Rating:
PG-13
House:
Schnoogle
Ships:
Lucius Malfoy/Severus Snape
Characters:
Severus Snape
Genres:
Alternate Universe Slash
Era:
The First War Against Voldemort (Cir. 1970-1981)
Spoilers:
Philosopher's Stone
Stats:
Published: 04/22/2006
Updated: 11/15/2006
Words: 133,299
Chapters: 24
Hits: 12,488

Snape the Younger

Les Dowich

Story Summary:
COMPLETE. Severus Snape came from somewhere; he didn't just appear at Hogwarts. We have had hints of his back story but no one really knows it. How did he get to be a snarky bastard? Why? Who knows, besides JK Rowling? So, this series of short chapter/stories explores the possibilities which include Potions College, Malfoys, The Dark Lord and even Remus Lupin, as well as a growing conviction that the world is not a nice place.

Chapter 22 - The Bright White Light

Chapter Summary:
Snape is taken to Hogwarts by his house-elf to overcome the affects of the potion he has taken. The results of that one incident are far reaching and life changing
Posted:
11/13/2006
Hits:
373


  • The Bright White Light

The whole office groaned and shook, a wave of unmitigated misery trembling through the very stones upon which they stood. Wild, uncontrolled magic tore at the walls and raced in waves up the columns supporting the roof, infusing the very stones with its grief and mourning. Albus surged to his feet almost tipping the tea tray into Minerva's lap as he felt the first burst slam into his consciousness of Hogwarts.

"Good grief, Albus, what on earth is that?" Minerva demanded as even the portraits looked shocked.

"That is a soul in torment somewhere in the building, stronger than any I have felt during my tenure as Headmaster," Albus replied hastily as he hurried out the door, the Transfigurations teacher hard on his heels.

The waves of wild magic beat at them trying to hold them back as they headed down the stairs to the dungeon regions but Dumbledore was the Headmaster of Hogwarts and the castle liked him, helping him move against the forces that tried to keep him away. Disarrayed and windswept, the two teachers finally made it to the isolated section of the dungeons where doors banged and the stones wept, where the waves of grief and desolation were causing Minerva to weep uncontrollably even as she forced her way in behind Albus.

Nimbil had taken Severus' last words very literally and brought him to his bed, the bed he had inherited from his mother. The young man lay in a foetal curl, unmoving and wide-eyed as the house-elf battled against the uncontrolled waves of mourning that heralded the death of dreams. There was no escape from the connection with Tom's mind even though he was physically removed almost the whole country's length away from his lover. The potion was powerful and had at least another half an hour to go before the effect wore off completely. What the Family notes and grimories did not mention was that the Dark Magic called up despair and disharmony, feeding on it and relishing the horror, terror and agony it caused; reinforcing itself with the negative power and magnifying the effect effortlessly.

Albus managed to make his way to the side of the huge bed and laid a gentle hand on the young man's brow, fighting against the roiling emotions that battered at his well-protected mind. Whatever had a grip on the young man's mind was not letting go and made it almost impossible for Albus to get past the chemical barrier it had raised to make sure the potion was not neutralised prematurely, another twist of the Dark Blood magic that was not mentioned in the grimories. The elf crouched on the mattress near Severus' head nearly cast a banishing spell on the intruders but then recognised an ally in her hope of helping her master.

"What happened to him?" Albus asked of the house-elf who hunched in the lee of her master's back.

"Master is taking a potion and is not being happy with the result. Nimbil is giving him the solution as he instructed her but it is not going away very fast."

"Ah. Severus, Severus my boy, can you hear me?" Albus called softly, brushing the long black hair aside gently. There was no response but by bending a little Dumbledore was able to make eye contact with the young man and cast Legilimens on him.

It was like walking into a tornado!

Wailing demons of grief and self-doubt swirled and shrieked, claws ripping at the huddled figures at their centre, all three weeping and sobbing the racking shudders of a soul in torment. Unable to make the shadows of soul respond, Albus fought his way forward against the wind that tried to destroy him and fell on one knee, gathering the soul components up in his arms. For a second the three manifestations of Snape resisted, then all three tried to burrow into his embrace, holding tightly against the punishing fury of their own grief. Anchoring them, Albus realised Minerva was now at his side in the real world and motioned her to hold the physical form while he held the spirit forms, hoping simple human contact could break past the walls of torment and reach the young man at the centre of the storm.

Finally, an undefined time later, as the wild magic slowed and the soul allowed physical expression of grief, Severus wept unrestrainedly. Soul deep, shuddering sobs shook the older witch who held him tightly, unable to reconcile the sarcastic and unbelievably emotionless young Pureblood with the broken and heart-broken youth who allowed her to pet his hair and stroke his back making meaningless, wordless sounds of comfort. She continued to sooth and gentle, accepting a handkerchief from the small house-elf both for herself and for the boy in her lap. Albus was still deeply engaged in the Legilimency spell and could no more answer questions than the boy could.

They remained so until Albus suddenly stiffened and straightened, breaking the connection with the boy abruptly. Minerva blinked as the Headmaster swayed and shuddered, one hand clutching his head.

"What is it, Albus?" she asked abruptly, noting the sheen of sweat on the older man's forehead.

Albus took a deep breath and shuddered before attempting a smile that was more of a grimace. "I believe I was just, er, tossed out on my ear," he said with a touch of hesitant humour. "Severus has been badly hurt as young men in love sometimes are. Unfortunately, he trusted and that trust was abused and now he is... well, no matter, we shall see how he is when he wakes. I have placed a sleeping charm on his soul so that he may find a little rest this evening, some peace to recover."

"Is that wise?" Minerva asked as she efficiently retrieved a thick blanket from the chest at the foot of the bed.

"Better than having my office shake itself to pieces, I should think," Albus said humorously as he moved to the door of the dungeon but the Transfigurations Mistress noticed he was a little more stooped and moved a little more slowly than usual.

Minerva had not a single maternal bone in her body but she carefully tucked the exhausted young man in and patted his shoulder before leaving the bedroom and dimming the torches as she left. The tiny house-elf followed her out and closed the door after her before shifting from one foot to the other.

"Nimbil is having to go, Master Tom is calling and calling and now I is have to go or he is getting so mad at Master," she said apprehensively. "Master Severus is having to have this when he wakes up, I is asking kindly if you is giving it to him then." The house-elf offered the memory vial and the slip of parchment to both Albus and Minerva with a trembling hand.

"Can you not give it to Master Severus when you come back?" Minerva asked gently as the tiny creature seemed to be turning greyer and fainter before their very eyes.

"No, Nimbil is not coming back, it is Nimbil's time now, she knows. I is going to go so Master Severus is not going to go. You will take care of him; he is a good master, and kind."

Albus sighed and nodded his understanding. "He will be heart-broken all over again."

"He will be free!" the house-elf said forcefully and dissapparated instantly.

"Did she just..." Minerva asked shocked.

"Yes, she is going to ensure Severus is fully free of Tom. There is more to house-elves than anyone ever realises, with their own set of values and obligations," Albus assured the witch softly as they departed the suite. "No one ever really appreciates their complete loyalty and their complexity which our society refuses to acknowledge."

~~*~~

The house-elf materialised on the hearthrug before the two powerful wizards, her knees shaking as she nodded and bowed, assuring them that the Master was safe and well in his bed. House-elves never lied, everyone knew that, so when she said Master Severus had eaten a bad shellfishy they believed her totally but when she refused to bring him back so they could heal him, Malfoy lost his temper and bellowed lashing out at the tiny creature furiously. In a castle half a country away, a young man stirred and mewled as if in pain, the potion-enhanced connection with Tom Riddle sending the scene to his mind in vivid living colour.

Tom glared and grabbed the small elf by the throat, shaking her roughly before bringing her up eye to eye. He didn't even think as he cast Legilimens on the small creature, invading her alien mind without thought. It was totally disorientating and overwhelming, ripping his magic away and baring him to the bone. The sheer hate and fear that engulfed him was astonishing in itself. The elf hated him, hated him with a bone-deep passion for the way he treated her dear master, the way he used her master and how he planned to destroy her master. If she could keep him safe by any means, she would, including denying Tom access to him while he was recovering from food poisoning.

Roaring inarticulately, Tom grabbed the elf's feet and swung her body hard, slamming her into the edge of the marble fireplace with skull-crushing force. The elf died instantly, her last expression one of unadulterated satisfaction which stayed even as her life left. Lucius stood gawping at his master, all spells ripped away as the house-elf died, seeing him fully for the first time in his life, a bone-thin, bone-white caricature of a man with blazing red eyes and melted wax features. The true sight only lasted a moment before the potent spells reasserted themselves but the sight was embedded in Lucius' consciousness. And was instantly engulfed and hidden from all ken almost without trace. That was not a thought that Lucius wanted any casual Legilimency to discover, especially with the Dark Lord in his present mood.

"Damn, Severus is not going to be pleased about that," he remarked then winced when he realised he had spoken aloud.

Tom turned to his henchman and sneered. "Dispose of it and make sure he never finds out," Lord Voldemort ordered, dropping the small carcass onto the hearthstone.

Even as Lucius nodded his acquiescence, hundreds of miles away, Severus cried out in agony. The bindings Tom had placed upon his soul all those years ago when he had lain beaten and mostly dead were shrivelled to ash, incinerated in healthy, healing fury and a resolution that hardened into inflexible steel. He knew the last nail had been hammered into the coffin that held what used to be his love for Tom Riddle. He was free of emotional entanglement, only the crude leash of the mor mordre on his arm still held him to the dark cause. It would be enough for his new purpose.

~~*~~

Severus managed to sleep a full ten hours, a very long sleep for him. When he awoke the headmaster was sitting by his bed reading a book of what looked like ancient Greek poetry. The old man closed the book and smiled benignly as the young man yawned then stiffened as memory reasserted itself, a new wave of betrayal swamping Severus all over again. Albus saw the misery warp into a sneer and sighed deeply.

"It will get better in the future," he said softly as a house-elf popped in and deposited a breakfast tray on the bedside table.

"Will it? Will Tom magically undergo a change of heart and not offer me to my grandmother for her consumption? Will I suddenly have worth and value in this world, be a real person instead of a tool and a weapon? Stop trying to get into my mind, old man!" Severus screamed, tossing the tray aside and scrambling out of bed, heading for the safety of the bathroom at a run.

Albus shook his head and waved his wand to clean up the mess before the sound of vomiting and angry tears made him sigh deeply. Perhaps he should not have tried to creep into the boy's mind, perhaps that was not the strategy to use in this situation but he needed to see what Snape was feeling and what he was thinking. Severus was a Death Eater, of that there was no doubt, obviously a trusted one too until he had decided to find out how true Tom Riddle's feelings were for him. Merlin, if Severus was as highly placed as the glimpse of memories he had managed last night was any indication, it would be like having a direct floo connection right into the heart of the conspiracy! What price a young man's ego when stacked against that?

Severus returned to the bedroom and ignored the Headmaster as he glanced around then sighed, slumping against the mattress dejectedly. "He killed Nimbil too, for no real reason, just because he could, I suppose," he muttered sadly, remembering how eager the young house-elf had been to serve him and how proud she had been of her new position, brought down from Snape Manor to serve the Head of Family at such a young age. "You know, I really can't forgive him for that. It's as bad as killing Muggle children who are as helpless as fish in a barrel and no challenge at all."

"You should eat something," Albus said gently, making Severus turn to stare at him then laugh bitterly.

"No exclamations of horror at my skewed values? No exhortations to accept Mudbloods and half-breeds as 'real people' not inferiors?"

"Would it make a difference if I did, Severus? I do not believe that is a line of thought you truly follow. I don't think you give a damn about the politics of the war, one way or the other, if the truth be told," Albus said in measured tones.

"You're right, I don't care, only that we are protected from the Muggle hordes which are as numerous as locusts and would overwhelm our kind through sheer numbers. I do not agree with Tom's 'destroy them all' policy, nor do I subscribe to your 'embrace the masses' policy either. I personally am quite happy to live out my life without ever taking another Muggle life or encountering another Mudblood ever again but I know that is not going to happen. People like Lily Potter completely negate Tom's argument that Muggle-borns are impotent and a drain on our society." He snorted with laughter at the Headmaster's rapidly changing and never certain expression. "What's wrong, Headmaster, did you think I would be for or against one side or the other? Sorry to disappoint, I really don't give a shit."

Albus sighed. "You do actually give a toss, Severus, your eyes belie your argument and you mouth the indifferent line... with indifference."

Severus opened his mouth then shut it on a broken breath. "Perhaps," he conceded grimly. "Headmaster, I need to think, I need to assimilate all the information I received yesterday and I need to make a decision on what to do with that information. I-I can't, I can't just... I...." He turned away and tipped back his head to stare at the ceiling, blinking hard. "Please, I will make a decision and tell you soon."

"Very well, Severus. Remember this, I will not judge you, you will judge yourself and you will have to live with that judgement for the rest of your life."

Severus laughed bitterly as he listened to the Headmaster leave.

~~*~~

"And you just left?" Minerva asked incredulously. "My God, Albus, he is a Death Eater, you said so yourself, we should inform the Ministry at the very least."

"And let them do what? Take him to Azkaban, let the Dementors have him? I think there has been so little joy in that boy's life that a Dementor would not even register him as a human being."

"But still... a Death Eater, Albus, he might murder us all in our beds." The witch shuddered, then shuddered again as Albus offered her a bag of liquorice allsorts.

"You must remember, Minerva, that the school let him in, above and beyond every other consideration, Hogwarts let him in."

~~*~~

"I have made a decision," Severus announced as he entered the Headmaster's study and stood before the large desk with his head bent, the picture of a penitent schoolboy.

"I'm glad, Severus," Albus said encouragingly, rising and leading his newest teacher over to the sofa, conjuring tea and cake without even asking what Severus preferred.

For a moment, Severus wondered what the old man would say if he conjured up a glass of firewhiskey then he sighed and shook his head, accepting the cup resignedly, rather horrified as a new wave of emotion shook him, causing the cup to rattle ominously on the saucer. A single tear escaped his iron control, tracking down his cheek to drip onto his hand with a hot salty splash. It was followed by another and yet another until Severus wondered if he would ever be able to stop the sobs that shook him so badly. It was ridiculous, he was a grown man, he had murdered people, tortured, maimed and destroyed people with less emotion than a single kind hand laid on his shoulder evoked. Almost by habit he lifted his head and invited the Headmaster into his mind, unabashed and unashamed of the tears he still failed to control.

Surprised, Albus entered the domain of his Potions Master's mind, amazed at the complex structure and twisted pathways presented to him. He waited, not pushing or forcing but only moving as fast as the resistance allowed, the slow entry worth the wait when he found the odd triviat personality being that Severus used to express his inner life. All three aspects of the Snape persona were sad, huddled together and weeping as despair clung to them like a dripping shroud. Flashes of memory sprang like tigers from out of the darkness, clawing and shrieking and tearing, never allowing them to heal or be at peace. If this was the condition of Severus' mind, no wonder he wept on the outside. A lesser man would be slitting his wrists.

"Ah Severus, what has happened to you, my poor child?" Albus asked as the three-fold being slowly sighed and shuddered into silence but the aftershocks still shook them all.

"I-I ... don't know where to start," Snape said softly, rustily.

"Show him," Ibrim counselled, the darkly silvered soul substance seeming more solid than even the physical manifestation termed Severus. "Let him judge as we are obviously incapable of guiding our own destiny. We are not wise in our choices, either in love or in leaders," the soul confessed sadly to the old wizard. All three aspects nodded agreement and almost bowled Albus over with the flood of information they tossed at him, every last detail of their lives so far, including the glorious and inglorious, sexual and asexual, torment and torture they had suffered or inflicted. Nothing was held back; nothing excused or varnished; an airing of every small detail without fear or favour, honesty in its purest form.

"You are young and do not have any experience of a normal life, I think," Albus tried to exonerate and dissipate the guilt and grief emanating from his youngest teacher. His mind reeled at the sheer volume of information he had been given, an almost impossible overload. Severus was baring his soul, his very being and forcing Albus to judge every action and reaction he had ever had. It was impossible of course, no one could assimilate an entire lifetime of experience in a few seconds, not even as short a life as Severus Snape's, and Albus didn't try. He simply accepted all the information, knowing he would have to spend a lot of time in his Pensieve thinking and analysing but knowing the details would be invaluable to the future course of the war against Lord Voldemort. For a moment, Albus chided himself for being so self-serving but honesty compelled him to recognise the value of the opportunity he had just been given. If this man could be brought willingly to support their cause, he would be invaluable!

"I think we are a twisted creature, incapable of being normal, we are attracted to the Dark in the same way a light attracts the moth," Snape stormed, anger making him seem less beaten and broken.

It was a good sign, Albus thought, weighing his response carefully before he spoke. "I think you are a well-tempered man who has finally come to a real conclusion on your own without the input of those who would use you and twist you to their own ends. You say you are not normal but you realise you have been tricked and lied to and are both grieving and furious, both very normal reactions. That you recognise that you have been used and abused shows a normal reaction of a healthy young man who trusted and had his trust abused. Thus, having unmasked the devil masquerading as a lover, you are now equipped to deal with the situation, but I do urge you to caution. I fear, Severus, that you may not be able to 'interact' with Tom in your usual fashion now and he may retaliate, killing or stealing your soul."

"Would it matter?" Severus asked glumly. "Between him and my Grandmother there's not much of my soul left," he muttered gloomily, surprised when Albus laughed gently.

"This Ibrim part of your triad seems healthy and whole enough to me, only slightly blemished but no more than is usual in someone who is learned in the Dark Arts but does not practise Black Magic very often."

The three parts studied the Ibrim component of the triad then chuckled waterily. "So I am being somewhat melodramatic," Severus sighed and shuddered. "Tell me, Albus, what price a soul? What will you cost me if I choose to support your cause freely and wholeheartedly?"

Albus rocked back on his figurative heels but was shrewd enough not to lie to the man, especially on the plane they presently inhabited. "Oh, you will gamble with your soul, I do assure you, as surely as following the Dark Path would, but at least you will still own it when you are finished the course. Your position is unique in that you are a trusted member of Lord Voldemort's inner circle and as such can command entry to many secret types of council. If you choose to, you could be invaluable to us as a spy for the Order and indirectly the rest of the Wizarding world. It's a painful, bitter route with very few rewards I am offering you, especially at the level you will be capable of operating, but in the end you will have the satisfaction of knowing you have done the best you can with what you have. And Severus, your best will be truly remarkable, I assure you."

"Will I be happy and loved?" he asked sarcastically, daring the older man to lie.

"No, probably not, not in the short term, but you will be Right."

"Right!" Severus laughed bitterly, then nodded his head in agreement. "I will be Right, vindicated even if it kills me, especially if it kills me, then I will be free of this... whatever you want to call it... this life."

Albus bowed his head and sighed. "I will stand by you and do my utmost to protect you but Severus, you have been Marked and that will be all the self-righteous can see. As I said, it will not be an easy path you may choose but it will be rewarding in its own, understated way."

"I'll hold you to that, Old Man. Dharicz caz?" Severus smirked as he called upon an older form of magic to seal the bargain, almost daring Dumbledore to respond incorrectly.

"Very well, dharicz caz," Albus responded in kind, without hesitation, and the potent phrase wrapped them both in the spoken promise. "To venture's end."

19.10.2006