Part XXXVI - Coming Back: Afternoon

Disclaimer: This is a non-profit tribute to the works of J.K. Rowling, who created and, together with her publishers and licensees, owns the characters and settings elaborated herein.

All my gratitude to my beta AmyLouise. Many thanks to all my kind readers and reviewers.

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Part XXXVI - Coming Back: Afternoon

Minerva walked quietly along the corridors until she reached her office. Gently, she opened the door and glanced inside as if she were looking for somebody; surprised, the portraits on the walls returned her gaze and seemed to mutely ask the reason for such cautious behaviour. Smiling, she shook her head and backed out, closing the door in silence.

Again, she strode through the corridors that were so unusually empty, following a sudden inspiration that had lit in her mind. Soon the door of the Potions Room was before her. She entered and leaned her back against the wooden panel, looking up at the walls.

Ah, this time she'd guessed right!

She narrowed her eyes in determination and advanced into the room.

"Albus," she called softly.

Sitting in one of the higher pictures...the same one in which Snape and Cornelia Hobnook had walked together several weeks before...Albus Dumbledore was contemplating the lake with unseeing eyes.

"Albus," Minerva called again, letting affection enter her tone.

He sighed and turned his back to avoid her gaze.

"Yes, Minerva?" he replied sullenly.

"Why didn't you come and join me and the others?" she asked with her most reasonable voice. "We had a splendid time watching Severus and the children fly over the Quidditch pitch. The children were so excited! You should have seen them! Lily and Al are going to be excellent players, just like their brother, but Severus was the real surprise."

A deep silence followed her enthusiastic speech. It was her turn to sigh now.

"Albus," she asked patiently, "Is there anything you would like to tell me?"

"Would anything change if I did?" he replied in an oddly childish tone.

Minerva considered him. "Perhaps you could try," she offered. Then, at his persistent silence, she announced, "As you like, Albus. I'll leave you alone, then."

The old wizard inhaled.

"Severus doesn't want to speak to me," he said, still not looking at her. He may as well have been speaking to the lake. "He doesn't even want to listen to me."

"Oh!" Minerva smiled sadly. "But I thought you were used to such irritating behaviour."

"This time is different," he replied and finally turned to face her. His eyes were suspiciously reddened.

"Why?" she asked.

"Because... because..." Abruptly, his frustration burst out. "Ah, nonsense! I don't have to justify myself! He is stubborn and selfish!"

"Selfish?" she replied with an incredulous tone. "He spent his whole life in atonement, just to be repaid by hate and contempt."

"Well, I don't see it that way!" Dumbledore exploded. "He made a mistake! I offered him a chance! He should be grateful!"

"I see," she said quietly and crossed her arms. "So, if this is what you think, why are you complaining?"

"I would like him to see reason."

"This is not a matter of reason, Albus. This is a matter of heart." Her eyes dug into his eyes, and she shook her head with a sigh. "Perhaps you should give your heart a chance."

His lips thinned stubbornly.

She waited in hopeful silence.

Then, seeing that Dumbledore wasn't going to give her a reply, she sighed and wordlessly left the room. Lost in their thoughts, neither of them noticed the mysterious figure who was considering the scene with pensive eyes, hidden in a corner.

*************

Albus Severus was waiting, his breath coming out in a cloud of regular white puffs. Snape turned to the other two children. It was time for a goodbye.

"I'll see you later," he began; then he saw their disappointed faces and knew that, if everything went according to his plan, he would never see James and Lily again in "this" world. He braced himself and concealed his pain under his most authoritative manner.

"Mr. Potter, please take the young lady to the castle and inform your parents that your brother will be back before dark."

"Yes, sir," James replied respectfully, and a regretful spark twinkled in his eyes.

Hearing this exchange, Lily's disillusioned expression changed into an upset one, and Snape had to force himself to remain impassive.

"Let's go!" He invited Al with a curt nod, beginning to walk. The boy was surprised at Snape's change of mood, but understanding that something was paining the man, he silently obeyed and joined him as he marched. Behind them, the calm lasted only for a few seconds.

"I want to go with them too!" Lily's acute protest exploded across the rapidly growing distance.

"Stay here!" James ordered. The urgency in the boy's tone made Snape understand that James must have physically stopped his sister's attempt to go after them. Stubbornly, the older wizard kept walking, though his heart was begging him to go back. Uncertain, Albus Severus paused, and then after an apologetic glance at his sister, he too resumed his march.

"This is Al's gift," they heard James say in his most rational tone. "You mustn't spoil it."

"My wish wasn't totally mine!" Lily said accusingly, on the verge of tears. "It was your wish, and I agreed only to help you!" She was crying now. "Aw, James, I don't want to go back to the castle!"

"Hush, Lily, Mum is waiting." The boy was evidently using all his big brother authority to soothe her. "You need to warm yourself after the flight. In the castle, there will be cake and sweets. And perhaps other surprises. Don't you want to..."

His voice gradually faded in the distance while Snape and Al walked farther and farther into the snow. The wizard raised his head at the sun...to reach the Forest, they had to do a long trip, but there was less than an hour before sunset, and the air was rapidly going from crisp to cold as a light breeze began to blow. Grey clouds were gathering on the horizon; still far away, Snape considered, but steadily approaching. The day would probably end with a snowfall or a storm.

Instinctively, he accelerated his pace, noting with a fleeting sense of approval that Al did the same. Snape glanced at the boy walking so composedly near him and felt uneasy. What to do? There were no potions or lessons to comment upon, nor books to discuss. What to talk about? What would a friend... no, what would an "uncle" say to a dearest nephew whom he was thinking of leaving forever?

"Aren't you tired, Al?" he finally asked, and the boy shook his head with a shy smile. Reassured, the wizard smiled back and allowed his thoughts to wander freely while his senses savoured the scene around him, wordlessly bidding goodbye.

Side by side, sharing the enchantment of that supernatural quietness, they crossed the hoary gardens and continued their walk till they reached the back courtyard. And there, Snape abruptly stopped.

The Whomping Willow was standing in front of them, its powerful branches swinging in the air as if it were playing catch with the birds flying in circles around its immense foliage.

The wizard inhaled sharply, his body nearly vibrating with emotion. Albus Severus raised his head to watch his older friend.

"Bad memories?" he asked in a whisper, and Snape nodded, unable to translate his feelings into words.

"I know," the boy went on, still whispering. But this time, his tone was growing anxious. "Dad told me. It was my grandfather, wasn't it?"

His eyes seemed to be urging Snape to speak, but the wizard didn't attempt an answer. Why torment the boy? Let Grandpa James explain his reasons to the child. Snape didn't want to spoil his last moments on the earth by remembering tales of hate and horror. Yet the boy surprised him again.

"Dad says that we should always voice our fears; that way we let them out, and they leave us free."

Snape smiled bitterly. Not a remedy he would suggest for himself at the moment. Many dark thoughts had invaded his soul, and he was struggling to keep them under control while they were threatening to overflow his spirit.

He shook his head and tried to take a step, but his legs refused to obey: a vague but increasing sensation of anguish was chaining him there. Alarmed, he renounced the fight and braced himself in anticipation, his breath coming out in imperceptible, accelerated puffs.

And while he shivered in sudden cold, a veil of mist covered his mind. He heard the boy ask something in a worried tone, but Snape was no longer with him: his spirit was focused on facing the memories that were emerging from the past. Before his very eyes, the scene seemed to blur and change in a disconcerting way. He blinked, a prisoner of his vision, and watched helplessly, lost in that new, frightening dimension.

The Whomping Willow had ceased its weird game: The big tree had suddenly stiffened in something similar to surprise, and now it seemed to stare back and somehow challenge the man waiting in the snow.

Immediately after, the snow under the tree began to quake powerfully, and with a sharp sound, the ground exploded in a confused mass of powder and debris. Two monstrous hands appeared from below: then, with horrifying slowness, a beast emerged from the tunnel. Its yellowish eyes gleamed with a vicious spark while a low growl vibrated in its half-closed mouth.

Gradually, the monster straightened itself in a grotesque parody of a man, and finally, it raised its eyes at the sky, howling its challenge at the world. Baring its fangs in a hideous grimace, it turned its head, and its eyes focussed on Snape with a malicious expression. Its body bent, and its claws glittered while it seemed to assess its adversary. Then, with an abrupt start, the beast snorted and began to run, its savage howl filling the air.

*************

"Professor Snape! Professor Snape! Are you feeling well? Please speak to me!"

Called so forcefully back from that horrible vision, Snape shuddered violently and closed his eyes, then opened them again just in time to see the monster stop in its run, writhe in impotence and disappear in a puff of smoke. The wizard blinked, trying to recover his senses, and took in the world around him.

The sun had lowered in the sky, its pale globe glowing mildly over the approaching clouds. The birds were still flying and emitting their joyous calls while the Whomping Willow had resumed its bizarre dance. Smallest in that white immensity, Albus Severus was staring at him with a worried frown.

"Do you feel all right?" the boy asked softly.

Breathing in trembling gasps, Snape raised a hand to his temple and nodded. The vision had been so real! Wordlessly, he turned his head to check the scene again as if wanting to convince himself. Everything was quiet. Everything was peaceful. His breath steadied, and his eyes searched for Albus Severus. The boy returned his gaze with a comforting smile.

"Don't worry," Al said gently, and an incongruously protective expression appeared on his face. "I am with you."

*************

They climbed the hill behind the Whomping Willow and began their descent towards the Forbidden Forest. Soon they reached a field from where Hagrid's hut, now abandoned and empty, could be seen. And there, Snape stopped again, strangled by an intense emotion. Suddenly, he realised that they were following the same path he had covered twenty years before, with Draco at his side. It had been a warm summer night, and the stars had glittered like jewels in the sky, indifferent to the crime that had been committed under their cold light.

He closed his hands into fists and tried to uncover fragments of the past, concealed under that white mantle. How many painful memories had been waiting for him outside of the castle?

Once more, his mind became lost in remembrances, and memories were quick to answer his call. Fang barking loudly, a helpless prisoner in the hut. Hagrid towering in the distance, his giant figure blurred by the night. A mad sprint, the anguish, the crumbling of a world... a frantic attempt to fulfil a plan that was developing moment by moment, and every moment could turn into a catastrophe. No hope, only horror, infinite horror and desperation. Would such an immense sacrifice be worthless?

His eyes again met Harry Potter's.

*************

Harry Potter, who had followed him and could not understood. Harry Potter, who was shouting his contempt and his pain, the same pain that Snape was also feeling.

Murderer! Traitor! Coward!

Warm little fingers were pressing his wrist, and he realised that he was trembling violently. He closed his eyelids to avoid Al's green eyes, the same eyes he had just seen in his mind.

"Memories...," he murmured and gritted his teeth with the effort of squeezing out the tears, the soothing tears that still refused to wet his eyes. "Memories are too painful for me."

"But they happened so many years ago," Al said uncertainly.

"They are still alive in my mind."

"I'm sorry. What did you see?" the boy asked softly, gently forcing the wizard to face his anguish. Again, it was night on the earth, and voiceless ghosts rose from the ground, invisible to anyone but Snape.

"Your father... your father challenged me in this field," he panted, facing the spectral figures in his mind. "He called me coward."

The boy tilted his head. "But now he knows that you are no coward," he offered timidly. "Now he thinks that you are the bravest man he ever met. That's why he gave me your name."

*************

In the castle, Ginny had welcomed back her children. Lily was still disappointed at having been left behind, so she ran into her mother's arms, looking for consolation and blaming her brother for his insistence on dragging her away. James shrugged under Ginny's frown while she embraced her little one tightly, trying to soothe her.

Soon Lily smiled again as Minerva McGonagall had shrewdly begun to praise her and her brothers on their flying skills. And with an avuncular smile, Filius Flitwick eagerly joined Minerva in offering Lily an audience. Forgetting her dismay, and evidently proud of her exploits, the girl brightened at their compliments, ready to talk about her adventure.

And then Ginny noticed and abruptly cut her off.

"Where's Al?" she asked.

Hand hovering over a platter of delicious sweets, James replied nonchalantly, "Oh, he went for a walk."

His mother was horrified. "In this cold weather? At this hour?"

"What's the problem?" James shrugged again, catching in mid-air a chocolate frog that had tried to save itself by jumping off the table. "He is with Professor Snape!"

He chomped on a morsel, then watched his mother and blushed with uneasiness at her irate look. "He promised that Al would be back before dark," he mouthed almost unintelligibly.

Ginny tightened her lips, and Minerva intervened with her calm authority.

"Don't be worried, dear. I'm sure Severus will keep his word, as he always did."

The younger woman sighed and went to look through the window.

"I can't even threaten to kill him," she helplessly murmured at the clouding sky.

*************

The sun was fading quickly, much more rapidly than Snape had expected. But he still wasn't ready to interrupt their walk, nor to separate himself from his little companion. The boy had been the bridge between himself and real life, the shield against his demons, the beginning of a new existence. An extraordinary connection had linked their spirits, giving Snape a reason to hope, to struggle, to "exist". Breaking that connection would prove to be the most painful experience the wizard had ever undergone in his life: being accepted, being trusted, and yet being forced to refuse it forever, after having so desperately needed it. He sighed. Perhaps he should say something to the boy. Prepare him. Explain.

Silently, they climbed another hill. Far in the distance, Hogsmeade was glowing in the sunset, its tiny houses and streets shining with lights. For a moment, he had the vivid impression of hearing the voices, the songs, and the toasts, all the merry noises of a feast day. He stood still and contemplated it. At his side, Albus Severus let out an exclamation of joy.

"How beautiful! Look at all the lights!"

The sunset had painted the darkening sky with streaks of orange and red. Never had he seen such a wondrous nightfall in winter. It was as if nature, too, had tried to offer him a gift, a farewell present, that made his heart tighten in regret. It was late, and he had promised that the boy would be back before dark. But he couldn't go back. Not now. There was still something he needed to do.

He savoured those last precious emotions. Life was appearing in all its splendour just when he had decided to leave it, showing him the last fireworks before closing the curtains forever. He dilated his senses to absorb as much as possible. In just one short day, he had enjoyed more emotions than he had ever experienced in his whole life.

Albus Severus was standing patiently near him. That boy had been his guardian, Snape thought. Through his innocent eyes, the older wizard had learned how to live again, how to love and to be loved.

Now Snape knew what Lucius felt when he looked at Scorpius. His mind filled with an intense emotion and a soothing conviction: No force would ever break a link like that. Not even death.

This truth reached his heart and opened its doors to peace. Yes, everything made sense now. The circle had definitely closed. It was time to leave.

He turned his back away from Hogsmeade. "Let's go," he said quietly and extended his hand to the boy. After a moment of hesitation, Al clasped it with a smile, and they entered the Forest, beginning their last walk.

*************

Darkness was slowly invading the world, so Snape raised his wand. Myriads of dancing vivid sparkles suddenly burst out of its tip, tracing a luminous path amongst the trees and creating a magical atmosphere. The boy was fascinated and watched his friend with fond admiration. Then he seemed to remember something.

"Mum says that the Forest is an awful place. She says that you sent her and her schoolmates into the Forest to punish them when you were the Headmaster," the boy whispered softly, afraid to break that awesome silence. "But Neville says that you did it to protect them instead. Mum is not happy when they share their memories."

Of his last year, Snape thought, and a flow of images once more filled his mind with surprising vividness. The Carrows... the long and lonely walks along the corridors... the malevolent spark in the eyes of his colleagues... Minerva watching him in silent contempt and immense regret... But he had had no choice! He could not speak, chained as he was to Dumbledore's plan. And nobody ever suspected anything... nobody ever asked if, inside that dark brooding man, there were a heart, feelings, or emotions.

They had eyes, yet they could not see, he thought bitterly. But the boy who was walking so trustfully near him had redressed that situation. He had fought for their friendship. Snape felt a warm wave of consolation. Those were his last precious moments, and he wanted to leave his existence filled only by those sweet feelings.

The night had fallen, but warmed and guided by the dancing lights, both the man and the boy had forgotten time and weather. Animals peeked out hesitantly from the trees. Rabbits, deer, a somnolent badger, hares, and even a marten slowly gathered to welcome the visitors.

And finally, Albus Severus widened his eyes. A magnificent unicorn, glowing in pale splendour, advanced slowly towards them. Its mane was swinging fluidly on its powerful yet graceful body, and its eyes were mild and trustful.

Excitedly, Al tugged Snape's hand.

"May I touch it?" he whispered, an intense desire vibrating in his voice.

"Of course you may," Snape replied with the same soft tone, and they moved closer to the magnificent creature. The unicorn didn't draw back, but let Al stroke its glowing hair; the boy gulped in emotion when the animal bent its head to lick his hands, and then he giggled at being tickled and turned to look at Snape with starry eyes.

"Isn't it beautiful?" he said. In that moment, he looked like the happiest child in the world, and Snape smiled, a truly joyful smile, elated by Al's happiness.

The luminous creature raised its head and seemed to invite them to follow the glowing path of sparkles. Laughing, enchanted, Al and Snape plunged more and more deeply into the forest.

*************

In the castle, Ginny was distractedly listening to Lily's story and casting furtive glances towards the window every few seconds. Time was passing at an intolerably slow pace. The night was approaching rapidly, and the sky was heavy with clouds, threatening snow at any moment. Her anxiety and her resentment had been constantly growing in that last half an hour.

James' passionate defence of Professor Snape had been the last straw. What could a picture remember about children and their needs? Why should a portrait care about weather and darkness? After all, Snape was dead. Nothing could hurt him, while Al...

Ginny chilled. If something happened to Snape, would that affect Harry too? Her eyes met Minerva's questioning ones. With a forced smile, the younger woman turned her head to hide her concern while a resolution took shape in her mind. In a few moments, Neville would be back, and then she would ask him for his help. But no matter what anybody would say or do, with or without their consent, Ginny would go out and search for Al.

And for dear, good, damned, old Uncle Severus.

*************

The unicorn had left the luminous path to disappear amongst the trees, and Al was walking in silence, smiling and mulling over his thoughts. But that meditation obviously couldn't last for long.

"What about Centaurs?" the boy asked after a while, ready to be surprised again. "Where do they live?"

Snape raised his brows with an amused smile. It was too cold and too early for those fabulous beings, he explained and mentally thanked the weather. That way he would be spared the justification of his renewed existence to those fierce creatures. He glanced at his small companion, so evidently at ease in that land of wonders. Perhaps that was a good moment to bid goodbye. Then, once more, the boy preceded him.

"When spring comes, would you come here again with me?"

Snape took a deep breath. "I won't be here, Al. My time on earth ends today."

"Of course," the boy replied with that irritating patience children seem to display before adult obtuseness. "You must go back to your frame, but that doesn't change anything. I can bring you here in a smaller picture."

He brightened at the idea. "Today we had such a great time together! Thank you very much...," he hesitated, then added uncertainly, "uh, may I call you Uncle Severus?"

Snape felt his heart break into a thousand pieces. He smiled a wavering smile, and the boy hurried to say, "Only for today, of course. I'll call you Professor when we are in the classroom."

Overwhelmed, Snape murmured, "You can call me whatever you prefer, Al. I'm not going to be your teacher anymore."

"What do you mean?" the boy was instantly alarmed.

"I... I won't be coming back." How to explain? It was much worse than he had thought.

Snape cursed his clumsiness. "I'll become a portrait," he miserably ended.

"I know." The boy was relieved again. "Like you were before."

The wizard could drop the subject. It would be a wise choice. No worries, no pain. But that would be a betrayal.

"I have chosen to return as a simple portrait," he therefore explained, without explaining.

"What do you mean?" the boy said and frowned at that distinction.

Snape lowered his eyes. It was wrong. It would hurt the child. Nevertheless, he persisted in his intent. "My spirit will leave this earth. So, I won't be able to teach anymore."

The boy frowned, and his expression altered alarmingly. Snape stopped and put his hands on Al's shoulders. His eyes became firm and pleading at the same time.

"You must understand, Al," he prayed. "I am dead, and there is no peace in my actual existence. Everything calls me back, but I can't stay."

"No!" the boy exclaimed. "We're friends! You promised we would be friends!"

"I'm sorry," Snape said sadly. "But I will always be there as a portrait, and you can always come to talk to me and tell me what you are doing."

"Who will be inside that portrait? You or somebody else? If you are gone, who will be in your frame? A ghost?"

"No. No. It will always be me."

"So, what's changed? Why can't you teach anymore? Are you angry with us?"

"No, Al. No. But this isn't my place any longer, don't you understand? I am dead!"

The boy paled. "You are not dead as long as you can speak with me!"

"Al, you are a child, you can't understand...."

"No! I understand very well. You don't care about me. You have tricked me since the beginning. Why did you offer to tutor me if you didn't think you could go on? Why did you say we were friends? Friends stick together; they don't give up at the first sign of a problem!"

"Though understandable, this line of reasoning is selfish, Al."

"No! You are the selfish one! I... I..."

The boy backed away while tears trickled down his cheeks. The sound of thunder could be heard rumbling powerfully in the distance, and the enchanted lights vanished, as if somebody had violently blown them out. The wind whistled, and suddenly everything was dark and cold while snowflakes whirled all around them.

"Al!" Snape ordered, suddenly aware of the risks implicit in their situation. "We must go back! Come here!"

But the boy thinned his lips into a stubborn line and slowly shook his head. Then, abruptly, he turned his back on the wizard and disappeared into the middle of the trees.

"Al!" Snape shouted in frustration. "Al! Come back immediately! It's dangerous! AL!"

Only wind answered that desperate call. So, furious and worried, Snape rushed to follow the boy inside the forest.