The Importance of Being Sirius

4.

Severus:

One of my earliest childhood memories is how my mother and I came by the alias that we would live by for the rest of our lives.

We had arrived back in England, exhausted and without a single possession to our name, yet when we stumbled off the Knight bus and into a particularly tempestuous English night, I remember my mother laughing exultantly, her black hair blowing in the wind. She seemed to be savouring the storm around us; I watched her spread out her arms to embrace the tempest with the feeling of half admiration, half alarm which she always inspired in me.

The coldness and darkness repelled me, we had fled to England from Venice, and the change in climate was far from pleasant. But, young as I was, I realised we were lucky to be there at all. Despite my Mother's efforts to reassure me, I knew all too well what the people pursuing us were capable off. In Venice our hiding place had been betrayed, and as we fled desperately through the hotel where we had been staying, my mother and I had come face to face with three wizards, dressed alike, their faces obscured by masks and their wands drawn.

My Mother had pushed me roughly behind her without a word and pulled out her wand, and in the dual that followed I crouched shaking on the floor, ducking the curses ricocheting off the walls. I was terrified of course, but my Mother...well, I could have sworn that she enjoyed the desperation of our situation, as she faced our attackers with a brittle smile, I felt a twinge of pity for them. Involuntarily I shut my eyes.

Then there was a touch on my shoulder, an urgent whisper in my ear.

"Come on, Severus, follow me."

I opened my eyes and stared around me. Three bodies lay stretched on the floor. There was no blood. My Mother, perhaps out of consideration for me, perhaps merely to save time, had disposed of our enemies as cleanly as possible.

"Don't look at them, Severus, just follow me," she ordered, but I stood there for an instant, staring at the dead bodies with a sense of unreality. It was the first time I had ever seen a corpse so close before.

"Don't look at them," my Mother ordered me again, a note of irritation in her voice. She wore the terrible, exultant expression she always wore after killing. Death to me was just another weapon, a chore rather than a pleasure. But for my Mother it was something to be savoured. As she stood there in the gloom I could almost see the power radiating from her, irresistible and deadly. Fearfully I turned and followed her. Three hours, two portkeys and an uncomfortable journey in the Knight bus, and we were in a small English village, standing on a dark and rainy street.

Remembering all this, I stared around me at our scarcely visible surroundings, pulling my cloak tightly around me. As I studied the rain-pelted street, my attention lighted on a sign, faintly lit by the glow of a neighbouring street lamp.

"S...N...A...P...E..." I spelled out uncertainly.

"What is it?" my Mother asked, staring down at me through her dripping hair. For answer I pointed silently to the sign.

"That's the name of the village, Severus," she explained.

"It sounds cross," I remember saying gravely. My mother laughed, her mirth tainted by what I was too young to recognise as hysteria.

"Snape," she said when she was calm again, lingering over the word as if tasting it. "Yes, it sounds cross, my dear perceptive child. However, it does have a certain ring to it..." she hesitated. "How would you like it as a name?" she finally asked me. One thing I loved about my mother was that she always addressed me as if I was an equal, and treated my opinions as if they actually mattered.

"I like our old name," I said with stubborn logic. "Why do we have to change?"

"You know the men chasing us?"

I nodded sagely. The wizards dressed in dark robes, always one step behind us, as clever as they were deadly, I knew about their glinting green-black cloaks and frighteningly forgettable faces. They were after revenge, my Mother said. She would never tell me anything else. I shivered, suddenly aware of how damp I was.

"Well, you know they mustn't find us," my Mother continued. "And to make things more difficult for them, I think we'd better call ourselves something different from now on. "Snape" is as good a name as any. What do you think?"

I ran my new name through my mind: Severus Snape. It was nice and alliterative. And if it kept us from being discovered...Slowly I nodded my consent, and my mother smiled conspiratorially at me.

"I'll be Dr - no, Mrs Snape, then, and you can be my son Severus," she said. "We're the last in a long line of Snapes, if anyone asks. The Snape family. It has quite a nice ring to it."

Then she picked me up and put me on her shoulders, and we set off into the night.

Narcissa:

As Lord Voldemort removed his hood, I smothered a gasp, and without looking at him I knew that Lucius had bitten his tongue hard enough to draw blood. Lord Voldemort was not as he appeared during the height of his power, nor as he is now, in his newly resurrected form -

Dumbledore:

I don't think we want to go into that, Narcissa.

Narcissa:

Very well. For an intrepid leader, Albus, you can be remarkably squeamish at times.

What I remember most vividly was his eyes, the deep red colour of stained glass, and the strange paleness of his skin, which lay stretched over his skull as if almost too small for the brain that lay beneath. If you looked closely you could see the blue web of veins beneath the almost transparent skin. He had neither hair nor eyebrows. His face was composed and dead, the features still harmonious though no longer handsome.

That was one of the few times that I saw Lucius visibly frightened, and I was surprised at how his fear affected me. I felt a sudden urgency to protect, a fierce need to defend which I never felt for another living being until my son was born. I had told Lucius once that I would kill for him, and he had not laughed, because he knew I meant it. The shape of his face was more important to me than the lives of many; to preserve his beauty intact I would go to any lengths.

I apologise for this descent into sentiment, which normally I would be the first to despise, but it is necessary to understand this in order to explain the seriousness of my later actions, which even now astonish me somewhat. To return to Lord Voldemort, and the shock he had just inflicted on us both:

It was a test, of course. He wanted to see how we would react, how adept we would be in concealing our shock. It was like that with the Dark Lord. He would test you and test you again, to try your alertness, your loyalty. You shall have no other gods before me.

He stared at us for a moment, taking in our reactions. Then he seemed to make a decision.

"Do you fear me?" he asked.

"Yes my Lord," Lucius said, instinctively giving the right answer. The question struck me as rather banal, but naturally I said nothing.

"That is wise of you," he said. I jumped, wondering if he had sensed what I was thinking. He reached across the table, and brushed my face with one white, fine-boned hand. I endured it as best I could, struggling to control my breathing.

"I believe you will serve me well," he said at last. Then he asked, "Do you truly wish to join me?"

"We do, my Lord," I said eagerly.

"Then perhaps you will render me a small service," he said.

Sirius:

I was shocked, I admit it. Not that Snape could screw up a potion (he's always completely over-estimated any talent he has for them) but that my worst enemy was apparently stuck looking just like me. Sinister to say the least. I'd always wanted a twin brother, but this wasn't exactly what I'd had in mind.

I stared at Snape aghast for a few moments without speaking. What, after all, was there to say? Before I could get my head together, we were interrupted by the unwelcome sound of footsteps. I say footsteps, but when the grew closer I realised they were the sound of hooves.

A shape materialised out of the gloom, half horse, half human, wearing a detached and yet quizzical expression. I realised slowly that I was looking at a centaur. I'd never seen one before, they were reputed to rarely leave the safety of the forbidden forest. I recalled with a pang of unease how close we were to the edge of the school grounds.

"I heard shouting," the centaur explained gravely. His eyes, clear amber and vastly knowledgeable, went from me to Snape with a smile. "Twins, I see. Which one's the eldest?"

"We're not twins," I said shortly. I'd have yelled it, but centaurs can be dangerous if pushed so it didn't seem like a brilliant idea. I'd expected that my reply would have provoked more questions, but the centaur didn't seem particularly interested.

"Your friend seems hurt," he said simply. "I fear you may have hit him rather hard."

Snape was in rather a bad way, he looked even worse than usual. There was blood dripping down his chin, but he didn't seem to have the energy to wipe it off.

"Not him, the potion," he gasped. "Too much...boomslang, I think. Side effects. If I was healthy you'd be out cold by now, Black," he said, with an unpleasant look at me. Then he fainted. It was ridiculous, of course. Even if the bungled polyjuice hadn't been making him ill, I'd still have finished him off easily. Without a wand he wouldn't stand a chance against me.

"I will help you take him back to Hogwarts, if you wish," the centaur said.

"Thanks," I said gratefully. I didn't want Snape to die of poisoning, I wanted him to live and flourish and be expelled from Hogwarts and have to work behind the bar at the leaky cauldron. We hoisted Snape on the centaur's back (he didn't seem to keen on this, but who could blame him, really?) and prepared to set off through the now completely dark grounds.

"Let's be off, then," I said briskly.

"What about that?" the centaur queried, gesturing to something lying on the ground with his hoof. It was Snape's wand. I almost left it lying there, it would serve him right, but then I picked it up and put it in my pocket. I wanted to be there when they snapped it in half before his eyes.

"Aren't you going to lecture me on the evils of violence?" I asked to make conversation, as we moved together towards the grounds, an odd looking group, I imagine. The centaur shook his head.

"I am an astronomer, the affairs of earthly beings concern me but little. We centaurs observe, we do not interfere. Besides, from what I've seen, he probably had it coming," he replied gravely.

I agreed with him, and we walked on in silence. Finally, when we were in sight of the school, the centaur stopped by Hagrid's hut.

"I will leave you here," he said, "I am paying a visit to Hagrid this evening. You will have to carry him from here."

"Drag him, you mean," I said. But he'd gone before I could even thank him.

I stared down at Snape's body, reflecting inconsequentially that I looked really attractive when asleep, and wondered how on earth I was supposed to drag him all the way to the school. Puzzling over the difficulty, I drew out my wand - Snape's wand, actually, although I didn't realise - and wondered if I could remember a levitating spell. I never had to deal with this problem, however, because at that moment I was interrupted by a distinctly unwelcome shout:

"Snape, what the hell do you think you're doing?" It was Lucius Malfoy, with Narcissa strolling beside him. Inside I quailed with fear. The Slytherins are famous for their reprisals, and I didn't think that concussing their protégé something that was going to find favour with Lucius and Narcissa. As they moved rapidly towards me, Lucius already reaching for his wand, I began to panic.

"You've knocked him out!" Lucius exclaimed, bending over Snape's prone form. "Nice one, Snape, they'll expel you for this!"

"What happened?" Narcissa demanded. "Why haven't you changed back?"

I opened my mouth to explain that I was Sirius, that I'd beaten Snape up rather than the other way round, and then shut it again. Besides, Narcissa didn't give me a chance to reply, she was already pulling at my wrist.

"Explain later," she said hurriedly, "we've got to get out of here before we're discovered. Knocking people out is frowned upon by school rules, even if it's in self defence."

I wondered how she knew thisDazedly I did as she said, trailing after Malfoy and her as we hurried towards the school. And that was how one of the most disturbing experiences of my life began.

Severus:

Noticed how they automatically assumed that it was me who'd beaten you up, rather than the other way round? As I commented at the time, Black, I could have finished you off in five minutes if I hadn't been suffering from a severe case of boomslang poisoning.

The next thing I knew after passing out in the grounds was a feeling of intense nausea, coupled by a distinct sense of unease. I was bruised and battered, my head throbbing and every breath was painful. I was lying in bed, I realised dimly, but there was something horribly wrong. The colour scheme for a start, which was depressingly cheery. There was too much light, and I noticed with a start of annoyance that people were talking with raised voices only a few metres away. I realised with horror that I was not in my own room, but in a dormitory. This barbarity was a far cry from Slytherin, where each student has a private room from their first year. (Personally I have no time for dormitories at all, I keep requesting that Dumbledore abolish them but he continues to do nothing about it) -

Dumbledore:

We can't afford it, Severus. Besides, only the Slytherins seem to feel the need for such great privacy - or should I say secrecy?

Severus:

That's right, run us down. We're used to it. I've heard your anti-Slytherin propaganda, Albus, and from someone who's (ostensibly) open minded, it sounds remarkably prejudiced. And the more I hear it, the more it sounds like jealousy. Which house has won the house cup more times than any other? Slytherin. Which house has produced almost all of today's leading politicians, aurors and strategists? Slytherin. Which house is the house of choice for virtually all of the most prestigious and gifted magical families? Slytherin.

Narcissa:

This is all very true, Severus, but please hurry up. I have some background to fit into this chapter.

Severus:

My apologies. Anyway, as I said, I was in a dormitory.

The significance of this streamed gradually into my consciousness. I was in a dormitory. Therefore I was not in Slytherin house. Therefore I was either in the hospital wing, or...

"He's awake!"

Three faces bent over me, faces which despite their looks of concern were horribly familiar. Potter, Lupin and Pettigrew. Under the shock of this realisation I am afraid my response may have been a little unrestrained.

"Stop screaming, Sirius, it's us!" said one of them (I couldn't tell which, they had merged into a faceless blur). I wondered dazedly if I had gone insane, and what the hell was happening to me.

"What...?" I began. I could say nothing more.

"You were attacked," someone explained. "Someone beat you up and took your wand."

"Who...?" I began, feeling slightly stronger.

"We don't know who it was," replied a voice I recognised as Potter's.

"I meant who am I, you idiot," I snapped, feeling my strength return somewhat. In my disorientation and confusion, the familiarity of being exasperated by Potter's dimness was something of a comfort.

"You're Sirius," Pettigrew said bewilderedly. "Don't you remember?"

At that, recollections of everything that had occurred came back to me, and I slumped back in bed with a feeling of unutterable despair.

Narcissa:

We sat Black - or Snape, as we thought - down in a chair in Lucius' bedroom, and began to interrogate him. If I hadn't had other things on my mind, I certainly would have realised that there was something odd about Severus (apart from being stuck looking like Black, I mean). He sat in his chair looking as if he was going to collapse any second.

My hands itched to curse the little maggot into atoms, but I checked my anger for the time being. We needed to know exactly what had happened. If Snape got found out there would be trouble for Lucius and me as well. And this was not the time for drawing attention to ourselves.

"So what actually happened?" Lucius asked, beginning the questioning. "I wouldn't interfere, but you've almost got yourself suspended and caused a huge amount of trouble for the entire house, so I think you owe us an explanation."

"Um, it was Black," Black replied.

"We know it was Black," Lucius said irritably, "we all saw him lying there out cold. What we want to know is: A) what happened and B) why you haven't changed back."

"And C) how you had the gall to carry on making the potion behind our backs," I added grimly. I was pleased to see Severus - Black - flinch away from me.

"It was...Black," he said again.

"Don't, Narcissa, we need him to talk," Lucius said to me quickly. I replaced my wand with shaking fingers. I can remember few occasions when I have been angrier.

"He found out," Black explained, "I had to hit him. Then I realised the potion hadn't worn off. It was the, um, boomslang, I think."

"Too much or too little?" Lucius demanded.

"I don't know."

I sat down on Lucius' bed with a sigh.

"You're going to have to spend a week hiding in your room," I told him, "you've probably added too much boomslang and messed up the potion, the effects will take a while to wear off. You'll probably also be sick with boomslang poisoning, but I can't say I feel much sympathy for you."

"So in a week I'll turn back?" he asked. He sounded more concerned than relieved, I thought absently, but at the time the significance of this didn't really register.

Sirius:

As soon as it was possible, I left Lucius and Narcissa and made my way (after getting lost several times) to Snape's room. And let me just say here that if Snape's bedroom was anything to go by, Slytherin's reputation for elegance and neatness is entirely undeserved. It was even messier than our dormitory in Gryffindor, and that's saying something.

If I'd been feeling myself, I'd probably have trashed the place, but I was too preoccupied. I was worried, I can tell you. I didn't know what Snape was doing, and I didn't have a clue how I was going to escape back to Gryffindor with Lucius and Narcissa watching my every move. And if by the end of the week I hadn't changed back into Snape, there was going to be trouble.

Dumbledore:

Why didn't you just tell them who you really were?

Sirius:

Well I would have, but strangely enough I didn't want to die.

Dumbledore:

Come now, isn't that taking things a little far? This is a very well ordered school. Students don't just kill each other.

Narcissa:

Not very often, anyway.

He's right though. If we'd known who he was, the chances of his getting out of Slytherin unscathed would have been very small. He'd have survived, but in such a way that he'd wish that he hadn't.

Sirius:

So you can appreciate the seriousness of my situation.

Snape:

My heart bleeds for you.

Sirius:

It'll be your nose that's bleeding if you don't shut up.

Narcissa:

Hurry up, I still have some more information to fit into this chapter.

Sirius:

Well tough luck. You've been ranting on about Voldemort for ages, you'll just have to wait your turn, I haven't had half as much space as you've had.

Dumbledore:

Actually you've had more space, Sirius, Narcissa's only had 916 words so far.

Sirius:

How many have I had?

Dumbledore:

1043.

Sirius:

Blimy, you really do know everything.

Narcissa:

I had been anticipating that Voldemort would ask us to prove our loyalty. It's traditional, after all, and no one would be stupid enough to take such an important allegiance on trust. However I had not expected him to tell us a story. He took a look at Lucius' and my tense, expectant faces as we waited to learn what his request was, took a sip of coffee and said in a soft voice:

"Perhaps first you will allow me to relate some history to you."

"It would be an honour," I replied. Lucius nodded.

"In that case, I will start at the beginning.

You know, of course, that I was educated at Hogwarts?"

At this point Lucius and I nodded, although I had had no knowledge of this fact until that time.

"Well insufficient as that education was, I fortunately had access to a large number of books, and I constantly came upon one name in my reading that roused my curiosity: Grindelwald. You have heard of him, no doubt. A great wizard in many ways, although doomed to failure. He met his defeat at the hands of Dumbledore whilst I was still at school. But although he was vanquished he was not killed. I hope I'm not boring you?"

"On the contrary," Lucius said, "it's all fascinating."

"Well, when I finished school I made it my business to seek this wizard out. I had some vague idea of learning from him, perhaps emulating some of his methods. But when I finally found him (and it was no easy task, I assure you) he became a great deal more to me. He became my mentor, more of a father to me than my blood father had ever been, and he taught me virtually everything I knew. Young and ignorant as I was, I inspired him, I believe, and as time progressed some of his old supporters began to return to him. Our influence grew, we prepared for a second attack, a coup that would place us in control of the entire wizarding world. We seemed poised on the brink of victory, when something unexpected occurred: we were betrayed."

"By whom?" I asked, as the dark lord paused to refresh himself with more coffee.

"By one of Grindelwald's most trusted associates," Voldemort replied. "A woman by the name of Rebecca Lethe. A woman of great power, they said. I met her several times, enough to realise how formidable an adversary she could be. There are intelligent individuals, and there are those with great magical power, but Rebecca possessed both. I idolised her, I believe, she was a beautiful woman after all, and I was very young. But that is beside the point. Suffice it to say, Rebecca, whom everyone had believed incorruptible, betrayed us all.

"We were surrounded, trapped, and I was the only one who escaped. Grindelwald and all my other friends were killed. Rebecca had destroyed us as thoroughly as she did everything she put her mind to."

"Why?" Lucius demanded. This question had been running through my mind also. Voldemort smiled bitterly.

"She betrayed us in order to gain her own freedom," he said. "She wanted to get out, she told us, she wanted to get married, live a normal life. She was deceiving herself, of course, but that scarcely mattered. She left, and I heard nothing of her for many years. Naturally I searched for her, but it was tracing her proved impossible. Then, a few months ago, I discovered that she had had a son."

"Who?" Lucius said. I could have saved him the trouble of asking, because before Voldemort spoke I knew instinctively what he was going to say.

"A first year," he replied, "by the name of Severus Snape."