XXII
Time slips away like silk on glass. Important things lay forgotten. They blow away with the wind, circle the world, but they will always come back. There is nothing you can do to avoid this, because you will always remember. As time passes you will forget only to remember when your life is at its greatest, just so it can break you down once more.
The memories loomed over Severus' head; they were a grey cloud which never left. They soon poured into him, raining in large, terrible droplets. He sat on a couch in a private room, looking up at the ceiling with a blank expression on his face. Something flickered in his eyes before he stood up and went on to slam every door shut as he walked through the castle.
Eventually, he gained his composure. He couldn't be a spy with angry outbursts. It was these hormonal disadvantages which hindered him greatly—his Achilles' heel. He entered the bedroom, silently shutting the door behind him in order to keep his housemates asleep.
He shuffled through his trunk quickly. He took out a long, Slytherin green scarf and a thick, grey coat. He buttoned up the coat with his nimble fingers and quickly tied the scarf around his neck.
Carefully, he traveled through the castle and made himself aware to no one. In his mind he only had one goal. He couldn't immerse himself in romance or form new friendships. Life was far too complicated for that. A messenger is what he was—the Hermes of the wizarding world, only less heard of, and more secretive. He served a single man who played as the savior of the wizarding world. What an honorable task he had: Spying, lying, serving and messaging—what a life to live!
Grumpily, Severus pushed through gossiping girls. He had escaped Hogwarts once more, but this time in the middle of the day. He had yet to get caught for his various endeavors. The day was slightly warmer than most; winter had already seemed to be fleeting during the end of January. The sun shone through the sporadically placed clouds in the periwinkle colored sky. He stepped through the grey slush. The edges of his pants were soaked.
He had forgotten his coat that morning. The freezing air had numbed his skin and dotted it red. The only things keeping him warm were his thick, burgundy scarf that Lily had knitted for him on his birthday and a pair of pale grey gloves. He knew where he had to go; he just did not know how long he could last in the cold weather.
A car nearly ran him over as he walked through the busy streets of London. Businessmen in haughty suits chuckled loudly at each other's very terrible, clichéd puns. He frowned, unbelievably annoyed by the populous city of London and its eclectic passer-byers. If only he had chosen to go there in the middle of the night…
A bell rang as he opened the door of the Leaky Cauldron. The bar was filled with only a few people sitting silently at their own tables, not yet drunk. He sat in the farthest corner, just as he had usually done. There was no bar tender behind the counter. He tapped his fingers impatiently, hoping that the sensation stirring in his gut was right. There was no one there that he recognized. Uncharacteristically, he dozed off…just for a second…just for a second he had promised himself.
The long, black table that had previously been in the meeting hall was now gone. What was left was the Dark Lord and three of his followers. A few lanterns lit the room diffusely.
"I am sure that none of you have heard of the town called Shillings," said the Dark Lord. "However, that village is full of things—things that dare steal our magic. They must be punished. They pilfer this world. Their kind must be eradicated. This is a simple mission for you to organize."
Severus had heard of the town of course, and he had even visited it several times. The town was full of bookstores. It was the place where he found many rare literary treasures. He was not surprised at the choice. He knew many muggle-borns lived in that small village. He had not expected to be chosen for a mission after the first meeting.
Already, he had made an impression. He found himself kneeling in between Lucius Malfoy and Odysseus Rosier. "I am sure that you three will be able to handle it." The Dark Lord turned to him. "I am aware of the fact that you are rather...inexperienced, but I wish to access your abilities Severus. I have heard many promising things about you. Avery has told me much of your skills"
"Thank you, my Lord. I will not disappoint." He bowed his head down.
"I will arrange the date in due time. Until then, I wish for you three to prepare. I do not want to be disappointed."
"Yes my Lord," Malfoy answered.
"You are dismissed." Malfoy and Rosier led. When Severus turned to walk away the Dark Lord called. "Actually Severus, I wish to have a word with you."
"What is troubling you my Lord?" He asked as he kneeled back down on to the floor next to his feet. He looked up at his master for the first time since he had entered the house. He sat in a baroque thrown-like chair. His snake, Nagini, was wrapped around the chair's left leg.
"I have heard that you are aptly skilled in potions. Is that correct?"
"I would not call it skill," he said belittlingly.
"There is no room for modesty young Severus. No matter. I wish for you to create a potion for me."
"A potion my Lord?"
"Yes—a potion that is able to inflict torturous pain upon the drinker of it. It must be pain more terrible than the Cruciatus Curse. Furthermore, it must have no cure. A bezoar must be useless when the potion is taken. Do you think you are able to create such a potion Severus?"
"I shall try."
"No, Severus, you will do." He nodded. "Very good Severus. You too are now dismissed." He bowed deeply before walking away. No speed would have been fast enough to get him out of that retched room.
He woke up, falling out of his stool. No one had noticed. The three men that were sitting separately in the bar, now sat together, roaring with raucous laughter. He collected himself, and then sat down on his wooden, unpadded stool once more. The recollection of what had happened was startling.
The doorbell sounded once more as a bearded man walked in. The man had auburn hair and sea green eyes, which greatly resembled the waves of the Baltic Sea. The man looked tired, yet there were no shadows underneath his eyes, and he held a semi-lively smile. The man was a little over middle-aged. He held a red walking cane, phoenixes detailed across its length. He sat down next to Severus.
"Using glamours now, are you Albus?" The man's eyes darted toward Severus. "I never thought I would see you stoop so low. Then again, the best of us must fall."
"You could always see through me, couldn't you?"
Madame Rosmerta, the voluptuous barmaid walked in, her curly, flaxen hair bouncing in every which way as she walked over to them, a seductive smile meant for trickery upon her lips. Her eyes twinkled in the bar's light. "How may I help you gentlemen? I apologize for the wait."
Before Dumbledore could speak Severus said, "We need a private room. Could you arrange that for us?" He placed several galleons on the table.
"Yes, of course." She motioned for them to follow her up flights of stacked, creaking stair cases, all varying in shades of various woods. She turned left on the last floor of the building. Reaching the end of a hallway, she opened the door. It was a small room, with a single table and two chairs next to it. "You have an hour," she said as she left a bottle of fire whiskey and two shot glasses on the table before leaving quickly.
The room, despite its smallness, was lavishly decorated. The walls were painted a peach color, and the plush carpeting was indigo with cream colored fleur-de-lis on its border. The windows were curtained fortunately. Unique trinkets filled the few shelves on the walls.
Severus shut the door when the disguised Dumbledore entered the room. He cast not only the Muffliato charm, but the silencing charm on the room as well. "Shall we?" Dumbledore questioned.
Severus sat down at the table first and poured fire whiskey into both shot glasses. "You do realize that the school cannot go on much longer without you?"
"I have yet to hear of any misfortunate mishaps that have occurred during my leave."
"The students are being attacked by future Death Eaters no less. It's like a zoo. They can only call it "harmless pranking" for so long Albus. The students are being hospitalized for Merlin's sake! Madame Pomfrey doesn't have enough room in the infirmary for the entire school. She's had me running about and brewing potions for her ever since your leave." He looked up at Albus, loathing and annoyance in his eyes, "I cannot believe that you would have not heard of this.
"You must return to the castle. Minerva can't protect the children during this time. What if they come? This hadn't happened last time. The Slytherins…all they speak of is…is of him! He has plans—plans that I am unaware of. He could strike anywhere at any time and I won't be able to warn you. Even if I did have the information, I would have to search for you and find the end of the world, in order to find you! This is foolish what you are doing, Albus."
"I am speaking the truth Severus. Minerva hasn't informed me of any of this."
"She's scared that she will lose her position as Deputy Headmistress, if she were to tell you. However, she did have everything under control for a time. But with the students releasing Hagrid's ah…pets…she's been a bit overwhelmed as of late."
"I can imagine."
"You must come back to the school soon. If you do not come, the castle's foundation will surely collapse."
"I have a few things left to do before I come back."
Irately, he withdrew a small cube from his pocket and it turned into a thick newspaper, before he slammed it with great force onto the table right in front of the Headmaster. The inks on the page's brims were blurred. The newspaper unfolded before them, the picture of a bloodied family, all lying still on a blood stained carpet, was on the front. Unlike most wizarding photos, this picture was still, lacking every essence of life. "More dead; it never ends. This is what happens when you step out of your office. Every time, another falls to the hands of death Albus. These are not the students, but they are still human beings! People are being killed by a maniac. You cannot just stand by and watch this. The Dumbledore I knew used to take action. But here you are, sitting, drinking away and letting your spy do all the work! What has become of you?" He spat venomously, his voice full of a dark presence.
"You are only saying these things to assure yourself. A fool is what you are. Gryffindors—the whole lot of them only see what they want to see, hear what they want to here. Their chain of foolish nonsense is endless. Look me in the eyes, Albus, and tell me—tell me if this is how people are meant to die, at the hands of a murderer, writhing in pain, helpless and hoping that it end sooner!" No reply came. "It's only natural I suppose," he sneered sardonically.
Dumbledore remained silent, but his eyes, terribly hidden by his half-moon spectacles could never hide emotion. There inside them was the melancholy sense of regret, verging pain at their horizons. "You know what you must do, as I know what I must do. Do not fool yourself Albus."
"I don't…" Albus began, at a loss for words. For once he spoke with his heart, and not his mind. For once, he hadn't used the prewritten quotable things he had stored in his mind. Oh no, he was not it a good position. He knew he had to reply. Somehow, someway, fumbling through the sentences, he spoke. "I shouldn't be here—hiding. It—I should go back. You are right Severus. You—there is no denying it—are once more, correct."
Severus looked at the headmaster's old hand, the one he had grown used to seeing in a black, withered state. For a moment, he touched the fingers, but then pulled back. "No, I am not always right. I am only aware of my mistakes."
Severus drank a shot of the whiskey quickly and then poured himself another. As he drank he felt the burning liquid slide down his throat before numbing it, and then soothing it somehow with its fiery flare. He, like his father, had an extremely soft spot for whiskey. He resented himself for letting himself stoop to his father's methods of dulling painful and troubling memories. But sometimes he couldn't help, but take a swig of alcohol to numb the nerves.
"Aren't you a bit young for drinking Severus?"
"I am thirty nine years old; I have lived this…" he looked at the ground woefully, "life with every ounce of composure I could muster, I and will continue to do so. But denying a man a drink is something that I shall not have happen to me. I am not far too young, and I am imprisoned by my own wrong doings. I believe that the contents of this bottle is just the thing I need right now. But I sincerely thank you for your concern," he scoffed. In his head he was scolding himself for letting himself succumb to the liquid's vile allure. He was not his father. He hated himself for inheriting his father's love for alcohol. "Spare me of your morals Albus, just this once."
Albus released the glamour charm. His old blue eyes had begun to lose the twinkle which graced them ever so greatly before. He drank a shot. "What of your meeting with Voldemort?"
Albus lit the fireplace, and suddenly there was a burst of warm air in the cold room. He removed his glamour, and then faced Severus once more. His bright blue eyes and Severus' dark black met, neither of them blinking for a second.
"I have troubling news of course. I am never a bearer of good news. I should warn you of that now." He looked up at Albus, who seemed fully prepared for whatever Severus had to say. "They are planning an attack on a town full of muggle-borns—Shillings is the name. Three of us are planning it, and that includes Lucius Malfoy, Odysseus Rosier and I."
"He has already learned to trust you after the first meeting Severus?"
"Yes, I believe he has found something of worth in me," he said grimly. "The attack will be sometime next month. You will have to let the information slip to the aurors somehow. I am sure Moody could come up with some ingenious plan with great ease.
"However, as there are many who will be on the mission, I suggest that the aurors remain undetectable. Though it is usually unlike them to do anything on the sly, I highly suggest that they try it this time. It will accost for any mistakes.
"Furthermore, I need your permission to go out on this…massacre. I could get caught. Often times our masks slip of in the heat of battle." Severus stopped talking to look at Dumbledore who was satisfied with Severus' mindset.
"Continue Severus, I believe you have this all planned out."
"I will need to Polyjuice as a muggle, possibly one who is more likely to die in the midst of things. I will have extra Polyjuice Potion just in case. I will not kill anyone, but I will do my best to severely hurt them, before saving them of course."
"Your plan will work Severus. I believe that if you trust yourself things will work out the way you want them to."
A silence began to eat away at them. Severus wracked his brain, believing that he had forgotten something. The Headmaster stood to leave. "Wait. I—I have one more thing to tell you.
"The Dark Lord wishes for me to create a potion for him. I—I cannot do such a thing Albus."
"Isn't it part of your job to do such a thing Severus?"
"He wishes for me to create a potion which can inflict such immense pain upon the drinker that it will cause them to write in pain much greater than that of the Cruciatus Curse. He wishes for it to be incurable. I am afraid that I can create no such potion."
"And what will happen if you don't?"
"The Dark Lord will be disappointed."
"Then create it. It will prove miraculously difficult. However, when there comes a time where I will have to save you from imprisonment, I will vouch for you Severus. And I will continue to do so until the very end. You are doing this for something greater than most of us are aware of."
The headmaster put his hand to the door knob. "While I was at the meeting I experienced an odd reaction. I felt as if I had come off my mental and physical hinges. I could not stop pulsating. I barely made it through the meeting without breaking into a seizure."
"Sometimes when we do things that we know are wrong, we have odd reactions. Those of us, who have done terrible things and have realized that they were indeed terrible, feel the strongest reactions. It is only because your heart and mind know of the darkness, which is lingering so nearby you that your body is compelled to have such a reaction."
"Thank you," Severus said. It was the third time he had ever thanked anyone in his life. The first time was while having a meal in Lily's house on a day that he was peculiarly starving and the second was while he was in Limbo. Or at least, that was what he could remember.
Dumbledore left with a small 'pop'.
Severus stood at the wall of the west end of the castle. He needed to be alone. He felt hindered by his predispositions. He wanted to have a clear cut answer of what was right and what was wrong. He only knew of the things he had done in the past and feared to do things in any other way.
Outside he stood, teeth chattering wildly as the sleet covered him. He rubbed his arms repetitively. When a grim thought would pass through his mind he would kick the snow. The meeting with Dumbledore did him no good. He knew he had a ways to go, but he thought of himself at a standstill.
A pair of warm arms wrapped themselves around him. He flinched. "Sev, what are you doing out here? You're going to catch your death in the cold! Where's your coat? You don't need to keep neglecting yourself like this."
"I need to be alone. I need to think. I can't go inside right now. I'm sorry."
Lily wasn't an idiot. Before she would let him argue, she dragged him inside of the castle. If she had to, she would have pulled him by the ear. Fortunately, he was too cold and too weakened by it to respond to her forcefulness.
Inside, he held a cup of hot chocolate in his hands, his mittens still on them. He gained coherence as the warmth of the room and drink filled him.
The room they were in was painted a bright, cheerful shade of dandelion yellow. The walls were detailed with a leafy pattern painted in spring green paint. He sat next to Lily on a brown carpet floor. His back was held up by the frame of an enormous bed, which was not nearly as cheerful as the rest of the room. There was a sickening bunch of trinkets upon a dresser next to the bed. Most of them were of fairies and other magical creatures, some of them very fictional, even to the magical world.
"Where are we?" he asked slightly repulsed by its sunny disposition.
"We're in my room." She snuggled closer to him, feeling clingy that day. "How are you feeling?"
"Better."
"You should take better care of yourself," she began to kiss his neck. "You deserve it, you know."
Suddenly, Lily kissed Severus roughly, climbed on top of him, her hand on his chest and her legs spread over his lap. Severus kissed back with more passion. Both their bodies felt ignited by a pleasant fire. They could not resist the burning feeling that welled up inside of them. Soon they ended up on the floor, moving left and right.
"You should take better care of yourself," she began to kiss his neck. "You deserve it, you know."
He turned around swiftly, and captured her lips. Both fought for dominance, but Severus had won it in the end. They were a tangled web of love. She broke away from him momentarily. "I worry about you."
"As I do about you," he replied lovingly.
"You should worry about yourself."
If only I could Lily…If only I could. This time, she kissed him. Their bodies were close to each other, but searched for more closeness. Lily had her hands entangled in Severus' hair, and Severus' hand was toying with the hem of Lily's shirt. Lily kissed him harder, wanting more of him. Severus nibbled on her lip slightly. Lily more than eagerly allowed him entrance. He tasted of rum and chocolate—it was simply fantastic to her.
Lily needed more of him. More. More. More. No matter how close she was to him, it did not feel close enough. She closed the small gap between them. A low noise escaped from the back of her throat as he invigorated her with his loving kisses. She unbuttoned his shirt, button after agonizing button. Severus stopped her, his hands pushing hers away from him.
"Lily we can't do this."
"I'm not like that Sev…I just thought that maybe…Never mind." She looked away for a moment, blushing. "I've seen you without your shirt off dozens of times."
"Yes, but we were younger then."
After a brief moment of awkward silence, Severus kissed her, feeling slightly guilty because he had denied her. Lily unbuttoned the rest and the shirt slipped off of him. Her eyes feasted upon him, his chest and abdomen were slightly muscled. He was not as wiry as he appeared. He was thin, but not overly. It was his height that made him look thin, when in truth he was perfect the way he was. Every now and again there would be a scar on his alabaster skin, but to Lily they weren't hideous—they were another part of Severus that made him who he was.
"You'll get warmer this way," she uttered.
For the longest time, they did nothing, but hold each other as if it would be the last time they would ever get the chance to. They clung to each other, not only out of love, but because without one another, there would be a vast emptiness inhibiting their hearts, their souls.
How can I ever let you go?
They lied on the carpet, Lily's head resting on Severus's chest. "I love you," she whispered. She had finally said at, and it felt wonderful; almost as wonderful as Severus had felt when he had heard those three words finally being uttered to him. It was faster than she had ever admitting to loving a boy. She fell so fast for him. The euphoric greatness of the feeling was too much for her to hold in any longer, and so she let the words slip out. She didn't expect a reply from him.
"I love you too, Lily. Always." He kissed her head.
I can't let go of her. Not now. Why does she do this every time?
The final blow hit him hard, like a hammer breaking through ice. "I don't care who you are Severus. I don't care what you become. You are who you truly are when you're with me. You are a wonderful person. I love you because of it. Don't doubt it for a moment."
If only you knew Lily…
I hide from you.
I lie because of you.
And yet you still love me.
I've betrayed you.
And I still can't help myself.
Dear God, woman, I love you.
She was his light, his savior, the only things which kept him from the darkness which always lingered nearby. He had never let her go. She had always been there, in his heart, constantly reminding him of how he had yet to just let it…slip away. He couldn't let her go. But he needed to. At the same time he needed her. But most importantly, he could never have her if she wasn't safe. At that time, where darkness had begun to consume the wizarding world, and when light was ever-fleeting, Lily wasn't safe in his arms.
But one day she would be. He promised himself that, if nothing more.
Blood and lies,
Betrayal and regrets,
Haunting and corrupting him,
They swirl in his mind,
And they heave in his heart,
How he wishes that he could only stop,
The stains on his fingers,
The aura around him,
Tinged by the dark,
Where is the light,
Oh how it should shine,
Just yesterday it was there,
Disappearing are his morals,
His opinions forever melting,
All for one reason,
The mighty have fallen,
The weak now weaker,
But the strong now with them,
He stalks among them,
Taking whatever he can,
The poor man crying in regret,
Shaking his chains,
Decaying in his cell,
He is his own prisoner,
Love and hate,
Both bottled up in the man,
Oh how he is now lost,
His heart screams with love,
But his mind yells in lies,
He lives in contradictions,
Loving for a woman,
Lying for a woman,
He knows no other.
A/N: Reviews? Favorites? Follows? You're all amazing! This chapter is for Saint Snape.
I do not have a beta. Furthermore, those of you who complain of my grammatical and spelling errors: Tell me, can you write this? Could you possibly, ever in your life write the same words as I? You are here to read. I do not ask you to point out my mistakes. For God's sake! I'm not writing so I can look over every error. I am a Beta for that reason. Go look over your own mistakes, before criticizing mine. Odds are you have errors too. Thank you to the haters for teaching me to stand up for myself.
To everyone else: I love your reviews! Thank you so much for your kind words. They make my day every time.
Tell me how I did? I went back to change the errors so people can stop hating on me for being human and making humanly errors.
-E.S. Grey