Broken Chains

Golden light cast purple shadows like prison bars across Albus Dumbledore's desk. When had twilight come, he wondered. Silently he cast Lumos. He tended to rely on silent magic more than ever, in these dark times. The less people knew about his thoughts and intentions, the less they could reveal under torture. It sometimes seemed to Albus as if the silence were settling over him like sand, a grain at a time. Someday it would engulf him, and he'd never be found again. As if in answer to this thought, Fawkes fluttered to his shoulder to peck affectionately at his ear.

He had finally sorted all the applications into yes, no, and absolutely not, except for one "no" scroll, which kept reappearing in the "yes" pile. When he aimed his wand at it and intoned, "finite incantatum," all the "yes" scrolls burst into flames. Fawkes watched the blaze from Albus' shoulder with interest, as if expecting a chick to emerge from the ashes. Albus seized the culprit, read the name at the top and chuckled.

"Well, Severus Snape, this is certainly not the way to convince me to hire you. Absolutely not!"

In spite of himself, he looked over the scroll again, still impressed with the accomplishments, test scores, and inventions, of its sender.

He remembered Severus Snape; a gangly boy whose hunched shoulders, bright, unblinking black eyes, and mercilessly sharp, bony features, reminded him of a crow. The boy seemed painfully shy, until asked about one of his favorite topics, and then the hunched shoulders would relax, the long arms spread like wings, and the voice, velvety and dark as chocolate, would mesmerize the listener, until Severus finished describing his pet theory or discovery. And then he would fold himself back up.

It was painful to talk to Severus. The boy was quick to react to anger, slow to forgive. His craving for approval and love was too deep, and too frustrated. Watching him mask it with defiance and rudeness, was like watching someone scribble over a beautiful painting or shatter a perfectl crystal. Something in the child was broken, and though it was always clear he craved to be mended, he showed utter disdain to anyone who tried, or so it always appeared to Albus.

Albus was pleased to note that the boy had managed to rack up quite a few awards and prizes for his research and discoveries. Why wasn't he an auror, or a potions researcher for the ministry, he wondered. Why would a man, consumed with the need for recognition, shy, devoted to research and theory, ever want to spend his days teaching?

The answer, Dumbledore thought, lay in his references. Igor Karkaroff, Lucius Malfoy, Aloysius Black, Horace Slughorn. Mostly deatheaters, or Slytherins. No doubt he was ordered to get the job by Tom Riddle himself.

Which meant he was highly motivated. Very highly motivated indeed.

Albus removed his half-moon spectacles and rubbed his eyes. He had to harden his heart, and he hated that. Weighing the life of an errant former pupil, against the lives of innocent children, Albus had to protect the children. He could not risk having a teacher who would recruit or spy for the Deatheaters. Snape had made his bed and would have to lie in it, however deadly it turned out to be for him.

He sent the standard rejection owl to Severus Snape, as the sun set, and went to confer with the Order of the Phoenix, still feeling a strange sadness over all the Slytherin children whom he had somehow failed to protect from Riddle. Too late, now, for so many of them, now murdered or worse, murdering.

When Albus arrived at work the next morning, Severus Snape was already waiting by the gargoyle, holding his standard rejection letter, a look of stony determination on his face. He didn't look as though he'd slept much.

Albus managed a breezy tone. "So, you received your letter. I'm sorry, Severus, but I don't have time to answer questions about it just now-things are very hectic. I promise to discuss it with you later. Come back at noon."

"Headmaster, I must speak with you alone. Now." Please don't make me do this out here, Dumbledore heard in his head. I must do it in any case. So Severus Snape was a fellow nonverbal caster. Albus lifted a snowy eyebrow, impressed. "Fizzing whizbees," he said to the gargoyle. He paused, beckoning. "Well? Come along, Severus-I shall make the time for what you have to say."

If only for the Slytherin children, who have slipped through our fingers over the years, he thought silently.

As they ascended in awkward silence, Albus noticed that Severus looked taller, and, if possible, even thinner and paler than ever. He could no longer be called a boy. There was a bit of stubble on his throat and chin.

He wore his jet black hair pulled back at the nape of his neck with an ornate silver clasp, showing the thin whiteness of his neck, and the gaunt sharpness of his jaw. Albus couldn't decide whether it was flattering or not, but he had a hard time looking away. Severus gave him a questioning look with those dark unfathomable eyes, as crowlike as ever. Albus shrugged and looked away, wondering if the younger man were reading his mind. He cast a silent Legilimens, which was met with complete blankness. So Severus Snape was an Occlumens, and one who moreover expected his mind to be read. This could be a dangerous meeting, he thought.

Once safely in his office, surrounded by his silver pendulums, gyroscopes, and various whirligigs, Dumbledore spoke. "Now, Severus," he asked pleasantly, "what is it you had to tell me? Please, sit. Sherbert lemon?" he asked, conjuring a tea tray, lemons, and biscuits from thin air. Dumbledore remembered Snape couldn't stand lemon, but felt he should ask anyway, for politeness' sake.

"Just tea, thank you, Professor." Snape sat uneasily picking at his sleeve, face ashen. "I had intended to ask you why I was not hired, but that no longer matters. I assume you know that when I met you at Three Broomsticks the other day, I overheard Sybil Trelawney's prediction."

Dumbledore nodded gravely, adding three sugar cubes to his tea. "Yes, I did know. That is why Aberforth threw you out of the building. I assume you've already reported it to your master?"

Severus had the decency to look ashamed. "I'm surprised you didn't obliviate me. It's what I would have done."

"Perhaps I should have. Why are you here?" The two locked gazes. Severus looked away first, staring ruefully down at his black sleeve.

"To turn myself in. I didn't know he would act on it now. I thought, perhaps, when they were grown….but not now." The black eyes glittered strangely, and Snape took a nervous sip of tea.

There was no sound from the sneakoscope on Dumbledore's desk. No reflection in his foeglass. Moreover Fawks gave a mildly curious chirp and cocked his head at Severus, but his feathers didn't ruffle. No one's occlumency was that good, Dumbledore thought. He cast another silent legilimens, and this time the blankness rippled.

"What have you done, Severuzs?" He asked gently.

"Enough to put me in Azkaban." Snape said emotionlessly, staring into his teacup. The blankness wavered and a few images flickered-hooded meetings, broken windows, "Mudblood" painted in blood across a door…..Snape shuddered. And the thought fluttered into Dumbledore's mind and echoed. No, not an echo. A request. Put me in Azkaban.

"I might be able to prevent that, if you tell me everything." Dumbledore said reasonably. "Particularly how you were recruited. But I will use Legilimency, you know. And veritaserum."

Snape nodded. "I would expect no less." He smiled wanly and met the older wizard's gaze. He held out the teacup as if surrendering a shameful secret.

Dumbledore took the teacup from Snape's pale, shaking hand, and added the proper dose of veritaserum. The young wizard downed the cup in one desparate gulp.

"Accio Penseive," Dumbledore commanded.

The Penseive appeared on the desk between them, a heavy stone basin filled with what looked like water, intricate knotwork carvings of birds circling its brim. Snape took his wand and began twirling silvery, cobweblike strands around it, dropping them into the basin.

When the luminous spiralling strands began to unravel, revealling Snape's memories, Snape startled so that Dumbledore was afraid for a moment he'd topple the Penseive to the floor. Good thing it's unbreakable, he thought.

Snape sat in the lap of the snake-faced Voldemort, whispering into his ear. The red, reptilian eyes narrowed in satisfaction.
"As the seventh month dies," he breathed. "This fits in with what I have learned elsewhere. Between what you, and the secret-keeper have told me, I can now attack with precision. You are soon to get your dearest wish, my own." In the Penseive, a hand with scales like the belly of a fish, stroked Snape's glossy black hair, twining strands of it around long clawed fingers. Snape cast his eyes down, as demurely as some maiden in a fairy tale.

Voldemort crooned, "Say it again, sweet-your wish."

Next to Dumbledore, Severus tensed, and made a hissing sound. He turned his head as if unable to watch. Like a grotesque parody of a child on Santa's lap, he said sweetly, "Revenge. I want Potter to feel helpless…Black to be utterly humiliated, despised by all….and Lupin…..alone, friendless. I want them dead. All of them. Even Pettigrew. I hate them." The Dark Lord groaned happily.

"Oh, Severus. Why is revenge so attractive to you?" Dumbledore asked.

Snape gritted his teeth. "It's attainable. In a way other things aren't."

"What other things?" Dumbledore asked.

"You of all people should be able to guess," Snape said bitterly. "It is, after all, your constant watchword. You loved them like your own children, didn't you?"

"I still do, Severus." Dumbledore answered, surprised at the venomous look that Snape shot him, and even more so, when the unsubtle Occlumency spell crumbled away like a bad tooth exposing the raw nerve below. No matter what they did to me! the words screamed at him from inside Snape's mind. You didn't care what they did to me, you loved them, unconditionally...I would have done anything, anything for that! And you never even liked me, even though I tried so hard to show you what a great wizard I was! You loved them like your own, but you had no use at all for me! Oh, how I hate them!

The sheer need behind Snape's thoughts alarmed and saddened him. No student hungered like that for a teacher's love, unless he were pitifully starved for love at home….no wonder Severus fell prey to Voldemort, he thought. Was this true of ALL the Slytherin children?

Do you hate me, too, Severus? Am I part of your revenge?" Dumbledore asked mildly.

"You're as good a Legilimens as he is," Snape laughed, again, humorlessly. Hate you? I wish I did.

Voldemort in the penseive laughed at the same time, a pleasant, approving laugh. "You could have asked me for anything, my pet. But what you ask is to destroy your enemies. Very sensible. All other delights turn to ashes in one's mouth, but revenge never tarnishes. So you would have me destroy even the girl?"

Snape's hair was now wrapped around Voldemort's wrist, almost to the roots.

Snape blushed. "No, please. I'd like to keep the girl….the mudblood."

Dumbledore frowned. "You're a halfblood yourself, Severus. How can you use such language?"

"That is why." Severus said simply.

In the Penseive, the Dark Lord chuckled again, his face only inches from Snape's. "So, my pet would like a pet of his own. I shall indulge you. But first ..." It looked as if he were about to kiss Snape, then without warning Voldmort threw his arm out straight, flinging him onto the floor by the hair. He stood over the sprawled deatheater, still holding him by the hair, stepping on Snape's back as he pulled his head back sharply. "You will go back to Hogwarts," Voldemort hissed, as Snape tried to hold back a whimper of pain. "You will obtain a post, and you will report his every move to me." He let go of Snape's hair abruptly, and aimed his wand. Snape rose to his feet like a marionette, hung briefly in the air, then fell. He gathered himself to his feet and stood there, as if nothing had happened, as if he were having a pleasant conversation with Voldemort.

Dumbledore winced. "Do you enjoy this sort of treatment?" he asked.

"No," Snape answered, his voice hoarse. "But it makes him feel like talking to me. It's one way I earned his trust. That, and never showing defiance or fear."

Voldemort continued, circling Snape, who stared straight ahead like a soldier listening to a drill sargeant, "Do whatever you must, to obtain the post. Complain of my cruelty, offer him whatever you must. Otherwise, I will kill that friend of yours you think I don't know about. The one with the animals. First his animals, then him, and then you will be used for my Deatheaters to practice their cruciatus spells, before he dies in front of you, believing you betrayed him to me. And I do know of your other friend. The one you pretend to hate so much. He is not so safe as you imagine him to be. Not nearly so safe." Severus' eyes in the Penseive widened briefly then closed.

The images vanished, replaced by swirling silver and light.

"No signs of tampering," Dumbledore said after a moment. "I hoped perhaps you were exaggerating to gain sympathy. You're not, are you." It was not a question, and Snape accordingly did not answer.

"How did you come to be friends with Hagrid?" Dumbledore asked, genuinely curious.

"He's fond of monsters. 'Interesting creatures,' he calls them." Snape said. "It only stood to reason he'd be kind to me, given what I am. At first I just appreciated having a place to hide from bullies, but it was pleasant, and novel, not being hated for my condition. He was fond of Lupin, too. It impressed me that he was unafraid of either of us."

Dumbledore stroked his beard thoughtfully. So at least one person had shown Snape a kind of love, and friendship. That can make all the difference, he thought. Even if it was based on Snape being an "interesting creature." Snape chose to protect Hagrid, rather than run away. The boy had potential.

Snape spoke impatiently. "Forget that. I came to tell you that whoever the secret-keeper is, he's revealed the place to Voldemort, and the Dark Lord isn't planning to wait—he plans to attack all children who fit the prophecy-at least two. I don't even know how many. Call the aurors, now. I've told you all I know."

Dumbledore looked incredulously at Snape. "It surprised you that he would attack children?"

Snape was flushed, and his eyes brimmed briefly. "Yes," he rasped, "of course it did. I know he's done things….but those were adults, and they were plotting against him. I didn't mind helping him. I probably would have killed some of them myself, if I'd been sent. But these are….children, he plans to kill…." His voice cracked and he clenched his jaw shut, a sneer twisting his face in the effort, Albus realized, to hold back a flood of emotion.

But Severus, Albus thought, but did not say out loud. Look at how he treats you, and you're barely more than a child yourself. What did you think children were, to such a person? He resisted the urge to put his arms around the lad, let him cry on his shoulder. Instead he kept his demeanor businesslike. Severus was a very proud young man, and might not appreciate being thought of as a hurt, betrayed child instead.

"Accio." A chair moved under Snape, and he sank into it.

"Legilimens," Albus intoned crisply.

In the penseive the water swirled again, and revealed Snape walking in a dark corridor. The hissing voice of Voldemort issued from a door, and Snape froze, then moved nearer the door. "There is no time to waste," the voice was saying. "If I let them grow they increase in power. They must both be eliminated, the sooner the better."

Another voice sobbed something indistinctly.

Lucius Malfoy's voice was heard next. "Should I kill him now?" he asked, in a bored voice.

"Not if you want your son alive. I may need this one later for a bloodhound-keep him alive and keep him safe." Snape in the Penseive blanched, and apparated.

"Where did this take place?" Dumbledore asked.

"Near Lucius' office. I was bringing him some teething potion for Draco….I'm his godfather, you know. Stupid of me, now I think of it, not to realize….what children are to him. Merely hostages, to control their parents. Like Hagrid, and his animals." His face softened into an expression of bewilderment and sadness.

"The third voice?" Albus pressed on.

"I don't know. Shall I try to find out?" His eyes were earnest, his mind wide open and racing, no hint of a shield left. There was one question left to ask, just as a test, to see if the veritaserum was still working.

As much as the answer surprised Dumbledore, it seemed to astonish Snape more.

"Remus Lupin." He looked as though he'd coughed up a frog, and covered his mouth as if afraid more might follow it out. " Please, please don't make me say anymore. I am begging you, Headmaster….I've already endangered him enough." Nothing clouded or darkened, nothing resisted his mind, as Albus tested for occlusion. The concern for Lupin was genuine.

"Not Lily Potter?"

Snape shook his head. "No. Not Lily Potter. I simply admire her talent, and her way with people…." He sighed. "I wish…... But it isn't. And it never was. The rumor was nice, though…..it protected us….and it really infuriated Potter." He smiled nostalgically.

Albus made the decision then. "I will hire you, Severus. I will keep you out of Azkaban. But under certain conditions. Are you ready to hear them?"

Snape nodded. "First, you will have to make the Unbreakable Vow to protect this school's students from Voldemort and his followers, to the best of your ability, at all times. Can you actually promise me that?" Severus nodded quickly.

Albus cautioned, "Be certain, Severus. If you break this vow, you lose your life, and I think that would be a terrible waste. Second, and this condition is hard, Severus, you will have to tell me everything Voldemort says and does, however trivial it may seem. Finally, you will not use Occlumency against me again, not for any reason. Can you take a vow like that? I will not subject you to more danger than you are already in. If you can't swear, then I can help you go into hiding, or call the aurors, if you prefer. But if you wish to work for me, in this place, those are the conditions, and they are not negotiable."

Severus' face was unreadable, but he said, "yes, Headmaster, I would be glad to take such a vow."

"Better that, than return to your master unsuccessful, I imagine." The old man clasped Severus' left hand in his, and repeated the questions, wand aloft in his right hand.

"Do you swear to use every ability and power you have, to protect the students from danger, and from Tom Riddle, alias Voldmort, and from any of his followers?" The black eyes glowed in the brilliant light from Dumbledore's wand as Snape whispered, "I swear."

"Do you swear to tell me every detail of every assignment you are given, every favor you are asked, by Voldemort, alias Tom Riddle, called the Dark Lord, or in the name of him or any part of his organization?" The merest sliver of a smile began on Snape's face. "I swear," he said loudly, triumphantly, squeezing Albus' hand.

"And do you swear never to use Occlumency against me, even for my own protection?" The relief and happiness on Severus' face were palpable. Albus could feel the tension that drained from the boy, as he cried out, "I swear it!" The fire wreathed them both for a moment, and then Snape startled Albus by throwing his arms around him.

"Thank you," he whispered. "Thank you. You will never know what this means to me."

"Thank you, my boy," Albus said gently. "We may be able to keep the Slytherin children safe, with your help."

Albus Dumbledore hurried to Hagrid's hut, where a meeting of the Order of the Phoenix was just getting underway. His heart sank as he noticed that Sirius Black was absent. He hoped it was not Black, sobbing away in that room, spilling all he knew to Voldemort. But who else could be the secret-keeper? Lupin?

Without mentioning Black or Snape by name, he discussed his new information about the attack planned on the Potters, and the apparent security breach. Minerva McGonagall confirmed all the July births, and sent those houses special missives by owl post, warning them to take extra precautions against You Know Who, and to be on the lookout for polyjuiced visitors. Aurors port-keyed to the various addresses of July-born children, to stand guard. Voldemort delayed his attack until the Order and Ministry alike, were exhausted from waiting and watching. Then he struck.

"I was there," Snape said tiredly to Dumbledore. His eyes were hollow black tunnels, his wan face a mask of exhaustion. "I suppose you need to see what happened?" He aimed his wand at his head, and began extracting memories to put into the Penseive. "I am so, so very sorry," he continued miserably. "I had no idea the Potters had had a child this year…I didn't know Lily Potter was even pregnant. If I had, I wouldn't have given him the prophecy. I didn't know they were the ones meant. I hated him. I won't pretend I didn't. But I owed him the life debt….and I let him die. And Lily….I.." He propped himself up against a wall, as if he would sleep there. "Do I have to watch it again?" He looked imploringly at Albus.

"I'm afraid so, Severus, just so that you can guide me through it, and show me where we failed." They peered into the scene together.

A hooded figure headed up walkway to the Potter's house. "The rest of us are watching, hidden," Snape explained. "This one they trust. I couldn't see who it was." Lily Potter opened the door and let in the hooded figure. A sneakoscope rang out shrilly. In seconds the house was surrounded, and another figure had gone in. A man shouted, "Lily, take Harry and go!" There was a flash of greenish light, from inside the house. Dumbledore sighed, a heavy, painful sigh, and a tear ran down his cheek. A woman screamed.

"Step aside you silly woman," a man's voice shouted.

"Not Harry, not Harry, not the baby!" the woman screamed again.
Snape grimaced, and flinched as if something burned him. Dumbledore squeezed his shoulder sympathetically. There was another scream which stopped abruptly, as the green light flashed again.

"No," Dumbldore whispered, horriffied, "oh, no." Then there was a strange, long silence, and the sound of a baby crying. There was one more burst of light, one which filled the house like a floodlight, and poured from the windows and doors. The first hooded figure emerged from the house. "He's gone-the Dark Lord is Vanquished!" he cried, in a thin, reedy voice. "Run for your lives!" People disapparated, vanishing like soap bubbles.

Snape rushed up to the hooded figure. "Out of my way you idiot," he snapped. He shoved the unknown man aside, and dashed into the house. He stepped over the fallen body of James Potter, and found Lily next to the baby's crib, in a room painted with blue clouds and yellow stars. He knelt, checking her for signs of life. She was dead. The vision in the Penseive blurred. The child in the crib was quiet, and alert. He looked serious, as if somehow he understood what was happening around him. Snape stared at the infant a second, taking in the scar, and the eyes, before realizing he needed to hurry. He didn't waste a glance at Voldemort's body, but covered the baby in his cape. "I'm sorry, Lily," he whispered, and disapparated. The scene dissolved into silvery light.

Dumbledore nodded, cleaning his glasses and wiping silent tears from his eyes with his sleeve. He sniffled as if he had a cold. "So they're really gone. And so is he. It all happened so quickly. No idea who that first hooded figure was, I suppose?"

Snape shook his head. "Could have been Nott, or one of the ones I never speak to. It was a very stratified, status-conscious group. Could have been the Secret Keeper, for all I know, or someone using Polyjuice. It's impossible to know."

"Let me see your arm, Severus." Albus rolled up the sleeve, to behold smooth, white skin where once a charred black mark had been. "Gone. Then it's really true."

Snape smiled wanly. "There's that, at least. And at least the child is safe. No thanks to me. I haven't been completely useless to you. He gripped the edge of the desk, and wearily aimed his wand at his head again. "Avada—"

"EXPELLIARMUS!" Dumbledore shouted, knocking Severus off his feet. The wand flew into his hand. Snape hadn't dipped the wand back into the Penseive. He'd been aiming it at his head for another purpose.

Severus raised himself onto his knees, and screamed,"Why, why did you stop me? I had a life debt, you old idiot! I'll become a squib now, don't you understand? They're dead! They're dead, because of me! I gave the Dark Lord the prophecy! I as good as killed them with my own hands! I might as well have marched in, and killed the Potters myself. Not bad enough I didn't save them, I KILLED them! I'll be a prisoner, my wand snapped in two,…I would rather die. Take your revenge on me now, and kill me!"

His face contorted in fury, Dumbledore snapped, "One more death won't make it right, Severus! Your death solves nothing, except to salve your ego! If you wish to atone, and pay back your life debt, then pay it to the child! Think of someone else for a change!" More softly, he added, "No one mourns the Potters more than I. I loved them, Severus, as you well know. If I can forgive you, and I do, then the least you can do, is forgive yourself too."

There was a long, tense silence, the two staring angrily into one another's eyes. Again it was Severus who looked away first.

"Can I trust you with this?" Albus held out the black wand. Severus took it quietly. "There is still a Potter. Your powers are safe while he lives. You know that," Albus said calmly.

Snape looked doubtfully at the child, who was happily playing with dancing lights Dumbledore had conjured over his cradle.
"He's so small….and fragile. What if we can't protect him? What if he dies, Albus?"

"He's actually rather large and robust for a newborn, Severus. And he will be well protected. Never fear. If the line dies out, you will lose your powers, and even I have no charms to save them. Still, there's no need to die over it, my boy-the muggle world, I'm told, is full of wonders." Dumbledore's eyes twinkled over his half-moon spectacles.

"No one's ever left the wizarding world voluntarily to become one, have they?" Snape said drily.

"Not since the days of Wendelin the Weird, whose half-brother Osric the Odd decided to become a muggle fisherman. Even the most eccentric Muggle enthusiast hasn't ventured that far. But I shouldn't worry. Harry Potter is, I believe, a force to be reckoned with in his own right."

Severus pondered this a few minutes, watching the child attempt to swallow one of his feet, before finally clearing his throat, and saying, "Albus. If he dies, promise me you'll kill me before I become a squib."

Dumbledore refrained with difficulty from rolling his eyes. "If you become a squib, my boy, you may decide your fate at that time. You would be amazed how competent squibs are. As for summoning the dementors, or any of that Azkaban nonsense, no. I put the blame where it belongs-on Tom Riddle, who cast the killing charm. I suggest you do the same."

"Don't patronize me, Albus," Snape said, drawing just a little too close.

Albus did not retreat, but continued to look him in the eye.
"But you need a patron, dear boy, and I have begun to enjoy the role. I have seen something in you, that you yourself do not. It, far more than your magical abilities, will make you very valuable to me in times ahead."
Albus picked up a time-turner.

Hope kindled in Severus' eyes. "Are you going to…"

"Undo what just occurred? No, dear boy. If only I could. You know it would be illegal. No, I am merely going to refine a detail or two, for the sake of the child's security."

Snape raised his hands in a gesture of assent. "By all means, Headmaster. I shouldn't see this."

Dumbledore smiled. "Quite right, dear boy. There will come a time when it will be best you know nothing of these events. You will not have been the one to remove Harry from the house, nor will you know who did, or how. It's not only for Harry's sake."

Severus nodded, relieved. "You have thought of everything," he said, impressed.

"And I have you to tell me, whenever I don't. Now would be a very good time to reacquaint yourself with the dungeons, and plan your syllabus, Severus," Albus said.

Snape nodded, and turned to go.

"Severus," Albus said softly.

"Yes, Headmaster?"

"You are irreplaceable to me. Don't be careless with yourself."

"No, Headmaster."