The Time Team
~present~
As the Richards' Harry, Hermione and Ron immediately fell in love with the tiny town. It was like time had stopped here, the small houses, the tiny river by the outskirts of the village, and the streets paved with stone bricks.
"Oh, it's beautiful here!" Hermione sighed as she took the first step out on the street. The small tavern inn they had flooed to was indeed abandoned, just as well probably. It wouldn't be the best approach to arrive to a muggle village through one of their fireplaces..
"It's beautiful all right, but it gives me the willies!" Ron shrugged as they started the walk towards the tower. Harry was occupied inhaling the atmosphere. It almost felt as the town was weeping for being left behind. It was an odd feeling, but that was what he felt. During their walk through the winding and narrow streets he noticed one detail that struck him as really odd.
"Stop, be silent for a second!" he said to the two others who were bickering about a chocolate frog Hermione was supposed to have snatched from Ron's private storage.
"What?!" they both said and gave him the look an old married couple would have given their annoying, middle-aged and bachelor son.
"Listen, do you hear anything?" Harry said as he gazed into the sky. The two followed his example and listened.
"Nope, not a thing, actually," Ron said and was about to start walking again. Hermione looked like she knew what Harry was on to, though.
"It's too quiet here!"
"Exactly!" Harry exclaimed waving his arms: "Where are all the chirping birds?! Sure, they may have brought their dogs and cats with them, even when they left in a great haste, but there would still be other animals around here, and birds."
"OK, NOW I'm freaked out!" Ron said and started walking again, faster than before: "Let's get inside that rotten old castle so I can breathe again!"
*-*
They weren't really sure what welcome they would receive when they arrived the castle, but this was beyond any expectations! There were six of them, jolly old men with long beards and big grins on their faces. They greeted the newcomers with cheers and pats on the back, they looked like they just had found the meaning of life or something similarly outstanding. Norman Wellington were to be their "chaperone" and mentor during their stay. He had steel blue eyes with nothing but excitement in them, long and thin white hair that he tied back in some sort of ponytail, and of course, the long beard and the kaki-outfit.
"He looks just like someone dragged out of Time Team on muggle-TV!" Hermione whispered to Harry and Ron who didn't understand what she was blabbering about.
"Welcome to our humble little "dig out"!" Mr. Wellington said and shook their hands so hard Harry was wondering if his shoulder had jumped out of its socket. Hermione slipped right into the part as geeky student with big success. She took Mr. Welllington by the arm and snatched him away to look at some of their interesting findings as soon as he'd stopped wrenching her arm.
Harry smiled as one of the other muggles showed him and Ron were they would sleep during their stay.
"It's not much, but the crapper is a beauty!" Tom Libero roared and almost collapsed by his own outstanding joke.
"Heh, hee.. hee.." It wasn't as much as an attempt at a laugh from either Ron nor Harry but Mr. Libero smiled as he'd won an award: "Make your selves at home, lads. Later Norman will brief you about what we've found so far! But you can't tell anyone.. then we will have to shoot you!" he said with a dead serious face. Seconds later he burst out laughing again as the confused faces in front of him didn't know how to react.
"I'm just kidding lads! Ease up okay?! Bwahaha!" Ron and Harry repeated their stupid "you're- sooo-funny-laugh and the old man finally left.
"Man!" Ron moaned: "Muggles are SO strange! Harry smiled as he removed the backpack on his back and started to roll out his sleeping bag, as Ron continued: "I mean, did you HEAR that guy?! 'The crapper is a beauty! Bwa ha ha..' And these backpacks.. they're so uncomfortable and there's no space in them what so ever! Thank god Dumbledore didn't check my candy bag before we left, or else we would be stuck here with nothing!" The headmaster had given them strict instructions to this mission. They had to look strictly muggle, which meant no wands out in the open, no hexed pockets or bags to contain more baggage than it would normally contain and so forth. Poor Ron had never tried the muggle life before, the closest he was to experience such things would be the gadgets his father collected and the so called tenting-trips they made from time to time. Except their tent was charmed so that when you went inside it was as big and roomy as any house, with all the furniture and belongings you needed when you were a wizard on camping. The humble life of muggle camping was a large setback for Ron who imagined he could take all his belongings with him in a couple of roomy boxes. Now he had to settle for two months worth of candy, smuggled into the castle inside a little marble-purse..
"Not EVERY muggle is like that one," Harry said as he found a nice corner that would be his corner throughout this mission: "And you'll learn to love the muggle way of life, if you give it a chance." He couldn't help but laugh after saying this, he remembered all the years living with the Dursley's- he wouldn't trade his wizard skills for anything in the world!
"Just remember to follow mine and Hermione's lead, we've grown up as muggles and know how it works. But don't worry, I don't think you can get into any trouble in this old castle, there's not so much modern muggle- stuff here." Just about here a grave faced Hermione entered the room.
"What's wrong Mione- you look like you've seen a ghost!" Ron rushed towards her as she rested her backpack to the floor with a far away __expression on her face.
"I actually wonder if I have.." she said as her big, hazel eyes seemed to deny something they'd just seen.
"What do you mean?" Ron took her hand and patted it.
"Mr. Wellington took me upstairs to see the secret quarters they'd found, you would not believe.." her voice trailed off and she started pacing back and forth before stopping with a determined __expression on her face.
"You have to come see this, so you can tell me I'm not insane!"
Mione, what are you talking ab..." Harry began, but got cut off as Mr. Wellington entered the room with a bounce and weird chirping sounds. Harry was silently wondering if there was some spill of any toxic or hallucinogenic drug from some medical plant nearby.
"I gave young Ms. Granger here a little sneak peak of the tour, hope you don't mind lads?" he said and smiled brightly. Both Harry and Ron shook their heads and tried to smile, but all that stood in their heads was what could have upset Hermione so.
"Fine! Now we'll have the grand tour! You won't be needing any paper and pens yet, this will just be the introduction to the lot," Wellington said an moved for the door. The trio followed him in silence, the once so energetic Hermione came last with a strange _expression on her face. Their first stop was the wall where the family portrait was discovered. It still hang there on the wall, carefully dusted and cared for.
"We haven't had the heart to take it down yet," Mr. Wellington said: "We've taken it down once, of course, to look at the backside. You never know, there might be a tiny piece to the puzzle on the oddest places!" Harry and Ron went close to study the details and Harry immediately saw the similarities Ron had mentioned regarding the potions master.
"You're right!" he whispered as he leaned even closer: "He DOES look like Snape!"
"Magnificent details, wouldn't you say?" the man said and started to have a small lection about how well preserved it was, who he believed the motives could be and who might have painted it. This went the two boys straight by. They were occupied studying the details of the man portrayed there. The features was Snape, but not the beard, the way he arranged his hair, and somehow this man's attitude seemed different. Both Harry and Ron figured this had to be what had freaked Hermione out. Little did they know they were in for a much bigger shock...
While her two companions studied the man portrayed on the painting Hermione asked Wellington about the baby.
"Why was it never finished?" she asked as she looked at the yellowed piece of canvas that should have contained the baby's face.
"A very good question indeed, Ms. Granger- we've been pondering the very same thing ourselves. Our current hypothesis is leaning towards this: The young couple here, let's say it's the Sheriff of Nottingham and Marion for a laugh, they married and Marion, after a while got pregnant. Our dear Sheriff here decides he wants to give his lovely expecting wife a present, namely a family portrait. Look how happy she looks, doesn't she have that pregnant glow you women talks about? Anyhow, a painting takes a long, long time to paint if you want it perfect. Let's say the painter started before the little one made its screaming appearance. He painted the expecting mother slim, easy enough, and painted only the body of the baby. This would leave the artist with only the head left to paint when the little tyke was born and less wait for the new mama. Then tragedy strikes. The baby dies, maybe even the mother, Marion. The painting is never finished. In his grieve the Sheriff decides to hide away the painting for all eternity and closes all entrances to this little room. This would match well with the unused crib we found inside the other lot." Hermione nodded:
"That sound like a good hypothesis! It's awfully sad, though!" Ron and Harry had now seen enough of the painting and wanted to move on. Wellington leaded them upwards now, up in the west tower. Harry noticed how Hermione hesitated with every step up the winding stairs, as if she didn't want to go back up there. How could that be, could there be anything than that scary picture here that would upset her?
Harry walked into the biggest shock of his life. Sure, when he entered the room it was nothing odd about it, but then the details carved themselves into his mind. On a desk, an agent chemistry set stood- looking exactly like the sets they used at potions classes back at Hogwarts. A little cauldron, astronomy equipment.. and on a bed by one of the walls lay the remnants of an old age worn cloak.. Harry went closer to see and a silent gasp went out of his lungs when he noticed the small emblem on the black cloaks right side.. There was a seal.. very much assembling a certain house seal back at Hogwarts.. But the cloak was agent, and the seal showed big signs of decay. It might just be by chance..
"Come! Come see the proudest piece we've found here so far!" Mr. Wellington said and indicated Harry and Ron should move towards the desk. There on top of it, carefully tucked into a plastic portfolio for protection lay a yellowed parchment, a charcoal portrait this time. Both Harry and Ron wouldn't believe their eyes at first. There on that eight hundred years old paper Snape was staring back at them!
"Oh. My. God." Ron breathed and pinched Harry's arm. Harry just stood there, gaping.
"Yes, it's magnificent, isn't it!" Wellington purred as he believed the two boys were gasping because of the portraits worth as a find: "It's probably the best, and the strangest find I've ever done as an archaeologist. You may search for years and not come over such a treasure. And I can't believe the quality of the paper, regarding it's almost eight hundred years old! One little detail the two young wizards hadn't noticed a young witch was watching with worry in her eyes.
"This... Saxon.. I notice how.. bloated his belly is.. Could it be he suffers from scurvy?" she asked, trying to sound casual and relaxed. In the corner of her eye she noticed how Harry and Ron suddenly noticed that little detail.
"Uhm.. what's scurvy?" Ron squealed with a wrinkle on the bridge of his nose.
"Its a decease you get if you don't get the proper amount of vitamin C. I believe it was quite usual to suffer from scurvy amongst noblemen.. because they ate almost nothing but meat?" Hermione was tiptoeing forward here, there was a lot of muggle history she hadn't covered yet, but she did remember something about scurvy and how one of England's kings had suffered from it because he ate almost nothing but meat." Mr. Wellington got an _expression of awe on his face:
"Very good, Ms. Granger! You know your history! We also thought so at first, but then we found traces and remnants of and old greenhouse behind the castle where the garden area was. Howard is pretty sure there were grown orange trees there. Freshly squeezed orange juice was considered a delicate luxury in those days, and if you were rich enough, you owned you own trees. But it's of course a possibility this Saxon didn't like orange juice, he might even be allergic to it. I guess that's one of the questions we'll never be able to answer.."
"What about this man and the man on the other painting- they look very much alike! Could they be the same person?" Harry asked as he finally managed to drag his eyes away from the drawing.
"No, we are pretty certain they are two different men," Wellington said blatantly: "They have the same features, but they do not wear the same kind of clothes, in fact this man here is wearing clothes that doesn't fit that decade at all... The other guy is a noble and a man of power. This guy also seems to be a noble, but he doesn't have the same aura of power."
"He just looks lonely and depressed..," Ron mumbled to himself.
"But what about the crib standing in the corner over there!" Hermione interrupted: "If there was a stillborn baby, that would be the crib it would be supposed to sleep in. If the two men on the pictures are not the same, what's it doing here with this man who's not the father of the child?!"
"Well, that's one part of the puzzle we haven't figured out yet," the old muggle admitted and tugged his ear: " But I have a couple of theories of course..
Let's assume the man who once lived here was the Sheriff's brother or half brother. He does the unforgivable, he sleeps with his brother's wife. Marion gets pregnant with his child. What they don't know is that the Sheriff is barren and knows about this. And when he finds out that his wife is pregnant he is outraged, at first. Then he decides to play along with her, as Marion doesn't suspect that the Sheriff knows about her infidelity and she is happily carrying her child to term. Her husband orders a portrait of his blooming family as a part of his play. When Marion gives birth, the Sheriff finally tells her that he knows. He kills the baby, and probably Marion and his brother as well. He places the crib in his brother's chambers as it is his child, not the Sheriff's. And after killing them, the Sheriff wants to hide their betrayal and the two rooms are sealed off for all eternity."
Harry was starting to feel depressed due to all this depressing theories of Mr. Wellington. There was defiantly a mystery worth solving here, and Harry had the distinct feeling this room were hiding other clues, clues only a wizard could spot...
*-*
"Now, am I mad?!?!?" Hermione thumped down on Harry's sleeping bag with a thud: "Did you see a drawing assembling the very Potions Master who's currently away on some secret mission?!"
"I sure did," Ron said as he chased a chocolate frog around the room:" But he's gained some weight since the last time I saw him!" he laughed as he finally cornered his candy.
"It couldn't have been him, Mione. That's not possible!" Harry said as he sat down besides her.
"Oh isn't it?!!" Hermione's voice rose: "I know for a fact there's a spell for time travel. It's very hard to learn and you have to be a pretty powerful wizard or witch to handle it. And I think Snape is more than talented and skilled enough to travel through time if he wanted to. And did you see the equipment?!! The cauldron had a Hogwarts seal on it for crying out loud! And one of his cloaks, the astronomy kit.. what more proof do you need?!"
"First of all Snape is anything but fat," Harry answered calmly: "And I believe this man is his forefather, a great, great, great, great grandfather of some sort, slytherin as well as his descendant and one of the first Snape's ever attending Hogwarts."
"I don't know..." Ron frowned a bit: "Was there even a Hogwarts for eight hundred years ago?"
"Of course there was!" Hermione moaned: "You really should spend some time with..."
"Hogwarts, a History...Yes, I'm fully aware of that, Mione! After all, you've been pestering me about the blasted book for seven years!" Ron sighed and dried away a spot of chocolate from his chin. Hermione pouted angrily.
"I also remember some of the song the sorting hat sang for the first years.. our fourth year, wasn't it?" Harry pondered: "Let's see, it was something like this.. 'A thousand years or more ago... and so the hat went rambling on about Hogwarts' four founders and how they came up with the idea of a wizarding school..."
"Well, so Hogwarts existed eight hundred years ago, both the weirdoes we've seen portrayed today are the old bat's forefathers. And with the cheery stories our new friend Norman here has shared with us today I blame those guys for the rotten grades I got to my potions finals last year!" Ron was satisfied with Harry's explanation and wanted the whole issue dead and gone.
"But the haircut, those eyes..." Hermione whimpered, still not convinced. She was going through that room again later that night. If she was to dust the old stonewalls with a toothbrush to find evidence of the man portrayed on the paper being Severus Snape she would do it. She wished Harry's explanation was the right one, but she wouldn't calm down before it was proven. She overcame the sudden urge to call for Albus to get the answers she needed, but figured it had to wait until the evening.
*-*
Hermione awoke with a start. She gave a wink to her muggle watch as she carefully and silently got to her feet. It showed 02.00. She had decided earlier that same evening to have another look at the room when everybody else had fallen asleep. She didn't bother nag Harry and Ron about it, they were already convinced the man portrayed on the parchment wasn't Snape. Hermione on the other hand needed to be sure. Of course she would have many occasions to search the rooms the following weeks, they were allowed to be there and part of their training would be to look for new clues to the archaeologist's puzzle. But Hermione wanted some private time with the room, alone with her thoughts and abilities to snoop up new details. She remembered the meeting with Albus in the fireplace earlier that same night. He had seemed so eager, and when they told him what they'd found out so far, he looked sort of disappointed. They asked Albus about the men on the portraits and their striking resemblance to the Defense against the dark arts- professor, but the Headmaster said he couldn't tell them anything about that point, that he was in the dark about who they might be himself. Somehow Hermione couldn't quite believe him. Even though he was sticking his head through a fireplace and there was a blue fire around him, Hermione couldn't quite shake the image she'd got of a sad man, worrying for his kid. Maybe he was worried about them, she didn't know. But she was going find out whether the man on that portrait was Severus Snape or not, this night!
Like a cat in the night she snook up the stairs with a muggle oil lamp to guide her way. She didn't dare use her wand in case one of the archaeologists would decide to take a night time stroll. Well up in the tower she rested the lamp onto the desk next to the agent drawing and picked it up. With trembling fingers she removed the parchment from the portfolio, afraid the old paper would crumble into dust with her touch. She flipped it over to its backside, lay it down on the desk again and studied its backside as thoroughly as she knew without using magic. Nothing. Then she picked up her wand and tapped the parchment while she whispered:
"Patesco." It was an easy way to hide information, you needed a minimum of skills to do it, and so Hermione reckoned nothing would appear on the parchment. If something was hidden in this sheet of paper it probably would be much better hidden. Therefore she gasped in surprise when a swirling handwriting in black ink started spreading across the paper, big loops on various letters so much alike the ones Hermione used to receive after written tests in a certain class.. She waited while the invisible pen finished its work, as her heart was throbbing heavily in her chest. It finished the letter with a small drawing of a Slytherin emblem down in the right corner. Hermoine took a deep breath and started reading..
Five minutes later she was storming down the stairs, heading for the dungeons. Tears staining her cheeks, Hermione contacted the Headmaster. This was the news he'd been waiting for...
*-*
Harry hated mornings and this was no exception. Archaeologists were known to rise with the sun and this lot seemed to rise even earlier. Ron moaned as he to crept out of his sleeping bag, looking utterly miserable.
"How do muggles SURVIVE sleeping in these things?!!?" he complained as he got to his feet and stretched his back with a frown: "Hey, where's Mione??" Harry looked towards the sleeping bag where their friend was supposed to be sleeping.
"Ah, well.. you know Mione! She's probably been up all night getting a head start!" Harry said and laughed: "I bet she's solved the mystery already and that she now knows Snape's relatives better than they did themselves!" Ron rolled his eyes in consent:
"You're probably right!"
Hermione wasn't to be seen by the breakfast table with the cheery old men, nor was she to be found anywhere in the room where they'd found the portrait of the "Snape-twin". Both boys were starting to get worried.
"You don't think anything has happened to her?" Ron whispered as they headed down the stairs again. They could hear a choir of old throats howling away on an old Beatles melody from one of the halls.
"I don't know," Harry answered him honestly. They were heading down to the dungeons in case Hermione was sending Dumbledore some urgent messages through the fireplace. And that's where they found her, sleeping on the stone floor in front of the old fireplace.
"Mione!" Ron sat down beside her and pinched her cheek. There was a low protest and then she opened her eyes, confused at first before she realized where she was.
"Oh, I must have fallen asleep after notifying Albus.." she began and then she turned paler than a corpse.
"What's wrong?" Harry asked, and kneeled beside Ron. Hermione looked at both of them in turns and then her face dissolved in tears before she threw herself at the nearest lap, Ron's.
"Mione?" Ron ran his fingers soothingly through her hair as she was shaking like a leaf. After a few minutes her sobs died out and she calmed down enough to sit up straight. Both Harry and Ron stared at her, concern etching their every feature, but none of them wanted to haul whatever it was upsetting Hermione so out of her. She dried her tears with the back of her hand and forced her gaze upwards.
"I found a hidden letter last night," she whispered.
< I knew it, she couldn't wait!> Harry thought.
"It was on the backside of the charcoal portrait, hidden with a simple "Hide- spell", the ones wizard kids use to exchange secret messages. The letter was from Snape." Here Ron gasped, while Harry couldn't believe his own ears. How could that be? How could the note have been from Snape, what would he be doing in the past?
"What was he saying then?!" Ron was dying to know and his whole face now lit up in expectation, a famous Weasly trademark. Hermione drew a shaking breath and continued:
"It was a letter to Dumbledore, where he stated his mission was accomplished... and that he didn't know how to return home..."
"Oh my God!" Ron breathed: "Does that mean.."
"He's stuck in the past, yes," Hermione croaked and started crying again.
*-*
"There has to be something we can do!" Harry said as he was tearing his hair in frustration. Hermione, Ron and himself had just finished a long excruciating day trying to act normal together with the group of constantly singing old men. Now they were back inside their "room" for the evening, excusing themselves early to "go to bed".
"I don't think so," Hermione shrugged. "I asked Dumbledore about it last night and he said that something happened to Snape while he traveled to the past. Dumbledore lost connection with him, and without that it is impossible for Snape to return home and for Albus or anyone else to travel back to get him." Both Ron and Harry resembled the distinct look of a question mark. Hermione sighed and gave them looks that could have killed a very strong beetle.
"Dumbledore works as some sort of homing beacon for Snape. For Snape to return he needs a signal to.. travel after. Without it he might as well end up in Africa ten years ahead in the future, or on the north pole ten thousand years ago. In the precise same way Dumbledore or any other needs Snape's "signals" to find him in the past. Get it?"
"I believe so.." Harry nodded: "But we don't know if Snape maybe found another way to return home after he'd written that letter."
"No, Hermione answered: "And that's why we're still here. The Headmaster won't give up before we've turned every stone and cobweb in this castle, just in case there is one final clue."
"Something bad must have happened with him," Ron said as he shifted in his sleeping bag: "He looked down right sick on that drawing. And anything slowing Snape down in any way , HAS to be serious!"
"Do you know anything about why he decided to leap through time?" Harry asked Hermoine. She nodded firmly and retold what Albus had told her last night:
"He went back to collect an artifact we need in the fight against Voltimore. Supposedly it is a stone resembling the philosopher's stone. If Voltimore gets his hands on it he will be more or less immortal and he will be able to take human form again. The artifact got lost somewhere in time and a witch, more precisely the mother of the Sheriff of Nottingham was the last known owner of it. Snape was sent back to collect it and it was to be used in a final battle against Voltimore, wiping him off the face of the earth for good. But something went terribly wrong already as he stepped through the void. Albus suspects the past Voltimore was aware of Snape's daring plan and destroyed his chance for ever getting home again. Voltimore was seeking this stone already back then, and Albus believes he was the one behind the deal Severus and the witch made."
"What do you mean?" Harry asked as Ron handed him a lemon roll.
"The witch was the one who contacted Snape. She told him she knew he was in need of the stone and that she had an offer for him. In exchange of some favors she would give it to him freely. There follows a curse with this stone, you see- it can't be stolen from its owner it has to be given to you. And Snape agreed to her terms, unaware the witch already had made a pact with Voltimore."
"But why did Dumbledore lie when he told us he knew nothing of the man on the drawing? Why did he pretend he didn't know?" Ron suddenly intervened: "Why didn't he tell us immediately?"
"He wanted us to find out for ourselves," Hermione answered calmly: "He wanted us to find the evidence we needed instead of trusting blindly what told us. Just look at all the different angles Mr. Wellington is approaching the mystery from! Dumbledore wanted us to find all the pieces of the puzzle ourselves and not to take anything for granted. If we gathered the facts ourselves the chance for a precise outcome would be bigger. And that's what we'll continue to do. That's the only way we can help Snape now. If we find some clue on what it is keeping him from leaving, maybe, just maybe we could help him in the present." And so it was. Harry, Hermione and Ron were to continue their search for clues in hope something would turn up.
Days went by and the trio soon settled in with the notorious six- pack of muggle archaeologists. They were searching the castle for clues and hints, anything that could tell them a little bit more about what was happening with Snape in the past. They found no more hidden letters, but there was a carving in Latin on the desk, far down in one of the corner- almost invisible for the naked eye. The tooth of time had chewed on the old wood, but Hermione could read it easily enough with an enlargement spell. "Protect the innocent". There was no doubt in her mind this was something Snape had engraved into the wood, but she didn't understand its meaning. Albus did though, when she told him of the engraftment, but he didn't tell her. Ron also found some carvings in the stone above what once had been a bed. Six thin, scraped lines, indicating some time interval. Hermione guessed months or years. Thankfully they were under minimal distractions from Mr. Wellington. They could do more or less as they pleased, as long as they kept them selves busy with the archaeology- bit of course. The archaeologists were starting to wrap things up now, they would move their work out into the forest in a couple of weeks. That would mean Harry, Ron and Hermione would have to spend their days mainly outdoors. Dumbledore approved to this as long as they didn't use ANY kind of magic as they were outdoors, just to be on the safe side. As long as all of them were well back inside the castle's stonewalls before the sun set they would be fairly safe.
*-*
Back at his new headquarter in one of the small muggle villages Albus had his eyes on the development in the Sherwood forest from minute to minute. He was ready to apparate in on a seconds notice and his nerves were starting to get used to the constant strain by now. But he couldn't battle Voltimore, yet. He had of course notified Black, Lupin, Figg and Fletcher the only wizards and witch besides Severus he trusted with his life. They all stayed in high alert now, ready to go into battle on a few minutes notice. But Albus had to find the hiding place of Voltimore and destroy it before there was any chance of destroying the demon itself. Sirius Black and Arabella Figg was scanning the forest by daytime, but they'd come up with nothing so far. The demon was well hidden, resting and feeding, growing for the near coming battle.
He'd been near distraught by the hidden letter Hermione had found. His worst suspicions were starting to come true, and there was nothing he could do about it. Albus couldn't bring himself to tell Hermione the whole heart-shattering truth about Severus' departure. It was his burden and his shame to bear alone. Even Severus hadn't known when he left, a decision Albus now slowly was starting to regret. Severus was innocent in all of this, he was sent back to protect the past and to make sure a certain young wizard would be born in the future. A heavy burden for a tormented unknowing soul, how had he reacted the day he found out? Was there any love left in his battered heart for an aging, cowardly old wizard that once had taken him in as his child?
He had told Hermione that Severus was tricked by Voltimore and the witch.. Severus himself was the trading chip. And she had believed him and not asked for more, although he could feel her thoughts lingering by the reason why Severus would be kidnapped through time by the demon and his companion. Albus held himself responsible for the outrage that would be performed on his loyal spy. In his heart he knew that if the facts had been set in front of him, he would still have sent Severus into this version of hell on earth.
Yes, Albus Dumbledore knew it, and despised himself for it.
The truth, it had to be the truth, wasn't a pretty truth. Albus like many fighting on the side of light wasn't perfect. At 153 years of age, he'd matured and learned, he wasn't born an experienced war mage or strategist. They made mistakes all of them, and tried to learn and make amends where they could. But even on the side of right, you use other methods, one man's freedom fighter is another man's terrorist. With no time for niceties and needs to be met, the fighters of good and evil often used the same methods to obtain their goals. No, Albus Dumbledore was no innocent, Severus Snape came to him when he was 20 years old. An ex-student and a death- eater, a repentant one at that who spent the next 17 years of his life atoning for the terrible mistake he made. Albus had used him ruthlessly as a spy for the cause. Sure, he wasn't the one deciding for Severus to go back as a spy, but he hadn't denied him to do so when he found out either, that made him just as guilty as if he'd been the one to order him. He didn't expect Snape's life span to be more than a few weeks but the young man continually surprised him.
He was a problem student.. right from the start. A family tragedy left Severus an orphan. He should have been at St. Mungo's where he should have been nursed back to health but instead he ended up fostered by a well-meaning family and then the letter arrived from Hogwarts. They had all been tricked, he was ill then and too young. They assumed he was 11 years old and small for his age.. they were wrong. There were incidents over the years, but the teachers of Hogwarts played them down, they never realized how badly they handled it all, playing Severus Snape right into Voldemorts open hands, he wasn't the only student either, nearly an entire year of Slytherine's and Ravenclaw's were lost to him in one go.
Almost all of the children Snape went to school with became deatheaters, fewer were still alive and free. Somehow Severus broke away from Voldemort and came back to Hogwarts. He probably hadn't elsewhere to go. He offered Albus his services to catch and kill Voldemort, he was offered sanctuary in Hogwarts and a home. Albus did not push for him to return to his dark lord as a spy, but he didn't deny him either. The battered young man who didn't seem to fit in anywhere, who'd never experienced how it is to grow up in a loving and caring family once more became a flickering shadow in the halls of Hogwarts. And at nights he did the dark lord's bidding, risking his very soul to deserve the parental love he craved from the man that now had given him a home, al though not his heart.
The day Hagrid found him, beaten and tortured in the outskirts of the forbidden forest Albus' heart finally woke with parental fury. He swore an oath to himself that he would protect this boy, man in body but still so innocent and pure in heart. He'd suffered an unforgivable curse and had been left in the forest, it was a freezing November and he nearly died out there, as alone as he'd been the night his mother died. Albus became the missing constant in his life, the one soul he was dependant upon to some extent for his self-worth and sense of identity. But when had the parent given in to the pressure from the war-strategist? When did Albus start seeing his son as just a pawn on the chess board? Slowly Albus was becoming the person he'd fought against.. In his own, fatherly and lovingly way he had treated Severus as less than nothing, cannon fodder.. And he vowed to never do this to another sentient being for as long as he lived. Somehow Severus had heard his oath, or part of it, and even now after all this years, he did these things for the only man he considered to be his father. He still needed his father's approval so he would be wanted. Albus blessed him and cursed him in turns, Severus did what his father asked him to do, wither he wanted it or not.
Albus had never turned the ministry down, even knowing how afraid his child would be. Back at Hogwarts Severus became Potions Master and watched over the Slytherines and to some extent the Ravenclaws, making certain history wouldn't repeat itself, making sure he would be the last one to be thrown to the wolves...
Albus' mind threatened to cave in on him as he lay in his bed thinking it all over again and again.
< I have never deserved such faith or devotion.. I am just a simple aged wizard, who wanted to be a learned scholar and I became the Headmaster of Hogwarts. I never intended any of this.. I simply could not stop it..> All Albus had ever done was to learn to deal with life and what is thrown in your way. He wanted a son for so many years but it never happened. Then he was given a second chance and it took him many years to realize what he'd been given, by Voldemort of all people, a son.
No comfort came to the weeping old wizard in the creaky motel-bed this night..
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