father, Tobias Snape was killed in an accident at the factory where he worked. Your mother was immediately moved from the Muggle hospital where she has resided these past months and taken to Saint Mungo's for her safety. This was done in accordance with bylaw 147, which states that if a Witch or Wizard has previously been in the care of a Muggle relative who can no longer care for them, that Witch or Wizard will become a ward of The Ministry of Magic" He paused and looked up at me.

I felt nothing not at first. My - father - is dead? That wasn't registering. How could he be dead? He was such a powerful - dead? Accident. I - but - what? My Mother? My mother - what!? What happened to my mother!?

He was still glaring down at me over his half-moon spectacles. "Did you even know that your mother was in a hospital?"

I was still staring, still shell shocked and too afraid even to tremble at the thought. I weakly shook my head to say no. Was - was he accusing me? He was. After what I had just been told - he was accusing me of neglecting her!? No - "What - what happened to my mother?" I was too near to tears to speak any further.

"Your mother, the letter goes on to say, has been suffering from an incurable Muggle illness." He was watching me. I was still staring horrified into space. "She is dying Severus."

Throwing buckets of ice on me didn't even begin to describe... And he just said it. He just said it so flat as if he were reading from a list of dates in a history book.

"You didn't know about this?" He asked again.

I wanted to draw my knees up to my chest and rock myself furiously as I had done so often in the corner of my bedroom as a child. Do it, I remember thinking, just do it - it doesn't matter - nothing matters anymore.

I stopped short - only wrapping my arms around myself tightly and freezing to the chair - as if my stillness would stop the sound. Stop talking - I won't even breathe just stop and leave me alone.

He wouldn't stop looking at me. "Would you have even visited her if you had known?"

I was going to scream.

"Severus, I am truly sorry for you. This must be very difficult for you. I will go with you to Saint Mungo's straight away if you wish it." He was looking at me, was he waiting for an answer?

No. No I wouldn't have. Just a few seconds earlier I would have killed him for the accusation... No. Why would I? Seeing me would only have upset her more. It would have upset me to see her in such a way and I knew I would bring her no comfort. She loved him. She loved me, I knew that but - "Sir, does she know about my father? Does she understand?"

"The letter explains that your Mother has been beyond reach for a very long time. It is likely she does not understand, or has even been told about your father." He stopped talking. He stopped talking because I had started crying.

That was what he had wanted wasn't it? I was trying too hard to be strong and show no weakness to him... I wanted to seem unaffected by the students or anything that had happened and he... It is so much easier to just be mad at him. He brought me water and a handkerchief as I sobbed. "Calm yourself, and we will go to see your mother," he was saying.

I know he walked with his arm around me through the corridors. I know no one saw us save for the portraits and the ghosts. I know that we Disapparated through Side-Along Apparition. I recall the waiting room or Saint Mungo's and that Dumbledore was with me all that time. As much as I hate him - when he left me at the door to my mother's room, I didn't want him to leave. I didn't want to be alone with her.

The Closed Ward. It is a Cancer, but she is in the Closed Ward because her mind is gone. Why was I going into the room? Why was I walking across the floor? The woman lying in the bed with long, lank black hair - was that really my mother?

It was awful. I felt sick to my stomach just to look at her. It was her but my mother - she wasn't that old. She seemed to have aged fifteen years since last I had seen her. Her black hair was streaked with gray... In the past, her skin was almost as sallow as mine - but now her skin seemed positively gray. She had grown so thin - she was barely a wisp of a woman. There was almost nothing left of her, as if her body had wasted away with her mind.

"Mum?" I heard myself say it, though I had not even thought to speak. "Mum?" I said again, I was child calling out for her but she wouldn't answer.

There was a Healer with me. I hadn't noticed until I heard the scrape of wood upon the floor. I felt her hands upon my shoulders as she helped me onto the chair that she had just brought over to the side of my mother's bed. The Healer had said something to me, but what she said I barely remember... but I do remember when she finally spoke.

She was still sleeping, but I finally raised my nerve to take her hand. "Mum, I'm here..." I told her.

She seemed almost to wake up, though her eyes did not fully open. "Tobias?"

My heart sank. I fought with all of the strength that I had not to cry, but the lump in my throat was too much. My voice cracked as I told her, "No Mum, its me, its Severus."

"Tobias..." she seemed to squeeze my hand. "Where is Tobias? When will he come home?"

"Soon Mum. He'll be home soon." What else was there to say?

I sat with her until the hour grew late. Every now and then she would wake, and call me by my father's name. "No Mum, it's me. I'm your son, I'm Severus. He's not home yet."

Finally around midnight Dumbledore entered the room. Had he been there all those hours? "Severus, I will be going back to the school now. I know we have our agreement about your being off school grounds without a chaperone, but under the circumstances..." he trailed off. "Stay with your mother for the weekend. I will come back to collect you Sunday evening. The Healers will look after you both. If you need anything at all, send me an Owl and I will come right back for you."

"Yes." It wasn't much of an answer. But it was all I could manage. Then he left me.

I sat up all night. Daylight was in the sky. Staring numbly though window I watched the sky shift from stark blackness into a veil of deep gray. I must have dozed off for a bit, either that or I had never seen them enter the room. But sometime in the early morning - a sound as loud as cannon fire woke me and sent me into a panic. That sound - the most God awful sound of screaming - I was as terrified as I had on the night when I had thrown myself from the tower - that night when another child's cries reminded me of his! What was happening - why- why now!? An infant was in the room - screaming and crying.

I searched frantically around the room for the source of the sound but the curtains around all of the other beds were drawn and I could see no one.

"Sshhhh!" A woman's voice- she sounded almost angry, "I told you he was too young to be brought here now."

"But she has been asking for him!" a younger man said to her.

"There, there," she said in a much calmer voice for she must have been speaking to the child. "Your Mum is right here now. It's all right Neville, don't cry."

Neville? Neville!? Oh dear God - that is their son! Dear God My mother was in the same hospital room as The Longbottoms! I squeezed her hand. She didn't stir. I looked to her, I was afraid. Every time the boy cried - every time it kept coming back to me. That night - Lily - James - The Boy!

I held on so tightly to my mother's hand - words cannot express how much needed her - how I needed to feel her hand, for it was the only thing rooting me to the Earth. If I let go I would - but I couldn't. It wasn't That night. I was with my mother in Saint Mungo's. Finally after what seemed an eternity he stopped crying, though it had taken me far longer to calm down than it had him.

Time became a confusing blur. I felt so lost in time and space. I had to keep reminding myself of the year, the date and the time. I am here. It is a morning in December. I am with my mother... and the Longbottoms are with us in the room.

I could hear them talking as the morning progressed. I never could not make out what it was that they were saying at the other end of the room - and I didn't want to. Every so often the child would cry. Every time I wanted to run screaming in terror from the room. It's Neville I kept telling myself - it's the Longbottom's boy - but it was her son that I heard. It was her face that I saw in the darkness. I sat there as still as stone - feeling the fear, telling myself this was different. Only it wasn't. This boy, just like Harry was crying out for a mother who would never reach for him again. I was no different - for there I was holding my mother's hand, but...

"Mum?" But she wouldn't wake. Neville cried again. He was crying - both of those children cry for mothers who will never again respond to them and it was all my fault.

My mother finally woke up around eleven in the morning. "Tobias?" she asked of me.

"No Mum, it is I, Severus. I am your son." I kept telling her but she seemed not to hear me at all.

This continued through until late afternoon until finally, "Tobias?" she asked of me.

"Yes," I told her as I squeezed her hand. She seemed to be eased by this and she went back to sleep.

Had I really just done that? Had I just lied and claimed to be the person that I hate more than almost anyone - hated - right, I must refer to him now in the past tense he's dead. But I had I pretended to be him. I wanted to feel sick - but I didn't. I changed my name because I was so discussed by what little of him lives in me. But I changed my named to her name, and I suppose I wasn't sickened by the act because I knew I had done the right thing, for I had done it for her.

And that was it. She would wake up, she would ask for him, or she'd ask when he was coming home - and I would lie, either saying "Soon," or "Yes it's me," depending on the question. Just a few words. Two little lies. It was enough for her. She slept, and she didn't seem to be in pain. That is the only good thing... The Healers had said that she isn't in any pain at the moment.

They told me that they can give her potions to ease her pain, and that when the time comes, they will make that easier for her as well. They don't know how much longer she will have. They think it will be two months, four at most.

Potions will ease her pain, but nothing can heal her - nothing can bring her mind back. My mother is dying and I can do no magic nor create any potion to help her. I feel so useless - I am nothing more than a helpless child. The only thing that I can do is sit by her side and watch her slip away. That was all I did for the entire weekend.

Darkness came, so I knew that Saturday had ended. Daylight came back, so I knew that today had started. Dumbledore came for me when Darkness fell again. He brought me back here to Hogwarts, telling me I was free to see her at any time if I wished. I will go to see her every weekend, and some days after classes have ended...

O'Malley will be teaching my classes tomorrow. They've given me leave to attend the funeral. I asked that they not inform the students as to why...

I don't know what else to write.