Memory Lane
No no no no no, Harry screams silently, knocking his shoulder hard against the crate over and over again until it starts to inch out of the way.
”Harry”, Hermione lets out a choked whisper behind him but he ignores her.
I have to get to Severus, he thinks desperately. He’s not dead, he won’t die, I won’t let him, I will not let him!
Finally, the space between the crate and the wall is large enough for him to squeeze through. The Invisibility Cloak snags on a spliter in the wall, but he doesn’t care. He struggles out of the tunnel and heaves himself onto the rickety floor and half-crawls, half-stumbles over to Severus’ slumped form on the other side of the room. When he reaches him, he topples over and collapses on the floor next to the older man, whose face is now whiter than Harry has ever seen him; he looks half-dead already, even as he’s clutching his own neck to staunch the blood flow and gasping for breath.
”Oh God, oh God”, Harry chokes out, barely aware of Hermione’s spell being lifted. ”Oh no, no no no, Severus, Severus —”
So much blood…
Harry reaches out knocks Severus bloody fingers out of the way and replaces them with his own. He’s shaking terribly, but manages to press a hand firmly enough to the largest gash in Severus neck to stop it from spitting out blood with every one of Severus heartbeat… But despite that, Severus eyelids flicker dangerously and Harry can tell it takes all of Severus strength to keep his eyes focused…
A trembling hand curls against Harry’s chest, gripping the front of his robes weakly, pulling him closer, closer… and the man opens his mouth to speak, but instead of his silky voice a terrible rasping, gurgling noise issues from his throat.
”No”, Harry gasps. ”No, you’re going to be fine, Severus!”
The man’s eyes roll backwards briefly, but with another deep breath that seems to exhaust him completely, he manages to snap his focus back to Harry.
”Take… it…” he gasps.
Harry shakes his head, ”What? What? I don’t understand —!”
”Take… it…”
And then Harry sees it: something other than blood is gushing out of Severus, a silvery blue substance, neither gas not liquid, that leaks from his mouth and ears and eyes… Memories, Harry realises with a jolt. But what am I supposed to do with them?
”H- Hermione —!” he yells desperately, his voice breaking. ”Hermione, I need a container, a — a flask or something, anything!”
She sprints forward and conjures up a flask from thin air and hands it to him with a trembling hand. Her eyes are wide and tear-filled, but Harry can’t think about that now. It would make the situation all too real.
He holds the flask up to Severus face, but the memories slide off it. He puts the flask down on the floor and then grabs his wand with his free hand and gathers up the wisps of memory and gently deposits them into the flask until it’s filled to the brim. Severus grip on his robes relaxes and his hand falls to his side. Harry looks up in panic; Severus eyes are dull, but still resolutely fixed on Harry’s…
”Severus”, Harry sobs. ”Stay with me, please, stay with me…”
”Look… at… me…” Severus gasps quietly.
”No!” Harry exclaims. ”Don’t you dare—!”
Before he even knows what he’s doing, Harry tips himself over and crashes his lips against Severus; the older man’s lips are soft and relaxed against his, and Harry kisses him deeply and desperately; trying to pour all of his emotions into this one touch…
Severus lips part slightly, and Harry lets his tongue dab at the inside of his lower lip teasingly, then pulls back enough to let Severus kiss back — but he doesn’t…
Harry flinches, his heart smattering erratically and his mind short-circuiting as he stares in horror at the man; Severus eyes are mere slits underneath heavy lids, his mouth is slack and his skin white as bone…
”No”, Harry chokes.
”Mate…” Ron’s stunned voice says from somewhere close by, but Harry can’t look at him or Hermione now, can’t deal with their horrified faces or clumsy sympathy.
”No — Severus — please no —”
Harry struggles to untie his Gryffindor tie one-handed and then loops it around Severus’ neck like a makeshift bandage. By the time he’s secured the silky material in place, both his hands are bloody and he feels slightly sick to the stomach.
”Harry…” Hermione whispers tentatively.
”I have to go”, he says swiftly and scrambles to his feet, clutching the flask of Severus memories in his hand and avoiding his friends’ eyes. ”Dumbledore’s Office — the Pensive — I have to — Se- Snape wanted me to see this, whatever it is…”
”Harry”, Hermione whispers again, her voice thick with suppressed emotion.
”No”, Harry says faintly. ”I — I have to do this — I’ll — I’ll see you later —”
And then he runs. Without as much as a glance at his friends, he squeezes into the tunnel again and crawls as if his life depended on it… and it sort of feels like it does, like maybe if he can get to the Pensive quick enough, and see whatever Severus wanted him to see, he can somehow fix things…
”You have fought valiantly”, Voldemort’s cold voice rings out across the grounds of Hogwarts as Harry runs from the Whomping Willow across the lawn outside Hagrid’s Hut and then up to the castle. ”Yet you have sustained heavy losses. If you continue to resist me, you will die… I do not wish this to happen. Every drop of magical blood spilled is a loss and a waste… Lord Voldemort is merciful; I hereby command my forces to retreat immediately. You have one hour; dispose of your dead with dignity, treat your injured…”
Harry runs up the Marble staircase, slipping on something wet on the first landing — Blood? — but doesn’t stop, just continues to scramble forth…
”I speak now, Harry Potter, directly to you”, Voldemort continues. ”You have permitted your friends to die for you, instead of facing me yourself… I shall wait for one hour in the Forbidden Forest. If, at the end of the hour, you have not come to me, have not given yourself up, then the battle will recommence and I will enter the fray myself… I will find you, Harry Potter, and I will punish every last man, woman and child who has tried to conceal you from me…One hour…”
Harry skids across the last landing and then hurtles up the remaining stairs two at a time, his chest is tight and his face cold and itchy from the tears that keep streaming down his cheeks… He wishes he could tear out his heart, scoop out his insides, everything that makes him feel and dispose of it… What was the point of feeling anyway? What was so good about love, when all it did was cause you this unbearable pain?
Dumbledore always went on and on about love, and how it was the one power Harry held over Voldemort… But he doesn’t see it; after all he is the one in pain now, not Voldemort… So how is love an advantage?
As Harry runs down the corridor, his footsteps echo eerily around him… The corridor is completely deserted. Even the ghosts seem to have retreated to the Great Hall… Dispose of your dead, treat your injured…
I wonder who else is dead, Harry thinks with a nauseating jolt.
He thunders to a stop next to the large Griffin gargoyle and without thinking shouts ”Dumbledore” and to his immense relief, the slightly battered gargoyle steps aside, revealing the spiral staircase that leads to the Headmaster’s office, and Harry hurtles up them.
Bursting through the doors, he is met by a chorus of startled gasps and yells from the portraits in the room, but he ignores them all. Scanning the room quickly, he sees the stone Pensive in its usual place in the cabinet in the corner and hurries over to it. He grabs it with both hands and heaves it onto the desk, then pours Severus’ memories into it… they swirl, silver-white and strange, and without hesitating, Harry dives —
He falls headlong into sunlight and chirping bird song, his feet connect with warm ground and when he straightens up and looks around, he immediately spots the huge chimney… Spinner’s End, he thinks with a jolt. Severus’s home… But he isn’t exactly by Severus’s house, nor at the street Spinner’s end, but at a playground nearby. He can see two little girls on each of the swings, one with red hair and one with mousy brown.
Looking down, Harry sees a young black-haired boy next to him and realises with a jolt that this must be Severus when he was barely ten years old… Harry feels a lump in his throat growing, but forces himself to stay calm. Young Severus is skinny, almost unhealthily so and he’s got the pallor of someone who isn’t properly looked-after. His hair is long and messy, hanging in clumps around his sallow face. And he is wearing almost comically mismatched clothes, his jeans at least three inches too short but his coat over-large and clearly handed down from someone much bigger, maybe even a grown man judging by the way it hang off young Severus’ lithe frame and drags on the ground after him.
”Lily, don’t do it!” the mousy-haired girl shouts and Harry glances over at the swingset again, realising with another jolt that the beaming, red-haired girl must be his mother…
Severus is watching Lily as well and there’s a longing in his eyes; Harry doesn’t want to think about that, he already knows what Severus felt for his mother and he really doesn’t want to think about it, especially not now… He turns to look at the girls again. Lily lets go of her swing and jumps into the air, but instead of crashing to the ground she seems to soar for a moment before landing gently on her feet.
”Mummy told you not to!” the other girl says, and Harry realises this must be his aunt Petunia.
Lily picks a flower from the ground and holds it in the palm of her hand; she shows Petunia, but Harry can’t see what she’s making it do from where he’s standing and he feels reluctant to step away from Severus — even though he knows this is a memory, and this representation of a ten-year-old Severus isn’t even aware of Harry’s presence, he still can’t seem to bring himself to leave the boy’s side…
”Stop it!” Petunia shrieaks indignantly.
”It’s not hurting you!” Lily says, but throws the flower to the ground again all the same.
”It’s not right”, Petunia insists. ”How do you do it anyway?”
”It’s obvious, isn’t it?” Severus says and walks out from behind the bushes where he was hiding.
The girls startle, and Petunia runs backwards towards the swinset again, gripping the swing pole like a shield.
”What’s obvious?” Lily asks curiously.
”I know what you are”, Severus says quietly. ”You’re… you’re a witch.”
”That’s not a very nice thing to say to somebody!” Lily says affronted and turns away swiftly and joins her sister at the swing set.
”No!” Severus says quickly and hurries after her, his large coat flapping behind him, eeriely reminiscent of the adult Severus Snape’s billowing robes. ”You are! You are a witch. I’ve been watching you for a while. It’s nothing wrong with that — my mum’s a witch as well, and I’m a wizard!”
”Wizard!” Petunia shrieks and laughs cruelly. ”I know who you are! You’re that Snape boy — They live down Spinner’s End by the river”, she informs her sister with a look of disdain on her face that Harry recognises all too well, but it’s still absurd to see it on such a young girl’s face.
Severus glares back at her, but his cheeks are definitely rosy with embarassment.
”Why have you been spying on us?” Petunia demands.
”Haven’t been spying!” Severus snarls. ”I wouldn’t spy on you anyway, you’re a muggle!”
Although Petunia clearly doesn’t know what muggle means, there’s no mistaking Severus tone. She draws herself up indignantly and says ”Come on, Lily! We’re leaving!”
Lily follows Petunia immediately and glares at Severus as she walks past him. Severus stares after them with a look of bitter disappointment on his face —
The scene dissolves and before Harry really knows what’s happened, his surroundings have reformed and he’s standing in a small thicket of trees. Harry looks around desperately until he catches sight of them: they’re sitting cross-legged on the ground, facing each other. Severus has finally taken off his gigantic coat and he’s tucked his hair behind his ears, so that his face seems more open and vulnerable… He moves his hands slowly but emphatically as he talks, Lily is staring wide-eyed as she listens… Harry finds himself smiling: they’re so small and innocent still…
He knows where he’s heading — Severus has already told him this story once before — and he doesn’t want to see it, he wants to stay here; oh if I could stay right here forever…
But the scenes keep playing out, then dissolving, changing… Harry stands back and watches as Severus grows up, alongside his mother Lily, and later on when the memories take place at Hogwarts, he gets to see his father James, and Sirius and Remus as well… but it’s with decidedly mixed feelings that he watches the grinning, almost leering faces of the young Marauders… He doesn’t know if the memories are subjective and the Marauders are remembered by the adult Severus as particularly cruel, or if his father and godfather really had been that viscious…
Harry hovers uncertainly next to a teenage Severus who sits hunched over by a tree near the lake, pouring over some ancient tome and basically licking his wounds after yet another run-in with the Gryffindors. His eyes are red and swollen, so he’s clearly been crying, but Harry didn’t get to see that part of the memory… He still feels like he’s intruding, even now — but Severus obviously wanted him to watch all the memories he extracted, including this one, so he stays put…
Lily approaches Severus carefully and when he doesn’t say anything to her, she sinks down on the ground next to him and laces their hands together. The scowl on Severus’ face quickly fades, although it’s clear to Harry that he’s trying to hold onto it.
”They’re a bunch of idiots”, Lily says, almost conversationally.
”They’re your friends!” Snape spits, managing to regain a little control over his face again.
”They are not my friends”, Lily says savagely. ”Just because they’re in my house. I’d never be friends with such bullies, Sev. You know me… You’re my friend.”
A sad but hopeful look crosses over Snape’s face then and he glances at her face uncertainly.
”They’re right though”, he whispers. ”I am a queer.”
Harry’s heart skips a beat.
Wait, wha— what? what what what? he thinks, and he is so busy wondering if the Pensieve comes with a Rewind button that he almost misses Lily’s response.
First she shakes out her red curls with an air of someone whose got no patience for silly things, but then she gently squeezes Severus hand and says, ”You’re a homosexual, that doesn’t make you queer.”
Harry’s heart is racing now. Severus is gay? But he said — wait, what did he say?
”Well, maybe I’m both”, Snape says with a hesitant twitch of his lips.
Lily purses her lips and glares at him, then a beaming smile breaks out on her face and she laughs freely.
”Don’t be silly”, she says, still chuckling.
He said he loved my mother, Harry thinks firmly. So — Well, I guess I love Hermione, but I don’t fancy her… Maybe that’s what he meant? Could that be it —?
”Besides”, Lily adds more seriously. ”Don’t pay attention to those idiots, they’re probably all repressed homosexuals themselves and that’s why they’re giving you such a hard time.”
Snape snorts a little, it’s half-amused, half-derisive.
”Potter isn’t homosexual, Lils. He’s completely in love with you…as you well know.”
Lily sniffs and looks away, ”No I don’t know.”
Snape rolls his eyes a little at her fondly, but doesn’t say anything else — Harry gets the feeling that this is not the first time they’ve had this conversation.
Harry’s heart is still beating hard as the scene dissolves around him, and he barely even pays attention when the next memory plays out — he’s seen it before though, it’s the same memory that he watched in Fifth Year while Severus left the office, and it was uncomfortable enough to watch once, he really doesn’t need to see it again…
”I don’t need help from filthy little Mudbloods like her!”
Harry winces, Yeah definitely don’t need to see this twice…
The scene dissolves before James makes up his mind over whether or not to remove Severus pants and Harry finds himself standing next to the portrait of the Fat Lady.
”I’m sorry”, Fifteen-year-old Severus is saying.
Lily is wearing a dressing gown and is standing with her arms firmly crossed, ”I’m not interested.”
”I’m sorry!” Severus says again, a desperate note in his voice now and his eyes are pleading, but Lily gazes back with a stony expression on her face.
”Save your breath. I only came out because Mary told me you were threatening to sleep here.”
”I was. I would have done. I never meant to call you Mudblood, it just —”
”Slipped out?” Lily guesses coldly. ”It’s too late, Sev. I’ve made excuses for you for years. None of my friends can understand why I even talk to you. You and your precious Death Eater friends… You see, you don’t even deny it! You don’t even deny that’s what you’re all aiming to be! You can’t wait to join You-Know-Who, can you?”
Severus opens his mouth to speak, but no sound can be heard and after a horrible moment of tense silence he shuts it again without a word.
”I can’t pretend anymore, Severus. You’ve chosen your way, I’ve chosen mine.”
”No —” he says in a strangles voice. ”Please — listen, I didn’t mean —”
”— to call me Mudblood? But you call everyone of my birth Mudblood, Severus. Why should I be any different?”
With a final contemptuous look, Lily twirls away from Severus and climbs back through the portrait hole.
The corridor dissolves and this time it takes a little longer for the memory to form… But when it does, Harry finds himself on a hilltop, with cold wind whipping him around the face and pulling his overly-long hair.
”Don’t kill me!”
Harrry whirls around, heart pounding. A young, but definitely grown-up Severus is kneeling not five feet away from him. His eyes are wide with fright and desperation, his face white-pale…
”That was not my intention”, the familiar, calm voice of Albus Dumbledore says.
The old man slowly approaches Severus and looks down at him with an almost impassive face, almost save for the calm fury in his blue eyes…
”Well, Severus? What message does Lord Voldemort have for me?”
”No — no message — I’m here on my own account!” Severus says, wringing his hands anxiously. ”I — I come with a w-warning — n-no — a request — please —”
”What request could a Death Eater make of me?” Dumbledore asks calmly.
”The — the prophecy — the prediction — Trelawny…”
”Ah, yes”, Dumbledore says and nods calmly. ”How much of it did you relay to Lord Voldemort?”
”Everything — everything I heard”, Severus says. ”That is why — it is for that reason — he thinks it means Lily Evans! Oh please, you must protect her, you must save her!”
”The prophecy did not refer to a woman”, Dumbledore counters, but there is a flash of understanding in his eyes. ”It spoke of a boy — born at the end of July —”
”You know what I mean! He thinks it means her son! He is going to hunt her — them — down and kill them all!”
”If she means so much to you, surely Lord Voldemort will spare her? Could you not ask for mercy for the mother, in exchange for the son?”
”I have — I have asked him —” Severus stammers.
”You disgust me”, Dumbledore says and for the first time his impassive face contorts with anger and disgust as he stares down his nose at Severus who is trembling now. ”You do not care then about the deaths of her husband and child? They can die, as long as you have what you want?”
”Hide them all, then”, Severus croaks miserably. ”Keep her — them — safe. Please!”
”And what will you give me in return, Severus?” Dumbledore says and Harry is taken aback by the swift question — they’re bargaining, over my life, and the lives of my parents, Harry thinks and feels his stomach turn at the idea.
”In — in return?” Severus says quietly, gaping at Dumbledore and Harry is sure he’ll refuse to answer, but then a look of determination settles over the man’s face and he draws himself up a little. ”Anything.”
The hilltop dissolves again and the process seems to take a lot longer this time, as if the next memory was reluctant to play… and slowly, Harry becomes aware of a terrible noise that grows in volume as the memory takes shape around him; it’s like a wounded animal wailing in pain — Harry shivers uncomfortably and blinks his eyes open; he is standing in Dumbledore’s office again.
Little has changed, except there are more of Dumbledore’s silvery instruments spread out over the room, and of course the man himself is sitting behind his desk and staring solemnly at something behind Harry…
With a sickening jolt, Harry turns around and realises what is making the noise… Severus is sitting on the floor, slumped over and curled in on himself, his delicate hands are fisted in his black hair and his whole body is shaking. Harry automatically springs forward with an involuntary impulse to… do something, anything, to ease some of the man’s pain, to make the noise stop, to just gather him up in his arms and hold him while he cries… But of course Harry can do none of those things, he is just a ghost in this scene and whatever has caused Severus to unravel like this — and Harry can guess what that might be — has long since transpired.
He glances over at Dumbledore though, feeling a stab of anger at the older wizard for just sitting there and staring calmly — always so bloody calm! — and not doing anything to comfort Severus…
”I thought… you promised… you said — going to — k-keep her s-safe —” Severus stutters between sobs.
”Lily and James put their faith in the wrong person”, Dumbledore says, still as calmy as ever. ”Much like yourself, Severus… Weren’t you hoping that Lord Voldemort might save her after all?”
Another frail wail squeezes its way out of Severus throat and he seems to curl in on himself further, tighter, like a coiled spring, trembling with the effort to keep himself together.
”Her boy survived”, Dumbledore says and his tone finally grows a little gentle, but even Harry gets how that would be of little comfort to the young man whose whole world has been rent apart. ”Her son lives…”
Severus head gives a jerky shake underneath the shelter of his fists, as if flinching away from an intrusive fly.
”He has her eyes…” Dumbledore continues.
”Don’t!” Severus screams. ”Gone… dead…”
”Is this remorse then, Severus?”
”I wish — I wish I were dead —!”
”And what use would that be to anyone?” Dumbledore counters coldly and Harry stares incredulously at him. ”If you truly loved Lily Evans, then your way forward is quite clear.”
For a long moment Severus simply gasps for breath, but finally he peers out at Dumbledore through the slim wrists in front of his face, like bars on a prison cell, and hiccoughs pitifully, ”W-What — What do you m-mean?”
”You know how and why she died. Make sure it was not in vain… Help me protect her son, Ha—”
”He does not need protection! The Dark Lord is g-gone —”
”It is my firm belief that he will be back, and when he returns Harry Potter will be in terrible danger.”
There is another long pause, but Severus finally manages to get both his breathing and his tears under control and Harry watches with a twinge in his heart as the familiar coldness of Professor Severus Snape settles over the young man, ”Very well… But never — never tell, Dumbledore! This must be between us, swear it! I cannot bear… especially Potter’s son… I want your word!”
”My word, Severus, that I shall never reveal the best of you?” Dumbledore sighs. ”If you insist…”
The circular walls around them seem to shudder, and at first Harry isn’t sure what happened, but as he finds Severus suddenly on his feet and pacing between Harry and Dumbledore’s desk, he realises the office must have dissolved and reformed again just as quickly, as some time has passed. Severus is furious, and by the sound of it he’s the middle of a tirade that the Dumbledore sitting at the desk this time around seems to barely pay attention to, in fact he is flicking through a copy of Transfiguration Today with an air of calm that is now bordering on nonchalance.
”— mediocre, arrogant as his father and like his father before him a determined rule-breaker, delighted to find himself famous, attention-seeking and impertinent —”
Harry frowns, not sure he wants to see this… and part of him wonders why Severus would want him to…
”You see what you expect to see, Severus”, Dumbledore calmly interrupts Severus tirade without looking up from his magazine. ”Other teachers have reported that the boy is modest, likeable and reasonably talented. Personally, I find him an engaging child.”
”You would”, Severus mutters savagely, still pacing. ”You and Minerva… your golden Gryffindor… only care about the Quidditch Cup…”
”That is hardly fair, Severus”, Dumbledore says. ”But speaking of quidditch…”
The office dissolves again and in a whirl of colour the world darkens around Harry, and he finds himself standing in the Entrance Hall, secretly squeezed in-between Dumbledore and Severus where they stand watching the last stragglers from the Yule Ball head up the marble staircase towards their beds.
”Well?” Dumbledore says.
”Karkaroff’s Mark is becoming darker too”, Severus murmurs. ”He is panicking. He fears retribution; you know how much help he gave the Ministry after the Dark Lord fell…”
Severus looks sideways at Dumbledore’s profile, and Harry almost catches his eyes and his stomach flutters.
”Karkaroff intends to flee if the Mark burns.”
”Does he?” Dumbledore says softly, but there is not a trace of surprise on his face. ”And are you tempted to join him?”
”No”, Severus says immediately, turning to watch as Fleur Delacour and Roger Davies stumbles in from the grounds, both giggling. ”I am not such a coward.”
”No”, Dumbledore agrees. ”You are a braver man by far than Igor Karkaroff… You know, I sometimes wonder if we don’t Sort too soon…”
With a familiar twinkle in his eyes, Dumbledore turns to walk away, leaving Severus and Harry alone in the Entrance Hall for a second, both stricken and staring after him.
The Entrance Hall and Severus whirl around Harry and he finds himself standing in the middle of Dumbledore’s office once more… the old man is slumped sideways in his chair, his eyes heavy-lidded as Severus is muttering incantations over his blackened hand while pouring some kind of potion into his slack mouth.
After a moment or two, Dumbledores eyeslids flutter and he sits up a little straighter, coming to…
”Why”, snarls Severus. ”Why did you put on that ring? Surely you must have sensed the dark curse that has been put on it? Why would you even touch it?”
”I… was a fool”, Dumbledore murmurs with a grimace, nudging the cracked ring of Marvolo Gaunt. ”Sorely tempted…”
”It is a miracle you even made it here alive!” Severus says, his voice rising. ”That ring carried a curse of extraordinary power, to contain it as all we can hope for; I have trapped it one hand for the time being—”
Dumbledore raises his blackened hand and peers at it almost curiously. ”You have done very well, Severus… How long do you think I have?”
Severus hesitates, and tenses up, ”I cannot tell, maybe a year… There is no halting this kind of curse forever. It will spread, eventually. It is the sort of curse that strenghtens over time.”
”I am fortunate, extremely fortunate that I have you, Severus”, Dumbledore smiles but this seems to have been the wrong thing to say to the already furious man who immediately whirls around and starts pacing the office, ”If you had summoned me a little earlier, I might have been able to do more! Buy you more time!”
With great effort, Dumbledore straightens himself up further in his chair, ”Well, really, this makes matters much more straightforward… I refer to the plan Lord Voldemort is revolving around me. His plan to have the poor Malfoy boy murder me.”
Severus stares at Dumbledore, stricken and extremely pale in the face. He walks back to the desk and sinks down in the chair opposite Dumbledore, the very same chair Harry has sat in countless of times when meeting with the Headmaster.
”The Dark Lord does not expect Draco to succeed. This is merely punishment for Lucius’s recent failures… slow torture for Draco’s parents, while they watch him fail and then pays the price…”
”In short”, Dumbledore says. ”The boy has a death sentence pronounced upon him as surely as I have… Now, I should have thought the natural successor to the job, once Draco fails, is yourself?”
There is a tense moment of silence, then Severus gives a curt nod, ”That, I think, is the Dark Lord’s plan.”
”Lord Voldemort foresees a moment in the near future when he will no longer need a spy at Hogwarts?”
”He believes the school will soon be in his grasp, yes.”
”And if it does indeed fall into his grasp, I have your word that you will do everything in your power to keep the students safe?”
Severus gives him a half-hearted glare, as if to suggest otherwise was a great insult to him and knowing the man as well as he does by now, Harry thinks it probably was.
”Yes”, Severus hisses.
Dumbledore nods, satisfied with the answer and leans back in his throne-like seat, ”Now then, your first priority will be to discover what Draco is up to. A frightened teenage boy is a danger to others as well as himself. Offer him help and guidance. He ought to accept, he likes you —”
”— not as much as he used to”, Severus admits. ”He feels that I have usurped Lucius’s position with the Dark Lord.”
”All the same, do try. I am concerned for the accidental victims of whatever scheme the boy might come up with. Ultimately, of course, there is only one thing to be done if we are to save him from Lord Voldemort’s wrath…”
Severus eyebrows shoots up towards his hairline, ”Are you intending to let him kill you?” he asks sardonically.
”Certainly not. It must be you who kills me, Severus…”
”Of course, would you like me to do it now?” Severus says sarcastically. ”Or would you like a few moments to set your affairs in order?”
”Oh, not guite yet”, Dumbledore smiles gently. ”I daresay the moment will present itself… Given what has happened tonight though, we can be sure that it will happen within a year.”
”If you don’t mind dying”, Severus snarls. ”Then why not let Draco do it?”
”The boy’s soul is not yet so damaged. I would not have it ripped apart on my account.”
”And my soul, Dumbledore? Mine? Already shredded beyond hope, is it? What’s one more evil deed—?”
”That is not what I meant, my boy”, Dumbledore says calmly. ”You alone know whether it will harm your soul to help an old man avoid pain and humiliation… I ask this one, great favour of you, Severus, because death is coming for me as surely as Chudley Cannons will finish bottom of this year’s league. I confess I should prefer a quick, painless exit to the prolonged and messy affair it will be if, for instance, Greyback is involved, or dear Bellatrix who always did like to play with her food before eating it…”
The atmosphere in the office is cold as ice, but finally Severus gives Dumbledore a tiny nod and Harry swallows thickly as he glimpses the sheen of unshed tears in the man’s eyes before he swiftly looks away.
”Thank you, Severus…” Dumbledore murmurs gently. ”Now, I believe it is still essential for Harry to learn Occlumency — don’t start —”
Dumbledore holds up his good hand to stop Severus’s protest and the other man closes his mouth again with a snap and glares back.
”Once more, I must ask too much of you Severus…”
The office disappears once more in a whirl of colours and Harry finds himself standing in the street outside number four Privet Drive and his stomach flips over; Severus is wearing his travel Cloak and scowling at the house in front of him. Clicking Dumbledore’s Deluminator, he extinguises the light of the streetlamp over his head and then strides purposefully up the driveway. Harry hurries to keep up with him, his heart hammering wildly as Severus presses the doorbell.
With the weirdest sense of deja vu, Harry watches the scene between Severus and Uncle Vernon except this time from the opposite angle. When he sees himself thundering down the stairs and pausing halfway down with a deer-in-headlights look on his face, it’s almost too much.
Following Severus and the memory of himself into the livingroom, Harry tunes out the conversation and amuses himself with watching the Dursleys up close instead.
Finally when his memory self sprints out of the room, Harry turns back to look at Severus, wondering why the man would decide to include a memory that Harry already knew about having been present himself.
”I was given very clear directives before coming here tonight”, Severus murmurs quietly, startling Harry and he looks between the Dursleys and Severus as the man’s eyes seem to darken further and he advances on the three muggles in the sofa.
”And believe me, if Dumbledore had not made me swear to leave all three of you untouched…” he trails off suggestively and favours Uncle Vernon with a piercing glare.
Uncle Vernon’s mouth moves desperately, but Severus’s silence jinx is making him unable to speak. Severus eyes glitter dangerously, ”I would have taken great pleasure in treating you exactly as you have treated Harry all these years… maybe even worse, I do believe I can be a bit more creative than you yourself has been… unfortunately, I have given my word—”
The Dursleys sag with relief.
”—However…” Severus adds with a malicious smirk. ”I could always come back… when you least expect it…”
Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia stare in horror. Dudley’s eyes roll back into his head and he slumps sideways onto his mother’s shoulder and she jumps with a gasp, ”D-Dudders—?” she whispers. ”W-What did you d-d-do —?”
”Nothing yet”, Severus says silkily. ”But do remember, that if I hear that you have mistreated Harry in any way again… I will be back.”
The sound of thundering footsteps can be heard from the hallway and Severus straightens up from his intimidating pose, looming over the Dursleys, and without another word he swirls around and leaves the room.
Harry stares after him in shock, rooted to the spot. The sound of the front door slamming shut shakes him out of his stupor and he hurries to run after Severus and himself, but before he makes it out of the livingroom the world starts spinning around him once more.
He blinks his eyes open and finds himself in a different livingroom and his heart leaps — Spinner’s End! — he whirls around and sees himself kneeling in the middle of the floor and clutching his own stomach and heaving… The panic attack, he remembers and for a second it’s like he’s watching the memory from outside and reliving it inside his own mind at the same time…
Severus strides past him into the room and without as much as a split-second’s hesitation the man kneels next to the distraught boy on the floor and puts his arms around him; Harry watches in morbid fascination as the memory of himself latches onto Severus and continues to cry into his chest while the man murmurs gently, his mouth brushing the boy’s — Harry’s — forehead through his messy fringe before he ducks his head and buries his face harder against his chest.
Severus sighs, a pained look flickering onto his face as he tightens his embrace and gently rubs his hand between Harry’s shoulderblades.
Harry follows in a daze as Severus guides Memory Harry into the spare bedroom and tucks him into bed, where he promptly falls asleep. Severus sighs again and sits down on the side of the bed for a moment, looking just as exhausted as the sleeping Harry… he reaches out with a hand and gently moves a few hair strands over the boy’s forehead, revealing the lightening bolt scar…
”What are you doing to me, Harry?” the man murmurs.
Then removing his hand again as though burnt, he swiftly stands up and strides out of the room again.
What the Hell was that? Harry thinks in panic. What does that even mean? What are you trying to tell me, Sev—?
The room dissolves around him and he finds himself in the grounds outside Hogwarts, where Severus and Dumbledore are strolling side by side. Cursing silently, he jogs to catch up with them.
”What are you doing with Potter all these evenings you are closeted together?” Severus says abruptly.
”I spend time with Harry because I have things to discuss with him, information I must give him before it is too late.”
”Information”, Severus repeats.
”It is essential that I give the boy enough information for him to do what he needs to do, and as we both know I have limited time.”
”And why may I not have the same information?”
”I prefer not to put all my secrets in one basket, particularly not a basket that spends so much time dangling on the arm of Lord Voldemort—”
”Which I do on your orders!”
”And you do it extremely well”, Dumbledore says gently. ”Do not think that I underestimate the constant danger you are in, Severus… to give Voldemort what appears to be valuable information while withholding the essentials is a job I would entrust to nobody but you.”
”Yet you confide much more in a boy who has a direct connection into the Dark Lord’s mind!”
”Voldemort fears that connection”, Dumbledore says. ”It is indeed in Harry’s best interest to have mastered Occlumency, so that Voldemort might not use his own mind against him, but I do not believe he will ever attempt to possess him again… When he tried it in the Ministry for Magic he got a small taste of what sharing Harry’s mind would mean for him, and it was pain such as he has never experienced before or after… Lord Voldemort’s soul, as maimed as it is, cannot bear close contact with a soul like Harry’s… it’s like touching his tongue to frozen steel, or sticking his hand into a flame —”
”Souls? We were talking about minds!” Severus interrupts and Harry notices that he looks slightly uncomfortable.
”In the case of Harry and Lord Voldemort, to speak of one is to speak of the other…” Dumbledore slows down his pace and with a cursory glance around them to make sure they are alone, he lowers his voice further. ”After you have killed me, Severus —”
”You refuse to tell me everything, yet you expect that small service of me!” Severus snarls, and Harry glances around just like Dumbledore and discovers that they are standing at the edge of the Forbidden Forest and realises with a jolt that they aren’t alone as Dumbledore had assumed, because this is the conversation that Hagrid had overheard. ”You take a great deal for granted, Dumbledore! Perhaps I have changed my mind!”
”You gave me your word, Severus”, Dumbledore says with a steely look. ”And speaking of services you owe me, I thought you agreed to keep a close eye on our young Slytherin friend?”
Severus presses his lips together and glares back at Dumbledore, looking nearly mutinous.
Dumbledore sighs, looking every one of his 100+ years suddenly, ”All right, my boy… come to my office tonight at eleven, and I will tell you…”
Back in Dumbledore’s office, the windows dark and everything silent, Harry sidles up to the chair in front of Dumbledore’s desk where Severus sits stoically and stares intently at Dumbledore. Harry reaches out a hand and places it on top of Severus shoulder… it rests there, but Harry can’t feel the texture of the man’s robes against his palm nor the warmth of his body. He feels nothing, like his hand is really resting in mid-air… but he leaves it where it is all the same.
”Harry must not know, not until the very last moment, not until it is absolutely necessary, otherwise how could he have the strength to do what must be done?” Dumbledore says.
”But what must he do?” Severus asks quietly and there’s a spark of fear in his eyes.
”That is between Harry and me. Now, listen closely, Severus… There will come a time — after my death — do not argue, do not interrupt! There will come a time when Lord Voldemort will seem to fear for the life of his snake.”
”For Nagini?” Severus says blankly.
”Yes. If he stops sending her away to do his bidding and instead keeps her close to his side, under magical protection, then it will be safe to tell Harry.”
”Tell him what?”
Dumbledore closes his eyes and heaves a great sigh, then begins to speak quickly but clearly, as if wanting to get the words out as quickly as possible so that the whole scene might be over, ”Tell him that on the night Lord Voldemort tried to kill him, when Lily cast her own life between them as a shield, the Killing Curse rebounded upon Lord Voldemort and a fragment of Voldemort’s soul was blasted apart from the whole and latched itself onto the only living soul left in that collapsed building… Part of Voldemort’s soul lives inside Harry, and it is that that has created the connection between their minds and it is also the reason Harry is a Parselmouth. And while that fragment of soul, missed by Voldemort, remains attached to and protected by Harry, Lord Voldemort cannot die…”
Harry feels like he is watching the scene between the two men as if staring down a long tunnel, their voices seeming to come from far away and distorted slightly as if filtered by water…
”So the boy… the boy must die?” Severus asks quietly.
”And Voldemort himself must do it, Severus. That is essential.”
There is a long moment of silence, but it isn’t until Severus speaks again that Harry realises the man has started trembling, his hand, although still resting atop the man’s shoulder, unaware of the movement.
”I thought… all these years, I thought… we were protecting him…”
”We have protected him, because it has been essential to teach him, to raise him, to let him try his strength”, Dumbledore says, his eyes still firmly squeezed shut. ”Meanwhile the connection between them grows ever stronger, a parasitic growth: sometimes I have thought he suspects it himself. If I know him, he will have arranged matters so that when he does set out to meet his death, it will, truly, mean the end of Voldemort.”
”You have kept him alive so that he can die at the right moment?” Severus says, his voice dangerously low.
Dumbledore finally opens his eyes and stares sadly at him, ”Don’t be shocked, Severus. How many men and women have you watched die?”
”Lately, only those whom I have failed to save”, he says swiftly and stands him, Harry’s hand slides off him as though he were a ghost, and something about that makes his chest tighten. ”You have used me…”
”Meaning?”
”I have spied for you, and lied for you, put myself in mortal danger for you. I have done everything you ever asked of me. And it was all supposed to be to keep Lily’s son safe — to keep Harry safe — all of it — was for him!” Severus voice rises as though of its own accord and the man is shaking with barely controlled emotion from head to foot, his eyes glistening with unshed tears. ”And now you tell me you have been raising him like a pig for slaughter —!”
”This is touching, Severus”, Dumbledore says calmly. ”Have you seriously grown to care for the boy after all?”
There is a moment of such intense silence that the air seems dense with it, and Harry’s ears are ringing, his heart pounding so furiously, so painfully… Severus face shutters, and he blinks the tears away, ”I will never forgive you, Albus.”
Dumbledore seems almost stricken, and a couple of tears well up in his eyes as well and run freely down his face to disappear into his beard. Severus stares at him coolly, then turns away so slowly that his robes don’t even move and leaves the office again. The door clicks shut with such finality that Harry almost wishes he’d slammed it instead.
The scene shifts again. The windows are bright with daylight and it is Severus who is sitting behind the desk now. He is talking to the portrait of Dumbledore, but he seems to be avoiding looking directly at it.
Suddenly Phineas Nigellus comes running into his own picture frame, ”Headmaster Snape! They are camping in the Forest of Dean! The Mudblood —”
”Do not use that word!”
”— the Granger girl, then, she mentioned it as she opened the bag and I heard her!”
”Good, very good!” Dumbledore’s portrait cries. ”Now, Severus, the sword! And do not forget that it must be taken under conditions of need and valour — and he must not know that you give it!”
”I know”, Severus says curtly and approaches the portrait of Dumbledore and pulls it aside to reveal a hidden cavity behind it from which he pulls out the Sword of Gryffindor. ”I have a plan…”
The office dissolves and Harry is standing in the forest clearing next to the frozen pool. He looks around quickly, but can’t spot his memory self… He looks up into Severus face and realises the man is staring in horror at something, and following his line of sight Harry notices the air bubbles rising to the surface of the pool… I’m already drowning, he thinks numbly.
Severus swears loudly next to him and then runs over to pool, kicking off his boots and tearing the travel cloak from his shoulders before diving into the hole in the ice. After a couple of seconds, both Severus and the unconscious form of Harry himself emerges from the water… Harry tentatively takes a few steps closer as Severus heaves Memory Harry’s lifeless body onto the ground next to the pool and checks his pulse with shaking hands…
He then pinches the boy’s nose and starts giving him mouth-to-mouth, ducking his head down to put his ears against his chest, listening for his heartbeat before breathing into his mouth once more…
Memory Harry comes to with a jerk and starts coughing up water. Severus pounds him on the back and then proceeds to stroke him roughly over his shoulders. Harry can see his own spine through the pale skin, his shoulderblades protruding like some withered wings…
God, I’m so skinny, he thinks.
Used as he is to his muggle clothes hanging off him since they’re usually Dudley’s cast-offs, and not really in the habit of checking his own reflection on a regular basis, he hadn’t realised just how much weight he’d lost during all those hungry months…
Severus helps pull his clothes on, then drapes his own travel cloak around him like a blanket, before he starts bellowing about Harry being stupid. Harry really doesn’t need to hear that twice, but Severus obviously seemed to think he should… he would, Harry thinks with a detached kind of wry amusement.
”You kissed me”, the shaking boy says in a small voice, shutting Severus up and he stares down at the boy as though he’d just slapped him across the face.
The forest dissolves and once again, Harry is standing in the Headmaster’s office at Hogwarts. Severus is pacing again, but it’s even more frantic than the previous times and he is clutching his hair and digging the heels of his hands into his eyes, ”Stupid, stupid, stupid —!”
He looks like a caged animal, and glancing at the many portraits on the walls around him, Harry thinks he is in a way.
”Why did I do that — why — should have known he’d remember — should have obliviated him —”
”Yes”, the portrait of Dumbledore pipes up. ”Why did you kiss the boy, Severus?”
”I did not kiss him!” Severus snarls and whirls around the scowl at the portrait who simply peers back at him calmly. ”I — He kissed me —!”
”And you didn’t kiss him back”, Dumbledore says gently.
”That’s not — no! — I simply — he surprised me —!”
”Naturally”, the portrait of Dumbledore says. ”Perfectly understandable.”
”Shut up!” Severus snarls.
”You know, he is of age now —”
”I said shut up!”
”Of course”, the portrait of Dumbledore says and then continues talking anyway. ”I’m merely suggesting that it wouldn’t be completely out of order if you did harbour feelings for—”
”Oh no!” Severus says shrilly. ”Not out of order, you say? Well, aren’t I fortunate to have your blessing! Tell me, when should I confess my undying love for the boy, before or after I tell him he’s been raised for the slaughter like some innocent piglet —?”
The portrait of Dumbledore finally stays silent. Severus sinks into his chair with a choked whimper and hides his face in his hands.
”I’d tell him before”, the portrait of Phineas Nigellus pipes up on the opposite wall.