Forgiveness

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This chapter was proofed by Jilliane. Thanks for fixing my rampant commafication.

Chapter 25

Were it up to Severus, he would have opted to stay at the compound while the children visited the Dance homestead. It, however, was not up to him. His twelve-year-old daughter who now sat opposite him in the dining room of said homestead had made the fact abundantly clear.

She looked up from the book before her. "Daddy, I hope you like what I got you for Christmas. It's something you can use and not in the lab."

She kicked her feet, squirming against he pull of the velvet-like fabric of the chair. Severus, not having been the recipient of broad hints issued by pre-pubescent females ever, remained silent. He and Lily had never exchanged gifts. He insisted on the tradition because of his own penury, she because she had no idea what to buy for a boy. Both had been quite content with the situation.

"It's more of a bathroom thing." She finally said. "Not the gross kind, you know. It's just, well... I don't want to give it away."

Stella squirmed again, flicking her hair out of her eyes, and nearly sending her glasses, silver-framed ovals, flying. Severus cautioned, "Stella, be mindful of your glasses. I shall not be able to afford a new pair for some time."

The statement was not strictly true. He had gone to Heppintaints in Meridian only a few days before Christmas and had seen with his own eyes, the contents of the vault. The goblins and half-goblins that ran the branch had not been pleased with his insistence, but insist he did. His vault was a moderately sized one and was full of neatly stacked, newly minted U.S. dollars. Severus had nodded and turned to the neat stack of books, the remainder of Dumbledore's stores from the old man's vault at Gringotts. He took those with him, still mindful of the necessity of maintaining a budget. The children would neither be spoiled as Lucius had spoiled his son, nor would they suffer from lack as he had. He had decided on taking the middle road with them, providing Stella with an allowance and Joseph with a stipend in addition to his income from the owl-order Potions business he still maintained.

"I love you, Daddy." Stella said as she pushed her glasses back to position. She looked at him oddly for a moment as he continued to read the article before him. His gift to Joseph Pony had been a subscription to The American Potioneer. The boy had read it already and had marked article he knew to be of particular interest to both Severus and the project.

Stella said after moments of accusatory silence, "You never say it back to me. It's important for a girl to hear once in a while."

"Stella." Severus frowned, replacing the marker on the page to which he had read. "In my own inimical way, I do express the sentiment to you. Please do not expect the words to come trippingly off my tongue."

Pansy entered from the kitchen, her arms laden with a blue, crockery bowl of cookie dough and her wand twitching several articles behind her. "Don't worry about him saying anything, darling. He's a man. He doesn't possess the verbal skills to do it correctly."

Severus sneered at the former Miss Parkinson. "Thank you for your help, Madam."

"No problem, Severus." Pansy placed the bowl on the table and flicked the other articles to the table. "I wonder who would like to help me make some sugar cookies? Isn’t it odd what these Americans call biscuits, Severus? Cookies.”

She arranged a large plastic square on the tabletop and placed various coloured sugars around it. Severus sneered once more. "I was unaware that you knew how to labour as a house-elf might."

"Ooh, Daddy, you better not let Mari hear you say that," Stella whispered. "She would expect a big gift for that."

"The correct term is bribe, darling," Pansy said. "And I think your Daddy knows more about those than most. Isn't that right, Severus? Father always said it was how you kept from going to Azkaban. "

"Madam, that will be enough." Severus jerked away from the table his voice rising as he upset her careful arrangement of sugars and flour with the swift motion.

Pansy's blue eyes glittered with malice as she turned her eyes on her project. Blaise stuck his head into the dining area. "Pansy! Do you need to rest?"

The woman's expression crumbled as she looked at her husband and then at both Severus and Stella. She began crying in heaving sobs and uttering unintelligible apologies. Zabini took her away from the room as Stella stared after the couple, wide-eyed.

The girl said, "Don't be mad at her, Daddy. She doesn't know any better sometimes."

Severus scowled, attempting to get his anger to a manageable level before addressing his daughter. He took his seat once more and ran his hand over the smooth surface of his trousers, charcoal-grey, lamb’s wool that he had purchased in honour of the season's festive mood.

Stella fingered the plain, red-checked tablecloth. "Daddy, help me with the cookies, that way Miss Pansy won't feel so bad about what just happened."

Severus turned his attention back to the book until Stella plucked it from his hands. "Come on, Daddy, it'll be fun."

&*&*&

From the Diary of Blaise Zabini, sixth year

Fucking Snape and his fucking duty. I wish I had never taken this job on. I don't want to be a spy anymore and I don't want to give up anything for anyone... Now what does Malfoy want?

Okay, I'm back and I really need to get over what just happened. I know I'm not being very objective about it. It's just that Snape, the monk, told me to cut off a friendship with the Weaslette. I understand his reasoning, but I don't have to like it.

It started a little over a fortnight ago. I was in dungeons between classes and I heard a scuffle down one of the unused halls, the ones the older boys use to get their girls alone. I thought nothing of it, until I heard a girl scream. Here I am, a scrawny sixth year who is supposed to be minding his own business, and I start running towards the screams. I saw the Weaslette being pushed into the corner of the hall by two seventh years, Marcus Hudson from Slytherin and a Hufflepuff named Pradesh.

The Indian boy had the Weaslette by her hair, forcing her head down as Marcus held her arms behind her. I saw her wand in my path and I bent to pick it up, when I heard Pradesh retching and Hudson wheezing. The Weaslette said, "I grew up with six brothers. I think I know how to handle to great arses like you."

I cast an Immobilus Charm, and the two on the floor ceased moving.

I heard her spit and I looked up to see her face. It was covered in blood from her nose and her hair was half-down from where Pradesh had pulled it. She strode up to me. "I suppose you were going to join in?"

I held out her wand to her. "Hurting women has never been a particular passion of mine."

"Bloody hell." Weasley rubbed her nose while plucking her wand from my grasp. "That hurts. Fred and George never told me a Glasgow Kiss would hurt me so much."

“I’m surprised they didn’t mention it,” I said in the driest tone I could. “I think you’re supposed to use the top of your head, not your face for an effective head butt. It still hurts, there’s just not as much of your own blood involved.”

I flipped out the ever-present square of linen, a must for all Slytherins who were more prone to be attacked by the other Houses. She took it and smeared the blood from one area to another. I took it back and wiped it expertly from her face. I had my share of fixing first and second years up after spats in the hallways. "Let's get you out of here."

"What about them?" the Weaslette asked.

I took her arm, trying to get her to leave the area before I cast the Patronus to alert Professor Snape to their whereabouts. "They'll be taken care of, don't you worry."

She pulled away. "Yeah, right, you Slytherins stick together."

"You wound me, Weasley. I would never do something so Gryffindorish," I said, trying to lighten the mood. "I shall alert Professors Snape and Flitwick. They will decide the appropriate punishment

"Who died and made you Head Boy?" She stopped suddenly, making me almost step on her heels. She moved away from me, toward the main hall of the dungeons. "Give them a trouncing for me, Zabini."

After she left, I alerted Snape and the two boys were made to wish they had never been born. Snape wouldn't tell me what he did, but Pradesh wasn't in the halls for several days, and Hudson left Hogwarts right after.

The Weaslette and I started meeting after that to study. I would see her in the hallways and she would give a wave, of course where no one could see, and I would wave back just as surreptitiously. I found out that she was more than what we assumed, better somehow. I think I was half in love with her by the end of the first week. I have to admit, during some of our study sessions, the only subject we really covered was snogging. Not that I minded. I had always thought the Weaslette was the best of the clan, behind her brother Percival, and had admired her since second year.

Snape found us in the library in a corner snogging madly. He pulled me into his office the next day, and was almost apologetic when he told me to call things off with Weasley. He told me I had to consider my position as a spy and my usefulness to Slytherin if I was seen consorting with the so-called enemy. I knew he was right, but I still hated him for it.

So, tonight I confronted her in front of Draco and his crew. I teased her about her tattered robes and her blood-traitor family. I was ready for her anger; I was ready for her Hexes. I was unprepared for her almost tearful silence. I watched her leave as Malfoy and his cronies patted me on the back. I hate being a spy, but I'm committed to it more fully now. I have to be so someday I can let the Weaslette know I never really meant to make her cry.

&*&*&

Severus sat on the couch in front of the Christmas tree in the darkened living room. Antonia was huddled under a blanket, her feet in his lap as he stroked them absently. They were the last up and probably would be the first to wake.

Antonia shifted her eyes drooping as he moved up her feet to her ankles.

"Severus," she whispered.

He paused in his progression, a small smile playing on his lips at the sound of her throaty exhalation. "What is it, my dear?"

"Tomorrow, my aunt and her family will be here." She shifted once more, her expression clouding as she added, "They aren't like my father. They know Mama is a witch, but they are all a little closed-minded about us."

"I see." Severus sighed, wishing with all his might that he had stayed at the compound. It had been the same at Lily's home during holidays. Lily had told him on several occasions that her mother's sister had been quite put out by Lily's accidental magic.

He ran a finger over the arch of Antonia's foot. "I suppose I shall have to tell the children and the Zabinis to be circumspect tomorrow."

"You're lucky I'm not ticklish. I have my feet in a very bad spot for you." Antonia wiggled her toes in his hand. "If I had known they would be here beforehand, I would have suggested we stay at the compound."

Severus slanted a quick smirk her way. "I suspect I would have taken you up on the offer. Mari would be more than happy to have cooked dinner for us all."

“Gaius is coming in tomorrow morning.” Antonia said.

Severus suppressed a grimace as he reached into his waistcoat pocket, pulling out a small, velvet covered box. "I should like to present you with your gift tonight in light of the guests tomorrow."

"It's magical or naughty?" Antonia asked her eyes suddenly less drowsy and her hands in the air.

Severus stood letting her feet fall to the couch. He attempted to get on bended knee, but the loud report of cracking tendons sent the woman into a fit of laughter. "Don't do that, sweetheart; you’ll wake up the whole house."

She sat up straighter, patting the seat next to her as Severus flipped the lid open on the box. Nestled in a layer of silk was the ring, which Aberforth had included in his letter. Severus perched on the seat next to Antonia who had fallen silent. The emerald and gold glittered in the light from the tree.

He attempted to swallow over the large and rather daunting lump of fear in his throat before he said, "I should like to ask if you would consent to be my wife."

Antonia shifted until she sat against him. “Are you ready for this, Severus? I mean… Hell, I don’t know what I mean. We don’t really know each other all that well and you don’t know...”

Antonia looked away from him, her face drawn into a scowl as she seemingly became involved in the homely decorations on the tree. Severus braced himself for her inevitable rebuff, feeling the acid of his inferiority building in his gut. She drew a breath and then leaned against him, curling into a little ball under his arm. “You don’t know everything about me and my relationship with Thierry.”

“Antonia,” Severus began but was silenced by her lips against his.

She drew away. “I don’t want you to think my answer will be anything but ‘yes’, Severus. I do think we have something between us, even if you don’t call it love. I hope one day you will. I just want you to know that I’m… damaged goods as far as the relationship world goes.”

Severus laughed darkly as he pulled away from her, his heart hammering in his chest painfully. “What do you think you could have done that would diminish my esteem for you? Do you realise whose mark I carry? If you have a stain on your soul, mine is black. Please, Antonia, spare me the theatrics. If you do not want to marry me… ”

“Gods, Severus. Just sit back.” Antonia touched him in a placating gesture. “Okay, I don’t know your entire history and you don’t know mine. I just think you need to know that you aren’t the only one that… has had more than a passing brush with Darkness.”

Severus settled back against the seat as Antonia stroked his hand. She began haltingly. “Thierry and I met in College during the early eighties. His family supported Voldemort. He told me he came here to get away from them. They were pureblood and elitist and… you know the type, I’m sure.

“I was attracted to him because he was everything that I’m not. He was handsome, charming and debonair and I was just…” Antonia flicked her hands to highlight her supposed shortcomings. “He taught me Curses, he said to protect myself, but they were Dark. I loved him absolutely and never questioned what he said. By the time we graduated, I would have done anything he told me to do magically or otherwise.

“We both studied Healing in England; you remember I told you I was doing an internship for both medicine and Healing? He was too. When we graduated, we were both heavily recruited by several organizations. We decided to work for WHO. Our first assignments were… tough, but we felt we were doing great good. When the civil war broke out between the Hutu and Tutsi, we volunteered.”

Antonia began picking at the bits of balled fluff on the fleecy blanket that covered her. “Things there were horrible. The wounds we treated were beyond comprehension. Thierry and I fought all the time; we were too exhausted to sleep, and when we did, we saw what had been done to those poor people.

“It was toward the end of our assignment that I sensed a shift in Thierry’s outlook. He had a particularly bad case— a little girl, maybe three years old, who had been raped repeatedly over a week. Her family was magical and had been targeted by the Hutus. The mother brought her in and Thierry had to tell her that there was nothing that could be done for her daughter. She screamed…” Antonia paused in her narrative as if overcome by the memory.

Severus remained still as he remembered his own visions of horror during the damnable war in which he fought.

After a moment, Antonia continued, “When the assignment was over, we left. I tried to heal the rift that was forming between us but I think I knew even then, that Thierry had undergone some fundamental change. He seemed as if he were on a precipice, looking over the edge trying to decide whether to jump or not.

“That was when WHO asked for volunteers to go to England. Thierry accepted for both of us, and like I said, I would have done anything he wanted. I didn’t realise he had an agenda until we got to England. He would disappear at odd times; when he returned he would be so cold and distant. I told myself he was just going through the same thing I was, and he was getting used to being back in Europe, back home.

“The night before the Final Battle, he went out after we fought over his frequent absences. I was sure he was cheating and he called me a stupid Hybrid. He returned just our team was preparing to Apparate to Hogwarts. He was different, almost happy about the battle, but I didn’t give it any thought, until we got there and he told me why he had returned.” Antonia twisted her fingers together in a painful expression of her mental state. “I didn’t kill him because he had been injured, that was just a story I fabricated so everybody could remember the good that he did, rather than the Mark he had taken just the night before. I killed him because he was going to fight for them. He was going to fight children. He had turned into what he hated, and I couldn’t live with that.”

As Antonia’s narrative ceased, Severus took her in his arms. She stiffened and then relaxed into his embrace. She drew a shuddering breath as he began stroking her back, circling her in his embrace. “Severus, I know I told you I didn’t need to know your secrets, but can you answer one question for me?”

He kissed her brow, steeling himself against the necessity of baring his soul to another person. It left him feeling more exposed than he had ever felt before either the Dark Lord or Albus. “I shall try.”

“Why would anyone want to join someone who stood for such evil?”

&*&*&

November 4, 1981: that was the date Severus set for Severus’ trial. It was the fourth day of his half-life after Lily’s death.

He could not even think her name without the tearing sensation where his heart used to be. He had thought the pain of losing her the first time was unbearable. He still missed her smile and her wit. Now, knowing that he was the author of her death…

Severus rolled onto his side wishing for the thousandth time that Dementors were allowed in this section of Azkaban so that he might find an escape to the pain that threatened to consume him. It was worse than the most deftly administered Cruciatus Curse.

His swirling thoughts centred on the one thing that had caused the most destruction in his life, thus far: The faulty logic that had led him to become a Death Eater had led, ultimately to his own questionable salvation. He wished...

He wished he were once more eleven and on that first fateful trip to Hogwarts. He wished he were fifteen and could remain silent when Lily had stepped up to defend him. He wished he was seventeen and his mother did not lay dying in a bed, his father did not lay dying in the filth of an alleyway and that he was not stripped and spewing his spunk as the Dark Lord bleated his fallacies and fairy-tales. He wished he were not twenty-one and wasting his first experience with sex on a woman who was already dead, even if she were still drawing breath at the moment he raped her. He wished that no ghostly visitors came to haunt him now that he had rediscovered his heart, the shattered feeling of it in his chest letting him know it was still there. He wished that the Dark Lord had killed him instead of her...

He wished, he wished, he wished...

He wished that Albus had not been so kind to him, even as the Aurors came to take him away for his iniquity. He had never been worth anything to anyone, and he wished now that he could live up to what the old man expected from him. The war was not over, and Severus wished.

&*&*&

Severus spoke to Antonia about his own choice. He spoke in unflinching terms of his decision to join and the role of his mother in that decision. He told her of his hardscrabble youth, the poverty and ugliness of Spinner’s End and the loveless atmosphere in which he was forced to thrive. There was no bid for pity in his telling and Antonia offered none as she sat silent against him, her voice and body still for the first time since he had met her.

He cast his sins before her, the ones he willingly committed in his service to both the Dark Lord and Albus. He kept nothing from her save one name, the name that would condemn him for eternity.

Lily.

The name was an invocation that still had the power to shatter him, sending shards of regret and recrimination deep into his being.

She listened until he ran out of words to describe his atrocities. Then they both sat, silent in the Yule night, listening to the whisper of the household, the soft hiss of the heater as it warmed everything but their souls.

Antonia pulled away from him.

He had expected this from the first time she expressed a romantic interest in him. Even so, it still hurt.

It was almost agony to know that all of this could have been prevented had he made better choices-- had he been a better man. He was surprised to feel the shattered weight of his heart as she stood. Impossibly, it seemed that the pain of losing Lily could be equalled by the withdrawal of the doctor. He did not think he could bear another such heartbreak, and did not think it possible that there could be another for him.

In that moment, he knew that he had fallen in love with the infuriating American who would now leave him. He said, “I shall not make things difficult for you if you wish to end our association.”

“Severus, do me the favour of letting me make up my own mind about you and quit assuming the worst about me.” Antonia turned to him, her position precarious as she slid to the edge of the divan. She added, “I do admit, I need some time to process all you’ve told me, but I’m not breaking things off and I will take that ring from you, if you’re still offering it to me.”

She placed her hand over the fist that held the gold band. “Are you?”

He dared not respond as he opened his fingers and placed the ring in her palm.

She smirked. “I think you’re supposed to slip it on my ring-finger to make it official.”

His eyes swept to her face swiftly and then returned to the glittering hope, which lay in her palm. He did as she asked with a muttered, “Thank you.”

She returned to his side, feet tucked under her and they watched the Christmas tree twinkle merrily. The past was behind them and the future a distant dream. The moment they shared was all that mattered.

&*&*&

Severus cast his Patronus for Albus. The old man turned to watch the silvery doe bound once on the office floor and then soar out of the window. He turned as the glow faded and asked, “After all this time?”

“Always,” said Snape.^


^ From Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, pg 687, US edition.


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