Our Little One

.~*~.Our little one. ~*~.

Chapter Twenty-Three

Suspicions

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This part of the chapter is not from any particular first-person POV.

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Severus dreamed.

It was innocent enough: A corridor he vaguely recognized to be one of the endless halls of the Malfoy Manor. A row of portraits hung on the wall.

The portraits were very familiar to him. In every portrait, there was the same dress, every time on a different young woman, all looking to be about sixteen. The belt on the dress was fastened with the same silver snake in every painting, and even though each of theirs blonde hair was adorned with a different kind of silver and emerald jewellery, they all had the same snake earrings and the same elegant silver collar around their neck, a tiny snake pendant on it. They all had the same platinum blonde hair he'd got used to seeing on Lucius and Draco, and all of their eyes held the same silvery light. They were the eldest daughters of Malfoy, all future -- or, rather, past -- Mistresses of the Manor, all portrayed as they were on their sixteenth birthday.

Slowly walking past the row of the paintings, Severus noticed more and more names he recognized on the carvings or small signs on the picture frames. Then came the final ones -- Melinda Malfoy, a gentle-looking, though elegant woman, and Luciane Malfoy, with a nasty smirk on her lips. Like none of the others, they were not asleep despite the fact that it was dim in the corridor and moonlight from the high window in the end of the corridor chased the shadows of night. Instead, both were watching him attentively, not saying a word, just watching.

"Why am I here?" asked the Seer at last. "Is this a vision, or just a dream?"

"Don't you know it by yourself, the One Who Sees?" asked Melinda calmly, sounding just as peaceful and gentle as Lucius's stories had made Severus think of her as. Luciane, however, smirked nastily.

"Of course he doesn't," the young witch said, her lips still curled into an evil smirk. "He's just about to lose his husband, after all, he can't tell whether even he's awake or asleep." With a nasty laugh, she added, "Well, this is not a memory, nor is it a strictly true dream. That's all I will tell you, Seer."

Then Severus heard a sudden sound behind himself, and saw a shadow being casted onto the wall in front of him. Spinning around, he immediately saw the suddenly appearing figure in front of the window.

It was Olivia. She was wearing the same dress as every Malfoy Lady in the portraits, the same silver collar adorning her neck. A ray of moonlight was caught in the snake pendant, making it look almost alive. The pale light also made her hair look a lighter, almost blonde colour instead of the usual honey tone, and it gave her grey eyes a silvery shade that was not any less enchanting than the unearthly glow in each Malfoy's eyes in the portraits.

"This is where I belong," Olivia whispered, sounding desperate. "Don't let them take me away from here..."

And then, she faded away, as well as the corridor and the portraits.

***

"So now I find you here," Dudley Dursley said nastily at the man in front of him. They were both standing on a little alley in London. The other man glared at him through his glasses, but didn't say a word. Nobody noticed their conversation. It was night already, and there were a very few people around. Sometimes you could see couple coming from movies, interested only in each other, or a group of friends exiting a restaurant, chattering happily. None of these by-passers, however, noticed the two men in the alley.

"What's wrong, freak?" the fat man taunted. "Did the cat got your tongue? Or are you just afraid of speaking in case you start to cry, little orphan-Pottie? I bet you're just a bastard, you never had real parents, since nobody would ever claim anybody like you their own son!"

"One insult more to him," said an extremely cold voice behind them, "and those words will be your last."

Dudley turned around pretty fast for someone with his weight. When he saw the people behind him, his eyev widened and he went pale on his face. "You... who are you..." he stammered, stumbling backwards.

"I'm Lucius Malfoy," a tall, blond man replied. He was wearing rather elegant clothes, nothing out of ordinary from a wealthy business man, although he certainly didn't look comfortable with his suit. He looked at Dudley, seemingly disgusted. "And, as I said before, you'd better stop insulting my son-in-law or you'll regret that."

"Definitely," a young man added. He had the same kind of pure blond hair as the tall man. He took a step forward, a furious expression on his face.

"Calm down, Draco," said a golden-haired young girl -- the only female person in the group. "Don't do anything yet. Let him explain his behaviour -- if he has an explanation." She didn't seem to think so.

"Right. If you can explain with exactly ten words why you were talking like that to him, you'll survive. Maybe," said the man who had called himself Malfoy - was it Luceus? Or Lucius? Dudley couldn't really recall the name.

He shivered under the glare of six pairs of furious eyes. He also felt Harry's glare locked at his back, and had to use all his self-control to stay on his place. He swallowed nervously and said, "I hate him - he's a freak - he doesn't have respect-"

"That was already ten words," the young man interrupted. "I don't think that's enough of explanation. At first, you can't possibly hate him as much as I hate you for what you and your family did to him. At second, he's not a freak. He's one of the most powerful wizards in the world -- he brought down the Dark Lord, possibly saving your sorry life with that as well. And if anyone here has a lack of respect, it's you." He turned towards the girl. "Does this satisfy your sense of justice?"

"I guess it does," the girl shrugged. "He had a chance to defend himself, and he just insulted Harry more. Do whatever you want to do to him."

"Perfect answer, little sister," the young man grinned. "Can I now beat him?" He looked very eager to hurt Dudley. The fat man trembled and tried to walk backwards, but bumped into Harry, who was still standing there.

"Go ahead, son," the tall man said. "If anyone else doesn't have anything against it?" He looked at the other people, who had all remained silent - one man with golden brown hair and two men with long, black hair. One of them had a hooked nose, and he looked especially bitter.

"I don't have anything against it," said the other blackhaired man -- the not-hooked-nosed one --, "but I'd like to join in the beating."

"I knew that," the hooked-nosed said, rolling his eyes. "Always ready for a little bit of violence, aren't we, Sirius? I think I'm going to continue the walk to the Floo station while these gentlemen are having their entertaiment. Is anyone coming with me?"

"I will," the brownhaired man replied. "I don't think I can keep myself from tearing the throat of that little prat if I have to stay here any longer looking at his overweighed face."

"I'm coming also," the girl said, smiling a bit. "Let's leave him here with Harry, an angry father-in-law, an outraged adopted father and a totally furious husband. I don't think it'll take long for them to finish with him."

"Hu-husband?" Dudley stammered. "You - you're his husband?" He stared at the young man in front of him.

"Oh, yes I am," the man replied. "And if you have a problem about homosexual people, just tell us - we all happen to be gays, so just give us another reason to beat you."

"Draco!" the girl snapped. "Just because he's rude, you don't have to be too!"

"Fine, Mum," the young man who'd been called Draco mumbled sarcastically.

"I'm not your Mum," she replied, "Narcissa is. I'm just your sister -- and that's enough of a reason to scold you," she then added with a grin. "And don't forget notice-me-not charms -- the last thing you need is problems with the Muggle police." She sighed like expecting them to do just that.

Dudley examined his situation. Everybody was now concentrated on the bickering between the two young siblings. He was surrounded and could not escape from the alley -- unless something caused some chaos, of course. Dudley Dursley would have never called himself a brave man, rather a cowardly one. And like most cowards, he did not hesitate about attacking somebody who had their back turned to him.

*

All Severus could see as a warning was a glint of light on some metal. Before he could cry out, the fat Muggle had already attacked with the knife he'd slipped to sight from his sleeve. Sirius started to turn around as he heard the movement, but the accident he'd had with his motorbike a few years back had slowed his reactions. Therefore, he could not avoid the knife that by pure dumb luck -- Dursley obviously wasn't used to dealing with a knife -- slashed a vein on his neck. Sirius clutched his throat, trying to stop the blood pouring out through his fingers as he fell slowly to his knees.

Olivia screamed, then shrieked, "Help! Somebody, get help!" The others just watched, shocked, as Severus hurried to his husband's aid. Even Dursley didn't seem to wholly understand just what he had done and what had happened. He just stared at the scene in front of him, unmoving.

It didn't take long from somebody to call Muggle police. Soon enough Severus stood there, Draco eyeing him worriedly, as they listened to Lucius explain what had happened. " My family and I were just getting home from a restaurant, when this man started to threaten my son-in-law. Well, my friends and I, of course, told him to forget it or we'd deal with him, but he attacked with a knife and -- well, my friend wasn't fast enough," he concluded quietly, glancing at Sirius, who now lay on the ground, not breathing.

Dursley was now safely guarded with a couple of officers, handcuffed and looking shocked. Olivia stood nearby, crying comfortlessly, and Remus and Harry were trying to soothe her. A police officer knelt down next to Sirius, then glanced up again. "I'm sorry," he said quietly. "There's nothing to be done."

And at that moment, Severus's world fell apart. They had come through everything -- two Wars, two motorbike accidents, years and years full of less-than-fortunate events. And now, after they'd survived all that, this would take Sirius's life? A knife on a dark alley, by the hand of a fat Muggle who didn't even know how to hold it correctly, and had probably even carried the knife just to make an impression on some of his stupid friends. An accident, dumb luck, and nothing more.

Severus fell down to his knees, unable to do anything else but just weep like the world had come to its end and he'd been the one to crush it in his hands.

***

Severus sighed deep as he crouched down in front of a simple marble gravestone. A trembling hand -- was it really his? -- reached out to trace the deep engraved letters on the gravestone:

"Sirius Black

20th of October, 1960 -- 27nd of March, 2004

May he rest in peace at last."

"Severus?" asked a quiet voice behind him. "Severus, we must leave already."

"I'm coming, Harry," he said, his words accompanied by a quiet sigh. Standing up again, he turned slowly to face the young Seeker, who was watching him, obvious concern written over his features.

"He died happy," said Harry quietly as they walked from the graveyeard, side by side. "You know that. Sirius didn't suffer, nor did his life end in agony. He just, well, fell asleep."

"I know that," replied Severus, sighing a bit. "And I'm happy about that... I'm happy that I could at least say a proper goodbye before he was gone. If he had died during his coma, it would have been even worse. Then again, maybe not -- at least I wouldn't have had the hope that raised its head again when he woke up, even if it was for such a short time. But at least the last thing he knew of life wasn't fear and pain."

"And that's more than he ever hoped," the Gryffindor said, "since he only hoped to die with you loving him. Let's drop that subject, anyway," he then added. "The Malfoys and Draco are waiting already. Oh, and Malcolm, of course. He and Olivia had something to tell us, they wouldn't tell what, but I can guess."

"Exactly." Severus managed a weak smile, even though it was now the exact day that his husband had died on three painful years ago. "In fact, I'm a bit surprised he didn't pop the question earlier. Though the way he did it was very sweet, rather uncharacteristical from him in fact, what with the roses and all."

Now, Harry looked startled. "You saw it?" he asked, astonished.

"No, I didn't see it," replied the Slytherin calmly. "Instead, I Saw it. Dreamed of it, like Olivia dreamed of your proposal to Draco all those years ago." He then drew a deep breath and straightened his back. "Let's go," he said quietly to his adopted son. "It's about the time we join the world once again."

***

"Mister Black," one of the mediwizards said. "Mister Black, we need your permission to do this."

Severus covered his eyes with his hand, unable to watch. "You have my permission," he said quietly, turning around.

He did hear the quiet mumbling when the mediwizards reversed the spells keeping his husband's body alive, though. He also heard Sirius's body struggling for breath, and losing that struggle.

Sirius's soul had left that body a long time ago; the icy cold phial of his beloved husband's Soul Potion hanging against his chest, teasing his skin, told that better than any mediwizard could. However, it was still hard, so very hard to let go of that one symbol of the love they'd shared.

As soon as he left the place of death and got back to his home, his quiet, empty home, Severus walked to his stocks. With steady hands he reached for a particular phial on one of the top shelves -- well out of sight of anybody who didn't know what to look for. Uncorking it, he soon downed the potion.

The deadly poison felt almost calming as it slid down his throat.

***

"Severus?" asked a quiet voice. The Potions Master raised his tired eyes from the comatose lying on the bed in front of him, seeing his best friend standing in the doorway. "Severus," Lucius said again, walking further into the room. "The trial will continue tomorrow -- we cannot push it any further. Are you able to continue, or will we find somebody to your place?"

"I'll do it," replied the younger man hoarsely. "I need something to take my thoughts off of -- something else for me to do but wait and hope and fear. I'm tired of this, Lucius. I'm tired of this all."

"And you look like it," replied his fellow Slytherin concernedly, walking to his side. "When was the last time you slept, Severus? And don't try to get smart with me, you know what I mean," he added sharply.

"I -- I don't know." Severus hang his head down. "It was -- I think it was before that day, the one when all hell got loose on us. Or was it even then? No, no, it wasn't. The last time I slept properly, with nothing pressing my mind, was more than a month ago, somewhere halfway through February. Yes, that's it -- before the memories of Brian."

"Merlin, Severus," sighed his best friend, sitting down on another chair next to him. "You're doing yourself no good with all this shit, my friend. You'll soon go crazy with the rate you're going."

Severus shook his head tiredly. "I'm already crazy, Lucius, there's not going anywhere with me anymore," he said quietly. "I'm a Seer of the highest level, yet I can't even tell a nightmare from a true vision. I know I had a vision last night, I could still smell it in the air when I woke up -- and yet I don't know what is true and what is just creation of my own, dark, tired mind."

"And you cannot even use the Dreamless Sleep Potion," finished Lucius. "Not with the amounts of Calming Potion you're undoubtedly using. Mixing some of those is fine, but too large amounts might prove fatal."

"Exactly." Severus nodded tiredly. "And I'll need even more of the Calming Potion once the trial starts again. Large amounts are certainly not healthy in long-term use, but I have to do it for now. I have to."

"He'll make it, Severus," said Lucius after a moment of silence. "You know him. He'd come back alive after a year of being dead if he could make you a bit happier by that."

"I know," Severus said, and sighed again. "But there are things even he cannot win." With a much quieter voice, he added, "Even he cannot escape the death forever."

Lucius didn't say anything. Instead, he just placed his hand on Severus's shoulder, not saying a word.

*

Yet another night. Yet another bunch of nightmares. Severus tossed and turned in his bed, unable to find any rest in the middle of the horrifying images flooding his mind. It'd been like this for two weeks already, ever since Sirius's accident he'd suffered every night. Not only was he having nightmares, but the Calming Potion messed his Seer's instincts even more, making him totally unable to tell a true vision from a dream with not even a friction of truth in it.

***

A door opened, revealing Remus, who lay on the floor, the bloody wounds on his wrists just barely stopped bleeding. A knife had fallen from his hand. Somebody walked in, and, seeing the werewolf, cried out in agony. Severus watched as Lucius sank to his knees next to his beloved, tears breaking free of the blond's silver eyes. He saw as the other Potions Master searched franticly for a pulse.

Then, Lucius turned towards him, and Severus realized that he was in this vision as well. "He's dead," Lucius said hoarsely. "He is dead, Remus is dead, and it's my fault because I didn't protect him better..."

And then, Severus heard a cold, unfeeling voice he recognized all too well as Weasley's. "I shall cut the Malfoy line."

The scene changed. Now, Severus watched a coffin being lowered into a deep, dark grave. He knew immediately what was inside it -- Remus's body. There wasn't a single sound as he and the other people in the funeral watched a tall, elegant form in a completely black robe walk to the side of the grave, leaning heavily onto his snake-headed cane. For a moment, he just looked down there.

Then, after whispering some words none of them could hear, Lucius turned around abruptly and hurried away. Severus made a move to go after him, but Sirius placed a calming hand on his arm.

"Let him go," the Animagus advised gently as Severus turned to look at him. "He needs to be alone now."

"Then he won't see the dawn tomorrow," snapped Severus. Then he continued on his way after his best friend, hoping to reach Lucius before the blonde could do anything that couldn't be fixed.

He didn't manage, though. Just on the other side of the hill, he found the black form curled onto the white snow. A tiny phial had fallen from Lucius's hand, one which Severus's sharp mind recognized immediately even in this chaos. A deadly poison, and an uncurable one. Took effect in mere seconds.

Somebody laughed behind him. As he turned around, one slightly trembling hand still reached out towards his friend, he saw the all-too-familiar redhaired form in front of himself.

"I shall cut the Malfoy line," the cruel voice again echoed through his mind. As he tried to attack Weasley, however, the man vanished into thin air. And then, the scene changed again.

Draco was flying high in the air, enjoying the feel of cool, wild air in his hair. Severus was standing in the ground, looking up to Draco, who was seemingly wholly involved into a game of catch-the-Snitch with Harry. The game was pretty equal, whether it was for true skills or Harry giving in, Severus did not know.

He did know, however, that something was wrong when Draco's broomstick suddenly started to jump around like somebody had jinxed it. Then the broomstick flew right downwards with an incredible speed, and even though Harry tried to catch his lover, he was too late. The young blond was now dropped from his trusted broom, falling hard to the ground. Olivia screamed on his side.

And when Severus hurried to Draco's side, he noticed that the young man's neck had been snapped by the fall down to the cold, unwelcoming earth.

"I shall cut the Malfoy line," Severus heard the terrifying voice again. This time, he was prepared for the switch of the scene that appeared in front of him.

And Olivia stood in front of him. No, she did not stand; she was crouching, like trying to avoid some danger threatening her from somewhere above. And then an arm reached out, an arm belonging to a man in a long, black robe, and grasped her hand. Olivia tried to scream, but not a sound ever got out. A jet of green light had flown from the man's wand, colliding with her chest. As the man's hand released its grasp, the girl fell down to the ground, her face a mask of unbidden horror, her eyes wide with fear, the light of life gone.

The last thing he knew before the picture faded again was the familiar, cold voice. "I shall cut the Malfoy line."

***

It was dark and quiet, but then again, so was it always. Severus's steps were silent as he swept through the dim halls, and he saw no point in having the lights on when there was nobody around but himself. Through the lonely years he had become even more the night owl he'd always been to a point. Nowadays he practically lived at night, needing no more than the fires under his dear cauldrons to light his work. At times he would even spend hours in complete darkness, his fingers being the only quide he needed. Days he spent either locked up in his laboratory, like the nights, or, occasionally, sleeping. A humourless smirk curled his lips as he thought of the old rumours of him being a vampire. Well, those rumours certainly wouldn't have died if the students had known how he lived nowadays.

But nobody knew. Well, nobody but his family and friends, anyway. Of course they were worried; he could see it in their eyes and expressions whenever he met them. His sisters were always nagging at him, telling him that he should change this depressed lifestyle, and Lucius was no better. Harry and Draco never said anything, but they insisted on showing up on random visits in the middle of the day, and always looked disappointed if they caught his sleeping. (Severus, of course, tried to avoid this by sleeping even less, so in fact they were just making the problem they were trying to solve even worse.) And Remus never said anything, never did anything, since Remus knew he wouldn't have wanted that.

Then there was Olivia. Little Olivia, even though she wasn't so little anymore -- she was twenty-two years old now, a brilliant Potions Mistress, and happily married to her dear Malcolm. Olivia Snape, the Young Mistress of the Snape Manor -- Draco was quite satisfied with the Potter Place he and Harry shared, but as Malcolm was the last heir of Snape, they'd decided that the Malfoy Manor would go to Siriel, the younger one of Remus and Lucius's adopted children. So, aside from Lilian, Olivia and Malcolm were nowadays what people meant when they talked about the Snapes.

And soon, there would be two Snapes more -- of course Olivia hadn't admitted anything, what with all the bad experiences about pregnancies in the family, but Severus had Seen that she would give birth to healthy twin boys in July. One of them would be named Sirius.

The thought stung, but not as badly as it had the first time he had Seen this. His Sirius was dead, but he would be remembered. And, even though it seemed to him like the time had stopped flowing, outside his laboratory life was going on. He also knew that he shold have moved on, too. But it was too hard.

Olivia and Malcolm, thankfully, understood that. Whenever they came for a visit, it was late, and the young couple always stayed past midnight, until Malcolm dragged Olivia home to sleep, obviously concerned about her and the secret babies' health. And after they left, Severus would sit motionlessly for a long time, staring quietly into the fireplace, thinking of everything he could have once had but now would never receive. And only then, he would cry.

Oh, he wasn't envious of the young couple's happiness. He wasn't envious when he saw them happy, he didn't envy the Malfoys when he saw Lucius and Remus spoiling the little five-year-old Siriel rotten, happy smiles on their faces. "Snapes never envy," had his father told him on one of those rare moments he'd actually tried to raise him with words rather than a fist, "Snapes never envy, and you are a Snape. Don't forget that." And Severus hadn't forgotten, for forgotting meant getting beaten. No, he wasn't envious. He only wished he could have had the same he saw his friends and family having.

Oh, he wasn't going to die, not yet. That much, if nothing else, he owed to his husband for all their years together. His work wasn't just mindless labour; it had a purpose. That purpose was to help Remus, the one person Sirius had ever loved as much as he had loved Severus, or Harry. They'd all held equal parts of the Animagus's heart, even though in very different ways each. And for Sirius's love for the werewolf, if not for his own friendship with the man, Severus had to help Remus.

The Wolfsbane Potion was far from perfect. And Severus would not be satisfied with his work until he managed to make the transformation completely painless to those suffering, if not cure the curse itself. That was why he spent all his waking time in the laboratory, not even remembering to eat at times. Because he had to help, and because he had made a promise to himself.

A promise that he would not join Sirius in the land beyond even a Seer's dreams before his work was done. Only then he could leave.

Only then he could rest in peace.

***

Severus watched in quiet horror as a woman was thrown violently to the ground. Her golden brown hair made him for a moment think that this was Olivia he was seeing violated, but the next moment he realized that it was Maria Magpie, Olivia's mother. However, the man crouching above her was truly a Death Eater, like were the numerous black-clad forms all around, torturing men and women -- undoubtedly Squibs or Muggleborns -- in all ways imaginable.

Just as the Death Eater opened his outer robe and knelt down to finish what he'd just started with the screaming and struggling woman, Severus saw something that almost stopped his heart.

To be exact, a long strand of platinum blond hair that had just fallen to his sight from the side of the white Death Eater mask. It was hair he recognized all too well -- hadn't he seen it so many times, in so many occasions, and during so many years? And moreover, didn't he very well know the eyes that he could see through the mask -- those cool, emotionless silver eyes?

***

Severus and Lucius glanced at each other before slowly pushing the door open. Then, as if on cue, they both stepped inside at exactly the same moment.

What they saw inside made them both drop their wands -- Severus had his own rarely enough in his hand, while Lucius's was enclosed into his cane, like it always was. The blond man then, uncaring about the dropped cane or the pain this action caused to him, ran to the unmoving form that lay on the floor. With trembling hands, he searched for a pulse on his husband's pale neck.

Then he raised his eyes to Severus, and the silvery pools were full of tears.

"I can't do anything," whispered Lucius. "I cannot do anything for him... He's gone." And then Lucius Malfoy, who had survived two Wars, years of unnerving spying, even Azkaban, broke down completely. He wept and wept, and Severus just simply held him, unable to give any comfort as he knew it was impossible. Nothing he could say would ease the other man's grief.

He did know it, after all. Or hadn't they both lost a husband to the death now?

***

And yet again, Severus woke up, noticing the scent of a true vision still heavy in the air.

*

"Oh, there you are, Mister Black!" a mediwitch exclaimed as he walked to the ward where his husband was lying in coma. "We were just trying to contact you! We have some news regarding your husband!"

"What? What's happened?" asked Severus hurriedly. If there had been a change to worse...

However, to his great relief, it wasn't that. "He's awake!" the mediwitch said excitedly. "Some time ago he just sat up and started to ask for you! We've never had such a sudden and fast recovery, it's --"

The rest of her words never reached Severus's ears as the Potions Master hurried towards his husband's hospital room. Sirius was awake. His husband was awake and well.

Suddenly, he couldn't believe that anything could go badly. Not even the trial.

"Sirius!" he exclaimed as soon as he got into the room he knew all too well from these days of agony. "Thank Merlin, Sirius, you are awake at last! I thought you would never woke up..."

"Well, I couldn't disappoint you like that, now could I?" replied the Animagus who lay on the bed. He seemed a bit tired, but perfectly fine other than that. Even the bandages that still covered his skin here and there couldn't take away Severus's relieved delight.

"If that damned motorbike hadn't exploded on its own, I would have blown it up," muttered Severus while embracing his husband tightly. "This is the second accident you've had with it! And if you even imagine that you will get another one of those ridiculous bikes, then you are sorely mistaken! I will not tolerate --"

"Severus," Sirius interrupted, placing a finger onto his lips to stop his tirade. "Listen to me. You have to hear one thing." As the Potions Master shut up, looking at him questioningly, the Gryffindor continued, "It was not an accident. Somebody caused it -- and I know who it was."

Severus listened as Sirius told his story. And the more he listened, the more his onyx eyes hardened. When he'd heard everything, anybody who'd ever done anything bad to him would have cowered back in stunning fear. He had almost lost his husband -- and for what?

Truly, the one who'd attempted the murder would sorely regret it.

*

That night, Severus slept properly for the first time in Merlin knew how long. He did not fear for his husband anymore, and he now knew he had a weapon to use against his opponent. However, even though his rest was certainly peaceful, one of his old dreams still haunted him, making him frown in his sleep and shiver despite the warmth that was enveloping here.

And when he woke up the next morning, the scent of true Seeing was hanging strongly in the air.

*

Severus pushed open a door. It felt like it had been forever since he'd last entered this place. The members of the Potions Master's Council all had their own personal offices in both the Ministry and Guild Headquarters, but he rarely came to his Ministry one. It had been -- what? Two years, or three already? -- no, "only" two years since he'd last been there. Now, however, he had returned, for a very specific reason.

So, instead of continuing to his own office, he stopped in front of the door leading to Lucius's one. Quietly murmuring the password, he pushed the door open and stepped into the office.

Even though Lucius certainly hadn't used his own office room even as "recently" as Severus, the house-elves had kept the office clean. There were a few photos on the desk -- one of Narcissa with her husband, one of Draco when he was only a four-year-old, adorable little child, one of Severus and Sirius, and one of Remus and Lucius himself. In the picture of the two Malfoys Severus could also see Philip and Joyce waving at him, and he sighed. Family and friends, all Lucius's loved ones. It was just what you would expect to find on a man's desk in his office, and Lucius Malfoy was hardly an exception of this rule.

Those pictures, however, were not what Severus was looking for. Instead, he went to the wall next to the desk. A child's drawing had been fastened onto the wall -- Philip's drawing. And next to the picture, the dark-haired man saw something else hanging on a little hook. It was a golden pendant, one which Lucius had got on his forty-fifth birthday. It'd been his birthday just a couple of days after the day of misfortune, Severus now realized, and none of them had even remembered it. Most probably not even Lucius himself.

Well, that was not what he needed to think about now. Instead, he reached for the pendant. It had been equipped with strong antithievery charms, but it was not a bother to him -- why ever would Lucius have wanted to keep Severus away from his property? And truly, the charms didn't harm him, even though he did notice the trickle of magic going through his hand. With skilled fingers, he opened the lid of the pendant.

There, he found what he'd been looking for. A small wizarding picture of Remus, Lucius, and little Joyce and Philip adorned one half of the inside of the pendant. The other half, the gold covered with soft, green velvet, held four little locks of hair. One was golden brown, two were blond, and one was dark, reddish brown. The golden brown and one of the blond ones -- Remus's and Lucius's -- were fastened onto the pendant with tiny emerald pins, while Joyce's and Philip's locks were held with tiny sapphires. With extreme care, Severus took only a couple of strands from the lock of Lucius's hair. He would not need more. This was all he needed to get what he wanted. And he wanted, no, he had to know. Just simply know. And he could not ask Lucius for the hairs, as he could not give empty hope to his friend.

Dropping the few hairs into a tiny phial, one which he closed tightly, he then put the pendant back to its place, made sure that everything was where it was supposed to be, and left the room. He did not leave the Ministry building, however, before making yet another stop in the Potions Master's Guild's area. To be exact, he went to the laboratory, leaving there this tiny phial, and another one he'd filled before, and of course his instructions. The Potions Mistress he gave them to looked surprised and a bit curious about her new assignment, but promised to do as he wished.

She did know, after all, that when the Lead Potions Master gave an order, he was to be obeyed.

*

It was a wholly different Severus Snape who entered the courtroom the next day. The other people present, who during the last week and a half had got used to dealing with a depressed, broken man, noticed this change immediately. Some of them welcomed this, some wondered, and some were just plain annoyed.

Now, Severus was far from depressed. His steps were fast, almost hurried, as he went to his seat. The sharp onyx eyes seemed to be watching everybody at the same time, seemingly sharp enough to look into everyone's heart and soul and see all the secrets hidden there. Not a few avoided his gaze. Ronald Weasley was no better than the others.

That day, Weasley had got yet another witness to prove that the Malfoys were involved with Dark Arts and were thus unsuitable to take care of a child. The witness was the very same witch who'd sold Olivia her wand, and to whom the girl as well as Severus himself had immediately taken a disliking.

"Yes, I do remember them," the witch said to Weasley's questions. "I have a sense for everything Dark, and this group was just reeking of it. It took all of my strength not to call Aurors at the same moment."

"You say you can sense Dark," Severus said smoothly, eyeing the woman coolly. Not a wonder he hadn't liked her. "Could it be possible that the Dark Marks on the two spies on the group, and especially Remus Malfoy's Lycanthropy could have driven your instincts wild without any true Dark Arts being involved?"

The woman even had the guts to just shrug. "For anything I know, all Dark creatures are involved with the Dark Arts, as well as Death Eaters. So, what's the difference?"

The Potions Master snorted, then looked at the judge. "Your honour," he said, "I claim this so-called proof clearly unsufficient, and I demand ending this question, as the witness hardly can give us any more insight to the topic." To his great satisfaction, the judge agreed to that.

Weasley, of course, tried to argue. However, he couldn't come up with anything that Severus didn't shoot down immediately. At one point, he dared to glance towards the Malfoys. For the first time ever since the day Sirius had gotten into the accident, he saw some hope on their faces. Satisfied with this, he concentrated on the trial yet again.

At one point, a Ministry official entered the courtroom. Nobody paid any attention to him; half of the room was filled with the black-robed people. Many noticed him, however, as he came to Severus's side, giving the man some parchments and whispering furiously. This was so much like the scene just before he'd won the trial against the Magpies that the Malfoys and Harry couldn't help but lean forward, eagerly waiting to hear what it was all about.

And then, just like they had expected, Severus stood up. "Your honour, may I speak?" he asked.

The judge nodded her head -- again so similarly to the previous trial. "Go ahead, Mr. Black."

Severus glanced down at the document he'd just been presented, rereading them just to be sure. As he noticed, he had indeed read right the first time. Still, he checked it for the one last time before clearing his throat, well aware of the numerous stares locked on him.

"I demand ending this trial," he said, just like he'd said only a few weeks ago. Yet again, everyone's eyes were on him, like wondering what he'd come up with this time. "I claim simple and clear victory in the case to Mr. and Mr. Malfoy."

"And upon what you claim this victory?" the judge asked. She, too, looked just as curious as everybody else. More burning than anyone's eyes, however, he felt the gazes of Remus, Lucius, and Olivia aimed at his back. For them, if not for anything else, he had to win this trial.

"I claim it upon a simple juridical case," Severus said, suddenly feeling calmer than ever since winning the trial against the Magpies. "I just got the evidence of it."

"And what, pray tell, is that evidence?" Weasley cut in, looking just as disbelieving as half of their audience.

"I have the evidence," Severus said slowly, "I have the evidence that Olivia Malfoy is indeed Lucius Malfoy's biological child."

The whole courtroom fell silent.