Not So Different
Severus had tried to get excused from the meeting that night by pointing out that it pertained to the Order members employed at the Ministry, and not him, but Dumbledore had insisted that he attend anyway. He expressed his unhappiness with the headmaster by showing up at Grimmauld Place as late as he dared. Severus let himself inside and followed the murmur of voices downstairs to the kitchen. Dumbledore had already arrived and was talking intently to the few people he’d requested there, but he stopped when Severus entered the room and smiled.
“Severus, excellent,” Dumbledore greeted him warmly.
Severus glanced warily around, noting that the long table that could seat a dozen had become a small round one that forced the sparsely assembled group to sit closer together. This definitely was by the hand of Albus Dumbledore, who would undoubtedly have some inspirational sermon about a circle being a symbol of unity and equality during these troubled times at the ready, if anyone bothered to ask.
Kingsley Shacklebolt, Nymphadora Tonks, and Arthur Weasley, who were all in attendance because their jobs meant that they could inconspicuously maneuver around the ministry, gave Severus polite nods as he skulked over to the only remaining chair, which happened to be next to Black. Underneath the table, Severus pushed his palms down hard against his thighs and braced himself for this meeting’s agenda, which was the reason why he had tried so hard to get out of coming here tonight, but to no avail. Dumbledore was never exactly inclined to give him a pass when he desired it most. The headmaster seemed to consider remembering and confronting his sins regularly to be part of Severus’s penance.
“Now, as I was saying, the night that Lord Voldemort attacked the Potters fourteen years ago, and Harry survived, he was acting on only partial information bequeathed to him by one of his Death Eaters,” Dumbledore explained gravely, and Severus automatically stared down at his lap and concentrated on making his face as stiff as stone.
“What information was that, professor?” asked Tonks.
“Something that convinced him that Harry might be a serious threat to him,” Dumbledore answered simply. “The irony of this of course being, that going after the Potters and attempting to kill Harry is what caused his demise, if only temporarily. However, since returning, he has become obsessed with trying to understand what went wrong for him that night.”
“And do you know what went wrong for him that night, Albus?” asked Kingsley.
“I have theories,” Dumbledore said vaguely, “as I’m sure Lord Voldemort does as well. It’s the not knowing for certain that scares him, and he is only becoming more determined. Now I must confer that-”
“Is Harry upstairs?” Black leaned closer to Severus so that nobody else would hear.
“No,” Severus said shortly, his head jerking up anxiously. He caught sight of Black’s crestfallen face in the corner of his eye and suddenly felt compelled to explain why he hadn’t delivered Harry to him as they’d previously agreed. “He’s earned himself detention every night this week.”
“From you?” Black’s eyes narrowed.
“Dolores Umbridge,” Severus muttered, staring at Dumbledore, who had just glanced warningly over at them like a teacher who’d caught two students talking during class. Black paid no attention to the headmaster though. He was still staring intently at Severus.
“For what?” he asked.
“Yelling at her and calling her a liar,” Severus answered stiffly, pressing his hands down deeper against his thighs. “More than once.”
Black smirked. “Well I wouldn’t lay down and take orders from an old hag like Umbridge either.”
“Well now he’s serving detention instead of spending the evening with you,” Severus reminded him, speaking out of the corner of his mouth. “How very like you of him to forget that actions have consequences.”
“Yeah, and you too. How’s Voldemort doing these days?” Black asked, a defensive note in his voice. Everyone had heard and turned to stare at him.
Even Dumbledore had had enough, pausing with his blue eyes scanning over the two men. “Are you quite through?” he asked calmly.
Black started to nod his head, but then opened his mouth instead. “Sorry, Professor, but I still don’t quite understand why we’re discussing how to withhold information from Voldemort, without including Harry in this conversation. I’d imagine he’s just as anxious to learn the answer to these questions as Voldemort is, and I think you should share what you think you know with Harry. It’s his birthright.”
Dumbledore stared at Black for a long while, and when he finally spoke his tone was even, if a bit cold. “I don’t wish Harry to know anything about this just yet.”
“And that’s your decision to make, is it, Dumbledore?” asked Black bitingly, which caused everyone to shift uncomfortably in their seats. People typically didn’t talk back or argue with Albus Dumbledore, but Black was not to be deterred. “What about what I think? If you know more about why Voldemort murdered my best friend and his wife, and what that means for Harry’s future, then I’d like to know what it is.”
There was another pause before Dumbledore spoke. “It is important for us to keep Voldemort from accessing information that is important to Voldemort. I don’t think any good can come from telling anyone more than they need to know.”
“Harry is only fifteen, Sirius,” Arthur said quietly. “Even if he does have a serious knack for getting himself into trouble, there is a reason why we don’t allow underage wizards into the Order. I’m not sure that even Harry should be an exception to that rule.”
“The normal rules don’t apply to him,” Black retorted.
“And You-Know-Who will never cease trying to kill him,” Kingsley added in his deep voice. “The Boy-Who-Lived, the one they call his downfall. I can agree with Sirius not wanting Potter to be left in the dark. He’s no ordinary fifteen year old.”
“Yes, but You-Know-Who is never going to stop hunting any of us down,” Tonks interjected. “Harry needs protection, but You-Know-Who would like to do us all in. It’s not that different.”
“Harry was the only one of us in that graveyard having his arm sliced open to aid in Voldemort’s resurrection,” Black said emotionally, rocking back in his chair so strongly that the front legs actually lifted off the floor. “I think that makes him quite different, actually.”
He glanced at Severus, who hadn’t spoken a word, but whose dark eyes had followed the conversation around the table. His face was pearly white and he looked like he might be sick. Black looked as though he was half-hoping, half-expecting that Severus would take his side against Dumbledore and demand more information for Harry’s benefit, but that would never happen. Least of all because Severus knew that the Headmaster’s discretion was fundamentally for his own sake. Even if the contents of the prophecy were not for everyone’s ears.
If the truth about what really had caused the Dark Lord to go hunt down the Potters became common knowledge, Severus knew that he would be rejected more than he’d ever been before in his life, no matter how crucial his role was to the Order of the Phoenix. Nobody would tolerate him if they knew about the blood on his hands. Harry would never come near him again. Black would probably attempt to Avada Kedavra him on the spot. The reason that Dumbledore was intentionally vague about why the Potters had been specifically targeted and what it meant for Harry, was because Severus was the Death Eater who had pointed the Dark Lord in their direction in the first place.
It was Severus who had been spying at the door when a prophecy was made telling of The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaching. It was Severus, who had been the faithful Death Eater eager to run and tell his master everything he had heard. It was Severus, who had deflected and gone to Albus Dumbledore for help to save his beloved childhood friend, when he’d learned that the Dark Lord had interpreted the prophecy to mean Lily’s son. It was Severus’s fault that the Potters were dead and Harry an orphan. Everything that had happened to them was because of Severus.
“I have Harry’s best interests in mind, as I know you do, Sirius,” Dumbledore said quietly. “We might not always agree, but our hearts work the same way. Let’s keep him protected, teach him, give him love, family, and room to grow; and then we can worry about preparing him for what might await him.”
Severus looked back down at his lap and silently pondered whether Dumbledore was also speaking to himself right now. Severus had stepped willingly, and unexpectedly, into doing all those very things for Harry. Although the hypocrisy of him, of all people, fathering a boy whose life he’d played a hand in ruining, was not lost on him. It had all been so much simpler when their relationship had been defined by mutual dislike.
“Right now, my priority is keeping Voldemort from getting what he wants,” Dumbledore was speaking calmly, apparently oblivious to the suffering man at his table. “We need guards stationed in the Department of Mysteries at all times because that’s where he believes answers await him.”
“That’s already been taken care of, Dumbledore,” Kingsley said. “You’ve had someone standing guard every night down there.”
“I realize this,” said Dumbledore. “But I have reason to believe that Voldemort will be concentrating more efforts there very soon. Most particularly, in the Hall of Prophecy - do not ask me why,” he held up a hand, but nodded at Tonks, Kingsley, and Arthur each in turn. He seemed to take for granted that they would risk their lives to protect what they did not understand, trusting him blindly, because faith in Albus Dumbledore had never led any of them astray before.
As the rest of the table grew quiet, Severus decided to break his silence at long last and contribute something constructive to the meeting. Taking his mind off his own pain and self-loathing. “You’re all aware of Nagini?” he asked.
“You-Know-Who’s snake?” Kingsley verified, and Severus nodded.
“The Dark Lord can communicate with her, of course,” he told them. “I think he cares more for Nagini than any person and she is devoted to him. The Dark Lord has taken to sending her out to do his bidding and I think she’s a serious threat. Her venom is extremely lethal.”
“Don’t you have an antidote, Severus?” asked Tonks.
“Yes, I have one,” Severus acknowledged. “But it wouldn’t do much good alone. Her venom delays blood clotting so a victim will bleed out within minutes, even with the antidote right on them.
“A Blood Replenishing potion?” asked Dumbledore.
“That buys some time,” said Severus, “but not much. Perhaps I could combine the properties of the antidote with a blood replenisher….that might give greater odds.”
“That would be appreciated, Severus. Thank you,” Dumbledore said quietly. “We will administer a vial to every order member working unaccompanied. In the meantime, as Alastor Moody would say; let us all practice constant vigilance, and let us all remember that we know more than he thinks we know. We also have more reasons to keep fighting than he does. Kingsley, I’ll trust you to organize the guard of the Department of Mysteries? Don’t leave anything to chance.”
“That’s fine,” Kingsley nodded.
“Wonderful,” Dumbledore said brightly, pushing back his chair as he made to stand up. “Now, I must be getting back to Hogwarts. I appreciate all of you meeting me tonight.” His blue eyes landed on Severus and he looked satisfied. Severus grimaced in response and kept his teeth tightly clenched as Dumbledore turned to stride out of the room, Kingsley close behind him.
“Goodnight, everyone!” Tonks said cheerfully, waving her hand at the group and accidentally knocking over her chair as she stood up. “Oh sorry, Arthur!”
It had landed on Mr. Weasley’s foot. He laughed it off as he righted the chair with a quick wave of his wand. “Come back to the Burrow for a cuppa, Tonks? Molly said-”
“I’ll arrange for Harry to come here soon,” Severus said stiffly. He stood up to leave and Black reacted quickly, taking hold of his arm. Severus flinched and jerked his arm out of Black’s grasp as though he had been scalded. “Don’t touch me!”
“Sorry,” Black looked a little alarmed. “That’s not the arm where he marked you, is it?”
“No,” Severus said coldly. Black touching his arm had not burned him in the physical sense, though he hadn’t been able to resist automatically recoiling. He had suffered far too much humiliation and abuse from those hands to ever react any differently.
“I just---” Black hesitated. “Remus has been gone,working underground…..I haven’t seen anyone, besides Kreacher, since Harry and the others left for Hogwarts…..I haven’t talked….I don’t know...do you want a drink or something?”
“No,” Severus said automatically, his eyes cold as he took a few steps towards the door the others had already left through.
Black nodded his head resignedly. “Do you care if I have one then?”
“It’s your house,” Severus said flatly, still watching him closely, as Black got up and strode over to the fridge. He could just as easily have used magic, but he seemed suddenly desperate to move about. He opened a can of beer and took a sip, walking around the border of the room instead of returning to his chair. Severus still hadn’t moved.
“Do you think it’s fair for me to want Harry to come visit me here?” Black asked bluntly. “It’s so depressing….he’d probably rather be at Hogwarts.”
“Considering you can’t come to Hogwarts, there isn’t much of an alternative,” Severus replied. “I hope you’re not planning to take another stroll about London?”
“Spare me,” Black said, with a wave of his hand. “I got your point last time. Let’s not beat a dead horse. This just isn’t the image I wanted Harry to have of me.”
“Harry would probably appreciate a weekend away from Umbridge, even if it means this house,” Severus replied. “It doesn’t represent the same bad memories for him that it does for you.”
“She’s giving him that hard of a time, is she?” Black glowered.
“If he’d keep his mouth shut for once then it wouldn’t be so bad,” Severus replied. “But he’s proven himself incapable of refraining from shouting out every single thought that gets into his head.”
“He’d make a terrible spy,” Black commented, taking another sip before motioning to Severus with his drink. “I never know what you’re really thinking.”
“It’s not your business to know,” Severus replied.
“But you just endured an hour of everyone talking about Lily and James’ murders, you spend time with their killer on the regular, and you don’t even react. Even though they’re Harry’s parents,” Black shook his head. “I’m just a complete mess.”
“Well, that much is obvious to anyone,” Severus said sardonically.
“Let it be,” Black shrugged. “You don’t just get over something like that. Walking into a house in ruins, knowing what you’re going to find inside. I saw my best friend on the floor and I stopped to hold him, but then I had to keep moving…..because I could hear the baby crying upstairs…..And the nursery roof had been blasted off; Harry’s cot was buried underneath all the wreckage. It’s a miracle that he wasn’t more badly hurt. I helped Hagrid dig him out, and Lily was lying there on the floor too--”
“I don’t need to hear any of this,” Severus snapped, backing closer to the door, looking stricken. “I am not your therapist. Though I should probably recommend that you get one.”
Black stopped his retell, but he didn’t seem to regret it. “Where were you when you heard?” he asked. “Everyone remembers something about the night he disappeared.”
“I was at Hogwarts,” Severus said impatiently. “I already worked there because the Dark Lord wanted me to spy on Dumbledore, and Dumbledore had me spying on the Dark Lord.”
“When did you team up with Dumbledore?” asked Black curiously.
Severus pretended to stop and think about it. Though he never would forget that day. He had been so sure that Dumbledore was going to kill him on sight, but it had still been worth the risk. To beg for Lily’s life. To promise Dumbledore anything in return if he’d keep her safe. He’d been Dumbledore’s man ever since that night, as well as Harry Potter’s protector.
“About a year before he disappeared,” he finally answered. “The night that he tried to kill Harry, and failed, I felt the Dark Mark scorch black-- it was pain like I had never experienced before. Then it was suddenly gone and the mark had disappeared without a trace. I knew that something had happened. I felt exactly when the Dark Lord lost his powers, even though I didn’t know the details. Dumbledore told me shortly after what had happened to the Potters.”
At twenty-one, Severus’s life had ended when Dumbledore had taken him into his office and told him that Lily had died. His father’s beatings, his mother’s death, the tormenting at school--nothing had ever destroyed him quite like discovering that the love of his life had been killed, and that it was all his fault. Knowing there was nothing that he could do, besides honour her sacrifice by ensuring that her son was safe and that she hadn’t died in vain.
He staggered a bit on his feet then. Ready to leave Black, while recognizing, perhaps for the first time, that this grief was something that they both shared. Black had never forgiven himself for convincing Lily and James to use Wormtail as their secret keeper, instead of himself, either. They both felt responsibility for deaths they would have done anything to prevent. And they both had Harry. They really weren’t that different.