Snape the Younger

Denied

Hogwarts was beautiful in early July, the sun gilding the grey stone walls and adding diamonds to the multitude of mullioned windows. The lake was a calm mirror reflecting the serene majesty of the old castle. Tom Riddle stood at the anti-apparition line and stared down wistfully at the place he had once called home. Life had been so much easier then, so much simpler. His early life had been a struggle to survive, to get enough to eat and a bed to sleep in. There were other children who had been abandoned just like him, left to struggle and find their own way to the truth, a whole orphanage full!

But Tom Riddle had an advantage! He had been a wizard, one of the chosen few, a new and powerful being who would conquer the world effortlessly. He vividly remembered the day the tall, regal old man had come and spoken so gently to him, had seen through all his conniving and facade but had still brought him out to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry despite having caught on to his game. Of course, once the walls of Hogwarts enfolded him he found out he was not unique, not at all.

He had thrived in the new environment then gone on to use his native cunning and wit to track down some of his real family - his mother's family - and what he had found had astounded him, shocked, surprised and infuriated him. His mother had come from a very respectable family brought low by circumstances but still an ancient and honourable line. His father's breeding had been very good by Muggle standards, such as they were, but his behaviour had betrayed any sense of honour the Muggles might have aspired to. He was a dog! Less than a human being, an arrant coward! And he had paid the price for his cowardice and his betrayal of a good woman, so had the rest of his misbegotten line.

His uncle and grandfather proved to be more liabilities than assets but they had contributed to his growing sense of who he really was. Parseltongue, what a wonderful gift, inherited from the founder of the family and passed from generation to generation along with the Peverell ring and the locket which had been so basely stolen from his mother in her time of need. However, he had regained the locket and put it to very good use but he needed more, a token from each of the Hogwarts founders to complete his great work.

Only one man stood in his way, the same man who had first brought him into the wonderful world of magic, who had begun his education then turned his back, trying to thwart his thirst for knowledge, stem his intelligence, turn him away from his quest and in the final instant, refused to allow him to return to the first place he had felt was home. Oh, Dumbledore had prated his age, citing it as too young and inexperienced for a teaching position but Tom knew he had more to offer to every child in the wizarding world than any other wizard since the great Founders had walked the earth. And still Albus Dumbledore had stopped him; trying to turn him from the correct path to greatness, make him less than he was destined to be, make him mortal and vulnerable and human!

The second time he had gone to Hogwarts to offer his services as a teacher, again Dumbledore had refused to take what was offered, refused to allow him to teach Defence Against the Dark Arts and bring greatness to the British Isles. Even Durmstrang was sensible enough to see the value of teaching some Dark Arts as well as Defence Against but not Hogwarts, oh no! That stubborn, outmoded old man stood squarely in the path of progress and refused to move.

Furious, Tom had made some ill-advised threats and left in a flurry to try other means to satisfy his growing desire for immortality and yet he knew, at the bottom of his being, that he needed to find the last rare object of the founders. Oh, it wasn't anything as overt as the bloody Sword of Gryffindor which everyone and his dog knew was hung in the Headmaster's office like some sort of battle trophy. Just why a powerful wizard had needed a sword was beyond Tom's comprehension. No, this was so obscure that very few people even realised it still existed.

In a text by the venerated Horden Monisett, reputed to be a close friend of Godric Gryffindor, it mentioned the founder himself, saying he would put aside his favourite cloak pin in his favourite safe place for his grandson to find. The text went on to say that the pin was never found, the grandson was killed only a short time after Gryffindor's death and never had a chance to retrieve his grandfather's gift. By a dint of very intense research, Tom was very sure that the cloak pin and anything else the founder had thought worthy was still hidden in that safe place which could only be within the walls of Hogwarts. Only for the lure of that treasure would Tom have ever contemplated returning to the scene of his twice given humiliation.

His rambling thoughts had shortened the journey and his feet had brought him safely to the front doors of the old castle but they refused to yield to his hand when he pressed on the ancient wooden panels. Surprised, he pushed with all his might, then cast alohomora then other unlocking spells of greater and greater power but the doors refused to budge. Angrily, Tom raised a fist and knocked hard but still there was no response. Pounding and kicking did no good; beating on the ancient wood with his wand turned into a hammer brought no response. Casting sonorous and bellowing for attention was equally without response until Tom was red in the face and sweating but no closer to gaining entrance to Hogwarts than he had been when he first arrived at the wooden barrier.

Gasping and swearing, he was about to knock again when the brass-bound door slowly creaked open and a familiar face appeared in the gloom. Dumbledore looked surprised to see him standing there but smiled a welcome and came out into the sunshine to offer his hand.

"Tom, I was wondering where you were," Albus greeted with welcoming affability.

"I knocked but no one appeared to hear me," Tom managed to reply civilly between clenched teeth.

"My dear boy, you should have just come in, you do know the way to my office, don't you?"

Reining his anger in, Tom nodded curtly and pulled his robe straight before taking a step to follow the Headmaster.

As his foot approached the threshold it hit a solid wall of force and he stumbled ignominiously, unable to cross into the Great Hall. The very stones of the castle were denying him entrance! Growling, he tried again but again he was repulsed and turned his eyes to glare at the Headmaster who was standing a few feet inside the entry watching him with a sad and pitying look. "What have you done, Old Man?" Tom demanded furiously, hand clutching convulsively on his wand but he did not draw it yet.

Albus Dumbledore shook his head slowly and sadly. "I fear, Tom, you are not welcome within the halls of Hogwarts anymore. The castle has refused you entry although I have asked it to allow you to come in. Hogwarts has a mind and a will of its own, it reads the intent of your heart and refuses you entrance. You mean the castle harm, Tom, and it knows that."

"I do not mean to harm the bloody castle at all," Tom protested but knew he was lying even as the words left his mouth. If he had his way, he would pull down the stones and blast the foundations to sand and reduce the grounds to a salted wasteland that no one would ever inhabit for a thousand year.

As the thoughts flitted through his mind the great door groaned and suddenly swung shut, slamming in his face. The flagstones of the courtyard bucked and jumped tossing him down the stairs and rolling him out of the forecourt onto the path that lead up from the gate. A great wind swept down, tearing and tumbling at him, forcing him to stumble to his feet and all but run to keep from sprawling on his face until he was unceremoniously ejected from the gates which slammed shut with a rusty scream of denial. Hogwarts had cleansed itself of his malice and made an even bitterer enemy of the man who would be Lord of Britain.

Fear and fury warred for a moment, then Lord Voldemort lost all expression, drawing down his politician's mask to hide his intent. So Hogwarts would not yield to his coming, would it not? Then it would be destroyed and all who took shelter within its walls would be left in torment for as long as there was anyone who remembered the name. The new enmity was bright and sharp as Lord Voldemort apparated away, new and bigger plans and schemes already moving through his fertile mind. He had never experienced wards like those that protected Hogwarts but he would study them and find a way to blast them out of existence.

There was the new order of magic Severus had showed him, full of interesting and intricate ways to circumvent the conventional learning of England. He would use that new knowledge to its fullest advantage, and he would conquer and destroy anyone or anything that stood in his way! The Lord's schemes were already growing and would soon bear the black fruit of malice and hatred that would be turned on the school as soon as the time was right.

~~*~~

Lily apparated home her pockets full of Christmas shopping. Harry was sound asleep in the sling on her chest, worn out by his visit to Santa Claus in the Muggle shopping centre. She had decided to have his Santa photo taken to send to her mother and her sister, especially when she received a Santa photo from Petunia showing her son Dudley, who was a month older than Harry, sitting on the red clad Santa's knee. He did resemble a cross between a bilious niffler and a gargoyle, Lily had to own, remembering a comment James had made on seeing the likeness. Not like Harry who was a small, wiry child with his father's build and shock of black hair. Besides, Harry was the most beautiful baby in the world, Lily smiled, and she had been ably seconded and carried by Sirius and Remus. Peter had tried to abstain but that was more just to tease Sirius into a fine mood, making him tickle Peter until the plump blond had gone into hiccoughs.

Honestly, sometimes she thought those three would complete the job of spoiling Harry totally that James had started on the night Harry had been born. Three more devoted and doting uncles there never were! Mind you, if Sirius suggested one more time that Harry would really benefit from a ride on that blasted contraption he called a motorbike, she would hex him into next week! Smiling fondly, she pulled a tiny package out of her pocket and enlarged it, opening the box and staring down at the cycle boots she had ordered for Sirius. They were charmed to have the softest soles that were non-slip and were lined with lambs wool for warmth. There were enough charms on the leather to make it water, snow, mud and fire-proof so even if he managed to set his bike on fire on a glacier in the middle of a rain storm, his boots would protect him from all of it! He would love them!

For Remus she had bought robes, boring but oh so necessary. It was true that Remus worked for the Department of Magical Creatures on and off but the idiot had a habit of buying books with his hard earned cash rather than warm clothes. He always looked like a ragbag but he was too proud to accept anything but the odd birthday and Christmas gift so James and Lily made the most of it, as did Sirius. She had bought Remus a full set of winter wool robes with a scarf, gloves and a weatherproof cloak to go over the top. At least he wouldn't freeze to death this winter.

For Peter she had found a perfectly splendid cookbook with enough recipes that he could cook a new dish every day for a year and never come to the end. Peter loved to eat and he was shaping up to be a fantastic cook, studying both Muggle and wizarding techniques. He often came into her kitchen and tried out the latest recipe he had found or had been given. He had to stay away from his mother's kitchen where he was all but banned. Lily had asked him if he was going to become a chef when they had been in seventh year but he had shaken his head sadly. His father wanted him to be a clerk at his law firm so that was what Peter was destined for. Cooking was for sissies and girls!

For their other friends she had spent a pleasant afternoon picking out gifts each would appreciate. For Frank and Alice and Neville there was a sun-catcher that would guarantee rainbows all through their home in all weather. For her sister and her husband there was a very nice Carnival glass vase, very Muggle, very expensive and very collectible. For Dudley there was a stuffed bear, very conventional and safe from 'freakdom'.

For James and Harry there were so many gifts she knew she had gone overboard but she had had such fun finding the perfect things she didn't care. She had found matching Father and son Quidditch robes, a toy broom and a Nimbus 1500, dress robes and baby dress robes for each of them. There were books and balls and sweets and knick-knacks enough to give them both hours of unwrapping pleasure.

There was one gift that was small and not very expensive but it was a present she had agonised long and hard over before buying. She never knew if her gifts would be accepted until her owl returned, usually with some small gift in return. Although one day she expected the gift would come back unopened and unaccepted. This year she had found a book, a Muggle thing printed and bound in miniature format, a book of quotes from famous Muggles, some of which were hilarious. She never signed the gift tag or even put a name on the wrapping but simply instructed the owl to deliver it to Severus Snape, wherever he might be. She always received something in return, a small, framed sketch, an unusual length of material, a perfume or lotion in a decorative bottle.

She was about to make tea when James came in and dropped a kiss on her cheek in passing on his way to the bathroom. As he was completely covered in mud, Lily accioed the liniment and made sure the tea was laced with brandy. When James returned from the bathroom, free of mud, he lay down on the sofa and she automatically began to charm the bruises that were already turning a deep, angry purple.

"What happened?" she asked as some of the tension faded from his tight shoulder muscles.

"That complete and utter prat Thorlinson had us dodging bludgers all afternoon, not two or even four but twelve of the blasted things flying about as if they were possessed. We were doing okay too until Pertwee and Morganson both avoided the same bludger and Pertwee crashed into me. It's a good thing we were only twenty feet up or it would have been a serious smash up, I can tell you. As it is, my broom is completely fragged."

"Oh honestly, James, not again? That's the third one in the last six months!" Lily protested in exasperation. "It's a good thing your parents left you well off or you would be in trouble."

"Its funny you should say that, Lily-girl," James said thoughtfully, rolling over and catching her as she nearly fell off the sofa. "As we were getting up, Pertwee said something very odd. He apologised of course then asked if I had enough money to replace my broom. After all, he said, having a new baby and a new wife tended to be draining on a man's income and if I needed a little cash advance he knew some people who could set me up for life at very reasonable rates."

"Sounds like he is a finance broker," Lily chuckled then sighed when James looked blank. "Never mind."

"No, no, he wasn't trying to break anything, he was trying to sell me on going to a meeting with him to be introduced to some very well-connected Purebloods who would be delighted to give an up and coming Quidditch star like myself all the financial help I might desire, for a price."

"Good God, I didn't think the wizarding world had graduated to the Mafia yet or... it wasn't to do with Lord Voldemort, was it?" Lily asked, glancing over her shoulder almost reflexively.

"Actually, I think it was. I told him to go to stuff himself but I wonder if I shouldn't tell the Order but it seems so vague and trivial."

"Humm, and maybe You-Know-Who only wants a personal stake in his own Quidditch team so he can kick off his shoes and put his feet up to watch the latest match on the telly on Sunday afternoon," Lily replied sarcastically, making James laugh.

"Could be, you never know," he kissed her cheerfully. "So, what's a telly?" he added wickedly.

~~*~~

"So you will not look after your grandson tonight?" Frank asked in a dangerously quiet voice.

Emily Longbottom crossed her arms defensively. "Look, Frank, much as I love the little tyke, I do not approve of Alice going back to work when he is still so young. I didn't work when you were a baby; I stayed home and looked after you like a mother should! It's not as if you need the money, I told you I would provide for you any time you asked."

Frank glared as the old argument flared again. "I will not become your pensioner, Mother! Alice and I are well able to support ourselves even if Alice did not go back to work but we are a team and this is a social engagement not a surveillance detail. Would it kill you to unbend for a few hours, Mother?"

"I always told you I start as I mean to go on and I do not mean to baby-sit every time it is not convenient for Alice to remember she is a mother and has a family to look after, so no, the rule stays."

"Very well. Goodbye, Mother." Frank apparated before Emily could say another word.

The old woman bit her lip and sighed. Sometimes forcing the younger generation to behave in a manner befitting their breeding was so difficult. Alice was a good sort of a girl but definitely not of the same class of people as the Longbottoms, and she had refused to listen when Emily tried to hint her into the proper way of doing things so Emily would just have to out-stubborn the girl, that was all there was to it.

"Looks like we take Neville with us tonight," Frank said shortly as he apparated into the living room. "Damn her anyway, she is a stubborn old bat, and no mistake! She's still living in the 1880's instead of the 1980's. You know how she carries on, 'Longbottoms have been on this land since before Merlin and they will still be here after the end of time. We have a history and a tradition to uphold and you should do as you are told."

Alice laughed ruefully having received the talk and the lecture at least three times in her life, once when she became engaged to Frank, once when she married Frank and once when she gave birth to Neville. She hadn't told Frank about the other lecture she had received, the one outlining her duties as a Longbottom bride and her responsibilities as the mother of the new generation. Still, she knew Emily Longbottom did not approve of her, thought she was a social climber and had married far above herself but she and Frank were happy as long as they didn't go too close to his ancestral home too often.

"Lily is taking Harry too, said her usual babysitters were all tied up tonight what with moon and Peter has a cooking class so there will be the two babies. I think Neville is teething so we may not be there too long anyway," she added meditatively.

Frank nodded and gave her a hug in passing. "Not to worry, it's just Uncle Algie's daughter's theatre group, it's probably going to be horrible."

~~*~~

The play was truly horrific, poor acting, missed cues and the most appallingly off-key singing Severus had ever heard. He had tried a muffling charm but somehow the lead soprano had managed to find a note that pierced even that charm's ability to blunt sound. Gritting his teeth, he pulled his personal invisibility shield around himself and slipped out of the hall, his passage unmarked.

In the corridor, he glanced both ways then set off to explore the house turned theatre, checking exits and rest rooms, making a note of the various useful hiding places. The Dark Lord wanted his Death Eaters to either convert or kill most of the people in attendance this evening, why he wasn't sure but the Lord had commanded and so the loyal followers performed. He bumped into Macnair who was also checking out the lower floor, exchanged a quick word and continued upstairs to see if there were any surprises up there.

The surprise was more of a shock when he reached the nursery and found not just the baby Goyle but two others too. One of the strangers was sound asleep, bum in the air; the other was squirming and whimpering on the verge of waking up. Shaking his head, Severus approached the cot on silent feet and stared down at the child even as the baby awoke and opened big brown eyes to stare up at him curiously. Even more surprising, the baby grinned showing two very white bottom teeth and some very red gums at the top before his face began to crumple.

"Hush," Severus told him gently which stopped the little face crumpling but the baby began to chew furiously on his fist, whimpering a little. "Does your mouth hurt? My Godson Draco is cutting teeth, a rather painful process, I gather. Show me your mouth, little man." Gathering the baby up, Severus attempted to peer into his mouth which caused him to laugh and give a good clear view of swollen gums. Grumbling, Severus dug out the ointment he had made for Draco's gums and managed to smear a little onto the child's mouth before the baby bit down on his finger. "Bloody hell, that was the one Draco bit the other day too. Vicious little monsters, aren't you?" he complained, patting the child's back and sucking his own abused finger. "Humm, doesn't taste too bad either," he commented on his own potion.

"Are you clucking over a brat?" a voice asked in amusement and Severus whipped around, his wand out in an instant.

Lily Potter leaned on the door frame watching the very tall man interact with the very small child, a smile softening her mouth and adding a soft light to her eyes. She grinned mischievously when he stiffened and snarled at her but his arms did not tighten on the child and young Master Longbottom continued to goo and chortle at his very strange holder.

"What the hell are you doing here?" Snape demanded in hushed, horrified tones then stared at the second strange child who was still sound asleep. "Oh, Merlin, is that your brat? Damn it all, Lily, you have to get out of here as soon as possible and take both the babies with you."

"Why?" Lily asked, coming forward to check on her son before cocking her head inquiringly.

"Do I have to spell it out for you , you stupid bint," he demanded, thrusting the baby into her arms then picking up young master Potter and all but tossing him into her other arm. "You won't be able to apparate as the wards have already gone up but if you leave in the next five minutes you should be able to slip away. Here, pinch the child and make him cry, it will give you a perfectly legitimate excuse for leaving." Suiting action to words, Severus pinched Longbottom's leg and made him yelp and burst into tears.

"Damn it, Severus, now he will never shut up."

"Good, go. Lily, just go! Please," Severus all but pushed her down the stairs in his haste to bundle her out the door.

"I have to get the Longbottoms and James, Severus, I can't just leave," she snapped, putting her head around the ballroom door, the wails from both babies causing heads to turn and the actors on the stage to glare at the interruption.

Fortunately, both the Longbottoms and James were quick to catch the cue and leave their seats to join her at the door. Alice reached for Neville while James slung an arm around Lily's shoulders, surprised to feel her trembling.

"What is it?" he asked in worried tones.

"We have to go, now," Lily insisted, herding the three adults toward the front door. "Come on, will you!" She was almost weeping in frustrating having caught Severus' edge of fear.

Puzzled but willing, the three of them accompanied her out the front door and as soon as Lily felt the suppression wards lift, she apparated home, the others following her as soon as they realised she had gone.

"Now what was that all about, Sweetpea?" James asked as he apparated into the livingroom, the Longbottoms hard on his heels, curiosity shining from their eyes.

Before Lily could say a word, the alarm charms on both Aurors' wrists chimed an alert. Frank hurried over to the fire and stuck his head into the flames, calling for Auror headquarters. A few seconds later, he pulled out and stared at Lily in narrow-eyed calculation.

"It seems there is an attack in progress at Chigwell House, you know, where we were a few minutes ago. How did you know, Lily?" he asked harshly.

"Severus told me to get you out, especially the children."

"'Severus' as in Severus Snape? What is your connection to Severus Snape?"

"He is my friend, he always has been. Is that a problem with you, Frank Longbottom?" Lily asked equally narrow-eyed.

Alice glanced down at her son sleeping so trustingly on her chest then across at Harry snuggled up to his mother. "Is that who was behind you when you brought the children down?" she asked shrewdly. "I thought I saw someone lurking in the shadows."

"Neville was crying and he went to see what was wrong." Lily stroked Harry's head gently. "Severus has a soft spot for babies, although he will not admit it. When he realised who the children were, he told me to take them and flee before the trouble started. Look, you idiots, Severus has been instrumental in sending quite a lot of good information over to the Order. Where do you think some of the intelligence comes from?" She was almost stamping her foot in impatience.

Frank nodded slowly. "Professor Dumbledore said something of the sort at the last meeting, that not all the Death Eaters were blindly loyal, that some of them followed their conscience, not the party line. Look, I have to get to work; we are trying to stop the attack so we need every Auror we can get hold of. Alice, you want in?"

"Lily? Can you look after Neville?"

"Sure, he can sleep in Harry's cot tonight," Lily said heavily. "Look out for Severus if you can," she asked quietly.

"If we can," Alice agreed before the two Aurors apparated.

James shook his head and enfolded his wife in a close hug. "You always did have a soft spot for Snivillus, didn't you?" he commented, kissing her hair.

"Are you angry?"

"No. I think he paid off a Wizard's debt this evening. We're even now." Both sighed deeply.

~~*~~

Lord Voldemort was furious, snarling and casting Cruciatus indiscriminately over anyone who even came within his line of sight. It had been a very poor raid. He had failed to gain access to the people he wanted. The carefully laid take-over and conversion of the audience at Chigwell House should have given him control of three departments at the Ministry of Magic. Unfortunately, it had not! The Head of the Department of Mysteries had suffered a terrible blow to the head when one idiotic Death Eater had been too enthusiastic in casting expelliarmus and tossed him into a piece of moulding that had caved in his skull. The man was dead before he hit the floor.

The second target, Lucinda Scurvox, second Speaker to the Wizengamot had somehow managed to escape being taken by jumping out of a window. Macnair himself had tried to stop her and was now in a satisfactory condition, Severus having treated his broken jaw and mangled left hand.

Their third and least important target, Bramwell Jones had succumbed to the Imperius Curse very smoothly and easily, a willing and almost fawning convert to his cause. He was part of the Ministry of Education and while not immediately useful, the Dark Lord was sure he would think of something for the man to do in the near future. In fact, he had a vague idea that was slowly coming together in his head but that would take time.

In the meantime he had to practice the language Severus had introduced him to. Lord Voldemort had a plan to complete the splitting of his soul into his Horcruxes but he still wanted the Founder's tokens with a greed that would be satisfied by nothing less. He personally might not be able to get into Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry but there were other loyal servants who would willingly do his bidding, it was just a matter of choosing the right one.

21.09.2006