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My first Fanfic (Working Title, Aftermath)
The Aftermath - freewriting (alternate title: the full moon)
This is a first draft of a Harry Potter fanfic - the first in a projected series of four stories about Severus Snape. The major focus of the stories is the relationship between Snape and Dumbledore, and I was inspired by several others in this community, particularly Jodel and Swythyv. The story is about 4,000 words long and is set in the Potterverse in June, 1975. (note: since the changes to the dates on the lexicon, I may have to make it June, 1974 - but I prefer the original dates and ages, and can't understand why Rowling had to make everyone a year older!) It's basically PG except for one expletive which I may remove - this is only a first draft. The story follows the cut:
The old man sat quietly, waiting, while the boy set about destroying his office. A slight, dark boy who had known far too much of pain and loss. He’d always been a difficult child; headstrong, gifted and passionate; and right now he seemed intent on running straight into every trap the world might have set for him. He was taking his rage out on a chair, stamping on its rungs and cursing fluently The man, watching, asked himself whether he shouldn’t intervene. Better not to. Let the boy wear himself out, get through his anger and discover what lay on the other side of it. If an old man couldn’t wait out a teenager, what good was age?
Finally his patience was rewarded. The boy turned to him and said, “Why? Why won’t you expel them?” He was flushed and shaking, and his voice was hoarse.
“Expulsion is a grave matter. It may be necessary, but I will not resort to it unless I am sure ...”
“Sure?” the boy spat bitterly. “Do you think I’m lying? I don’t lie! They tried to kill me!”
“Severus, you must admit you were out of bounds after hours, and. . .”
“I done nought to them!” the boy shouted. “They set a werewolf on me!” And then, at last, he broke through his rage to the deeper emotions beneath it. He slumped down onto the couch near the wall and said again, “Why? Why do they want me dead?” Then he raised his fist to his mouth and bit at his knuckles. The man could tell he was trying hard not to cry, and he longed to comfort him. If Severus had been a few years younger, it might have been possible, but not now. He could not afford to humiliate this boy. So he turned away to give him privacy, and waited again.
After a few minutes, the headmaster judged it might be safe to approach. He sat quietly on the couch next to Severus and offered a handkerchief. The boy took it, equally wordlessly, and blew his nose. “Sorry,” he said, and then, rather grudgingly, “Thanks.”
“You’re quite welcome. You may keep it, if you like.”
The boy shook his head, and then said, “They call me Snivellus. I hate that.” His voice was still shaky, but he seemed calmer now.
“You are no coward, Severus,” the headmaster said.
“I know,” the boy answered simply, and then added, “They think I am. They never leave me alone.” His eyes strayed to the sorting hat, on a nearby shelf, and he said, “That thing wanted to put me in Gryffindor. “ He snorted contemptuously, and went on, “Can you imagine? It’s bad enough now. If I’d been in bloody Gryffindor, they would probably have managed to kill me by the end of the first year. Bastards!”
The headmaster sighed. There was nothing to say to that; right now, it did indeed seem probable. In any case, he was not going to incense the boy further by arguing with him. But there were things young Severus Snape needed to hear. He turned toward him and said, “Severus. Look at me. Look at me and listen.”
The boy turned his head and raised his chin so they were eye to eye. To the man, his expression seemed both apprehensive and defiant, and not at all receptive. But at least he was calm enough to hear, even if he didn’t fully understand. Albus Dumbledore said firmly, “I do not take what Sirius Black did lightly. He will be punished.“
“So. You will expel him, sir?”
“That remains to be seen. I have not yet spoken with him. But I can promise you that he will be punished. However, I must ask you to promise me something.”
“What?” The boy was definitely apprehensive now.
“You have said you are not a liar. I believe you; I believe you are at heart an honorable person. No honorable person would destroy another’s life for a fault they could not help. Remus Lupin. . .”
At that, Severus erupted again, though more quietly. “Him?” he said in a sort of soft howl, “ he was in on it; he was going to kill me; how can you have a bloody werewolf here; he’s a damn WEREWOLF. . .” He had leapt to his feet and was backing away; the old man got up, too, and reached out to hold the boy by his upper arms. A mistake; he should have remembered this youngster hated to be touched. He wrenched away, crying out, “Let go! Let go of me!”
Dumbledore dropped his arms by his sides and said, “I am sorry.”
That silenced the boy. He stood still, staring. The headmaster continued, “Severus, I do not wish to compel you. I am asking for your understanding. Think: if Remus had bitten you tonight, you would also be a werewolf. Would you deserve to be blamed for that?”
The boy’s mouth twisted as though he were tasting something bitter. “No,” he answered finally. He drew in a breath, and said very clearly, “I am not blaming him for being a werewolf.”
“Severus, if he conspired with Sirius to assault you, he will also be punished. I am not convinced he knew anything about it. Should he be punished if he is innocent?”
“Innocent?” Severus said incredulously, and snorted again, a brief burst of bitter laughter. “He is not innocent. It’s not possible. They’re friends. Do you really think, sir, that Black didn’t tell him?”
“You would not treat a friend that way.”
“No! Of course not. Do you think Black would?” Then Severus added, “Sir.”
Dumbledore sighed. He said heavily, “You and Sirius Black are very different people.”
Severus Snape stared, almost openmouthed. The headmaster watched his expression change, going swiftly from astonishment to disappointment to anger. “You think he didn’t tell him,” he said flatly. “You think he did that to Lupin - his friend - and you still won’t expel him.”
“Severus, I have already told you Sirius Black’s punishment is yet to be determined. We are speaking of Remus Lupin. I want your promise that you will tell no one of his condition.”
The boy stood, tense and still, looking at the floor. He had again raised his fist to his mouth. The headmaster waited. He could, of course, compel obedience; Severus Snape was a scholarship boy and his scholarship could be revoked. Besides, he could threaten to take points from Slytherin house for young Snape’s own infraction. But to put pressure on the boy would be enormously damaging. If only, Albus Dumbledore thought, Severus could forgive Lupin and the others freely. But the terror and hurt were too fresh for that, and in any case this boy did not have a forgiving nature. He desired justice for his enemies, not mercy.
As the headmaster watched, the boy looked up, straight into his eyes. That dark gaze was still angry, the brows drawn together in a frown. “And if I don’t promise?” he asked.
“You must,” was on the tip of Dumbledore’s tongue, but, by some mercy, he didn’t say it. Instead, he heard himself saying, “In return for your promise, I should like to give you something.”
“What, sir?”
“I should like you to take private lessons with me.”
“I don’t understand, sir,” Severus answered cautiously. “We’re nearly done with OWLs; what do you want to teach me? Would that even be fair?”
“You need not worry,” the headmaster replied. “This has nothing to do with your exams, and will not interfere with them in any way. I believe you are a natural occlumens, and may also have a gift for legilemency. The combination is rather rare. I should like to train you in those skills.”
“Why, sir?”
“Tell me, Severus. Do you ever hear from Lucius Malfoy?”
The boy frowned again, this time in bewilderment. “Lucius? No. Well, not recently. Why?”
“I believe you will hear from him when you leave school, if not sooner. It is possible he will try to recruit you for Lord Voldemort.”
“Sir,” Severus answered, his eyes bright with anger, “what makes you think Lucius would do that? Is he a Death Eater just because he was a prefect for Slytherin?”
“I am making no assumptions, Severus. I am merely exploring possibilities. We must be prepared for every eventuality.”
“And you think it is an eventuality that Lucius is a Death Eater? And that he’ll ask me to join them?”
Dumbledore answered, “I do not say it is likely. Indeed, I hope it may never happen. But it is a possibility. “
“Lucius Malfoy is not a Death Eater, sir,” the boy responded, “I’m sure of it. And even if he were, why would he try to recruit me?”
The headmaster’s lips twitched slightly. “Severus, you must surely be aware that you are an extraordinarily talented wizard. It would be remarkable if the Death Eaters did not try to recruit you.” The boy said nothing, and after a slight pause, the man continued, “If they do ask you to join them, it is death to refuse.”
“God! My God!” Severus responded. It was almost a whisper. He had begun pacing, and now raised both hands to his head. Dumbledore had noticed that, bright and articulate though the boy was, he seemed to think with those hands. Now he stopped, faced the man, and dropped his hands so that they were shoulder height, palms up as if in supplication. “You mean sir - (one fist clenched and lowered ) what you’re saying (he gripped his fist with his other hand) - are you saying I have to become a Death Eater, or die?”
“There may be a third way,” the man answered
“Oh, yes,” the boy said, “I could become a Death Eater and die as well; get killed by the Aurors. That works, too.” He was smiling as he said it, a twisted, bitter smile, but his eyes looked troubled.
“I did not mean that,” Dumbledore said.
“Then - what did you mean, sir?”
“I need spies among them, and I believe you would make an exceptional spy. If they do approach you, I should like you to accept their offer and infiltrate them on my behalf.”
“You’re - that’s insane! It’s fucking insane; you’re out of your mind.” Then, hearing what he had said, the boy flushed scarlet and stammered, “I’m sorry, sir, I didn’t mean - but you’re joking, aren’t you? You can’t possibly be serious.”
“Unfortunately, I am serious. It is a hard thing to ask of you, I know, but I believe you may have the courage, discipline and intelligence to carry it off. Will you consider it?”
Severus had begun pacing again. When he reached the couch, he collapsed onto it, his hands again at his temples. The headmaster looked at him worriedly. He had been trying to appeal to the boy’s pride and his longing for knowledge and power, exactly the characteristics Voldemort would spot and try to use against him. Had it been too much? And too soon? But Voldemort did not hesitate to ensnare children; boys and girls of seventeen were useful tools for him. In a year or so, this boy would be old enough to be of interest. The best defense for him was to get him firmly in the opposing camp as soon as possible. “Severus,” Dumbledore said gently, “there is no need to decide now. I merely ask you to consider what I have said.”
Young Snape looked up. “Aye," he said hoarsely.
“I beg your pardon?”
“I’ll do it."
Dumbledore should have felt relieved;why didn’t he? Of course the boy could not fully understand what he was promising. But he was quite bright enough to imagine the dangers; then why had he agreed so quickly? “Severus,” he said, “you must not think you will be able to rescue Lucius. That is not your responsibility.”
The boy glared at him, his mouth a straight line and his brows lowered. “Then whose responsibility is it? If he is my friend, he is my responsibility.”
“Of course,” the headmaster said, “ Of course you are right. But Lucius is an adult, and his decisions are his own. Do you understand me?”
The boy said nothing, and the man sighed. “Well,” he said, “it is very late, but I do not think either of us is likely to sleep soon. We may as well begin. Tell me, Severus, has Professor Flitwick taught you the patronus charm?”
“No. Not yet. That’s NEWT level, isn’t it?”
“Very well. Stand up and take out your wand; the incantation is Expecto Patronum.”
“Expecto Patronum,” Snape repeated.
“Good. Now I want you to think of a happy memory. Have you selected one?”
The boy nodded. “Good,” the man said again. “Focus on that memory; visualize it as clearly and completely as you can.” After a slight pause, Dumbledore asked, “Can you see it?”
“Yes,” Severus answered. The headmaster saw that the boy was standing straight and relaxed, in contrast to his usual hunched, defensive posture. His wand arm was hanging loosely by his side, and his eyes were closed. “Excellent,” Dumbledore said. “Now raise your wand and speak the incantation, all the while focusing on your memory.”
“Expecto Patronum,” the boy said, and raised his wand to chest height. His eyes were still closed. A silver mist shot from the point of his wand and coalesced. The man, watching, saw a hawk’s head, startlingly like the boy’s narrow face; a predator’s beak, and broad wings. An eagle? But no, the beast’s hindquarters were a great cat’s, with muscular, clawed legs and a tufted tail. Dumbledore saw that the boy next to him had opened his eyes and was staring, slightly openmouthed. As the beast reached the door, it turned and looked at the boy with a soft, mewing cry that echoed Severus’s “What?” Then the Patronus dissolved into mist again and vanished.
Severus swallowed and turned to the headmaster. “What - what was that?”
Dumbledore smiled at him. “Your Patronus. A griffin. I am most impressed.”
“A griffin?”
“Yes. Tell me, Severus,” Dumbledore continued, “whom do you imagine as your protector?”
“No one. I protect myself.”
“I see. And, if I may ask, what was the memory?”
"My first trip to Diagon Alley, with Mam.” The boy smiled, but it was that twisted, bitter smile Dumbledore had almost come to expect from him, with no real happiness in it. "I thought everything would change then. I would fit, and everything would be wonderful. Ha!" His expression mocked the naive optimism of the small boy he had been. But then he continued softly, "It was a good day, though. It really was."
"I see," the man responded, and once more he longed to touch the boy, to comfort him somehow. But he knew it was impossible. Severus would see any such attempt as either mockery or aggression. So he went on, "That was your first lesson. A Patronus is a particularly secure means of communication, and I wanted to be certain you could produce one. I should like you to practice the charm when you are able, but only in private."
"Yes, sir."
"Now, I believe you still have exams in Astronomy and the History of Magic. Is that correct?"
"Yes, sir."
"But you should be finished by the end of the week?" The boy nodded. "I will contact you to let you know when to come for your second lesson. But, Severus, if we are to continue, I must have your promise."
"My promise?"
"Yes," the headmaster said firmly, "I want your promise that Remus Lupin will not be made to suffer for what has happened tonight. You must not tell anyone of his condition."
Young Snape looked furious. His lips were pressed firmly together and his dark eyes were burning; his shoulders had again gone tense. But, after a moment’s pause, he spoke clearly. "Very well. I promise I will tell nobody about Remus Lupin’s condition." The scorn in his voice was almost tangible. Even so, Dumbledore had no doubt he would keep his word. As the boy himself had said - almost boasted - he was basically honest. He made few promises and tended to keep those he did make. And it was the action that mattered for now. Perhaps understanding would come later.
"Thank you," the man responded gravely. "I must also ask you to keep these lessons entirely private." That startled Severus out of his anger, at least for the moment. He glanced swiftly up at Dumbledore and answered, "Well, of course, sir. Of course I will."
"Thank you," Dumbledore said again. He took out pen and parchment and wrote a short note, handing it to the boy. "This gives you my permission to be out in the halls after hours. Please go straight back to your dormitory. I will be in touch with you as soon as you finish your exams. Good night."
It was a dismissal, but the boy hesitated, apparently on the verge of saying something. He still looked angry and troubled. Acting on one of those impulses that sometimes struck him as wisdom, Dumbledore spoke again. "You did very well tonight, Severus. I am proud of you."
"Thank you, sir. Good night," Severus answered. Then, at last, he turned to leave. The man watched him go, swift and angular, hunched a little over the note he held in his left hand. He still had his wand in his right, and the headmaster half smiled, imagining him casting patronuses down the empty corridors. Not that Severus was likely to be so incautious, but the awe and delight on the boy’s face when he saw his griffin had been a joy to witness. If only he looked like that more often! He was normally so closed, coiled tight around his rage and guarding it like a snake guarding venom. And the boy was still so young - in a way, so innocent - that he did not realize how vulnerable that carefully treasured anger made him. He might be brave and intelligent; he might mean well, but he was still an easy target for Voldemort as long as he hugged his anger to himself and rejected all thought of forgiveness. Tonight had been a first step, but Dumbledore felt a premonition that Severus Snape had a long and difficult road ahead of him. "Still," he murmured, "I feel surer of him than of Sirius Black."
The old man sat down at his desk, pulling out another piece of parchment. It was past midnight, and anyone observing him would have thought him exhausted, but he was far from wanting to sleep. He needed to think what he was going to do about young Sirius Black. Severus Snape was right: what Black had done merited expulsion. Not just because he had put Severus’s life in danger - no, that was bad enough, but the betrayal of Remus Lupin was utterly inexcusable. Had Sirius so little imagination? So little understanding of what the consequences to Remus would have been, had Severus been injured or killed? At best, Remus - a quiet, gentle boy who deliberately harmed no one - would have spent the rest of his life in Azkaban. And his life there would have been miserable and short. How could Sirius have endangered Remus so callously? "He does deserve to be expelled," Dumbledore thought, "but, if I expel him, he will be easy prey indeed. Voldemort will have him - if, indeed, he does not have him already. I need him here, under my eye, where I may be able to influence him."
Of course, he could not explain this to Severus. As for young Sirius, he was convinced of his own virtue, and tormented Severus mercilessly in part because he saw him as a budding dark wizard. Nothing could be further from the truth. Though Severus was all too ready to lash out with hexes, or even his fists, Dumbledore had noticed he usually did so in self-defense, or in defense of younger Slytherins. In fact, though the boys had been at odds almost from the moment they first saw each other, the headmaster suspected Sirius’s real loathing of Severus dated from the time Severus had defended Sirius’s small brother Regulus from Sirius and his gang. True, Severus was much too ruled by anger; true, he was proud and touchy. But he lacked the arrogance that led straight into darkness. He did not see people as tools; no, he was willing to risk his life to rescue Lucius Malfoy, who had once been kind to him. And Remus Lupin was easily worth ten of Malfoy. Nothing Severus had yet done, even when he was the aggressor, was as evil as what Sirius Black had done tonight.
Dumbledore sighed and looked down at his parchment. He had covered it with rough drawings. There was the griffin, its beak open in a cry. Sirius Black, for some reason, appeared as a big, rough - coated dog, almost a wolf, but Remus Lupin was sketched as a human boy, with a soft oval face and untidy hair. There was James Potter next to him, a bit bigger and more mature looking, with dark hair sticking up in the back and glasses. James had a tinge of that dangerous arrogance, but he had done a fine thing tonight in pulling Severus away from Remus; Dumbledore was fairly sure both James and Remus were safe from Voldemort. He seemed to have left out little Peter Pettigrew - why was it so easy to overlook that boy? Dumbledore felt no one should be overlooked. But he had sketched a small lily of the valley at the bottom of the parchment. Why? Was he thinking of Lily Evans? She was a good girl, and could surely be a positive influence on these boys. He thought both Severus and James were interested in her, and perhaps Peter was as well. There was a little rodent - perhaps a mouse ? - next to the lily of the valley and a full moon in the opposite corner.
Standing up, the headmaster rolled up the parchment. It was time for bed, after all; he would sleep on the problem. Six children, rapidly approaching adulthood in a dangerous time. All, even the insignificant - seeming Pettigrew, were quite talented; all seemed somehow bound together in a single pattern. What was that pattern? Dumbledore was convinced that, if all six could knowingly choose the good and work against Voldemort, the Dark Lord would be defeated. It was not a rational belief, perhaps, but he was convinced it was right. Severus had just taken the first step on that path, and so, perhaps, had James. Dumbledore had little doubt they both would continue as they had begun. Oh, they might stumble; they might make mistakes, even serious ones, but they both had courage and resolve enough to find their way back to the right road. Lily - Lily was not a problem. Goodness shone in and through that girl like sunlight through a stained glass window. Peter was an enigma, and so, oddly, was Remus. The boy had a good heart; he would not knowingly do evil, but he was passive. Would he actively work for the good? And Sirius Black -
Dumbledore tapped the rolled parchment on his desk, then slid it into his pocket. He must speak with Sirius Black first thing tomorrow morning. And he was not looking forward to that conversation. One of these youngsters was the center of the pattern, the hinge. But which one? Lily, who seemed the best and wisest of them, or Severus, as he suspected, or one of the other boys? He hoped it was not Sirius. Of all of them, he seemed the most prone to evil, and the most difficult to approach. He still didn’t know quite what he was going to say to Sirius Black.
Mary Johnson
January/February 2006
All characters and settings are
the intellectual property of
J.K. Rowling, without whose work
this story would not exist.
This is a first draft of a Harry Potter fanfic - the first in a projected series of four stories about Severus Snape. The major focus of the stories is the relationship between Snape and Dumbledore, and I was inspired by several others in this community, particularly Jodel and Swythyv. The story is about 4,000 words long and is set in the Potterverse in June, 1975. (note: since the changes to the dates on the lexicon, I may have to make it June, 1974 - but I prefer the original dates and ages, and can't understand why Rowling had to make everyone a year older!) It's basically PG except for one expletive which I may remove - this is only a first draft. The story follows the cut:
The old man sat quietly, waiting, while the boy set about destroying his office. A slight, dark boy who had known far too much of pain and loss. He’d always been a difficult child; headstrong, gifted and passionate; and right now he seemed intent on running straight into every trap the world might have set for him. He was taking his rage out on a chair, stamping on its rungs and cursing fluently The man, watching, asked himself whether he shouldn’t intervene. Better not to. Let the boy wear himself out, get through his anger and discover what lay on the other side of it. If an old man couldn’t wait out a teenager, what good was age?
Finally his patience was rewarded. The boy turned to him and said, “Why? Why won’t you expel them?” He was flushed and shaking, and his voice was hoarse.
“Expulsion is a grave matter. It may be necessary, but I will not resort to it unless I am sure ...”
“Sure?” the boy spat bitterly. “Do you think I’m lying? I don’t lie! They tried to kill me!”
“Severus, you must admit you were out of bounds after hours, and. . .”
“I done nought to them!” the boy shouted. “They set a werewolf on me!” And then, at last, he broke through his rage to the deeper emotions beneath it. He slumped down onto the couch near the wall and said again, “Why? Why do they want me dead?” Then he raised his fist to his mouth and bit at his knuckles. The man could tell he was trying hard not to cry, and he longed to comfort him. If Severus had been a few years younger, it might have been possible, but not now. He could not afford to humiliate this boy. So he turned away to give him privacy, and waited again.
After a few minutes, the headmaster judged it might be safe to approach. He sat quietly on the couch next to Severus and offered a handkerchief. The boy took it, equally wordlessly, and blew his nose. “Sorry,” he said, and then, rather grudgingly, “Thanks.”
“You’re quite welcome. You may keep it, if you like.”
The boy shook his head, and then said, “They call me Snivellus. I hate that.” His voice was still shaky, but he seemed calmer now.
“You are no coward, Severus,” the headmaster said.
“I know,” the boy answered simply, and then added, “They think I am. They never leave me alone.” His eyes strayed to the sorting hat, on a nearby shelf, and he said, “That thing wanted to put me in Gryffindor. “ He snorted contemptuously, and went on, “Can you imagine? It’s bad enough now. If I’d been in bloody Gryffindor, they would probably have managed to kill me by the end of the first year. Bastards!”
The headmaster sighed. There was nothing to say to that; right now, it did indeed seem probable. In any case, he was not going to incense the boy further by arguing with him. But there were things young Severus Snape needed to hear. He turned toward him and said, “Severus. Look at me. Look at me and listen.”
The boy turned his head and raised his chin so they were eye to eye. To the man, his expression seemed both apprehensive and defiant, and not at all receptive. But at least he was calm enough to hear, even if he didn’t fully understand. Albus Dumbledore said firmly, “I do not take what Sirius Black did lightly. He will be punished.“
“So. You will expel him, sir?”
“That remains to be seen. I have not yet spoken with him. But I can promise you that he will be punished. However, I must ask you to promise me something.”
“What?” The boy was definitely apprehensive now.
“You have said you are not a liar. I believe you; I believe you are at heart an honorable person. No honorable person would destroy another’s life for a fault they could not help. Remus Lupin. . .”
At that, Severus erupted again, though more quietly. “Him?” he said in a sort of soft howl, “ he was in on it; he was going to kill me; how can you have a bloody werewolf here; he’s a damn WEREWOLF. . .” He had leapt to his feet and was backing away; the old man got up, too, and reached out to hold the boy by his upper arms. A mistake; he should have remembered this youngster hated to be touched. He wrenched away, crying out, “Let go! Let go of me!”
Dumbledore dropped his arms by his sides and said, “I am sorry.”
That silenced the boy. He stood still, staring. The headmaster continued, “Severus, I do not wish to compel you. I am asking for your understanding. Think: if Remus had bitten you tonight, you would also be a werewolf. Would you deserve to be blamed for that?”
The boy’s mouth twisted as though he were tasting something bitter. “No,” he answered finally. He drew in a breath, and said very clearly, “I am not blaming him for being a werewolf.”
“Severus, if he conspired with Sirius to assault you, he will also be punished. I am not convinced he knew anything about it. Should he be punished if he is innocent?”
“Innocent?” Severus said incredulously, and snorted again, a brief burst of bitter laughter. “He is not innocent. It’s not possible. They’re friends. Do you really think, sir, that Black didn’t tell him?”
“You would not treat a friend that way.”
“No! Of course not. Do you think Black would?” Then Severus added, “Sir.”
Dumbledore sighed. He said heavily, “You and Sirius Black are very different people.”
Severus Snape stared, almost openmouthed. The headmaster watched his expression change, going swiftly from astonishment to disappointment to anger. “You think he didn’t tell him,” he said flatly. “You think he did that to Lupin - his friend - and you still won’t expel him.”
“Severus, I have already told you Sirius Black’s punishment is yet to be determined. We are speaking of Remus Lupin. I want your promise that you will tell no one of his condition.”
The boy stood, tense and still, looking at the floor. He had again raised his fist to his mouth. The headmaster waited. He could, of course, compel obedience; Severus Snape was a scholarship boy and his scholarship could be revoked. Besides, he could threaten to take points from Slytherin house for young Snape’s own infraction. But to put pressure on the boy would be enormously damaging. If only, Albus Dumbledore thought, Severus could forgive Lupin and the others freely. But the terror and hurt were too fresh for that, and in any case this boy did not have a forgiving nature. He desired justice for his enemies, not mercy.
As the headmaster watched, the boy looked up, straight into his eyes. That dark gaze was still angry, the brows drawn together in a frown. “And if I don’t promise?” he asked.
“You must,” was on the tip of Dumbledore’s tongue, but, by some mercy, he didn’t say it. Instead, he heard himself saying, “In return for your promise, I should like to give you something.”
“What, sir?”
“I should like you to take private lessons with me.”
“I don’t understand, sir,” Severus answered cautiously. “We’re nearly done with OWLs; what do you want to teach me? Would that even be fair?”
“You need not worry,” the headmaster replied. “This has nothing to do with your exams, and will not interfere with them in any way. I believe you are a natural occlumens, and may also have a gift for legilemency. The combination is rather rare. I should like to train you in those skills.”
“Why, sir?”
“Tell me, Severus. Do you ever hear from Lucius Malfoy?”
The boy frowned again, this time in bewilderment. “Lucius? No. Well, not recently. Why?”
“I believe you will hear from him when you leave school, if not sooner. It is possible he will try to recruit you for Lord Voldemort.”
“Sir,” Severus answered, his eyes bright with anger, “what makes you think Lucius would do that? Is he a Death Eater just because he was a prefect for Slytherin?”
“I am making no assumptions, Severus. I am merely exploring possibilities. We must be prepared for every eventuality.”
“And you think it is an eventuality that Lucius is a Death Eater? And that he’ll ask me to join them?”
Dumbledore answered, “I do not say it is likely. Indeed, I hope it may never happen. But it is a possibility. “
“Lucius Malfoy is not a Death Eater, sir,” the boy responded, “I’m sure of it. And even if he were, why would he try to recruit me?”
The headmaster’s lips twitched slightly. “Severus, you must surely be aware that you are an extraordinarily talented wizard. It would be remarkable if the Death Eaters did not try to recruit you.” The boy said nothing, and after a slight pause, the man continued, “If they do ask you to join them, it is death to refuse.”
“God! My God!” Severus responded. It was almost a whisper. He had begun pacing, and now raised both hands to his head. Dumbledore had noticed that, bright and articulate though the boy was, he seemed to think with those hands. Now he stopped, faced the man, and dropped his hands so that they were shoulder height, palms up as if in supplication. “You mean sir - (one fist clenched and lowered ) what you’re saying (he gripped his fist with his other hand) - are you saying I have to become a Death Eater, or die?”
“There may be a third way,” the man answered
“Oh, yes,” the boy said, “I could become a Death Eater and die as well; get killed by the Aurors. That works, too.” He was smiling as he said it, a twisted, bitter smile, but his eyes looked troubled.
“I did not mean that,” Dumbledore said.
“Then - what did you mean, sir?”
“I need spies among them, and I believe you would make an exceptional spy. If they do approach you, I should like you to accept their offer and infiltrate them on my behalf.”
“You’re - that’s insane! It’s fucking insane; you’re out of your mind.” Then, hearing what he had said, the boy flushed scarlet and stammered, “I’m sorry, sir, I didn’t mean - but you’re joking, aren’t you? You can’t possibly be serious.”
“Unfortunately, I am serious. It is a hard thing to ask of you, I know, but I believe you may have the courage, discipline and intelligence to carry it off. Will you consider it?”
Severus had begun pacing again. When he reached the couch, he collapsed onto it, his hands again at his temples. The headmaster looked at him worriedly. He had been trying to appeal to the boy’s pride and his longing for knowledge and power, exactly the characteristics Voldemort would spot and try to use against him. Had it been too much? And too soon? But Voldemort did not hesitate to ensnare children; boys and girls of seventeen were useful tools for him. In a year or so, this boy would be old enough to be of interest. The best defense for him was to get him firmly in the opposing camp as soon as possible. “Severus,” Dumbledore said gently, “there is no need to decide now. I merely ask you to consider what I have said.”
Young Snape looked up. “Aye," he said hoarsely.
“I beg your pardon?”
“I’ll do it."
Dumbledore should have felt relieved;why didn’t he? Of course the boy could not fully understand what he was promising. But he was quite bright enough to imagine the dangers; then why had he agreed so quickly? “Severus,” he said, “you must not think you will be able to rescue Lucius. That is not your responsibility.”
The boy glared at him, his mouth a straight line and his brows lowered. “Then whose responsibility is it? If he is my friend, he is my responsibility.”
“Of course,” the headmaster said, “ Of course you are right. But Lucius is an adult, and his decisions are his own. Do you understand me?”
The boy said nothing, and the man sighed. “Well,” he said, “it is very late, but I do not think either of us is likely to sleep soon. We may as well begin. Tell me, Severus, has Professor Flitwick taught you the patronus charm?”
“No. Not yet. That’s NEWT level, isn’t it?”
“Very well. Stand up and take out your wand; the incantation is Expecto Patronum.”
“Expecto Patronum,” Snape repeated.
“Good. Now I want you to think of a happy memory. Have you selected one?”
The boy nodded. “Good,” the man said again. “Focus on that memory; visualize it as clearly and completely as you can.” After a slight pause, Dumbledore asked, “Can you see it?”
“Yes,” Severus answered. The headmaster saw that the boy was standing straight and relaxed, in contrast to his usual hunched, defensive posture. His wand arm was hanging loosely by his side, and his eyes were closed. “Excellent,” Dumbledore said. “Now raise your wand and speak the incantation, all the while focusing on your memory.”
“Expecto Patronum,” the boy said, and raised his wand to chest height. His eyes were still closed. A silver mist shot from the point of his wand and coalesced. The man, watching, saw a hawk’s head, startlingly like the boy’s narrow face; a predator’s beak, and broad wings. An eagle? But no, the beast’s hindquarters were a great cat’s, with muscular, clawed legs and a tufted tail. Dumbledore saw that the boy next to him had opened his eyes and was staring, slightly openmouthed. As the beast reached the door, it turned and looked at the boy with a soft, mewing cry that echoed Severus’s “What?” Then the Patronus dissolved into mist again and vanished.
Severus swallowed and turned to the headmaster. “What - what was that?”
Dumbledore smiled at him. “Your Patronus. A griffin. I am most impressed.”
“A griffin?”
“Yes. Tell me, Severus,” Dumbledore continued, “whom do you imagine as your protector?”
“No one. I protect myself.”
“I see. And, if I may ask, what was the memory?”
"My first trip to Diagon Alley, with Mam.” The boy smiled, but it was that twisted, bitter smile Dumbledore had almost come to expect from him, with no real happiness in it. "I thought everything would change then. I would fit, and everything would be wonderful. Ha!" His expression mocked the naive optimism of the small boy he had been. But then he continued softly, "It was a good day, though. It really was."
"I see," the man responded, and once more he longed to touch the boy, to comfort him somehow. But he knew it was impossible. Severus would see any such attempt as either mockery or aggression. So he went on, "That was your first lesson. A Patronus is a particularly secure means of communication, and I wanted to be certain you could produce one. I should like you to practice the charm when you are able, but only in private."
"Yes, sir."
"Now, I believe you still have exams in Astronomy and the History of Magic. Is that correct?"
"Yes, sir."
"But you should be finished by the end of the week?" The boy nodded. "I will contact you to let you know when to come for your second lesson. But, Severus, if we are to continue, I must have your promise."
"My promise?"
"Yes," the headmaster said firmly, "I want your promise that Remus Lupin will not be made to suffer for what has happened tonight. You must not tell anyone of his condition."
Young Snape looked furious. His lips were pressed firmly together and his dark eyes were burning; his shoulders had again gone tense. But, after a moment’s pause, he spoke clearly. "Very well. I promise I will tell nobody about Remus Lupin’s condition." The scorn in his voice was almost tangible. Even so, Dumbledore had no doubt he would keep his word. As the boy himself had said - almost boasted - he was basically honest. He made few promises and tended to keep those he did make. And it was the action that mattered for now. Perhaps understanding would come later.
"Thank you," the man responded gravely. "I must also ask you to keep these lessons entirely private." That startled Severus out of his anger, at least for the moment. He glanced swiftly up at Dumbledore and answered, "Well, of course, sir. Of course I will."
"Thank you," Dumbledore said again. He took out pen and parchment and wrote a short note, handing it to the boy. "This gives you my permission to be out in the halls after hours. Please go straight back to your dormitory. I will be in touch with you as soon as you finish your exams. Good night."
It was a dismissal, but the boy hesitated, apparently on the verge of saying something. He still looked angry and troubled. Acting on one of those impulses that sometimes struck him as wisdom, Dumbledore spoke again. "You did very well tonight, Severus. I am proud of you."
"Thank you, sir. Good night," Severus answered. Then, at last, he turned to leave. The man watched him go, swift and angular, hunched a little over the note he held in his left hand. He still had his wand in his right, and the headmaster half smiled, imagining him casting patronuses down the empty corridors. Not that Severus was likely to be so incautious, but the awe and delight on the boy’s face when he saw his griffin had been a joy to witness. If only he looked like that more often! He was normally so closed, coiled tight around his rage and guarding it like a snake guarding venom. And the boy was still so young - in a way, so innocent - that he did not realize how vulnerable that carefully treasured anger made him. He might be brave and intelligent; he might mean well, but he was still an easy target for Voldemort as long as he hugged his anger to himself and rejected all thought of forgiveness. Tonight had been a first step, but Dumbledore felt a premonition that Severus Snape had a long and difficult road ahead of him. "Still," he murmured, "I feel surer of him than of Sirius Black."
The old man sat down at his desk, pulling out another piece of parchment. It was past midnight, and anyone observing him would have thought him exhausted, but he was far from wanting to sleep. He needed to think what he was going to do about young Sirius Black. Severus Snape was right: what Black had done merited expulsion. Not just because he had put Severus’s life in danger - no, that was bad enough, but the betrayal of Remus Lupin was utterly inexcusable. Had Sirius so little imagination? So little understanding of what the consequences to Remus would have been, had Severus been injured or killed? At best, Remus - a quiet, gentle boy who deliberately harmed no one - would have spent the rest of his life in Azkaban. And his life there would have been miserable and short. How could Sirius have endangered Remus so callously? "He does deserve to be expelled," Dumbledore thought, "but, if I expel him, he will be easy prey indeed. Voldemort will have him - if, indeed, he does not have him already. I need him here, under my eye, where I may be able to influence him."
Of course, he could not explain this to Severus. As for young Sirius, he was convinced of his own virtue, and tormented Severus mercilessly in part because he saw him as a budding dark wizard. Nothing could be further from the truth. Though Severus was all too ready to lash out with hexes, or even his fists, Dumbledore had noticed he usually did so in self-defense, or in defense of younger Slytherins. In fact, though the boys had been at odds almost from the moment they first saw each other, the headmaster suspected Sirius’s real loathing of Severus dated from the time Severus had defended Sirius’s small brother Regulus from Sirius and his gang. True, Severus was much too ruled by anger; true, he was proud and touchy. But he lacked the arrogance that led straight into darkness. He did not see people as tools; no, he was willing to risk his life to rescue Lucius Malfoy, who had once been kind to him. And Remus Lupin was easily worth ten of Malfoy. Nothing Severus had yet done, even when he was the aggressor, was as evil as what Sirius Black had done tonight.
Dumbledore sighed and looked down at his parchment. He had covered it with rough drawings. There was the griffin, its beak open in a cry. Sirius Black, for some reason, appeared as a big, rough - coated dog, almost a wolf, but Remus Lupin was sketched as a human boy, with a soft oval face and untidy hair. There was James Potter next to him, a bit bigger and more mature looking, with dark hair sticking up in the back and glasses. James had a tinge of that dangerous arrogance, but he had done a fine thing tonight in pulling Severus away from Remus; Dumbledore was fairly sure both James and Remus were safe from Voldemort. He seemed to have left out little Peter Pettigrew - why was it so easy to overlook that boy? Dumbledore felt no one should be overlooked. But he had sketched a small lily of the valley at the bottom of the parchment. Why? Was he thinking of Lily Evans? She was a good girl, and could surely be a positive influence on these boys. He thought both Severus and James were interested in her, and perhaps Peter was as well. There was a little rodent - perhaps a mouse ? - next to the lily of the valley and a full moon in the opposite corner.
Standing up, the headmaster rolled up the parchment. It was time for bed, after all; he would sleep on the problem. Six children, rapidly approaching adulthood in a dangerous time. All, even the insignificant - seeming Pettigrew, were quite talented; all seemed somehow bound together in a single pattern. What was that pattern? Dumbledore was convinced that, if all six could knowingly choose the good and work against Voldemort, the Dark Lord would be defeated. It was not a rational belief, perhaps, but he was convinced it was right. Severus had just taken the first step on that path, and so, perhaps, had James. Dumbledore had little doubt they both would continue as they had begun. Oh, they might stumble; they might make mistakes, even serious ones, but they both had courage and resolve enough to find their way back to the right road. Lily - Lily was not a problem. Goodness shone in and through that girl like sunlight through a stained glass window. Peter was an enigma, and so, oddly, was Remus. The boy had a good heart; he would not knowingly do evil, but he was passive. Would he actively work for the good? And Sirius Black -
Dumbledore tapped the rolled parchment on his desk, then slid it into his pocket. He must speak with Sirius Black first thing tomorrow morning. And he was not looking forward to that conversation. One of these youngsters was the center of the pattern, the hinge. But which one? Lily, who seemed the best and wisest of them, or Severus, as he suspected, or one of the other boys? He hoped it was not Sirius. Of all of them, he seemed the most prone to evil, and the most difficult to approach. He still didn’t know quite what he was going to say to Sirius Black.
Mary Johnson
January/February 2006
All characters and settings are
the intellectual property of
J.K. Rowling, without whose work
this story would not exist.
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Plus you mentioned Regulus as a friend of Severus and his protective nature, and the conflict between his loyalty to Lucius and Dumbledore, which I expect to be addressed, somehow, in book 7. And I think you captured Dumbledore to a T.
Have you pimped this in a community?
Thanks!
No, I haven't pimped this anywhere - I don't even know what that term means, being new to blogging. Might you tell me how I could go about it?
Thanks!
Mary
Re: Thanks!
That should bring in some interested audience. :)
Re: Thanks!
Re: Thanks!
Concrit per request
Second, in this sentence, as in others, you want "That works, too." *SPACE* (delete the extra period) He was smiling.I THINK canon is Professor Flitwick and Patronus...Again, after the "Ha!" put a space.
You might want
I love how you're melding the spy/attempted murder/difficult childhood for Severus thing here. That's something I'm struggling with making realistic in my own fic so it's nice to see someone else trying to work it too.
As an aside, I have a rather firm opinion that Snape's Patronus was a King Cobra (
Also, yeah. Sirius? WTF, O...even 15 years later, he says "Snape deserved it"...and happily would've used his *best friend* as a *murder weapon* against *another child*?!?! That is really just...not right.
Re: Concrit per request
In fact, the headmaster suspected Sirius’s real loathing of Severus dated from the time Severus had defended Sirius’s small brother Regulus from Sirius and his gang.
"I think in PoA, Sirius & Remus state that Snape & Sirius were at each other's throats from the word "go", and Regulus didn't come until at least a year later. Also, if my speculation is correct, someone had already hexed Snape's broom on what was probably close to his first flying lesson; assuming that the curriculum was the same, this should have been early first year."
Yes - you're right, they were, and I'm positive they hexed his broom early in first year, and probably started the hostilities, since I am of the opinion that James is to Draco as Harry is to Severus. But this is Dumbledore's point of view, and, although I think he knew they pretty much hated each other's guts from the word 'go', I also think, from his pov, it didn't get absolutely vicious until Sirius saw and objected to Severus's influence on his brother. I'm not sure Dumbledore knew, *at that point* about the broom hexing or any of the rest of it. He knew *later*, when he'd taught Snape a bit - but not necessarily right then, if you see what I mean?
"As an aside, I have a rather firm opinion that Snape's Patronus was a King Cobra ([info]accioslash rather quickly convinced me that it's NOW a Phoenix...!) *wink* Although I must say I like the Griffin better than the typical Raven, Spider or Bat. (*gag*)"
Yes, I know we don't agree on this - I read and enjoyed your 'after the war' story. But, though it did take me awhile to come round to this opinion, I have reasons for the griffin, one of them being that I believe Snape is the heir of Gryffindor. In any case, the king cobra and the griffin are very similar animals, since both are loners, predators, and guardians of treasure (thinking of "The Jungle Book" here - "The King's Ankus")
Another q - are you quite sure the possessive of Severus is just Severus', not Severus's? I was going by Strunk and White, who are my grammar/punctuation bible.
All the stuff on the quotes - yes, I noticed, and it bothered me. I do not use word unless I'm required to - did these in Appleworks - so I don't quite know what's up, but I'll try to see if Appleworks has something similar, and then correct it.
I'm afraid the rest was just typos, and middle- aged eyes, and I will fix!
Re: Concrit per request
Onto the story: :)
I see what you mean about Snape vs Marauders. Maybe a slight restatement of that in Dumbledore's recollection? I.e. - "He knew they hated each other from first sight but it really got vicious when..." or somesuch.
OMG Patronus - hahaha, I wasn't telling you to change it, although...yeah, I probably didn't do a good job of expressing that. :P
What I'm finding so amazing is that there are SO MANY similarities in the conclusions you and I came to *entirely independently*...especially as these do not appear to be widely held conclusions. I mean, I have a HUGE WIP on my flash drive, sitting at 322 pages. I've posted an excerpt as a stand-alone fic ("A Girl & Her Cat") because it can stand independently, and a couple of paragraphs a few months back to generally bitch about writing, but apart from that, nothing has seen anyone else's eyes, and I had every intention of keeping it that way until I sent it off to be beta'd.
Reading your stories has made me QUITE SERIOUSLY consider posting the relevant excerpts, *simply because* they are so amazingly similar in some respects, regarding plotline, as to be beyond reason. And it's not like you "stole my ideas", because you DIDN'T BLOODY SEE THEM, and having just heard of you day before yesterday, I didn't steal yours either, but there we are, with damned near the same story to tell. :P And I'm *really enjoying* that, because it's just neat.
But keep the Griffin! I *like* the Griffin, I was just pointing out a random (and poorly stated) differing opinion, of which we apparently have VERY FEW. :P
Heir of Gryffindor! OMGHAHAHAHA that would be great!!! Jo's basically shot down the Harry as the Heir bit, though she encourages people to look into Dumbledore's. But I don't see him being the Heir for some reason, although it occurs to me maybe he's the heir of Merlin? :P Snape as Gryffindor, OMG that'd be *great*!
Did I tell you I think that Snape is related to Everard (one of Hogwarts' most popular ex-headmasters?)
Regarding the possesives - No, I'm not at all sure, and by all means, go with S&W, which, I'm ashamed to say, I don't even own a copy of.
I didn't know that Appleworks did the same thing as Word, but it's good to know that. I personally *prefer* the look of the smart-quotes in a printed document, but online...you just really can't use 'em. And I totally have to turn mine off, too, in my WIP. They are, unfortunately, not as "smart" as they're supposed to be. :)
Typos happen, and that's why you have betas. ;)
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