Light on the Dark Side of Me

Title: Light on the Dark Side of Me
Author: Cocoa-Snape
Disclaimer: I own nothing. Harry Potter belongs exclusively to JKR…she is a goddess. I am making no money from this.
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Light on the Dark Side of Me
Chapter 16: Goodnight, my dear Severus

Dumbledore had initially thought nothing of his Potions Master’s desire for privacy over the long weekend. The Headmaster knew that if it were up to Severus, he would devote all his time to research and this weekend afforded him an opportunity to pursue his passion uninterrupted. So when Dumbledore received Snape’s note, he was not at all surprised or worried. In fact, he knew that Severus was particularly keen on being alone after attending a Death Eater meeting proffering no significant information for the Order. Dumbledore recognized that what Severus needed most was to feel useful.

Since Severus had appeared on his doorstep over 16 years ago, with perhaps his own agenda at the time, Dumbledore had come to trust Severus Snape implicitly. But more than that, he had grown to love Severus like the son he never had. He had often tried to convey how proud and grateful he was to Severus for sacrificing so much for the Order, but the man seemed to view the task as his duty, and perhaps, as some sort of penance. Dumbledore always worried that Severus wasn’t fully honest with him about the pain he endured at these meetings, be it physical or psychological, and he wondered if perhaps this time things had gone too far – even a man as disciplined as Severus Snape had his limits, although he would never admit them. As Dumbledore approached the dungeons, he was hoping against hope that Harry was wrong to be worried about his Potion’s Master – but he knew better.


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‘If I thought I could help you but putting you into an enchanted sleep and allowing you to postpone the moment when you would have to think about what has happened [that] night, I would do it. But I know better. Numbing the pain for a while will make it worse when you feel finally it.’ Albus Dumbledore, GoF by JKR, page 695.


Severus Snape had not slept much the past two days. He’d been very busy – working on improving many different potions, inventing new ones – anything and everything to keep his mind off his last encounter with Voldemort. He had refused Harry’s repeated attempts to gain entry into his quarters, and eventually he cast a silencing charm so that he could ignore the boy’s hideous poundings altogether. Now, with a glass of fine single malt scotch in one hand and a glass stirrer in the other, he was carefully mixing this new (and hopefully) improved version of wolfsbane. But as the potion began to take on a greenish tint, Snape knew it was not to be; the potion was ruined. Frustrated, he sighed aloud.

Abruptly, he felt the magical wards that protected his quarters and now more importantly, his privacy, receding – so gently and easily, he knew it could only be one person.

“Damn it,” he muttered. It had to be the Headmaster. Anyone else would have to blow up half of Hogwarts to get past his wards, or they wouldn’t be able to get in at all. Snape knew there was only one thing that would bring Dumbledore to his door at this late hour. He wanted to check on him after his latest meeting with the Dark Lord.

Snape often wondered why he put up with this – all the stress of being a spy, all the pain. But the answer was never more than a moment away. He would do anything for the Order. No, not the Order…for Albus. When he first went to the Headmaster with his confession of being a Death Eater so many years ago, he had hated Dumbledore for his righteousness, and he had sworn that no matter what the man did to help him, he would never let himself be sucked into Dumbledore’s philanthropy. Better to despise him than to be indebted to him. But that was when Dumbledore’s gift was a mere second chance for freedom. Now, Snape realized that it was, had been all along, a far more profound offering. Not really a gift at all, more of a return, a renewal of Snape’s soul, a second chance to be trusted. Dumbledore believed in him like no one ever had, and he became like the father Snape had always wanted. Severus Snape realized a long time ago that he could deny Albus Dumbledore nothing.

Snape snapped himself out of his train of thought and quickly threw on a black robe over his disheveled grey pajamas, which he hadn’t bothered to change for nearly two days now. As he moved to exit his lab, he felt his wards returning to full strength again.

Dumbledore peered around the corner into Snape’s workroom. There were bottles everywhere, papers strewn about, and several cauldrons bubbling vigorously – not typical of his meticulously neat Potions Master. Snape emerged, tying off his black robe.

“Severus.”

“Headmaster, is something wrong?” Snape asked.

“Not at all. I am sorry for intruding. Am I interrupting?”

“Well actually—”

But Dumbledore pretended not to hear him and continued, “I came to see how you are, my boy. You’ve missed quite a few meals, but I see you’ve been keeping yourself busy.” Surely a sign of stress, or perhaps trying to keep your mind off something, Dumbledore thought loudly enough for Severus to hear him.

“Did you not get my note, Albus?” Snape asked a bit harshly.

“Indeed I did. But Harry came to see me this evening…” Dumbledore began, noting the momentary look of panic in Snape’s eyes. “He told me that he’s been frantically trying to see you for the past two days. He asked me to check on you.”

“Why that insolent little—” Snape spat angrily.

“Now Severus, he’s extremely worried about you, and if I’m not very much mistaken…he’s quite fond of you,” Dumbledore’s said, his eyes twinkling.

Snape was momentarily shocked by this statement, but said, “Albus, perhaps I should explain…”

But Dumbledore put up his hand, silencing him. “He didn’t volunteer that information by the way, but it wasn’t very difficult to figure out. And there is no need for an explanation, Severus. I believe we have already had this conversation if my old mind is not deceiving me. Harry is of age and your relationship with him would not normally concern me, except perhaps now.”

“What do you mean?”

“You are shutting him out at a time when you might benefit from his presence the most.”

“I don’t need anyone. Besides, any short-lived relationship,” Snape spat at the ugliness of that word, “that Mr. Potter and I may have had is over, so you need not be concerned about him any longer.”

“I’m so sorry to hear that. And I didn’t come here out of concern for Harry, I came because I was concerned about you. And so it seems with good reason. You look quite pale Severus – have you been eating at all?” Dumbledore didn’t wait for the answer. He snapped his fingers and a house elf appeared next to him. “Please bring Professor Snape something to eat – an assortment of sandwiches, soup and tea for two please.” With that the house elf nodded and disappeared.

Snape opened his mouth to speak, but Dumbledore interrupted him. “Don’t argue with me Severus. You know you won’t win.” Dumbledore’s eyes gleamed.

“You look quite unsteady on your feet, my boy. Come sit down.” Dumbledore looked over at a chair in the corner with a mild grimace, pointed his wand at it and wordlessly transfigured it into a very comfortable couch, complete with a full ottoman. Red and gold pillows and blankets appeared as well. The couch looked more like a bed than anything else. Snape looked quite annoyed.

Noting his expression, Dumbledore said, “My apologies, Severus. I was forgetting myself,” and pointed his wand again at the pillows and blankets. Their colors changed to Slytherin green and silver. “There. That’s better isn’t it?” he asked with a smile. But Snape did not seem to think so. Dumbledore sat down, looking quite pleased with himself. The house elf reappeared with the food and Dumbledore spoke again: “Make sure Professor Snape is brought breakfast, lunch, and dinner to his quarters for the next two days. He will be dining in.” With that, the elf disappeared.

“Please come and sit down, Severus,” Dumbledore said, motioning next to him, as he began pouring tea and arranging a plate of food for his Potions Master. Snape moved slowly, trying to hide his limp as well as the distinct discomfort he felt as he sat down. He adjusted himself a few times, but gratefully Dumbledore appeared not to notice. Or so he thought.

“Are you ever planning on seeing Poppy about that leg?”

“It’s fine. The last thing I need is Poppy fussing over me.”

“Don’t be silly.”

“I’m taking care of it,” Snape insisted.

“And the rest of your injuries,” Dumbledore asked gently, “are you taking care of them as well?”

Snape wondered for a moment if Dumbledore knew, but huffed silently at his own question. Of course he knows! Damn it.

“Eat,” Dumbledore commanded.

Although he wasn’t feeling very hungry, Snape ate, trying to appease Dumbledore, who sat there smiling at him as he drank his tea. The house elf had also brought some pumpkin cream puffs for the Headmaster, and he looked quite pleased at this. Dumbledore began an exhaustive account of the events that Snape had missed over the past two days – the various desserts that the house elves had served at dinner, a prank the Gryffindor Quidditch team (excluding Harry) had played on the Ravenclaw team, and the incessant arguments between Professors Trelawney and McGonagall about one thing or another.

After he finished, Snape spoke. “Thank you Headmaster for that positively riveting account of events. And for the food and tea.”

“Not a problem my boy.” Dumbledore noticed Snape glancing over at the entrance to his quarters and continued kindly, “I’m not planning on leaving any time soon Severus, so you may refrain from looking at the door, unless you’d like to go for a walk with me – to the hospital wing perhaps.”

“Albus—”

“Will you tell me what happened, Severus?” Dumbledore asked gently, and felt Snape’s whole body stiffen sharply in response to his question.

After a momentary silence, Snape spoke softly, “He was…displeased that I had failed yet again to deliver Potter to him. His anger is never pleasant,” he said, quickly adding, “but I knew that going in.”

“Do you think he knows your true loyalty?”

“If he did, he would have killed me immediately. He suspects most likely, but he is obviously not certain. Either that, or he thinks I can still be of some use to him.”

“I fear that I cannot in all good conscience let you go back there,” Dumbledore said slowly.

Snape’s eyes went wide and he spoke urgently: “I must go back. As long as I can be of some service, however insignificant to the Order, I shall go. I have to go!”

“Severus—”

“Albus, don’t do this to me, please,” Snape said, almost begging now.

Dumbledore studied him carefully. He knew Severus needed this. To feel useful. Dumbledore relented. For now let his self-worth be measured this way. Perhaps in time… he thought. Dumbledore spoke cautiously: “Perhaps if I could be assured of your safety…Why don’t you and I think on this a while Severus and we can decide before you are next called. How long do you think we have?”

“It’s hard to say, but probably not too long – a couple of weeks given his pattern. He’ll want to see my remorse after having given me a chance to reflect on my loyalties,” Severus said with hatred in his eyes.

“Severus, you know you are worth more than your work as a mere spy for the Order,” Dumbledore reminded him.

“As you say Headmaster,” Snape commented unbelievingly.

“You are worth more to me, my boy.”

Silence.

“Severus, I know you don’t want to speak with me about what happened,” Dumbledore started, noting the panic entering Snape’s normally emotionless expression, “but I can’t ignore it. I, of course, don’t know the details, but I can clearly see the pain that you are in and I don’t mean physically. If you won’t speak with me, then I’d like you to speak to someone else about this.”

“Have you lost your mind Albus? Even if I wanted to speak to someone, which I absolutely do not, who could I possibly speak to that wouldn’t be a security risk to the Order?” Snape asked exasperated.

“I can think of someone, and they would be more than willing, even eager to speak with you,” Dumbledore said encouragingly.

Snape stared at him for a moment “Potter?” he asked unbelievingly. “You have lost your mind.”

“Fine, then speak with me. Why don’t you start by telling me what happened between you and Harry?”

Despite not wanting to discuss this, relief washed over him as he realized he was not asked to speak about the events of two nights ago. Suddenly he realized that Dumbledore had, once again, masterfully conned him into opening up. And Snape was acutely aware that Dumbledore was not going to leave his quarters until he got what he wanted. “Sometimes you can be an insufferable old man Albus,” Snape muttered not unkindly.

Dumbledore winked at Snape. “So you keep reminding me, Severus,” Dumbledore said with fondness.

Sighing, Snape began: “There is nothing to tell. I let it go too far with him, which was my fault. And so I ended it.”

“Harry doesn’t seem to think it’s over. In fact, I had to send him from my office with a dose of Restless Sleep to get the young man into bed. He’s been camped outside your quarters for the better part of two days, you know.”

Snape was momentarily stunned by this, but continued, “He’s a child Albus. He doesn’t know what he wants.” Then shaking his head, he added, “I don’t know what I was thinking.”

“Perhaps you weren’t Severus. Perhaps you were following your heart for once.”

Snape scowled.

“I do love it when you scowl at me that way Severus – that’s your look for ‘I hate it when Albus Dumbledore is right!’ again!” Dumbledore chuckled. “And you know very well Harry is hardly a child. He is far beyond his years and you should give him the benefit of the doubt as to what he wants.”

“Albus please…he’s a…he’s a…Gryffindor!” Snape said, as though he couldn’t find another way to complete that sentence.

Dumbledore began to laugh. “Indeed. You either love us or you hate us.”

Snape began to speak in protest, but Dumbledore held up his hand, stopping him. “I shall send Harry to your quarters tomorrow afternoon and you will speak with him, if only to reassure him that you are not in any eminent danger.”

“Fine, I shall see him. But under no circumstances am I going to discuss this with him Albus. That wretched boy may be having dreams about my life,” he spat, Damn him for that! “but it is none of his business.”

“And your lessons with him?” Dumbledore asked, even though it was not really a question.

“If you want me to continue them Albus, I shall, of course oblige,” Snape said with an air of resignation.

“Excellent then.”

They sat in silence for a few minutes.

He’s waiting for me to say something, thought Snape. He’s not going to get me to say anything. I’m not speaking first. Snape broke his eye contact with Dumbledore and looked down at his feet, a small and unnecessary attempt to guard his mind. He knew Dumbledore would never force himself into his mind, but he felt better having taken the precaution nonetheless.

As the silence continued Snape’s mind began to steer towards the events of two nights ago. Control yourself, he thought. It had been a long time since Snape had last felt the strain and difficulty of maintaining his mental walls that made him a master of Occlumency. He wondered if Dumbledore’s presence was causing this weakening. He had to get Dumbledore to leave – he couldn’t let Dumbledore be near him if his mental shields were lowered. He knew Dumbledore was a superb Legilimens, and he would detect the slightest weakness.

Breaking his earlier promise to himself, he spoke first: “I think now I would like some time alone Albus. Thank you for your visit.”

“After we talk perhaps,” Dumbledore said softly, his tone contradicting his staunch refusal to leave. A few more minutes of silence followed.

Dumbledore broke the silence, speaking gently, “Has this ever happened before, Severus?” Dumbledore’s question, no matter how gently posed, was painful as the lash of a whip.

Snape said nothing for some time, hoping the question would be forgotten, but Dumbledore’s eyes were unrelenting and Snape knew he had to answer.

He took a deep breath, “Not like this. He was…” He stopped, fearing he was about to lose control of his voice. He knew he could not finish.

Dumbledore reached over and placed his hand on top of Severus’s, noticing immediately that the man was trembling.

Snape was nearly undone by this simple gesture. He felt the emotion welling up inside him, threatening to spill over. Although he wasn’t looking at Dumbledore, he felt Albus willing him to continue. But Snape could not speak. He wanted to look up at Dumbledore – to send him his thoughts, but he couldn’t bring himself to look at him. If I look up at you, Snape thought, and I see your eyes filled with the sorrow that I know is there, I will crumble Albus. I couldn’t bear to see that.

“Then don’t look up my boy and go on,” Dumbledore said so softly Snape thought he might have imagined it.

He heard me!

The Headmaster’s mind was completely open, waiting for Snape to continue. Dumbledore had forged such a strong connection between them that Snape could barely hold his thoughts back once he began. He was so much crueler than usual…that’s almost funny isn’t it…that he’s capable of being more cruel. And there were so many of them, and they were laughing as they…as they…He let them all take turns…ALL of them… Oh bloody hell, why am I telling you this?

Dumbledore’s other hand centered itself on Snape’s back and Snape heard the man’s voice clearly in his head saying gently: Let it out child.

Snape couldn’t be sure if it was the additional gesture of affection or the prompting to go on that finally made him break. He was struggling not to cry. He was not going to let that happen – not in front of Dumbledore. He responded the only way he knew how. Angrily, he shot up from the couch, wrenching himself from Dumbledore’s touch and looked directly at him.

“Damn it all to hell! Stop being so God-damned kind! I never wanted you to know Albus. Why must you be such a meddlesome fool? Isn’t it enough that I go to Him for you? Do I have to relive it too? Can’t you just ever leave me alone, old man?”

Dumbledore seemed completely unsurprised by the other man’s outburst. He replied calmly: “Tell me why it was so important that I never know Severus?” There it was – quintessential Dumbledore – ignoring all the extraneous comments and insults and focusing in on the meat of Snape’s outburst.

Snape’s voice became unsteady again and he spoke in a strangled whisper, “I knew you’d never forgive yourself.”

Dumbledore replied, his normally bright eyes looked weary and filled with pain, “You are right about that my dear boy.” Dumbledore was about to continue, but Snape abruptly cut him off.

“This is not your burden to bear. It is mine…I did this!”

“Severus—” Dumbledore started, trying to correct him.

“NO!” Snape interrupted. “I became a Death Eater, I did horrible, wretched things. Things I still have nightmares about. This is the price I must pay. Not YOURS! MINE!” Snape yelled, clenching his teeth in rage.

“My dear child, I won’t waste my time telling you that you’ve long ago atoned for what you did because you will not believe me. Of course those horrors will never fully go away, but that doesn’t mean you’re not allowed to hurt and to feel. You\'re allowed to be the victim Severus.”

“No Albus. You are wrong. Pity is not for people like me…not for Death Eaters.”

“It is not pity Severus, it is sympathy and compassion.”

“Stop it Albus! This is my punishment! And it is no more than I deserve!” Snape said, his body shaking now.

Dumbledore got up slowly, placed his hands on Snape’s shoulders and gently pushed him back down until he was once again seated. He sat beside Snape and forced Snape to meet his gaze.

“My dear boy, listen to me. No one deserves this. No one deserves what you have gone through. One day I hope you will lose this crushing burden of guilt you carry with you. But until then, never forget that you are not alone in this.”

Snape looked down at his feet again, and felt Albus’s hand move on top of his once more. They sat like that for what seemed like an eternity. And oddly enough, Snape was feeling relieved, a strange sensation of calm overcoming him. He wondered momentarily if telling Albus had been a good thing after all. Determined not admit it, however, he quashed that theory in favor of believing Dumbledore was sending him calming emotions through their mental link. Snape was also beginning to feel tired – he had expended quite a bit of energy yelling at the Headmaster. Dumbledore sensed it immediately.

“Now I shall finally grant your earlier request and leave. But not before I see you off to sleep. You need to rest my child,” Dumbledore said, helping Severus lie back and tucking him in under the blankets. Snape was surprised that he was not annoyed at Dumbledore’s ministrations, even though he pretended to be.

“Severus, promise me that you won’t lock yourself down here forever. Start taking more of your meals with the staff again, and promise me you won’t stop coming to see me. You know I enjoy our tea time too much.”

Snape nodded reluctantly. He hated the fact that he had just made that promise, but he also knew he would keep it. He would never break a promise he made to Albus Dumbledore.

“Take this and no arguments,” Dumbledore said producing a vial containing Snape’s own version of Dreamless Draught. Snape didn’t bother arguing at all. He downed the potion in one gulp and laid his head back on the pillow.

Before the deep sleep claimed him, he felt Albus lean down over him, kiss him gently on the forehead and say: “Goodnight my dear Severus.”

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A/N: I hope you like this chapter...it’s one of my favorites

Please review....I\'d like to know if anyone is reading this given the problems with this site....