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 22: Because I know

A single thought played over and over in Harry’s head: Severus Snape is a monster. Harry sat in the middle of his bed, with blankets curled around him and his wand out, ready for Snape to come charging in at any moment. He knew it was probably a ridiculous notion, but being all alone in the tower had caused his mind to dismiss the rational. He had never wished for the Christmas Holidays to be over so soon as he did now. And they had just begun!

Harry’s immediate thought after witnessing the memories was that they were not real – that they had to be false memories Snape had created. But he knew that was impossible. Both memories were long and extremely detailed and there could be no doubt to their authenticity.

As Harry went over the first memory again in his mind, he realized that, on a logical level, it did seem to make sense. Dumbledore had appeared very concerned when Harry had told him he loved Snape. Dumbledore’s response to this revelation was not only to tell Harry to ‘be patient’ and not to ‘push,’ but also to not approach Snape, to keep their relationship ‘professional,’ until Snape said otherwise. And of course, Snape had done just the opposite, probably under direct orders or, more likely, under threat from Dumbledore. This would fit Dumbledore’s methods, using a subtle, surreptitious approach to keep Harry away from Snape without having to reveal too much to Harry. After all, in the memory, Dumbledore did say he wanted Harry’s lessons to continue. And honesty wouldn’t have been a very effective tactic to ensure such an outcome.

Harry mused about how an honest approach might have gone. He imagined Dumbledore telling him, ‘I think you should reevaluate your feelings, my boy. See, I’ve recently discovered that Professor Snape has a sick fascination with young boys. But don’t worry, I trust him when it comes to Order business, and I want you to continue your lessons with him. There is no need to concern yourself with this matter, Harry. I’ll be keeping an eye on you just in case.’ Harry knew that he would have gone running, and not to Snape. Yes, Harry noted with a sick feeling in his stomach, the memory of Dumbledore’s conversation with Snape did make sense. As for the second memory – Harry couldn’t even bring himself to think about that one again.

But despite all the logical arguments rumbling around in Harry’s brain, there was a part of him that could not accept what he saw. On a deeper level, he felt sure that things really didn’t make sense. He couldn’t reconcile the malevolent side of Snape he had seen in those memories with the Snape he thought he knew – the side of Snape that gleamed, if only momentarily, with pride when Harry did something well in their lessons. He couldn’t help but remember the Snape that had held him – chastely, tenderly – after reliving his disturbing memories of Privet Drive, and yes, the part that touched him – not with lust alone, but with love? Harry snapped himself out of his hopeful thoughts. Perhaps I am the fool Snape said I was. Harry desperately wanted to believe these now fleeting hopes, but he knew they could not be true. He had seen the evidence. And it was damning.

And now sitting here all alone in Gryffindor tower in the middle of the night, he felt afraid. Would Snape come after him now that he had revealed himself? Would he try to bring him to Voldemort? Harry wasn’t sure, but he had seen the depraved glint in Snape’s eyes and the lascivious tone to his voice just before he had fled the dungeons and he certainly didn’t want to wait and find out. He needed to get out of here. He needed to be somewhere safe. Harry didn’t particularly want to see Dumbledore, but he quickly realized that there was no one else he could turn to. And given Dumbledore’s attitude towards Snape in the first memory, Harry knew that at least Dumbledore would believe him about Snape’s deranged behavior.

Harry left the tower and made his way quietly down the hall under his invisibility cloak, his wand pointed unsteadily in front of him. This time he wasn’t using his cloak to prevent being seen out after curfew, but was using it to hide from Snape, whom he worried was lurking in the corridors. When Harry finally reached the stone gargoyle, he began reciting all the passwords he could think of, but the stone bird did not move.

After what seemed like an eternity, Harry threw off his cloak and began to scream, in fear and rage: “Let me in damn it! Let me in, you bloody bird. I need to speak to Dumbledore now!” Harry was beginning to hyperventilate. As he continued screaming at the unmoving stone, he thought he heard a noise behind him, and spun around. But he saw nothing. He was beginning to feel dizzy. Overwhelmed with anxiety, he slid his back down the wall and cradled himself, his wand still outstretched. He couldn’t quite catch his breath – his heart was pounding harder and harder in his chest. He thought it might explode out of his body at any moment. I’m going to die, he thought. And suddenly, he felt strong hands grasping him – pulling him off the floor. It’s Snape, he’s come to get me, Harry thought. He tried to cast a disarming spell, but it seemed he no longer had his wand. It’s over now, he thought, and closed his eyes.

And then, without warning, Harry became completely numb. There was no more fear, no more panic, no more anything. He opened his eyes and found himself seated on the comfortable red couch in Dumbledore’s sitting room, situated behind his office. Dumbledore was staring at him, concern etched in his face.

“You seem to have had a panic attack, Harry. I found you outside my office in quite a state. I apologize, but I felt it wise to cast an anti-emotion spell on you. It is only temporary, I assure you. Is this making sense, my boy?”

Harry spoke with a logic of mind he had never quite experienced before, “Yes, Professor. It makes perfect sense. Thank you. I came to see you tonight because I feared for my safety. There is something very important I need to speak with you about.”

“Very well, Harry. I assure you, you are completely safe with me. Would you like me to remove the spell now?”

“Yes. Thank you.”

Dumbledore removed the spell, and Harry felt a spontaneous surge of emotions reenter his mind. He pushed them back as best he could and began to tell Dumbledore about the horrors Snape had revealed to him. But he hesitated.

“Snape showed me what you said to him in his office…about not trusting him…with me, because of…you know…” Harry paused but Dumbledore made no effort at a response. “And then he showed me something else…something I think you ought to know.” Harry gulped.

Still, no response came from the Headmaster.

“It was a meeting with Voldemort. He was…it was horrible…” Harry couldn’t go on. He would have to tell Dumbledore the content eventually, of course, but not a moment before he was forced to. “I begged him to stop showing me, but he wouldn’t. And afterwards he was so…crazy…like he was going to…to…” Harry took a deep breath. “I didn’t know where else to go.”

Finally there was a reaction from Dumbledore, but it was not at all what Harry had expected. There was no anger or urgency in his face. He looked sad and defeated. Harry was sure he saw Dumbledore’s eyes brimming with tears.

“I knew Severus was lost, but not like this,” Dumbledore said, his voice cracking. Another long moment passed, and Dumbledore turned his attentions to Harry, his voice suddenly stronger. “Harry, listen to me, child. None of it is true. Severus is not the monster you think he is. It is not so.”

Harry protested. Clearly Dumbledore didn’t understand what he had just heard. “But sir, it is. I saw it, both memories. They were real.”

“Not precisely.”

“They were false memories? But how—”

“No, Harry. The memories were indeed real. Please let me explain. The first memory you witnessed did happen. I did have that exact conversation in Severus’s office with him, but it was staged. We planned it in advance, so that Severus would have a memory to show Voldemort when he was called back. We needed a memory that would explain why he wasn’t able to deliver you to him. We came up with the idea of my accusing Severus of having…inappropriate feelings towards young boys, thus creating an excuse he could give Voldemort for my sudden insistence on observing him during his lessons with you. Apparently Severus felt that Voldemort would easily believe this. Do you understand me, Harry?”

“Yes…yes…that makes sense.” Relief was beginning to wash over Harry at this news. That is until he remembered the second memory. “But…so what about the second memory?”

Dumbledore sighed. His voice was filled with sadness as he spoke, “I was not present, of course, but from the little you told me, I imagine that that memory is indeed real, Harry. It did happen. Severus’s role as a spy forces him to do many…unpleasant things.”

So that was all part of his spy role? Yes, of course that was a perfectly reasonable explanation, Harry thought. But…Dumbledore did not see the events between Snape and Voldemort the way he had. He did not see the mad, licentious gaze Harry saw in Snape’s eyes as he described raping Harry, the boundless pleasure he experienced as Voldemort stroked him to orgasm, or the rapturous expression of devotion on Snape’s face afterwards when he swore his allegiance to his Dark Lord. Harry knew he had to show Dumbledore the memory. He had to let the Headmaster see it for himself – to make him understand what had happened. Only then could Dumbledore make a judgment about Snape’s loyalty – but not a moment before.

And then there was the matter of Snape’s behavior afterwards. He looked deranged – it was as if he were that person, that monster he had seen in the second memory with Voldemort. It seemed to Harry that Snape was confirming that those feelings he expressed to Voldemort were indeed true, as if he planned to rape Harry right then and there.

Just thinking about it was making Harry feel ill again. His head was beginning to spin and he thought he might faint. Dumbledore was at his side immediately.

“Harry, are you feeling unwell? Do you want to go to Madam Pomfrey?”

Terrified at the idea of leaving Dumbledore’s office, Harry shouted, “No! Please don’t send me away!” Ashamed of his fear, he added quickly, “I mean…I’ll be okay…I just need to sit still for a while.”

Dumbledore put a reassuring hand on Harry’s back and began rubbing small gentle circles there. “No one is going to harm you, my child. You do not have to go anywhere. You may stay here as long as you wish to.” After a few minutes, when it seemed to Dumbledore that Harry was more composed, he spoke again. “Harry, I know you’ve been through quite an ordeal tonight, but there is a memory I have that I think will give you some perspective on what you’ve seen. Perhaps you can view it in the morning after you’ve had some rest and—”

But Harry cut Dumbledore off, “No. I need to see it. I need to see everything now. Please.”

“Very well, Harry. But I must warn you. It will not be an easy memory to watch.”

“It can’t possibly be worse than what I’ve seen, Professor.”

Dumbledore sighed, “That is very true, Harry. I would suggest the Pensieve; however, I think it would be best that you don’t get up. If you wish to stop the memory, Harry, simply say so.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Very well then.”


As soon as the memory entered his mind, Harry found himself in the Forbidden Forest and noticed Dumbledore standing there alone. Harry felt Dumbledore’s voice in his head, saying gently, “Harry, this takes place immediately after Severus returns from that Death Eater meeting you, unfortunately, were forced to witness. I am waiting for him. This is not a usual habit of mine, and therefore he is not expecting me, but I was worried he might be injured given the events of his previous encounter with Voldemort.”

“Previous encounter?” Harry asked.

“Yes, this meeting occurred about four weeks ago, Harry. This is the first time he was summoned after the meeting you witnessed in your dream.”

Harry focused his attention on the Forest in front of him.

In the distance, Snape suddenly appears, having Apparated directly from Voldemort’s side. As soon as his feet hit the ground, he drops down to his knees and starts to retch. Dumbledore approaches him rapidly, his wand pointed at Snape, scanning him for injuries.

“Are you hurt, Severus?” Dumbledore queries with concern.

Snape does not seem too surprised to see Dumbledore, but his attention is devoted elsewhere. He manages to shake his head before becoming sick again.

Harry is beginning to feel sick himself, watching this. Dumbledore seems to sense this immediately, because Harry suddenly feels waves of calm and reassurance wash over him, like an invisible mental hug from Dumbledore – steeling him for what he was seeing, for what is about to come.

Snape’s now dry heaving stops abruptly and his eyes go wide in horror, as though he has just remembered something. He frantically starts tearing off his robes, his eyes filled with panic, as though his robes are burning him.

Dumbledore speaks again, his concern quite evident, “Severus, please are you hurt?” Harry notices that Dumbledore is keeping his distance from the hysterical man.

Snape manages, “No, not like that,” but does not pause undressing. As he removes his clothing, Snape is pointing his wand at the newly exposed skin, shouting “Scourgify” frantically, over and over again, until his skin begins to turn red and raw. Snape is nearly naked now, but Harry cannot see his body clearly. Harry realizes that Dumbledore is blurring the image, preserving the man’s modesty – and Harry is glad of it. He watches as Snape tumbles around in the snow half naked, half frozen, his eyes distant and frenzied.

Dumbledore speaks firmly, trying to get Snape’s attention, trying to snap him out of his reverie, “Severus, please!”

Snape snaps his head up and looks up at Dumbledore, as though he has only become aware of his presence. His words are frantic, “Albus, PLEASE help me!” Snape’s eyes bore holes through Dumbledore’s, a silent instruction.

Dumbledore sighs as he raises his wand and casts a silent, but extremely powerful cleansing charm on Snape, who is now enveloped in a cloud of bright golden light. When it dissipates, Snape sighs, and falls into the snow, as though he plans on sleeping there for the night. Tears are running down his face, but he is completely silent.

“Severus, come with me,” Dumbledore says gently.

There is no response from Snape.

“Severus?”

Dumbledore waits a moment, but then moves towards the feeble man, grabs his arm, and suddenly they are gone. Now they are both in Dumbledore’s quarters – Snape remains on the floor with Dumbledore leaning over him.

They Apparated! Inside Hogwarts, Harry thinks. Of course Dumbledore would be able to do that. Harry’s thoughts are confirmed by Dumbledore’s voice, which he hears speaking to him through their connection: “Yes, Harry. And I would appreciate it, if you could keep that little fact to yourself.”

Snape is still unresponsive to Dumbledore. But his eyes betray his utter dejection. Harry feels helpless watching this, but he finally understands. The man he loves is clearly in so much anguish – he is dying inside from what has just transpired with Voldemort. Part of Harry is relieved beyond words to witness this reaction – an affirmation of his disgust at Voldemort and the disturbing fetishistic fantasy he has just played out for him. But another part is impossibly sad and overwhelmed at what Severus has gone through, what he continues to go through – all to keep him and others safe.

Dumbledore reaches down and gathers Snape up off the floor. He easily carries the gaunt man to his bed and removes the rest of Snape’s, now wet, clothing. Snape’s eyes have a glassy appearance and he remains motionless. Harry has never seen Snape like this – normally Snape covers himself with layers of robes and his deadpan expression. Harry has never seen him this unguarded, never this open, never so vulnerable in front of another.

Dumbledore tucks the blankets around Snape and he sits down on the bed beside him and coaxes Snape to drink a potion, which he does without question. Dumbledore then begins gently stroking Snape’s head. “It’s okay, Severus. Everything will be alright, I promise,” he says soothingly.

Harry suddenly finds himself feeling quite envious of Dumbledore. He wants to be the one doing this. He wants to be the one taking care of Severus, tucking him in, reassuring him, whispering words of comfort, words of love in his ear.

Time shifts in the memory, and Harry notices that it is morning. Dumbledore has not moved from Snape’s side. Snape starts awake.

“It’s alright, Severus. You’re safe.”

“Albus…” Snape says, his voice croaking.

“Here, take this,” Dumbledore instructs, presenting another potion which Snape swallows.

“Thank you,” he says, his voice now clearer. After a short moment, he continues, “Go ahead, Albus, look.”

“Severus, it can wait.”

“No! Do it now. There is no point in delaying,” Snape insists adamantly.

Dumbledore sighs, and replies, “If you are sure, my boy.”

Harry watches as Dumbledore removes a single silvery strand from Snape’s temple. Snape sighs audibly with relief once it has been extracted. Dumbledore moves over to the Pensieve and views Snape’s memory of the events that transpired between him and Voldemort that night.

Harry is stunned. You knew? he asks Dumbledore in his thoughts.

Dumbledore replies, Of course, Harry. Severus tells me everything.

As Dumbledore moves to return the memory, his already sad eyes become quite pained as they watch Snape flinch, his eyes refilling with pain as the memory reenters his mind.

Dumbledore speaks, “It seems that he’s more than convinced, Severus…”

“Oh yes. He’s very convinced. It seems I was quite right about our approach to this. You saw how pleased – no, ecstatic,” Snape says with disgust, “he was to hear about my perverse desires for boys…particularly for Harry.”

Harry shivers at Snape’s words.

Dumbledore replies, “Severus, I am very glad that the plan worked and that you were able to successfully fool Voldemort – but do NOT fool yourself now. Those are not your desires, Severus. Do not forget that.”

“They might as well be,” Snape murmurs.

Dumbledore’s voice is firm, almost a reprimand, “Severus, stop that immediately! This is me you are talking to here. You cannot fool me. I know very well that you’ve never had sexual feelings for Harry before this term. And you know very well he is of age. And I most certainly know you would never force yourself on him – far from it, in fact. You’re forcing him away from you. What are you trying to do, Severus?”

“I’m protecting him, Albus,” Snape almost whimpers.

“What exactly are you protecting him from?”

Snape replies in an unsteady whisper, “From me, Albus. From my…my sick…” Snape stops abruptly, his voice cracking on his last words.

Dumbledore sits back down on the bed next to Snape, taking his hand in his own. With his other hand, he moves a finger under Snape’s chin, forcing him to meet his eyes.

“Severus, you are not the monster you pretend to be. I realize that in order to convince Voldemort of your loyalty, you must go deeper into your role as a spy than anyone else could possibly handle or begin to imagine. But do not ever forget that THAT is not who you are, my boy.”

With a pronounced look of torment and anguish on his face, Snape speaks in a strangled, hoarse sob, “How can you be so sure, Albus?”

Hearing these desperate words, Dumbledore pulls Snape close to him, and holds him in his arms, rocking him gently. He whispers, “Because I know, my dear boy. I know.”


As soon as the memory ended and Harry had once again regained control over his body, all of his restrained emotions began spilling out. He sank onto the floor, his back against the couch, and started sobbing uncontrollably. He cried at the realization that the place he thought was broken inside him, was now mended, filled with sympathy and awe for the man he loved. Awe at the enormity of the work he did for the Order, sympathy for the anguish it caused him. He realized that he could not even begin to comprehend it.

A part of Harry was angry at Snape for putting him through this – but at that very moment, it was a small part, because Harry understood. Snape was trying to protect Harry from the monster that Snape believes himself to be. The man is selfless beyond words and yet he thinks he’s evil. It was unfathomable.

Dumbledore seemed to understand the reason for his tears, because he simply patted Harry gently on the back, and said, “I know, Harry.”

After a few minutes, Dumbledore leaned over, and helped Harry back onto the couch, which he had transfigured into a twin bed. “We can talk more tomorrow, Harry. Right now, you need to get some rest.”

Harry nodded and barely had time to get himself settled before falling fast asleep.

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A/N: Thanks to everyone who is reviewing. It’s nice to know people are reading. I hope you are enjoying the twist and turns.
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