XXVII

A snake was wrapped around a skull. It was poison to the eyes. Severus felt his eyes burn with revile. He first felt sick, then disappointed. Ultimately, he was lost: He had failed. The Dark Mark was forever etched onto Regulus' skin. Severus' knees buckled: He fell to his knees, the word "why" repeating in his head over and over.

What made it even worse was that Regulus was crying, but no more tears could come from his eyes, for he had exhausted his supply long ago. "You were right all along Severus. How couldn't I have seen it? I was so blind. I don't want this. I can't do this anymore. I should have seen that you were trying to do something other than join them for power."

"It's too late Reg, it's too late," said Severus, his voice broken and his Occlumency shield completely defenseless.

The two men were shattered statues who once stood greatly.

Regulus lied on the floor, completely lost and unwilling to live a moment longer. Not only was he disgusted by his vile master, he was disgusted by himself. Regulus' eyes were rimmed in red, his face reddened with each whimper and his arms and legs lay limply on the ground. His vigor was gone, his true life was only a memory, yet his morals were the strongest they had ever been in his life. His hair was greased, and the bones in his cheeks were pulled against his stretching, now sallow skin of his once attractive face. You could tell that he had isolated himself in the room for days upon days, mourning and unwilling to live life anymore. He was a hollow, grub infested, rotting log. He was aware of the mistake that he had made, and it made the feelings within him so much worse.

"I should have listened to Sirius and you. I don't want power. I don't need it. Please, help me, Severus."

He knew he could not help Regulus, and so he stayed silent, wondering if there was a one in a million chance to get him out of it, though he knew there was no such thing. Part of him wanted to admit that it was his doing that did this; that his lies were at fault and it was his follies which caused Regulus to spiral out of control. Yet there was his own unorthodox morals which told him to stay quiet, for words could not do anything in this situation. Words bring you so far, but the actions you do after you say them show what you truly meant by them. But he could take no action, so he said no words.

They were in a private room in the Hufflepuff hallway. It was painted the dreadfully cheerful color of peaches sitting in heated cream. There was a few lounge chairs in the room, but no other upholstery. The room was diffusely lit by lamps which barely had any light in them. Small fairies flied in the semi-translucent ceiling above head.

Sirius walked in to the room to see his brother and Severus bleeding their hearts out as if they were emotionally strong Gryffindors. He seemed to have aged a decade in a single day. His eyes were sunken, his lips were thick and red, but most of all his eyes were lifeless spheres, which were unwelcome to the world around him. "Regulus," he croaked. "I tried. I tried so hard. I'm sorry." He went over to his brother, and pulled his heavy, limp body off the ground into a half sitting position. "Regulus, please, don't give up on life just yet."

"Kill me; kill me now. I'll give you the sword. I'll write a note to the Ministry. Whatever it takes!—I can no longer do this."

"Snape, you've got to have something up that sleeve of yours. What's in that scheming head? Please tell me that you've got a plan."

"There's one, but it is…far too risky, and the possibility that Regulus could ever agree to such an absurdity is slim."

"I'll do whatever it takes Severus, please; I can't do this anymore." Severus helped Regulus up prudently. "I can't walk." The receiving of the dark mark had taken away the resilient qualities he once held. Voldemort's views were twisted: In order to feel pleasure, you must suffer first. Sacrifices are made for the greatest things of all.

Yet the dark mark was not a great thing. It was a heinous scar; one which most wizards hide, because eventually, they become ashamed of it, though they seem to wear it with the utmost of pride. It was a lie, their pride.

"Tell me, Snape, where are you taking him?" Sirius stood with his arms crossed defiantly. After what had happened, he wasn't sure if he could trust Snape, until the defining things to come.

"To Dumbledore—there is no other way that he can be saved." Regulus jumped out of Severus' arms. "Regulus!"

"Are you mad? What in Merlin's all mighty name has gotten in to you? I'll be sent to Azkaban; I'll be kissed." Regulus was trembling, his voice was however booming with indignation.

"Dumbledore had saved me once," was all Severus said; it was all Severus would let himself say, and that was already more than he had ever wanted to tell a person. "If you want to live, come with me—and I do not mean if you want to live a half-life. If you want to live a full life, with a second chance, come with me."

Severus walked away from them, not caring to look back. At first he heard nothing, but he smirked when he heard loud, clumsy footsteps behind him. If only they had enough time and if only Dumbledore was there…he was sure that everything would work out.

I won't let Regulus go down this path… It's not too late. This time there is no reason to keep things the same way that they are. He will survive. I just need a time turner. Then, I could stop Regulus from attending the meeting.

When the gargoyle greeted them, it was not all too pleasant. Its stony eyes stared at them; it did not budge a single half millimeter. The password had changed. For a moment, Severus thought that he would have to wait all night long to reach Dumbledore; he would wait even longer if he had to. To their joy, the gargoyle began to move, and out came a Dumbledore dressed in a mauve night gown with his large night cap trailing down his back. "What are you doing here boys this late at night?"

When their answers came out as a muffled cry (mostly from Regulus), he had them follow him to a room more private than his office. He could tell by the sheer look in Regulus' nearly sealed, horribly pained eyes that something had gone terribly wrong.

The room's floor seemed to be curved. It was marzipan in color. The room's walls resembled a grassy field on a wet day. Bookshelves held some of the rarest novels and informational texts known to date. There were twelve arm chairs in the room, all of which were rimmed by real gold. One could only begin to wonder what this room was used for.

The clocked ticked away, covering the meandering noiselessness between the men. Dumbledore paced up and down the room, trying to figure out what could possibly have happened between the three. He could smell the blood on Regulus. It couldn't be good, he told himself—otherwise Severus wouldn't be here.

"Albus," Severus began; Regulus and Sirius both looked at him with utter bewilderment. "We have encountered a misfortune."

Dumbledore sighed heavily as he fell to a chair. Fawkes was singing a sad lament; even the phoenix had known that it was a tragic day. "Show him, Regulus."

Painful tears dropped unnaturally down his cheeks. For a moment, there seemed to be a red tinge to his blood; it was almost as if the wounds of his inner soul were cut so deep that he was forced to excrete blood through his tear ducts. "I can't Severus."

Severus leaned over to him, and slowly, prudently, rolled up Regulus' sleeve and undid the thick bandage covering his arm. Dumbledore's eyes began to water as he saw the boy's skin debauched by a repugnant tattoo-like mark. "No, Severus, there is nothing I can do," he said gravely. His eyes had no lustrous shine, nor the lively spirit that once resided in them so cheerfully, and hopefully. Albus Dumbledore was no longer the man the Severus once knew. Severus gained an understanding that day—understanding that the man he dutifully served for nearly two decades was someone completely different. The man's heart was trapped in a cage of darkness, not much unlike his own. They both used the light to cover up their flaws, but always failed to truly mask their mistakes. They were not a different type of man, those two. That day Severus had a revelation so enormous, that Albus Dumbledore had entered a spot in his seemingly small heart.

"He cannot do what you are doing, Severus. I apologize." Severus moved over to Dumbledore, tears just begging to form in his eyes, and hid safely behind the chair. Dumbledore raised his wand, and with on flick, both Regulus and Sirius' memories of the last hour were gone.

"I know he meant much to you, Severus. He's in a different place now." There is more to life and death. There is an in between stage. You are neither living, nor dead. Most think that they live a half-life, but it is until the moment where you do a deed so irreversible and catastrophic that you will not live a half-life.

"All I needed was a time turner—I would have turned it a hundred times if I needed to. And this is what you do? What has happened to you, you blasted codger! If someone can be saved, then save them!"

"Do you not see that even if you save him, he will later become what he is now? It is inevitable."

I'll save you, one day, Regulus. Some way, somehow I will…

He was sure that he would help Regulus do as much good as he could possibly do. It was now Severus' moral imperative to help his friend live a happy life, despite the depressing darkness which he had let himself into. And he was sure, that if Regulus had wanted to assist him with any good that he would let him, because Regulus had once again earned his trust. He knew his friend well enough to know that he was never evil, only misguided, just as he himself had once been.

Severus felt like he walked a little shorter with each passing day, but it was only his head telling him how he felt. He had never looked so dismal, or dark. The days had passed agonizingly. Dumbledore had not given him any new mission, and his job as a follower of Voldemort had come to a hiatus. He wished that he had someone who he could tell, someone who could just listen to him, if only for a fraction of a second. But there wasn't a single person on this Earth who could listen to him drone on about the difficulties of his life. There is only one thing worse than being heard, and that is going unheard.

Unexpectedly, Severus felt a warm hand brush his hair off of his shoulder—he knew that he had to cut it soon. "Sev, what's troubling you?" How Lily had found where he was hiding, he would never know.

They were in the boat house; old, black boats were piled next to him. The floor was filled with sparsely spread out pieces of flaxen straw. An owl lied in the balcony overhead; it would hoot whenever it heard a disturbance.

"Please, tell me Sev. You're worrying me." She sat next to him, and embraced him fully with her loving hug. She nuzzled her head in the crook of his neck. "You don't go down to the hall to eat. You show up to class at the last minute. I never see you anymore Sev. Is—is it because of me?" She choked out the last sentence, unable to tell herself that she was the reason for his problems.

"No Lily. Don't ever say that." He turned to face her and cupped her cheek with a single hand. She smiled at him.

"I'm here for you Sev, don't forget that." Lily knew Severus to the best extent she could. What she was completely sure about was that talking would get Severus nowhere. He would tell her someday, but someday could mean the day one or the other dies.

He longed for human touch, for the love only Lily could give him. He roughly kissed her. Their tongues mingled beautifully; low noises in the back of their throats would sometimes escape. "Please," she whispered.

He kissed her down her neck; her skin immediately pimpled. "I love you," he said, and she responded with a muffled sound. They never got passed kissing. It was a tacit agreement between the two. They would wait, until they were both completely sure that they were meant to be together.

As the sun began to set, the sky turning deep marmalades and indigos laced with awing taupe edged clouds, they became comforted by each other. Lily's head was on Severus' now slightly broader chest. She listened to his deep voice resonate through his chest cavity as he read to her. It was like a nostalgic lullaby, cooing her to sleep ever so slowly.

"Do you really think it is weakness that yields to temptation? I tell you that there are terrible temptations which it requires strength, strength and courage to yield to." He stopped there, and began to close the book on top of his fingers. Only then, did Severus realize what kind of man he was. He was weak; weak hearted and fragilely souled. But his mind was strong, so strong the he need not the advice of another to figure out what he wanted. Only then, did he realize the psychology of his mind. He came back in this time, because it was a great temptation, which was too improbable to not yield to. Its beckoning call, its sweet allure, its ambiguous possibilities and the inevitabilities of it all, is what he had enjoyed more than anything. His mind was sick, twisted even. He came back, because he had many-faced fates. It was not destiny which dictated his life, but his mind, soul, heart and body which dictated destiny. He was here, in March of 1978, because he would never have been able to live in the land of the dead, knowing that he could have had another chance at it all. It wouldn't make the slightest difference to him if the world were to fall into an apocalypse. He had Lily in his arms and he had her love. Dumbledore had thought that he would come to this world, at this time, because it was an old habit of his. He was here on his own account; what he had done in his previous life was on his own account. He wasn't a puppet; he was his own master, because without him, Dumbledore would be nothing. It was a temptation that he was yielding to. While he could give in so easily to his every want, it was his every want that was his need. That was why temptation was so important to him—that was why beneath all his weakness, he was strong.

Lily was silently snoring on his chest by the time he had come back into the world absent of his thoughts. He scooped her up in his arms and carried her to the castle. It was a great milestone for him, and the best part was that he acknowledged it too.

Things grew between Lily and Severus. As the days drew on, they spent time study for their NEWT's or holding each other quietly. Though Severus felt he was doing this through a thick veil, he tried to show as much of his inner self to Lily as he could. They had fallen into a certain routine where he would wait for her every morning, get Tibby the house elf to serve them breakfast in a private room, and then go onto the rest of the day.

Lily seemed to forget about recent catastrophic events quickly. He was envious of her. How he wished that he would be able to forget everything, but later on, he realized he never truly wanted to forget, not because of what he was doing, but because within those blood stained memories were some of the highlights of his life.

Emma, the small girl who had grown attached to him, had not budged from her mental predisposition of calling him her 'father'. He grew used to the word, but did not grow fond of it. He had never imagined himself as a father. He had been a teacher for seventeen years; he had taken care of enough kids.

The night was in full bloom as Severus walked down the corridor. He opened a door that only he and Dumbledore could enter. He braced himself quickly.

"Daddy!" exclaimed Emma in her usually high-pitched voice. She flung herself onto him with a barreling hug. She placed a slightly sloppy kiss on his cheek, and he returned the favor with a light peck on the forehead. After all, it was all a theatrical act to him.

He carried her to her large, purple bed and placed her in the middle of it. He worked quickly, fluffing her pillows to perfection and tucking her in tightly, in hopes that she wouldn't escape in the middle of the night to find him. The room she slept in was small, but perfect for a child's room. There was a short bookshelf lined with children's books, one of them being The Tales of Beetle the Bard. "Read to me," she requested as she had every night. It was one of the few things that Severus agreed to doing.

He picked up a book, and opened it to a random page. He found himself faced with The Tale of the Three Brothers. Melancholy swooped over him, but something possessed him to read it. As he read to her, he felt closure coming, knowing that it was a different path that he was on this time. Voldemort would not come to seek the Hallows, so help him, he rather would die first.

He closed the novel, feeling a new sense of pride for what he had done in his previous life in hopes of stopping Voldemort. He had died as a false trail, and he knew he had. He was never the owner of the Elder Wand; he soon discovered that after it had refused to do any tantalizing spell work for him.

Emma was fast asleep. The white walls turned grey as he blew out the candles. He put his chair next to the bookshelf. Picking up the toys as he went, he thought of what he had reduced himself to. Though of course, if Lily were to see him doing this she would be eons past delighted with him. He put the toys in her mid-sized toy box and shut it tightly.

Once he stepped out of the room, he was greeted by Tibby the house elf. She looked much happier than when he last saw her. "Master Snape, Dumbledore wishes to see you!" she quipped happily.

When Severus entered the office, his cloak swishing around his feet as he circled the room, trying to find Dumbledore, he saw the Pensieve standing on Dumbledore's oak desk. He stood three for a moment.

Behind him, Dumbledore's voice came, "I have found some memories that may be of use to you, Severus."

Severus didn't know whether to be glad or terrified.

A/N: The 200th reviewer spot and 100th follower spot have already been taken. I heavily doubt that I will get 100 favorites, because my number of favorites only keeps dropping. So be it. Do not get mad at me because of Regulus. I am only seemingly evil. I have a twisted reason of why this had happened. The reason why I had done it will soon come to light.

I am sorry that I did not update yesterday. I am dealing with many, many family issues right now.