Nightmares and Phoenixes
Little One loved his snake-momma.
Little One had never had a snake-momma before. Little One had never had a regular momma before. Snake-momma always made sure that Little One was happy and warm. Little One knew that he was safe with snake-momma. She would curl up next to him as Little One fell asleep in his bed and keep watch.
Little One had been nervous when he first met snake-momma, of course. Snake-momma was a very big snake, after all. But his worry had been misplaced. Snake-momma was kind and gentle with him, and she always whispered sweet words in his ears whenever Little One was scared. Without snake-momma, Little One was sure that he’d never get to sleep.
But sometimes… Sometimes snake-momma’s kind whispers weren’t enough to keep the bad dreams away. Sometimes holding his Padfoot close to his chest wouldn’t be able to shake his fear either. Little One would tremble in his natural bed, snake-momma hissing words of comfort, and his most precious grimm plushie, and try not to cry.
Little One wanted to be brave.
But sometimes Little One couldn’t. Sometimes, nothing could stop the icy cold fear from grabbing hold and making his chest feel all weird and tight. Little One would then hold his Padfoot and his snake-momma and cry.
Whenever that happened, his Papa would find him.
The first time it happened, Little One was so embarrassed. He wanted to be big and brave. He didn’t want his Papa to be ashamed of him. But his Papa had only smiled at him gently, in a way that no one had ever smiled at him before, and picked Little One up and held him close. His Papa rocked him and whispered soft words of encouragement in Little One’s ears until he fell asleep, the comforting thrum of his magic making Little One feel safe and loved.
The longer Little One lived with his Papa, the less the bad dreams would come. With his Papa, Little One had things he’d never dreamed he could have before. Little One had always liked gardens---they were pretty and Little One was always safe when he was outside in the garden. Now, Little One slept in a beautiful garden that was warm, and beautiful and all his.
Little One even made new friends! It had been a long time since anyone had come to see Little One. Well, anyone that wasn’t his Papa or his snake-momma. They had come whispering things to each other, and they looked at Little One with fear. Little One didn’t want his new friends to be afraid of him, though, so he gave them all flowers. That meant they were friends now.
And friends couldn’t hurt each other.
But even with all of the good and happiness Little One felt, sometimes the bad dreams would sneak up on him and scare him really bad.
Like they did tonight.
Little One curled in on himself, his eyes staring up at the canopy of stars that covered him---Papa had done it for him, and even after all this time, it never ceased to amaze him---and fought back terrified sobs. He held his Padfoot close to him, the well-worn plushie held against his face for comfort.
His snake-momma wasn’t here.
Little One didn’t know where she was, but he figured that she was out eating. She had asked him if Little One would be okay without her, and Little One had nodded. Little One was a big boy, and he didn’t need snake-momma to sleep with him.
But now, Little One really wished she was there to make him feel better. Snake-momma would’ve made him feel safe. She would have coiled around him and promised to stand guard so that Little One could go back to sleep.
But snake-momma wasn’t here, and the dark shadows seemed to hold danger. Little One whimpered as the leaves of his oak tree rustled against the wind. He jumped when he heard the waterfall trickle against the shiny stones Papa had made for him in the background.
Suddenly, his big, safe garden didn’t feel so safe anymore.
He gasped when a cloud overshadowed the bright moon, shrouding the room in darkness. Suddenly, he wasn’t in his big, safe garden. Suddenly… he was back there.
“Freak!”
“You’re useless!”
“Look what you’ve done!”
“You’re dead now boy! You hear? I’m gonna kill you!”
“Get back in your cupboard! You worthless burden!”
Little One let out a soft sob, clutching his Padfoot even closer. Little One felt vulnerable in his big, scary garden. He didn’t want to stay in his bed swing, where anything could come out of nowhere and grab him. He was in danger!
Suddenly, Little One jumped off his bed, tumbling to the ground as he scrambled to get out of his room. He was trembling, now. He clutched his precious plushie to his chest as he bolted out of his room. His feet thudded as they fell against the lush carpet, and he desperately ran for the door on the left.
The door was always locked, but the second Little One touched it, it opened. Little One stopped at the threshold, suddenly nervous. Would… Would Papa send him away?
“Little One?”
Before Little One even had the chance to hesitate, his Papa was walking towards him, scooping him up in a tight hug. Little One let out another sob and buried his face in his Papa’s shoulder. His Papa’s arms tighten around him, and Little One wants to cry at the feeling of safe and protected surrounding him.
It took Little One a few seconds to realize that his Papa was speaking to him.
“There, there, dear heart,” he whispered, one hand coming to rub his back soothingly. “You’re safe now. Don’t worry. I’ll protect you.”
Little One took comfort in the warmth that his Papa provided. He slowly felt himself drifting off to sleep, because he knew that his Papa would always protect him. As if he could read his thoughts, his Papa pressed a gentle kiss to his temple and whispered soothingly.
“Nothing will ever hurt you. Not while I’m here.”
Severus Snape was a proud man.
He knew that his pride had ruined him before, several times over, in fact. But Severus refused to admit his wrong (There’s that pride, again.) and so, Severus found himself sitting in a meeting with the very people his Lord had ordered to be captured, regretting his every life’s decision.
He supposed that his mistakes could be traced back to one, singular mistake. One that happened all those years ago, back when he was still a student at Hogwarts. Back when he was young, and naive, and the prospect of a total Wizarding War in Magical Britain seemed like nothing but a bad dream.
Back when he burned the only bridge he had, and was forced to stand back as the fire roared.
Perhaps, then, if he had not done what he did, Lily would still be alive. Perhaps if he had not joined the Dark Lord, he would have still remained her dearest friend. (Perhaps, Severus had begrudgingly conceded after many sleepless nights agonizing over ‘What Ifs’, he would have even gotten over his grudge against Potter. For her sake.) Perhaps, then, he would have been there to protect her.
He hadn’t known that there would be a raid that day.
His Lord had not deigned to tell him, had not even considered that Severus would like to participate in a Death Eater raid on Diagon Alley. Perhaps if he had, Severus would have had the chance to warn her not to go. Perhaps then, Lily would not have been killed in the crossfire. Perhaps then her husband would not have gotten killed as he attempted to revive his fallen wife.
But alas, hindsight was never blind.
He had often found himself wondering, whenever time seemed to move too slow and Severus could not find a way to keep his mind off his demons, about what happened to their son.
Severus knew that Lily had borne a child. Had known that she was a mother. He remembered Black muttering about in his grief, all those years ago, demanding that her child, Harry, be given to him. But in all the years that Severus had been a part of the Order of Phoenix, he had never once seen the rumored child. The perfect mix of James Potter and Lily Evans. Had never heard the patter of tiny feet against the floor, not the laughter of a child.
But then the pain would be too great, and Severus found that he could not spare a thought for the boy. In his grief---and his anger at the Dark Lord---Severus had turned to the only man he could think of.
Albus bloody Dumbledore.
Now, his continued position as the Order’s spy grew tiresome. The war had ended nearly eleven years ago. The Dark Lord continued to rule perfectly, not entirely just, but closer than Magical Britain had seen in a very long time. There were no corrupt Ministers. No second agendas forcing subjugation. The justice system was completely rebuilt, ensuring that buy-outs and corruption was impossible. Dare he say it, the Dark Lord had succeeded in making a better nation.
Yet here he sat, surrounded by wanted criminals, childhood bullies, and Albus bloody Dumbledore talking of overthrowing the surprising peace that had lasted for nearly a decade.
(Damn his pride.)
“Have any more news, Snivellus?” Black sneered, forcing Severus to pay attention, once again, to the bumbling idiots he was surrounded by.
Severus glared at Black, refusing to dignify his smear with a response. Dumbledore merely chuckled and held out his hands in a placating gesture. “Now, now,” he said gently. “Remember Sirius, Severus has put himself in a very precarious situation so that Voldemort might fall.” (Several people flinched, including himself.)
“Yeah? And how much help has he been?” Black countered. Severus turned up his nose at the mongrel.
“Do you think you can do a better job, mutt?” he snapped. Black growled at him like the dog he was. Severus scoffed. How plebeian.
“Now, boys,” Dumbledore said, shaking his head. “We must focus. Severus, my boy, have you found any more clues as to what Voldemort’s weakness may be?”
Severus frowned. There was only one weakness that the Dark Lord had. Severus shifted uncomfortably at the thought of giving up Little One. The green-eyes Inferius---eyes so much like Lily it made him want to cry---who was so gentle and sweet. It would be cruel to bring Little One into this.
He thinks of the way the child would smile brightly at everyone he came across. Offering personalized flowers to each person, as though he was saying their name. Severus frowned as he thought about the permanent vase he had sitting on his table in Spinner's End, almost constantly holding Lilies gifted to him from the boy. He thought about the way his Lord was insane during the war---he shivered as he remembered the near constant cruciatus. Everything changed when Little One arrived.
Yes, Little One grounded his Lord. Without him, Severus was sure he’d fall back into his old habits.
Severus steeled himself, allowing his cold mask to fall into its usual place.
“The Dark Lord has no weakness.” he said firmly.
Yes, Little One must be protected.
The safety of Magical Britain depended on it.