Miles to Go

I tried reposting this on ffnet, but I've given up on their formatting bugs and just decided to post it here T_T

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TITLE: Miles to Go
RATING: PG
SUMMARY: Realisation comes too late, and Albus suffers the consequences.
AUTHOR'S NOTES: This story was written for the Albus Dumbledore/Severus Snape Buggering Bee, part of the Snapledore Carnal Carnival, at http://snapledore.slashcity.net/bee.
CHALLENGE: Albus unwittingly ignores/neglects Severus and must deal with the results.

---

Albus should have noticed the signs. He should have seen it coming a mile away.

He never did learn, did he? As much as Severus never learned not to put too much trust on him, in the end. There's only so much a doddering old man can do, anyway.

_You will still be with me, when I wake?_

A quiet, harmless "yes" to that. What else could he say? He was in a hurry. He had errands to run.

_Promise me?_

Spoken like such a child. Like the young boy Albus never got to know. Not enough.

And Albus had relented so thoughtlessly. To his detriment. To Severus's.

_Yes, Severus. I promise to be here when you wake. Sleep now._

---

Minerva's lips were pursed, a clear mark that she was irritated. She held the door partly open. "Severus wishes to see you, Albus."

Her tone clearly belied her annoyance at having to deliver such a message. Just a few hours ago, Albus had instructed her that he was not to see anyone that day, if it could be helped. It was only a week before start of term, and it seemed as if Albus had twice the work to do than the year before. Voldemort's death had Albus not only taking care of his school, but also keeping an eye on the remaining Death Eater trials. Which were plentiful. And Fudge, in futile attempts to bypass him and his sense of justice, kept scheduling (and rescheduling) the trials at ungodly hours.

He threw a quick glance at the watch beside Fawkes. The hand was getting uncomfortably close to "Rescheduled MacNair Trial."

If Minerva _had_ to open that door, it was probably important. But Albus really did not have enough time...

He gave a small sigh. "Send him in, Minerva. I'll be out in a moment."

His desk was a mess. Two documents were missing. He flipped through the topmost paperwork, trying to find something that he could recall as having been written in blue ink and wrinkled at the edges...

The door creaked open then creaked shut. Quiet footsteps drew nearer. Snape paused in front of the desk, then moved slowly to the opposite chair. Albus looked up and gave Severus a smile of greeting. "Severus. I'm afraid I'll be late for MacNair's trial if I don't hurry, so we don't have much time. Is there something bothering you? I hear from Hagrid that you have not been eating much recently."

There was the slightest bit of hesitation before the younger man answered. "Nothing. I was wondering how you were doing."

He chuckled. It was rare that Severus showed concern so easily. Which probably meant he was covering for something.

"A little tired, but none the worse for wear. Ah! Here it is!" The two pieces of parchment in question were drawn up and placed quickly into the inner pockets of his robes. "I'm afraid I really must hurry, Severus. But we _will_ talk later. You look tired, get some rest for now."

"Yes, Albus."

Severus rose with him and they both headed out the door. With a curt farewell, Severus strode across the hall, and turned left toward the hallway leading to the dungeons.

Without delay, he headed outside. Minerva seemed to be on her way to the staff lounge. As he bid her a quick farewell, she seemed about to ask him something, then changed her mind when she saw him hurrying to leave.

---

The next moment Albus saw Severus was when he attended that unfortunate supper at the Great Hall. And it had started out quite nicely, too.

Severus was quiet, but that was not unusual. He sat, as always, to Albus's left, picking quietly at his food. Albus threw him a disapproving glance and dropped another piece of roast beef unto his plate, which the younger man scowled at.

"Do eat, Severus. The term has almost begun, and you need your strength."

The scowl disappeared. Under Albus's unwavering gaze, he cut off a tiny piece of the meat and put it in his mouth.

The Headmaster didn't look away until he began chewing.

Nothing grave seemed to be bothering the younger man, but Albus had this sense of unease whenever his thoughts strayed to Snape. His instincts had rarely been wrong. Perhaps Minerva might know more? He'll make it a point to ask her later that night, after he'd finished looking over the course outlines...

The conversation to his right penetrated his attention like a slow fire fueled by its need for attention. Before he completely realised what it was about, he glanced at Severus and saw him stiffen slightly in his seat, fork frozen in mid-stab.

"...truly unfortunate, you remember him when he was a student, of course? Oh, no, you weren't here then. I keep forgetting. He was always butting heads with young Arthur," Filius was saying, attention focused primarily on his plate while still speaking to Professor Sinistra. "With all he'd done for the Ministry, you'd think he'd at the very least be entitled to a trial, but no, no, he was executed earlier, at five in the morn. That Fudge needs to be replaced, I tell you, treating people this way. Even if it is Lucius Malfoy."

The stillness at the staff table escaped the notice of the student body, but it was all the same deafening to most of the teachers, who knew enough about Severus. Albus fixed his gaze on Filius, even as McGonagall tried to shush him.

A single chair was pushed back from the table. Albus tried to grasp Severus's hand to keep him from leaving, but the younger man had already stood and was heading to the side door. Albus managed only the barest of touches on the back of his hand.

He didn't spare another second as he stood and followed the younger man out of the Hall. He heard Filius's high, plaintive voice from behind him, talking to Minerva, "Oh! Oh, dear me. I should apologise. It just slipped my mind--!"

It was flattering, in a sense, for Filius to feel comfortable enough around Severus to speak so freely. But Severus would probably never see it that way.

He was sure Severus would be headed back to his rooms Which was why he almost passed him by as he hurried down the corridor leading there.

He backed up a few steps, eyes trained on Severus's unmoving form. The younger man had situated himself haphazardly inside a niche, in front of a knight statue, with one knee raised, the other leg flat on the stone floor. Both his hands lay prone on his sides, eyes looking at the far distance. Like a marionette cut from its strings.

"Severus?" Albus carefully asked, while crouching in front of him. "What's the matter, child?"

The eyebrows furrowed and the lashes dropped close. "Don't call me that," the harsh voice muttered.

Albus felt a small pang of guilt. He knew of Severus's regard for him- -had known about it for years--but he felt on shaky grounds at best with the younger man. Though he cared dearly for him, he had not yet reconciled what exactly he felt for this dark man. A romantic relationship, at his age, never failed to strike him as ridiculous.

When Severus's eyes opened, he was still looking down at the space between him and the Headmaster. "Lucius..." he began, but his voice cracked suspiciously. "You promised me. You said..."

Severus couldn't seem to bring himself to finish the sentence. It was just as well, for Albus knew what he'd said more than twenty years ago, to a desperate young man who would have done--and did--anything to save the precious few he cared for.

_"Lucius, he just had a son...oh Merlin, Draco--" _

_"I will secure the Malfoys and ensure their safety, Severus. You needn't worry. However--"_

_"You promise, then? You'll save them?"_

_A pause. "I will do all I can to save the Malfoys from both the Ministry and Voldemort."_

_"Then yes. Yes. Whatever it is you require. Anything..."_

"I am terribly sorry." He didn't know what else to say. There was no promise made. He'd escaped Wizard's Bond that time.

Severus didn't seem to have heard him. His gaze was locked somewhere else again, as if imagining something far away. "Executed..." he whispered, perhaps to himself. Then he gave a dry chuckle. "I can't see it. I can't. Not Lucius. Not--"

Albus pressed a gentle kiss against the man's forehead. He was familiar with Severus's breakdowns in the past--mostly before Harry Potter was even born. This seemed to be the start of one, though he doubted he could do anything to prevent it.

He wrapped his arms around the younger man even as Severus held on to his robes. The small embrace lasted a few moments, making Albus marvel at how Severus could allow such intimacy to last as long.

As the body he was holding straightened up, he released him and rose to his feet. His proffered hand was ignored as Severus stood, a bit shakily, holding on to the statue behind him for assistance.

The eyes remained downcast. Not ashamed -- simply extremely tired and downtrodden. There was a steely quality there that was often present whenever Albus would so much as try to take Severus's arm companionably...but it seemed, at best, half-hearted.

Trying not to seem imposing, he tipped Severus's chin up, making him look directly at him. "You've been acting oddly the past few days, Severus. What is wrong?"

The Potions master took a small step back. He never did like close proximity. He seemed to be genuinely considering the question rather than ignoring it, as he usually did, whenever Albus inquired. "I don't know myself," he admitted. "I think perhaps that I am just tired."

"Ah." Perhaps Severus desired a year off? He seemed to be constantly suffering from exhaustion, even more so that when he'd been spying. "Let me walk you to your chambers."

They fell into step with ease, though the silence between them was not comfortable.

---

Although Severus made a bit of a fuss when Albus insisted on entering and ensuring that the younger man actually slept, he didn't seem to mind so much when Albus was actually in. As soon as he'd changed into his night shirt, the younger man had fallen fast asleep on the bed, amusing Albus even as worry began to settle more firmly in his mind.

He found Minerva in her office, poring over what looked like the Third Year's curriculum. When he entered, she looked up, deposited her quill in the inkstand, and immediately asked, "How is Severus?"

"Sleeping," he answered, seating himself on the empty chair opposite the desk. "Minerva--"

"Something is wrong with him, Albus," she quickly interrupted, worry crinkling the corners of her eyes.

Albus couldn't help but smile. As much as she disliked Severus most times of the week, she did a very good job of notifying him whenever there was something "off" with their Potions master. "What might it be? Did he seem distraught even before today's news of Lucius...?"

"No--I mean, yes, something seemed the matter with him even before today--but no, not distraught. He just seemed distracted. And tired, he always looked tired. Hagrid told me a week ago that he was not eating right, and indeed, he barely takes a bite from any of the food at the table."

"Has Poppy had a chance to see him?"

"Not since two months ago, after the battle." Here, Minerva paused, considering something. In a slow voice that was almost hesitant, she continued, "Filius says he felt the oddest thing from Severus yesterday."

Yesterday...Severus had gone to see him again that day and spent tea with him. But they spent that half-hour in silence, right before Albus had to leave again to meet with Arthur. Although Severus was quiet and seemed strangely tired, nothing else seemed to be wrong with him.

He gestured for Minerva to continue.

"I'm not sure if it's anything at all, and I don't think he would have brought it up if Hagrid hadn't made such a fuss about Severus's eating habits of late after you two had left. He said that after dinner yesterday, Severus passed him by just outside the Great Hall, and he could _feel_ Severus's magic go out of control for a few seconds."

Alarm flashed through Albus's eyes for the barest of seconds. "Severus was angry? Casting a spell?"

"No, which is why Filius was disturbed. Severus was just walking -- a bit slowly, but nothing untoward. Filius had to hold on to a pillar to keep from getting blown away."

A moment of silence passed between them. "I am afraid I know of no condition that could be causing this," he said slowly. "This would not be so alarming if it were just mere apathy or depression. We've learnt to handle both from him in the past, but this..."

Albus looked up and saw Minerva's wide, hopeful gaze fixed on him. "What can we do?" she asked quietly.

He let a soft sigh escape his lips. One of the few liberties he took in Minerva's presence was to actually let something of himself slip through without fear of consequence. "Nothing, until we know more." He slowly rose from his chair, his eyes trained on his Deputy Headmistress. "I must meet with Arthur Weasley now, but he might be able to help us. It's something of a long shot, but I could ask him if he could dose Avery with Veritaserum and ask him a few questions. He was the one who nearly killed Severus before Neville saw them both."

The expression on Minerva's face clearly showed her apprehension that something fruitful might come of the idea.

She nodded anyway. "Good luck, then. I guess it could be anything. But Albus--"

Albus paused from his walk toward the door and turned an inquiring gaze on Minerva.

"See him again before you leave? He responds best to you."

He gave her a comforting smile that he did not at all feel genuine. "Of course."

---

Severus was awake when Albus entered his room. He was lying on his side, staring into the far distance. He looked as tired as Albus felt. When his eyes closed, the lashes glided so slowly, as if brushing the very air.

Albus took a chair and seated himself close to the edge of the bed, nearer to the headboard. He discreetly passed his hand over the younger man's body, feeling for anything out of place in his magical aura.

Finding nothing, he let his hand settle on the side of Severus's face, slowly stroking strands of black hair with the tips of his fingers. "Been awake long?" he asked.

Drowsy black eyes slowly focused on him. "Don't want to sleep," came the soft answer. His voice seemed lower than a whisper's.

"You must rest, Severus. You are not well. We are all worried."

The younger man's brows furrowed slightly. He kept quiet.

Albus leaned in closer and kissed his cheek, lingering just a little bit, just enough to feel the cool skin warm slightly before he drew back. "There's nothing to fear. When the trials are over, we shall spend more time together. But for now, get some sleep. Close your eyes now."

"You will still be with me, when I wake?"

He smiled at the worried look, ignoring the tightening in his chest as he kept his jovial tone. He prayed to Merlin that Arthur would give him something to work on. "Yes, dear boy."

"Promise me?"

_"Yes,_ Severus. I promise to be here when you wake. Sleep now."

Severus exhaled softly, as if he'd been holding his breath all that while. His eyes closed, his breathing evened.

Albus gave him one last kiss before he left. On his lips, which felt oddly cold.

---

"I'm sorry, Albus. Cornelius didn't inform any of us..."

He closed his eyes and nodded. "Couldn't be helped, Arthur. Perhaps I could see a transcript of his interrogation?"

_If they conducted one at all, that is._

"Here," Arthur procured a small folder from the pile on his desk. He handed it to Albus. "I'm not exactly sure what you're looking for, but the interrogation's pretty short. Nothing you're unfamiliar with. There's also a list of curses he cast before he was taken into custody..."

Albus lost no time in flipping through the pages, looking for the list. Arthur was saying something about interrogation standards when he found it.

The list was short, and not very creative (which was pretty typical of Avery, as he recalled). It cited:

"Avada Kedavra (2x)
Crucio (failed casting)
Avada Kedavra
Imperio (2x, failed casting)
Silencio
Avada Kedavra (5x)

Priori Incantatem: Avada Kedavra"

He stared at the last line for a few more seconds, feeling his hopes sink a bit lower. He slowly closed the folder and met Arthur's puzzled glance with a sad smile.

---

He managed to return at half past two in the morning, wishing for nothing more than a comfortable bed and nine hours at his disposal. But all thoughts of rest promptly vanished from his mind when he heard a series of abrupt knocks rattle his office door, and Minerva's excited voice calling, "Albus! Albus, for Merlin's sake, please be there--!"

The door opened at his will. He rushed out of his chambers and arrived in his office just as Minerva entered, looking panicked and bedraggled.

"Albus, thank Merlin! It's Severus, he's been like this for an hour--"

He felt the knot in his stomach tighten severely. "Where is he?"

"In his quarters, but--"

He rushed out of the office, running as fast as his feet could carry him. Behind him, she shouted an aborted "Wait--!" But he couldn't have stopped if he wanted.

The door to Severus's quarters were shut, and outside stood Pomfrey, Filius, and Hagrid. The half-giant's right arm and torso were severely burned. Poppy stood beside him, looking over the injuries, while Flitwick stood in front of the door and seemed to be scanning its perimeter with his wand.

Poppy was in the middle of bandaging Hagrid's wounds when the half- giant spotted Albus and tried to rise. Albus quickly told him to sit back down. Poppy shot him a grateful look and resumed working with the loosened bandage.

"We can't get in, Sir," Hagrid said immediately. "Door won't open. Wards 're gone, but th' door won' budge. Singed me arm trying to get through. Professor Flitwick over there's been trying ter sort it all out."

"Is Severus inside?" he asked, to all of them, his eyes glued to the door. "Is he all right?"

"I checked on him two hours ago," Poppy said. He faintly heard Minerva's footsteps farther down the corridor. "An hour after you left. He was just sleeping."

"Albus," Flitwick's high-pitched voice sounded unusually grave. "Severus's magic has replaced the wards. It has no _order_ to it, I can't sort it out!"

He stepped up close to the door, standing beside Filius, though his attention was fully focused on the nondescript piece of wood blocking him from his Potions master.

He disregarded his wand and stretched out his hands, hovering over the surface of the door and feeling the force covering the entire entrance. The whole area hummed with Severus's signature, pure magic that felt like a solid barrier crackling with immense energy. Beside him, Filius stretched out his hand to do the same. With a cry, the smaller man drew it back again. Albus caught a glimpse of badly burnt fingers.

_What is this...?_ he found himself asking, making tentative touches at the very fringe of the powerful barrier.

_Severus..._

Severus was inside.

Ignoring the sudden cries of protest behind him, Albus pressed both hands flat against the door and pushed. It didn't budge, but neither did his hands get burnt. He felt wood underneath his palms. The magical barrier had parted like water to let his hands pass through.

_Severus,_ he thought, hands pushing gently at the door. _Let me in._

There was no response. The door felt cold.

Minerva moved as if to touch the door herself, but drew back when Albus told her to. Once again, he focused his thoughts on the door, drawing his magic around himself like a blanket and letting it flow through his hands.

The wood slowly warmed. _It's Albus,_ he thought, and felt his magical signature mingle with Severus's. A greeting? Acceptance? _Let me in. It's Albus._

He felt something shift, and then give under his hands. With a slight push, the door swung open, as it always used to.

Gesturing for the others to remain behind, he stepped through the entrance, feeling the barrier slide past him and seal his way out. Inside, he found the room as it was before he left a few hours ago. Nothing seemed damaged or out of place.

He walked toward the bedroom and slid past the entrance. Only a few candles remained still burning. Severus was still lying on his side, in the same position he remembered when he bid him good night. He seemed to be still asleep, his chest rising and falling in equal intervals. Albus carefully sat on the bedside.

"Severus?" he asked again, and accompanied it with a slow shake of the younger man's shoulder. When that didn't elicit a response, he tried harder, grasping his arm and shaking him more forcefully.

With careful hands, Albus turned Severus on his back. He laid one hand on the younger man's chest--just above his heart--and cast, "Ennervate."

Nothing happened. The spell didn't even seem to reach past his fingers.

He took out his wand, pressing it close to Severus's chest, and tried casting the spell again. It glowed briefly, lighting the tip before fading out.

"This isn't right, child," he whispered. His hand travelled, as if on its own accord, to the length of black hair.

"You're too young for this. You're far too young..."

The candle on the bedside table fizzled and died, leaving half the room in complete darkness.

---

The Sleep of Renewal. It happened very rarely, but very rare things have always happened at Hogwarts. When a wizard is overcome with exhaustion by overexertion of magic, immense grief or weariness of the soul, his magic overrides his other faculties and encases him in a replenishing Sleep that could last from ten to ten thousand years.

It was a defensive reaction of any magic-wielder, a protective measure to keep from dying or wasting away. Before now, the last case of anyone undergoing the Sleep of Renewal was of a two hundred-year-old witch from over a thousand years ago. The circumstances that would invoke the Sleep were still vague and unclear, though almost half of the known cases were of weariness through age.

There was still no known case of a wizard or witch being prematurely awakened from the Sleep. Only the wielder's magic decided, it seemed.

_"But he's so young,"_ Minerva had whispered, when she learnt of the cause. _"The Sleep...it's ludicrous. He's still so young."_

And when Albus told Minerva of the promise he'd so unwittingly made to Severus, she was, for once, speechless. Her expression froze in horrified realisation.

_"It's _not_ Wizard's Bond,"_ she had said emphatically. _"You can't be expected to...Merlin...it could be as long as ten thousand years..."_

Albus sighed as he rose again from his seat, feeling his tired old bones protest. His skin felt far too stretched these days, and his eyesight made him see less and less with each passing day.

He slid in close to Severus's warm body on the bed and curled around the younger man, as closely as his aged joints would allow. Thin, wizened arms wrapped around the still form, taking comfort in the slow breathing and the regular beat of his beloved's heart.

A hundred years, and he couldn't stop remembering.

fin