Into the Fold

Dealing with Dumbledore

Autumn 1980

Severus stared into the fireplace out of which he'd stepped--he didn't know how long ago. He'd lit neither fire nor candles since arriving home, so he couldn't see the clock on his mantelpiece. He didn't pull his watch from his pocket, didn't light his wand. He sat in cold, smothering darkness and thought of nothing but that he had condemned Lily to death.

Memories, all of Lily, unquelled by Occlumency, flooded his mind, from the first day he'd seen her with her sister at the playground.

"Remember, Lily, you heard Mummy. No more of your freak tricks. You shouldn't have let Mrs Atkins see you doing that to the teapot."

"It poured tea! How did that hurt anybody?" Lily wore a defensive look that even at the age of nine Severus understood all too well.

"It poured tea without anybody touching it. No wonder Mrs Atkins hasn't been back. Who wants to be friends with somebody whose daughter's a freak?"

"I'm not a freak!"

Obviously it was an old argument. Obviously Lily knew rejection. Was that what had brought Severus back to the playground again and again? Had he needed more than magic? Had he needed someone else whose family thought they were a freak?

He was wrong about that, as he was wrong about so much concerning Lily. Her parents loved her magic. Petunia, consumed with envy, made herself the outsider by insisting on hating it.

Severus took Lily away from Petunia, to Hogwarts. And for a time as magical as the ever-changing ceiling of the Great Hall, the moving staircases, the fearful creatures of the Forbidden Forest, he had her to himself. Her laughter, her red hair, her green eyes strange even among wizards, but to him, he slowly realised, beautiful.

Beautiful as they had put their heads together over homework assignments in the library, as he'd craned his neck to look at her from the Slytherin table at mealtimes; beautiful as he'd raced her across the Hogwarts lawns in the long spring evenings, as he'd said good-night to her beneath the Fat Lady's portrait.

Beautifully, brilliantly reflecting the light of Lord Voldemort's curse.

"You've chosen your way, I've chosen mine."

Her way, which had led her into the Dark Lord's sights.

"We have to fight him, we have to get rid of him before our children are old enough to suffer the way we've suffered."

She was a member of the Order. He'd known it before the Lord had told him so, on the night he'd taken the Mark. And yet he had carried Trelawney's prophecy to the Dark Lord. He could tell himself he hadn't known it referred to Lily. He couldn't pretend he hadn't known what the Dark Lord would do.

I can't pretend anymore.

He couldn't pretend any longer not to know what Voldemort was about. He'd seen Dawlish and the Prewetts, he'd been to meetings with Lucius and Bellatrix, Dolohov and Travers. He bore the Dark Lord's Mark. He was a Death Eater. Death Eaters dealt in death.

Like it says on the tin, innit? Tobias would have said.

Severus leapt from his chair and paced about the sitting room, dodging chairs and tables by memory alone. I can't pretend. If he didn't do something, Lily would die. Do what? He didn't know. He could ask Mother, perhaps; she was a pure-blood, she knew these people. All except the half-blood Lord Voldemort. And what if he attracted the Lord's attention by going to her; what if he put his own mother as well as Lily into Voldemort's sights?

No. He had to do this himself. But he couldn't fight Lord Voldemort; he wore his slave's brand on his left arm. And now he was back in the chair before the cold fireplace, bowed over his lap, his head in his hands. There, crouched, he heard an animal's cry of pain.

No, not an animal's, unless he called himself that. His own cry of pain.

Someone help me, please.

No one answered. He sat curled in misery, in the darkness for he didn't how long, until an idea trickled into his brain. Slowly he straightened, slowly rose to his feet. There was one wizard who might help him, one whom the Dark Lord seemed to fear.

With an absent flick of his wand, Severus lit the candles in the sitting room. Realising that he was shivering, he pointed his wand at the fireplace, where flames sprang to life.

Dumbledore. If he wanted to. But how to reach him? Not by a fireplace connected to Malfoy Manor, nor an owl given to him by the Dark Lord. Did he dare go to Hogwarts?

"Never set foot in Hogwarts again, Severus Snape, or you will not be safe from me."

Dumbledore was capable of killing, Voldemort had said. If Severus disobeyed the phoenix's order, Dumbledore might kill. If he found out how Severus had betrayed Lily, he might kill. It didn't matter. Severus couldn't imagine the alternative, standing by and letting Lily die. He was reaching for his train schedule--perhaps there was an express train to Hogsmeade tonight--when something else occurred to him.

If Dumbledore had sent his Patronus to speak to Severus, then Severus could send his Patronus to speak to Dumbledore. It would be quicker than the Hogwarts Express, and safer, for what if some Death Eater saw him boarding the train? He had no business going to Hogwarts; he wasn't a teacher, he had no child there. But he didn't know how to send messages by Patronus.

I've made up a bit of a spell, Dumbledore had said. Severus didn't know the spell; he couldn't send his cry for help by Patronus. "Why not?" he demanded aloud, infuriated by the injustice. "My Patronus is me, it's myself, why won't it do what I want?" It was made of his memory of Lily. He called the memory forth and the silver doe leapt from his wand. Turning, she regarded him with liquid eyes. "Why can't you help me save Lily?"

She cocked her head, and he knew what the posture meant: Why don't you just ask me?

It was something Lily herself might say.

He gazed into the silver doe's eyes and put every ounce of will behind his thought: Dumbledore. I must speak to him.

The doe looked at him a moment longer, then inclined her head. She turned toward the sitting-room window. It flew open, and a strong wind blew the curtains aside. The doe leapt through the window and dashed away, into the blustery autumn sky.

****

Severus waited, shivering. For some reason, he didn't want to close the window, to remove the wind blowing against his face or the sight of the stars. The candles flickered dangerously, but they didn't go out. And presently the phoenix appeared, like a brighter, livelier star, that grew into a silver bird, which flew through the window and landed on the hearthrug.

The phoenix was on fire, yet not consumed. Severus shrank away from the flames. Dumbledore's voice came from the centre of his burning Patronus:

"Find me on Hog's Hill."

In an explosion of fire that reached to the ceiling of Severus's flat, the phoenix disappeared.

Severus hadn't had time to answer, but the instruction seemed clear enough. Hog's Hill was the closest of the many rugged, wind-beaten hills that surrounded the village of Hogsmeade. Severus picked up his train schedule, put on his travelling cloak and headed for King's Cross station.

****

No one followed Severus to the train station as far as he knew, and no one stepped behind him through the barrier to Platform Nine-and-Three-Quarters. He rode alone in his compartment on the thinly-passengered Hogwarts Express. But if the truth were known, he was probably past caring whether spies tracked his movements. His mind was filled with saving Lily's life.

****

He did take the trouble to skirt the lane that led to the Hog's Head as he walked through the dark streets of Hogsmeade. He left the high street at Puddifoot Lane and made a beeline across a meadow towards Hog's Hill. No one else was out. He heard nothing but the crackling of frostbitten grass beneath his feet and the moaning of the wind.

Presently the hill loomed before him, black against the star-studded sky. Severus drew his wand as the path sloped beneath his feet. No help was nearby if he encountered dangerous strays from the forest.

He reached the top of Hog's Hill. Here on the unprotected hilltop the wind rose to a howl, and the trees it battered groaned in protest. It blew into Severus's face, lifting his hair from his collar and blowing it straight back. Wand raised, he turned slowly in a circle, surveying the landscape. There was no one and nothing to be seen but branches stripped of their leaves, swaying in the fierce wind.

He felt naked, exposed. Fear--never far from him at the best of times these days--began to infiltrate his mind. Had he been lured into a trap? If Dumbledore had ever had reason to love him, he surely didn't now. He might feel uniquely betrayed by the pupil whom he had personally tutored in Patronus-conjuring, whom he had protected from the consequences of casting a deadly Sectumsempra on his favourite, James Potter--the valued Order member who had gone on to thrice defy Voldemort.

He was here alone, at midnight, at Dumbledore's behest. No one knew where he had gone. As preoccupied as he was, he'd tried to make sure of that. No one would know what happened to him. No one but Dumbledore.

The Aurors, those paragons who fought Dark wizards, now shot to kill. No one objected. Most cheered them on. It's the times, everyone said.

A wizard who can kill, Voldemort had said, and lightning rent the air; a spell cast from a strong wizard's mind yanked Severus's wand from his hand and threw him to his knees.

It was Dumbledore, robes billowing, white beard flying in the wind, looking like an avenging angel. He gripped two wands, and Severus's hands were empty

"Don't kill me!" Severus cried.

"That was not my intention."

Severus scrambled to his feet and stared into Dumbledore's face, lit eerily from below by his wand.

"Well, Severus? What message does Lord Voldemort have for me?"

"No--no message--I'm here on my own account!"

On his own account, the enemy, at that moment, of the two most powerful wizards in the world. Alone, friendless! the wind seemed to moan at him, and terror flooded him anew. He clenched his hands into a knotted grip. "I--I come with a warning--no, a request--please--"

Dumbledore silenced the keening wind. "What request could a Death Eater make of me?"

"The--the prophecy... the prediction... Trelawney..."

"Ah, yes." Severus could hear the anger rising beneath Dumbledore's smooth contempt. "How much did you relay to Lord Voldemort?"

"Everything--everything I heard!" Fear took his breath. "That is why--it is for that reason--he thinks it means Lily Evans!"

"The prophecy did not refer to a woman," said Dumbledore. "It spoke of a boy born at the end of July--"

"You know what I mean!" Severus cried. "He thinks it means her son, he is going to hunt her down--kill them all--"

"If she means so much to you, surely Lord Voldemort will spare her? Could you not ask for mercy for the mother, in exchange for the son?"

"I have--I have asked him--"

"You disgust me," said Dumbledore, and too late Severus saw the trap. "You do not care, then, about the deaths of her husband and child? They can die, as long as you have what you want?"

Had he fallen into the trap, or stepped willingly? For it was true. I want her to live, that's all. I want her to live.

"Hide them all, then," he said, raw-throated, to Dumbledore's implacable face. "Keep her--them--safe. Please."

"And what will you give me in return, Severus?"

"In--in return?" Severus's mouth dropped open. He could bargain with Lily's life? And what payment would he ask? I don't care. "Anything."

"Anything," Dumbledore repeated. He gazed at Severus over his glasses. Then his face relaxed and his shoulders sagged slightly. "Very well, then. Let's go." He gave back Severus's wand and with a flick of his own returned to the wind its roar. Stumbling in relief as much as weariness, Severus followed Dumbledore down Hog's Hill toward Hogwarts Castle.

****

An hour later, seated in Dumbledore's office, Severus was still shivering. Dumbledore watched him for a moment. Then he turned to a cabinet, removed a bottle and glass, poured out two fingers of firewhisky and set the glass on the table in front of Severus.

"There. Drink. And congratulate yourself on lying successfully to me."

Severus drank in silence and waited for the liquor to warm him.

"Do you even know what I'm talking about?"

Severus shrugged and drank some more.

"The prophecy. When you told me you hadn't heard it, I believed you. Aberforth called me a fool."

The whisky's heat spread through Severus's body, and he looked up. But his mind was so full of the hope that he'd saved Lily that he didn't understand Dumbledore.

"At the Hog's Head," Dumbledore said gently. "Outside Miss Trelawney's door."

"You knew I lied," said Severus. "You sent your Patronus." He glanced nervously into the corner where the true phoenix slept on its perch, its head nestled under a wing.

"Not until later. I came to agree with Aberforth that your story sounded a little far-fetched. But I didn't see your lie until I examined my memories in the Pensieve. So, as I said, congratulations. It's been a very long time since someone successfully lied to me."

Severus looked away. "Thank you" didn't seem the right thing to say.

"Who taught you Occlumency?" asked Dumbledore.

"The Dark Lord."

"Ah, yes." Severus looked up to see Dumbledore's eyes straying to his left arm. "You...a Death Eater. When I finally realised that, inside the Pensieve, I was surprised. I'm not sure I should have been. Yet your Patronus, when it came to me this evening... it was as strong and beautiful as ever."

"What do you want me to give you for protecting Lily?"

"I've been incredibly stupid, haven't I? She's your Patronus. She's your memory."

"What do you want?"

"Forgive an old man. Sometimes I forget what it's like to be in love." Dumbledore took another glass from the cabinet, poured himself whisky and sat down at his desk, facing Severus. "I want to offer you what you sought from me the last time we met. I have a Professor's position coming open, and I'd like you to take it."

"You do?" Severus said in astonishment. He hadn't known what to expect, but it wasn't that.

"Not Defence Against the Dark Arts. I've already filled that position, and besides, I was right to say you weren't suitable, wasn't I?"

A Professor at Hogwarts. Severus was stupefied by the absurdity of it. He'd be doing exactly what Voldemort wanted. "Which, then?"

"Potions. Horace Slughorn has suddenly decided he wants to retire at the end of the autumn term. He says it's because he's getting on in years, but that's nonsense; he's much younger than I am. I think he simply doesn't want to be associated with me any more, for which, given the times and his House, I can hardly blame him. At any rate, he won't hear of staying till the end of the year, so I'll need you to start after Christmas, which means you'd better give notice at St Mungo's--"

"In return for protecting Lily Evans, you want me to become Professor of Potions?"

"Lily Potter," said Dumbledore. "And that isn't all I want."

Of course not. "What do you want?" Severus repeated for the third time.

"I want you to do for me what you were going to do for Lord Voldemort."

As what he meant sank in, Severus hardly heard what he said next.

"...Lord Voldemort will find it even more believable, I think, that you could be Potions Master than Defence Against the Dark Arts Master, as you've been an Apothecary at St Mungo's. Although I realise he sent you to apply for Defence Against the Dark Arts because that was my only opening last spring."

"You want me to spy on the Dark Lord," Severus finally managed to say.

"I am inviting you to join the Order of the Phoenix."

"I don't see how that is even possible."

"You don't?" asked Dumbledore. "Why not?"

"He's a Legilimens."

"Ah, I see what you mean. So he is. And he doesn't try to cultivate the same good manners I pride myself on using in the practice of Legilimency. But you, on the other hand, are an Occlumens, and a superb one at that."

"Not superb enough to hide anything from the Dark Lord."

"But you--"

"You're sending me to my death. Is that how you'll make me pay for Lily's protection?"

"If you'll let me finish, I'll tell you that you have already hidden something from Voldemort. If he knew that you loved--not merely desired, but loved Lily Potter, we wouldn't be sitting here together drinking Ogden's. You'd be dead."

Severus stared at him. And he remembered the invisibility cloak which, by the nudgings of his deepest instinct, had rolled itself over his mind in the Dark Lord's presence.

Dumbledore's eyes widened. "Why, that's very clever. Not a fortified wall or a sword with which to fight. A cloak, as fine and strong as silk, that gives way when you probe it without giving a way through. The Legilimens thinks he's seen all--when he hasn't."

"What makes you think I won't use my mental mantle to hide things from you--again?"

"'Mental mantle,'" said Dumbledore thoughtfully. "That's the perfect name for the magic. Like Sectumsempra. Like Textum." He had smiled faintly for a moment, but now he looked serious, even sad. "I know you. He doesn't. I know that the woman you love is in every way his opposite. I was there when with your love you conjured your first Patronus. I trust you, Severus Snape."

Severus shivered to hear Dumbledore speak his full name.

"And I can't protect Lily or her family without your help."

"Do you really think he confides his secrets to me?"

"He'll parcel a few of them out to you, if he hasn't yet. Aren't you a member of his Inner Circle, after carrying the prophecy to him?"

"Yes. I am."

Dumbledore cocked an eyebrow at him. "Don't be too proud of it. Lord Voldemort's Inner Circle is not the safest place to be. Although I think you'll do well enough. You have your Occlumency. And then, given what he'll consider to be your weakness for Lily Potter, Voldemort will want to play with you. If he finds the Potters and is ready to strike, he may well let you know."

Really, this could be amusing. Yes, the Dark Lord might well do that.

"If not," continued Dumbledore, "you might hear information that would help me protect the Order of which Lily's a member. The Order which will save her by bringing down Voldemort." He leaned back in his chair, folding his arms. On the wall above his head, the Sword of Gryffindor hung in its glass case. "Yes, this could work out very well. When Voldemort finds out I have hired you, he will think he has placed you next to my heart. And thus he will draw you closer to his."

Yes. It could work. The thought was a heady one, in spite of Severus's fear, as if he walked a tightrope above a chasm whose bottom he couldn't see. As if Lily watched him adoringly from the other side, doing something Potter could never do.

Except that she would never know. If he was to keep his cover, protect her properly, she must never know.

"No, indeed, I couldn't have a more valuable spy," said Dumbledore. "Right next to Voldemort's heart. Helping me to protect Lily Evans. And her child, our hope against the Dark Lord."

"Anything. I'll do anything to protect Lily Evans."

"Yes, you will." Dumbledore looked at him in silence for a moment. "We'll do that anything together, you and I. We'll protect Lily Evans."

****

The very next day, Severus received by owl his formal appointment to Hogwarts. So it would begin, he thought, sending Darius off to the Dark Lord with the news. That evening he received a summons by the Dark Mark and Flooed to the drawing room of Malfoy Manor.

"Excellent, Severus, excellent!" said Voldemort as soon as Severus had brushed the ashes off his robes. He seemed electrified. "What made the old man change his mind?"

The mental mantle was in place. "Horace Slughorn is retiring. And Dumbledore had left my application on file."

"Slughorn? Is that it? Well! I did invite him to join us, letting him know that I didn't like the company he was keeping. He turned down my invitation, but I'm glad he followed my advice."

Severus couldn't help but wonder whether Slughorn had made the right move by separating himself from Dumbledore.

"So, Potions. Well, that may be better suited to you than Defence Against the Dark Arts, given your experience at St Mungo's. You're in. That's what matters."

The Lord had an air of exultation about him, as if the infiltration into Hogwarts were a great victory, one he had never hoped to see before Severus had come along.

"How did you manage it?" asked Voldemort.

"I didn't. That is, I only went to the one interview. He seemed to feel as you do, my lord, that I'm better suited to Potions than Defence Against the Dark Arts."

"And you're sure he doesn't know you heard the prophecy?"

"He gave not the slightest indication that there was anything amiss."

"That is not the same thing where Dumbledore is concerned." Severus could feel the Lord searching his mind, but the mental mantle kept its place. "Still, he'd hardly take you on, would he, if he thought there was anything wrong?"

Severus had never seen the Dark Lord like this: his eyes were shining, his tone eager, he paced around the room, robes flying behind him, as if he could hardly contain himself. How long had he wanted a spy next to Dumbledore? And now he had one.

Voldemort stopped suddenly. "You wanted Lily Evans."

"Why, er--yes, my lord."

The Lord curled one long hand into a fist. "You shall have her," he said, thumping his fist into his other open palm in time with his words. Then he dropped both hands to his sides and grinned. Severus had never seen so many of his teeth. "That is, if she has the good sense to save herself."

By that, Severus knew he had been right to go to Albus Dumbledore. Before, Voldemort had had no intention of sparing Lily. Now that Severus had earned some few points of favour with the Potions position at Hogwarts, Voldemort had decided he might give her a few moments' head start before chasing her down and killing her.