So It Goes On

Chapter 16: Mid November 1998

Vampires in the Forest

Mid November 1998

Albus Dumbledore had always held his own 'court' with the same two people in his office for years; Minerva McGonagall and Severus Snape. The two were opposites and yet both so fiercely loyal that he'd valued their opinions more than anyone else's. The two of them had formed a strange camaraderie over many a night spent watching the old wizard pace about in a state of unbridled agitation or leaning over his pensive with the pale blue light illuminating his aged features, too deep in thought to even speak to them.

Now, Severus Snape did the same. He was leaning over with his hands resting on either side of the pensive as he stared into its misty contents. Even if it didn't offer him any solutions, it calmed him a little.

Minerva was pacing while Remus and Tonks were sat at his desk. He couldn't quite believe that his own warped version of Dumbledore's 'court' consisted of a werewolf and his wife, who was gently rocking her son to sleep on her lap, as well as the Scottish harpy responsible for driving him out of the school. His usual little court however did not tend to include three foolish young adults, otherwise known as the Golden Trio, who stood not far from his desk.

"You can't be serious," Minerva remarked, not for the first time that night.

"I'm perfectly serious," the headmaster told her, again.

"I don't believe you."

"So you've said."

"I keep saying it in the hope that you'll come to your senses and tell me that this is all some kind of joke!"

"I rarely joke," he said, dryly.

"It could be a side effect of your medication," she threw up her hands in frustration.

"I think not."

"Sleep deprivation?" Minerva chanced.

"I'm used to it," Severus told her with a nonchalant shrug.

"Lack of food?"

"I ate less than an hour ago. You were there," he retorted and she let out a sigh which almost sounded like a growl.

"As your deputy headmistress, I cannot condone it," she said most emphatically.

"I'll let you know when this becomes a democracy," Severus raised his eyebrow elegantly at her. By now, they were well accustomed to the headmasters daily, some would even argue, overuse, of sarcasm and dry wit. At first it had been a shock for them to learn that the 'Bat of the Dungeons' had a wicked sense of humour, but now it was difficult to imagine the man without it.

"Curse you and your blasted sarcasm, Severus, this is not the time! Vampires are dangerous. And you still haven't recovered from everything else," Minerva stated.

"I'm perfectly fine."

"I'm afraid, my dear boy, that I must agree with Minerva," Albus' portrait said, "It's not worth the risk."

"Of course it's worth the risk! Don't lie to me," Severus sneered at the portrait. "If it was your choice, you'd take the chance or you'd be telling me to take it for you...And if you three weren't so intent on becoming spies yourselves I could've been spared this headache!" he added after turning to the three students.

"I swear, we didn't mean to hear any..." Harry began, but Snape ignored him.

"It's not worth risking your life!" Albus reiterated at the same time.

"Albus, you're a hypocritical fool even in death!" the man rounded on the portrait. "You know full well that I am well acquainted with dangerous situations. My...position demanded it. Information does not come without risk or without a price. The Aurors have failed. They have found two dead Death Eaters and left the worst one alive! He's killed three people...that the Ministry knows of...and there will be more every week until he is caught!"

"But you are a spy no longer, it is not your responsibility..."

"Then whose is it?

"The Ministry..."

"And they have failed. I'd rather not start another year surrounded by Aurors; they're just as suspicious of me as they are of him. Demetrius has proven himself to be a reliable source of information in the past..."

"You've done this before?!" Minerva exclaimed.

"I am...was...a spy. My purpose was to gather information. Where do you think it came from? The sky?"

"But vampires, Severus?"

"Why, Minerva," the man crossed his arms, smugly. "I never thought you were the prejudice sort," he said, silkily.

"Don't you start that with me young man..."

"I am your superior," he reminded her and she hissed again, furious.

"I fear I know the answer," Remus began, quietly, "But what did this Demetrius want in return for his information?"

"Tea and scones," Severus answered perfectly seriously and the werewolf gave him a sad, knowing look.

"How many times?"

"More than enough."

"You fed it...more than once?" Minerva demanded, wide eyed, "That's illegal! Not to mention dangerous...of all the reckless, irresponsible..."

"Won't their bite...make you one of them?" Hermione asked, quietly.

"Ordinarily, yes," Severus answered.

"Then why aren't you..." Tonks stared at him.

"I'm pretty sure he is..." Ron grumbled and Hermione elbowed him in the stomach.

"I assure you, Weasley, I am not," he scowled at the nervous red head.

"How?" Remus asked.

"I...have a potion. If taken directly after being bitten it counters the effects," Severus told them.

"I've never heard of such a potion," Minerva remarked.

"It's of my own design."

"Well, it could save lives. Perhaps you should..."

"It would not save lives," the headmaster stated with confidence. "It is a poison to which I built up a certain degree of tolerance before I was first bitten. It's not to be used lightly."

Some would argue that perhaps his potion was not entirely successful. He was pale, he wasn't a fan of the sunlight and his favourite place in the castle was the dungeons. Maybe some inherent vampire traits had seeped through a little. On occasion the sun did hurt his eyes. Certainly for the first few weeks after being bitten he usually had a hypersensitivity to sunlight. But he wasn't a vampire, so at least as far as the worst of it was concerned, he'd been rather successful.

"You were very thorough, weren't you?" Albus sighed.

"Poison!" Minerva repeated.

"Calm down, you're giving me a migraine," Severus shook his head at her.

"I'll show you a 'migraine'..." the witch glared at him. The last time she'd been so furious with him was when she'd forced him from the castle. If it had come down to a fight to death, Severus had been rather afraid that he'd have ended up hurting her, even accidentally, so he'd fled and faced the Dark Lord's painful wrath. He'd have been expected to kill her mercilessly like the Death Eater he was, and he simply hadn't been able to. Seeing her so angry now wasn't something that Severus enjoyed.

"There's absolutely no doubt in my mind, Severus," Albus' portrait began, calmly, "That that you were the most accomplished and successful spy this country has ever produced since sir Francis Walsingham. He was actually a wizard himself you know and he..."

"I don't need a history lesson, I know who he was," Severus snapped.

"Naturally you do, I'd expect nothing less. But what I was meaning to say, was that like Walsingham himself, you have an impressive network of sources. Surely there is another with the information, one that is less likely to see you as their main course."

"I've tried...there's no one. There's nothing. This is the first time I've heard anything at all and I can't afford to simply do nothing," the pale wizard dropped his head over the pensive, "I don't have any other choice."

"There's always a..."

"Not in this case."

"You've always been so stubborn," the portrait lamented, fondly, "But poison?"

"It was...necessary. Vampires can get information that no one else can and I don't have anything else to bargain with. The poison destroys their...infection but because of my immunity, it doesn't kill me."

"You never mentioned it before."

"You never asked about my...methods," Severus retorted and the man nodded, sadly.

"...Well...you are determined to do this, aren't you? Very well, I cannot stop you. When is this...meeting?" Albus asked after taking a deep breath.

"Friday night," Severus answered.

"In the forest?"

"The furthest north as it's possible to get without leaving the grounds but outside of the wards. There's a small clearing by a stream."

"Ah, yes, I know it," Albus nodded, "A beautiful spot. It is, however, a fair distance from the castle should things go wrong."

"I can't allow him to come any closer," Severus replied.

"You misunderstand, Severus, I meant that you might not be able to return across such a distance if you are injured...Though, I know, that's never stopped you in the past. That's why I ask...no, I beg you..."

"Don't..." Severus shook his head, glancing over at their rapt audience. He'd already spoken freely enough, he wasn't sure how much more his pride could take.

"Yes, Severus, I beg you not to do this. I've seen you return injured too many times. The war is over, my dear boy, it's done. Finished. You have had the extremely good fortune to survive it and you're free now..."

"You're exaggerating."

"I'm telling you the truth. I saw you return after every one of your...meetings, either with the Death Eaters, with Lord Voldemort or your informants and I don't see why you would want to continue..."

"I don't 'want' to, I 'have' to," Severus said and then looked over at his others who had been so silent in his office. "And none of you...will inform the Ministry of this," he told them.

"No, I'll simply inform Hagrid and I'll have him sit on you until next week," Minerva remarked, "If that's what it takes, by Merlin, I'll do it."

"I remind you that as headmaster I can apparate here regardless of the threat of suffocation," he replied.

"I mean it, Severus," she said, "I won't allow you to do this, if you're caught..."

"The only way I will be caught is if any of you is responsible."

"But..." Minerva began much more quietly as she approached him and glanced at Harry and his friends, "They're children and conspiring like this to...feed...an unregistered vampire, one who's already on the Ministry's radar and risk infecting yourself is just too dangerous. If this..."

"They are not children, legally, they are adults capable of making their own decisions. As am I," Severus said.

"But it's conspiracy at the very least! Withholding information that could lead to the capture of a wanted criminal...misleading the course of justice..." Minerva listed.

"The course of justice," Severus mocked, "Dictates that the Death Eater on a murderous rampage is far more dangerous than a hedonistic vampire. And besides, I am a wanted criminal too. If you turn us in it won't only be Demetrius who gets arrested."

"You wouldn't be..."

"Meeting with an unregistered vampire, not only with the intent of feeding it, but also with prior knowledge of said vampires' whereabouts and a means of contacting him...that's more than enough to land a man in Azkaban even without my record."

"He's right," Remus spoke up. "I don't like the idea, Severus...any of it. But we don't have another choice. I'm sorry to say that...I agree with you on this."

"I'll contact the Daily Prophet," he drawled, "I feel certain that it would make the front page."

"But...I'll be going with you," the werewolf added, confidently.

"Unwise," Severus said, simply.

"Maybe," the man nodded, "But I'm still going."

"I could stop you," the headmaster threatened, menacingly.

"I don't doubt that," Remus smiled, "But I'd give it my best shot. I dare say I'd slow you down a little and you can't afford any more injuries if you're to face a vampire."

"You enjoy making my life a misery, don't you?" Severus glared.

"If Remus goes, then I go," Tonks told him.

"Fine, there's the door," the man waved his pale hand across the room.

"Not 'go' 'go'," she sighed, "As in 'go'. 'Go' as in..."

"Stop saying 'go'," Severus rolled his eyes.

"Sorry," Tonks muttered, "But you get my point."

"What of your child?" the headmaster stared at the couple, "Surely his needs come before your own ridiculous need to smother me."

"We're going with you," Remus said in a tone of finality.

"I feel safer already."

Late on Friday night, Harry Potter walked quickly beside his friends Ron and Hermione with Remus, Tonks and Minerva behind them and Severus in front, leading the way. It was pitch black so no one was really sure just how he knew where he was going as they'd left the lights of Hogwarts far behind them. They'd been walking through the forest for at least half an hour now and Harry knew that Snape was still angry with them. He was angry that Harry and his friends had found out about his meeting and that they'd insisted on accompanying him.

"You're too loud," Snape said, quietly.

"We're not even talking," Ron pointed out.

"You're walking like a heard of elephants," the headmaster replied, "They'll hear you before you even see them."

"We can't see anything," Harry said, "How can you?" He was slightly curious as to why exactly Snape was walking without making a sound, he wasn't treading on leaves or branches that crunched underfoot like they were.

"Practice," Snape replied, simply.

"Can't we just use one 'lumos'?" Ron asked.

"No," the man sighed and whipped his eyes over to the clearing they'd reached.

At the other end, shrouded in the shadows, was a group of six vampires. They were stood amongst the trees right at one edge of the large clearing illuminated only by the moonlight and the stars and at the opposite end.

"Don't do anything stupid," Snape warned Harry, speaking slowly as he glanced down at the three students. "Don't look directly into their eyes. Don't make any sudden movements. Don't interfere...and don't let them see that you're afraid."

"Easier said than done," Harry replied, giving the wizard a weak smile.

Snape said nothing further as he walked out into the clearing, the six of them following slowly behind him. At the same time, one of the vampires began to emerge from the shadows while the others trailed behind.

In the centre of the clearing, Snape stood opposite the leader of the other five vampires; Demetrius. The others present were within hearing distance, but they were stood back from the meeting.

"Demetrius," Snape greeted the vampire.

"I thought you were to come alone, Severus," Demetrius replied, tilting his head as he appraised the people standing behind the headmaster. He was, like all vampires, incredibly pale with dark sunken eyes and glistening fangs. He had grimy black hair and his clothes had probably seen better days but despite this, he looked imposing and dangerous.

"I could say the same."

"Ah," the vampire breathed, "I had...a slight change of plan."

"How fortunate, that I did as well," Snape said and Demetrius smiled at him.

"You brought a werewolf," the vampire stated, "I should probably be offended."

"It's house trained," the wizard replied much to the vampire's amusement.

"Well, then, unfortunately, I have a rather dear friend in need of your help. He met with a - shall we say - an accident. I keep telling him not to play with his food," he chuckled. "He really does appear rather unwell, doesn't he?" he said, looking over at one of the other vampires. It was a young man with the same dark features that seemed inherent in all vampires, wearing a blood splattered and dirt covered suit and a torn travelling cloak.

"Did his food fight back?" Severus asked, with a twitch of his lip.

"Not for long," Demetrius answered.

"Long enough."

"Quite," the vampire said. "I don't suppose...anyone over there is...on the menu? They smell much more healthy than you...except the mutt, of course. We are not quite that desperate," he remarked with greedy eyes.

"Try it...and you'll see just how 'healthy' I am," Severus glared at him, brandishing his wand.

"Just a thought," Demetrius raised his hands.

"Tell me what you know," Snape demanded and the two began to take slow steps, circling each other, never breaking eye contact as they moved.

"Your friend, Lestrange, he's clever," Demetrius remarked, "We saw him just after he killed that poor, young muggle last week. A tragedy really," he mocked. "Can you see?" he asked, referring to Snape's use of Legilimency. "I have proof," he added, slowly taking a wand from his robes.

"Whose?"

"See for yourself," Demetrius said, kneeling to place the wand on the ground at his feet. He then moved slowly backwards and for each stride he took, Snape took one forwards until he knelt down to pick up the wand.

He pointed his own wand at it for a second and silently stared at it, then he looked back up at the vampire. "Lestrange's," Snape confirmed.

"Hmmm," Demetrius nodded smugly and regarded the wizard with a toothy grin.

"Is he dead?" Severus asked him as he hid the other wand in his robes.

"No."

"A pity. Is that all?"

"That is all," the vampire nodded and the wizard sighed, standing up slowly.

Demetrius waved minutely over at Mikhail who trudged over to them and stood at his master's side. "Mikhail...dinner," he said in a way that would come to haunt Severus' nightmares for many, many months.

A wounded vampire was a dangerous predator and it flew towards him much quicker than Nagini had slithered to Charity Burbage but he couldn't ignore the similarity. Neither could he ignore the fact that the fangs of a vampire were very much like the fangs of that same snake which had almost killed him. But information always had a price and there were worse ways to get it. He'd made a deal and he had to stick to it. He had a flawless yet ruthless reputation among his sources. He always kept his word but woe betide the informant that didn't.

Severus' already much abused neck bled profusely without much effort on Mikhail's part but that didn't stop the vampire's ruthlessness, nor did he expect it to. Out of necessity he'd fed vampires too many times to count and it never got any easier. It was a horrible feeling and Severus hated it. He hated being weak, he hated being seen as simply someone's 'prey.'

With what was left of the skin of his neck being torn to shreds he raised his arm weakly and grabbed the throat of the feeding predator and squeezed. The vampire hissed but it hardly slowed him down.

"Do try not to kill the headmaster," Demetrius said in a rather insulting, off hand hand manner as he stalked closely around them both with a smile.

"Your concern...is...touching," Severus managed to gasp. He closed his eyes and so missed the wide grin on the elder vampire's face.

"Is it my fault that you people are so fragile?" he asked, rhetorically.

"I can't believe I'm allowing this to happen," Minerva sighed, looking away.

"It's not like you didn't try to stop him," Tonks said.

"How long has it been?" Remus asked, tense.

"Twenty seconds," Harry answered after a quick spell.

"That will have to do," Minerva declared, taking out her wand and moving quickly out into the clearing.

When she and the others reached the centre, Demetrius and his followers hissed at them, brandishing their sharp teeth and the noise was enough to make Severus open his eyes.

"Fools!" he hissed, "Don't...interfere!"

"It's been long enough...any longer and you'll..." Minerva began.

With an almost blinding flash of light, Severus forced the vampire away from his neck and he landed at least ten feet away on the grass. He jumped to his feet and hissed menacingly at the wizard but Demetrius put a hand on his shoulder and stopped him from advancing. Without saying a single word, the vampire shrank back to the others leaving Demetrius standing before Severus who was by now, breathing heavily with his left hand clutching at his bleeding neck and his right was holding his wand up at the vampire.

"I don't need your 'help'," the dark wizard growled at them, still with his eyes on the vampire. "Now get back!" he ordered.

"Indeed you don't need them," Demetrius said, "So why did you bring them?"

"Why did you bring so many others?" Severus countered.

"These are...uncertain times. I needed to be sure that you would not turn me over to the Ministry. I needed...insurance. Now that I know just which side you've been all these years, I wasn't quite sure that you'd honour our...agreements."

"And now?"

"Now, I still think...you'd make a rather fine addition to my little family," Demetrius smirked.

"No," Severus grimaced.

"Ah, well, next time, perhaps."

"Not likely."

"We shall see. Age catches up to you, you see. One day, you'll understand that what I offer is a gift," he said but Severus just scoffed at him as the vampire left, his 'little family' following him. He didn't lower his wand arm until they'd vanished completely into the shadows and all trace of adrenaline and strength left him at the same time.

"Was that worth it, Severus?" Minerva asked gently as she took his limp wand arm around her shoulder. He turned his tired gaze away from her disapproving yet sympathetic eyes and removed his shaky arm from around her shoulder.

"I don't...expect you to...understand," he muttered.

"Oh, I understand," she nodded, watching the man as he stood on uncertain legs. "I understand that the words 'personal safety' and 'self preservation' are not in your vocabulary," she said.

"My safety...is of little...consequence," Severus hissed as Remus sealed the wounds with his wand. He then forced the werewolf's hands away and fumbled in his robes for a phial of black liquid. With unsteady, bloodstained hands he removed the cork and drank its contents then uttered a foul curse after he forced himself to swallow it.

"Did you at least learn something useful?" the werewolf asked.

"Of course," Severus glared.

"The rest of us are not nearly as accomplished at Legilimency, so you'll have to enlighten us," the other wizard replied, calmly.

"There isn't...time," the headmaster replied. He forced Remus' hand away and silently conjured bandages which wrapped themselves around his neck. It wasn't the best idea to leave the wound so untreated, but he didn't have a choice; he had a solid lead and he couldn't afford to waste it.

"What'd you mean there isn't..." Harry began to ask but before he could finish, Severus had apparated and he was gone.

As each day passed and with no sign of Severus returning anytime soon, there were new rumours every day to explain his absence and they'd got increasingly ridiculous as time wore on. Harry stared at the Marauders map every second when he wasn't in class and even then, he managed to sneak a few glances when people weren't looking. Well, Remus noticed him in Defence, but he didn't say anything.

On the morning of the seventh day, however, when Harry was reading the Quibler over his breakfast in the Great Hall, he saw the rather large headline that bore Lestrange's name and he called for his friends to read the article with him.

"They caught him," Harry told them, "The Ministry's got Lestrange."

"It's in the Prophet too," Hermione said, gesturing to the newspaper. They'd been reading them all week and it looked as though it had paid off as they were among the first to discover the news.

At that moment, Fawkes burst into the room and swooped down at the teachers' table where Minerva was sat. It circled her a few times but she seemed to get the message fairly quickly for she stood and was lead out of the Hall by the beautiful Phoenix.

Without a word, Harry had followed her and by definition so had his two friends, though Ron had saw fit to carry a piece of toast with him as he ran.

They were lead to the headmasters' office and they rode the spiral staircase with the deputy head despite her reluctance. Inside, they found Snape kneeling on the floor, shying away from the light that streamed in through the windows. His clothes were dirty and he had a a dark smattering of stubble on his cheeks. The bandage at his neck was stained in old, dried blood but other than that, there didn't seem to be any other wounds.

"Fawkes, you bloody menace," the man hissed at the bird, "I told you to close the curtains not fetch the Gryffindor cavalry!"

"Professor..." Harry said, moving towards the man.

"Go away, Potter!" Severus growled. He looked up at the young man and winced when his eyes were met with almost blinding sunlight.

"What on earth is the matter, Severus?" Minerva knelt by his side and tried to help him up but he shrugged her off. He didn't say anything as he closed his eyes again. "Well, make yourselves, useful," she said to the three students, "Close the curtains."

They did so but not without first sharing a look of confusion between them and once the room was in darkness, Minerva waved her wand and ignited the oil lamps scattered about the room. "Better?" she asked him and he nodded once. "Now, please, explain yourself," the witch demanded as she, ignoring his protests, helped him to sit at his desk.

"Light sensitivity," he grumbled when he was sat down, "Happens...sometimes." It was simply a side effect from being bitten by a vampire and not becoming one because of his potion. It usually went away after about two weeks, he knew from bitter experience.

"Explain where you have been," Minerva sighed. "Not one word from you for a week, Severus. A week! We had Order members out looking for you every day! What were you doing?"

"The Ministry's job," Severus told her. He began to unwind the bandage from around his neck and blessedly the vampire bite was healed now. The scar from having his throat cut was still shockingly visible though and since it had recently been reopened, it wasn't likely to disappear anytime soon.

"You...you found Lestrange?" Harry guessed, "It was in the papers...we've only just seen it. But the Prophet says that the Ministry found him, there wasn't..."

"Silence," the man muttered, sitting back in his chair, refusing to show anymore weakness than he already had. He may appear as though he had the worst hangover of the century, but he could still intimidate. "You three," he said to the Golden Trio, "Will leave my office...at once. That's not a request!"

"But, sir, please..." Harry began.

"I said, now!" Severus yelled, standing up and slamming his hands on the desk. He wasn't usually one for such displays, but it got his message across and the students left.

"Now, tell me everything, please," Minerva said once they were gone.

Chapter 17: 25th November 1998

A Volatile Visit

25th November 1998

Gawain Robards was a tall man with a large scar down the right side of his face and his slightly greying, brown hair was brushed back, neatly. He was dressed smartly and usually he could intimidate almost any one. *1 The Minister who stood beside him had always been an exception and so too was Severus Snape. The dark wizard wasn't at all intimidated by the Head of the Auror Office and he'd matched Gawain's blue eyed glare with a dark stare of his own.

"You had no right to interfere," the Auror glared at him.

"I had no choice!" Severus hissed back, "Your incompetence made certain of that."

"We're down to less than half the Auror's we're supposed to have..."

"Gawain, please," Kingsley sighed and turned to Severus. "I'm very grateful for what you've done, Severus. We both are. I don't know how you did it...and if I asked I know you wouldn't tell me."

"Because it was very likely illegal," Gawain scowled but said nothing further after a glance from Kingsley.

"Whether it was or it wasn't, we can't argue with the results, can we?" the Minister said to him.

"...I suppose not, Minister," the man ground out, though clearly it took a lot of effort.

"Will there be a trial?" Minerva asked, speaking up.

"There'll have to be, even if it is a foregone conclusion," Kingsley answered.

"My name is not to be mentioned," Severus said.

"I'll do what I can, if that's what you want," Kingsley promised him, "But if Lestrange chooses to tell the court that you found him...however you found him, then I might not be able to..."

"He'll have nothing to tell you."

"Alright," the man nodded. "But the Ministry won't forget this, I promise. You've done us a great service," he added but Snape just grimaced.

"If this were to become public knowledge, the Auror Office may never live it down!" Gawain lamented, "People already think that we were the ones responsible."

"And it's better to keep it that way, isn't it?" the headmaster sneered, "Merlin forbid that people realise just how useless you truly are."

"Now, see here," the Auror rounded on him, "I didn't come here to be insulted, especially not by a Death Eater," he hissed the words as though they were worst form of insult.

"This Death Eater just did your job for you," Severus retorted.

"You vile little..."

"Now that Lestrange is dealt with, there's no more need for the Aurors to patrol the school, isn't that right, Gawain?" Kingsley spoke quickly.

"I'd still rather they..."

"You did just say you needed more Aurors, didn't you?" Minerva asked, shrewdly.

"...Yes, fine," the man sighed, "I'll speak to them."

"I'll meet you in the Entrance Hall then," Kingsley said and the man grudgingly acknowledged his dismissal before he left without a word. "I'd apologise for Gawain...but you'd probably only glare at me," he said to Severus once the Auror was gone.

"He's as bad as Alastor...Merlin rest his soul," Minerva said. Alastor Moody had been famously distrustful of Severus and it had been no secret in the Order that the man had watched him like a hawk.

"He's a good man," Kingsley defended, "But he's been...preoccupied, lately."

"Haven't we all?" Snape growled.

"True," the man nodded, smiling. "I'll do my best to keep him out of Hogwarts," he added and Snape gave him a slight incline of his head. "I don't want to have to find someone to take his place quite yet, after all," he grinned.

"You've never had much luck when it comes to Aurors, have you, Severus?" Albus' portrait remarked.

"I wonder why," the man rolled his eyes.

"Before I forget," the Minister began. He placed a red pouch onto the headmasters' desk and it made a familiar, monentary sound.

"What...is this?" Severus drawled, eyeing the pouch with disdain.

"500 Galleons," Kingsley answered.

"For?"

"Well, for you," the man said, "It's the reward for information on Lestrange."

There had been a long standing reward offered by the Ministry in exchange for Lestrange's whereabouts or, indeed, any information at all. And since Kingsley was Minister, he could give the reward as he chose.

"Keep it."

"I'd rather you had it."

"No."

"You can use it towards the repairs," the Minister suggested.

"Most of it is finished."

"Buy some new...Quidditch stands then."

"We don't need any..."

"I'm sure, Hogwarts will accept such a gracious offer, won't it, headmaster?" Minerva turned to him and he sighed.

"If there's nothing further, Minister," Severus said to him as he smiled. The man just had to have said 'Quidditch', didn't he? Minerva's eyes practically gleamed with anticipation now.

"No, no, that's it," Kingsley nodded.

A.N. A review from BeholdTheMetatron1946 got me thinking about writing something where Snape is an Animagus but I'm not sure what animal he should be. I've read theories where he's a spider or a bat and I'd love to hear any theories you guys have as to what he could be and what could happen. I read about the spider theory, though personally I'd prefer something a little more impressive. Any and all ideas are welcome!

*1 I can't remember reading anything about Gawain Robards and there's no description of him on his wiki page so I improvised. If anyone remembers anything from the books, please let me know.

Chapter 18: 11th September 1998

Lesson One

11th September 1998

The new eighth years' common room had formerly been a teachers' lounge. It had been overrun with tiny creatures called Xindis which had been brought into the castle by an unwitting student over thirty years ago and then it had been abandoned when all efforts to rid the castle of the little creatures had failed. These small creatures looked like goblins only they were much smaller and much more annoying. They'd were rather like Pixies without wings and just as irritating as Poltergeists. Only after a great deal of persistence from the Hogwarts staff was the room finally fit for use. *1

Hagrid now had a small colony of Xindis living around his hut to use in one of his lessons so he was delighted. The eighth years were just happy to have somewhere quiet to sit in the evening and Severus was just relieved that he didn't have to scour the castle looking for a suitable common room anymore. The rest of the staff had proclaimed the need for a 'small' celebration when they'd actually managed to succeed.

The room was smaller than the usual common rooms but there was only fifty odd students that used it, so it didn't matter. It had a large fireplace so it was nice and warm, and access to their own dorms. What more did they need?

The curious, magical clock on the elaborately carved, stone mantle struck a quarter to eight and Harry began to close his text books.

"I think you're barking mad," Ron said, turning a page in the that book he wasn't really reading. He wasn't fooling anyone, Harry and Hermione knew he wasn't interested in reading about the potential dangers of potion brewing for his essay.

"Thanks, Ron," Harry muttered back.

"You're still goin', aren't you?" he asked, shocked.

"Course."

"Barkin' mad," Ron repeated.

Hermione just rolled her eyes and shook her head at him and then glanced over at Harry with a smile. "Good luck," she said to him, kindly.

"Thanks," Harry replied, genuinely.

"Yeah, good luck surviving that 'lesson'," Ron replied as Harry left, "If you don't come back, I get your broom!"

"Did you practice?" Severus asked Harry the instant he'd walked through the office door.

"Yes," Harry nodded, walking over to the desk.

"We'll see," the headmaster replied, simply.

For Harry, it had been an embarrassing hour. Snape had once again been able to sift through his memories with ridiculous ease and even worse, some of the first ones he'd seen had, in some way, been related to the man himself. There had been Quirrel in first year claiming that Snape had been protecting the young and very confused Harry. Then seeing Snape throw Lockheart aside with a simple Expelliarmus which had prompted Harry to adopt the spell with childish reverence. He'd also tried to protect Harry and his friends in third year when Remus had transformed, which, at the time, Harry hadn't thought much of.

After seeing all of these memories and more, Severus had said nothing, mercifully, and he'd just continued their lesson. On occasion, one of those memories would be repeated, but each time, the man was silent while Harry felt his embarrassment and his nervousness increase tenfold.

It wasn't only his own memories Harry saw too. As Snape tore through his mind again and again, the ones that seemed to aggravate the headmaster the most, were the ones that Harry had seen in the pensive. The memories that Snape had given him. Of course, Severus hadn't meant to give him so many memories but at the time he'd been dying and that had made it rather difficult to concentrate. When he saw himself as a relatively young man, begging Albus to somehow, someway, save Lily's life, his composure seemed to snap and he renewed his efforts with an almost manic energy.

"Concentrate, Potter," he hissed.

"I...am..." Harry insisted as Snape bombarded his way through Harry's mind again.

They found themselves in Grimmauld Place as Harry hugged Sirius and Snape sneered at him. "Pathetic," Snape grimaced and he withdrew from the young wizard's mind.

Harry sank into a chair and scrubbed a shaky hand through his messy hair. There wasn't a portrait in sight in Severus' private sitting room so none of the former headmasters would be able to rally to his aid as he breathed heavily, trying to avoid Snape's dark eyes.

Severus sighed heavily and pursed his lip. He didn't believe for a moment that Harry would be any more successful at Occlumency than he had the first time. The boy just wasn't suited to it. It was abundantly clear to anyone with half a brain.

"I...I really am trying, professor," Harry breathed, "I know you don't believe me...but I am."

"You should be showing signs of improvement," Snape told him as he stood before the fireplace. "At the very least you should be able to partially obscure a memory, even a single word, but you can't. I told you that you are not suited to..."

"I know!" the young wizard exclaimed angrily. "I know. I'm a terrible Occlumens...but you're not giving me a chance..."

"Stupid boy, anyone who wants to invade your mind isn't going to..."

"Voldemort's dead! Who else is..."

"Don't say his name!" Snape growled at him, menacingly.

"You-Know-Who then! But it sounds..."

"Fool!" Severus hissed, swooping forwards, grabbing Harry's sweat stained shirt and pinning him to the wall. "You have no idea...what happened to those of us who used the name! Only those with a death wish will say it...even now...No Death Eater will ever say it nor will you say it my presence!" he declared, seemingly ignorant of the fear in Harry's eyes.

"But...sir, he's..."

"Don't insult my intelligence, Potter, I know the Dark Lord is dead!" he snapped quickly, his grip tightening on Harry shirt.

Discretely, Harry tried to raise his wand in case he needed to defend himself in case the sudden manic anger of his professor manifested itself in an even more aggressive way but Snape made a slight move of his arm and the boy's wand was sent hurtling across the room.

"I..."

"If you say the name...one more time...you'll soon understand why I don't use it...I assure you."

"I'm sorry," Harry said, genuinely, "I won't say it again...not to you."

It was difficult for Harry to bite his tongue rather than argue back, but he didn't want to fight. It was hard enough trying to speak to Snape without adding insults and hexes but with the man looking at him with such anger, it was impossible. Ron thought he was crazy for even trying to be civil to Snape and at times, like now, Harry agreed with his friend. Snape was such an angry person but he had a right to be, didn't he?

Snape seemed genuinely surprised at his admission and it was enough to make the man release Harry and take a step back. The headmaster began to wonder if perhaps he'd managed to damage Harry's mind to make him agree so quickly.

He raised his simple black wand and without saying a word this time, he delved into the boy's mind, making sure that the feeble defences were undamaged and that he'd not done irreparable harm. It wasn't the memories he was looking at this time and Harry quickly noticed that but he didn't understand what Snape was doing neither could he force the strong presence from his mind. Fortunately, it withdrew quickly.

"What...what did you...what were you looking for, sir?" Harry asked, confused.

"Insanity," Snape answered simply.

"...Erm...why?"

"Because you are doing a fine imitation of it."

"Oh..." Harry muttered, stunned. The serious with which Snape spoke probably should have concerned him, it certainly set him on edge a little, and yet he couldn't help but snort in amusement.

"Insanity is not funny, Potter," Snape said, his hand still clutching his wand.

"I've been called crazy before, sir," Harry remarked, watching as one of those very rare, barely noticeable smirks appeared on the man's face before it vanished completely. "What...what happened...to Death Eaters...to people who used...that name?" he asked, using all his Gryffindor courage.

"If they were lucky," Severus raised an eyebrow, "Death...eventually."

"And...if they weren't?" he asked, and Snape turned away from him, looking at the flames burning in the old grate instead. Subconsciously, he placed his right hand on his left forearm and gently flexed his fingers along his arm. "What's...is your arm hurting?" Harry asked. Severus glared at him but he didn't say anything. "It's just...well, you kept doing that...before, I mean, in the hospital wing. Madame Pomfrey didn't know why..." the young wizard continued as he glanced at Snape's forearm.

Instantly, Severus removed his right hand from his arm and rounded on the younger wizard again. He then, gracefully, pointed his wand at Harry.

"You have five minutes remaining," he drawled, "I suggest you use them wisely. Prove to me that you haven't wasted my time...if you can."

Five minutes later, Harry had been no more successful at Occlumency than he had been the first time, but with a solemn promise that he would practice Occluding before he slept, he left and Severus could breathe a sigh of relief. He walked back out into the main office where each set of eyes from the portraits settled on him instantly.

"Well, Severus?" Albus asked but the hark haired wizard shook his head.

"Nothing," he answered.

"Ah...well, you expected this. You've said from the beginning that Harry is not suited to Occlumency."

"Now, perhaps, do you believe me?"

"I never doubted you. I know it is a discipline that requires unquestionable emotional restraint that Harry simply isn't capable of. You are. But at the time of my initial request, we didn't have any other option. I had hoped..."

"The boy thinks he can use emotion as a means of defence," Severus scoffed.

"Because it worked rather well against Voldemort...I see," the man nodded and Severus grimaced on hearing the name. Albus knew that he hated hearing the name and yet still he persisted. Severus thought the old coot was doing it just to irritate him. "It won't work against anyone else, we both know that," Albus added.

"I could tear his mind to pieces and he wouldn't be able to stop me. He has fewer mental shields than a newborn infant."

"I see," the portrait hummed, thoughtfully. "Then what do you plan on doing about these 'lessons'?" he asked, "Harry did ask for two weeks to prove himself, didn't he?"

"He won't learn anything."

"I trust your judgement," Albus remarked, "If you say so, then I believe you." Severus regarded the portrait with a suspicious gaze which seemed to amuse Albus more than a little. "But...he did seem rather determined, didn't he?" the older man asked.

"The boy is foolish and emotional," Severus vented, "No amount of determination will make him a better Occlumens, he simply cannot learn."

"...Perhaps it isn't Occlumency that has him so focused..." Albus mused.

"What?"

"Nothing, Severus, nothing at all, dear boy. You and Harry are two of the most stubborn wizards I have ever met; between you, I'm certain you will be able to..."

"I knew it," Severus snapped, "You still want me to teach the boy even after everything I've said!"

"No one forced you to meet with Harry tonight," Albus pointed out.

"And I won't do it again."

"Well, if you're sure," Albus nodded.

Severus' suspicions only increased. He was rather confused. First the boy had agreed so easily earlier, even apologised and sworn never to say the Dark Lord's name in his presence. Now, Albus was being so agreeable. Were they both out to confuse him?

"Something wrong?" the portrait asked him.

The dark wizard shook his head, as though willing the craziness of both Albus and Harry from his mind and then he stormed off to his bed chamber, making sure to slam the door shut behind him.

"That could've been far worse, my friends," Albus said to his fellow portraits and they all nodded their agreement, eagerly.

*1 Xindis are, if it needed explaining, my own warped little creation.

Chapter 19: 20th August 1998

Burying the Hatchet?

20th August 1998

It was relatively late when Remus and Tonks finally managed to settle an excitable Teddy into his new bed in Hogwarts. They'd finished moving into the castle and Minerva had been the last one to leave their rooms for the night. So Remus made his way through the quiet castle up to the Headmaster's office.

There was no answer when he knocked on the door but he opened it and glanced around the dark room. "Hello?" he said as he stepped in and closed the door behind him quietly.

"Ah, Remus," Albus' portrait smiled at him, "A pleasure, as always."

"Albus," he smiled back, walking across to the desk.

"It's been a long time since there was a family living in Hogwarts," the old man remarked.

"So I've been told."

"I expect the castle's quite happy about it."

"The castle is...happy?" Remus reiterated, confused.

"Ah, of course, I never told you, did I? Forgive me. Well, this is a thousand year old castle, it has magic of its own, so it has a mind and voice of its own."

"And you can hear it?"

"Not anymore. But Severus can. It's probably been driving him out of his mind."

"I see. I haven't seen him, no one has."

"I suppose that's to be expected. Hogwarts tends to be quite overwhelming when it's happy," Albus nodded. "If you came here to talk to Severus, I feel it only right to warn you that he might not be at his most patient after having the castle singing and dancing inside his head all day."

"I think I'll manage," Remus smiled.

"I'd expect nothing less," the old man smiled back, his painted eyes managing to twinkle even on the canvas. "Try in there," he said, pointing with his hand to a door deep inside the office.

It lead to a small but beautiful sitting room with a fireplace and the grand stone arches that were so prominent in the main office but which were repeated throughout the headmasters' rooms.

"Go away, wolf," Severus said quickly as soon as the door had opened.

"Albus tells me you've probably got a headache," Remus said, "Do you want me to fetch you anything? A potion?"

"...Don't you think I would have tried a potion?" he snapped.

"They don't help?" Remus asked.

"And neither does your infernal chattering."

"I didn't know that the castle could talk," the werewolf remarked and sat down in one of the worn looking armchairs by the fire.

Severus himself was sat there, reclining back comfortably with a half empty glass tumbler in his right hand. "May I?" Remus asked, gesturing to the decanter resting on a small table in front of him. He, like many other courageous individuals, had found that a direct approach was really the only one that worked when it came to Severus Snape but it was risky and not everyone was up to the challenge.

"No," Severus answered, but the other wizard had already conjured a glass for himself and filled it.

"Whiskey," Remus said after taking a sip. "A present from Minerva?" he asked. The deputy headmistress was about as famous for her love of whiskey as Severus was infamous for his frequent foul moods.

"Every year," the headmaster said, scowling at him and then looking away when Remus suddenly smiled.

"...I always did like this room," he declared, settling into his chair. "Didn't there used to be portraits?" he asked, looking around.

"Several."

"You moved them?"

"They were noisy," Severus retorted, pointedly.

"Ah," he nodded back. "Albus used to being me here after my transformations sometimes, if it had been particularly bad. We used to have tea," he said, taking another sip of whiskey.

Despite the fact that Severus didn't look at all interested, Remus didn't take offence. He knew he was rather pushing his luck in being here at all and now he was testing the man's patience by inviting himself into his private rooms and drinking his whiskey. But Remus wanted things to be different this time around. He didn't want his time as a teacher to be spent avoiding his employer. If possible he wanted to be civil at the very least. And he knew that it would take a lot of effort on his part to get to that stage. Severus was not a forgiving man nor was he a patient one but fortunately, Remus was very patient indeed.

"I don't drink tea," Severus said. He still wasn't looking at Remus, he was staring into the fire with his dark eyes but again, the werewolf wasn't offended.

"No, I know," Remus nodded. "I wanted to thank you again for this, for giving me this job, for letting Tonks and Teddy stay here. It'll be good for them."

The headmaster only let out a derisive snort and then drained the contents of his glass before refilling it. "I mean it, Severus, I really am grateful. I can't thank you enough. I know you didn't have to let them come and maybe you did only hire me because you couldn't find anyone else but...still, thank you," Remus told him.

"You're trying to compete with the castle, aren't you?" Severus grumbled, raising a black eyebrow.

"I'm what?"

"To see which of you can irritate me more."

"Who's winning?" Remus asked but he didn't get an answer. "Well, if I'm not, I should keep trying. My wife would never let me live it down if I lost to a castle," he chuckled. "You know, Tonks has her first lesson planned out. She wants to start some duelling, just some basic defensive spells. I expect Filius will hear about it soon and they'll start asking you about a duelling club. Does he still ask about that?"

Filius Flitwick had asked about staring a duelling club every year since he began teaching and it still irritated the Charms professor that the only year in which they'd had some duelling had been the year that they'd had to put up with Lockheart.

"Not for a while," Severus answered, slowly.

"Well, consider yourself forewarned," Remus replied, "Between them, they'll make sure you never get a moment's peace." Severus closed his eyes and placed his empty glass onto the floor at his feet. "How's your head?" the werewolf asked.

"...Why are you here?" Severus asked, forlornly, his dark eyes blinking open at him.

"Well, to see you, of course," he replied and watched as the other wizard scoffed at him. "People have been asking about you all day," he said. "Molly sent some food for you. I left it with the house elves," he added after a minute, "Apparently you need to eat more. She says the same thing to Harry."

"She is aware that the castle has a kitchen?" Severus asked, sarcastically.

"She means well," Remus said, seriously.

"Hmmm," the man mumbled to himself.

"And she is a good cook."

"Hmmm," Severus repeated.

For a few minutes neither of them said anything further until Remus leant forwards, toying with the glass between his callused and scared hands.

"...Look, Severus, I erm," he began lightly, "I did come here to thank you...but I want to do this right. I like it here and if you'll let me, I want to work here for as long as I can, or at least until it becomes too difficult to justify keeping a werewolf on the payroll. I know it didn't mean anything to you the first time...but I'm sorry. I truly am. I'll say it as many times as it takes for you to believe me. What we did to you when we were children was..."

"Get out," Severus growled at him.

"I don't mean to...I just...I want you to know how sorry I am. Even if it doesn't make any difference to you at all. I..."

"You're right, it doesn't make any difference, so why bother?"

"Because I can't live here and work here...and see you every day without telling you."

"Well, you've done so, now you can go," Severus snapped.

"No, I can't. No one else is here to apologise to you. I am...and I should've stopped them," Remus lamented. "I knew what we were doing was wrong but I never said anything...and I'm sorry. Every time something...happened...I always said that I'd tell them to stop. I'm not making excuses but...I'd never had friends before I came here; being a werewolf makes that sort of thing...difficult. I was afraid that if I ever said anything then I'd be alone."

Severus said nothing as he picked up his glass tumbler, refilled it and drank from it again. "A few months before Harry was born," Remus continued, "James told me that he wrote a letter to you. I don't think he actually sent it, it's probably still in the house somewhere, but he said he planned on sending it."

"Thankfully," Severus remarked, disdainfully, "I received no letter."

"I wish he'd sent it. He really did change after we left school; he grew up, it should've happened sooner but..."

"Get out," the man snapped at him again. "I don't care about your pathetic apology and I certainly don't want to hear about saint Potter," he spat when Remus made no move to leave.

"He was no saint," Remus snorted, "None of us were."

"No, you were something even better," Severus glared at him. "You were Albus' precious Gryffindors. You could do no wrong."

"I don't think it was like that...but someone should have done something. They should have stopped us. We shouldn't have needed anyone to stop us. We should've realised what we were doing was wrong. If anyone else had treated one of us like that, then we would have known it was wrong. It shouldn't have made a difference who it was I...I couldn't help but thinking about when Teddy grows up," the man sighed. "If he was treated the way we treated you, I don't think I'd ever forgive them, whatever their reasons...Did your parents ever..."

Severus just scoffed and turned away from the other wizard without saying anything. "They didn't know or they just didn't do anything?" Remus asked, "But it was seven years!"

"Your point?"

"...My point is that I'm sorry," Remus said after a moment. "What we did was...terrible. It was beyond cruel. And I'm not saying any of this to insult you. If I could change any of it, I would, but I can't...People make mistakes and the only thing we can do is apologise for them. If nothing else...I was hoping that we could at least be...civil."

"...Civil?"

"Yes. But if me being here is too...difficult for you, then I'll leave. I can find another job, I told you," he insisted.

"It's a little late for that," the headmaster muttered back.

"For an apology or for me to leave?"

"...Both," Severus answered and Remus nodded, giving a melancholy smile.

"...Alright," he replied. He taped his wand against the glass and it vanished silently and then he stood up. "I understand. I'm sorry for disturbing you, it won't happen again. Good night, headmaster," he added, formally.

"...On my desk...you'll find a vial," Severus told him when he reached the door.

"A headache reliever?" Remus frowned, confused as he turned back around.

"It is not for me," the headmaster enunciated carefully, "It...is yours."

"Mine?" the werewolf stated, "What is it?"

"Not a headache potion."

"The Wolfsbane?" Remus breathed and Severus nodded minutely, "You made it for me? Why?"

"Out, wolf," Severus commanded.

"Thank you," Remus said, genuinely, "I wasn't expecting you to..."

"Go!"

"Alright," he smiled, "Alright. I'll go. Thank you for the potion, Severus. I'll see you at breakfast, I hope," he said before he left.

Chapter 20: 24th October 1998

Draco and Narcissa: Imprisoned

24th October 1998

At one point in his life, the Malfoys' were perhaps the closest thing to family that Severus had ever had. Lucius had been a friend and a protector of sorts to him at Hogwarts and certainly he'd been the one to vouch for Severus when he'd been brought before the Death Eaters. Severus had even been made Draco's godfather when he had been born and as such, he'd felt a strong need to protect the boy. He'd wanted the child to learn that he didn't need to follow in his father's footsteps but in the end, Draco had been left with no choice.

With Lucius now in Azkaban for the foreseeable future and his wife and son's reputations completely ruined, Severus had done all he could to protect them. Both were living under the constant watch of the Ministry and were wandless, as were many such families of the Death Eaters.

They'd been fortunate that the witches and wizards in charge of their case were somewhat sympathetic to their situation. It also helped that Narcissa had made no secret of the fact that she had lied to Voldemort and thus, saved Harry Potter's life. Yes, their ancestral manor home was off limits to them and they were living in conditions that they themselves would have left for their house elves, but they were alive.

It was early in the morning, when Severus was shown into a small, grimy sitting room by a monosyllabic Auror in which Narcissa and Draco were residing. It clearly wasn't what they were used to but their complaints had long since fallen of deaf ears. It was cold, it was dark and it was quite, quite horrid.

"Severus," Narcissa greeted him with a tired smile. "Thank you for coming," she said, gesturing for him to sit opposite her. While she at least made an effort to be welcoming, Draco seemed lost in though as he stared out at the morning rain as it dripped down the mullioned window. "Draco," she turned to her son but got no reply so she closed her eyes and sighed.

"He is...unchanged?" Severus asked, regarding his godson with dark eyes.

"...Worse," she admitted.

Draco didn't seem to care that he was being discussed whilst still in the room, he didn't seem to show much interest in anything anymore and his mother despaired. "He hasn't eaten in two days now," Narcissa remarked, "I...I don't know what to do, Severus. There's no one I can turn to and there's nothing medically wrong with him. If there was then the Aurors," she spat the word, "Would have to do something but otherwise they refuse to."

"He doesn't speak?"

"Not much."

"Does he sleep?"

"Very little."

"Less than you?" he asked, shrewdly and she nodded, reluctantly.

Severus took his wand from his sleeve and ran a silent diagnostics spell on the silent wizard.

"Well?" Narcissa asked.

"It confirms nothing more or less than what you have told me; malnutrition, dehydration and sleep deprivation," he replied.

"Is there a...a potion he can take to..."

"That would imply that he would drink it and were that the case he could not be dehydrated," Severus said, standing to kneel before Draco. He gently moved the boy's chin from one side the other as he stared into the boy's eyes.

"...No..." Draco muttered suddenly and forced his eyes shut, "Don't...please..."

"Then speak and I won't need to," Severus retorted.

"Severus..." Narcissa said, uncertainly.

"Why won't you eat?" the headmaster asked his godson.

"...Not hungry."

"Why won't you sleep?" he asked.

"...Not tired."

"Your eyes say otherwise," Severus said, standing up and moving so that he was blocking the view from the window which had had the boy so transfixed.

"...I'm fine..." Draco muttered back.

"Then stand up," the headmaster said but Draco shook his head. "Because you cannot, foolish boy," he lamented and stormed over to the door. He wrenched it open and glared at one of the two Aurors standing there. "Bring in some food...unless you wish for your charges to starve," he ordered, then slammed the door closed again. "You will eat, Draco," Severus said to him.

"I don't want to. I'm not hungry," be said, his voice still horse and rough.

"I didn't ask for your opinion."

"Please...sir...please just...go," Draco grumbled, curling in on himself in his chair, "I don't want..."

"Draco," Narcissa cried, leaping up and kneeling in front of her son. "Draco, please...you must eat. Severus has risked much just by finding us and it would be a poor way to repay his efforts by..."

"I'm just...I'm not hungry, mother," he reiterated, weakly. He shivered and pulled the moth eaten blanket tightly around his thin frame and Severus scowled.

The headmaster aimed his wand at the unlit fireplace and it roared to life with bright, warm flames. He then transfigured the threadbare blanket into a much thicker, warmer throw and even the worn chair seemed more comfortable to Draco once his godfather was through.

There was a knock at the door and Severus dropped one of the plates of food delivered by the disgruntled Auror, onto Draco's lap. "Eat," he ordered. He gave the other plate to Narcissa and then he wordlessly set to work on the rest of the room. The thick layers of dust vanished, the burnt out candles which hadn't been replaced in months were suddenly new and lit. The grimy windows were cleaned, the mold covered walls were scrubbed and the broken lamps around the room were fixed.

Narcissa graciously bowed her head to him when he was through and she sat down in front of the fire. They'd had been forbidden even from lighting a fire since they were considered little more than prisoners and prisoners didn't get much in the way of comfort. Whatever comfort she could find, like the pathetic blanket and the only few cushions in their rooms, she gave to her son.

Severus left them for a moment, no doubt so that he could clear up the remaining rooms; their bedrooms and a rather small bathroom and then he returned.

"Draco," he began when he saw that the food he'd given to his godson was untouched. "I thought I told you to eat," he said.

"I can't."

"And why not?" the man asked, exasperated.

"I...just...can't. Last time I tried I..."

"Here," Severus said, handing the boy a small vial from his robes. "A stomach calming draught. Drink it. You cannot keep your food down because you're malnourished, this will help," he explained, knowingly.

"Thanks," Draco whispered, taking the vail and drinking its contents. His mother practically glowed with happiness at the sight. "Professor...why didn't you...why didn't you come sooner?" the boy asked him a minute later.

"Draco..." Narcissa began, "Severus couldn't. You know that. I've explained..."

"They wouldn't even let me write to you. I can't see father. We can't even leave this building."

"He didn't even know where we were until yesterday," his mother told him. "I wrote to him last night and I don't know just what exactly he did to persuade the Ministry to allow him to come here, but he's here to help you."

"You...didn't know...that we were here?"

"Your whereabouts was a closely guarded secret."

"Oh."

"I'm told...that it was for your protection," the headmaster said in disgust, looking around at what had once been their squalid living conditions. "What exactly have you learned?" he asked.

"About?" Narcissa asked.

"Everything. Anything."

"Precious little," she answered. "They tell us nothing and we are 'allowed' the Prophet once a week...though we both know just how useful that is."

"I thought..." Draco began, shakily, "It said that you...were killed. Then you weren't killed. I thought...maybe he did it because I..."

"The Dark Lord," Severus said, calmly, "Did indeed attempt to kill me. But not because of you," he said, choosing to disregard the details of the Hallows.

"...I'm so sorry, Uncle Sev," Draco cried, folding his arms on his knees and burying his face in them. "I knew I shouldn't have...I knew it was all wrong, but...and father's in Azkaban...and he tried to kill you because I..." he said, his voice muffled slightly.

"Draco," Severus began with a deep sigh. He regarded his godson with nothing short of regret in his dark eyes. For as long as he'd known the boy, he'd tried to convince Lucius that his son didn't need to follow on his footsteps and take the Mark, and he'd failed. "Listen to me," he said, "I expected to die by his hand long before you were involved. Whatever you've been told...whatever you hear...I was a spy, not for the Dark Lord, but for Dumbledore, that is the truth."

"But why would you..."

"I had my reasons" Severus said, simply.

"If the...if he'd have found out," Draco shivered though not from the cold this time, "You'd have...he would have...he didn't tolerate...traitors."

"No, he did not."

"Then why risk..."

"One day, perhaps, you'll understand why," Severus said, simply.

"I understand not wanting to...to follow him," Draco confessed quietly, "But...I don't understand why...how you could even spy...on him. And we never knew. Father doesn't know?"

"Perhaps he does. Despite what people think...word travels fast in Azkaban."

"...They should've sent me there," Draco muttered. "It's my fault...Dumbledore died. It's my fault that..."

"No," the headmaster stopped him from speaking. "You had no choice in any of this," he said, grasping the younger man's branded forearm, gently. "Lucius chose this, I chose this; you did not. You knew from the start that this...is not something to be coveted."

"But I still..."

"What else could you have done?" Severus asked him, "They would have killed you and your parents if you had refused, you know that."

"But it's my fault that you had to..."

"I am capable of making my own decisions. You didn't force me to do anything. What happened that night was planned. Albus knew what you'd been ordered to do and he was dying anyway. I did what I had to do to gain the Dark Lord's complete trust. I did it because Albus asked me to and I will not watch you disregard all my work in protecting you. Now for the last time, eat!"

"...Yes, sir," Draco muttered stunned and finally, slowly, he began to eat.

"You will of course, be permitted to write to me from now on," Severus said, confidently.

"How exactly did that...Phoenix...know where to find us?" Narcissa asked, "It was a rather odd choice of messenger for...people like us."

"Fawkes...has his uses," the headmaster replied.

A Phoenix could breech practically any barrier and once he'd been able to discover where Draco and Narcissa were, Severus had sent the bird and it had returned with such a pleading reply that he'd ended up storming the Ministry and demanding the right to visit them.

"I see," the woman mused, furrowing her brow. "Severus...I...I know my husband would see what you did as a betrayal...for a while so did I. You always seemed the most loyal of us all."

When she'd first read of the extraordinary circumstances by which he'd survived, and lived for the last two decades, she'd been angry. Of course the witch had been angry. She'd learned about the things he'd through the papers and he'd not been allowed to see them at all. While Severus was, in theory, a free man despite his past actions, they were under house arrest and taken from the fine world in which they had lived their whole lives. But time had put things into perspective for them. Narcissa's anger had faded into weariness and Draco's fear had warped into self hatred and disillusionment.

"You've always been there for us. You're family, Severus," she added.

Lucius had never been so forthright about such things as being 'family' with a half blood. While he had practically made sure of it by making the man godfather to his son and heir, he'd always made sure that Severus knew that he was 'second rate' in terms of blood purity. It had been kept a secret from everyone that Draco's godfather was a half blood. They couldn't disgrace the Malfoy name in public, naturally.

"And you're all we've got left now," Narcissa continued. "I'm told...that's it's unlikely that Lucius will ever be released. He pleaded guilty to everything so that we'd...and I can't even see him," she sighed.

"I...will do what I can," Severus said, quietly.

"I don't expect you to," she shook her head, "You don't need to do anything further for us. You've done more than enough."

"I didn't know," he said, "That this place was...When I was told that you were hidden for your protection I thought...well, clearly I expected too much of the Ministry."

"We are the losing side, Severus," Narcissa replied, grandly, "We were lucky the first time. Our luck ran out, that's all," she sighed. "But...I read...that you were awarded an Order of Merlin," the woman remarked after a moment and he grimaced.

"Is it true?" Draco asked.

"Sadly, yes," the headmaster muttered.

"And...you're still headmaster?"

"I am."

"So...you're...they're not going to...send you to Azkaban too, are they?"

"Despite my best efforts, it appears unlikely."

"Oh...well...good," the young wizard nodded. "I erm...were the seventh years allowed to go back to school for another year, as well?" he asked and Severus nodded. "But...I...I can't, can I?

"If you wish to, it's not to late..."

"I...don't think I should," Draco winced.

"Then what is it that you want to do?" Severus asked him.

"Well, father always said I should..."

"I didn't ask what Lucius wanted you to do, I asked what you wanted to do."

"I...I don't really know. But I won't be able to do anything anyway, so what's the point in thinking about it?"

"You'd rather stay here for the rest of your life?" Severus asked, raising an eyebrow.

"I don't think I have a choice," Draco said, sounding resigned to that fact.

"Draco," Severus scowled at him and the boy relented.

"Alright...I want...to leave, to travel, but there's no way I'd be allowed to..."

"You want to travel?" the headmaster clarified.

"...Yes, I do."

"Where?"

"...Anywhere."

"Very well," Severus nodded once in understanding. "Might I suggest that you start this travel plan of yours by eating and sleeping?" he suggested and Draco gave a small smile.

"...They won't let me go anywhere, you know," he replied.

"We'll see," Severus said, enigmatically before he stood up. He made his way over to the door again but then he spoke without turning back to face them. "One more thing...should the time come for you to be released from the Ministry's custody...I am...uncertain as to whether or not you would be allowed to return to Malfoy Manor straight away, if at all. You've seen my house, Narcissa. It could be considered worse than this by your standards, but the wards there by far surpass anything these Aurors are capable of conjuring. Provided that you are released...and have nowhere to go...I cannot promise you luxury, but it will be secure. However, I need you to be patient. It could...take some time."

"I assure you, as a mother, I am well versed in patience. And...if such a time were to come," Narcissa began, "Then I'd be exceedingly grateful, of course."

Severus only nodded silently before he left, glaring at the Aurors again for good measure.

A moment after he closed the door behind him, Narcissa swiftly followed him. The Aurors at the door were fast on her heels and one grabbed her arm while the other brandished his wand. Her reflex of reaching for her own wand was pointless.

"Mrs. Malfoy, you've been warned already, you're not to..." one of them began but Severus had his own wand at the man's throat in an instant.

"Lower your wand," the headmaster hissed slowly at one of them and then he turned to the other. "And you...remove your hand," he ordered the second.

"This is for your protection...headmaster," the first Auror, a rather large, unhappy looking man growled back at him.

"The lady is unarmed and half starved," Severus retorted. "And I am not in the habit of repeating myself," he warned them.

Reluctantly, they backed off but they stood on either side of the grimy, narrow corridor, not taking their eyes of either Severus or Narcissa.

"Was that wise?" he asked her.

"I needed to talk to you...privately," she said, shrugging elegantly, seeming unperturbed by the actions of the Aurors.

"I'd hardly call this...private," Severus replied, narrowing his eyes at their audience.

"Without Draco," Narcissa specified.

"Why?"

"Severus, I want to make it clear to you," she began, moving closer to him in a futile attempt not to be overheard by the Aurors. "I want my son to be your first priority in whatever attempts you are able to make. Anything that you require, money...truly anything, the Malfoy fortune is at your disposal. Just...get my son out of here."

"I...can make no promises, you understand?"

"I'm aware of that," she sighed, "But he doesn't carry Lucius' crimes...or mine. If...nothing can be done for us, then at least save him."

Whatever else could be said of Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy, Severus had always been certain that they loved their son. They were vain, spoilt, racist, arrogant beyond belief, but their son was the most treasured thing in the world to them. At times that had perhaps done Draco more harm than good, but it didn't make it any less true. He'd never had parents that had loved him so the care that these two very flawed people showed for their son, puzzled him greatly. If they could love their son, irrespective of their faults, why couldn't his own?

"I have very little influence at the Ministry," Severus said, "But I will do all I can."

"...Thank you, Severus," she nodded, smiling at him.

The next morning, after the first decent nights' sleep he'd had in weeks, Draco found a stack of book as tall as he was waiting for him by the still, magically burning fireplace and a very smug looking phoenix standing beside them. The books ranged from wizarding travel guides to defence and potions books but most of them had been annotated and scribbled in by a very familiar handwriting, he noticed happily.

A.N. I always figured that Snape favoured Draco more than he needed to if it was just because he was the son of another Death Eater and it was just for appearances sake. There were others at Hogwarts who were the children of Death Eaters too and he didn't really favour them as much as he did Draco so I gave him a reason to.

Chapter 21: 28th November 1998

Lucius: Imprisoned

28th November 1998

Severus had been to Azkaban before, both as a visitor and as a prisoner. After the end of the first war, Dumbledore hadn't been able to prevent him being sent there along with several other known Death Eaters. It had taken a month before the aged headmaster had been able to get his spy freed and for a month, the old man had been worried sick. Severus had made sure not to let Albus know just how he'd been treated for that month and even then his Occlumency shields had been powerful enough to repel the man, but he didn't doubt that Albus had known anyway. The man wasn't clueless about these things.

For that month, Severus had hardly been given food or water. He'd been in total isolation in a cell with one small window which was no bigger than a standard cauldron. Well, not total isolation. His gaoler for that month had been a Dementor who had prowled his cell, night and day, barely letting him sleep at all. To survive, he'd had to force everything to the back of his mind and become as blank as parchment. It had taken no small effort on Albus part after his release to bring him back.

Unlike muggles, wizards had no 'human rights' when it came to prisoners, especially when it came to Death Eaters. Dementors were given free reign to do as they pleased and even with Minister Shacklebolts' attempts to reform the prison, it was still a hell hole. It was no better than a death sentence to all within its walls, whether that was slow or not depended on the Dementors.

The prison fortress now had Aurors as guards as well but there simply weren't enough of them. They were outnumbered by the Dementors by at least ten to one and it would take some time before things changed.

With the last of the Death Eaters only recently dealt with, the Ministry was no longer able to deny Severus' request to see Lucius Malfoy. And so, he was being escorted through the halls of the fortress, listening to the moans and groans of the prisoners.

Lucius had barely survived his first stint in Azkaban and Severus was doubtful that the man's sanity would remain intact were he ever to be released again. But it was simply impossible for the man to be released so soon. There was simply nothing that he could do.

When Severus entered the cell he noticed that there was no Dementor in sight. He also noticed just how terrible Lucius Malfoy looked. The blonde wizard had certainly appeared worse off after his first sentence but now he looked positively dead. One would think the man was indeed dead were it not for his eyes blinking monotonously.

"Lucius?" Severus narrowed his eyes.

After a minute, the exhausted, pale eyes turned to him and the despondent expression on the haggard face morphed into one of pure loathing.

"Oh...it's you," the man said, his voice haggard and rough, "I heard you died."

"Surprise," Severus muttered back, sarcastically.

"I also heard...that you were a traitor. The famous traitor who fooled the Dark Lord. Come to gloat, have you? To mock?"

"Always so melodramatic," Severus rolled his eyes. Clearly news does indeed travel in a prison, just as he'd suspected...and remembered.

"And you...tell me that none of it is true. Tell me that you didn't betray us...and I might believe it."

"It would be a lie," the headmaster stated.

"...I see...If you hadn't betrayed us all...maybe we wouldn't be in here. I wouldn't be in here! We could have won! We may be wandless...but there's more than one prisoner in here...old friend...who wouldn't be glad to do away with you."

"I'm flattered."

"Traitor," Lucius hissed.

"Your wife," Severus began, emotionlessly, "Sends her regards...and regrets that she cannot be here in my stead."

"Narcissa...what have you done with..."

"She and Draco are safe."

"...Why should I trust anything you say to me? You lied to us all for years!" Lucius yelled with energy that Severus hadn't thought the man had.

"Certainly, you don't need to listen to a word I say," Severus said, turning back to the door, "However, if that is the case then I've wasted my time and I'll leave..."

"No!" the wizard exclaimed, "No, Severus, no...tell me. Tell me what has happened to them!"

Severus regarded his once regal 'friend' with dark eyes before he spoke again. "You have been told nothing?" he asked.

"Not about them."

"As I said...they are safe. Your...admissions...helped to save them both from Azkaban but they too are wandless and under guard in a Ministry appointed safe house. I...have done what I can for them."

"You?" Lucius frowned, confused and Severus nodded.

"In time...I believe they will be released. Perhaps it will take even longer for their wands to be returned but I doubt that your manor will be open to them for many years."

"...You...have tried to...help them? After everything you did?"

"I am Draco's godfather," Severus stated after taking a deep breath.

"And you killed Dumbledore for him! You went so far to deceive us all!"

"It was necessary. Your wife would agree with me...to a point. She did lie to the Dark Lord herself and for that you should be grateful. Had she not, she'd surely be in a cell adjoining your own."

"Narcissa...always understood. She may not have took the Mark herself but she understood."

"She had no choice but to understand," Severus said, "You told her nothing of the cause until after you were married."

"...She understood," the man reiterated, weakly. "I thought...you did too. I vouched for you. You betrayed us all. The Dark Lord. Me..." Maybe it was the thought that one of few friends he'd ever really had, one who wasn't simply after his money; the personal betrayal that stung worse than the greater one to Lucius.

"I did what was necessary."

"So did I...but, Severus...why? Merlin knows...I'd have done anything to keep them safe. But our cause...what we wanted...what we fought for was...right."

"You still think so? Then why did you flee the battle? I'm told that the three of you fled Hogwarts before it ended."

"...I never claimed to be courageous," the broken man admitted.

"You're a coward, Lucius," Severus told him.

"...Maybe so," the man nodded, "But it's better than being a traitor...In the Shack that night...I knew...I suspected...that I was leading you to your death," Lucius sighed, "But I did it anyway. If I hadn't...and if you'd died then...it would've been for the best. Then we wouldn't have known that you were..."

"Better dead than a known deserter?"

"...Yes."

"Even if this deserter is all your family has to protect them from the full wrath of the Ministry?"

"...Yes," Lucius repeated.

"If it would have saved your wife and son, you would have done the same."

"But it wouldn't have and you have no wife or child. You have no one. You never have. So why do it? The Dark Lord trusted you, favoured you. You were among the first he taught his own spells to..."

"And yet...for all that, he would have killed me," Severus stated.

"We are...were...his to discard as he saw fit," Lucius recited.

"Unless those people are you or your family. Not only are you a coward, you're a hypocrite."

"...I'm a husband and a father," the blonde wizard said, staring up to meet Severus eyes for the first time, "You're nothing."

"I am the one able to leave this cell," Severus replied, just as coldly.

"Then go," Lucius breathed.

"...I'll give your family your regards and tell them that you are well," Severus said, banging his hand against the door. "Goodbye, Lucius," he said before he stalked away.

Chapter 22: 15th September 2017

Potters and Malfoys

15th September 2017

A.N. I'm going to completely ignore anything that happens in Cursed Child. I know the basic plot, but I haven't read it or seen it and I don't intend to, so anything that ends up being remotely similar will be purely coincidental.

Severus sighed deeply for what felt like the thousandth time as he rested his elbows on his desk and his chin on his hand. He wasn't cut out for this aspect of being headmaster and yet here he was, practically watching history repeat itself right in front of him. He'd known for two weeks that this would happen and he'd tried his best to prevent it, discretely of course, but clearly he'd failed. He was never quite convinced that it was at all possible to succeed in this instance anyway.

"It wasn't my fault!" young Scorpius Malfoy declared, "He started it!"

"I did not!" Albus Potter retorted, just as loudly and indignantly as the other Slytherin student.

"Yes, you did! If you hadn't tripped me yesterday..."

"I didn't trip you! It was an accident!"

"Everyone was laughing at me! I had to do something," Scorpius said to Severus.

"No one was laughing!" young Albus retorted, "You fell over and I helped you up! I don't get what your problem is!"

"Both of you..." Slughorn, their head of house began but Severus spoke, ignoring him.

"I've had enough of Potters and Malfoys for one lifetime," he rubbed at his eyes with pale fingers. "If the next seven years are to be like this, then either you both leave or I do."

"But, sir!" Scorpius respectfully protested.

"Uncle Sev!" Albus wined at the same time.

"I should expel the pair of you," the headmaster declared, staring at them.

"Please, sir, my father..." Scorpius shook his head, frantically.

"Will be just as furious as I am, if not more so."

"Why can't he be here? Potter's dad's here! Why isn't mine! If he was here, then..."

"Professor Potter is here because he is a witness to what happened in the courtyard," Severus said, silencing the both of them.

"...Dad..." Albus began, nervously, looking over at his father who was stood to Severus' left.

"Don't look at me, young man," Harry shook his head, "I can't help you. I thought we'd settled this between you two already..."

"I don't care...what started this," Severus told the two students, interrupting Harry, "It will not continue."

"But I..."

"But he..."

"Enough," he hissed and they both nodded, silently. "You managed not only to endanger yourselves and those around you, but the courtyard itself. You damaged the fountain and broke three antique grotesques!"

"What's a...grotesque?" Albus asked, quietly.

"It's a gargoyle, you idiot," Scorpius muttered back.

"Silence!"

"Sorry," they both said simultaneously, standing up straight.

"There's a reason why first years don't learn such dangerous magic and you demonstrated it to the entire school! I wont ask where you learned those spells but the fact that you didn't have enough common sense to realise your stupidity makes me wonder why I agreed to be godfather to either one of you!"

Scorpius and Albus seemed to deflate further at Severus' harsh words and they exchanged a guilty look.

"If you were expecting leniency because of that, you'll be disappointed," he told them. "Fortunately for you, I am not your head of house," he said, suddenly standing up. "However, as headmaster, since you damaged the castle itself I am more than entitled to take points...50 each I think..."

"50!?" they both exclaimed.

"Be thankful it was not more."

"But, sir, everyone in Slytherin..." Albus began, indignantly.

"Will be sure to remind you of our house rules. You've clearly forgotten them already."

It was explained to Slytherins at the start of their time at Hogwarts that theirs was a proud house. They had many rules but chief among them was that under no circumstances did you publicly fight another Slytherin; rivalries between housemates was to be confined to the common room to keep up the public image of house unity at all costs. Anyone who broke that rule would be extremely unpopular. Of course, fighting in general was not to be encouraged, but Severus had been a Slytherin before he was a headmaster, and every one of his predecessors had been prejudice towards their house.

"I haven't forgotten them, sir, but he said..." Scorpius began.

"You do not, under any circumstances, publicly fight another student, let alone a Slytherin. You bring your grievances to your head of house or your prefects. You've been here less than a month and you've already disregarded that rule!"

"I didn't mean to, uncle Sev...I mean, sir," Albus stammered after a minute, "I know it was stupid but I was just...he just made me so angry..."

"Yeah..." Scorpius muttered.

"Anger is no excuse for stupidity," Severus told them, unsympathetically.

"No, sir," they both said.

"Having said that, I'm sure we'd be rather interested to know what it was that made the pair of you 'so angry'," the headmaster drawled.

"I erm...I don't really think..." Albus Severus began quietly.

"We've established that," Severus said, "But it wasn't a request, Mr. Potter."

"But, I really don't want..."

"I don't care, one of you will tell me before I have you both expelled."

"Please don't expel us!" Scorpius exclaimed.

"Then tell me..."

"He said you told him that you liked him better so you spent Christmas with them and lied to us about it!" Scorpius exclaimed, pointing angrily at his fellow Slytherin.

"Idiot," Albus muttered back to him and relieved only an angry glare in response.

"...Horace," Severus spoke suddenly, "I believe it would be best for you to return to your office. Both Mr. Potter and Mr. Malfoy will join you soon."

"Of course, headmaster," the man nodded and left without another word.

Severus then turned his attention to the students, both of whom, were looking at him, nervously. "Explain," he ordered them and they both started taking at once in rapid succession, each trying to be louder than the other. "Calmly," he added and they stopped.

"Erm...well, sir...I can't really remember how we got to talking about it...but we were talking about the new broom I'd had last Christmas and how much better it was than Potter's rubbish old..." he trailed off when Severus glared at him and with a nervous cough, he continued, "Anyway, Potter heard me when I said you were gonna be there for Christmas dinner..."

"No you didn't! You said he was there for Christmas dinner!" Albus Severus accused.

"I didn't!"

"You seriously expect me to believe that alone was enough to have the pair of you trying to hex one other into oblivion?" the headmaster asked in disbelief.

"It's true, I swear," Scorpius exclaimed.

"Please, sir, just tell that idiot," Albus glared back at the other student, "The truth. You weren't with us and I never said you were."

"I can't see why it matters to either of you where I was," Severus retorted, "Furthermore, I don't believe for a moment that this is what you were..."

"They both know where you were," Harry interjected.

"You cannot be falling for their charade," the headmaster said to him.

"...This may have happened before...in Diagon Alley last month," the man admitted.

"This same...argument?" Severus asked and Harry nodded. "Why?" he demanded, turning his attention to the children again.

"Why...what, sir?" Scorpius asked.

"I can think of at least a dozen different topics for a Malfoy and a Potter to argue about. I find it impossible to believe that you chose...this particular one."

"But it's true!" Albus exclaimed.

"I am many things, Mr. Potter, but I am not an idiot," Severus scoffed, "I expect you to tell me the truth, before I..."

"Please, Uncle Sev, I'm not lying," the boy said, sincerely.

"They really did argue about...this...before," Harry said to the headmaster.

"Is it really so difficult for you to believe that your godsons were fighting over you, Severus?" Albus' portrait smiled down at him.

"Be quiet," Severus hissed back at him, but this only made the old man smile even more. "I don't believe any of this for a moment..." he addressed said godsons, sternly.

"Sir, I swear..." Scorpius began, desperately, "I'll swear it on...my magic...yeah, I'll swear it on my magic if I have to..."

"Yeah, me too."

"That won't be necessary, boys, will it, headmaster?" the portrait said, quickly.

Every wizard knew that swearing truth on ones magic was dangerous. If you were lying, your own magic would attack you just to prove it. That's why no one did it. It's why people preferred to use Veritaserum. If the subject of your questioning killed himself in a stupid attempt to lie to you, then you'd never learn anything, would you? To swear such truth, you had to mean it and very few people rarely meant what they said.

"...No," Severus sighed after a moment. "Very well...you wish to know where I was last December...I was in Paris at the Annual Potioneer's Conference," he told the children.

"And you knew that," Harry said to his son.

"But I told him he wasn't with us. I never said..."

"Liar," Scorpius scowled.

"Enough," Severus sighed, closing his eyes. "I am not required to report my activities to you children however you were both fully aware of the fact that I was in France. So, why on earth did you feel the need to demolish the courtyard?"

"I'm...sorry, sir," Albus muttered, sheepishly, "I just...it sounds stupid but...he said...well, I just got angry when he said you liked him better because you're his grandad's friend and you're his dad's godfather and all my family's in Gryffindor except me and that just makes me a...a freak or something. I'm not even supposed to be in Slytherin. I know that, but..."

"And now, not only are you my acting gaoler, you're also a sorting hat, as well," Severus remarked, sarcastically.

"But you and Lucius Malfoy are...friends...right?" Albus Severus asked, shyly.

"...In a manner of speaking."

"But he," the boy glared over at Scorpio again, "Said you were his dad's godfather as well."

"Your point?"

"Well...if you were his dad's godfather and now you're his godfather, then..."

"I am not a 'thing' to be passed from one generation to another as a godfather," Severus rolled his eyes.

"No, sir," they both replied, hastily.

"Nor am I to be the subject of another one of your arguments."

"...No, sir," they said, reluctantly.

"I know better than expect the pair of you to shake hands and be done with it," he said, blinking accusingly across at his predecessors' rather smug portrait for a moment. "However, I will not tolerate another seven years of schoolboy rivalry...am I understood?"

"Yes, sir."

"You are both Slytherins and that is not up for debate," he said and they nodded. He then specifically to Albus Severus. "The rest of your family may indeed by Gryffindors but there is no shame in that. Personally, I think you'll find that you are more suited to the house of serpents because we think," he said and the boy snickered. "Although today, you both went far in disproving that," he added.

"...Sorry," they muttered again in unison.

"Now...your head of house, who fortunately for you is far more forgiving than myself, surely has some cauldrons for you to scrub and I have a courtyard to repair," he said, standing up.

The boy's nodded quickly and all but fled the room, pausing only to give him identical looks of apology before they left.

"Well, Severus, my boy, you should be honoured," Albus remarked cheerily when they were gone, "Your two young godsons are vying for your attention in spectacular fashion. You're quite the beloved relative."

"I'm not at all flattered," Severus replied, dryly.

"I really thought we'd settled this, honestly," Harry told him, "Otherwise, I wouldn't have..."

"I blame you for this," the headmaster said, simply.

"...Why?"

"You had children," Severus explained and Harry scoffed.

"It takes two, you know," he retorted, smirking.

"Your wife isn't here for me to blame," the older wizard said haughtily.

"Sure it's not just because you're scared of Ginny when she's mad? Weasley women can be pretty terrifying," Harry smiled, keeping his eyes on the headmaster as he walked away from his desk. "Want a hand with the courtyard?" he asked, innocently.

"Since it's your fault, yes," Severus answered.

"I'm not going to hear the end of this, am I?" Harry lamented, following the headmaster from the office.

Chapter 23: 16th April 2012

The Name: James

16th April 2012

James Potter II was an intelligent child, he was also very mischievous and energetic. He loved his family and his friends, he loved Quidditch, he was an enthusiastic ametuer Astronomer and he idolised the headmaster of Hogwarts whom he fondly referred to as 'Uncle Sev.' He'd picked up the moniker from Teddy Lupin and it seemed to have stuck just as it had with Draco Malfoy. Then along came Albus Severus, Scorpius Malfoy and then young Lilly Luna Potter and the name had caught on again and again and again. It seemed that the headmaster would never be rid of it.

Severus liked to think that he tolerated all of these children fairy well, at least as well as he was able to. But the trouble came not when the child called Albus Severus began to ask about his name, no, it came when James Potter began to act so like his grandfather and like Sirius Black.

You see, because James Potter II was so headstrong and mischievous, he got on rather well with his uncles Fred and George Weasley and he loved practical jokes. It made things difficult for Severus when he was around the boy. He just didn't know what to do. It was easy for all to see that the boy idolised him but that he was also confused by him.

Every year, Severus would send the children gifts but around the time of his eighth birthday, young James had begun to notice something that his parents had caught on to long before he himself had. Severus never called him by his name, he never said 'James', ever. So, he asked his parents why. He saw the strange look they gave each other but he couldn't understand it. So he asked again, but he didn't receive an answer. At least not one that he could comprehend.

He didn't know that his father would take matters into his own hands and talk with the headmaster himself about it.

After finishing his marking for the night, Harry journeyed up to the headmasters' office only to find the man himself staring out across the walkway to his office holding a small device in his hands. His original purpose was somewhat forgotten when faced with the rare object.

"Is that...a lunascope?" Harry frowned. "Where did you get it?" he asked.

Lunascopes were rather rare instruments now, few were known to exist and since they were so rare, they had become legendary. This particular one looked exceptionally old and it's value could be, for want of a better term, astronomical.

"Prince Manor," the man remarked, turning the small device over in his hand, "I found it."

"It's a family heirloom?"

"I suppose so," Severus shrugged a little before he held out his pale hand and offered it to Harry.

"What?" the younger professor asked, confused.

"It's...a gift," the headmaster said.

"For..." Harry trailed off.

"For...your son. It's his birthday soon."

"You're giving my soon-to-be eight year old son an antique lunascope that's worth...I don't even want to think about how much it could be worth..."

"He's been asking for one for years now," Severus remarked.

"Since he was five," Harry said, smiling, "I didn't know you knew that too. But...I've heard these things sell for thousands of galleons..."

"I'm aware of that," Severus said and gestured with dark eyes to the lunascope which he still held.

"You know I'm going home for his party on Saturday...you could...come with me and give it to him yourself. He'd love to see you. He always does."

"I'm..."

"You're busy," Harry nodded, sighing, "I figured."

Severus was always when it was time for birthdays or Christmas or any other kind of gathering. At first, Harry had honestly tried not to push the headmaster. But over the years it had begun to exasperate Harry. His children loved Severus but Severus himself was a difficult man. As his children grew, Harry feared that the man's reticence would distance them and that their idolisation would turn to resentment.

"James...he's noticed, you know?" Harry told him, suddenly.

"Noticed what?"

"That you never say his name. He keeps asking me why."

"...Does he, indeed?" Severus sighed, dropping his hand to his side.

"All the time now," Harry nodded, "And I never know what to say."

"How troublesome for you."

"You care about him, I know you do, just like you care for Albus and Lily and Scorpius. I know you're not...I know it's...difficult...and I understand. I do. But...he's...he's confused. He doesn't understand."

"What exactly...have you told him?"

"Nothing," Harry shook his head, "I don't want him to grow up thinking that the person he admires hates him for something that..."

"...I don't...hate the boy," Severus admitted, quietly as he leaned over the balcony and stared out at the nights' sky.

"You just hate his name, just like you hated me because I look like my father but I can't help the way I look. I named my son after him because he was my dad and he died saving my life. There's only so many times I can tell you that I understand why you hated him...and me. But James...my son...he's just a child," Harry said.

"...So was I," the headmaster whispered back.

"I know...but...what are you going to do when he starts school?" Harry asked.

"...I won't see him every day."

"You might end up seeing him more than you think...he's a lot like Fred and George. And he likes you. I wouldn't put it past him to cause trouble just to get sent to your office," the younger wizard smiled but Severus didn't seem at all amused. "He's young...but I think he'd understand if he knew..." Harry began, cautiously.

"No," Severus snapped, suddenly.

"But he..."

"No," the man repeated, sternly and Harry sighed.

"Alright," he relented, "I won't tell him anything."

"You should have listened to me. I told you, many years ago, not to involve me in your...family affairs," Severus added.

"You are family."

"...You should have listened," the man repeated.

"Well, I didn't," Harry shrugged, characteristically.

"If you had, your son wouldn't be left wondering why he has an 'uncle' that can't even bear to say his name."

"He'll find out why one day."

"Not from me."

"Other people know about...it."

"Well, if 'other people' know what's good for them, they'll keep their mouths shut," Severus retorted, dryly.

Chapter 24: 12th June 2006

Albus Severus Potter

12th June 2006

Over the years, Severus had become a regular attendant of the Annual Potioneer's Conference now that he actually had the time to travel and this year, the conference was in Germany. At the time that Albus Severus Potter was born, he was giving a lecture to an overcrowded theatre and by the time he returned to his hotel room he'd been delayed by several hours and the letter that had arrived in the early hours of the morning, wasn't read by its recipient until well after sunset that night.

Of course, as yet, he didn't know the name of the child, Harry's letter was very vague about it but it clearly stated that although the father wanted to see Severus, he didn't want the headmaster to rush. Instead he should finish his business at the conference, which of course, Severus found very 'gracious' of the younger wizard.

A few days later when the conference was disbanded for the year, Severus returned to England and apparated to the Potter's home. There he found a somewhat edgy Harry Potter and his much amused, though tired looking wife.

"You should have about half an hour before he wakes up," Ginny told Harry, "Good luck," she added before leaving them along in the comfortable living room.

"How was the conference?" Harry asked the older wizard quickly, before the man had a chance to say anything.

"Fine," Severus replied, monosyllabically as he sat in a chair by the fireplace.

He hadn't used to gravitate to the warmth as he did now but even on hot summer days, he felt the cold so he was at least a little grateful that the fire was lit. "How are the sleepless nights?" he asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Just great," the wizard retorted.

"What exactly am I..."

"Do you want a drink?" Harry asked him.

"No."

"Anything to eat?"

"I'd rather you told me what exactly it is I'm doing here," Severus said.

"What? I couldn't just ask you to come here for no reason?" Harry shrugged but scoffed when he was on the receiving end of a glare he knew very well. "Alright, I did have a reason. But before I tell you what it is, just know, it's all official and even if you don't agree, we're not going to change it so..." he trailed off when the dark glare intensified. "Right, sorry, well...we decided on a name for the baby."

"I should hope so."

"It's Albus," Harry told him.

"...Rather outdated, isn't it?" Severus remarked after a moment.

"Albus Severus Potter," Harry added.

"That...is not a good choice," the pale wizard grumbled.

"I think it's a good choice."

"It's terrible."

"I like it."

"Albus, I would tolerate but...no one...in their right mind...would give their child the name 'Severus'," Severus stated.

"Ginny agreed with me, she likes it too," Harry said.

"I'm told...that childbirth is quite an ordeal; she was not in her right mind. You, however, have no such excuse."

"You really like telling me that I'm crazy, don't you?"

"About as much as you enjoy giving me reasons to do so," Severus retorted and the younger wizard laughed.

"...Look," Harry began a minute later, much more seriously. "I'd erm...we'd really like you to be his godfather too...but if you don't want to...I'll understand. But I named him after you, after Dumbledore...he's only here because of both of you, so I won't change it."

"I've been a godfather before...and I wasn't particularly successful."

"A lot of people would disagree with you," Harry said. "Draco Malfoy and I may never be the best of friends...but considering everything that happened...I don't think he's a bad person. I think he was lucky to have you in his life. If he hadn't...who knows what might've happened," he explained but Severus still didn't look convinced. "I know he cares about you. A lot. And I know he trusts you. He could've wound up in Azkaban if it wasn't for you."

"I don't trust the Ministry...but I highly doubt they would have sent a child to Azkaban prison. Even then," the headmaster said, not at all convinced by his own words. He was as famous for his distrust of the Ministry as he was for his foul temper.

"They might've; legally he was an adult and the son of a Death Eater," Harry pointed out.

"Children...don't tend to like me," Severus remarked, "And your son won't be too fond of you once he knows who shares his name."

"I don't think so, and James loves you," Harry said and watched as the other wizard turned away from him.

Despite the fact that Snape had changed quite a bit over the years, he still didn't tend to deal with emotions like other people did and half the time, Harry never knew what approach to take when talking to him. He knew that fact that he'd named his first child after a man that had made Severus' school years so miserable, had to be a sore point for him. At some point, James Potter II would go to Hogwarts and if Severus was still headmaster, then he'd have another seven years with a boy bearing the same name as his childhood bully. No one would want that no matter how many years had passed.

"Then he's mad, just like his father," the man stated.

"What will it take to convince you that I'm perfectly sane?"

"...The boy won't thank you for this," Severus remarked a minute later, without answering Harry's sarcastic question.

"We'll see."

It was just under a month later that Severus received more shocking news; he was to be a godfather again...to another newborn named Scorpius Malfoy.

Chapter 25: 12th February 1999

Scars

12th February 1999

As the 'brightest witch of her age', Hermione Granger was very rarely confused but when she received a rather abrupt note asking her, yes 'asking' not 'demanding', to come to the headmasters' office that night, she admitted to being more than a little perplexed. Nevertheless, at precisely six o'clock she knocked on the door to the familiar office and jumped a little when it swung open abruptly by itself to slam rather violently against the wall behind it.

"Good evening, headmaster," she said, calmly as she walked into the room. She was rather proud of her composure when the door swung shut behind her and she didn't even flinch.

"Miss Granger," Snape gave an almost imperceptible incline of his head but didn't look up from a pile of papers on his desk. He was rather lazily dragging his elegant black quill over the papers as she approached his desk.

Silently, she sat down opposite him and waited until he set down his quill a few minutes later and pushed aside the papers he'd been signing.

"How are you, sir?" she asked, politely. She, like the Weasley's and Harry, and indeed a few other students like Luna and even Neville when he could muster the courage, had taken to asking him that particular question. At first he hadn't known what to say so he hadn't said anything at all but on rare occasion he did actually answer them.

He stared cross at her with piercing dark eyes but the young witch didn't falter as he stared back. "I...am well," he replied after a moment. "And yourself?" he asked.

"I'm good, thank you," she smiled.

"Pleasantries aside," he gave a brief shake of his head and stood up, using his pale hands to push himself up from his chair as though it took a great deal of effort. "I want you to read this," he said, picking up a closed book from his cluttered desk. He flicked through the pages before he found what he was looking for and held it out for her to take.

Curious, Hermione gently took the book from his hands and quickly read through the page he had specifically found. "W...where did you..." she muttered quietly after a moment.

"That is not important. What is important is that this will work," he told her, "There is your proof."

"Okay...then why? How did you even know about...about my scar?"

"Arthur told me," Severus answered and she nodded in understanding.

"And he asked you to..."

"He did no such thing," Snape said, "In fact, he requested that I do the opposite."

"Then why..." she asked but he didn't answer her. "I though it was...permanent. It was made with a cursed blade, I..."

"Bellatrix Lestrange had an extensive knowledge of curses and dark magic...however...so do I. I'll admit, it took perhaps longer than I would have liked to find the right spell to remove the scar. But...the spell requires a certain level of trust and I realise that you have no reason to trust me..."

"Of course I trust you," Hermione furrowed her brow at him. "How could I not?" she asked when he raised an eyebrow at her in disbelief.

"Show me," Snape after a moment of deliberation, "Show me this scar."

Taking a deep breath, Hermione folded back the sleeve of her school blouse and unwound the bandage she kept wrapped around the corse, raised welts made by Bellatrix.

"Why the bandage?"'

"It...it bleeds sometimes."

"Hmmm, I've seen worse," the man remarked, examining her arm without touching it as she held it out for him.

"I know...I realise it's not that bad but..." she sighed. The memory it evoked was worse than the word that it spelled on her skin.

"I don't expect this hurt, but perhaps you should sit," he said, directing her to his chair behind the desk.

"I appreciate the effort you must've put in, sir, but you really didn't need to..."

"Sit down, Miss Granger," he rolled his eyes and she smiled.

"Are there any...side effects? To you?"

"None," he lied convincingly.

"Well, could I just read the rest of the book before I..." she reached over at the desk for the book but it vanished before she could reach it.

"I don't have time to humour you. I have read it, cover to cover. You say you trust me, then do so. After this I will be leaving for the continent for a meeting and I will be too busy."

"So now or never?" she surmised.

"Quite so."

"That isn't fair."

"Neither is life," he retorted.

"I can't believe it's without any repercussions. It's Dark Magic, surely there's a consequence to removing it..."

"To the untrained, perhaps, but I'm no stranger to Dark Magic."

"...Even so, sir..."

"You're welcome to leave," Severus said, crossing his arms.

He knew he was being perhaps a little too heavy handed, but if she had a chance to learn about the spell, she'd never agree and she'd be stuck with the mark forever. He wasn't totally without feeling no matter what people thought of him. He saw it as one of his many failures in protecting the students, and ever one to try and correct a mistake, Severus had requested to visit the library in Malfoy Manor. With Kingsley seemingly willing to grant him almost any request he made, it had been easy to trawl through the books that Lucius collected only for their prestige. The man never read them.

"I can't risk anything..."

"Nothing will happen to you."

"I meant something happening to you. You've already done so much for us and now..."

"I don't care for sentimentality," he grimaced. "Now kindly sit down," he said, taking his wand from his sleeve.

Despite her reluctance, Hermione sat on the headmaster's chair and watched as the older wizard leaned over her and seemed to stare at her as she held out her arm. When she nodded, and only after that, he gently held her wrist and rested the tip of his wand against the centre of the scars.

"Are you really sure there's no..."

"Quiet," he grumbled back as the scar began to emit a faint golden light.

He hadn't said anything, nor had be moved his wand, he simply stared at the scars as they emitted the faint light and it lasted for well over a minute.

When he relented, he more or less fell back against the stone arch and his wand arm fell limo against his side as he released the breath he'd been holding.

"Professor?" Hermione leapt up and rushed to help steady him but she shook her off and stood with seemingly no effort at all.

"Congratulations, Miss Granger," he announced, "The scar is gone."

"What..." she frowned, glancing at her arm and gasping when she saw that he was right. There wasn't even a trace that a scar had been there at all. "You're right...it is gone," she murmured in disbelief. "Oh, thank you, professor!" she couldn't help but exclaim as she threw her arms around the taciturn wizard who subsequently froze in shock.

"...Miss Granger...kindly stop imitating Devil's Snare..." he managed to speak after a moment.

"...Of course...I'm sorry," Hermione replied, sheepishly, "It's just, I never thought...thank you, professor."

He nodded simply and then the door opened seemingly of its own accord. "I believe not even the seventh years can prowl the corridors at night. Do try not to be seen. I hear the headmaster is not a lenient man," he remarked, moving back behind his desk.

"I don't think he's so bad," she replied, smiling.

"Flattery will gain you nothing. Goodnight, Miss Granger," Severus rolled his eyes at her tenacity.

"Good night, headmaster," Hermione replied before she left.

"Miss Granger is very intelligent, Severus," Albus' portrait remarked when the young woman was gone.

"I thought you had sworn off talking to me until I 'came to my senses'," Severus scowled.

"I am warning you, my boy. She will not be best pleased when she learns what you did."

"She can't change it," he replied, morosely and slowly began to remove his outer robe and his frock coat. He placed them over the back of his desk chair and then folded back the sleeve of his while shirt to stare at his forearm. "And neither can I," he remarked, grimacing as very faint lines began to appear.

Slowly, the lines began to draw blood as they became more deeply edged in his skin and over the course of the next ten minutes, the headmaster was adorned with the same wound which had once been on Hermione's arm. It had taken longer than he'd have liked and each line that had etched itself into his skin had felt like torture. Of course, he was used to being in pain but he could imagine how horrid it would have been for the young woman however brave she was.

"You wouldn't have shown her the book if you didn't want her to find out," Dipped remarked from his portrait.

"There isn't another book in the country that will tell her anything," Severus hissed as the wound continued to bleed. "And no wizard alive knows this magic," he added.

"You underestimate her."

Hermione couldn't help but feel that she'd been a little too hasty in agreeing and, two weeks later, when she finally discovered just how the headmaster had removed the scar, she realised that he was a far better liar than she had given him credit for. They had both rather underestimated each other.

Chapter 26: 25th December 1998 Part 2

The Dark Mark's True Curse

Late 25th December 1998 Part 2

In the last minutes of Christmas night, Severus strode through the miserable walls of Azkaban. It had been about a month since his last visit and of course, nothing at all had changed. The Aurors were just as disgusted with the mere sight of him. The Dementors were just as hideous and vile. And Lucius Malfoy was just as angry, although his heart didn't really seem to be in his insults anymore. But then he had been alone for a month with only Dementors and vitriolic Aurors for company. Perhaps he was just glad of someone, anyone else, to talk to.

"I've been reminded...more than once today...that Festive cheer does one good," Severus drawled in lieu of a greeting as the door barred shut loudly behind him.

"...Severus..." Lucius hissed at him.

"I can't say I agree with them," the wizard remarked, "And by the looks of things, neither can you."

"Come to gloat again?"

"Perhaps later, Luci," Severus said, reusing an old nickname he hadn't used in years; when they had once been friends. He had to admit, he did rather miss those years.

"...Bastard!" the emaciated, pale haired wizard barred his fists which were chained to the wall. THe chains were more a primate display of barbarism than a magical necessity as the walls were reinforced to prevent magic. It was a far more effective psychological tool, though.

Severus could see the strong, black Dark Mark on Lucius' forearm and he could see the man flinch when the snake moved. It could've just been general aches and pains, the man was chained to the wall, but Severus knew better.

"The Mark," he began, "It's been months...but it's getting worse. Surely you feel it too."

"So what if I do?" Lucius scoffed, "I'm a dead man anyway. It doesn't particularly matter how it'll happen, does it?"

"You listen to me, you pompous arse," Severus growled, grabbing his friend by the throat and forcing him back against the stone wall.

Naturally there was no one who would interrupt and prevent the violence, no one cared.

"You're alive! Do you have any idea how much that means to Cissa and Dragon?!" he demanded, using their nicknames too in the hope that it would mean something to Lucius.

"Show them some respect you half breed," Lucius said, recovering from his shock at hearing his fond pet names for his family.

"This half breed is the reason you're still breathing! If it weren't for me, you'd have been given away to the Dementors as their play thing of the month. They made mincemeat out of Rookwood and Rodolphus Lestrange can't even remember his own name now. Is that what you want?"

Lucius looked away but his fear of the Dementors was clearly evident on his face.

"There's nothing we can do," the prisoner shook his head, "We all know it. Our Lord died in battle and we're to join him. We all agreed."

"Would you show such little regard for Draco's life, I wonder?"

"It's happening to Draco?!" Lucius exclaimed, shrugging off Severus' loose grip on his neck.

"No. You and I both know that he was never loyal."

"...Too scared," the man remarked.

"Too clever," Severus said, knowing that was what his old friend had meant. "He has more brains than both of us and we gave him poor examples to follow. He was given no choice in taking the Mark but at the very least it won't kill him."

"Does he know?"

"I believe your wife may have told him something of it but not all I don't think. He's concerned for you enough as it is. But he'll find out eventually."

"When Death Eaters start dropping like flies, you mean?" Lucius sneered.

"Yes."

"Those are our brothers and sisters!"

"Who care as little for you as you do for them. Don't play me for a fool."

"Which one of us will die first, do you think?" Lucius asked. "It's supposed to drive us mad first, remember? If we don't kill ourselves after that, we'll be torn to pieces by the Mark to join the Dark Lord. I imagine he'll have some...choice words for you."

"And for you, no doubt. You failed him in the end. You were out of favour. You fled Hogwarts before the battle was over. You know how he treats cowards," Severus retorted.

"...You first."

Severus sighed heavily and took a step back. There was simply no taking to Lucius when he was like this. But Severus was tired of fighting. He'd been fighting for two decades and he wanted it to stop. If he was to die by his own Dark Mark it was going to be after he'd put things right with someone he'd once called friend.

"I didn't do what I did simply to piss you off, you bloody great moron," Severus swore.

More often an not when he was angry just lately, he reverted back to old habits now that he didn't really have a reason not to. Swearing like a sailor had been one of his father's favourite past times and when the mood took him, Severus could shock even Remus with his language; a man who'd lived in some of the worst possible places a person could imachine simply because of his condition. This was tame by comparison.

"Ah...now that brings back memories," Lucius chuckled, darkly, "It's your inner northerner, Severus, I suppose all those lessons could only go so far after all."

He was a northerner, or at least he was considered one by a southerner, and he wasn't exactly ashamed of it. He had an accent, more so when he was young, before Narcissa and Lucius had taken an interest in him and started to shape him into the perfect pure blood wizard. Let it not be said that they hadn't done a rather good job.

"It doesn't matter anymore, does it?" Severus asked, his accent seeping through a little. Now it was a rather odd mix of north and south as sometimes happened to people who spent large quantities of their time in another part of the country. "There's no one left to impress," he said.

"As long as Draco is alive..." Lucius exhaled, sinking back against the wall.

"What do you think will happen to him if you die?"

"He'll live."

"No doubt, but as what?"

"You actually care?"

"Of course I care! I'm his godfather!"

"...I can feel it...burning every night," Lucius said, gesturing to his Mark. "I didn't really notice at first. But it got worse. I didn't expect it to take this long to start actually causing real pain...as opposed to a little shock now and then. Of course, I'd rather have neither if given the choice though. I'd rather hoped it was all nonsense. I'd never really thought it was real...even after everything I've see no him do," he remarked, "It didn't happen all those years ago when he first..."

"He wasn't truly dead then...and none of us assumed that this...curse...was real. People used to laugh about it as I recall."

"...We all thought it was just a rumour. I thought, well, most of us, thought that Bellatrix had...come up with it to scare the initiates. She did love causing a scene, didn't she? Who knew that she was actually telling the truth," Lucius scoffed.

"Who else could design a curse that would still work even after the caster was dead? He was...more gifted in the Dark Arts than any wizard has ever been."

"And he wants us dead even from beyond the grave," Lucius replied. "We have no chance in stopping him. We couldn't when he was alive, Merlin help us now he's gone."

Severus turned to stare out of the tormentingly small, arrowslit window which offered a cruel glimpse of the sky designed to drive the prisoners mad with longing.

"I don't want to die, Severus," Lucius confided. His anger from earlier and from last month seemed to have faded away with little effort. "But there's nothing we can do. You and I...and all the others...I don't know how long it'll take...but we're all going to die. For some...it might be quick, for the weaker ones, I suppose. I'm hardly in a position to judge power anymore. I'm a prisoner. I hardly get fed and I'm tired. I might be the first to go."

Severus narrowed his eyes out at the moon which hovered serenely above the fortress and clenched his fist at the stone beneath his palm.

"You...might be one of the last. You were one of his favourites for a reason...you're not a weak wizard," Lucius said, "But eventually..." he trailed off.

"I know," Severus nodded slightly.

"So...is that what you came here for? So we can feel sorry for each other?"

"Hardly," he scoffed, turning back to the other wizard. "If anything were to happen to you, Narcissa would kill me in a manner far worse than the Mark ever could. You married a fearsome witch," he said and Lucius smiled for the first time, without malice.

"Yes, I did," he replied, proudly. "But I doubt you came here to tell me that," he added.

"No. Albus made a spell designed to help me when the Mark would burn. Only I know what it is. It doesn't last forever but it'll offer you some respite in the meantime."

"And...you can tell me what this spell is? What good does that do me? I can't use magic in here and neither can you."

Severus raised and eyebrow at him as gave a small, almost imperceptible smirk. "This spell is rather more like instinctive magic that can't be suppressed. Much more difficult to perform but much more effective than conventional spells. But sadly me teaching it to you would be pointless. Looking at you, you hardly have the energy to cast it and it has to be applied by another. My magic will, for a time, block out the Mark. Albus could manage it sometimes for days...but I'm not Albus Dumbledore. I've never cast it before so it may only last a few hours."

"Even a few hours would be welcome," Lucius replied, "But why bother? You betrayed us all. You don't care."

"Of course not. I've been offering to exhaust my magic for every Death Eater in Azkaban just waiting to see their reactions and now I'm off to see your neighbour," Severus rolled his eyes.

"Sarcasm is the lowest form of wit," the other wizard retorted automatically but grimaced when he realised what he'd said.

"But the highest form of intelligence," the headmaster responded as they used to and Lucius snorted.

"...Severus..." the man began with a sigh.

"I've been doing what I can, Lucius," Severus admitted. "I know it's not up to the glorified standards you're used to," he said, looking around the pitiful cell, "But it's better than the Dementors."

He'd been bribing guards for months as a matter of fact and if it ever got out, then he'd be in a cell right next to Lucius. But thankfully, not all Aurors had morals like Alastor Moody so it was highly unlikely. Moody would've spat in your face if offered a bribe and shoved you in Azkaban regardless. He knew that because one Death Eater had been stupid enough to try it, many years ago. He never did find out just what had happened to the poor fool.

Without another word, Severus walked back over to Lucius and adjusted the restrains so that he could move his arms a little, for which the wizard gave him a silent expression of gratitude. The headmaster then held the battered wrist of the prisoner and examined the moving, hissing Dark Mark.

"Yours is...the same?" Lucius asked and Severus inclined his head. "Then shouldn't someone be helping you rather than you helping me? You're the headmaster, I'm sure someone in that place would help you."

"I've not told anyone about it and I don't intend to just yet," Severus replied, tilting his head at the Mark. "I've sworn Albus' portrait to secrecy but I've no doubt he'll find a way round it eventually. In the meantime, I'm working on suppressing the...curse...alone. Curses don't simply power themselves. There has to be something fueling it and I plan on finding it...and destroying it."

"You think you can best the Dark Lord? You're good, but I'm not sure you're quite that good."

"I don't intend on going quietly again," Severus narrowed his eyes at the man. "And neither are you," he added, resolutely.

"Am I not?" Lucius grimaced when the snake on his arm made a partially loud hissing sound.

"No, you bloody well aren't...southern git," the headmaster retorted, making his friend laugh despite the pain he was in.

"Well, challenge accepted. I can hardly allow Wiltshire to concede to the Midlands, now can I?" he asked, haughtily in his best aristocratic voice. *1 Lucius half wondered just how Severus could stand so easily and not show any sign of pain if he was feeling the same agony from the Mark when he himself needed the wall behind him to support him.

"What's so great about Wiltshire?" Severus muttered quietly as he gently placed his palm over Lucius' Dark Mark.

"It's got class," the man replied, snootily.

"And a peacock?" Severus mocked.

"I have lots of peacocks," he nodded.

"I didn't mean those stupid things in your garden...you prance about far more than they do anyway...and you've got more feathers."

"You...you...I am not a peacock!"

"Then Wiltshire concedes?"

"Never!" Lucius replied, just as seriously.

"...Peacock," Severus muttered, just loud enough to him to hear.

"Undertaker," the prisoner shot back, eyeing the black clothes and shaking his head.

"You're literally wearing rags, right now, you do realise that?"

"But I'm wearing them with elegance," he said, flipping back his once lustrous, platinum hair.

"And you smell."

"Well, you're..." Lucius began to retort but stopped when Severus closed his eyes and his hand which was covering the Mark began to emit a very dim light and the snake hissed lousy before it was silenced, taking the pain with it.

Severus fell back against the wall now that Lucius was able to stand, his mind no longer addled by pain. As best as he could, he helped the headmaster to sit back against the wall with his eyes still closed and his breathing, harsh. He was clutching at his own Mark, his fingertips scoring at his clothes.

"Severus?" Lucius questioned, furrowing his brow. "Severus? Headmaster?!" he tried again and shook the man by the shoulder when he got no reply.

"Don't shout," Severus eventually replied and his friend was able to release a sigh of relief.

"Be thankful I didn't slap you."

"...Like to see you try," the man muttered, his voice sounding strained.

"What exactly did you? The pain...it's completely gone."

"Blocked the Mark...for a while...doesn't mean it's not still there though...the curse," he explained.

"And why did you..." Lucius asked, taking in the sight of Severus grimacing face.

"I'm blocking your Mark, I can't exactly ignore my own anymore, can I?" he snapped back.

"...Ah," Lucius breathed.

"Consider it...a Christmas present."

"You hate Christmas."

"Tell that to the Weasley's," Severus grumbled.

"Got you singing carols, have they?" Lucius snorted.

"..."

"Oh, sweet Nimue, they did, didn't they? Please tell me they did. Oh, this is brilliant! Almost makes this all worthwhile. That image will stay with me forever!"

"I wasn't singing!"

"Humming at the very least then?"

"No."

"So you were...what? Their musical accompaniment? Really?"

"...Molly flipping Weasley..." Severus muttered as though that was all the explanation he needed.

"...You really spent Christmas...willingly...with the Weasley's?" Lucius asked, sobering after a moment.

"For a while, yes," Severus answered, raising a daring eyebrow. Clearly he was waiting for an angry retort but it never came.

"...I'm too tired to argue," Lucius sighed, "It hardly matters what I think anymore. They won, I lost. With the Dark Lord gone, I have to accept that."

"And the fact that if you annoy me, I can remove the spell."

"Yes, I suppose there is that, too," he shrugged as best he could.

"At least you're honest," Severus said, pushing himself to his feet, shakily to look out of the window again.

"...We're dead men walking," Lucius replied, still sitting on the dirty floor. "Well, you are. I'm a dead man imprisoned, but...semantics," he shook his head. "Even if this only lasts for a minute...I owe you," he said and Severus knew that wasn't an expression that can easy to Lucius Malfoy. "I haven't had a clear moment to think in months. And I hate to ask but...I don't know how long I'll last. I want to write to them at least once...please, Severus."

Silently, and without turning back around, Severus held out a sealed, white envelope from inside his robes with his hand out stretched behind his back, he held it out for Lucius.

"What...what's this?"

"From Draco and Narcissa. I've never smuggled something into Azkaban before. It cost a small fortune so it better be important."

"You..." Lucius breathed and snatched the letter from his hand he shuffled as close to the window as he could to read it by the moonlight and Severus tactfully moved to the other side of the small room, waiting silently. The man must've read it at least three times before he let out a quiet sob and folded it up again. But, Severus said nothing as it was handed back to him. "Thank you," Lucius said, quietly, "But I don't suppose I can keep it."

"Not advisable," Severus said. "As for writing back...that could prove to be more difficult," he said.

"No...that's enough. I didn't expect...Now I really do owe you, don't I?"

"I've been promised full access to Narcissa's private accounts. She kept a well hidden vault. Even the Ministry don't know about it."

"That's my Cissa," Lucius grinned. "Well, at least if I'm bankrolling this smuggling operation, do me one small favour with at least some of the money."

"What?" Severus asked, warily.

"Get some decent clothes," he replied. "You're trying to imitate a priest or an undertaker and I simply won't let it stand any longer, you're far too young to be either. My tailor would be delighted to make you some..."

"No."

"Just one set of robes..."

"No."

"One waistcoat?"

"Not even one glove," Severus deadpanned.

"But always the same clothes, Severus, every day for two decades! It's boring!"

"It's practical."

"Fine, if you won't have new ones made then use mine. I hardly have reason to use them, do I?"

"I don't look good in feathers," Severus remarked.

"I'm perfectly serious."

"So am I."

"Severus, those clothes were made to be seen, not to rot in my wardrobe. It's criminal," he gave a small smirk.

"You've been trying to dress me up since my fifth year. I'm not a doll."

"Give a dying man a break," Lucius replied.

"I'm dying too."

"Ah, you admitted it," Lucius exclaimed, childishly and then laughed.

"Hmmm."

"You seem remarkably calm considering..."

"Years of practice," Severus replied. To look at him, you'd never guess that he was in pain anymore.

Suddenly, startling them both a little, someone banged on the door, loudly, "Time's up!" an uncaring voice cried out.

"Oh, bugger off!" Lucius shouted back, surprising his friend, "It's Christmas!"

"Not in here it isn't!" the Auror shouted back.

"Charming people, aren't they, Aurors?" Lucius asked, dryly when his friend sighed.

"It wouldn't do to irritate them. There's only so much that money can do," Severus said, reluctantly.

"Ah...how the mighty have fallen," his friend replied, sadly yet theatrically.

"You'll fall further still if you give them reason."

"They don't need a reason."

"Neither did we."

"...True...true," Lucius conceded. "So...next time, bring me a book or...something," he said in a much more enthusiastic tone.

"You never read."

"I need something to do! Something other than counting the stones in this room. I'm this close to naming the blasted things! Take pity on me, headmaster."

"Would you like an espresso machine, perhaps?"

"What on earth is one of those?" Lucius asked, perplexed and Severus suppressed a smirk.

"A muggle torture device," he replied, completely serious.

"Are there muggles for me to torture?"

"Luci..."

"Yes, yes, yes, yes yes," Lucius grumbled, rattling his chains, "I'm in chains, Sev, what can I do anyway?"

"I've been promoted from 'bastard' to 'Sev' in one night. Will wonders never cease?"

"You haven't been this sarcastic since school," the older wizard remarked. "Have you been going to that old Parisian brothel again? You were always sarcastic and smug when we left."

Severus said nothing but he did glare at Lucius sardonically. "Does that mean Paris is not responsible?" Lucius asked, disappointed, "It does, doesn't it? Oh, you old boring headmaster. You've turned into a monk, haven't you? If I can't live what's left of my own life, at least let me live vicariously through you."

"One minute of clarity and your heads' already migrated between your legs," Severus lamented rather crudely.

"Have you ever known it to be anywhere else?"

Again, the Auror outside, slammed his hand against the door and Lucius practically growled. "Yes, yes, he's leaving!" he shouted. "Remember...a book...make it a good one," he muttered as the door opened.

"By 'good' am I to assume you mean..."

"I mean 'good'," Lucius emphasised, and Severus rolled his eyes while the impatient, self important Auror practically ushered him out even if he was scared witless the entire time.

Severus left the prison feeling surprisingly worse than when he'd entered it. When he'd arrived, he thought he was going to visit a man who hated him. But clearly that wasn't the case. He left behind a friend who didn't hate him at all , feeling utterly and completely useless.p about the whole thing.

A.N. I didn't want it to seem as though they've just forgotten how angry and frankly, cruel, Lucius was the last time they met. But they're both being faced with the likelihood that they're going to die and they were, at least in my head, good friends at one point. With no Voldemort looming over their heads, I guess they could start to be friends again. Why wouldn't they if life's literally too short?

*1 In case it needed explaining; Malfoy Manor is in Wiltshire so I'm assuming Lucius was born there. Severus was born in the Midlands.

Chapter 27: 16th June 1998

16th June 1998

'Daily Prophet - Death Eater at Hogwarts

By Rita Skeeter

Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry has been a fixture in this country for a thousand years and many of its headmasters have been celebrated as some of the most famous witches and wizards to have ever lived. However, on occasion it does appear to play host to people who would be better suited elsewhere.

Elizabeth Burke, for instance, was a well known pureblood supremacist who believed that children should be 'seen and not heard'. Phineas Black was reputed to have been the been the least favourite headmaster to ever grace the castle's halls and Albus Dumbledore may claim the distinction of having been the most eccentric headmaster of all time. The most recent to add to that already impressive list, is a tried and convicted Death Eater who, it seems, is to remain at the castle.

While the Ministry seems content to allow this Dark Wizard to continue to roam free, the rest of his cohorts languish in Azkaban and we have to wonder just why the rule seems to be different when it comes to the headmaster. He committed the same crimes as the others and he murdered his predecessor, something which he has never denied. Can the Ministry allow this man to retain such a position of authority?

Questions are being asked as to whether the so called 'spy' has some hold over the Minister who, we must remind ourselves, was not elected to his lofty position...'

"Now really," Minerva scoffed, tossing side the newspaper with a huff.

She was sitting with Severus in the man's cosy, living room in his quarters, high above the rest of the castle with the old portraits around the walls. In a few months, Severus would end up taking them down from the room so that he had his privacy at least in here if not in his main office. He'd already done so in his bedroom. Why Albus had left them there to freely come and go as he slept was a mystery to Severus.

There was a warm fire to ward off the last effects of his recent bout of hyperthermia and he was sitting relaxed in a comfortable arm chair.

"Well, it could have been far worse," Armando Dippet remarked from his portrait.

"How exactly could it have been 'worse'?" Minerva snapped, shaking her head. "She just about called him ever vile name under the sun all in the name of 'journalism' and I don't doubt she'll get away with it again. Honestly, you'd think she was the one with some kind of..."

"She's not exactly wrong though, is she?" Phineas asked, scoffing, "He is a Death Eater..."

"Yes, thank you for your opinion, Phineas," Minerva scowled at him.

"...He has been in Azkaban. He's still a dark wizard and always will be; one doesn't simply stop being a dark wizard, he knows that as well as I do," the man continued as though the deputy headmistress had never spoken at all.

With a hateful upturn of his lip, Severus conjured thick, black scrap of fabric, almost like a curtain and with a flick of his wrist, it flung itself over the man's portrait and muffled his disgruntled voice.

"And 'his' hearing happens to work perfectly well, you old fool," Severus grumbled.

"Serves you right, Phineas," one of the portraits laughed.

"I expected this," the headmaster said to Minerva. "And it's a perfect example of why I don't read that pitiful excuse for a newspaper," he explained.

"But..."

"I really don't care," he declared, "Besides...I've been called far worse."

"I just think that after everything you've done..."

"I'm rather surprised that you've stooped low enough to read it yourself," he interrupted her.

"I only looked through it because Horace mentioned that article to me this morning," Minerva explained.

"And you felt the need to read it to me verbatim because...what exactly?"

"...You don't deserve it, Severus," she replied, sadly.

"No...I deserve a cell in Azkaban," he said, "And a lot worse. I shouldn't even be considering staying on as..."

"We are not having that conversation again and do you really have to be so maudlin?!"

"Side effect of having my larynx rearranged," he snapped back.

"Merlin save me from the sarcasm of Slytherins," she lamented.

"He too was a Slytherin," Severus retorted and she thew up her hands, dramatically as she sighed.

"You don't intend to do anything about it, do you? That...woman...is free to write whatever she wants and you won't..."

"What is it you expect me to do? If I threaten her in any way..."

"I know," Minerva said, furrowing her aged brow. "But she's always been a vile woman, it'd do her good to be brought down a peg or two," she added.

"Well, when she starts insulting you for defending my 'honour', by all means," he replied.

"I'd like to see her try."

"Once she runs out of colourful insults for me, she may very well do so."

"Hmmm," the witch scoffed, downing the rest of her scotch from an antique glass tumbler.

"...Remind me," Severus began, haughtily, "The reason you're allowed to drink this fine whiskey and I am not, is..."

"You're on medicated potions," she answered.

"I am the headmaster."

"Which means nothing to Poppy or to common sense."

"I don't need to be mothered," he grumbled.

"I think sometimes, that's exactly what you need, young man."

"...Hardly young."

"You're thirty eight. You're young."

"I feel more like a hundred and thirty eight."

"Well, you don't look it. Thank heavens for small mercies," she smiled.

"Because that would be, quite possibly, the most catastrophic thing to have plagued my existence so far," he replied and she chuckled.

"I did rather miss this," she smiled when he just raised a confused eyebrow at her.

Over their long years as colleagues she had come to realise that it took a certain type of individual to converse properly with Severus Snape. They needed to be intelligent because he didn't suffer fools lightly; they needed to be able to match his quick wit and his sharp tongue. And they needed to be rather brave too because sometimes his remarks could cut the skin more effectively than a well aimed Sectumsempra. Which was perhaps why just lately, now that he was free to converse as he pleased, he found himself surrounded by Gryffindors. For them, it could be argued that bravery and stupidity oftentimes went hand in hand.

"..." he went to speak, no doubt to ask her what she meant, but she just waved a dismissive hand at him.

"It's late. Poppy will have my wand if she finds out I've been keeping you from your rest," she remarked, standing up.

"Poppy can take her sleeping schedules and shove them..."

"Severus," she frowned, "You need to sleep. Please...I worry. We worry."

"Don't. I can manage perfectly well without your concern."

"I'm afraid that's not something you have a say in," Minerva informed him, matter of factly. She then waved her wand and the decanter and glass she'd been using vanished, along with the tea set she'd conjured for him.

"I've been telling him that for years, Minerva," Albus' portrait remarked, fondly, "But he's rather stubborn."

"I hadn't noticed."

"I am still here," Severus sighed.

"And so am I," Phineas spoke, angrily from another portrait while his own was still obscured by the black sheet. "How dare you cover up my portrait, I am a scion of the ancient and most noble house of Black and I..." he rattled off but again, a scrap of cloth was cast over the portrait, only this time it wasn't black. It was a bold Gryffindor red with good trim and elaborate tassels.

"That's quite enough out of you for one night," Minerva snapped, putting her wand away.

"I rather fear a habit forming here," Albus said, his moustache quivering as he repressed his laughter.

"Now, I really must insist that you get some much needed sleep," she said to Severus, before turning to leave. "I'll see you at breakfast," she added.

"Minerva," Severus remarked before she could get very far. "Am I to understand from earlier that you are encouraging me...in all my Slytherin subtlety...to do away with Rita Skeeter? I have means, you know," he smirked a little.

"Why, Severus, you know I'd never advocate such a violent response," she mocked back but sobered quickly. "Of course I wouldn't. It...it sounds cruel, I know...but...of all the good people we've lost...she's not exactly a person I would morn."

"Nor I," he replied.

"We can dream, can't we?" she sighed. "Goodnight, Severus," she said, leaving him alone with the portraits.

A.N. As always, a huge, huge thank you and a Chocolate Frog to everyone whose reviewed so far!