"Emotionally Unavailable"

Harry Potter fanfic

By Megan Quinlan

The house at Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place was eerily still. An old grandfather clock in the upstairs front hallway ticked and wheezed away the seconds, and the painting of Mrs. Black was, for the moment, mercifully quiet. The house's owner, Sirius Black, was nowhere to be found and Molly and Arthur had taken the majority of the houseguests shopping in Diagon Alley, leaving her younger sister Maggie alone with Severus Snape, the enigmatically creepy Potions Master at Hogwarts.

Maggie was a red-haired bespectacled young woman whose thick hair hung in waves around her shoulders. She was Molly's youngest sister – closer in age to Bill, Molly's eldest son - and Molly had always felt towards her as if she were a daughter instead of a much younger sister.

She had arrived the previous night in the pouring rain. Despite the fog and all of the charms put on the house for security, she had no trouble finding the place. She had walked into the small entryway and, hearing voices in the next room, peeked her head around the corner. Molly and her husband Arthur sat at the far end of the table with their son. A handsome man in the center of the table saw her come in and did a double take. He caught her eye and smiled.

"Hello!" he greeted her, causing everyone else at the table to stop their discussion and turn toward her. She could feel herself blushing and smiled tentatively.

"Maggie! Oh!" Molly exclaimed. "You made it – oh, good – we were just finishing up here. This is my younger sister, Maggie," Molly said proudly to the witches and wizards at the table.

Maggie greeted the members of the Order of the Phoenix. She looked down at the wizard sitting in front of her, dressed in black from head to toe and hunched over some papers. She caught his eye and smiled; he looked away quickly, avoiding her gaze. The handsome wizard who had first noticed her stood up and extended his hand.

"Maggie, nice to meet you – Sirius Black." She tried to hide her surprise by smiling and shaking his hand, but it had caught her off-guard. Sirius' face had been plastered all over the wizarding world just a few years prior, having escaped from Azkaban, the wizard prison. The man greeting her looked nothing like the shaggy, sneering criminal in the wanted posters. His eyes were sparkling green, his hair neatly combed, and his cleanly shaven face looked much younger than she had thought him to be.

"Maggie's going to help us get this place cleaned up again – she's got quite a way with making a house a home," Molly had claimed. Maggie had never even owned her own home, but she knew that Molly had been increasingly worried about her for quite some time. Her requests that Maggie take some time off had taken on a desperate tone recently as she watched the toll that work was taking on her younger sister, but Maggie loved her work as a healer at St. Mungo's and always felt that Molly had such a boring life staying at home keeping house and raising a family.

The other meeting members stood up and introduced themselves. She recognized a few of the names from her conversations with her sister and brother-in-law, and from the Daily Prophet newspaper. The mysterious wizard in black remained in his seat.

"Maggie, this is Severus Snape; he teaches Potions at Hogwarts," said Molly. Severus Snape rose quickly from his seat and turned toward her. He was an imposing figure who stood at least a head taller than Maggie and looked at her from behind cold, black eyes.

"Pleased to meet you, Miss Prewett," he said softly, taking her hand. Maggie was surprised at his gentle tone and touch, considering his rather harsh outward appearance. It almost took her breath away. He met her eyes quickly and then looked away. Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed Sirius staring at them from across the room.

"If you'll excuse me," said Snape, gathering up his papers to leave.

"Yes. Yes – it was – it was nice meeting you, Severus." she stammered. Her heart was racing. Something about him made her feel nervous or uneasy – she couldn't place a finger on it. He bowed toward her and left the room, ascending the staircase at the end of the hall. She looked toward the other end of the room where the meeting had taken place in time to catch Sirius glaring in Snape's general direction.

Maggie had been apprehensive about coming to the house at first. She knew it was headquarters for The Order of the Phoenix, a secret order that worked to defend the wizarding world from the dark power of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. She was only a teenager the last time that Voldemort was in power and the Order of the Phoenix was assembled. Maggie's older brothers had been killed while working for the Order back then and although she supported their work, she at first refused to have anything to do with it. Molly knew that her sister felt very warmly toward Albus Dumbledore and would do anything to get behind a cause that he believed in. It was this argument that had finally persuaded Maggie to take some time off and come stay at the house at Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place.

She had adored Dumbledore during her time at Hogwarts. It was Dumbledore who had first suggested that she had the talent to become a healer, something that she had never imagined as a child. She was an awkward child who seemed to have a talent only for accidentally setting small fires and transfiguring dragonflies into slugs, but it was at Hogwarts, where she was introduced to all kinds of magic that she discovered her love for potions, charms and arithamancy

Back then Severus Snape was nowhere to be found. She'd heard that he was a Death Eater, loyal to He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, which is why she was surprised to find out that Snape had indeed been given the post of Potions Master at Hogwarts by Dumbledore himself. According to Molly, Dumbledore trusted Snape but refused to say why. It was good enough for Maggie, who trusted Dumbledore. Dumbledore was a highly respected wizard, and the smartest wizard Maggie knew. If he had reason to trust Severus, then she was sure that Severus could be trusted.

Once Maggie settled into her new home, she began to relax. At night, she would sit with Molly and Arthur and her niece and nephews listening to stories about life at Hogwarts, which hadn't changed much in the years since she'd left to study the Healing Arts. She felt safe at the house, and hadn't felt so relaxed in years. It was nice to be around a big family again. She and Molly had six other sisters and brothers and there was always someone around for company, but they had all grown up and gone their separate ways. Maggie lived alone in a flat at St. Mungo's, since her work took up so much of her time.

The Black house was shabby at best, and the company was what made it feel more comfortable than it actually was. The furniture was old, the carpets threadbare and the curtains were full of holes left by the doxies that had been cleared out of them by Molly and the kids. There was still a substantial layer of dust covering most of the shelves and furniture. The house had been inhabited only by a filthy house-elf during the years that Sirius had been in Azkaban. Sunlight filtered in through windows so dirty she couldn't even see the street outside. She picked up a dirty rag that had been left behind from the previous day's cleaning efforts and made a small circle in the window. Outside, the sun shone. Muggles with briefcases walked briskly by on their way to work, oblivious to the crumbling façade of the house at number twelve, but a shaggy black dog laying in the sun on the common across the street seemed to be staring directly at her. She squinted to get a better look at it, but it got up quickly and disappeared behind a bush. She would certainly have her work cut out for her at the house when the majority of its current residents moved back to Hogwarts for the school year.

At the back of the kitchen were piles of folded laundry that Molly had left before the outing, neatly sorted by the person it belonged to. She waved her wand at the piles and began to walk them upstairs along with several freshly cleaned towels that she thought Severus might use. He was a strange, mysterious sort who spent most of his days away from the house, retreating to his room most of the time that he was home. With everyone so busy in the house, Maggie would have liked his company, but he kept to himself, barely speaking a word to her, or anyone else for that matter. His silence only piqued her interest. She knew he had a checkered past, but what was it that brought him back to Hogwarts and here to the Order of the Phoenix?

The door to the room where he was staying was cracked open and the sunlight was streaming into the dark and dusty hallway. Ancient members of the Black family snored and stirred in the frames along the stairs. She could hear water being poured into a basin coming from the room where the Potions Master stayed. She knocked on his door, "Severus, I – Oh! Severus!" she gasped. The laundry fell into piles on the floor in a disorganized heap. She had accidentally pushed the door partway open, revealing Severus Snape sitting at his basin, shirtless. Angry red scars crisscrossed his pale white back in long, raised welts

He looked up, startled and cowered over the basin, looking over his shoulder and reaching quickly for his robe. What was she doing snooping around the house, entering his room uninvited? He wanted to yell at her, "Get out of here – who do you think you are, woman? Leave me alone!" but he was frozen in place, unable to make the words. He wanted her to go away, to disappear. He wanted to disappear. He drew his robe into his chest and put his arm in a sleeve.

"No, let me see," she said in almost a whisper, touching his arm so gently he couldn't help but put down his robe. He put his head down, unable to look her in the eye. His hands and feet were suddenly as cold as ice, as if she'd placed a curse on them, but she had put her wand away. What was it making him feel like this – making him feel almost…weak? This was not like him – not the man he wanted to be, who he had been since he left home when he was barely thirteen. He felt like a child again, the child cowering in the corner, too afraid, too weak to protect his mother from his angry, screaming father.

She gathered his black hair into her hands at the base of his neck. Her hands were cool, sending a chill through his body. He shuddered.

"Do they hurt?' she asked.

"Yes," he managed, closing his eyes.

She placed her left hand on his right shoulder and slowly turned him around to face her. A feeling of intense warmth spread through his shoulder from her hand down his back, making him feel even weaker. She looked up at his face, but he looked away, unable to look in her eyes. His black hair fell into his dark, piercing eyes. She studied his face for a moment, and felt an overwhelming urge to touch his cheek. She resisted, but something had stirred inside of her – she expected to feel pity, but it was different. Compassion? Yes, there was compassion, but it was more than that. It was something she hadn't felt before and it confused her, but she knew from experience that she couldn't let her emotions, however strong, get in the way of taking care of someone who needed her. She looked down at his pale chest. It was, as his back, covered with raised, red scars. She closed her eyes and sighed, shaking her head.

"Severus, who did this to you?"

He could only shake his head, unable to meet her gaze. He could feel her bright green eyes on him. He didn't want to tell her where the scars came from, although he was sure she already knew. Most of all, he didn't want her pity. But there wasn't pity in her voice, it was something different, something sincere – sadness and something he couldn't understand. She was so much like her sister, Molly, but there was something else familiar in the tone of her voice. Why was she being so kind to him?

"I think I can help," she said, finally, trying to disguise the shock that she was feeling. "I can make up a couple of potions right now – they'll be ready later on tonight." She smiled, trying to look hopeful.

"Thank you," he mumbled, "I would be most appreciative."

Her smile brightened, "It's no problem"

She turned to leave, "Ms. Prewett?"

"Yes?"

"Please," he said, "Don't tell anyone about this. Please don't tell Molly – she'll just – "

"Worry?" she smiled, "Make a bigger deal out of this than it is? Tell everyone she knows?" She laughed, "I know – she's my sister! Don't worry – your secret is safe with me. I'll see you after dinner"

She turned and walked out, closing his door behind her. He stood in the middle of his room, dumbfounded, unable to move. What had just happened? How could he have let someone see? Especially her. What must she think of him? He knew that people talked about him – about how he had once served He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named – and he tried not to let it get to him. He kept the world out of his private business. There was no need for anyone to know anything about him or his past. Dumbledore believed in him and that was all he needed to know, but the wizarding world didn't quite know what to believe. Some believed that Dumbledore had gone soft, or worse, that Snape had Dumbledore under an Imperius Curse.

After what seemed like a very long time, he sat back down at the basin, closed his eyes, sighed and shook his head. What was it about her? What had she done to him? He felt so…powerless. He had made a promise to himself when he was just a boy at Hogwarts that he would never be powerless again. He would learn all of the magic he could to protect her. He would never again be the weakling cowering in the corner while she suffered at the hands of his father. He buried his head in his hands. It was this promise that led him into the hands of the Dark Lord. He rubbed his eyes, shook his head and sighed. He stood up at last and began to dress.

Maggie stood out in the hallway in disbelief, reaching out a hand to steady herself on a wall. She shook her head and tried to catch her breath. She had tried to put on her best face and act casually, but in truth it had been a long time since she'd seen anything like those welts. Get it together, she thought, you're a professional.

"Ahem!" came a voice from behind her. She jumped and turned, but it was only a painting that she'd been leaning on.

"Sorry," she mumbled, shaking it off and straightening herself out. The laundry was still all over the floor, and an old woman in another painting was shaking her head.

"Tsk, tsk, all over the floor, in this house! What a mess, clothes all over the floor…in this house."

Maggie took out her wand and picked up the laundry, which sorted itself again into neatly folded piles, which she directed, into the various rooms. She heard a door open behind her.

"I'm…going…out, Ms. Prewett. Please tell Molly I'll be back for dinner tonight."

She managed to pull herself together enough to smile and take a deep breath, "Okay, I'll see you then, and I'll have that potion - "

"Yes," he interrupted, "I will see you then." He turned on his heel in a swirl of black cape and was gone. She heard him walk down the stairs and there was a loud crack as he disapparated somewhere. She stood in place for another few seconds and then went into the room that she was sharing with her niece, Ginny and Hermione Grainger for the next few days until they were to return to Hogwarts. She unlocked an old, beat up trunk in the corner and rifled through the contents, picking up various jars and squinting at the materials contained within them. She flipped through the pages of an old, yellowing book and dog-eared several pages. She rolled up the book and put in into a pocket, threw her robe on over her shoulders and disapparated.

When she returned to the house and walked in the door, the large black dog she had seen earlier jogged down the stairs toward her, wagging its tail.

"Well hello there! Where did you come from?" she asked, scratching him behind the ears. The dog appeared to be smiling at her. She bent down close to him, and he licked her face eagerly. When she stood up again, the shaggy mutt jumped up on her, putting his front paws on her shoulders, nearly knocking her over. Standing up on his hind legs, he was taller than she was. The dog's smile turned to laughter and suddenly, it transformed and Sirius Black stood in front of her with his hands on her shoulders, laughing uncontrollably.

"Oh!" she gasped, "You!" She swatted at his shoulder. He turned and strutted away from her, still laughing.

"You thought I was cute!" he sang

"Son of a -" She swatted him on the rear end with the bundle of papers she had been holding. Shaking her head, she turned around and crashed into a solid black wall.

"Oh!" She gasped and clutched her chest. "Severus! You startled me!" She touched his arm and smiled.

"Miss Prewett," he nodded formally and proceeded swiftly down the hall, his black capes swirling around him. She stared after him, puzzled by his demeanor. He was so formal and serious all of the time – he seemed to have no sense of humor, unlike other members of the household, she thought.

She was finishing up the last of the potions in her room when she heard to door to the house open and a crowd of teenagers laughing and joking about something. She waved her wand and tidied up the room before heading downstairs.

"Hello, Maggie," Arthur called up the stairs, "Did you enjoy the peace and quiet?"

"I did, yes. Thank you, Arthur"

"Molly's just gone down to the kitchen to get dinner started."

"Great, I'll go give her a hand."

The front stairwell was crowded with the Weasley clan and their friends bringing their parcels up to their rooms for storage, so she turned and went down the back stairs to the kitchen. Molly was already busy with several knives chopping away busily on the counter.

"You can plan on one more. Severus said he'd be back for dinner."

Molly stopped what she was doing and looked up at her sister, "Severus? Well that's odd. He never stays for dinner. Oh well, you know I don't mind – what's one more really?"

"Uh yeah, he and I…um, we have…something to discuss after dinner…potions," she held her breath. Stupid, she thought. So stupid. She had always been such a bad liar.

"Oh yes, well I'm sure that the two of you could teach each other quite a bit in that department!" she said. Maggie sighed with relief.

Dinner went on for at least two hours, just as it did every night. Sirius loved to regale the boys with stories about his days at Hogwarts with Harry's father, James while Molly shot disapproving looks across the dinner table. Harry had grown up without a father, and Sirius had been locked away in Azkaban since James had died. Now that Harry and his godfather were reunited, it was obvious to everyone that when Sirius looked at Harry, he saw James sitting there. It was an easy mistake to make – Harry looked just like his father, down to the glasses and the hair that would never lie quite flat. The only exception was his eyes. Everyone who knew his mother, Lily, could see that Harry had her eyes.

They finished eating dessert and leaned back in their chairs sipping coffee. Severus arose from the end of the table and looked at Maggie. "I believe, Ms. Prewett, that you had something that you wanted to show me?"

Molly went on telling a story, but Harry, Ron and Hermione looked from Severus to Maggie and then exchanged puzzled glances with each other. It was odd enough for Severus to stay for dinner, but what was he doing with Maggie? More importantly, what was she doing with him?

She smiled, "Yes, just let me get my things together and I'll...I'll see you upstairs."

She got up from the table and he held the kitchen door open for her. She walked out and he followed her upstairs without saying a word. Sirius stared after them for a few moments, then shook his head and tried to distract himself, rejoining the conversation at the table.

"I'll be right back," she said and ducked into her room. She came out a few moments later with a tray containing several bowls, a brush, a bottle with a cork stopper, and a small wooden instrument with a smooth, rounded end.

Unable to contain their curiosity, Harry, Ron, Hermione and Ginny had excused themselves from the table with excuses about getting started on their reading. The twins stayed at the table while Sirius told them about the time he and James tried making their own dungbombs to sell to their fellow students at Hogwarts. They made it to the upstairs hallway in time to pass Maggie with her tray. The potions had a strong smell of almonds with a hint of orange. She knocked on the door to the professor's room and disappeared inside.

"What do you reckon that's all about?" asked Ron

"I dunno," Harry replied, still staring at the door to the room.

"Bloody hell," said Ron, making a face and shaking his head.

The room was small and lined with old furniture. A larger four-poster bed stood in the center on the creaking wooden floor. Dim gaslights shone from all four walls, supplemented by an oil lamp on the dressing table. Severus Snape stood at the foot of the bed next to a trunk and a small table, where Maggie laid her tray. He stared at its contents for a moment and then began to unbutton his robe. He walked past her and shrugged off the top of his robe, letting it fall around his waist.

"Front or back first," she asked, trying to sound normal when she really just felt hopelessly awkward. She was used to dealing with people - it was her job - but something about Severus Snape made her uneasy. He hardly ever spoke and when he did, he used as few words as possible. She knew that the kids did not like him - that he desperately wanted to teach Defense Against the Dark Arts at Hogwarts, fueling their speculation that he was still somehow involved with He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. She was sure that this was just adolescent gossip. Dumbledore was the smartest wizard she knew, and she for one, would not second-guess him.

He looked at her without saying a word and pulled the chair out from the dressing table. He spun it around and sat in it backwards, with his back facing toward her. She paused for a moment, slightly perplexed, and once again examined the red marks on his back. She placed her left hand on his shoulder and dipped her right thumb into one of the bowls, then traced it over one of the rough welts. Immediately, the pain in the scar subsided. Again and again, she traced the oil over the sores and slowly, the pain evaporated. He suddenly became aware of her left hand, which was gently rubbing his shoulder and neck as she worked. It had been a long time since he'd been without the pain, and he hadn't remembered ever feeling this good. His head was starting to swim and he started to feel almost dizzy as the tension in his body disappeared along with the pain. He felt almost completely powerless, like she had placed a charm on him and was somehow taking control, but he didn't care. He just wanted to keep feeling this way. Slowly, his eyelids began to droop until he could barely keep them open

"All done! Turn around and I'll do the front."

His eyes snapped open; he shook himself awake and turned around in the chair. She pulled another chair up next to him, facing in the opposite direction, so close that their legs were nearly touching. She studied his face for a moment. He looked away. She began to repeat her routine, and this time, he paid attention to what he was doing. With her hand on one of his shoulders, she traced an oily potion over his scars with her thumb, then dipped a long, soft brush into another one of the bowls and painted a cool paste over the oil. Finally, she used the round wooden instrument to apply a warm, waxy potion over the first two. When she was done, she smiled.

"Turn around and look in the mirror." He did not want to look at himself in the mirror. He hadn't looked in a mirror in so long, he could scarcely remember the last time. He hesitated. She smiled encouragingly. Slowly, he stood up from the chair and turned around, leaning on closed fists on the dressing table. He did not look at his face in the mirror but instead looked at the welts on his chest. They were still there, but he couldn't believe what he saw. The potions had absorbed into them, leaving only pale pink marks instead of the angry red ones that had been there for the past fifteen years. His face softened. He looked up in the mirror and saw her face behind him, beaming. He almost managed a smile himself.

"Thank you," was all he could manage.

"You're very welcome! I'll probably have to do this every night at least until you go back to work. After that, we'll see. You can make the potions yourself – do you have anyone at Hogwarts who can do this for you?"

He turned around and stared at her as she packed up her tray. "No, I don't think so."

She smiled again, "Well, that's not for a few days anyway, so we'll see what we can do between now and then."

He had put his arms back into their sleeves and was buttoning up his robe. "Thank you again, Ms. Prewett."

"I'll see you tomorrow night, then." She picked up the tray and went back to her room. She could hear voices down the hall, coming from the direction of Harry and Ron's room. Hers was empty for the moment, and she locked her potions away in her trunk just before Harry, Ron, Ginny and Hermione came through the door.

The next day, Maggie and her sister got down to the work of cleaning out the drawing room cabinets, which were full of Black family heirlooms. They had to act quickly – Kreacher, the Black family house elf with an unnatural devotion to the late Mrs. Black, had a tendency to abscond with those artifacts intended for the trash bin. The other Weasleys and their friends had all been given tasks by Molly and were busy upstairs taking care of a nasty infestation of bundimun that they had found in a corner of the hallway near the ceiling. Their secretions could rot away the house, but if they could harvest it, made a great cleaning solution in diluted form.

Molly was covered from head to toe in dust and sweat. She had been working non-stop since here arrival at the house weeks earlier. Maggie was staring at her with concern and paused in her work. Sirius noticed her furrowed brow and realized what she was thinking.

"Molly, take a break, why don't you?" he said, smiling. "You've been working so hard. Your sister and I can finish up here."

Molly looked up, slightly surprised. She looked from Sirius to her sister and back to Sirius who was grinning and staring at Maggie.

"Oh!" she exclaimed, returning from some deep state of meditation that she descended into when she got into her housework. "Oh. Yes. Yes, well, it's almost time for tea anyway – I'll go put a pot on." She untied her apron and left the room. Sirius turned to Maggie and smiled. She sighed and sat on the sofa, causing a cloud of dust to rise up around her. She stood up again, coughing. Her hair was mussed and her face dirty from working all day. Sirius reached his hand toward her face to rub away a bit of dirt. She froze and looked up into his face. He smiled and she smiled back at him then looked down shyly. He leaned in closer to her.

"Ahem," someone cleared their throat at the other end of the room, causing Maggie and Sirius to jump and separate. It was Severus Snape.

"Miss Prewett?" he looked toward her.

"Oh, yes," she said awkwardly, clearing her own throat. "I'll be right there Severus." She turned to Sirius and smiled apologetically, following the professor from the room while Sirius stared after them in bewilderment.

She followed him up the stairs toward his bedroom, her heart racing. She thought that it was from her close encounter with Sirius, but Severus Snape always made her pulse quicken for some reason. Sirius was very handsome and she enjoyed his flirtatious attention, but he was – well – juvenile, she thought. Severus was a man of few words, and the mystery intrigued her. Her heart just ached for him - for what he had been through and for the burden he carried.

They continued their nightly treatments in secret, raising the suspicions of the youngest members of the household.

"You stay out of it now, Ron, Ginny, d'you hear me?" Molly admonished, "It's none of your business. He is the Potions Master, after all, and she must be especially interested in potions, in her line of work." She worried, however, that her sister just could not leave her job behind and relax a bit. Just like Severus – the two of them are made for each other, she caught herself thinking, and laughed in spite of herself. Made for each other? Maggie, well, she at least had a personality, but Molly certainly didn't think there was anyone quite 'made' for Severus. She had nothing against him, and she tried to trust him. He hadn't proven himself untrustworthy after all, at least not to her. Everyone makes mistakes and deserves a second chance, and she would certainly allow him that. Part of her almost felt sorry for him, since some other people weren't willing to give him that chance.

A few days before school was to begin at Hogwarts, Molly was up at her usual early hour to prepare breakfast when she heard footsteps descending the staircase into the kitchen.

"Arthur, is that you? Oh – Good morning, Severus. You're up early."

"Good morning Molly," he said quietly. "Yes, I have to get back to Hogwarts this morning.

"So early?" she asked. She waved her wand and the coffee pout flew up from its resting point on the counter and poured some of its contents into a mug, which she handed to the professor.

"Thank you," he smiled weakly. "Yes, I have work to do before the students arrive."

"How will you be going, then?"

"Apparating into Hogsmeade and walking over. I've already sent my trunk ahead."

"Ah!" said Molly, putting a plate in front of him.

"Thank you," he smiled and finished his breakfast in silence while Molly flitted about the kitchen. He tried to think of a way to tell her to send his regards to her sister, as he had not had the courage to bid his goodbye himself. By telling her, he was afraid, he would only increase the chance that she would find out about his secret, as he was sure she would wonder why it was that he should single her out above the others. He finished his breakfast with regret and Molly cleared his plate.

"Thank you again, Molly. Please send my regards to your family," was all he could manage.

"Very good then. We'll see you soon, I believe."

He nodded toward her, then turned and exited the room. She heard a crack from the other room, and he was gone. Not even a minute later, another set of footsteps was heard on the stairs. Maggie appeared, looking sleepy in her pajamas, rubbing her eyes.

"Oh, Maggie! You just missed the professor. He's gone back to Hogwarts"

"Hogwarts? The professor? Snape?"

"Yes," Molly laughed. "He's the only professor we've got still living here, isn't he?"

Maggie's brow furrowed, "Gone back? But why?"

"He lives there, Maggie – not here. He was only just staying here on business of the Order, but he has classes to teach, and the students will be arriving in just a few days."

To her surprise, her heart sank at the news. She could not have expected him to say goodbye to her, she supposed, but he had not even so much as told her he'd be returning to school. She knew he would have had to eventually, and that the time was coming soon, but he hadn't said anything to her. She hadn't been prepared for this sudden departure.

In the weeks following the start of the new school year, Molly, Maggie and Sirius busied themselves with cleaning up the house during the day and staying up late at night drinking butterbeer and telling stories about work and their days as students at Hogwarts - Sirius' favorite subject. Maggie had sent Severus the recipes for the potions she'd used on him but had since received an owl from him telling her that he was unable to use them himself. She had sent him an owl in return that she would visit in a few more days. Molly and Arthur were heading back to the Burrow for the weekend anyway. Maggie was enjoying her new life as a housekeeper, finding plenty of time for long walks and lots of reading. The weather had been pleasantly cool, and she found herself spending much of her time taking long walks outside thinking about her newest patient and not missing work at all.

She left for Hogwarts with a pile of packages sent from Molly for each of her own kids, plus Harry and Hermione. She had several visits that she wanted to make while at she was there, but she was especially worried about the Potions Master and wanted to check on him first. The students were having dinner in the Great Hall when she arrived, but Professor Snape was not in his place at the head table. She turned around and went down the long spiral staircase into the dungeon. A chill ran up her spine as she descended. She pulled her robe up around her neck as the temperature dropped several degrees. Her footsteps echoed down the long corridor, and the torches on the wall cast ominous shadows on the stone. Professor Snape lived at the very end of the hall. It seemed to be a very long walk, and she felt her heart pounding in her chest as she approached the heavy oak door with the large iron handles. It sounded like someone was pacing behind it, but she did not hear voices. She knocked tentatively on the wood of the door, but her knocks just seemed to fade into the heavy oak. She placed her bag on the ground and picked up a heavy iron knocker with both of her hands. The loud clangs were amplified in the cold stone hallway, and she looked around to see if anyone was coming. The pacing on the other side of the door stopped, and the footsteps walked in her direction.

The heavy door swung open, and there stood Professor Snape, looking paler now than she'd ever seen him, beads of sweat across his forehead. He stood silently in the doorway and she entered the room. He did not move, but swung the door shut over her shoulder with his right hand. He looked at her stunned expression and suddenly, he found himself with her face in his hands. She dropped her bag and to his surprise stepped closer to him. Placing her arms around his waist, she took another step toward him and rested her head against his chest. He took a deep breath and sighed, stroking the back of her head and burying his face in her soft red hair. They stood there for a long time. She wanted to look at him, to try to find a clue in his face as to what had brought on this bizarre change, but she just stood there listening to his heartbeat while he caressed her hair.

Finally, he leaned back from her and she loosened her arms from his waist. He looked her in the eye for the briefest moment, but then quickly pulled his hands from her face and turned away.

"Severus, what's the –" he was feverishly unbuttoning the top of his robe and she could already see that the welts had turned angry and red again. She was silent. She opened her mouth to say something, but could not. He pulled his arms out from his sleeves and the robe fell around his waist. She walked toward him, examining his wounds.

"Severus...these wounds…they must have been made by a very powerful dark wizard," she said, shaking her head in bewilderment. Only someone with great malice could have given someone wounds so severe that they came back even after multiple treatments - one whose desire for power was so great that they had given their very soul in their quest for it.

"Yes," he replied to her amazement, "They were, and I'm sure I don't have to tell you which one."

She nodded and then slowly shook her head. Surely he must be talking about the Voldemort – she had suspected this, but it still didn't answer all of the questions she had about the Potions Master and his mysterious past as a Death Eater. She stood there for a moment thinking that she didn't know what to do, and then remembered that she did indeed know what to do and that had brought potions with her for that very reason. She quickly went to her bag and took out a bottle with a glass stopper. Instead of going over each wound with her thumb, she poured a small amount of the liquid into her palms and began to rub the oil into his chest. He looked up and sighed, finally relieved of the pain that had come back almost as soon as her treatments had stopped. She massaged the oil in circles on his skin while she examined each of the wounds. He looked down at her face as she worked on him, and before he knew what he was doing, her face was again in his hands and he was kissing her with a passion and intensity neither one had ever felt before. She stiffened briefly, stunned, and then relaxed, completely letting go of herself and kissing him back.

Suddenly, he stopped and pressed his forehead to hers while they caught their breath. His pulse was racing and she could feel it in his hands…or was that her own? Then, as quickly as it had happened, he let go and backed away from her. "I'm so sorry, forgive me. Forgive me, please. I don't know what happened. I-"

"Severus - It's okay."

He shook his head and began to button up his robe.

"Please - I - I'm not done. Please, let me finish." She hoped that he would not expel her from his room before she could treat his wounds. She could see that he was in terrible pain. He stopped buttoning and sat down in his chair, looking defeated.

Maggie continued to care for his wounds in silence. When she was finished, he looked up at her in the mirror. "Thank you," he said, looking apologetic. "I'm so sorry."

"There's no need to apologize." She felt like she should say something else, but what? I liked it? It wasn't inappropriate? Somehow, she could think of nothing to say that sounded quite right. There was an awkward silence while she packed her potions into her bag.

"Shall I show you to your room, then?" he asked, buttoning up his robe.

She cleared her throat, "That would be good, yes."

"You're probably hungry. The staff will bring you whatever you want. You have a private bath as well. Nobody will bother you there."

"Thank you. I should stay for a few more days, at least, until we can get those under control. Perhaps the potions aren't strong enough."

"They work well."

"Yes, but only when you use them." He raised his eyebrows and almost smiled. "Severus, you don't have to be in pain all of the time."

His expression changed and he looked almost sad, regretful. They had reached her room on the fourth floor near the infirmary, far from the cold darkness of the dungeon. He opened the door for her. A frilly pink canopy bed stood in the middle of the room on a plush carpet. There was a dressing table and several overstuffed chairs for reading. A tea tray with a steaming teapot and several cakes sat on a low table in the sitting area.

"I hope it will do."

"Certainly. I mean, it certainly will." It was spacious and brightly lit, a far cry from the Potions Master's dark quarters. It was perhaps the most luxurious room that Maggie had ever seen. "Thank you, Severus."

"Good Night," he bowed. If you need anything, call on the house elves. They'll be happy to get you whatever you'd like."

"Thank you. Good night."

"Good Night, Ms. Prewett."

The door closed behind him and she was alone. Things had certainly taken a turn for the unexpected. She clenched her eyes tightly and rubbed her face, sinking into one of the big easy chairs. She felt like it must have been a dream. The kiss, those marks…her heart was breaking for him and yet, she was still terribly confused. There were still so many unanswered questions – and the only person who knew the answers to them would not easily give them up. She knew one of his secrets, and it was tearing her apart. All that she wanted was to take away his pain. She felt as if all of her training in healing led up to this one moment, this single patient. She'd heard others say that if they could only help one person, then their life as a healer would be worth it, and never did that mean more to her than it did just then. She found herself longing to be back in the dungeon with him, as if her touch, her very presence would somehow heal him. Was this some terrible penance? Would he have to pay forever for the sins of his past? Not if she could help it.

She sat for a long time in the chair. The sun sank beneath the horizon and a cool breeze blew through the open window as darkness descended on the grounds of Hogwarts. She arose and walked to the window. Far below, she could see the lights of the groundskeeper's cabin and the darkness of the forest beyond it. She smiled as she recalled her days at Hogwarts playing quidditch and gossiping with her friends on the grounds. Back then she had no idea where her life would take her. Everything she needed had been right here at the school. Those days seemed so long ago, when all she cared about were final exams and winter ball dates – things that seemed so important at the time.

There was a knock on her door and she jumped.

"Yes?"

"Maggie, it's me – can I come in?" it was Severus' voice, but he somehow sounded somehow different.

"Come in, Severus. What's wrong?"

He looked slightly taken aback by the question.

"Maggie, I…I feel I owe you an explanation, I –"

"There's no need to explain anything - it's alright – "

"No, I mean, I know-" he closed his eyes and sighed, "I know what you must have heard about me, and I feel I need to tell you the truth about me, about how I got here, how I got these scars." She stared for a moment. She was curious, and quite surprised by his sudden forthrightness.

"Please, sit down."

"Thank you." He sat on the sofa. She sat down next to him and turned to face him. She put one of her hands over his. Her heart began to race and she could feel the heat rising up her neck. She stood up quickly

"Would you like some tea?"

"Thank you, yes." She poured two cups of tea and sat back down beside him. He drew in a deep breath.

"When I was a student here, at Hogwarts," he began, "No, even before that. Let me say that my home life was not a happy one. My father was a Muggle and my mother a witch. As I said, it was not a happy home. There was…there was a lot of violence. When it became apparent that I was a wizard, my father couldn't handle it, and he took it out on my mother. I thought that it was my fault. When I got into Hogwarts, I swore that I would learn everything I could about magic, and that I would become a very powerful wizard so that I could protect my mother from him. Unfortunately, she took quite ill when I was in my second year and died shortly afterwards."

"A few years after I finished school, I met Lord Voldemort. He promised me everything that I ever wanted, specifically, power over my enemies, over those that would hurt me and my family. I know now that I was weak, and that he knew it. He targets those with vulnerabilities and exploits their weakness for his own gain. He told me that he had a special assignment for me, and that he would reveal it to me in time. He made me feel like I was the only wizard capable of carrying out this 'special assignment'. I fell for it. I took an oath of allegiance to him and was given this." He rolled up his sleeve and revealed a mark on his inner wrist in the shape of a skull with a snake protruding from its mouth. It sent a cold shiver through Maggie.

"I'm sorry," he said, "I didn't mean to-"
"No, it's okay, go on – I'm listening."

He sighed and again closed his eyes. He stood up and began to pace. "Voldemort knew that my childhood was unhappy, but he also knew that I did not have an easy time here at Hogwarts. You see, he had spies - servants faithful to him who had known me then and told him everything he needed to know to lure me into his web."

" His spy – Peter Pettigrew, told him about my rather unhappy relationship with Sirius Black and James Potter." He paused and gave a half-smile. "James and Sirius and Peter were great friends, but they used their friendship and popularity at the expense of others, namely me. If it weren't for Lily – I still don't know what she saw in him – it would have been much worse. She kept them in line and refused Potter's advances. Anyway, my 'special assignment'? To kill Lily and James Potter."

She gasped. Her eyes were big as saucers, "Harry's parents?"

"Yes. I hated Potter, but I couldn't bring myself to kill him, and I owed so much to Lily. She was always kind to me – she stood up for me when I had nobody else. I certainly could never have harmed her."

"So what did you do?"

"I refused him. And one does not refuse the Dark Lord. I thought that he would kill me – I still do not know why he let me live. Perhaps it is because I am meant to suffer for what I did." He paused again, this time for a moment longer, staring out the window, contemplating yet again the reason his life was spared. "I did put up a fight. I ended up with these scars."

"When I heard what had happened to Lily and James, I felt terrible. I felt responsible. I especially felt responsible to Harry."

"To Harry?" Maggie was confused. She had overheard many conversations between Harry and her nephew Ron. They were convinced (as was she after overhearing them) that Professor Snape absolutely had it in for Harry.

"You look confused – yes, to Harry. I immediately went to Dumbledore and told him everything. I told him that I alone was responsible for Lily and James' deaths. I wanted to do something – I wanted to protect Harry. I felt that I owed them that much – especially Lily. Dumbledore had already taken care of sending Harry to live with his aunt and uncle, where he would be specially protected, but in his great wisdom and compassion, he told me that I could take on a teaching position here at Hogwarts, and that Harry would come here to study when he was old enough. I could look out for him then."

All of this news came as quite a shock to Maggie. Harry, Ron, Hermione – indeed, most of the Weasley family were sure that Snape had it in for Harry. Although she had to admit that most of their suspicions turned out to be false, like the time that the Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor, Quirrell, placed a curse on Harry's broom during a quidditch match. The friends had suspected Snape, but it turns out that it was he who had performed a countercurse on the broom to keep Harry from falling off. That part made sense.

"But you don't like Harry!"

"I swore to myself, to Dumbledore, and most of all, to Lily, that I would protect him and keep him out of harm's way if I possibly could. Every time I look at him, though, I see James, and the hatred just keeps coming back as fresh as if we were back here as students at this very school. I am also a Slytherin – a house whose members are very concerned about purification of the wizard family lines. Remember, I'm a half-blood. It was a great surprise to me that Voldemort wanted me at all. I have a fine line to walk here. Many former Slytherin were Death-Eaters, and many of our current students' parents were once aligned with the Dark Army as well. Mr. Potter is a symbol to them – a constant reminder of the Dark Lord's fall from power. As long as I can protect him from harm, I will, as a debt to his mother. That does not make him my favorite student."

"Since I left the Dark Army and came back to Hogwarts, I have devoted myself to the study of Defense Against the Dark Arts. It is of special interest to me, but Dumbledore refuses to let me take the position as professor."

"Why?"

He managed another half-smile, "I don't know, but perhaps it has something to do with the fact the Hogwarts cannot manage to keep their Defense Against the Dark Arts professors for more than a year. Anyway, the position could make me vulnerable to attacks from those who still support Voldemort and think I failed him, and it could put Hogwarts in great jeopardy. I know that Dumbledore trusts me, but perhaps he is not willing to go so far. I will not forsake his trust again."

They sat in silence. He studied her face, furrowed with concern, processing all that he had told her. She sighed and looked up at him, managing a weak smile. For the first time, he met her gaze. It all made so much sense, but why hadn't he told anyone but Dumbledore before her? She suspected that Dumbledore knew a great many secrets about a great many wizards besides the professor. And if he could trust his Potions Master, then so could she.

"I – I don't – " she shook her head.

"You don't have to. You don't have to say anything. I just thought you should know," he said quietly, staring into his lap. He stood up and bowed "Good Night, Ms. Prewett – Maggie"

"Wait!" she exclaimed. He looked startled. "Don't go…don't…don't go. Please, just stay here with me." He stopped abruptly, turned and looked at her.

"Maggie, I – I can't. I'm sorry"

She turned away from him and stared back out the window. He stood in the doorway feeling awkward, never having found himself in this situation before. He closed the door and went to her. Standing close behind her, he placed his hands on her shoulders and gathered her hair into his hands just as she had on the morning she'd first discovered his secret. He said nothing, but stroked her hair. He didn't know what to say, but stood there while intense desire built up in him. He wanted to stay, he wanted to stay all night with her, but he just couldn't imagine he had anything that she needed, and he never wanted to feel as if he needed anyone. He had lived his life alone, he had learned to count on only himself. Of course, everything had changed just moments before. He had let her in on his biggest secrets – secrets previously only known to him and to Dumbledore. He had never imagined trusting anyone enough to tell them about his past.

As they stood there, she found herself simultaneously wanting him to stay and wishing he would leave her alone. She wanted to wrap herself up in his arms. She had put her heart and soul into caring for him, worrying about him, wishing that she could take away his pain and she needed someone to care for her. All of her life, she had been the independent one, always keeping a smile on her face, never letting anyone close. It was her job, after all, to care for others with problems. Her own life was so small and simple compared with the issues of her patients. She was supposed to take care of people, not be taken care of herself. Lately, though, she found herself longing for more. She was tired – tired of giving and never receiving, and for the first time in her life, away from the hospital, she wanted more.

She regained her composure at last and turned toward him with a forced smile. "Okay, then. Good night, Severus."

"Maggie, I – "

"It's okay, Severus, I'm alright, really. Good night."

He kissed her gently on the forehead. "Good night."

He turned away from her and left her alone.