The Portrait's Instructions
Even the ghosts were afraid to be noticed. They disappeared through the solid stone walls as the pair walked back into the Entrance Hall. Concluding a tour of the castle where they had not encountered a single soul, alive or otherwise. Though it was still summer, Hogwarts was never completely deserted. Many of its faculty lived there year round, as did over a hundred house elves. Yet despite this, the place gave off an air of abandonment upon the news breaking that the school was now under the Dark Lord’s control.
“I expect you’ll be met with some resistance and need to make an example of a few in the beginning,” the Dark Lord was saying, “but the rest will surely fall into line when they realize what is at stake.”
“Yes, My Lord,” Severus nodded. “I won’t give them a choice.”
The Ministry of Magic had fallen within a matter of weeks following the death of Albus Dumbledore. There was nobody to deter the Dark Lord anymore from moving forward with his plans and in many ways it seemed like he had already won. The Dementors had joined him, as well as the werewolves and the giants. Society had been divided between purebloods and others, with more and more muggleborns being rounded up with their wands confiscated by the minute.
Though most people silently opposed this regime, they felt powerless to do anything. Even the Order of the Phoenix was forced to go underground and watch helplessly as their Minister for Magic was assassinated and replaced with a puppet of the Dark Lord. Meanwhile Dumbledore’s murderer, Severus Snape, had been made headmaster of Hogwarts and the chosen one, Harry Potter, had vanished.
“Unless you have any objections, I think I will place the Carrows here to assist you,” his master continued. “We need to fill the posts for Defence Against the Dark Arts and Muggle Studies anyway…”
The Dark Lord’s lipless mouth twisted in an evil smile while Severus suppressed a shudder. He tried not to think about Charity Burbage, the former Muggle Studies professor, who had been captured by the Death Eaters and then fed to Nagini before his very eyes. Severus would never forget her last words and the way she had looked at him through desperate eyes as she begged him to help her.
“Severus please” Charity had begged - but there had been nothing that Severus could have done. Her name was added to the growing list of countless men and women he had been unable to save.
“I’d appreciate that, My Lord,” Severus worked to keep his voice steady.
“You’ve been a good and faithful servant, Severus,” the Dark Lord said, pointing his wand at the heavy front doors so that they flew open ahead of himself. A warm pleasant breeze swept into the drafty castle and sunlight gleamed across the floor.
His eyes on the wand in his master’s hand, Severus forced his lips into a small, but pleased smile at the verbal affirmation. That he was the most valued and trusted Death Eater at the moment was not doubted by anyone - especially not after witnessing the onslaught of humiliation that had occurred last month when Lucius Malfoy had been stripped of his wand and relentlessly emasculated inside his own house.
“My Lord, I desire nothing more than your approval.”
“Well, as I have always told you, you are exceedingly clever, Severus. I think you’ll do very well back here. You would have been wasted in combat - there’s men much more disposable than yourself to use for those purposes.”
“Thank you for saying that, master,” Severus said softly. What Bellatrix had once proclaimed to be Severus’s usual slithering out of action, was actually the full value of his worth. He was everything that she wasn’t - quiet, calm, and subtle - which had enabled him to go the places that she couldn’t, and be the things that she wasn’t.
“I always saw your potential even when others didn't,” the Dark Lord whispered. “That old fool, Dumbledore, just wanted to take advantage of you, but I saw exactly what you needed - just a bit of confidence and guidance on how to achieve greatness. I promised to make you great, did I not?”
“You did,” Severus agreed. “I hope I have met, and then exceeded, your expectations.”
He would never forget what it had been like to first meet the Dark Lord when he was but the age that Harry was now. It had all begun during the summer he had stayed at the Malfoys following his mother’s death. Severus could remember how much it had pleased him to be told that the Dark Lord had found him talented, clever, and worthy after their first meeting. He had preyed upon Severus’s insecurities and unquenchable desire to find somewhere to belong, knowing exactly what he was doing while the naive and embittered young boy lapped up all his praise and attention.
“You have Lord Voldemort’s gratitude and you haven’t disappointed me,” the Dark Lord assured him, his red eyes blinking menacingly as they began to walk across the courtyard with the sun shining in their eyes. “As headmaster, you’re going to have the whole wizarding world of Britain under your eye from their early beginnings. You will be expected to pick out the most promising new recruits to send my way.”
“And what is to be done with known or suspected Potter sympathizers?” Severus asked, folding his hands behind his back as he followed at his master’s side.
“Keep them intact but find out whatever useful information you can from them,” the Dark Lord replied. “The sooner we capture Harry Potter, the sooner we can quash down the last streak of rebellion in our new order.”
“I don’t expect anyone to be forthcoming, but I shall do what I can,” Severus promised.
“It only takes one, Severus,” the Dark Lord smiled. “You will recall that the Potters tried to hide from me and were betrayed by one of their dearest friends - and then see that Dumbledore was foolish enough to make the same mistake. Potter will be found eventually, there is no question.”
He left a few minutes later, with Severus standing in the grass with his hand gripping tightly to his wand, fantasizing about aiming a fatal green light straight to the back of the Dark Lord’s head. If only he could be killed in such a way - if only the snake was already dead.
As Severus turned to walk back into the castle, he had to remind himself that Harry would never be found, no matter what the Dark Lord had said to the contrary. Sirius would never let anything happen to Harry and knowing that they were safe at the manor together was what had made it possible for Severus to concentrate on doing what he had to do.
“Acid Pops,” Severus spoke to the griffin statue when he’d reached the seventh floor, guessing correctly that Minerva would not have had the heart to change it from what Dumbledore had last set.
Severus had always found the headmaster’s habit of naming passwords after his favourite sweets to be rather irksome and unbefitting such an important man. However, now he felt only fondness reminiscing about the eccentricities of Albus Dumbledore.
The staircase began to emerge from behind the statue and curve upwards to the tower. Apparently it was willing to welcome him inside - unlike the way it had sealed itself closed and refused to recognize Dolores Umbridge’s authority two years ago.
Severus’s thoughts shifted to the contrasting eagerness and dread he was experiencing in anticipation of what he knew would be waiting for him when he got inside. The Dark Lord had avoided the headmaster’s study on their earlier walk around the castle. Presumably he had wanted to avoid all the eyes staring down at him from the portraits of deceased former headmasters and headmistresses, which Severus completely understood. For nothing could quite prepare him for opening the door at the top of the staircase and immediately catching the twinkling blue eyes of Albus Dumbledore staring back at him.
“I was wondering when you’d get here, Severus,” Dumbledore beamed from the portrait hung directly behind the desk.
“The Dark Lord has taken over Britain and has now put me in charge of running this school for him,” Severus informed the portrait as he stepped more deeply into the circular office and closed the door behind him. “Once again, you guessed correctly.”
“Well, I must say that it is nice to see you again,” Dumbledore replied gently. “Have you been coping alright?”
Severus scoffed and had to quickly remind himself that it was a portrait he was talking to - that he should not mistake it for the actual man. While the Dumbledore in the painting was able to speak and interact with him quite like the headmaster had done in life, he was merely a visual memoir of him - it wasn’t the same as being alive. Dumbledore had already moved on to wherever people went when they died. His portrait remained behind as a tool to advise and remember him by, nothing more.
“What has happened since we last -”
“Forgive me, I’m not exactly in the mood for a nice cozy catch up with you at the moment,” Severus said stiffly.
The circular office looked exactly the same as always so that he almost was tempted to sit down in the chair in front of the desk and wait for Dumbledore to tell him what his next steps should be. As headmaster, he felt like an imposter. Here on the Dark Lord’s orders, but also on Dumbledore’s - having promised that he would remain and protect the students to the best of his ability when the takeover inevitably happened.
The other portrait subjects were shifting in their frames, excited to get a glimpse of the newly appointed headmaster after what had undoubtedly been a rather boring summer for them. Dumbledore continued to watch him with sad and concerned eyes, but Severus ignored him while he paced around the study, absentmindedly examining the silver instruments and abundance of books that now belonged to him.
“Do my eyes deceive me, Dumbledore?” Severus heard the portrait of Phineas Nigelus exclaim behind his back, as he walked up the steps to the more private living quarters and was relieved to be met with bare walls. “The first Slytherin headmaster since myself!”
Severus passed through the living room and into the bedroom where he stared at the oval bed in the centre of the floor and recalled, with a pang in his heart, how he had sat up there with Dumbledore all night after saving his life last year. Taking care to ensure that the curse in Dumbledore’s hand would not break through its bindings while he listened to the headmaster tell him all the things his normally reserved nature prevented him from sharing.
About how Severus was a person who mattered to him, who had done a lot of good, and made him proud. Severus would be lying if he pretended that the confidences shared between them that night hadn’t meant a great deal to him. In spite of the resentment he felt for the man, the relationship that had existed between them was something that he cherished and grieved for secretly every day.
“They destroyed the locket,” Severus announced, stepping back into the office and positioning himself directly in front of Dumbledore’s portrait. His resolve to ignore him had lasted all but mere minutes. After being so terribly lonely for so long, the portrait of Dumbledore was the closest thing he had right now to a friend.
“Minerva told me,” Dumbledore replied. “It doesn’t seem like the Dark Lord suspects anything?”
“Not yet.”
“Good,” Dumbledore said. “Things are going as planned then - your doing, of course,” he smiled gently. “You’re probably his closest advisor now.”
“It seems that way, yes.”
“You’ve done so well,” Dumbledore praised him. “Were you able to get Draco out securely?”
“Sort of,” Severus said, leaning against the wooden desk and crossing his arms as he resigned himself to the chat he had thought he was adamantly opposed to. “I don’t know if ‘securely’ is the right word to use when I merely returned him to a house where the Dark Lord is dwelling, but his father is back, so Lucius is bearing the brunt of the displeasure now.”
“You saved his life,” Dumbledore reminded him, but Severus merely shrugged.
“It’s still not enough,” he insisted, despite knowing that he’d done all that he could when it came to helping the Malfoys. They were disgraced and threatened, and he had idiotically handed Draco a weapon that the boy might have used to take some of the heat off of his own family. Though to his credit, he never had.
“And Harry?” Dumbledore pressed gently.
Severus pressed his lips together and shook his head. “No idea,” he answered stiffly. “I haven’t seen him since the night I - since you died.”
“I surmised as much,” Dumbledore replied. “And if I’m correct in thinking that the Dark Lord will give you a bit of peace now that you’re here and away from him, then I think you should take the opportunity to go see your family.”
Severus bristled at the suggestion. “I’m not sure how much you know but Harry is now called ‘Undesirable No 1’ in Britain and there are posters everywhere offering a reward for his capture; then there’s the Muggleborn Registration Committee - Death Eaters will be teaching at the school come September - people are being murdered every day. I feel like I’m not doing anything worthwhile in keeping up this act. I need to kill the snake so that I can kill him. I don’t need a holiday.”
“You apparently do need a reminder that you’re not in this alone,” Dumbledore said pointedly.
“Well, I feel alone,” Severus snapped resentfully.
Dumbledore sighed. “I see that…but you are not. Come look behind my portrait. My living self left a few things for you to find.”
Severus let out an exasperated breath as he relented to step closer to Dumbledore’s portrait. He pulled at its side and it swung forward, revealing a hidden cavity behind it from which he took two small velvet bags; one plum and one canary yellow.
“Don’t open the purple yet,” Dumbledore cautioned, as his portrait was pushed back into place. “That bag is only to be opened when you and Harry are preparing to confront the Dark Lord together.”
Severus immediately set that bag down on the desk as though it contained something deeply disturbing to him. “On the contrary, Dumbledore, Harry is currently being protected under a Fidelius Charm and I have no intentions of letting him leave its confines to confront anyone.”
“I know you want to keep him safe, but you will see that keeping him hidden indefinitely will not be possible,” Dumbledore said quietly.
Severus shook his head. “You’re going to have to settle for me instead,” he said firmly. “The Dark Lord still intends to follow the prophecy, but if he can't find Harry then it won’t be fulfilled. How exactly is my seventeen year old supposed to stand a chance against his powers? That's ridiculous.”
They stared at one another. Severus’s black eyes glaring menacingly into the bright blue of Dumbledore’s, their sparkle prominent even in a painting. He seemed reluctant to argue his point further, guessing correctly that it was something with which he and Severus were never going to agree. He pointed at the velvet bag Severus hadn’t let go of yet.
“There is a portkey in there.”
Severus frowned slightly as he tugged on the strings bunching the bag at its top and then reached a hand in to pull out a singular marble, displaying different shades of blue.
“For home?” he guessed, unable to ignore the way his heart fluttered with longing as he squeezed the marble more tightly in his hand.
“Yes,” Dumbledore nodded. “I knew once you made it back to Hogwarts that it would probably be safe enough for you to make the discreet journey home. The portkey will deliver you back and forth from this office - nobody needs to even know that you have left the castle. Place alerts on the door and blockages so nobody can try and get in during your absence.”
Severus’s mind was whirling with all the reasons and factors pushing him to proclaim this a bad idea. The snake was still alive - out there somewhere doing her master’s bidding. He had work to do and things to still figure out. But that didn’t stop him from pointing his wand at the door to the study and performing the security charms that Dumbledore’s portrait had suggested.
Then he directed his wand at the tiny marble in his hand and activated the portkey. Dumbledore had arranged this for him before he had died, wanting to alleviate some of the suffering he knew he was condemning him to. Just the idea of it was enough to make Severus feel a little less alone, but that was nothing to the way all his hardships seemed to lift off of his back suddenly a few minutes later when the portkey lifted away from the office and landed him in the front yard of the manor he’d come to love.
He had barely moved a muscle before the front door of the house was thrown open and Sirius was running out to greet him.
“You promised to send us a message the first chance you got….it’s been months!”
“Two months, don’t exaggerate,” Severus replied, relieved to see that the property secured inside the Fidelius Charm seemed bright and exactly as it had been left. With Buckbeak dozing in the shade of an oak tree and a song in the passing wind that seemed to amplify peace. It was safe here.
“Two and a half,” Sirius countered, pulling him into his arms before Severus even had a chance to process what was happening.
“Fine, two and half,” he murmured, relentingly, into Sirius’s shoulder.
He had half raised his arms to reciprocate this embrace before something inside him fought it. However, he couldn’t bring himself to pull away. He just stood there, appreciating the contact from another human person while he waited to be released. Taking an automatic step back from Sirius once he was.
“I’m just relieved you’re alright,” Sirius said honestly.
Although the inside of the house was much the same since Severus had last been there, it was different as well. New items scattered around the main floor made it clear that some of the people residing there were muggles. Severus recognized a battery operated portable DVD player and a binder full of disks on the dining room table, while an art easel and a stool was set up in the corner by the stairs. There was laundry in a basket waiting to be folded on the sofa, but despite the comfortable lived-in environment, the place appeared to be temporarily vacant aside from Sirius and himself at present.
“How’s Harry?”
“He’s fine,” Sirius replied. “A bit restless, but that’s hardly a surprise.”
“Not at all,” Severus agreed, who could only imagine how much of an understatement that probably was.
“We haven’t really been doing anything, you know?” Sirius said. “Just reading the papers and waiting to hear from you…”
“I didn’t feel safe sending word or I would have,” Severus said softly.
He’d only just gotten there and he couldn’t get past how good it made him feel to be able to let his guard down for a little while. It was extremely anxiety provoking to always be afraid a fleeting thought or misconstrued statement could get you tortured, although he hadn’t had to contend with that in awhile. The Dark Lord hadn’t raised his wand to Severus aggressively since he’d killed Dumbledore.
“I know, we understand,” Sirius assured him, as they sat down on the sofa together. “So what have you been doing?”
“I’ve just been by his side pretty consistently,” Severus replied. “He doesn’t have to share me with Dumbledore anymore after all.”
“That’s awful,” Sirius grimaced.
“Yes,” Severus agreed. “But where is Harry?”
“Oh, up in the sky somewhere - he knows not to fly outside the protective barriers,” Sirius replied. “Or he might have gone over to the Burrow - Jean and Edward have been showing Arthur how to golf.”
“That’s something I could probably live without witnessing,” Severus said dryly. “It’s under Fidelius now as well?
“Yes, of course,” Sirius replied.
“Because I heard about the close call at the wedding…”
The night that the Ministry of Magic had fallen and Rufus Scrimgeour had been killed had also happened to be the night of Bill and Fleur’s wedding. The Death Eaters had broken through the defences at the Burrow with the intention of capturing Harry, or at least questioning the guests about his whereabouts. However, most of them had already disapparated before they’d arrived - having received a well placed tip off from within the Ministry itself.
“It was a scare for sure,” Sirius acknowledged, “but Harry was never in danger. He had taken Polyjuice Potion for the wedding and Kingsley’s warning gave us plenty of time to get back here.”
It was horrible for Severus to have learned of these plans and been unable to intervene, but it had at least meant immediately knowing when they were unsuccessful.
“Severus,” said Sirius nervously. “There is something I need to say to you….truth be told, I’ve been choking on it for a very long time. I need to apologize to you.”
A feeling of dread washed over Severus and he wished he could ask what Sirius was apologizing for, but it wasn’t in the least bit necessary. He knew exactly where this was going and wished more than anything that it wouldn’t.
“This summer, I’ve spent a lot of time thinking about all the things I’d have liked to tell you,” Sirius stammered, sounding quite unlike his usual confident self. “About how sorry I am mostly. To put it plainly - I’m ashamed of myself. I would have been ashamed a lot sooner if I'd been honest with myself.”
“We already agreed to bury this….” Severus protested weakly.
“For Harry’s sake, but not for yours,” Sirius replied matter-of-factly, “and you matter too. You mattered then - and James and I were more than just idiots…we were plain cruel.”
“I didn’t come back for you to get all sentimental,” Severus shifted uncomfortably back in his seat.
Silence fell between them because what else could be said? Sirius kept giving him sideways glances but Severus didn’t know what he was expected to say. He did not appreciate this blatant reminder about how he had betrayed himself in many ways - first by growing to care for the boy he’d been so determined to despise and then by coming together with one of the people who had made his life hell in order to co-parent that same boy.
“You all aren’t the reasons why I became a Death Eater,” Severus said stiffly, settling on the truth. “Don’t give yourself too much credit.:
“Perhaps not entirely the reason…” Sirius said skeptically, “but I think a lot of things would have turned out different if I’d apologized to you way back then.”
“I probably wouldn’t have listened if you’d tried,” Severus said coolly.
“Fair enough,” said Sirius quietly.
They sat there in silence. Severus would never give Sirius the satisfaction of admitting just how much his words had lightened something inside him. He had thought he didn’t need an apology - that it would never make a bit of difference - but he realized now that it did. Having his pain and what he’d gone through acknowledged made it seem possible to let go of the harm done to him and truly move on.
“I forgive you,” Severus said finally, as a small flicker of hope burned somewhere deep inside his soul where nobody but he could detect it. “If I’m capable of forgiving you, perhaps that means that I might be forgiven for my own past as well.”
“Of course it does,” Sirius insisted, but he didn’t know what all of Severus’s sins entailed.
“I was speaking with Dumbledore’s portrait,” Severus said softly, changing the subject. “He spoke of Harry and I going to confront the Dark Lord together.”
“What did he say when you told him it's not happening?” asked Sirius.
“He said it wouldn’t be possible to keep him hidden forever,” Severus replied.
“Challenge accepted then,” Sirius said firmly, “and it will be a challenge. Harry wants to be out there - he wants to be doing something….”
“I’m sure he does,” Severus said disinterestedly, “but I’m not particularly interested in what he wants. All I know is that I have to kill the snake - but there hasn’t been an opportunity for me to do so yet in a way that won’t get me immediately killed. I’m not afraid of dying, but I’m very afraid of not being here for him if I die.”
Somehow he had evolved from the young man who had wished to be dead and took on every dangerous assignment that he could in order to hopefully relieve himself of the shackles of duty that still bound him to this earth, into a person who saw value in his life.
“Such a risk isn’t worth it,” Sirius said reasonably, which was probably not what he would have said even a couple of years ago. “We’d be lost if you died and we’ll figure something out…an opportunity will strike when we least expect it and we’ll be able to act. Anyway I - ”
He broke off as the front door opened and Harry walked into the house. Leaning his broomstick against the wall and not even looking over at them as he wiped some sweat from his face off on his dirty t-shirt. “Dad, we really need to….” he broke off as he realized that Sirius was not sitting there alone.
“Is everything alright?” Harry asked urgently, rushing across the floor and stopping directly in front of Severus. “We saw the paper yesterday and -”
“I’m okay,” Severus assured him, opening his arms up as Harry automatically went into them. Suddenly the agony of not being able to even contact Harry entirely consumed him, and Severus was both relieved to be here and dreading having to leave again at the same time. “Everything’s fine.”
“You should have called for me the moment he got here,” Harry said, shooting an accusatory glance at Sirius.
“Easy there,” Sirius said warningly, moving over on the sofa to make room for Harry to sit down. “You’re not the only one who missed him.”
“It’s been months without a word from you,” Harry turned back to Severus imploringly. “I need to know what’s going on. People are dying, being captured, and he’s taken over the whole country while I’ve just been sitting here all summer.”
“You’ve been up in the sky and with your friends; moderately safe, aside from that one close call,” Severus told him boredly. “That’s not ‘sitting’ and what exactly do you think you’re going to do with a 10,000 Galleon reward on your head anyway?”
“That’s exactly what I’ve been saying,” Sirius said, a small smile curving across his lips as he caught Severus’s eye. “It feels so good to have backup. You can’t go anywhere, Harry - hopefully none of us will for a good while.”