Part III

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

Many thanks go to my fabulous beta, Karelia, and to those reading this story.

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Dedication: To DUJ. And to Severus.

Part III

On the fifth day, they added a new subject to their lessons. One of the vials the boy had prepared during Potions and that he had secretly kept for Snape's inspection fell to the ground, breaking in a thousand of pieces and spreading bubbling liquid on the floor. Albus Severus shuddered in horror.

"Well?" Severus asked darkly. "You are a wizard, Potter. Use your magic."

"But... I don't know what to do!" the boy exclaimed.

"Move your wand... like this! And now say "Reparo!" Snape instructed him.

Albus Severus did as he was commanded, but the myriad of little splinters and the liquid lay desolately still. It took him several tries to finally manage an acceptable spell. From that afternoon, Severus agreed to teach him some other useful enchantments.

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

At the end of the week, Albus Severus arrived with a prayer in his eyes. "Sir, may I ask you something before we start?"

Again? Snape feared the boy's questions, but he couldn't avoid them, so he nodded and waited in tension.

Albus Severus looked at the floor, then, mustering all his courage, asked in a rush, "Could James participate?"

Snape snorted. That was a point he simply didn't want to discuss. "I was adamant, Potter, that these lessons were reserved for you."

"But why not him?" the boy asked stubbornly.

Hiding his hands carefully under the frame, the wizard tightened his fists in repressed irritation. "Because you said that he was very talented. So, why should he need my lessons?"

Albus Severus gulped and lowered his head. "James is having a lot of problems in Potions lately... Quidditch training is very demanding and he needs help," he confessed.

Snape stiffened. "Well, not from me," he replied coldly; something cruel had unexpectedly awakened in his soul. Memories of another time and another place where another James was triumphantly grabbing the Snitch with a teasing smile.

"I haven't got time to tutor dunderheads who keep Quidditch in such high consideration," the wizard continued scornfully.

"James is no dunderhead!" the boy exclaimed.

"Manners, young man!" Snape replied immediately, and Albus Severus instinctively backed away under that unexpected glowering gaze. The wizard paused for an interminable moment, then asked with frightening calm, "But wait a minute, Potter. Should I presume that you told your brother about our agreement?"

Silence filled the corridor while the boy, defeated, once more lowered his head.

Snape's voice was icy. "I had specifically asked you not to mention it to him. Please explain yourself, Potter."

Albus Severus raised his head and Snape saw tears in his eyes.

"I'm sorry," the boy whispered. "I just wanted... I thought that... Well, thank you very much, Professor. I suppose my lessons end here."

He wiped off his tears angrily and turned to leave, clutching the notepad against his chest. Snape sighed and shook his head.

"Look, Potter, I am happy to teach you, but not your brother," he said in a definitive tone.

"But why not?!" Albus Severus cried in frustration. The dark wizard closed his eyes to avoid the child's. He had put himself into a trap. He couldn't explain. He couldn't take back his words. Every way he looked at it, the situation would hurt the boy. And the thought was intolerable.

"I can't explain. You must trust me. Now, if you want, we can begin the lesson," he finally declared.

The boy looked very sad. "Very well, then, Professor." He sighed. But he was depressed and the lesson ended earlier than usual. As soon as Albus Severus left, a worried voice called Snape.

"Severus? Please be careful with the boy."

"Mind yourself, Albus!" Snape reacted violently. "You made too many mistakes to give advice to me."

Dumbledore looked infinitely sad. "That's exactly why I warn you..." he murmured.

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

The incident took place the next day. The boy was trying a counterspell in the corridor – they had definitely also included Defence Against Dark Arts in their sessions – when an ash blond head peeped in and suddenly disappeared. Albus Severus slammed his notebook closed and exclaimed angrily, "I think it was Malfoy!"

"Malfoy?" Surprised, Snape repeated the name. Nineteen years had passed, yet he could still see the cold eyes of Lucius Malfoy and the arrogant smile of his son Draco. But, of course, it couldn't be them...

Unaware of his professor's memories, Albus Severus explained, darkening in resentment, "Scorpius Malfoy. He is a Slytherin and is always spying on me."

Feeling a bit uneasy but trying to reassure the boy, Snape said curtly, "Well, don't worry. It is not forbidden to speak to portraits."

But the quiet atmosphere had definitely been ruined, and the boy went away, leaving Snape with a strange presentiment churning in his heart.

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

The following day, Albus Severus arrived evidently upset. He stopped under the portrait and looked up with a mix of desperation and hope.

"Did you lie to me?" He asked in a new, trembling tone of voice.

"I beg your pardon, Potter?" Snape replied impassively, trying to maintain his composure while his heart thudded in anxiety.

The boy clenched his fists. "I've spoken with Scorpius Malfoy. He... he said that you betrayed my grandparents and that you sold them to the Dark Lord. Is that true?"

The dark wizard moved suddenly, as if he wanted to stop the boy, but Albus Severus continued inexorably, "Malfoy says that you hated my grandfather and this is why you don't want to teach James: because he has the same name!"

Again, Snape opened his mouth to answer, but no sound came out while pain diffused visibly upon his features.

Shaken by these unmistakable admissions of guilt, yet still wanting to believe in the man before him, the boy presented his last accusation. "You said my grandmother was your best friend, but Malfoy told me that she was killed because of you..."

His eyes widened in anguish while he repeated, "Is that true?"

Snape hesitated, then lowered his head. His heart was aching atrociously.

Albus Severus considered the man bitterly. His voice dropped in contempt. "Then you are a liar, Professor."

With sudden rage, the boy threw his notepad to the ground, his repressed sobs almost strangling him. "I don't care if you are the bravest man on the earth. You are a liar, and I don't want to talk to you anymore." He turned his back to the portrait and ran away.

Feeling his mouth horribly dry and his heart as hard as a stone, Snape staggered back. But then, unexpectedly, a new voice called imperiously, "Albus Severus! Come here!"

Dumbledore had risen in his frame. His tone and gesture were so authoritative that the boy stiffened in his run as if he had been hit. Then he slowed down his pace and, after a few steps, he finally stopped, looking back in challenge.

"Al!" Dumbledore called again, his voice kind again. "Please, do come to me..."

Snape buried his face in his hands while the boy reluctantly reached Dumbledore's portrait and crossed his arms, staring at the old wizard in a defiant silence.

"Al..." Dumbledore said, and his tone was gentle but firm. "You listened to Scorpius Malfoy. Now you must listen to Professor Snape. Why don't you give him a chance to explain himself?"

Albus Severus's expression was sombre. He turned to stare at Snape and the dark wizard returned his gaze. For the first time, the boy could see an immense vulnerability in the man who had seemed so powerful to him, and suddenly, he was scared.

"You are right..." Snape whispered. "I betrayed your grandparents."

The boy paled and went closer to Dumbledore, as if searching for support.

Snape's voice continued, turning hoarse in sorrow. "But I didn't do it on purpose, and when I discovered my error, I was devastated. Please believe me. I loved your grandmother. I still love her. I have never forgiven myself for my mistake."

"But you hated my grandfather," Albus Severus stated obstinately.

"I disliked James Potter as much as he disliked me. But I would have never harmed him, knowing that that would have harmed your grandmother too," Snape replied, opening his hands in a gesture of surrender.

"If this is true, why didn't you tell me when I asked?" the boy murmured, upset at the man's evident grief.

"Because..." Snape stopped, unable to find the words, his soul screaming silently in pain. How could he say to the boy: because I saw Lily in your eyes, and I didn't want to hurt you through my memories?

How could he admit: because you are the only one who trusted me without reservations, and I didn't want you to judge me?

And, above all, how could he confess: because I've failed so many times in my previous life, so I'd hoped that fate could give me a second chance?

Snape raised his head ferociously. He could not express his feelings, but somebody else could do it for him. As absurd as it might seem, he needed Harry Potter's help desperately... although he could only hope that Potter would be willing to help him. But there was no escape...

"Do you trust your father?" Snape suddenly asked. Surprised, the boy nodded slowly. A pleading note in his voice, the wizard urged, "Then ask him. Ask him, Albus Severus. Please!"

As soon as he finished, an older voice unexpectedly interposed.

"And when you have spoken with your dad, come to me, Al," Dumbledore added, his eyes filling with tears. "Because much of what happened was really my fault. And I too need to make amends."

Disconcerted, almost frightened at the reactions raised, the boy looked alternately from one man to the other, then backed away wordlessly and finally turned and ran away.

Silence fell once more in the corridor and Snape closed his eyes, waiting to hear Dumbledore's accusations. But no sound came from the other portrait, and eventually, Snape turned his back to it, hiding his face in his hands.