Chapter 13: Dealing With Severus

The summer break was so beautiful that it might have come out of a fairy tale. Harry stood in the sunny garden, a cool breeze ruffling his hair, and watched Iris and Draco zoom around on brooms high above. Normally, it would be quite dangerous to let children do such things, but Harry could catch them if they fell.

Iris went in a zig-zag line, and circled around a tree. Draco followed her, but with more careful maneuvers. It was fairly obvious the young Malfoy did not have as much talent as Harry's sister did.

It came from James Potter, most likely, who had been a Quidditch player in Hogwarts.

Harry laughed to himself. And my intelligence? Everyone probably thinks I inherited it from Lily Potter.

It all had a twisted kind of roundness that even Harry stopped and admired it for a second.

He felt a surge of happiness through his horcrux bond, and looked up to see Iris speeding through the air. Draco trailed after her, eyes determined.

He would not catch her. Harry didn't care much for brooms, but he could tell that much. Iris was too good for him.

The night after Harry's first interrogation of Severus, he did indeed bring down a pensieve and show the man the memory of Lily Potter's death.

Severus had screamed like a little girl when he came into his cell. He shook his head over and over. "No! No, no, no my lord, please no!" he begged.

Harry set up the pensieve next to Severus, dropped the memory in, and gestured for Severus to dunk his head in. Severus shook his head, holding himself back from the pensieve as if it were a poisonous spider.

Harry grabbed the back of his head, and with strength that a twelve-year old boy should not have possessed, pushed it into the pensieve. Severus went screaming and crying.

After a couple of minutes, he pulled him back out. Severus blinked, looking dazed. He met Harry's eyes and stared at him for a few seconds, mouth hanging open. Then, he began crying. His head fell to his chest, and he cried like someone who has lost everything.

Harry went out of the cell, taking Bella with him. The woman didn't pout this time, even though she hadn't gotten a chance to torture Severus at all. She looked at the sight of Snape crying, hanging limp against the wall, and gave a content smile.

"Do you want anything more done, my lord?" Barty asked when they went out. "Should we hurt him again?"

"No," Harry said, shaking his head. "That part is over. Now we extend the olive branch and invite him back into the fold. Just take care of his needs, and leave him to his devices."

Barty nodded. As Harry and Bella left the dungeon, she told him: "My lord, you are brilliant." Her voice was breathy, lustful.

"Yes, thank you, Bella," Harry said. It occurred to him that if a woman spoke to any other boy in that tone of voice, she would likely be arrested on the spot.

He scoffed. As if Bella wouldn't already be arrested the second she stuck her head out the door.

Severus felt empty. For the first time in his life, he felt no drive to do anything. He just wanted to disappear, stop existing.

Lily's face came to his mind again. He let it come, not hiding away from it. Hiding didn't work.

Lily, lying on the floor, completely still. Her beautiful green eyes, glassy and staring at the ceiling.

Lily, holding her baby daughter, and screaming as her son was killed. Begging for the Dark Lord to spare her daughter.

But he did spare her, he thought, his voice small in his head. He never admitted to killing Iris Potter. The newspaper had said Iris was found at the wreckage completely unharmed.

In the memory, Severus had even seen James Potter die. He had dreamed of that many times, fantasized about it when he'd been a Death Eater. Kill the bastard and show the world how "honorable" he'd really been. But now, he felt nothing but a light sense of shame. Potter had died trying to save Lily and his children. He'd fought the Dark Lord, even though he knew his chances of beating him were beyond slim.

What had he done? What had Severus done, except hide and slink away like a rat, and serve a monster who killed innocent people? For all the hate he harbored towards James Potter, it seemed that in the end, Potter really had been the more honorable one. Lily had been right to love him. Severus was nothing but a waste of space. He should never have existed.

The door to his cell creaked open again. Severus didn't look up to see who it was; it could be Barty, bringing food or coming to take him to the restroom, it could be Bellatrix, coming to practice curses on him.

But not him, Severus begged in his mind. Not him, please not him.

"Hello, Severus," came the child's voice. Severus whimpered out loud. It was him. Harry Potter, but not Harry Potter. The Dark Lord.

"Please," Severus said. His throat felt so dry. "My lord. Please. I will do anything. Please."

Only three nights, and you've already broken, a part of his mind said. A little torture was all it took. Fool.

Fuck you, he thought back.

The memory. The damned memory of the Dark Lord walking through the Potter's home, killing the family one by one. Ending with Lily. Severus didn't want that. He didn't want to see Lily again, he never wanted to think about her again. He would do anything, if it meant getting out of this cell and away from that memory.

"I believe you now, Severus," the Dark Lord said. "Do you remember what I said? I could have taken you three days ago, but I wanted you to sit down here and ponder for a while. And it looks like you have been pondering much."

"My lord, please."

"Oh, don't worry. I've come to end it tonight."

Severus gasped. His body went still. End it? Was he going to kill him? What had the point of all this been, then?

Yes, he thought. That wouldn't be so bad. End me.

There was the sounds of paper shuffling. Severus dared to look up, trembling. The Dark Lord, Harry Potter, was holding a folder with a piece of parchment inside it.

Even in his current state, Severus's mind clicked the puzzle pieces together. Of course. It was a contract, one that would bind him to the Dark Lord's service. Likely for the rest of his natural life.

With some amazement, Severus realized he wanted to sign it.

On some intellectual level, he realized what the Dark Lord had done, how brilliantly he'd broken down his defenses. But he didn't care. If he could sign that paper and get out of this cell, then he would.

"This is a contract, Severus," the Dark Lord said. "It will make sure you obey me. Would you care to read it?"

He stuck out the parchment in front of him. The words looked hazy to Severus. He blinked, and some things came into focus.

I will follow Lord Voldemort's commands to the best of my ability.

I will not attempt to disobey Lord Voldemort.

I will not try to take my life or harm myself in such a way that I am unable to serve Lord Voldemort.

I will not attempt to betray Lord Voldemort, with the intention of causing him harm or death, or with the intention of disobeying him.

"It is quite extensive," the Dark Lord said. "But you needn't worry about that. If you break the contract, then your magic will be lost."

I don't know if I really care, my lord, Severus almost said.

"I'm going to add another clause to it," the Dark Lord said. "If you break the contract, then a certain memory will be returned to you. Look at me, Severus."

Severus looked up at Harry Potter's face. Oh, how he hated this boy.

"I can take away your memory. A certain part of it. The things you saw in the pensieve."

Severus blinked. His mind felt like a stone. It refused to work.

"I will take that memory away, on the condition that if you break the contract, it will all be returned to you. What do you say, Severus? Shall I add it?"

He looked at the bloodstained floor. There was a branching path here. He could take one road, or the other.

Keep it, a voice spoke. The memories hurt, but they're the truth. The truth makes you stronger.

Severus closed his eyes. He felt close to tears again. He didn't want the truth. He wanted to stop seeing Lily's face. Her glassy eyes, her mouth slightly open. He wanted to forget that.

He found himself nodding as tears came down his cheeks. "Yes," he croaked. "Yes, my lord, please add that clause."

"Very well. Done."

"Watch it, Severus," the Dark Lord said. "The chains are coming off."

Metal clanged, and Severus fell to the floor. He yelped, falling face first onto the ground. He hit his chin, and his teeth clacked together painfully.

He tried to push himself up, but his arms had no strength.

Small hands came onto his cheeks. His head was forced to look up, and he found himself face to face with Harry Potter.

"Look into my eyes," he said. "Let down your occlumency."

Severus did as was asked. He felt something enter his mind, searching around with a callous touch. His head began hurting at random spots, like someone had cut his skull open and was tapping the flesh of his brain with a hammer.

His thoughts faded. His mind became fuzzy, and his eyelids drooped.

After some time—Severus could not tell how much, he was too tired to count—Harry Potter let go of his head and set it on the floor. Severus laid there, eyes barely open, vision darkened. He felt dead.

Lily, he thought. An ocean of sorrow crashed into him, though he could not tell why. Lily was dead, he knew that, he'd accepted it years ago.

"Lily," he whimpered. Tears welled in his eyes.

For some reason, thinking of her made him very sad, but he could not remember why.

Severus sat against the wall, breathing heavily. His head felt like it had been used as a ball in a Quidditch game.

The cell door was open, and he was no longer chained. His wrists were red. The skin on them was broken in long swaths, and dried blood caked the cuts.

Lily. The Dark Lord had manipulated Severus with her, somehow. He could not remember what had happened, other than a great emotional pain that he did not want to go near. His memories of the night before were muddled, and felt like some nightmare that had come alive.

No. Whatever the Dark Lord had done, Severus didn't care. He would never go near that pain ever again.

"Here," the Dark Lord said, handing him a quill. The feather was red.

Severus took the quill, and knelt forward. A piece of parchment was on the floor.

I will obey Lord Voldemort. I will obey Lord Voldemort. I will never betray Lord Voldemort. I will become his house elf.

That was what the contract amounted to.

Severus went down to the signature box, and signed it. His handwriting was remarkably pristine for all the torture he'd endured these past three days.

Severus Snape, he wrote. A stinging pain erupted deep in his wrist, and Severus realized the quill was writing not with ink, but with his blood.

After he was done, he set the quill aside and looked up at Harry Potter. The boy held out his hand to him.

Severus took that hand, and shook it. This was a dead boy's hand. A dead boy who was being driven around by a demon.

A closing sensation came upon him as he shook, like the final piece of a puzzle clicking into place. It was something deep inside him. His magic had accepted the deal. If he broke it… the magic would be gone. But not only that, something would come back to him. A memory, the contract said, a memory of what had happened to him last night.

Severus swallowed. The return of that memory frightened him more than the thought of losing his magic.

Harry smiled. It was a genuinely nice smile; he looked friendly. Handsome, even. The green eyes looked uncomfortably familiar to Severus.

But he remembered the true smile, the one he'd seen in his living room the night he was abducted. The glowing red eyes. The pale skin around them. How the air had darkened around his head. And his lips. Curved into an inhuman grin. That was the real smile, not this facade the Dark Lord had on.

With a surprising amount of strength, Harry pulled him up. Severus put his hand on the wall to steady himself, groaning as he stood.

"That's that then," the Dark Lord said, and clapped him on the forearm. Looking at him now, it was hard to remember the thing that had tortured him these past days. Surely, this innocent looking child couldn't do any harm?

But the bloodstains on the floor and walls spoke a different story.

"Come, Severus," Harry said. "Let's get you dressed and back into action."

The boy clasped his hands behind his back, then began walking out of the cell. He looked so much like a little James Potter.

Severus followed him out. He glanced at the bloodstains behind him one last time and thought: That's all the dignity I had. He bled it all out of me.

Narcissa Malfoy was not happy to see Severus out of the dungeon. The woman openly glared at him as he passed her, as if it was his fault he'd been kidnapped and taken to her home.

Severus was dressed in black robes, and other than some scars hidden behind his clothing, the only indicator that he'd been tortured was the lack of color on his face.

He shaded his eyes as he walked through the Manor, following Harry. It was daytime. His internal clock was messed up from having to endure late nights with Bella and Barty. The light stabbed at his sensitive eyes, making him squint.

Harry led him into the large sitting room. This place was familiar; he'd visited Malfoy on occasion, mostly to tutor his son Draco. Even before that, this place had been used as the Death Eaters' base.

"Have a seat, Severus," Harry said. "Dobby?" A crack sounded, and a house-elf appeared. "Get my friend here some tea, water, and biscuits. He's had a very long day."

"Yes, Master Harry," Dobby squeaked, and apparated away to obey the orders.

Severus sat down, and let the tiredness leak out of him. It felt good to finally be out of that chained position, with his hands above his head.

Harry sat across from him. Merlin, Severus thought, raising his eyebrows. Now that he inspected him closely, he saw that the boy did look almost exactly like James Potter. Except for the green eyes, and the slight curves to the face that resembled Lily's.

He carried himself differently, however. Whereas James Potter would have sat relaxed, even arrogant, Harry looked proper with his back up straight, and one leg crossed over the other.

Severus sighed. Why are you comparing him to Potter? He's not really his son.

Dobby appeared with a tray of steaming tea, biscuits, and a glass of water. Severus took the glass and drank it down, feeling his throat gain some much needed moisture. He grabbed the tea after, taking little sips, feeling its warmth spread through his body.

"How do you feel, Severus?" Harry asked.

"Fine, my lord."

"Call me Harry when we're among others."

"Uh, yes, my l—Harry. I feel fine, Harry."

Harry nodded. "Good. Stay here and recover, Severus."

"My—Harry? How long will I have to stay here?"

"Oh, however long you want. You can go back home tonight, if you want." A smile came to Harry's face, that pleasant, friendly smile from before. "But I like having you around."

Severus's mouth opened and closed. He looked down at his tea and nodded. "Yes, Harry."

"Part of the reason I brought you back is because of what I'll do at Hogwarts this year. I'll need your help."

"My help? What… what will you be doing, Harry?"

Harry twined his fingers together, and began. "There's something inside the castle that needs to be gotten out…"

As the boy spoke, footsteps came down the hall outside, light ones, quickly moving. Someone small was running. Coming towards them.

Severus and Harry both looked to the doorway. A girl appeared in it a moment later. She was dressed in all black; a black dress, black leggings, and black shoes. Her skin was pale white—the same color James Potter's had been.

Severus's eyes went to her face, and his heart stopped. The teacup slipped from his hand, and hung in the air from his pointer finger. Hot tea spilled out onto the rug below.

The girl looked at him uneasily, then at Harry. "Harry, where were you? I looked through the entire manor!"

Harry smiled at her. In that moment, if Severus had been told that the boy was really the Dark Lord Voldemort, he would have laughed. That smile was too kind to belong to a killer.

"I was talking with my friend here," Harry said, nodding towards Severus. "This is Severus Snape, Iris. He's the Head of Slytherin House at Hogwarts, and the Potions professor."

"Oh." Iris raised her eyebrows at Severus, coming into the room. She scampered over to Harry. "Hello, it's nice to meet you," she said. She pointed at the rug beneath him. "You spilled your tea."

Harry pulled out a wand from his shirt's breast pocket, and waved it at Severus—he winced a little, remembering the torture—and the tea stains on the rug disappeared, the teacup righting itself in his hand. Severus put his palm underneath to stop it from flipping over again.

In the midst of all this chaos, a small voice said in Severus's mind: How is he using magic when he's not of age?

Because he's Voldemort, you dolt.

The girl, Iris, came around to Harry's front. Harry scooted over in the plush armchair, and Iris plopped down next to him. She grabbed his arm and leaned her head against it like it was a pillow.

She looked like her. She looked like a little Lily. Her hair was black, and her skin didn't have as much color, but she looked so much like her.

Iris caught him staring at her, and her smile wavered. She looked up at Harry uncomfortably.

Reality crashed back into Severus, and he quickly averted his gaze. He looked down at his tea, adjusting his grip on the cup awkwardly.

A low pain appeared in his stomach. Severus's eyes widened, and he looked at Harry. The boy was frowning at him, and now Severus could believe he really was the Dark Lord. That was what the Dark Lord looked like when he thought someone was pathetic, that someone didn't really deserve to live.

The pain built, until it sat at a level that was just below agonizing.

"We'll continue our discussion later," Harry said. His voice had lost its earlier cheer. "Meet me in Lucius's office in ten minutes, Severus."

The pain in his stomach flared. Severus nearly yelped. He clamped his eyes shut, and put his hand to his stomach.

"Okay, Severus?" Harry said.

"Yes," Severus whispered, nodding rapidly. It felt like someone was twisting a knife in his gut. "Yes, okay."

"Are… you okay, Mister Snape?" Iris asked. "You look very sick."

"He's fine," Harry said. His voice was an even tone, not wavering in pitch even slightly. "He's just recovering from a fever."

"Oh," Iris said. "Well, I hope you get better."

"Yes. Come, Iris, let's let Professor Snape finish his tea. He's had a very long day."

Severus opened his eyes and smiled at the siblings. That was what they were, brother and sister, the children of James and Lily. Except it was all wrong. Harry wasn't Harry, and Iris should not be anywhere near him, because he was a murderer, he was a monster and she needed to get away from him as soon as possible.

He almost said it. He almost screamed. But his voice would not rise. Because of the pain, and because of the contract. The damned contract, which Severus was now beholden to.

Harry got up, and Iris did as well, still holding his arm. She was staring at Harry, and there was a kind of adoring reverence that swam constantly behind her eyes.

She's not going to let go, Severus realized with growing horror.

They both left the living room. Harry gave a glance over his shoulder, looking at Severus one final time, and the pain in his stomach disappeared.

Severus was left taking deep breaths. Finally, the shame of what he'd done came over him. He'd helped Voldemort get here. It was his fault that Lily was dead, and it was his fault that her daughter was growing up with her family's killer. And now, only Merlin knew what other horrors "Harry Potter" was going to make him commit.

When Severus went to Malfoy's office, he found the Dark Lord and Lucius waiting for him. Lucius was sitting at his desk, and the Dark Lord—Harry—was leaning against that desk with his arms crossed.

Severus moved to close the door behind him, and as he did, it slipped out of his hands and slammed shut, as if pushed by a ghost. He jumped. His eyes darted to Lucius, and he saw the man nervously flexing his hands, eyes closed.

"Severus," Harry said. The room almost seemed to become darker. The boy was looking down on him, despite his height.

He knew why.

"My lord," Severus said, throat feeling dry, "I apologize. I didn't mean to stare at her like that. She resembles her mother greatly, and I was just surprised—"

"You don't need to look at her again," Harry said.

"Yes. Of course, my lord. My apologies."

He watched him squirm for a few more moments. Severus half-expected some more punishment; perhaps another stint in the dungeon? Maybe Bellatrix would get to have her fun after all.

Harry nodded to the seat next to him. "Sit down, Severus. We have some things to discuss."

Severus went and sat down in the chair. His stomach still felt squeamish from the pain earlier.

"I assume both of you have heard of the Chamber of Secrets?" Harry said.

Malfoy's brows furrowed. "I thought that was a myth, my lord."

"Oh, it's not a myth at all," Harry said, grinning. It was such an excited grin that he actually resembled the child he was pretending to be. "It's a very real place, and so is the basilisk inside it."