Ashes of Armageddon

The following morning, Severus awoke rested. He stretched out on the bed blissfully – and then, he remembered where he was, and why, and instantaneously the feeling of dread set in. For a few minutes, he remained in bed, grabbing fistfuls of sheets in his hands, attempting to calm himself. It took a few minutes – but he got his emotions under control, and proceeded to get up, shower, get dressed, and finally, emerged from the bedroom into the hallway. He stood for a minute, surveying the place of his imprisonment – a simple second floor that contained the three bedrooms, his, Harry's, and a spare one, as well.



The hallway had old photographs hanging on the walls. Severus looked at them with sadness. Among other photographs, he saw an old, battered photograph of the original members of the Order of Phoenix, and found himself drawn to it instantly. He saw the faces of Alice and Frank, Mad-Eye Moody, the much younger Remus Lupin, Sirius Black, and then, his heart clenched in his chest at the sight of the images of Lily and James. James looked young, serene and untroubled. And Lily... Severus felt as if he had forgotten how to breathe when he saw her eyes, as if looking at him across the decades of guilt and regret. He lifted his hand timidly and reached out to touch her smiling face, as his fingers connected with the glass, protecting the old, fragile paper of the photograph. He stood there for a minute or two, his fingers barely brushing against the thin barrier separating his flesh from the image of Lily.



“Severus,” he heard Harry's measured, calm voice behind his back. “Please don't do that.”



He withdrew his hand instantly, as if he had been burned.



“My apologies, Mr. Potter,” he said simply.



The corner of Harry's mouth twitched slightly. “Come with me, please.”



It did not occur to Severus to argue. He followed his young owner downstairs, into his study. Harry sat at this desk, and motioned for Severus to stand next to it. Opening the drawer, Harry produced a thick, heavy wooden ruler and laid it on the desk.



“Extend your hand to me, please.”



Understanding his intent, Severus complied instantly, stretching forth his hand without objection.



Harry looked up at him with a cold expression on his face. “Tell me, do you think you deserve to be touching anything of my parents? Especially, my mother?”



His self-loathing was back in full strength, and Severus answered, with absolute sincerity, and without a trace of sarcasm, or even resentment:



“No, Mr. Potter. I do not.”



Harry gave him a curt nod. “See that it does not happen again.”



Severus grit his teeth as the flat edge of the ruler struck against his hand, leaving a deep red print on his skin. Harry surveyed the print with satisfaction, and increased the strength of the blows slightly, making them fall on the fingers, the knuckles, the back of the hand, and even the wrist. The few times that the ruler turned to the side, the thin edge stuck harshly against the bone, but Severus endured the entire chastisement without flinching away, or uttering a single sound.



Harry set the ruler aside, and looked up at Severus thoughtfully. “Tell me,” he said coolly. “Will this happen again?”



He felt a lump in his throat. “No, Mr. Potter,” Severus answered, surprising that he was able to keep his voice from breaking, if only just barely. “It will not.”



“Good,” Harry said with a small smile.



Severus lowered his brutalized hand, resisting the urge to cradle it.



“Now,” Harry continued impassively, as if nothing had happened. “I have arranged for Ron to take you to Spinner's End this morning, to collect your belongings. You may bring any books, clothing, or sentimental items you wish. However, needless to say, I permit no wands, no magical artifacts of any kind, and no potions ingredients, or equipment. Is that clear?”



“Completely,” Severus managed to say.



“Also, I have been invited to dinner with Ron and Hermione this evening. I have made tentative plans for them to take you to their place, and I will join you there after finishing work today. However, if you do not want to spend time with them, I will simply have them drop you off here, after your possessions are picked up. What is your preference?”



Severus did not want to show how deliriously, madly happy he was at the prospect of some – any human contact, other than Harry Potter. So he kept his face expressionless, and simply answered:



“The current plan is acceptable, Mr. Potter.”



“Good,” Harry said standing up. “Ron will be here in a couple of hours, give or take. I will see you in the evening.”



Harry left promptly, and as soon as he was gone, Severus walked into the bathroom, and stuck his hand under a stream of cold water, issuing a sigh of relief. The ruler had broken the skin in two places, although not deeply, and some bruising was beginning to show. And then, as his entire hand went blissfully numb, he choked down a single, tearless sob – not at the pain he had just endured, but at the reason for it.



He stood for a good hour, at least, without moving, just holding his hand under the flowing water, his mind as benumbed and frozen as his flesh. The ringing of the doorbell brought him out of his stupor. He turned the water off, dried his hand, and went to open the door.



He saw, to his mild surprise, not Ron Weasley, but Hermione Granger, at the doorstep, smiling at him cautiously.



“Good morning,” he managed to say. “I was under the impression...”



With a quick nod, she pointed to her side, and Severus saw a familiar car in the driveway, the Weasley flying car, no less. The same car that Ron and Harry had crushed into the Whomping Willow years ago.



She smiled a little, indicating that the same memory crossed her mind as well. “I promise, we'll be more careful this time,” she said. “I'll be driving myself.”



“That's very reassuring,” he told her wryly.



She led him to the car, and he saw Ron Weasley sitting in the back seat, holding a small, towheaded boy in his lap.



“You remember Ron, I am sure,” she said. “And this is our son, Hugo.”



Ron lifted the boy up. “Say hello to Professor Severus Snape, Hugo,” Ron admonished.



The boy, no older than four years of age, looked up and said in a small, but clear voice: “Hello, Professor Severus Snape.”



Severus was taken aback for a brief second by the boy's absolutely perfect diction. “Hello, Hugo,” he answered softly. “How old are you?”



“I am four,” the precocious boy said with pride. “How old are you?”



“Hugo!” Ron whispered. “That's not polite!”



Hugo pointed his finger at Severus instantly. “He started it!”



And Severus found himself laughing softly, amazed at how wonderful it felt to do so. “That's quite alright, Mr. Weasley. I am forty-three years old.”



Hugo absorbed the information solemnly. “I can't count that high. You must be old.”



Ron groaned and covered Hugo's mouth with his palm.



“Shall we go?” Hermione said awkwardly, sounding slightly mortified.



Severus issued an amused chuckle, and climbed into the front seat of the car with her.



She turned the invisibility on, before lifting off. Severus sat next to her, once more, amazed at how normal things appeared to be... on the surface. Too bad Albus did not set me up with these two, he thought suddenly. Harry Potter was not the only one who had changed – his two best friends have grown, matured beyond what he ever thought possible, and apparently, set aside the old prejudices.



He cast a sideways glance at Hermione, and noticed that she was looking at him as well.



“I was wondering if you can tell me something,” he said quietly. “I would like to know who died in the war... on our side.”



“You don't know?!” she exclaimed.



He shook his head.



“Well...” she murmured apologetically. “Remus Lupin. Nymphadora Tonks. Fred Weasley. Remember the boy with the camera, Colin? He died as well. Some others, too...” She proceeded to recite a list of casualties from memory, and then, she also recited a list of Slytherin students who had died fighting for Voldemort. Severus listened, every name leaving a void within.



“So many,” he murmured.



“Too many,” she agreed.



“And Nymphadora...”



She sighed regretfully. “You were close to her?”



“Somewhat,” he said. “I wasn't close to anyone, given my position, but... she is... or rather, was, my godson's cousin. By the way, Draco?”



“He is fine,” Hermione said quickly. “They are all fine. Narcissa saved Harry's life, you know, so they did not go to Azkaban or anything. After the war, Draco went overseas to continue his studies. Last I heard, he obtained an apprenticeship at Durmstrang.”



“Ah,” Severus murmured with slight disapproval. “The best school for Dark Arts, naturally.”



“Yes,” Hermione confirmed. “Though his apprenticeship is in Potions.”



Severus found himself smiling again, if only slightly. Perhaps the sacrifices of the past decade have not been completely wasted.



She saw his expression and her own face stiffened slightly. “Life isn't as it used to be,” she murmured softly. “Things are not ... well. The Ministry is changing. The entire wizarding world is changing again. Harry... the way he is now... is not helping things. He revamped the entire Ministry to maximize his own power... brought the Dementors back to Azkaban, as I am certain you had the opportunity to notice.”



“I see,” he said quietly. “By the way, whatever happened to Ginny Weasley?”



Hermione froze instantly, her hands clutching the wheel of the car. “We don't actually know what happened between them,” she said quietly. “They got married soon after the war. She never spoke to any of us about any problems, but she began to withdraw more and more over the last couple of years. Two months ago, she just took off. Took their son, took Kreacher, and left.. we haven't heard from her since. She left a note, saying she didn't want to have anything to do with anyone who knows, or ever knew Harry....”



Severus felt a tremor go through his entire body. That did not sound good. “How old was their son?”



“Six months old,” Hermione murmured. “They named him Albus Sirius...”



Severus raised an eyebrow. “I would have expected him to name his first-born James.”





“We all did,” Hermione agreed. “But he really missed Dumbledore. To the point of obsession, almost.”



Severus bowed his head. That revelation did not bode well for him, in view of his situation.



The car landed by the riverbank. Hermione turned the invisibility off, and asked Ron:



“Do you want to wait here, or come with us?”



“We'll wait here,” Ron said, danging Hugo on his knee. “You two go on.”



“We won't be too long,” Hermione said. She opened the trunk, and pulled out a large suitcase on wheels, and then, she and Severus walked together, through the littered, sunlit street, passing the row of nearly identical brick houses.



They were heading towards his old home.



... To Be Continued....