A/N # 1 – Mpreg. Angst and unhappiness abounds. Not my characters that I'm abusing.
A/N # 2 – This story took a left turn a while back and Minerva's role developed in a way I wasn't expecting.
A/N # 3 – Thanks to Linz, EP and MM for their help.
This is really part 2 of Chapter 26.
Normally, Albus quite enjoyed the changing of the seasons, especially when the wet, dreary days of the Scottish winters warmed and lengthened into spring. His mood would have further lifted as the summer days approached but for one Nymphadora Tonks Lupin.
Actually, her burgeoning belly.
Her belly was a painful, pregnant reminder that Severus and the child to be were still missing.
It wasn't though he could forget Severus, not even for a moment. When Dumbledore slept, his nonsensical imaginings were full of Severus. What was the significance of Minerva petting a unicorn foal of the most outlandish hues while a hysterical Severus cursed and screamed at him? While normally Albus was rather partial to the color purple, a lavender unicorn was just a Technicolor crime against nature.
The harsh sounds of Severus' frenzied screams haunted Albus during his waking hours.
'You're not getting her until I'm dead'?
And the worst dreams… where Severus endured the unspeakable while a sobbing Albus screamed and pleaded for Severus to believe that it wasn't him, that Albus would never relish inflicting such cruelties on him. Weeping uncontrollably, he'd wake from those nightmares and Fawkes would be there to comfort and console him.
The Severus sightings continued, but not quite as frequently as before, but he no longer requested the increasingly reluctant Order Members to investigate. Instead, an exhausted Albus went to each sighting acknowledging that he needed to get there before the Aurors did, accepting in his mind that it wasn't Severus, but still hoping in his heart that this time, it just might be …. But Severus was never was his Severus.
The green and silver baby blanket had long since been finished, as had the sweaters of assorted hues, the robes, the caps and other wardrobe essentials, and they all had been safely stored away in a large chest. As the days lengthened, Albus was still unable to sleep through the night, so the clothing had been augmented by a literal zoo of knitted animals; a dozen or so snakes, bright emerald green and silver, a goat and a shaggy lion. But the ruler of his knitted menagerie? A rather floppy Phoenix.
While Fawkes had loudly tittered and disparaged his knitted Doppelgänger, claiming that it was at best, a pale, stringy imitation of him, Albus secretly believed that Fawkes quite liked it. He often found the knitted Phoenix had seemingly taken flight from where he had last witnessed it and in places that only a winged companion could have placed it. Perhaps the child would not mind if he gave it to Fawkes?
But after his burst of obsessive knitting brought him no relief and no Severus, Albus regretfully slowed his needles, as there was only so much knitting a man could do before he went astray in the head and there was only so much yarn available in Scotland. Besides knitting, there were also other pressing issues that demanded much of his time, and so regretfully, he focused on them. Hogwarts had OWLs and NEWTS for which to prepare and next year there were sweeping curriculum changes to help prepare the young witches and wizards for the changing world. There was Voldemort, the Ministry… and the unhappy situation involving Eileen Prince….
The staff of the hospice and Madam Poppy Pomfrey both agreed that Severus' mother was deteriorating. There was no doubt in their highly qualified opinions that her condition was irreversible. Her body was too stubborn to realize the truth of the matter so her heart continued to beat and her lungs persisted in breathing. It would be only a matter of time… days… weeks… perhaps a few months at the very most… but it might be a kindness… to assist Eileen on her way.
Objectively, Albus understood why they suggested euthanasia. There was the possibility that some small part of Eileen was in pain, perhaps in intractable agony. Would Eileen have wanted to live… no… survive … like this? To be reduced to a constricted, twisted physical shell lacking all awareness of the world around her?
Somehow, he doubted it.
Would it not be a kindness to release her from her earthly torment?
But yet, Albus feared to face Severus.
For when Severus returned, when he must return, when he had PROMISED to return, how could Albus cavalierly inform Severus that he had made the unilateral decision to dispatch his mother to the afterlife? Some would accept that it was an act of mercy, but Albus did not know Severus' closely held opinion on this delicate matter. In all the years he had known Severus, Snape had rarely mentioned his mother. Respecting Severus' silence on the matter, believing the matter was too painful for him to feel comfortable discussing, Albus had never pressed the issue. Now, now… Albus damned himself for not conversing about the matter with the taciturn Severus.
Therefore, having no clear input on what Severus would prefer, Albus refused their suggestions, and then, when the matter was again mentioned to him, he not-so-gently reminded the hospice of a simple truth. Eileen's bills were paid for the next few years if they were fearful of not being paid? That comment offended them as they prided themselves on their care, and so they left him alone for a few weeks.
Truly, Albus should never have that made that comment. Part of the role of hospice was helping grieving family members accept that death was the natural finish to life well-lived. Perhaps that was key to the difficulties he was facing. For Eileen's life had not been particularly well-lived. No, it had been a painful succession of verbal abuse, broken bones, contusions and lacerations. First, her parents and then Tobias.
The more Albus learned about Eileen, the better he found himself comprehending the enigma known as Severus.
Specialists were brought in who confirmed the grim prognosis; in response, he ordered a new mattress that would cradle and support her in comfort, as though she was back in the womb. Magical tests were ordered, and he pored over the results which stated unequivocally that Eileen's brain was severely damaged and that she was completely unaware. In turn, he then hired attendants who talked to her in the off chance that some small part of Eileen was aware. Music was played, aromatherapy was utilized and massage treatments were continued.
In her final days, Albus desired that Eileen be cared for and protected as she had not been in her life.
Every day found him visiting Eileen, making time in his full schedule through the copious use of a Time Turner. These outings found Albus talking to her about how proud she should be of Severus, and on rare occasions, Fawkes also gave impromptu concerts which seemed to ease Eileen into a deeper slumber. He also carefully exchanged her bright woolen socks and her mittens to clean pairs every time he visited. On one of his first visits, Albus had noticed that her clenched hands were cyanotic and cold and the staff had agreed to his suggestion of mittens and socks. It will do her no harm was their response.
Today, she had a touch of fever, and her breath rattled in her chest. Her pale cheeks were flushed, and she drooled onto the knitted bear that he had made for her.
Pneumonia.
In her current reduced state, Albus feared that it could be fatal.
Tenderly, he tucked the bright afghan around Eileen's twisted frame. It had originally started off as a baby blanket, but after one long night of compulsive knitting too many; Albus had discovered that it would only be suitable for a Hagrid-sized baby. So, he had given it to Eileen. The afghan placed just so, he then traced a sigil for a blessing on her forehead. It wasn't much, but it was all he could do for Severus' mother.
He chatted about various Severus related incidents until his voice was hoarse. To rest his voice, Dumbledore sat in silence for a bit, debating Minerva. Accepting the bitter truth that he had wounded her in his zealous desire to help Severus, Albus had decided it best to withdraw from her, keeping counsel with only Fawkes. Merlin knew how much he felt Minerva's absence in his life as he relied heavily on her keen insight and her sense of humor to keep him focused, but Albus thought it best that he allow her to heal.
As he hadn't allowed Severus.
Had Minerva found Severus? She and Horace's supposedly torrid relationship, which had been a cover for their clandestine searching for Severus, had significantly cooled in the last three months.
Perhaps they had found him?
Yes, they must have located him. That would explain why Minerva often disappeared for hours at a time by herself and why Horace only occasionally escorted her offsite. For the first time in far too long, he felt a spark of hope, and Fawkes responded by joyfully breaking into spontaneous song.
Merlin be praised, Minerva had discovered where that foreign mage had stashed Severus.
Tonight, he would speak to Minerva, inform her of Eileen's precarious status and ask her to find out what Severus desired in the matter. He'd swear on Fawkes that he'd stay away from the traumatized Severus, but it was imperative for him to discover what Severus wished for his mother's treatment.
"Master Dumbledore?" Sister Elizabeth spoke from the door. "I need to speak to you."
The time had come to make a painful decision that was long overdue, and Albus prayed that his time, after a lifetime of wrong choices that he'd make the proper decision.
"Yes, I believe we must talk," Albus softly agreed. "Not here. Shall I meet you in the garden in a bit?"
The hospice witch agreed, and then Albus bid adieu to the comatose Eileen.
"I'll see you tomorrow, Eileen," he promised. "Sleep well."
The two met in the hospice's Garden of Solace, a small garden with plenty of private nooks and crannies for reflection, mediation and serious conversation. They sat next to each other on a teak bench and Fawkes flew to a rowan tree, where he hid among the leaves.
"Yes, I know that we need to discuss resuscitation if Eileen stops breathing," Albus stated. He kept his eyes straight ahead, not daring to look at the sympathetic Sister Elizabeth as he was fearful that his composure would slip.
"Not just that, I need to know how aggressive you wish her treatment to be. Eileen has a spot of pneumonia. It could go either way as she's fought it off before. The best you can expect is that she beats it, but she will have it again. There's too much damage in her lungs, so the slightest cold escalates into pneumonia. I need to know, as her guardian, do you wish Eileen to be magically resuscitated if she stops breathing?" Sister Elizabeth's voice was compassionate.
"I wish her son was here," Albus confessed to the hospice witch. "I feel unequal to this task, as I need the wisdom and compassion of Solomon. Recent events have proven that I lack both in great quantity."
They sat in silence for a bit and then Albus sighed.
"When she stops breathing, let it end," Albus finally decided. The weight of the necessary decision weighed heavily on his soul and he wondered how much he could endure before he broke. Truly, what other choice was there? To prolong her torment? No, he was not Tobias. "I did not know her well when she was a student, but I do not believe that she would be happy to linger… like this. Yet I can not hasten her demise. Feed, hydrate and medicate her, but when the ends comes, may it be swift and compassionate."
Sister Elizabeth squeezed his hand. That simple act of sympathy nearly had him come completely undone, and he roughly brushed at his eyes.
"If her passing over… is prolonged… and painful, I also give permission for it to be hastened in a compassionate manner. Her son, when he is found, may wish otherwise, and his desires will supersede and overrule my decisions. Severus truly knows how she would wish this to be handled."
The painful decision made, Sister Elizabeth left him alone in the Garden of Solace. But he wasn't truly alone, as Fawkes was with him, and his memories of Severus haunted him.
Minerva took the Time Turner and twisted it carefully. She could, at best, only add a few hours to her day, as Poppy and Filius were both keeping too close an eye on her. The physical strain of using the Time Turner had a cumulative affect which was apparent to those that knew for what to look. Minerva wasn't young anymore, not by a long shot, and it was only through sheer force of will that she managed to keep up with the pace of the recent spate of thirty hour days.
One hour, two hours, three hours…
In her classroom, a logy Minerva was busy teaching the firsties even while a weary Minerva was heading out to Greater Manchester Urban Area, where she would painstakingly search every damn block on foot. Somewhere, out there, amid the over two million inhabitants of the Greater Manchester Urban Area, Severus and her goddaughter were hiding in broad daylight, shielded by a Dark Wizard who had somehow managed to turn Filius Flitwick's goblin heritage against him.
The damn pendant had worked.
Worked perfectly, but they had lost a month… a MONTH… before Filius realized that his device had been tainted and was being used against them. She and Horace had been merrily bounced all over the bloody United Kingdom for a month… a MONTH… while her goddaughter was contaminated by that foul wizard for a month… A MONTH! It had taken Filius Flitwick and Septima Vector two full weeks to perform the necessary Arithmancy to determine where the nexus of the spell was.
It had finally been calibrated and tentatively formulated that Severus was somewhere in the conurbation sprawl known as the Greater Manchester Urban Area. Because Draganov had already used their magic against them, Filius thought it best that not use Magic to locate Severus, which left Horace and Minerva walking the streets.
Horace was a dear, sweet man, but he could not hope to match her powerful stride for long, so she often did her reconnaissance alone. Being male, stubborn and proud, Horace had offered his assistance; boasting that he had lost close to two stones thanks to the McGonagall Power Walking tour of Manchester and claiming a much greater stamina for all manners of physical exertion. Minerva, while being much appreciative of his greater stamina in bed, still gave him the less physical tasks to perform such as keeping logs of her travels and updating the Arithmancy formulas to find the next most likely spot.
Times like now, Minerva much preferred Physical Action rather than bookkeeping, but she understood the need for calm, rational planning. It didn't mean that the witch didn't profoundly regretted her kindness over allowing Slughorn to skive off the foot work when she remembered the Russian Auror who had been found dead in an alley. That unnamed Russian Auror had made the mistake of going after Draganov alone, and Horace was quick on his wand.
Perhaps… perhaps today she would only search for an hour or two, and then skip dinner and go directly to bed. Lately, her sleeping was fractured into brief catnaps, as her overwhelming concern for Severus was manifesting in her dreams. Truly, Minerva didn't understand the meaning of the plum colored unicorn with the fuchsia horn, even after reading her dusty copy of Unfogging the Future.
But what of a dragonhide clad Severus pouring potions one handed? And what of a laughing Severus standing in a circle while unseen wizards and witches flew around him?
Laughing? Flying without a broom?
She had just finished lacing up her sensible yet comfortable walking shoes when Fawkes poofed into her room. The Phoenix deposited an envelope on her desk and then he realized that he wasn't alone in the room.
You're in your class, Fawkes informed her in melodious tones. But you're also here. I will inform Albus as he desperately needs to speak to you regarding a matter of supreme importance. Do not leave.
Fawkes rarely mindspoke to her, and at most, he only spoke a few words, but this… this was a full fledged conversation.
"Fawkes, I can't talk to him right now, I have plans…" she feebly protested even as the damnable flying fire hazard popped out.
There was a knock on her door, and she groaned. Albus must have been standing outside her door in the hopes that Minerva had skived off class! She needed to be in Manchester, not here!
"Minerva, it is I. May I speak to you?" Albus softly requested. "I know you're in there, Fawkes just informed me."
Not Albus! Not now! Why did he want to talk to her now? Ever since she had begun to 'date' Horace, Albus had kept himself aloof from her, possibly out of a noble and completely misguided desire of not causing Horace any jealousy. It had made searching for Severus easier and yet not, as she could still sense Albus' misery radiating off him. He struggled to hide it, but as the days lengthened, his jolly, barmy façade was crumbling. Even the dense Sirius Black had noticed and commented to her regarding Albus' melancholy.
"Please…. It's about Severus… I must speak to you," pleaded Albus. "Please, open the door."
Requesting that she open her door rather than using his ability as Headmaster to enter her quarters was new. Not that he had ever barged into her quarters uninvited but… Albus was changing, just as surely as she was. Regretfully, Minerva unfastened the bolt on her door and gave permission for him to enter.
"Minerva, forgive this interruption. This is of utmost importance, it's regarding Severus' mother. Please, tell me that you have found him and that you're keeping his location a secret. I must get a message to him, please… I won't ask where he is, I won't attempt to find out where he is hiding, I won't send Fawkes after you… I swear it… but just please assure me that you know where he is!"
It took her a moment or three to decipher what Albus had said, as he had spoken in a rush. Her silence was taken as refusal as Albus began to argue his cause.
"It's his mother. She's developed pneumonia again, Minerva, and depending on the severity, it could lead to respiratory failure. I don't have the faintest idea of what his wishes are in this matter, and I fear to make the wrong decision. Please, ask him what his wishes are and I will inform the hospice," pleaded Albus.
Gracelessly, Minerva collapsed into her settee, and Albus' hopeful expression faded. He knelt before her, looking up at her.
"I know, you have good reasons to doubt my sincerity, but I swear to you on anything, on Fawkes, on what once existed between us, I will not ask you to reveal Severus' location to me. Just contact him and ask him what he wishes to be done," Albus requested.
"Albus, I have no idea where Severus is," she insisted.
"Minerva, I know you and Horace were pretending to date so you two could have a ready excuse for searching for Severus. You two were going out frequently and now it's faded into an only once a week outing, yet you go out alone several times a week. I pray that you've found him, and you're keeping him safe. It's all that kept me from going quite spare today knowing that you were the one protecting Severus and the child."
Albus' blue eyes were full of hopeful trust. The faith Albus possessed in her was unwarranted and more than a trifle unnerving.
"Please, tell me how he fares," pleaded Albus. "Is he well? Do you need anything to help them? I can provide whatever necessary funds you require…. I know you won't take my money, but please… let me know if I can help…"
"Albus… I honestly don't know where Severus is," she repeated.
"I know you doubt me, Minerva, but this isn't about me… it's about his mother," Albus protested.
She truly has no idea where he is, Fawkes inserted.
Albus' expressive face fell when he realized that she spoke the truth. Damning herself for being a sentimental, overly emotional prat, she slipped out of the settee, and sat down next to him on her floor. She slipped her hand into his, and she squeezed it hard.
"We buggered it up," she explained. "That mage that sent us on a Soulride realized that Filius isn't completely pure human. He turned Filius' goblin heritage against us and has led us on a merry chase all over the United Kingdom. Septima and Filius believe that Severus might be located somewhere in the Greater Manchester Urban Area but we can't even be sure of that as the Mage has properly and thoroughly Hexed anything that involves Filius. Since Filius taught me, besides being one of my closest friends, I fear that I'm still adversely affected as the Hex considers me a factotum of Filius Flitwick."
"Don't be so fatalistic, Minerva. I know that you will find Severus," Albus assured her. "If anyone can, you will."
Albus entwined his fingers with hers and refused to let go.
"I've… missed… you," he whispered. "I thought I should give you some space… some relief from the stress of dealing with me… but, oh, Minerva, how I've missed you. I've been… lonely… without you."
"You bloody berk," she snapped, not unkindly, but still surprisingly fearful of where Albus was going with his unexpected confession. There were some things best left undisturbed and the remains of their love affair was one of them. "Why?"
"I saw you… after your first date with Horace. You looked so weary and careworn, and I knew it was my fault. Once again, through my intrinsic flaws, I had managed to deeply wound you. This time, it was by forcing you to constantly buffer Severus from me," Albus softly admitted. "I am so sorry, Minerva. I want you to know that I am sincerely repentant for putting you through this."
"You don't need to apologize to me. You wanted to do right by Severus, and you overwhelmed him. Therefore, you need to apologize to him after I find him. Though first, I will make him bitterly regret running away," she announced.
"You sound so fierce, Minerva, but I know you well enough to know that you will weep over him while he fiercely protests your over-sentimentality," teased Albus. His voice was tender and affectionate.
"I'll scold him first and only then will I weep tears of joy that we've found him," Minerva protested, as she felt her stern reputation needed to be upheld. "But you don't need to apologize to me."
"I wish you'd accept my admission of guilt, Minerva," continued Albus. His other hand was resting on top of their hands and he was gently stroking her thumb with his index finger. "I'm requesting absolution from you, Minerva."
"Why is it so important to you that you apologize to me?" she kept her voice calm, refusing to display her unease on how this conversation was heading.
"Because your good opinion matters to me," Albus softly explained. "I loved you, Minerva."
Dumbledore turned to her and Minerva knew that she was in very dangerous territory.
"I must acknowledge the painful fact that though it has been far too many years and nothing will ever resurrect our passionate past, I still love you."
He tensed then, waiting for Minerva to belittle his sincerity.
"Forgive me, my dearest friend, I should never have confessed that to you," he pleaded. "What we once had is over and I've long since accepted that. The situation with Eileen has made me quite maudlin, I'm afraid."
She had almost forgotten this rarely seen side of Dumbledore, the desperately insecure soul that feared to reveal his deepest emotions.
"I still love you, too, Albus, and I will forgive you as I know you meant to be helpful," Minerva gently reassured him. "But what of Severus?"
"Severus?" Albus questioned. His blue eyes were full of unshed tears. "Severus loves you very much and there would be no one more delighted than I if you two could come to an understanding. I truly mean that. You could be wonderful for him; just don't worry about what everyone will say. Carpe Severus, Minerva. Seize Severus and take him to your bed! Love him like he deserves to be loved."
"You daft prat, he loves you," she retorted.
"He believes that he loves me; because I fully embody what he believes love to be. Love for Severus is an uncaring, neglectful, abusive bastard," spat Albus. In a softer tone, he continued the conversation. "You'd be far better for him than I could ever hope to be. I deeply wound all those for whom I care. I wasn't patient enough with Ariana and Aberforth, I wasn't adequately mature to appreciate what I had with Elphias and I wasn't sufficiently demonstrative for you. And Severus? I demonstrated entirely too well how much I hadn't learned from those experiences."
"I don't remember you being quite so overly dramatic when we were involved," snapped Minerva, putting a great deal of bite in her tone. "Shall I find you a skull? You could talk to poor Yorick."
Albus smiled and then he nodded his head.
"I am rather mawkish, aren't I? It's not only you whom I missed, but also Severus. I find myself hoping that this has been nothing more than a horrible dream, and he'll storm through my office door, determined to have all of Gryffindor expelled." Albus then gently laughed. "Sometimes, I pick out my robes by wondering which one would have offended his sensibilities the most. Not that he ever said anything to me, but I could tell how much he hated some of my robes."
He continued to stroke her thumb and Minerva shivered.
"I am having such dreams, Minerva. I dream of what Severus went through and… I must admit that I still can't understand how… people could take pleasure… in…," Albus paused before he hesitantly continued. "It's supposed to be an act of love and affection, Minerva. I fail to understand why some take such pleasure in turning something so beautiful into something depraved."
"I believe that some suppose by bringing you down to their level that they have somehow elevated themselves," Minerva informed him.
"Wilkes could never dream to be on your level," shakily protested Albus.
"Well, no, not after you and Fawkes got done with him," Minerva reminded him. "He's not capable of doing very much now, is he?"
She wiped her eyes, and Albus moved closer to her. Carefully, he put his arm around her and he brought her close. Overwhelmed by her physical exhaustion and the onslaught of emotions both old and new, Minerva broke down and wept. In response, Albus held her still closer and allowed her to cry herself out, and so she sobbed until his robe was soaked. Minerva wept for both Severus and Albus, two men trapped in an unenviable, impossible situation. She wept for the comatose Eileen Prince and the granddaughter she'd never know and, not least of all, Minerva permitted herself the rare luxury of crying over her own past traumas.
Albus insisted on continuing to embrace her even after she ceased her scriking. He rubbed her back and softly chastised her for holding everything in. Albus then leaned in and attempted to kiss her on the cheek.
It wasn't a surprise that after her breakdown that the two kissed. They had been lovers and they possessed a strong friendship both before and after their love affair. It was not uncommon for them to give the other a friendly buzz on the cheek with Minerva traditionally criticizing the Herculean effort it took to find a place where she wouldn't get a mouthful of beard.
What was uncommon was that their lips met and that their chaste kiss deepened into something… more.
This is not a good thing, Minerva and Albus both thought as they instinctively recoiled. They looked everywhere but at each other.
"Then I have this dream involving Severus, a unicorn and you," Albus stated. His voice was a trifle higher than his normal baritone as he was quite flustered by what had transpired.
"Purple?" Minerva quickly interrupted. "Is the unicorn purple?"
"No, I'd say it was more a shade of medium orchid," Albus admitted. "Why do you ask?"
"Just a lucky guess," Minerva whispered. "Would you mind? Leaving? I think I need to lie down."
She shooed him out of her quarters, uncaring that a horrified Albus misunderstood why she wanted him to leave post-haste. It wasn't the damn kiss… Well, yes, it was and no, it wasn't.
It was her response to the damn kiss that frightened her. It was the fact that they were both sharing dreams with a horrifically colored unicorn. It was Filius Flitwick's understanding blue eyes as he requested that Minerva just needed to think of Severus when she was searching Manchester as Filius just knew that she'd be the one to find Severus. Filius had known since day one what had happened, had gently suggested the possibility to her and hadn't ever mentioned it again after she had vehemently refused to even consider it.
"No," she weakly protested. "I can't be Bonded to the both of them. I can't be."
Severus Snape shrugged off his dragonhide surcoat and neatly hung it one-handedly on the hook. It had been a long, busy day of Potion Making and he was pleasantly tired. Besides the chopping of roots and boiling of solutions, there had been a loud and lengthy discussion with Sasha after they had both read Solvents & Solutions Monthly. The Bulgarian had refused to consider refining his current Calming Drafts so to prevent possible adverse side affects. The argument had ended with Severus the victor and Sasha grudgingly admitting defeat in the battle of the Potions. Severus quite enjoyed it when he was right, as he would earn another one of Sasha's bonuses. A few more bonuses and he would be quite close to paying off his treatment.
The three months of his Potions partnership with Sasha had been exceedingly good to Sasha, Oxana and most importantly Ariana, who now was the slightest paunch hidden by baggy clothes and concealment spells. Severus had brought in a significant amount of revenue into Sasha's shop and he had been rewarded accordingly.
"Go rest in the garden, the weather's warm, and I'll bring you and Oxana something to eat," Sasha informed him. "Need to keep my goddaughter properly nourished."
Ah yes, Sasha was busy playing House Elf and minion as he had also lost his bet with Oxana over who would learn to Fly first. The witch had grasped Flying as easily as breathing and she had delightedly flown circles around a not-quite as quick Sasha. Severus had the distinct idea that Sasha had just as easily grasped how to fly but had deliberately pretended otherwise, just so Oxana would have one over on him.
What a strange relationship the two had.
Never before having the chance to witness love up close, Severus often marveled at their tight bond. He caught the two older mages hugging and snogging which was rather astonishing considering how old Sasha was. Sasha was ninety, if not more! The duo went dancing several nights a week on what they laughing called 'date nights', leaving Severus home alone with the fuzzy familiars. They argued and fought but no matter how heated their disagreements grew, their arguments were nothing compared to Eileen and Tobias' all out drunken brawls. No threats of suicide, no verbal condemnation and no shouted reminders that the reason they had married was because Oxana the bloody slut had gotten up the duff.
No still form lying at the bottom of the steps while a drunken Sasha nodded his head in approval that he had at last, finally shut the damn bitch up.
Bitch had it coming to her, his father had stated proudly to the Bobbies before they had taken him away.
I wish I had someone like Oxana, Severus thought. Someone who knows what I am and who loves me anyway; though I could do without the Fundamental Bond.
He sat down on the teak bench and was immediately greeted by Nadya. The archangel cat purred and he began to scratch her with his left hand. Sasha had decreed that scratching was a very good form of physical therapy for his left hand, but Severus secretly believed that Sasha was weary of the cat hair on his clothes.
What would it like? Severus wondered. He was exhausted and so he closed his eyes, content to doze in the surprisingly warm spring day. To have someone who truly cared about me?
Drifting in a pleasant doze, he pretended he was kissing someone… someone who was kissing him back just as fervently. They were sitting on the floor and there was an arm wrapped around him. Not too tightly, but just enough.
His partner was… Minerva… it…was Albus… and he bemoaned how difficult it was to place the kiss so to not find his mouth full of beard.
Severus woke with a start then, his heart pounding fit to burst out of his chest. Over the last three months, he had taken every memory, every thought of Albus and what had occurred and had savagely repressed them. It was the only way he could keep functioning, to keep the nightmares at bay. He had Potions to brew, Charms to teach; Severus didn't have time to be a whimpering sad sack.
Naively, he believed that he had come so far with dealing with what had happened. Yet, he had instinctively recoiled from Sasha earlier today, as he caught the long haired, bearded wizard out of the corner of his eye. The sighting had caused him to panic, believing that Albus had managed to locate him.
It would take time to heal. That Severus knew and accepted, but he couldn't escape the feeling that he was rapidly running out of time.
"Have you found him?" hissed the Dark Lord. His hapless follower made his usual plaintive excuses that Severus Snape was cunning and sly and proving quite illusive which meant that the answer was still 'no'. Truly, the Dark Lord might be willing to admit to only himself that he had made a slight mistake in deciding to use Severus Snape in his plans to weaken Dumbledore. While the choice of Severus had been true inspiration, as no one else among his followers would have so deeply disturbed and distracted that blasted old man, it meant that he had lost his most gifted devotee.
Leaving him with the rift raft who was piteously explaining to his Lord why he couldn't find a drained, pregnant wizard with only one arm. Severus could have easily found a shattered, knock up, magical cripple!
"You may feed Nagini," the Dark Lord announced, interrupting the fourth or fifth time recitation of why Peter Pettigrew couldn't locate Severus Snape. He ignored Pettigrew's whimpers of fears, but refrained from telling him that Nagini would never feast on Peter. She had exquisite taste and Peter Pettigrew was not at all to her liking. Too gristly and he failed to bathe regularly.
"Lucius, you were friendly with Severus. Do you believe that he has betrayed me? That he is in fact being sheltered by Dumbledore?" The Dark Lord questioned.
"No, my Lord, I do not believe that Severus would have remained with him. He was quite fearful of Albus whenever Albus visited him," Lucius carefully reminded his Lord in a valiant attempt not to earn his Lord's displeasure. "My son says that Dumbledore is obviously feeling the strain of Severus' disappearance, and he's not that good an actor to be faking it. Could Severus be dead?"
"No, Severus will die in the throes of labor, the child unborn. He's alive, Lucius, I cast the spells myself to ensure that he would die in childbirth. You will find him, Lucius and you will bring him back to me," the Dark Lord ordered. "When I'm done with him, he'll willingly return to Albus Dumbledore."
After Lucius left, the Dark Lord sighed in disappointment. "Severus, Severus, Severus, you must know that I am most displeased with you."
Asen Peychinovich was on duty when the Special Adviser of some ranking or other to the International Confederation of Wizards stormed into Nurmengard. The slight mage was surrounded by a literal brigade of wizard enforcers.
"I must speak to your prisoner," the Japanese mage demanded. "We've discovered a cache of his weapons."
"Do you have proper authorization?" Asen protested. Damn it, everyone was on break, leaving him to deal with THIS debacle. The moment he spoke he regretted it, as the mage's cold eyes narrowed slightly as though debating Asen's life expectancy. Would it be minutes or hours?
The mage growled his displeasure and produced the require documentation which Asen quickly verified.
"Only me," the Japanese mage insisted. "I may be required to use methods that you would prefer not to be aware of."
The brigade then blocked Asen's view of the prisoner and he decided it best not to protest.
Ishikawa Byakko entered his Lord's chambers where he was warmly greeted by Gellert.
"Asen's working for that upstart in the United Kingdom. We've confirmed it," Byakko tersely explained. "Snezhana and I believe that you should be made aware of our plans. We're setting up an ambush for Dumbledore and this latest Dark Lord, and thought you could be instrumental in setting it up."
"Tell me, what I may do from my luxurious vacation spot?" questioned Gellert.
"Write a letter to Minerva McGonagall, advising her that you have found where Damyan is hiding with the boy…." As Ishikawa explained Snezhana's plan, Gellert's smile grew broader. It was reassuring to know that he could still affect the world.
When Byakko left Nurmengard, Gellert was sporting assorted bruises and abrasions. Gellert had insisted that Byakko wound him so to back up his story regarding Gellert being most unhappy to assist with defusing the weapons cache. It was only a small weapons cache, able to wipe out modern day Tokyo with the Muggles called an earthquake, so Snezhana had decided the lost of it was worth the cost.
In Byakko's pocket, he had a private note to Albus from Gellert, advising him of Severus' supposed location, and Asen had his own note to deliver, a sealed note to Minerva McGonagall informing her that Gellert feared Albus was walking into an ambush and would need assistance. Both Minerva and Albus wouldn't believe that Gellert was capable of being altruistic, but they couldn't risk it. Prison had a way of changing even the hardest souls.
And yes, that upstart Dark Lord would be there, as no doubt Asen would bring him the sealed note first before delivering it to Minerva.
Albus, Minerva, the Order and the Death Eaters, all trapped in the same location, in an area that had been deliberately laced with magical booby traps.
It would be a magical massacre of historical proportions.
It would be glorious.