Fallen Embers
Disclaimer : None of these characters are mind, I'm simply borrowing them for a bit. They do, of course, belong to J.K. Rowling. Just to warn you all, this is SLASH. If you don't like that, then kindly leave. If you can be open enough to except such a relationship, then read on. I've been working on this story for almost six months, and I know that it isn't very long, but I hope it finally turned out alright. I've spent way too much time on it, so now it's your turn. I hope you enjoy . . .
Lightning flashes, and Severus Snape peers out the window. His eyes immediately wash over the briefly illuminated sky, a swoosh of branches catching his attention. He looks at it, and his knees crumble, forcing him to grab the desk in order to keep his respectable position. No, that is not true, he no longer cares about his respectability - lying in a heap on the floor is much better than bearing the pain that washes over him.
Memories. Things that he longed to forget years ago, things that he thought, no, he pretended to forget years ago. As the lightning flashes, again illuminating the twisted branches, he notes how ironically they mirror his own twisted fate. The fate that Albus was so kind to bestow upon him just hours ago.
Albus had spoken the words, and things had flooded back that he had never believed could again be revealed. He had thought they had been buried forever, but as the thrashing tree sends tendrils of old sensations through his veins, it is obvious that the dirt has been overturned, old wounds re-opened. Old wounds that would never again scab over.
The wind whistles through the branches as Severus squeezes out the old front doors, attempting to hide his tall, lanky form from view. The night is dark, unnaturally dark. Not one star, one sliver of moon, forces its way through the branches to the ground beyond. Now that the gates are open, the flood begins, the flood that will not wane until it has run its course.
When it is finally over, the tide of ancient memories finally abated, his mind turns to things now at hand. Lily and James Potter, dead. Peter Petigrew, dead. Sirius Black, on his way to Azkhaban at perhaps this very moment. That leaves only one, only one Marauder, his Marauder . . .
Large wings stir the moss and dirt, and he looks up, his thoughts momentarily forgotten. An owl, larger than most, grey, with intermittent specks of every color imaginable, sits herself on his bent knee. Her large, mahogany eyes blink, and Severus shivers, attempting to shake off the feelings of scrutiny. He averts his own, obsidian eyes and reaches for the string around her leg. His fingers stumble, trembling against the string. He focuses on the loose bow, but the emotional trip his mind has been taking has sapped every bit of his energy.
Finally, with a little kicking from the owl herself, the string falls to the dirt, and the parchment rolls into his lap. He eyes it warily, knowing what the last parchment of this sort told him. Thick, opaque color, emblazoned with green scripture. It falls open easily, the script relaying but a few short words.
Severus, I need to speak with you. Meet me in my office. Password is M and M’s
An insistent squawk and a nip from a beak bring him to his feet. In a distant corner of his numb mind he registers that the owl is directing him somewhere, but the trip is lost in shadows and nothingness. Suddenly, he realizes that his feet have stopped moving and he looks up. The owl flaps her wings expectantly and Severus mumbles the password, “M and M’s,” without questioning the absurdity of the words that just passed through his lips.
The trip up long flights of winding staircases, cloaked in darkness with only the sound of flapping feathers to guide him does not leave an imprint in his exhausted memory. Neither does Albus’ insistence on him sitting in one of the large, comfy chairs, or Fawkes, who lands on his shoulder. Beautiful tears fall, pooling around his head, but not leaving a mark or the normal wetness accompanying tears. Instead, the affects are felt in his body, and his mind slowly awakens from its stupor.
“Ah, Severus, I see you have taken the news quite badly, as I feared you would,” Albus begins, handing him a cup of tea and sitting in the armchair next to his.
Severus takes the cup and sips it, grateful for the scalding trail the liquid makes as it flows down his throat, giving his mind something else to rest on. Albus takes these actions as a yes, and studies his former pupil for a while. The young man has done so much for their cause, it is understandable that the death of the Dark Lord has come as a shock for him, but is not so dense as to believe that his pain does not go so much deeper than that.
“I have a proposition for you, Severus. I know that you are still in shock over last night’s events, but I must again ask you to be strong, and show the courage I know you possess,” Albus tells him, and then waits for his words to sink in. Finally, Severus nods, and Albus continues. “I will ask you to do one more thing for our cause. I am in dire need of a Potions instructor, and I would like you to take the job. It will hopefully be just a temporary position, until we sort out the events of the last twenty-four hours.”
Severus’ head comes up in surprise, and he locks his eyes with Albus’. “You know as well as I do, Albus, that Voldemort is not defeated. He has just been slowed in his quest for greater power.”
Albus nods. “I know.”
Severus looks at him questioningly. “Than why are you offering me this position?”
“I would like you here, under my close surveillance, and your previous success with Potions makes you a perfect candidate for the job. Your expertise in Potions as well as in other fields will enrich the students’ experiences greatly.”
Severus snorts at these words. “Nothing I do will ever ‘enrich the students’ experiences’.”
Albus just shakes his head and turns his eyes pleadingly upon the young man in front of him. “Please, Severus.”
Severus thinks for a moment, the process taking longer than it would if he had not been force-fed so much in the last day. Finally, he nods. “I don’t see why not.”
Albus smiles, then his expression turns serious again. “Good. Now that that’s over, I need to ask one more favor of you.”
Severus sighs in resignation. “What is it, Albus?”
“Your first task as Potions master, actually. Now, I know that you know about Remus Lupin, after that little incident,” Albus tells him, hoping to get a reaction, but Severus’ eyes do not linger from his tea cup. “Well, I do not know if you knew that James, Peter, and Sirius were Animagi as well. They would serve as sounding boards, and greatly reduced the pain that Remus went through every month.”
Severus’ mind whirls. How did Albus know about them being Animagi? And, if he did, why hadn’t they been expelled? But, as Albus continues, these questions instantly disapparate, forgotten.
“Now that Remus is the only one left, his transformations will probably return to their old wildness; dangerous and painful. But, there is one thing that may help. It is called the Wolfsbane potion, and was discovered only weeks ago by a witch in Finland. I’d like you to attempt to copy this potion, and make it available for Remus’ use,” Albus watches for the torrent to come, and his wait is not unsatisfied. The cup falls from Severus’ grasp, and it crashes to the floor, teal pottery shattering, sending scolding liquid around his ankles. But, he does not even notice the burns, instead focusing on keeping the memories again at bay.
Albus nods in sympathy, emitting comfort to his distraught new professor. “Severus, I know that this task will be harder for you than anything, harder even than working secretly against Voldemort for so many years, but I must ask it of you. If there were any other way, I wouldn’t, but as it is, I must.”
Severus does not respond, he just sits numbly in his chair, letting the words sink in. Finally, he gets up and makes for the door, turning around only for a moment. “Love is the one thing that you can never fully understand,” Severus tells him, before his black robes swoosh around his burned ankles and he is out of sight, down the dark staircase.
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I hope you enjoyed this, the next chapter will be up shortly. Please, review. Thanks, Mara