Chapter Text
Severus Snape fell to the floor as the first waves of the Cruciatus curse washed over him, yet his mind was elsewhere. His hair was standing on end, spittle was dripping from his mouth, and his body was stretched in a contorted position which all pointed to the conclusion that he was in extreme agony, but all he could focus on was the ra-ta-ta-ta of the rain pounding on the window as he pondered how his life had brought him to this point.
Memories of his father mercilessly beating him while his mother sat idly by sprang to the forefront of his mind, but he could not blame his father for his current predicament. No, his hatred for his father was too long-lasting to have been what brought him to this situation.
Happy memories of a redheaded girl threatened to break through, but he shoved them aside. Happy memories had no place to exist during his torment. Instead, he focused on a raven-haired, bespectacled boy and his pack of unruly friends and thought to blame them for his current affairs.
But no, it was not their fault either. True, his best friend Lily had eventually chosen their company over his, but it was he who had called her the unforgivable name that had chased her straight into the arms of his long-time tormentors. Thinking of the seven years of misery he had suffered at the hands of James Potter and his friends, Severus could almost find a reason to blame them for the anguish he had continued to suffer in recent years, but they were too convenient of an excuse.
No, Severus realized as another pulse of the Cruciatus curse sent a shockwave of pain circulating throughout his body, he had no one to blame but himself. It had been he who had chosen to take the Dark Mark after all.
“Severus,” whispered a voice as the pain began to cease and Severus’ mind returned to the present. “I will not tolerate failure from you.”
Severus tried to respond, but he found no sound would emit from his vocal cords. He realized that at some point he must have been screaming.
“I demand you look at me when I speak to you,” the voice spoke once more and Severus knew he had to comply or there would be worse in store for him than the Cruciatus curse.
Summoning all his strength, Severus pushed himself into an upright seated position on the floor. His back erupted into a series of spasms as it threatened to give way, but Severus bit his lip and looked up at the only other occupant in the dimly lit room.
The man was older than Severus by about thirty years, although he did not look it. His skin was free from any blemishes, his stature was tall and imposing and he had a strength to him that seemed to radiate immense power. He had a deep and commanding voice that inspired confidence, and Severus realized that it was the man’s voice and charisma that had driven him to swear allegiance.
“Yes, Master,” croaked Severus, aware that his voice sounded weak.
“Hmmmmm,” replied Voldemort, and Severus could not help but shut his eyes as the man raised his wand. Prepared for another wave of pain, Severus focused again on the ra-ta-ta-ta of the rain and prepared to let his mind drift to thoughts of endless raindrops.
“Severus, I need you to pay attention,” commanded Voldemort.
Severus opened his eyes and watched as the man strode across the small room to one of the only pieces of furniture. He held out his finger and scanned it across the dusty tomes. The silence permeated the room as his Master searched for what he was looking for and Severus was afraid the loud beating of his heart would give away his fear. He was aware of a raspy noise that filled the room and realized it was the sound of his laboured breaths as his lungs tried to recover from the Cruciatus curse.
“It has been six months since you graduated Hogwarts,” Voldemort continued, suddenly breaking the silence. “And you have exceeded my expectations as a potioneer.”
Severus felt his heart skip a beat at that announcement, praise was so rarely given by the Dark Lord. Perhaps he was wrong to judge his Master so harshly? But no, he remembered the screams of children crying out for their murdered parents who had been senselessly killed at the hands of his fellow Death Eaters. Nothing could excuse those acts of evil.
Severus watched as his Master finally settled on a book and plucked it from the shelf. Being all too aware that the Dark Lord could read minds, Severus buried his memories behind what he called The Void; a seemingly endless and bottomless pit he created far below the surface of his mind to store his true thoughts and emotions. He had developed this skill to withstand the beatings of his father, and he had been shocked to learn that it seemed to work on the Dark Lord as well.
The Dark Lord tossed his chosen tome and Severus gasped as the heavy book hit him in the face, his muscles still too weak to react to the thrown object. With twitching fingers and shaking arms, Severus picked up the large book and desperately tried to focus on the title. When his vision finally did adjust, he could hardly believe the title.
The Hidden Art of Prophecy
The first reaction Severus had was to question what such a book was doing on his private bookshelf. He realized with a shiver that the Dark Lord must have placed it there himself without Severus knowing. He wondered what the most powerful wizard in Britain would need with such a tome. He knew it was believed that a handful of witches and wizards possessed an ability called the Sight which allowed them to see into the future or some such nonsense, but Severus had always believed it to be nothing more than rumours or the desperate hopes of people. Did the Dark Lord believe in it? It seemed too ridiculous.
Severus hoped his traitorous thoughts were still buried deep inside the vacuum of his mind. Severus’ eyes left the tome as his Master took a seat in a chair in front of him and began to explain.
“You are of course aware of the losses we have sustained at the hands of Albus Dumbledore and his minions," began the Dark Lord, "the most recent raid included the loss of your mentor, Ernie Travers. I suddenly find myself in need of a personal potioneer and as your skills have impressed me, I am choosing you to fill this vacancy.”
Severus’ mind reeled at this information. Ernie was dead? Severus could not help but feel glad. The man had deliberately chosen to make his potions as agonizing as possible because he enjoyed the pain they wrought his victims. But wait, now that he was becoming the Dark Lord’s potioneer, would he be expected to brew these potions? As Ernie’s assistant, he had always been relegated to brewing healing potions for the Death Eater ranks, would he now be expected to take part in the more advanced potions that facilitated murder and torture? Severus was aware of a prickling sensation at the forefront of his mind and knew his master was trying to read his thoughts. He strengthened his shield and dared to look up at his Master, meeting his gaze.
“Thank you, Master!” cried Severus. “I will not disappoint you.”
“I know you won’t,” replied the Dark Lord, seemingly satisfied. “That is why I am sending you on a special mission.”
Once again, Severus felt he was at a loss. A special mission? He had been a Death Eater for six months and so far, had only been on one mission.
He and a team of four wizards had been sent to the home of an Auror. Severus had been told that this Auror had been responsible for the deaths of three Death Eaters. Severus did not know the Death Eaters who had perished at the hands of the Auror, but he had been told they had been fighting to stop a ban on the creation of new spells. Severus was a practitioner of spell making and fully supported the efforts of his Death Eater compatriots. He was looking forward to bringing this Auror to justice. His role in this mission was to compel the Auror to take Veritaserum to force a confession. What he had not been expecting was that the Auror’s family would be home. What he also had not been expecting was that his fellow Death Eaters would enjoy tormenting them.
He watched as Death Eater Jason Burke put the Auror’s daughter under the Imperius curse and forced her to beat her mother. He watched as Brian Avery placed the mother under the Cruciatus curse. He averted his eyes as the other Death Eaters laughed, apparently finding the entire thing hysterical. He met the eyes of the Auror who looked on in shock and dismay, helpless to do anything. Severus would always remember the Auror’s piercing gaze, filled with disgust and hatred.
The Veritaserum had revealed that the Auror had indeed murdered the Death Eaters, but Severus learned that these so-called innocent men and women were not protesting ministry laws. Instead, they were murdering the families of those who had voted to pass the law. After gaining the confession, Jason Burke used the killing curse on the Auror and his wife, and before disapparating away, Severus’ ears filled with the cries of the Auror’s children. Severus never learned the name of the Auror in whose murder he had participated.
That night had been the first night when Severus began to regret joining the Dark Lord. Severus began to fear he would be participating in a lot more murders in the future, and he did not see a way out.
“I have found a way to tip the scales to our advantage,” said the Dark Lord as he bent forward and picked up the book. “A handful of my followers have taken to listening to the whispers of the Seers in the hopes of hearing anything that pertains to our war and I have finally found answers.”
The Dark Lord’s long fingers flipped through the book and Severus shuddered as he watched the man’s dark eyes dart back and forth as he sought what he was after. The Dark Lord tossed the book back to Severus, who was better prepared to catch the item having almost recovered from the Cruciatus. After all, his Master had been merciful and not extended the torment for too long. Severus held the book and began to read.
The Pythia (The Oracle of Delphi)
Since 1400 BC, a long succession of Oracles has served at the Temple of Apollo in Delphi, Greece. These women, blessed with the Gift of Sight, are held as the centre of Divination for Seers across the magical world. Indeed, the prophecies of the Pythia are regarded as so accurate that influential figures have been known to travel far and wide to take part in the pilgrimage at the sacred site. The Pythia is expected to remain spiritually pure, as once a month she undergoes a purification ritual to prepare her for prophecy. If the ritual is successful, the Pythia will remove her veil and take her seat in the Adyton, the innermost sanctum of the temple. Chosen pilgrims are then invited to complete a purification ritual of their own before they are brought before the Pythia in a one-on-one ceremony where a personal prophecy will be delivered to all who are granted access.
Severus’ heart fell as he finished reading the passage. He suspected the Dark Lord did not have decent plans for this Oracle. Severus feared he would be expected to capture the Seer, or worse.
The Dark Lord, still bent over, placed his hand on Severus’ chin and forced him to look up. Once again, Severus could feel the pinpricks of his Master invading his mind.
“You will be travelling to Greece and meeting with the Pythia. You will ask her about this war, and then you will return her prophecy to me.” The Dark Lord’s eyes continued to bear down on Severus as if challenging him to speak out about his task. Severus knew better, and instead, he stayed silent and kept the surface of his mind blank. In the deepest recesses of his mind, however, he was almost screaming. Was this the break he had been looking for? Would this give him the chance to escape the Dark Lord’s clutches?
The Dark Lord lifted his hand from Severus’ chin and stood up, returning to the bookcase. He placed the book back in its spot among the other dusty tomes and conjured up a piece of parchment. Severus wondered if he had not fully recovered from the Cruciatus, as the Dark Lord seemed to glide across the floor. Severus couldn’t help but be awed at his Master’s powerful grace.
“Many of your associates will not be thrilled at the fact that I am giving you, barely more than a recruit, this important task,” continued the Dark Lord. “Many will try to kill you. Unfortunately for them, your skill in potions is too valuable and I do not have a replacement. Additionally, we need a cover story if you are to meet with the Pythia and be granted a prophecy. Normally I would be content with forcing this Oracle to obey me, however, it seems she can only give a prophecy if the rituals are followed so unfortunately, a cover story is necessary. I am aware you did not get to complete your potions apprenticeship before Ernie met his end, so I have enrolled you in a program in Greece. There is a British potioneer by the name of Damocles Belby who is in residence at Athens visiting family. You will complete your potions apprenticeship under his tutelage, while your real task is to meet with the Pythia.”
The Dark Lord handed Severus the parchment which, he noted, was his enrollment paper for a six-month apprenticeship that was scheduled to start in just under a fortnight on January 8. Severus wondered what his Master must have done to force Belby to agree to this apprenticeship. Would Belby be aware Severus was a Death Eater? He hoped not.
The after-effects of the Cruciatus Curse, his Master’s dominating presence, and all of this new information were too much for Severus to handle and he felt a wave of nausea overcome him. His vision started to cloud over, and he almost did not notice when his Master appeared right in front of him with his wand outstretched. For a split second, he foolishly believed the Dark Lord was going to cast a rejuvenating charm on him, but then he felt his body erupt into a series of spasms as every nerve seemed to burst into pain. Severus’s mind fled to the center of his Void.
“And Severus,” growled the Dark Lord, “do not disappoint me.”
The ra-ta-ta-ta of the rain on the window anchored Severus’ mind as he once again wondered how his life had got to this point.
Sometime later, the sound of children screaming startled Severus from his blissful slumber. He realized with a start that he must have dozed off during a Death Eater raid and he was hearing that sounds of muggles being tortured.
He opened his eyes and regretted that action almost immediately; he had not been prepared for the intensity of the sun blaring down on him from the open windows. With his eyes still closed, he tried to force himself on his feet before anyone discovered he had passed out. He managed to get himself upright but not for long as his head began to throb and swirl with dizziness and he found himself back on the floor. He wondered why none of the other Death Eaters were taunting him and throwing curses his way for his weakness. He risked opening an eye and realized he was in his library.
At once, memories of the meeting with the Dark Lord burst forth in his mind and he groaned as he remembered the extended torture of the Cruciatus curse. He blinked his eyes until the tears cleared and cast a quick Tempus charm. The basic spell caused an overwhelming sensation of dizziness to course through him, but he managed to note the date and time. His meeting with the Dark Lord had been almost four days previous. The sting of his dry lips and the moaning of his stomach reaffirmed his discovery that he had been asleep on the floor of this library for almost four days.
Although his aching muscles did not wish to comply, he forced himself to his feet. With eyes only half open, Severus grabbed a nearby chair to help steady himself and he gloomily realized this had been the chair the Dark Lord used during their meeting. He stared at it in disgust and contemplated obliterating it before he remembered his feeble attempt at the Tempus spell and decided he was too weak to do any magic in his current state. Another pitiful moan from his stomach reminded Severus that his priority right now needed to be finding something to drink and eat.
Severus let his eyes finally adjust to the full intensity of the afternoon sun before using the wall to help guide him to the kitchen. Thankfully, his house at Spinner’s End was small and he made it to his destination after only falling twice. He winced after the second fall, realizing the damage to his muscles and bones from the Cruciatus curse was extensive.
Once he was finally in the kitchen, Severus reached for a cabinet hidden off to the side. This cabinet held his most important potions and was warded from prying eyes. He grabbed the potion closest to him and was disappointed to find that he only had a few doses left. He would have to try to avoid his Master’s wrath until he could find time to brew another batch. He lifted the vial to his lips and let the soothing liquid flow down into his throat.
This potion had been a special concoction he had invented to help lessen the after-effects of the Cruciatus curse. The simple blend of cloves, chamomile, and scorpion venom was far from perfect and did nothing to lessen the damage on his mind, but it would help his muscles and bones begin to heal.
With that part taken care of, Severus moved to the other end of the kitchen, happily aware that it was already easier to move. He grabbed a glass, filled it with water, and let the second soothing liquid of the day wash down his throat. Unfortunately, the cold liquid caused his empty stomach to cramp. He desperately needed something to eat. He made his way to the fridge and was disappointed to find it only contained half a rotten sandwich and a carton of stale chips. This would not do to help him get his energy back.
Fully aware that he looked like a werewolf after a particularly violent full moon, he made his way over to the front door of his home and noticed it had snowed at some point during his extended slumber. He grabbed a pair of gloves and his overcoat and headed out into the dilapidated neighbourhood of his residence. With his magic in a weakened state and the chill of the late December air cutting through to his bones, he knew he had to find somewhere close. He decided he would try a kebab shop that was not too far away and hoped that it would still be in business unlike most of the other shops nearby.
With the thought of food somewhat invigorating him, he made his way down the street passing a small group of children who were playing in a snow-covered yard of one of the remaining inhabited houses. He realized these were the same children who had awoken him, and he was happy to note that they were not screaming in pain, but in joy at whatever game they had been playing. The sounds of their play suddenly stopped as Severus passed them and out of the corner of his eye, he noticed they were watching him. He tried to appear friendly and gave them a smile and a wave, but with his ragged appearance, it must have had the opposite effect because they bolted to the safety of their house. He winced when he realized this time their screams were of fear.
“Oh well,” Severus sighed to himself. “At least I won’t have to worry about being bothered by anyone.”
This thought perked him up and he decided he did not mind looking intimidating and imposing. Weren’t those the features he admired most about his Master? He raised his head a little higher at this realization and continued to his destination. He paused only for a second when he passed the park where he used to play in his childhood. Memories of his adventures with Lily sprang to mind and he felt his heart skip a beat. He pushed these thoughts aside and continued walking. it would not do well to dwell on times long since passed.
Eventually, he came to the Evans’ residence which, during his summers off from Hogwarts had been like a second home to him. He forced himself to pick up the pace as he knew that if he went slowly, he would not be able to stop himself from looking up at the house. He had not been there for several years and he feared what he might see. Did the Evans’ still live there? Did something happen to them? Would he see Lily in the window? He longed for the days when he could visit and be treated to one of Mrs. Evans’ homemade Cornish pasties. He even found he missed the times when he used to spend hours trying to explain mundane magical concepts to Mr. Evans. He silently cursed his Master and the Cruciatus curse that presently made his magic too weak to apparate. He had purposefully avoided walking in the neighbourhood for years because he knew these treacherous feelings would surface.
Despite the sting of winter, the street began to fill with more people, and he realized he was approaching the only area in the neighbourhood that still had a few shops. His stomach was getting impatient and he noticed a few passersby glance at him whenever his stomach decided to groan and moan for food. He decided to use his appearance to his advantage and gave them a menacing glare that sent them scuttling away. Oh yes, he could enjoy this new power.
Finally, he reached the kebab shop and was delighted to see that it was still in business. He opened the small, glass door and was immediately hit with the succulent aroma of roasted meat, Turkish spices, and sweet garlic sauce. At once, his mouth began to water, and he was thankful that he was the only one in the shop.
He made his way over to the counter but was displeased to note that the muggle shopkeeper was talking on the telephone instead of paying attention. Severus’ stomach decided to note its displeasure by playing a hungry symphony of gurgles and rumbles. Not being able to go another second without food, Severus barked at the shop keeper to hurry up and make him a doner kebab. Severus decided the scowl on his face must have been particularly unpleasant because the man took one look at him, jumped to his feet, and immediately began filling his order.
He was happy he managed to get his order in because only a moment later he heard the bell above the small shop’s door jingle to signal another patron had arrived. He moved to the other side of the shop to avoid the new patron and spare them his hungry wrath. While moving, he thought he saw a flash of red hair and the fruity smell of a familiar perfume, and despite his hunger, he felt his ravenous appetite leave him. It could not be her, not here, not now. She could not see him like this. Knowing the strength of his magic would not return to him until he ate, he shut his eyes, and fruitlessly wished himself to disappear. He heard the click-clack of a lady’s shoes slowly approach him as if the wearer was unsure if they should continue.
“Severus?” a familiar voice called out and Severus felt weaker at that moment than from any moment under a curse from the Dark Lord. “Severus is that you?”
Severus kept his eyes shut tight but still the click-clack of the shoes continued their approach. He briefly debated fleeing, but he knew he needed to eat. He was not sure if he could make it to the next shop which was over five kilometres away. What if he managed to make it there and they were shut down?
The click-clack of the shoes stopped right in front of him and he heard a sharp intake of breath.
“Severus!” cried the voice. “I knew it was you who I saw walking by my parents’ house! Oh Sev, look at me. What happened to you?”
That voice, so gentle and concerned, filled his heart with warmth. He slowly opened his eyes and looked into the eyes of his childhood best friend. Although he had not seen her since they had finished school, he was happy to see she had not changed much. Her youthful features were still bright, and her green eyes still danced in the light. It was obvious that she had not spent six months at the hands of a menacing madman. He winced when he realized how he must look to her. He was aware that he had been staring at her awkwardly and decided he needed to say something.
“Hi Lily,” he said, immediately hating how weak his voice sounded. If there was one thing he hated, it was being weak. He spent months learning complex potions from Ernie Travers. He had poured over rare books filled with obscure and almost impossible magics. He had mastered his natural gift of Occlumency which could fool the Dark Lord himself and he had finally begun to master wandless magic. He was not weak!
“Oh Sev,” said Lily, as her eyes filled with concern.
That simple nickname brought everything back. He was back in fifth-year, being tormented by James Potter and his group of miscreants in front of the entire student body. The feeling of rage and helplessness had been too much on this occasion and when Lily, always concerned and always sticking up for him, had tried to tell off his bullies, he had snapped at her and called her that foul word. That had been the end of their friendship and the final push in his turn to the dark side. He had spent years afterward longing to be called that nickname again and longing for the return of his one true friend. It had never happened but now, here she was standing in front of him. He knew it was too late, he had already taken the Dark Mark and condemned his life. He had to push her away before he was forced to tell her of his allegiances. He could not bear the thought of seeing her eyes filled with anger and disappointment once again.
“Order for Mr. Snape!” came the call from the counter and he hastily shoved past Lily and grabbed his order while slamming a few muggle coins from his overcoat on to the counter. He decided he would eat it on the way back to his house and made for the exit.
“Wait, Sev!” cried Lily and he stopped in his tracks. “I’ll order something too, let’s catch up.”
He turned to face her, intending to tell her he had important business to attend to when he looked in her green eyes once again. He was not sure what had come over him when he nodded his head yes. He knew it would be dangerous for them to be seen together but in his selfish heart, this was all he wanted.
He took a seat at the farthest corner of the small shop and let his teeth sink into the meal. It was as if nothing else existed at that moment, just the tenderness of the rotisserie-cooked lamb, the softness of the pita, the crunch of the lettuce and tomatoes, and the zing of the spice blend. Only when his stomach began feeling full did the world fade back into focus and the first thing he noticed was that Lily was staring at him with her mouth open as if in shock.
“Wow, you were hungry,” she said.
Severus did not know how to reply to that, so he just kept eating. He felt his magic begin to strengthen and he cast a quick Muffliato charm to keep their conversation private. As one of his inventions, this charm was one of the few spells he had so far learned to cast wandlessly. However, it seemed casting such a spell had been pointless as the two ate their food in uncomfortable silence. Severus was the first to break it.
“Well I really must be----,” he began, only to be interrupted.
“Sev, are you all right?”
He flinched back as Lily went to reach for his arm. Perhaps she had been trying to comfort him or offer him support, but that arm bore the Dark Mark and he did not want to take any chances. He heard the rumours that she, along with James Potter and his friends, had joined Dumbledore. Suddenly aware that he may have walked into a trap, he glanced at the door and tried to think of an exit strategy. Would he even want to fight? If James Potter or Dumbledore were hiding just outside the door, would he just surrender and let them finish him off to escape his misery? No, his life was not how he had pictured it, but he did not want to die. He also knew he would not hurt Lily, no matter who was throwing spells at him.
“Sev, please,” she tried again. “Why do you look so nervous all of a sudden?”
Severus felt himself sigh. He decided might as well get this over with so she could go back to hating him. There was no point in prolonging his misery.
“Lily,” he began, searching for the right words, “we can’t be seen together.”
He saw a fire burst in her eyes and her eyebrows began to twitch like they always did when she was suspicious or angry. He braced himself for what was coming.
“And why is that Severus?” she questioned in an accusative tone. “Is it because of your muggle hating friends? Don’t tell me the rumours about you are true.”
Even though the potion and food had long since combatted any after-effects of the Cruciatus curse, he felt a weakness return to his muscles and a pit return to the center of his stomach. He submerged all his feelings and emotions deep within his mind and allowed himself to build a mask of indifference upon his face. He would not allow himself to be weak any longer.
“Yes Lily,” he said with a nod of his head, “the rumours are true.”
He expected to be yelled at, cursed at, and for Dumbledore to burst into the shop and send him straight to Azkaban. He had not expected the tears to fall from the corner of Lily’s eyes, the hitched breath that escaped her lips, or for the sudden tremble in her outstretched hand.
“Why?” she whispered, her eyes locked onto her fingers, avoiding Severus’ face.
“They accept me,” he replied coolly. He felt his confidence return. He was finally able to put to words what he had been pondering so much recently; why his life had taken this path. He could tell she was about to retort, and he put up a hand to silence her.
“I was the top of our class,” he continued. “I corrected our yearly textbooks when it came to brewing techniques, I invented complex spells, I could counter any curse in DADA, yet I was invisible. James Potter got all the attention from the professors, you got all the praise from McGonagall and Dumbledore, and Lupin got all the special attention around his abilities, what did I get?”
He waited for her to say something, but she sat in silence, her eyes locked on his. He noticed an odd expression flashed across her face. Was it pity? Sorrow? Was she beginning to understand him? He took a deep breath before resuming.
“I’ll tell you what I got,” he continued, and he locked his eyes with hers. “I got treated with derision. I was never quite good enough for McGonagall despite being top of the class, Slughorn never trusted me to brew after class as he did with you, and Dumbledore, Dumbledore shrugged me off when I was almost murdered by bloody Gryffindors! All of the teachers were suspicious of me, even when I had yet to glance at one book related to Dark Magic, all because of the rumours surrounding my mother and the Princes. My mother married a muggle for Merlin’s sake. She was not dark! But no one could see that. Everyone assumed I was evil before even giving me a chance.”
“I didn’t think you were evil,” whispered Lily and Severus felt his heart drop to his knees. “I stuck by you despite those rumours. I defended you. I believed in you. I looked the other way when you did start turning to dark magic. So, don’t talk to me about being ignored, Severus!”
So much for making her understand. He noticed the fire was beginning to return to her and he watched as her eyes narrowed. He was suddenly thankful he had had the foresight to cast the Muffliato spell. Once Lily was passionate about an argument, not much could stop her.
“I know,” he said.
It suddenly became very important to him to make her understand why he did what he did.
“You were my best friend and I am so thankful I had you," he continued, "but you got to return to a House where you were accepted. People did not whisper dark things about you. Teachers didn’t give you detention for excelling at a lesson because your superior skills made them believe you were researching dark magic in your spare time. You weren’t bullied and tormented daily by goons that masqueraded as star pupils. Every summer you went home to a family that loved you and cared for you. You didn’t have to deal with the feeling of being weak despite all of the power and knowledge that should have made you feel like the strongest person in the room. My housemates approached me, and they promised me I would never feel weak again. They promised me we would fight for the injustices I felt. They swore that never again would a student at Hogwarts be singled out for daring to be ambitious. How could I not take them up on that offer?”
“Oh, Severus!” spat Lily, and the fire in her eyes seemed to burn his soul. “You’re right, I didn’t experience any of that. Instead, I watched as my best friend was whispered about, no matter how much I stood up for him. I watched as you were bullied, and I tried my best to help. You know what? I even started dating James Bloody Potter to get him to leave you alone in seventh-year even though we were no longer friends. Every summer I invited you over to my house so you could avoid spending too much time with your father. You were never weak Severus. You were, and always will be, the most brilliant wizard I have ever met. But for someone so brilliant you can be bloody stupid sometimes.”
The fire in her eyes had deflated, leaving her looking sad. Severus deeply regretted the way this conversation had gone. She had wiped away the confidence he had discovered, and he was once again questioning why his life had brought him to this point. Was she right? Was it because he was stupid? How could she know, she had not even been around for the last couple of years! Was it true she had fled to James Potter to protect him? So that had been his fault too.
“Oh Sev, what are we going to do with you?” she said with a sigh.
The sadness in her eyes was too much to take and he decided to focus on the front counter and listened intently as the shopkeeper, once again on the phone, complained about the sudden, persistent buzzing in his ears that would not seem to go away.
“What do you mean?” he finally asked, strengthening his mask of indifference. “Don’t presume I am not happy with how my life has turned out.”
“You’re a Death Eater,” Lily said with a snort. “Look at you. You look like you haven’t slept in weeks. You ate like you have been starving for days. I don’t even think you notice but your arms keep twitching, your hair is all over the place, you smell worse than when we accidentally locked ourselves in the Care of Magical Creatures storage closet for an entire weekend, your clothes are ripped and have stains all over the place, and you’re only eighteen yet you look ten years older.”
Suddenly he became aware of the small twitches and spasms in his arms and legs. Perhaps the Cruciatus curse had not worn off yet, just how long had his Master tormented him this time? He felt a blush begin to bloom at the mention of his smell and manner of dress.
“Finally!” cried Lily, making Severus jump in his seat. “Some emotion from you! You’re doing that thing you used to do after spending too much time with your father; burying your emotions and not letting anyone in.”
It saves me from the Dark Lord, he wanted to tell her.
“So, he’s the Dark Lord now?” she said in disgust, and he wondered if she had read his mind when even the Dark Lord could not, or if he had spoken out loud. He shrugged in indifference.
“I know you, Severus,” she continued, and her voice became low and very serious. The fire was completely gone from her eyes, instead she looked at him with a piercing gaze. “I have known you almost all my life. You are not a murderer and you do not torture people. Maybe I can believe that your housemates whispered promises of whatever nonsense you had in your head that you wanted, but you are not like these people.”
His stubborn pride wanted to prove her wrong. He wanted to dash all her preconceptions of him. He wanted to tell her that she did not know him anymore. He wanted to declare that who he was when they were children had no bearing on who he was today. But she was right. The senseless murder and the torture of innocents made him sick. He could deal with fighting those who were in direct opposition to him in the war, but their families? He did not particularly care for muggles, but murdering children? And he had to concede not all muggles were bad, Mr. and Mrs. Evans were exceptional people. Severus subconsciously rubbed his hand on his forearm that bore the Mark and sighed.
“It’s my fault,” Lily admitted quietly, and Severus did not think his heart could drop any lower. “I abandoned you when you needed me the most. You called me that vile thing and instead of trying to help you, I shut you out. I’m no better than those who had been whispering about you.”
“No!” shouted Severus. He would not let Lily take the blame for his own mistakes. “It’s my fault, it’s my doing. Yes, afterward I was alone and turned to my Housemates, but that was my fault in the first place! I was the one that uttered that foul word.”
“Oh, Sev,” said Lily as she began to cry.
Severus swallowed his pride, moved his chair directly beside hers, and let her bury her head into his shoulder. He let his mask fall completely for the first time in years and felt himself open up.
“You’re right Lily,” he whispered into the back of her head. “I am not happy. I’m miserable. I don’t deny that I have a penchant for dark things and a passion for dark magic, but this is too much. I want to say that I was fooled into joining the Dark Lord, but we all knew the rumours and I was so desperate for acceptance that I joined anyway. You’re right Lily, I’m stupid.”
Lily looked up at him with hope in her eyes.
“Then defect!” she exclaimed. “Go to Dumbledore, tell him everything! He’ll protect you!”
Severus shook his head at that. All his years at Hogwarts taught Severus that Dumbledore was not to be trusted. The fact that he let a werewolf attend classes and did not so much as blink an eye when it almost killed a student was evidence enough.
“Why not?” cried Lily, seemingly desperate.
“Because Lily,” Severus said sadly, “I made my choice. And are we forgetting about the Dark Mark? As long as I have that branded onto my skin, the Dark Lord owns me.”
“There must be something we can do. How am I supposed to sleep at night knowing you’re out there among them and hating every minute of it?”
Ah, this was his Lily, always trying to come to his rescue and help him solve his problems.
“Please don’t worry about me,” pleaded Severus. He decided to give her some information, to give her hope - to give himself hope. “The Dark Lord has chosen me for a special mission. You need not worry; I will not have any contact with the Dark Lord or any Death Eaters for at least six months.”
Lily seemed to breathe a sigh of relief and Severus was glad he decided to trust her with this information, even if they would both be in trouble if anyone caught wind of it.
“Okay, six months,” agreed Lily. “Then we will meet back here and come up with a plan to get you out. And I don’t want to hear no from you, Severus. At least agree to meet with me so I can be sure you’re alive.”
Severus rubbed the bridge of his nose and furrowed his brow. He did not know what six months in the future would look like for him. Planning to meet with the enemy that far in advance seemed dangerous, but he knew Lily would not take no for an answer. He tried a different approach to dissuade her.
“I don’t think James Potter would want you to meet with Snivellus,” Severus said with disgust. He was shocked to see that Lily’s face brightened at that statement.
“Oh, you’re wrong,” she said. “I think you’d be amazed to find out that James would want to help.”
“What?” replied Snape, at a loss for words.
“Oh, come on,” Lily said, with a roll of her eyes. “You don’t think in the last year that I’ve been with him that I hadn’t told him all about my childhood with you? He’s been wanting to apologize for everything he put you through but then we had heard the rumours you joined you-know-who. Believe me, I’ll forever hate him for how he treated you, but he’s changed.”
Now Severus was the one to roll his eyes. Oh well, he was one to talk. He went and joined the Death Eaters, at least James Potter was not associating with those who enjoyed killing innocent children. Probably. So long as there were not any werewolves around. At least Lily seemed happy, and perhaps if he found out a way to fix his Dark Lord problem, maybe they could rekindle their broken friendship. Already it seemed as if some threads had been woven back into place.
“Fine,” Severus relented, and he felt a small smile begin to grow. The smile felt strange on his face and he wondered if it was his first smile since fifth-year. “We will meet here in exactly seven months, one month after I return from Greece.”
“Greece!” exclaimed Lily, and just like that, it was as if the two best friends had never been apart.
Lily spent the next forty minutes telling Severus all about the places he needed to see when he was in Greece: the magical city of Rhodes, the island of Delos where the great wizard Apollo and witch Artemis had been born, the Minoan palace of Knossos where minotaurs still roamed free, and of course the island of Santorini where it was rumoured a community of merfolk had refounded Atlantis.
The two sat in complete comfort, enjoying how easy it was to converse with one another. All too soon, it seemed to end as Severus felt a familiar jolt of pain in his inner left forearm.
“What is it?” Lily asked, noticing his sudden discomfort.
“The Dark Lord,” Severus replied, and he buried the blush that was threatening to burn on his cheeks. He shoved all his emotions and his memories of Lily into the deepest recesses of his mind and once against forced his face to take on an impassive and cold expression. He got up to leave but felt Lily grab his arm.
“Wait, Sev,” she pleaded.
Severus knew being late was just going to prolong his agony later and he was worried what another session under the Cruciatus curse would do to him so soon after the last one. He was about to tell her as much but her worried eyes indicated she understood.
“Don’t worry,” he told her. “I’ll be fine. I’ve done this before, many times.”
“I know,” she said, but her voice wavered, betraying her words. “I just wanted to tell you that I’m glad we met and that I forgive you for everything. We were, and still are, the best of friends, and I would never trade the memories of my childhood with you for anything. I know the capacity for goodness that grows in your heart, I have seen it so many times and I should have remembered that even when you called me what you did. You’re a good man Severus Snape, please remember that, no matter what.”
Severus felt the burn of the Mark increase and knew his master was getting impatient. The words Lily told him had him reeling and he feared he would not be able to keep them safely tucked away in the recesses of his mind. He nodded his head at his best friend and let himself feel the pull of the Mark as he apparated to his Master, fully expecting to meet his doom.