Summoned

Chapter 19: Nightmares

Additional Author's note: This chapter contains a scene from Chapter Eight of Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban, retold from Severus Snape's point of view.

"Severus, you cannot pretend this isn't happening!"

"Then flee! Flee - I will make your excuses. I, however, am remaining at Hogwarts."

Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire

July 25, 1995, evening

Severus kept his hood up and his head down when he arrived at Grimmauld Place. Molly greeted him at the door with her usual smile, and he glanced beyond her and saw Lupin and Black standing just outside the meeting room, talking.

"Feeling better, Professor Snape?" Molly asked as he swept past her.

"Yes." He walked down the hallway, glanced passingly at Kingsley, who had just walked out of the kitchen, and glowered at everyone else at the table in the meeting room. Tonks and Arthur were discussing Ministry business, and Alastor was sitting by himself against the far wall, halfway down the length of the table. He looked at Severus as he walked in, but turned away quickly. Dumbledore had not yet arrived. But, surprisingly, Minerva McGonagall was there. Then, as he considered the topic of tonight's meeting, he understood why: as Head of Gryffindor House, she would have an opinion on the recruitment of students this term.

"Severus!" she greeted him pleasantly, and offered him the seat next to hers. But as she was on the far side of the table, looking out, and he preferred his seat near the door, so that he could leave quickly, he merely nodded at her and took the seat next to Tonks.

"Wotcher, Professor," she said, breaking off her conversation with Arthur, who had summoned his quill and parchment.

"Tonks." He looked around and saw that nearly everyone in the room was shooting him quick, furtive glances.

He looked around for Professors Flitwick of Ravenclaw and Sprout of Hufflepuff. He glanced quickly at McGonagall and, apparently reading his mind, she said, "They haven't actually joined the Order. And I think they - had plans this evening." The way she said that created an image in his mind he decided not to contemplate.

"Everyone, we're ready to start," Arthur called, beckoning to Lupin and Black to join them.

"Where's Dumbledore?" Kingsley asked the room at large.

"He should be here," Minerva said. "I thought he left before I did."

As if he'd heard himself spoken of, Dumbledore came down the hallway from the front door, looking a little winded. He glanced at Severus without expression, then took his usual chair.

As everyone assumed their more-or-less usual seats, Arthur called the meeting to order. The preliminaries taken care of, he turned to Dumbledore to begin the new business.

"As we all know," he began, not including Severus in his glance around the room, "we've got a lot of opinions right now about whether we should allow recruiting for the Order within the student body at Hogwarts." He paused, his gaze lingering a bit longer both Molly Weasley and Sirius, who, Snape presumed, represented the two camps. "We're here to discuss whether or not to allow recruiting this term."

"The Order was formed from students at Hogwarts," Black pointed out. "We were all fresh from our student days there."

"And we had no real choice, did we?" Lupin asked. "We had to act. Voldemort was growing stronger by the day!"

"Yes, he was. Especially since he had no trouble recruiting Death Eaters from the ranks of the Slytherins," Black added, glowering openly at Severus, whose face he could not see. Snape hoped that was irritating him.

"Yes, that is quite true," Severus answered easily. At least, tonight, he was taking on a topic he was well-prepared to defend. "And it should come as no surprise that he is doing so again."

Though, apparently, that did come as a surprise, for there were several small gasps around the table.

"Actively?" Molly asked.

He bit off a sarcastic response and said simply, "Yes." He took a long breath and addressed Dumbledore. "I can imagine that there are some here who wish to protect the students from being dragged into this conflict," he started. "And I assume that many others wish the students to be able to defend themselves if necessary. The Dark Lord does not care if a student has passed his O.W.L.s, or has any N.E.W.T-level classes. He is not interested in whether a student is good at Quidditch or excels in Ancient Runes. He is interested only in students he can manipulate and who have at least some moderate magical skills upon which he can draw."

"And we have discussed that," Dumbledore began, but since Black had dragged his House into this discussion already, Severus had no intention of backing off until he'd had his say.

"Yes, I am sure you have. And I am also sure that you are reluctant to allow the students to involve themselves in the work of the Order. Fine," he added, deciding to lower his hood so that the full weight of his words and expression would sink in. "You may remain gullible and foolish, while the Dark Lord works his spells on the young minds who are looking for quick glory and a sense of belonging. You can let the Dark Lord's faithful servants infect the minds of their own children, so that they, in turn, will bring recruits to the Dark Lord."

"Quick glory, Snape?" Black snapped, leaning forward. "A sense of belonging? Speaking from personal experience, are you?"

Oh, he had so hoped Black would pounce on that! He leaned in, just as Black was doing and said, "Yes, I am. Take a good look at all your fellow students who so easily slithered into the Dark Lord's service," he hissed. "How many of them were outcasts, Black? How many were shunned? How many were considered freaks and oddballs?" He saw Black's eyes flicker away and felt quite satisfied. He looked back at Dumbledore.

"The Dark Lord will be finding like-minded souls at Hogwarts, Headmaster. If you do not have members of the Order working against that, you will lose a lot of students. - Some of whom might still be saved."

He saw Dumbledore cringe.

"But they're just children!" Molly protested, her voice filled with the anguish he would expect from any decent mother. He glanced at her, saw her wince when she looked at his face, and then turned away.

"Believe it or not," Black said, rocking back in his chair, "I agree with Snape. We need to be recruiting at Hogwarts this term. Anyone who's of age should be allowed to join."

"They're not ready to fight!" Tonks protested. "They haven't been trained to defend themselves or to recognize -"

"And they won't be this year, either," Dumbledore interrupted. He looked at Kingsley. "I'm sure the Ministry is taking over the D.A.D.A. class with the express intention of eliminating all mention of any threat by Voldemort."

The Mark burned at the mention of the name, but Severus kept his face impassive. "Potter has already faced the Dark Lord three times," he said, his voice low and forceful. "He has survived only through a combination of stupid luck and the help of his more talented friends. On two of those three occasions he found himself in that situation because he was arrogant enough to believe he alone knew what needed to be done!"

"Which just underscores the fact that the students are vulnerable to You-Know-Who, even - especially - at Hogwarts! They need to be able to fend off any - recruitment efforts by the Dark side," Black finished. He glanced at Severus. "Or would that interfere with the career guidance you plan to provide for your House?"

He managed a tight smile but Lupin cut in with a sharp, "Sirius, stop it!"

He avoided Lupin's gaze and turned, instead, to Dumbledore. "Mark my words, Headmaster," he said. "If you do not provide a strong presence of the Order at Hogwarts this term, Potter and his friends will undoubtedly organize their own form of resistance, without guidance."

"I agree with Professor Snape," Arthur said, carefully not looking at his wife.

"And speaking of organized resistance," Snape continued, "you should know that at each of the meetings I have attended here, the residents of the second floor have been eavesdropping, quite effectively."

"What?"

"How?"

"You mean Ron and Hermione?"

"Ginny?"

"When?"

"Are you sure?"

Only Dumbledore and Moody decided not to sound astonished.

"Apparently," he said, turning to the Weasleys, "the twins have devised a very clever means of listening in. - Might I suggest, that for the security and safety of the Order and its members, the door to this room be charmed in some fashion to prevent - information leaks?"

A mumbled discussion - and Molly's "Oh, I'll be havin' quite a little talk with those two tonight, I will!" - followed and then Dumbledore held up his hand and brought the conversation to a close.

"I am loathe to take a vote right now regarding the active recruitment of students this term. I think, however, that we are agreed that those students who are of legal age should be permitted to join if they desire?"

There were muttered agreements, and a few silent head nods.

"Alright. Well..." Arthur closed the meeting and everyone began moving out of the room.

"Lupin," Severus began, pulling his hood back up and preparing to leave, "a moment?"

Looking as if he'd rather turn immediately into a werewolf, Lupin made his way across the room. "Severus."

"When you return to the castle, would you stop by my office? I would like a word with you."

"I'm not planning on returning."

"Please. Do."

"Look," he said, lowering his voice and glancing furtively over his shoulder, "I've apologized, and I meant it. I don't think you need to -"

"Remus?" Black sidled up next to Lupin with a dark glower. "Snape," he said, then turned to his friend. "Everything okay?"

"Oh, back off, Black!" Severus snapped. "I'm not recruiting him for the Dark side!"

"I was just asking Severus about - about the Wolfsbane Potion."

Black's eyes narrowed suspiciously and he glanced at the hooded Potions Master. "Why ask him? Why not ask whoever's making it for you these days?"

Severus waited, his eyes trained on Lupin: well, he'd at least kept that secret from Black.

"Severus has some ingredients that were difficult to get." He looked at Snape. "I'll pick them up later," he said. "Tonight?"

Snape nodded curtly and left the room. Minerva seemed to be trying to head for him through the room, but Tonks had caught her attention and was asking her questions. Molly had disappeared - irritably - into the kitchen. Arthur and Dumbledore were talking quietly in one corner, and Moody - Moody was staring at him from across the room, drinking from his little store of - whatever.

He left, toyed with the idea of simply flying all the way back to Hogwarts from here; then he realized he couldn't take that much of a chance. He wasn't anywhere near as strong as he would like to be, though he was certainly vastly better than he'd been two days ago.

And he didn't want to miss Lupin, who might show up sooner than it would take to fly home.

He stood for just a couple seconds on the sidewalk outside the townhouse, and heard the dull sounds of conversation and occasional laughter from within. Then he turned his back on them all and Disapparated.

* * * July 25, 1995, night

When Remus arrived at Severus' rooms two hours later, the Potions master looked to be just finishing decanting several jars of the Blood-Replenishing Potion, probably for the hospital wing. One cauldron was being cleaned and the other was already empty and ready for another brew.

He let Remus in without a word, turning from the werewolf almost instantly.

"You're looking better," he volunteered, his voice pitched just a bit high with anxiety. The Potions master ignored his statement and wandered over to his desk.

"I - wanted to -" He stopped and Lupin waited.

Snape stood behind the desk as if it were some kind of shield, and planted his palms on the wooden surface and started again. "I asked you to come - because I -" Again, he faltered and stopped. He looked around at his office and then said rapidly, "If you'd like a fire, feel free to start one. I am used to the cold, but most - non-Slytherins aren't."

Taken aback, and not wanting to seem too surprised, Remus nodded and pulled his wand. "Thanks, I will."

The fire roaring, he turned back and waited. Again, Severus looked acutely uncomfortable, and he couldn't meet Lupin's eyes. "What I wanted - I've never - I'm not sure how..."

His inability to complete a sentence was quickly moving from awkward to absurd, and Remus was afraid that if it continued much longer he was going to begin laughing, and there was no possibility that that would make the situation better.

Severus sighed and closed his still-swollen and bruised eyes. "I -" he took a long breath, "acceptyourapology."

He said it so fast and so quietly that it took a minute for Lupin's brain to register what had just happened.

And all he could manage for this most amazing moment, was a fairly stupid sounding, "Oh. - Well, good. Thank you."

Severus looked at him, his glower once more on his face. "I - It occurs to me that - I should have informed you of the - compulsive effects of the Draught - when you first asked about Moody. I cannot blame you entirely for what happened."

Remus gnawed on his lower lip to keep the grin from spreading: having gone as far as he could, Severus was now backing away from actual forgiveness, just to be safe.

"I'm - I'm glad, Severus. And - I am sorry."

Snape nodded, then looked away and pulled his hood over his face. "Wine?" he asked, his expression now safely concealed.

Hoping to cover his shock, Lupin nodded silently. Words, at that moment, failed him utterly.

Severus flicked his wand over his desk, but nothing happened. He flicked it again, irritably. Still nothing. Sighing, he went to the fireplace, added a small handful of Floo powder and said, "Dobby. Are you there?"

A moment later, the face of the freed house-elf who worked now in the Hogwarts kitchens appeared in the flame.

"Oh, Master Severus, sir? How can Dobby serve you, sir?"

"Wine," he said. "Two goblets, please. And a flagon."

"Oh, yes, Master Severus, right away." In the flame, he clicked his fingers and the goblets and flagon appeared in the hearth.

"Thank you, Dobby," Severus said, and levitated the items to his desk. He poured two goblets, handed one to the still-standing Lupin, and then gestured him to a chair.

For the next several minutes, Remus silently watched Severus down a little more than half his gobletful of wine. The man was wrapped in his cloak, his entire body, save his right hand holding his goblet, shrouded in black.

"Swelling going down?"

Snape started and then nodded.

"Good." Lupin took another sip of his drink, wondering what Severus was expecting at this point. "I think you made your point very well at the meeting."

He looked up and simply nodded. Then he drank what was in his goblet. And refilled it.

He watched the Potions master for several more long, silent minutes, and then, perhaps from the heady effects of the wine, he asked, "How did you know about - my family having to move?"

It had bothered him. Almost everything Severus had said in the Shack had bothered him, but that he seemed to know so many facts that Remus had never shared with anyone - or had shared only with James and Sirius - was eating at him.

Severus looked up, the hood fallen back enough for him to meet the werewolf's eyes evenly. "Most wizards and witches aren't familiar with the differences between a werewolf and a regular wolf. Unless they have direct experience." He sipped his wine. "In most cases, therefore, no one knows to take precautions when the moon is full. And as a result, there are often injuries that occur during the first transformation. After that, of course, the family is forced to relocate. Frequently, the same night." He tilted his head and raised one eyebrow. "I take it your family was not prepared."

"My father was," Remus said quietly, somewhat stunned by the amount of thought Snape had put into this. "My mother - she pretended it couldn't possibly be real." He stopped and took a drink of the wine. "Fenrir bit me because - my father made him angry. - You know he never told me what it was about. Anyhow, he knew I was infected, but my mother..." He didn't bother to finish. The memories of their arguments, the terrible reality that proved his father right and his mother wrong, and the strain in their relationship that was never healed, were all still painful to recall.

"You bit someone?" Severus asked quietly.

And though this was very much not something Remus wanted to discuss, he felt he owed this to Severus. "I had a friend over. He was going to spend the night. And then - the moon came out." He choked and took a large drink from his goblet and looked into the fire.

Severus didn't break the silence: he just waited. It was several minutes before Remus decided what to say next, given that Severus had already, apparently, divined the truth. "I never heard of him - as a werewolf," he confessed. "I - assume he died."

Snape moved to refill his goblet, offered more wine to Remus, then sat back in his chair, huddled once more within his dark robes, his hood shadowing his face completely again. "In the first year after someone is bitten, especially a child, there is often not enough poison in the system to do any real harm to another. - It is possible your friend simply recovered from the bite."

Lupin looked across the fire at him. "That's - a very decent thing to say. Thank you."

"It is a legitimate possibility to consider."

Lupin grinned: not to be confused with being a decent thing to say.

"You know, it was - a long time - years - before I realized it was Greyback who'd bitten me. All those nightmares - my father never told me he'd known the wolf who turned me into this. - And then, years later, I found out he was working for You-Know-Who."

Severus looked at him but said nothing.

"Did you ever - work with him?" It was a dangerous question, but after one and a half goblets of this wine, he was feeling a bit reckless.

Severus considered the question, then took a deep breath. "I did."

He waited, but that was all Severus was going to volunteer, apparently.

"Get along, did you?"

"No." He finished his second goblet, then looked at the bottom of the empty cup and finally put it on the table near his seat. "He follows the Dark Lord for the position it puts him in to find victims. I cannot abide those who attack children. No matter who they are." He met Remus' eyes, looking for him to understand. And he did.

"So - why did your father hate you so much?" He realized as soon as he asked it that either he was under the influence of some much stronger drug than the wine, or he had lost all sense of self-preservation.

But Severus merely answered, quite calmly, "He hated my mother. - She was a witch."

Lupin stared, not quite grasping what the Head of Slytherin House, the House that prided itself on its pure-blood heritage, was saying.

"Your father -?"

"Tobias Snape was a Muggle, yes."

He caught the fact that Severus referred to his father by his name, but had a much more important question he wanted to ask, since the time did seem right for such questions. "But how - how did you - I mean, Malfoy and the others - how did you keep them from knowing?"

A thin, nasty smile crept around the edges of Severus' lips. "Oh, Malfoy knew. But the others? They assumed a great deal when I was Sorted into their House. As did many people. - I never corrected their assumptions."

"I think most of us assumed - a great deal," Lupin said, by way of another confession. Severus refilled Remus' goblet, though there wasn't that much to refill, then poured himself another. And, as he had the night before, Remus wondered how well the Potions master could hold this particular potion. He had no interest in seeing Snape drunk.

"Did your father ever tell you what he did to anger Greyback?"

That wasn't a question Remus had anticipated, and as he met the still-bruised eyes under the shadows of the cowl, he realized Snape had the answer to that question. Or at least, an answer. Lupin shook his head.

"Greyback wanted your father to get him a teaching position in your school where your mother taught."

Lupin furrowed his brow. "It was a Muggle school, how could he -"

"Your father refused to help him. This was, of course, before Greyback and the Dark Lord began working together. Greyback wanted access to the children he felt he - deserved." Severus stopped and gave him a long look. "He told me once that biting you was one of his better - vengeances."

Remus felt a shiver race through him, but he wasn't sure why. Was it because this was a story he'd never heard? Was it the fact that it touched the anger he'd held for so long for the fact that his father had promised to explain it to him one day, "when you're older," and had then died before that day ever came?

Was it that he resented hearing from Severus what should have come from his father? Or that he felt Severus knew something about him that was quite personal, something he didn't even know about himself?

And was it also the fact that Severus had discussed him with the wolf who had destroyed his life?

Severus watched him for the long seconds during which he tried to sort through those thoughts and feelings. "I thought you would want to know," he said very quietly at length. "It was not calculated to upset you."

Lupin forced a straggling smile to his lips. "No, it's - I'm glad to know. Thank you." He took a steadying breath and smiled a bit more easily, though with a sense of irony. "Too bad Greyback doesn't have access to the Wolfsbane Potion."

An odd expression flitted over Severus' face, then, like a small storm cloud, it passed. "Speaking of which," he said instead, rising and crossing the room to his bookshelves. He pulled a book and handed it to Lupin. "I found this in - a shop - a few days ago. I thought you might be interested."

The book, which was obviously used but only barely worn, was titled Howling at the Moon: A Consciousness Approach to Individual and Pack Behavior of Werewolves. He flipped through the pages, finding numerous enchanted pictures and several recipes. He looked up. "Thank you. I'll get it back to you as soon -"

"I have already read it." Severus looked a bit uncomfortable. "You may keep it for your library."

Lupin smiled. "When have you had time to read a book you just got a few days ago?"

Severus' expression altered again. "I read it when it was first published. At a library." He took a breath and cleared his throat. "There are several quotes from Greyback in there. Also, as you may have seen, some other potion recipes for dealing with various aspects of transforming."

He opened the book again and checked the publication date: 1976. Their sixth year at Hogwarts. The year he and Severus had worked together on their N.E.W.T Potions and Herbology project. The year they had...

"Tried any of them?" he asked, pulling his mind back to the present.

He got a familiar sneer. "On whom, Lupin?" He held the man's gaze for a second longer, then said, "Actually, there was one that I - experimented with a few months ago." He said that as if he'd just confessed to something terrible.

He walked over to his cabinet, crouched down, opened it, and as he searched through it he continued. "Since the Wolfsbane Potion does not completely control the urge to bite and scratch oneself, and since the wounds from those bites are caused by Dark magic, they obviously do not respond to traditional healing potions." He finally found what he was looking for and stood back up.

"This recipe was in the book," he explained, returning to Lupin's side with a very thin, clear glass vial. "According to the author, it reduces the urge to bite and scratch. If you wish to try it..." He let the sentence dangle unfinished.

Remus took the vial. "Any particular side effects?" he asked, not realizing until the words were out how his comment must have sounded. "I mean -"

"There are none noted in the book," Severus responded without ire. "But, as I said, I have not had a chance to test it. So I cannot be sure."

Lupin unstoppered the vial and took a careful sniff. "Hellebore?" he guessed.

Snape nodded. "Among other things. - I have not tested it, Lupin. Please remember that if you decide you want to try it."

Remus chuckled. "I won't accuse you of poisoning me, if that's what you're concerned about." He stoppered the vial and tucked it into one of his pockets. "Think Greyback ever tried it?"

"No. Nor the Wolfsbane Potion." And then it was Snape's turn to look as if he'd said something he hadn't meant to.

"Tried it on him, did you?" Lupin asked, remembering the look on Severus' face a few moments ago.

Snape tried to glower, but apparently, his strength was beginning to ebb. All he managed was an unhappy look. "He - resisted my attempts," he muttered. "In any case," he continued, more strongly, "you now have - things to return with, since Black will undoubtedly be looking for such."

Remus nodded and assumed that was Severus' way of letting him know their conversation was over. He rose, tucking the book under his arm and finishing his wine. "You know, Severus, back in our sixth year-"

"Stop! Do. Not. Say anything more!"

He watched the silent torment on Snape's face and turned away and opened the door to the chamber.

"We were - friends," he said, ignoring the warning. "For a time."

He closed the door behind him and heard something smash inside.

* * * July 25-26, 1995, night - early morning

Once Lupin left - and he cleaned up the broken jar of pickles frog's feet - Severus returned to the Shrieking Shack to check his potions. He was intent on not thinking about Lupin's final comment: that time he seemed intent on bringing up again was not something Severus had any intention of reliving. It was, nearly twenty years later, still too painful.

Like the memory of Lily would always be.

Everything in the kitchen seemed to be brewing along nicely, though there was a stronger than usual odor of valerian coming from one of the cauldrons. That potion worked on a specific part of a wizard's brain, dampening his magical abilities. It was one of the potions he'd developed during the time he'd worked at Azkaban on his road to achieving his Mastery in Potions.

He wasn't too concerned with the odor, though. The room had been sealed against moisture and he would only need to be concerned if that seal had been breached. Since he had warned Lupin to stay out of the kitchen, and no one had added any moisture or steam to the room, the strong scent was not likely to indicate any problem with the potion.

He decanted the brew, which was in fact simply a variant of the Strengthening Solution he'd brought the Dark Lord already, and then turned off the fires under each of the cauldrons.

He returned to Hogwarts tired and weakened. But the day and a half of the Draught of Living Death had definitely helped: he no longer had to fight the constant nausea, his bruising was much better, his ankles and wrists and fingers were less swollen, and he hadn't brought up any blood since he'd woken.

Now, though, it was time for sleep. And he wasn't looking forward to it. Though a sleeping draught, or even Dreamless Sleep, were tempting, he knew enough about the onslaught of the intense dreams he was facing to know that either of those two potions would backfire and the nightmares would simply last longer.

He snuffed out the fire in his fireplace, turned off his lamps, and went to his bedchamber, with the slim hope that perhaps he wouldn't remember the dreams when he woke...

... He was with Lily. They were playing on the swing set behind her house, he was pushing her higher and higher and finally she jumped and soared effortlessly to the top of the tree a dozen feet away, landing on a thick branch that cracked beneath her sudden weight. She was laughing and he was laughing and then the branch cracked and fell...

... On her sister. Petunia shouted with pain and anger and fled to tell her parents what he'd done, and Lily was mad at him and stomped off...

And he called after her, "I didn't do it! I'm not a monster! I'm not a monster!"

... And James Potter pulled Lily close, into his arms, and wiped tears from her face, then looked at Severus with fury that would kill if given a chance...

"I'm not a monster," he whispered to himself, wondering how he could have ever said that word to Lily...

... And then he was holding her, and she was still only twelve but he was grown, and he told her she would find someone who loved her, someone who would love her forever, no matter what happened...

... Voldemort laughed and his red eyes scoured his soul and he saw Lily dead by the crib, her eyes open in horror, and her hair fanning out under her head like a fire...

... And the fire of the tattoo burned in his arm as he held it forward, unsupported, of his own will, letting the magic flame sear his arm and his soul and bind him to Voldemort's service for life...

"I am a monster," he thought...

... And Dumbledore's eyes pierced him with their anger as they stood before each other, and Severus felt his own betrayal of Dumbledore consume the last shreds of decency that had struggled to stay alive within his soul.

"What request could a Death Eater make of me?"...

... "Insufferably like his father!"

"How arrogant can a boy be who's spent the last several years locked in a small closet beneath a staircase!" Dumbledore shouted back...

... He was locked in his room and he heard Tobias screaming, hitting his mother. He was coming... He opened the door, Severus backed against the corner of his bed, trapped, watching the belt, and still Tobias struck before he was ready, the leather strap swung across his face and split it open, and blood poured down his cheeks...

... "Legilimens!" Dumbledore struck before he was ready and he was on the train to Hogwarts and Potter and Black had found him, had pushed their way into his compartment, then whispered to the two other boys where were already there, and they looked nervously at Severus, and Severus felt for his wand in his sleeve and knew that it was about to start again...

"Evil freak!" And Tobias swung again and the leather strap sliced a hot, bleeding gash on his arm, and while he stifled his cries and raised his arms to protect his face he turned his mind away from what was happening to him and he thought about making Tobias pay for this, finding a curse that he could use, that would open wounds like Tobias' belt did...

"Take yer shirt off, ye freak! I paid good money fer yer clothes, I'm not punishing them!"

And then the belt struck his bare chest and he howled and curled into a ball and the belt came down on his back, over and over, and he remembered that all the curses his mother used were in Latin, and he wondered what Latin words he could use to make a curse that would leave gashes on Tobias' face and chest...

... And then Harry Potter aimed his wand at Severus and screamed, "Sectumsempra!"

He woke, writhing on the bed, his sheet and blankets in a tangle on the floor. He was covered with sweat and he was shivering and cold. He wiped his face dry with the sleeve of his nightshirt and waited until he was breathing steadily, normally. He glanced at his clock and saw that it was just past midnight.

It was too early. It was far too early to just sit up for the rest of the night. He got out of bed and changed the sheets and then went to his private stores and unlocked the cabinet.

The vision of Harry Potter using that evil curse, that horrible thing he'd created for Tobias Snape, left him feeling as if he'd just been part of one of Lucius Malfoy's 'student initiations'. The monster part of him had created that curse. For him, it was worse than the Cruciatus, for he had made it from the evil that writhed within him, the evil he inherited from Tobias...

Potter would never learn that curse, he could never know it, it would destroy the boy's soul to use it, just as it had destroyed Severus'...

...The female Auror was staring at Tobias' body and shaking her head. "The Avada Kedavra didn't do that!" she said, pointing to the gashes on the man's stiff body. There was a lot of blood, Severus noted coolly, a lot of blood, but it wasn't flowing anymore because Tobias was dead, he would never hurt him or his mother again...

He stood up and made it to the bathroom and hung his head over the toilet and got sick. There was no blood in the toilet this time, though, so it was simply his own battered conscience at work right now.

That was a relief: apparently, he still had a conscience. Of sorts.

He went back to the cabinet and downed a dose of Dreamless Sleep, cursing himself for his weakness, but still shaking from the nightmares.

Five minutes later, he laid his head back on his pillows, and closed his eyes again...

... He sat in his dungeon dorm room at Hogwarts and aimed his wand at the ceiling, killing the flies and mosquitoes that loved to mate in this dank climate. His mind was a torrent of thoughts, and each time he aimed at one of the insects, he thought another thought...

That one was for James Potter and the arrogant grin on his face when he won the Quidditch match...

That one was for Black and his cousin Bellatrix, and the hope that one day they'd mate and give birth to a thing so awful it would drive them both insane...

That one was for Lucius Malfoy and Narcissa Black and the hope that they, too, would mate and give birth to a monster who would devour them...

This one was for Tobias, even though he was dead, and he wished the man would come at him with a belt again, now that he knew how to defend himself...

That was for his mother, who deserved to be in Azkaban and whom he didn't miss at all...

He stopped and wiped the tears off his cheeks and went looking for more insects...

... "You have to work to protect your mind, Severus," said Dumbledore, helping the boy up off the floor again. He was shaking and he sat in the chair.

"I can't! I don't know how to do it!"

"Clear your mind, clear out the anger, clear out the images, make your mind a blank... Legilimens!"

He screamed himself awake and then lay staring at the cement ceiling above him. For a moment, he thought he could hear the waves in the lake above the dungeon lapping, or flies buzzing...

He closed his eyes. The Dreamless Sleep wasn't working. Maybe he should just get up and start grading papers...

... He saw the boy in the front of the Hall, waiting to be Sorted, his eyes so young, innocent, and he thought, no, he is not innocent, he is James' Potter's brat and he is an arrogant toerag... And he saw Lily's eyes and he wondered how much of her might have survived in her son and then he realized that if he looked too closely for her it would drive him mad...

... He knocked on the door to the D.A.D.A. office, and heard Lupin call for him to enter. He had the potion for him, and it was as good an excuse as he could come up with to talk to him about the other thing, the thing he'd been trying to get time and opportunity to ask him about since Lupin had joined the staff.

"Ah, Severus," Lupin said, smiling. "Thanks very much. Could you leave it here on the desk for me?"

Not only was Lupin not available to talk to, he had Potter in here with him! Of all the damnable luck! All he needed was for Lupin to make some comment about the potion, tell Harry he was making him something that helped him... Of course, he wouldn't do that, he wouldn't give himself away...

He was working to get Black into the castle, wasn't he?

Wasn't he? Was he?

"You should drink that directly, Lupin," he said shortly.

"Yes, yes, I will."

"I made an entire cauldronful," he continued, though why he was doing so escaped him. "If you need more."

Of course he'd need more! What the hell? Had someone slipped him, Severus Snape, a Babbling Beverage?

"Thanks very much, Severus," the werewolf said, but Snape was eyeing Potter, who, in turn, was eyeing him, both wary and suspicious.

"Not at all." He backed out of the room, wondering what Potter would make of the exchange, and disappointed that, once again, his chance to talk to Lupin about Black had failed.

Maybe Lupin was purposely surrounding himself with others to keep Severus from talking to him...

... "How I hoped I'd be the one to catch you..."

"Severus, you're making a mistake!"

... "There! The Dark Mark!"

... The Dark Lord's eyes bled him as every horrible moment came back to him...

... "He didn't betray James and Lily," Dumbledore was saying, repeating his speech yet again. He watched Severus pace in front of him. "It was Pettigrew, Severus. You have to accept that. Sirius is innocent." And then, after a pause: "He didn't have anything to do with the Potters' death."

It was as low a blow as Dumbledore had ever leveled, and Severus felt his anger snap, hard and fast, and he crossed the room and opened the door and slammed it behind himself, strode down the hallway and took the stairs to the dungeon... After all this time, after being so close, so close to catching Black, to proving that he was what Severus had always believed him to be...

To have the truth...

It was, it would always be, he who had betrayed them. Always, forever and ever, it would be on his shoulders and his alone, he alone had betrayed Lily...

There were a lot of broken jars and torn books in his chambers the next morning...

He woke again. This time it was after three. He got up and changed the sticky, sweaty sheets again and put on a clean nightshirt, then turned to light a fire.

But before he could, a flame leapt up from the ashes and he heard a familiar, not unwelcome voice. "Severus? Would you like some company?"

He went and looked into the flame. "Still awake, Dumbledore?"

"Actually," the Headmaster said, "the portal has just been used."