Journey to Passion

Chapter Seventeen - Repentance and Sorrow

To walk into the cold, dark Potions classroom the morning after Christmas and find Professor Severus Snape in the far corner looming over a hot cauldron certainly wasn't anything unusual. Sure enough, at nine thirty on December twenty-sixth, there he was quietly hovering over a particularly large cauldron concocting another potion he'd need for the coming school term. Albus Dumbledore stood silently in the doorway watching the Potions Master for a moment before proceeding to the back of the classroom.

"Severus," he plainly acknowledged.

"Headmaster," he replied in a mere whisper. The tall, black haired, black robed professor didn't turn his head or even fidget. His white knuckled hands clasped the edge of the counter and his head was slung down over his chest. The reflection of the flickering blue firelight beneath the cauldron waved in his empty eyes. His vacant expression certainly hadn't gone unnoticed by the elderly Headmaster.

Dumbledore cautiously set a hand down on the counter beside Snape's and waited one moment before speaking. He raised a finger to his temple and delicately began rubbing. "As I understand, your evening with my grandniece ended in an unpleasant manner."

Snape gripped the sides of the counter and sighed irritably as he tucked his chin tight against his chest. "Headmaster, with all due respect, I am not going to discuss anything about last night with you." Snape turned his back to the Headmaster in discomfort and lifted his head up. He began lifting a long, narrow tube from its rack and measured the perfect amount of purple fluid called Belua Sanguis. "I have no doubts that Jessica has already told you enough."

Dumbledore gently nodded his head. "Jessica hasn't been able to speak to me at all today," he said. "I've just come from her quarters. Poppy is there with her now."

The Headmaster watched the despondent professor and hoped that he'd at least care enough to inquire why the school nurse would need to be with Jessica in her quarters. Snape only kept himself at an angle where Dumbledore wouldn't be able to look him in the eye. His raven black hair hung lifelessly in his face to make his miserable expression even less visible.

"Severus, I've come to ask for your help," Dumbledore said after a long moment of silence. "Will you come back with me to her quarters?"

Dumbledore saw the back of his head shake. "No," Severus answered. "I have no wish to speak to her again."

"Severus," Dumbledore called out firmly. The seriousness in his voice was enough to drive a tiny shock of fear and intimidation into the Potions Master. "I'm sorry about whatever happened or didn't happen last night, I truly am. But if you're unwilling to help her, none of us may be able to speak to her again. You may be the only one capable of saving her."

Snape stood up to his full height and abruptly looked right into the eyes of the Headmaster. His head tilted gently to the side and his eyes narrowed into a look of sheer apprehension. "What has happened to her?" he demanded.

Dumbledore nodded once in vast approval and held a hand out towards the Potions Master. "That's more like it, now come with me."

Snape's quick and eager strides nearly left the Headmaster behind in the dust. He rushed up to Jessica's chambers and was shocked to see Madam Pomfrey and Professor McGonagall on either side of Jessica's bed. He stood at the doorway staring in disbelief at Jessica's motionless body. His feet felt as if they'd been frozen to the floor and his heart felt as if it had sunk into the pit of his stomach.

McGonagall spared Snape a look of sympathy and clutched her hands against her chest. Dumbledore came up behind him and she looked back and forth at each of them. "Oh Albus," she cried. "What could have done this to her?"

"Dark Magic, Minerva," Dumbledore said. "Dark Magic."

Finally able to move his legs again, Snape approached Jessica's bed and stood at the foot of the king sized four-poster. Jessica was lying on her back in the centre of the bed. Still dressed in her pink evening gown beneath her robe, Snape could see the petrified look in her open eyes. Her knees we bent up behind her in what looked like a very uncomfortable position. She lay motionless, her arms raised slightly above her head and her fingers curled naturally into her palms.

"Is she...?" Snape couldn't quite bring himself to finish the sentence. Jessica looked so... lifeless.

"No, she's still alive," Dumbledore assured. "She's been cursed. Suspended in a slumber far beyond the Draught of Living Dead."

"Her eyes are open," Snape pointed out, although everyone had already noticed. "No potion or poison to my knowledge will do this."

"She was supposed to meet me in the Hospital Wing at nine o'clock," Madam Pomfrey told Snape. He glanced at her, his mouth open in awe and then looked back at Jessica. "It was nearly twenty minutes past when I found her like this."

Dumbledore came up behind Snape again. His warm, encouraging hand rested on Snape's shoulder. "I know how much of a shock this is to you," he said. "It was a terrible shock for all of us."

"Please Headmaster," Snape cut in before Dumbledore could humiliate him in front of the witches.

"My apologies Severus," Dumbledore said and took his hand away. He took a couple of steps back and then cupped his hands before him. "We've done all we can. You were one of the last to speak with her last night, is there something you can tell us that will perhaps help revive her?"

"One of the last?" Snape promptly repeated. He turned sharply towards the Headmaster and eagerly awaited another name. "Who else had spoken to her?" he asked impatiently.

Dumbledore raised his hands in front of him in a manner of peace. "I caught a student out of bed last night," was all he told the Potions Master. "He said he'd spoken to Jessica before she'd gone to her chambers."

"Who?" Snape demanded again.

"That's not important at this time," Dumbledore assured. "Right now our main concern should be Jessica. Unless we find the one responsible for this, you may be our only hope. If there's anything you can tell us-"

"Very well," Snape interrupted. "I will speak to you in the privacy of your office later. Right now I wish to be left alone with Jessica."

Dumbledore nodded respectfully. "As you wish," he said and motioned with his hands for the women to stand. Both Madam Pomfrey and Professor McGonagall stood and began walking towards the bedroom door. Dumbledore followed after them and bared a tiny nod to the Potions Master before closing the door.

Snape sat down on the edge of the bed. He cautiously put a hand to Jessica's forehead and began brushing her hair back. After a few strokes across her head, Snape gently ran his fingers over her lids and closed her eyes for her. She looked much more at peace that way.

The locket she wore around her neck hadn't gone unnoticed. Snape picked the piece of jewellery up into his hand and looked closely at it. He remembered how happy she was to receive it. Her mother's locket brought her comfort.

"Your mother would be very happy to see this belong around your neck," he said aloud. "There isn't another place in the world she would rather see it."

He gradually reached around her body and straightened her legs. Then after propping up some pillows, Snape tucked Jessica comfortably under her blankets and crossed her arms over her waist. He sat next to her all morning watching her, whispering to her, and conjuring up a plan that might bring her out of this cursed spell. It angered him knowing that this particular curse was out of his hands.

That afternoon Snape found his way up to Dumbledore's office. Leaving out the intimate details of their engagement, he willingly told the Headmaster what had happened to Jessica and all that she'd told him about her encounter with Lucius Malfoy.

"Perhaps you suppose Malfoy is behind this, do you Headmaster?" Snape questioned.

Dumbledore immediately began shaking his head. He lifted a small cup of tea to his lips and took a small sip of his steamy beverage. "No, I don't. I've known all along that Lucius knew about Voldemort's intentions for Jessica and her chosen mate. Such information is old news to a small number of wizards." Dumbledore took another sip of tea and a bite of his sugar cookie.

"And who might this 'chosen one' be?" Snape asked grudgingly.

Dumbledore shook his head. "I cannot be certain. In fact, I can't even guarantee that one particular man exists. Voldemort has no need for another to extract her abilities. He could very well do it himself by simply possessing any man he pleases."

"Headmaster," Snape began uncomfortably, "perhaps Voldemort is this chosen one. I do not see why he would give any other man the opportunity to take control of her abilities. Magical gifts like hers, he will most certainly use for himself."

Dumbledore set his tea aside and looked Snape right in the eye. "Severus, I'm certain Voldemort is not the man you're thinking of simply because..." his hand shook faintly as he debated whether or not Snape was ready to hear the truth.

"Because why?" Snape egged on.

"Because," Dumbledore began again, "it was Voldemort who impregnated Espiranza Van Eden. Jessica is his daughter."

* * *

Until the start of the new term Snape spent every last minute he could either on Jessica's bedside, or alone in the depths of his domain. He'd tear through book after book looking for anything that could help revive Jessica. After hours he'd retire to the library, explore every shelf of the Restricted Section looking for something new. There had to be something he could do! It was just a matter of finding out what.

Days went by where he could think of nothing but Jessica and the way he had treated her on Christmas Day. He took his anger and frustration out on the students, even docking House points from his own students, the Slytherins. Even the other professors were amazed at his sudden change in behaviour. He spent practically every mealtime alone in his quarters and only attended the Gryffindor Quidditch matches.

The only ones who started seeing more of the Potions Master rather than less of him were Professor Quirrell and Harry Potter. It seemed that every time Snape turned around a corner, he'd see Harry alone or with his brat friends.

The frequent rendezvous with Quirrell on the other hand were rather intentional. Snape kept a good eye on him and watched closely for anything suspicious. Although he had nothing to prove it with, Quirrell was Snape's prime suspect. He had been plotting to get his hands on the Philosopher's Stone, so he may just as well have devised a plot against Jessica. Perhaps he even had intentions to personally hand her over to the Death Eaters.

But why?

It didn't make any sense.

There were some nights where Snape found himself wanting to be at Jessica's side rather than hovering over books and counter-spells. Perhaps the very answer he needed was right in front of him...

Her room was dark. Snape lit enough candles so that he could see her. The quilts were pulled up to her breasts and her arms lay folded over her body. Her breath was so shallow Snape could not see her chest rise and fall beneath the covers. He put a hand to her cheek and tilted her head towards him.

He looked deep into her eyes and wondered what she'd have to say to him now if she could sense the way he felt. "I suppose you think I am to blame for this," he started off. "Well, you maybe right. You told me that something like this would happen. You should have told me a lot sooner than you did, Jessica. Perhaps then, this would not have happened. You would be wide-awake, maybe even looking at me right now.

"We could have stopped this from happening, you know that. But instead you let me believe that you wanted me just as badly as I wanted you. Now look at what you have done. How can I forgive you for this, Jessica? How? You have not changed since the day we met. You are still that naïve girl you have always been, thinking that you always know what is best. This time... this time you were wrong.

"I will not say that I am sorry for what has happened to you, I simply will not do it. I am not sorry because you should have known better to tell me before we..." Snape stopped for a moment. He looked down at the gentle curves beneath her sheets and ran his hand down along the side of her body. His fist clutched the blankets over thigh and he squeezed his eyes shut for one brief moment. "It no longer matters," he finished. "I certainly have no pity for you, but that does not mean I am not going to try my damnedest to find out what has happened to you. You'll come back and I will be right here waiting for you. And don't think for one moment that I won't be all up in arms about this when you do. I am going to sit you down and you will listen to every damned word I have to say to you, my darling.

"I had to sit and listen to another one of your uncle's speeches the other day. He told me about your father." His eyes turned down again and he rubbed the soft material of the top quilt between his fingers. "Voldemort," he whispered softly. "I should have known. The daughter of a Death Eater. Huh. The daughter of the Dark Lord. You knew it all along, didn't you? Perhaps you were not willing to admit it, but I am sure that somewhere in the back of your mind you always knew it to be true. That is why you never wanted to hear it, isn't it? You were so determined to deny it; you couldn't handle hearing the truth because you dread it so much. But you know it now, you must. And if you don't, you can be sure that I will make it very clear to you who you are when we speak again. Fear of his name only gives him strength. You have got to stand up for who you are and believe that you are better than he is. The Headmaster told me that a long time ago. It is far from easy, I can tell you that much. It would be far easier to just give up and give in. But you are not going to give up Jessica. I haven't given up and neither will you. You have got to be strong. I know you can fight whatever has done this to you."

Snape slowly reached his hands up and gripped Jessica at the shoulders. He looked right through her closed eyelids and then kissed her forehead.

"You can do it Jessica," he whispered and kissed her once more. "Come back to me. Please."