Scar Mates

EPILOGUE/THE BEGINNING

Snape spent the remainder of the night where he'd passed the previous several nights, sitting at the boy's bedside. The Headmaster had not even objected, and had left him alone a few hours before. He reclined in his chair, his feet once again propped up on the end of the bed.

The Potions Master was schooled in keeping his face free of emotion. But now, alone with the boy, there was no need to maintain such a discipline. His exhaustion was apparent, brought on not only by the past three nights of vigil, but also by the posture of tension and awareness that the entire year had required of him. The need to protect the Stone and monitor the suspect Dark Arts professor was no longer a factor, and he was relieved to be free of both of these duties.

There was also relief that the whole muddled dilemma of the amulets had been finally resolved. This relief sprang not just from knowing that the connection with Harry had been severed, but also from the subtle recognition that a debt from the past had finally been paid. That faint picture he could summon in his mind's eye, of Lily's face, was no longer reproachful, but serene in approval.

Underlying this exhaustion and relief, however, was another emotion, one that he remembered from years ago. It was a reluctant wariness, a tool of the trade from his past, that he now realized it was time to take up again. That Voldemort was alive somewhere in some form could not be denied. And Snape knew that eventually he himself would once more be pulled into the drama. He felt a weary resignation, but was determined not to dwell on this now.

As the sky lightened, he considered the boy who was showing the first faint signs of stirring, his eyes moving rapidly beneath the still closed lids. Snape stood and moved to the head of the bed to look down at his face. He felt a most unusual, almost unsettling detachment, as he reached down to brush the dark hair away from the scar. Tracing it lightly with a fingertip, he murmured softly before turning to go, "Goodbye Harry. Be well. Be safe."

***

Snape slept through rest of the day, arising only in time to put in an appearance at the end of term feast. It would be his last official duty of the year, before some brief weeks of well-earned leisure.

He managed to display the disgruntled dismay expected of him when the awarding of the house cup was maneuvered from his own to house to Minerva's. When she poked him good-naturedly in the ribs, he told her dourly, "Congratulations, Minerva. I'll pay up on Friday."

There was one moment during the feast that had been unexpected. Talking to his neighbor, he suddenly felt the hair on the back of his neck bristle, a new sensation, along with the feeling that he was being inspected. He knew before he even swiveled his head that he would find those green eyes staring at him. They were unreadable this time, no hot glaze of accusation or suspicion, just...searching. As he met the look and held it, he noted with satisfaction that the contact seemed to elicit no painful response from either of them. Yet...there had been that bristle of warning that had alerted him that the child was considering him. I can abide it. It may even prove useful. The boy had averted his eyes first, but Snape had watched him a little while longer as he chatted with his friends.

***

It was tradition that the staff accompany the students to Hogsmeade to farewell them as they boarded the Express. The professors stood together on a small mound near the end of the train, and some of the students made their way over to say goodbye for the term. As the last of them scurried to board and find their seats, the staff dispersed, some of them with plans to dine that evening in the town. Snape had no such plans, and was looking forward to a quiet evening in the Headmaster's rooms and a game of chess. He had no doubt that this would be an occasion for the old man to break out the special brandy.

Lost in his thoughts as he made his way down the platform, he was brought up short by the small figure that almost collided with him. Reaching out a hand to steady the child from falling, he noted with a start that it was Harry Potter. Why am I not surprised? It seems we're destined to be on a collision course with one another.

Potter, out of breath, stared uncertainly at him for a moment, then muttered, "Sorry, Professor, I was just..." But then he stopped, a faint look of confusion clouding his face as he peered at the tall figure carefully studying him. Snape said nothing, but met those green eyes, permitting them to continue their scrutiny. For a brief instant the eyes filled with something akin to wonder, and the boy seemed on the verge of saying something, when the confusion returned. Shaking his head slightly, the boy told him, "I almost forgot Hedwig, sir."

Yes, you almost forgot your owl, Harry, but what is it there that you almost remembered? I could sense it, just on the edge of your consciousness.

Instead he said, "Indeed, Mister Potter. You'd best get to the train, then. I wouldn't think you'd want to miss it and spend your summer here. With me?" he added with his signature sarcasm.

The boy gasped, his eyes wide. "Oh no, sir." He seemed to catch himself then. "No, I mean I know I can't stay for the summer, but really, if I could..."

Snape cut him off with a wave of his hand. "Spare me the idiocies, Potter. Next term will be soon enough for both of us. Now, best get on the train."

The boy gave him one last look of doubtful confusion, then turned and ran for the train.

So you'd rather stay here, Harry. I think I know why. He turned and watched as the doors were shut, and the Express started to pull out.

***

Snape finally had his revenge, his mind and emotions unfettered, when he was able to soundly trounce Dumbledore in two successive games of chess. The man had indeed brought out the special brandy, and they were well into the bottle when they set the board aside and rested back in their chairs. They were both reveling in that familiar infusion of well-being that brandy and their mutual companionship usually brought. They talked over the academic year, laughing and snorting over several memorable student predicaments, and were soon reduced to anecdotes that were not sparing of the dignity of several of the staff.

They had been silent for quite awhile when Dumbldore spoke, and Snape knew that it was inevitable that the evening should come down to this.

"So, what now, Severus?"

Snape knew exactly to what the old man was referring. He shrugged. "I sent a letter home with young Mister Malfoy, suggesting that Lucius and I get together over the summer. We have matters to discuss."

"What do you propose to tell him?" the Headmaster probed.

"I'm not sure. I'm certain that Draco has informed him of what transpired that night in the forbidden forest. He'll know about the unicorns. Lucius is not stupid. I'll play along and see what he knows, or suspects." He paused, uncomfortable. "If this is going to start up again, Albus, and we both know that it will, then I think it best if I appear to be in on it from the beginning, as unpleasant a prospect as that may be."

"I am sorry, Severus."

Snape shrugged again, then said matter-of-factly, "What must be must be. I'm not the only one who will be affected, or at risk. I'm committed, Albus. And will remain so."

They sat in silence for a while longer, then Dumbledore got up and went to his desk. Returning, he pulled his chair up close to his Potions Master. "I'm returning this, Severus, as promised. You expressed the desire to have it, and it's yours, after all," he said gently, taking one of Severus hands to lay the amulet and chain in its palm. "I noticed the two of you had a little confrontation of sorts, at the station today.' He added softly, "And in the Great Hall last evening?"

Snape smiled at him wanly. "You don't miss much, do you, Albus? Yes, the connection is severed. Although," he hesitated, "it appears that something residual remains. I sensed him studying me. Then today at the station, I could tell that he sensed it too." He looked down, fingering the flat amulet. "Not anything that will prove bothersome. Pehaps it will prove useful at some point."

The blue eyes were measuring. "Is it distressing you, Severus? This sudden change?"

Snape shook his head. "No, not distressing. Just...different. I've become so accustomed to throwing up the shields when the two of us are in close proximity, that now..." He threw up his hands. "Just a small matter of modifying my reflexes."

"And the boy?" the old man prodded. "You said he sensed something too?"

Snape considered, fingering his chin, then replied, "The hostility was absent, and he seemed perplexed by something, almost as if he were on the verge of recalling...a dream or a memory." He looked away. "Then it was gone."

The Headmaster patted him on the knee. "It's for the best then, Severus, considering what the future may hold for the both of you." Reaching into his robes, he withdrew the smaller amulet and held it out. "I want to entrust this to you. It's rightfully his, but I think you should keep it along with your own." He paused to look out over the top of his glasses. "Someday, when he is grown, you can give it to him, Severus, along with another gift that only you can give. When he is ready."

Snape did not need to inquire about this other gift. He had already promised it to the boy during his bedside vigil. Someday, Harry, I'll tell you all about Lily.

***

Snape strode silently through the dark and deserted corridors. The castle was almost tomb-like with the students gone, and Filch was no doubt closeted away with his cat and his flask. And although there was no longer any need to do so, the Potions Master felt a strange compulsion to take the direction that he now took. Away from his dungeons, he made his way down the stairway to the lower entrance of the Grid where he and the Headmaster had obliterated the door just several nights before.

The barrier had been restored to its usual state, and Snape stood in front of it for a few moments, recalling the swell of emotions that had finally crashed ashore here just four nights ago. Murmuring a soft Alohomora, he slipped into the room and closed the door behind him. Another murmured word lit the wall torches, then he stopped to take in the room. All evidence of what had transpired here had been removed, the damage repaired. Quirrell, or what remained of him, lay buried in an unmarked grave within the forbidden forest. How fitting, since the man was so fond of spending time there. The only reminder of the events of that fateful night stood just ten paces away, gleaming and reflecting the torchlight that played over it.

Snape realized in an instant why he had come here, and moved to stand one last time in front of the Mirror of Erised. He did not look into it at once. Instead, he closed his eyes, as he relaxed his shoulders and slowed his breathing. Ready at last, he opened his eyes.

He saw himself standing off to the side. Not the Severus he had seen in the mirror six months ago, the younger Severus of the Pensiève, enraptured with Lily. Now he saw himself as he was now. But strangely, this Severus did not look back at him, but had his attention focused on the group standing at the center of this tableau.

James and Lily Potter smiled out at him, a James and Lily as they no doubt would appear had they lived to this day. And in between and to the front of them stood the boy--their son--the same Harry he had watched get on the train. They each rested a hand on the boy's shoulder, and all three of them smiled out at him, smiles of contentment and acknowledgment. Severus within the mirror watched them still, a little sadly, but his gaze reflected his own satisfaction...and acceptance.

Snape did not know how long he had been standing there, the object of this benign scrutiny, when he glanced back to his mirror image. This Severus was now watching him, and when he saw that he had Snape's attention, gave him a slight smile and nod of affirmation.

When the Potions Master finally spoke, it was not to the trio before him, but to the Severus within the mirror. "It's as it should be, as it always should have been. Well done."

With one final look at the four of them, he turned away, and without hesitation made his way to the door, speaking the room into darkness as he went. The door secured, he disappeared down the corridor in a fluid swirl of dark robes and shadow.

Fin