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Dame Lo Que Das
Prologue Severus Snape stood stock-still, his hands folded behind his back. His dress robes were neatly pressed and his long, black hair was tied back with a satin ribbon he had found in his mother's sewing bag. The day was grey and rainy, fitting for the burial of his mother. The ground was sliced open next to him, dark and forbidding. Her coffin was lowered slowly down into the earth. With it went Severus's hopes for his future. His father, Semotus Snape, was a cruel man who drank too much and had foolishly lost what little fortune their family had. Severus looked down when he felt a tug on his robes. Sophismata stared up at him, her grey eyes large and filled with tears. With a sniffle she held her arms up to him, an old teddy bear clutched in one hand. He bent and lifted her up, cradling her in his arms. She rested her small head on his shoulder and watched as their mother's coffin was covered with dirt. A sudden illness, their father had said without much conviction. Severus didn't believe him, but had no proof that their mother's death was anything but natural. Sophismata had watched her die and when Severus had been sent home from Hogwarts for the funeral, she had told him in a small, scared voice that Papa had been yelling at Mama the night before she died. Sophismata sniffled and clung to Severus tightly, "Mama. I want Mama, Sev'rus." "I know you do," Severus rubbed her back gently, his own back ramrod straight. He never looked away from the grave. "Mama's gone, Sophie. But I'm still here. I'll take care of you no matter what." When the coffin had been covered, a fresh pile of rich, black dirt hiding the evidence of their father's crime, Semotus walked over to his children, his face grim. "Put that child down, Severus. I will not have you molly-coddling her like her mother did." Severus kept his arms around her, meeting his father's eyes, "She is but a child. Allow me to comfort her. Our mother just died." "Grief is an unnecessary emotion," Semotus grabbed the intricate plait on Sophismata's head and yanked backwards so he could look her in the eye. "Quit sniveling, child! It is unbecoming and I will not tolerate it." Sophismata's eyes filled with fresh tears, but she held them in check, her lower lip trembling. Semotus let go of her hair and stalked away from his children, leaving Severus to take care of Sophismata. "It will be fine," Severus whispered, pressing a kiss to her temple. "I will not let him hurt you." Sophismata held her
tears and just nodded against Severus's neck. With a heavy heart, he
turned and followed his father back to their house.
Snape walked through too-quiet corridors searching for students out of bed. He prowled the corridors nightly - himself, Filch, and Potter - but the students were generally too frightened to leave the dorms after curfew. Too many years forced to live under the threat of the Dark Lord had left the children fearful and quiet. Snape almost missed their misbehaving. He arrived back in his chambers when the clock struck midnight. The wards were still up and the hooks for the robes were empty. Harry must still be in the corridors near Gryffindor Tower. Snape hung up his heavy robes and re-lit the fire. No matter how often he spelled the fire to stay lit, it went out as soon as he put up the wards. Part of him suspected that Harry was playing a trick on him, but he was too tired to even question him about something as trivial as the fire staying lit. The door opened again and Harry walked in. He hung up his robes as well. Snape could see the exhausted slump in his shoulders. They were all stretched so thin between their work with the Order and never ending teaching responsibilities. "Harry." Harry jumped, startled from whatever thoughts had been filling his mind. He looked back at the hooks and saw the second set of robes hanging there. With a tired chuckle, he pointed at Snape's robes. "Didn't even see them." "Apparently," Snape crossed his arms over his chest. "Are you going to bed now?" Harry rubbed the bridge of his nose, his glasses in his other hand, "Unfortunately no. I have to Floo to the headquarters tonight to brief Tonks about Monday's mission." "Very well. I shall have the Energizing potion ready for you in the morning." "And you?" Snape looked wistfully over at their bedroom and shook his head. "Dumbledore needs another batch of the Veritaserum." "Severus?" "Yes?" "Are we ever going to be able to sleep in bed at the same time again?" Snape met Harry's tired gaze, wishing he knew the answer. He held out his hand to Harry. The other man took it, allowing Snape to fold him in his arms. Snape pressed a kiss to the top of Harry's head and closed his eyes momentarily. "Soon."
Snape sat at the head table and forced himself to stay awake. Some mornings - like today - it took all his concentration to not fall asleep in his plate of eggs. It took even more to actually eat the eggs. Next to him, Harry ate in silence, his hand moving the fork mechanically between his mouth and the plate. None of the other teachers looked much better. The war was going to destroy all of them if it didn't end soon. "At least drink the coffee, Severus." Snape jumped in surprise, immediately scowling at Minerva for breaking his concentration. She pushed the coffee closer to him, the circles under her eyes betraying her own nightly activities. "Very well," Snape murmured and lifted the cup to his lips. He gained little energy from caffeine anymore, but the taste still comforted. He turned his head when he heard a soft snore from Harry's direction. They were again being treated to Harry's ability to eat and sleep at the same time. He nudged him lightly. "Wake up." "'m awake." Harry rubbed his eyes and let out a jaw-cracking yawn. A small brown owl landed next to Albus, holding its leg out expectantly. Through blurred eyes, Snape watched him take the parchment and tip the owl. Albus read silently and then looked up, meeting Snape's eyes. Snape froze, the mug resting against his lips. Albus just nodded slowly before rising from the table and walking out of the hall. Harry watched him go before looking at Snape. "Severus?" "Excuse me," Snape muttered and rose as well, following Albus out of the room. The headmaster was sitting at his desk by the time Snape arrived, the letter resting in front of him. "Is that an answer?" "Sit, Severus," Albus motioned at the chair. "Please." Snape sat down and folded his hands in his lap, "I presume that the answer is not what we want to hear." "No, it's not," Albus handed him the letter. "I'm sorry, Severus." Snape read the letter quickly. To Whom It May Concern: We regret to inform you that the execution of the known Death Eater Sophismata London will carry on as so deemed by the Tribunal. Her execution will take place on the fifth of May and may be witnessed by her family and the families of her victims. Sincerely, Gramblus Garters, Prisonmaster of Azkaban Underneath the formal letter, Gramblus had scrawled in his shaky hand a note to Albus that Snape took the liberty of reading as well. A, Tell Severus he is welcome to visit Sophismata again before the execution. The usual rules apply for his visit - you must come with him and he must be thoroughly checked for any potions, magical objects, or weapons. I believe that it would help both of them to have this final visit. G. "Help me?" Snape snorted as he slapped the letter back down on Albus's desk. "I have to inform my only sister - my only family - that she is to be put to death because I was unable to save her life as I saved mine." "Sophismata made her own choices. This is not a case of fratricide, Severus. This is a woman who joined Voldemort and never gave up her allegiance to him." Snape looked at Albus with a cold stare, "I might as well be killing her myself. She only joined because I did." "We tried our best," Albus sat back in his chair, his voice heavy with sadness. "We've been fighting to stay this execution for five years now. If she had denied her allegiance to Voldemort, we would have had more of a chance." "I know," Snape gritted his teeth, a headache forming behind his eyes. "When can we make the time to go to Azkaban?" "May 5th is in 12 days. I suggest we go as soon as we can." "Tomorrow," Snape straightened up and brushed his hair out of his eyes. "I would like to go tomorrow." "I will inform
Gramblus immediately."
Snape sat in a small, magic-dampened room drumming his fingers against the table as he waited for the Azkaban guards to bring Sophismata to see him. Gramblus had taken Albus to his office to arrange for the transfer of Sophismata's body to the Snape Family plot in Manchester. Snape was unable to take care of that situation and Albus knew so. He was grateful to him for stepping forward and handling the necessary evils of an execution. The door opened slowly and two guards led Sophismata into the room, their wands pointed at the shackled woman. Her head was bowed, hidden by a sheaf of knotted black hair. The clothes he had brought her were ripped and hanging off her skeletal frame. The red scratches that ran down her arms made him stiffen. He hated the way she was treated in the prison. "No magic," one of the guards said to Snape. "No potions. No spells. Spelled items must be checked on the way out of the prison." "I am here every month," Snape said dryly. "I know the rules." The other guard, a burly wizard with a squashed nose, muttered under his breath as he unlocked Sophismata's shackles about freed Death Eaters. The guard looked down at Snape with contempt before they left the room, the heavy door slamming shut behind them. "Sophie." Sophismata lifted her head, her eyes flickering over his face before she sat down in the chair heavily. Exhaustion bloomed across her skin and she slid a hand over the surface of the table towards his own, but stopped before she actually touched him. Snape itched to take her hand. "You are here to tell me that I am going to die." Snape's throat was dry and he rose slowly, gliding over to her side. She bowed her head, exposing the pale nape of her neck. He rested his hand there, his fingers touching the knotted strands on hair. "You are to be executed for your crimes in 11 days." Sophismata made no sound of surprise or fear. Snape was not surprised; she had always been an exceptionally strong person - had to be with their father. She reached up and removed his hand from her neck, clutching it with her claw like fingers. "Would you fix my hair, Severus?" Snape reached into his robes and pulled out a silver hairbrush. It had been their mother's, one of the few items they still had to remember her by, and her initials were engraved on the back. "Would you fix my hair, Severus?" Snape looked up from a wizard comic he was reading and saw Sophismata holding their mother's hairbrush. Her black hair was flowing down her back, looking perfectly fixed already. Their house-elf, Noni, must have brushed it endlessly earlier. The little girl was looking at him imploringly, her pale grey eyes wide. Snape could never resist pleasing his little sister so he set aside the comic book in favour of doing her hair. "Sit in front of me," Snape took the hair brush from her and crossed his legs. He positioned Sophismata on the bed in front of him, touching her soft hair. "What do you want done?" "Plaits," she said firmly. "Like Mama used to do." "Mine will not be as perfect as Mama's were," Snape said like he did every time she asked him to plait her hair. "I am not allowed to do magic away from Hogwarts." "I like how you do my hair," Sophismata tilted her head back, peering at him upside-down. She giggled happily and crossed her eyes, sticking her tongue out at him at the same time. Snape smiled and tweaked her nose, "You're so silly, Sophie." Sophismata giggled again and flopped back into his lap. Snape closed his arms around the little girl and bent over to trap her with his body. Long fingers tickled her sides and laughter - both of theirs - filled the normally quiet home. Snape untangled her hair gently, making the black hair fall down her back like he remembered it. He trailed his fingers through the now-clean hair. The brush was spelled to wash the hair as he brushed it. They let him bring the brush in despite its magical qualities. "What do you want done?" Sophismata tilted her head back to look up at him, her pale grey eyes searching his own tired face. Looking at the deep lines and dark hollows in her face made him feel so old. She was ten years younger than him and she looked so old. He could only imagine how old he looked these days. "Plaits," her voice was rough, no longer soft and musical like when she was younger. "Like Mama used to do." "I cannot use magic in this room," Snape said, touching her face lightly. "They will not be as perfect as they used to be." "I like your plaits." Snape leaned down and pressed his lips to her own dry, cracked ones. His hair hid both of their faces, shielding them from the world. She lifted a skeletal hand and touched his cheek, returning the familiar kiss. "If you would just deny your loyalty to him," Snape whispered against her lips. "You could live if you did that." Sophismata pressed his cheek and pushed him away, "I will not lie about my loyalty to our Lord." "He is not my Lord," Snape said to her, leaning against the edge of the table. "He has not been my Lord for quite some time." "Yes, I know," her voice took on a hard edge. "Severus the Spy. I had to work so much harder to be trusted because of you. Have you any idea how hard it was to be Severus Snape's sister?" "I wish they had dismissed you," Snape matched her tone, his eyes meeting her own. "I doubt we would be here now if they had." "I would rather die for my Lord than turn into you." Snape dropped his head, refusing to look at her. She knew how to hurt him better than anyone, even Harry. No matter how many times she said that - at least once a month for the last five years - it still hurt immensely. "Severus," Sophismata broke the heavy silence. She placed a hand on his thigh. "Must we fight about this again?" Snape covered her hand with his own, "No. Of course not." He reached into his robes and pulled out a package. "I brought you clean clothing and food." "Thank you," Sophismata murmured, taking the package from him. The food was just bread, meat, cheese, and some vegetables. The dress was plain black, but clean. She pressed her face to it and breathed in the soft rose scent. "Mama's perfume. You always put a little on the clothes for me." "Mama was one of the good parts of your childhood. I wish you to remember the good," Snape pulled her long hair back with a leather tie. "I will plait your hair after you have been cleaned and changed." Sophismata allowed him to pull her to her feet and gently undress her. She stood in front of him, naked, filthy, and proud. Snape touched her protruding ribs and hipbones before taking the spelled cloth from the package. He ran it slowly over her face, cleaning off the visible dirt. The bath she received from him once a month was her only chance to be cleaned. The prisoners were not allowed to bathe for fear they would drown themselves or magically control the water. Snape always bathed her fully and she never flinched when her brother's fingers lifted her breasts or parted her legs to clean away the grime and sweat. Snape prowled through the cramped corridors of their home, calling out Sophismata's name in a sing-song voice. Their father was out and he had told Noni that he would take care of his sister, allowing Noni a chance to clean the downstairs before his father returned. Sophismata, on the other hand, was not interested in the idea of a bath. Their mother had bathed her every night before she died and since that event the year before, Sophismata had always protested the bath. Snape found her hiding under a dresser in her room, the little giggles she couldn't suppress giving away her hiding spot to him. With a low growl, Snape pulled her out from under the dresser and tickled her sides. She laughed happily and let him pick her up, her arms wrapping around his neck. "Okay, you little monkey," Snape said, slapping her bottom lightly. "It's bath time whether you like it or not." The five year-old squirmed in his arms and tried to get away. "No bath! I'm not dirty, Severus." Snape pressed his nose to her neck and snuffled loudly, causing her to laugh again, "You smell stinky. And Noni told me that you were playing in the garden all afternoon." "Noni lies." "Oh really?" Snape carried her towards the bathroom where the tub was already filled with warm water. "I see no reason for Noni to lie to me." Sophismata continued to squirm in his arms, more so when she saw the tub of water. He sat down on the bidet and managed to get her undressed despite the squirming. She really was filthy, dirt smeared on her cheek and on her legs. "No!" Sophismata punched at his chest with her balled up fists. "Please, Severus, I don't need a bath." "Sophie," Snape said calmly. "If you bathe, I will let you sit with me in the lab for the evening." She stopped hitting him, cocking her head to look at him. "Really?" Snape kissed her forehead, "Really. Now, will you let me give you a bath?" Sophismata furrowed her brow, thinking about this long and hard. She looked at the tub and then back at him. Finally, she nodded and hopped off his lap and stepped into the tub. She sat down with a splash, getting him and the floor all wet. "Bathe me." Sophismata smiled up at him, her arms raised above her head, exposing her thin torso. Snape knelt beside the tub and picked up the shampoo first. "Hair first. Close your eyes." She squeezed her eyes shut and let him wash her hair, his thin fingers scrubbing away any dirt he could find. "Okay, deep breath." He watched her chest expand and her cheeks puff out before he pushed her backwards, carefully dunking her head under the water to wash out the shampoo. Sophismata laughed when she was above the water again, peering at Snape through one eye. "All clean?" "Not yet," Snape said and reached for the washcloth. "Stand up. Time to scrub the rest of you." Sophismata scrambled to her feet, slipping on the bottom of the tub. Snape steadied her and let her rest her hand on the top of his head to keep her balance. He began to scrub her all over, telling her stories about their mother while he cleaned her off. The door flew open and Snape jumped, turning to see what was going on. Semotus was standing in the doorway with Noni's wrist clasped in his hand. He looked absolutely furious. "Stand up, boy!" Snape stood up, shielding Sophismata with his body. She clung to his leg, getting his trousers wet in the process. Noni whimpered in his father's grasp, her large eyes wet and gleaming. "How many times have I told you not to dote on that child?" "I was just bathing her, sir." Snape didn't flinch as Semotus's open palm connected with his cheek. Sophismata whimpered and clung to Snape's leg harder. His father let go of Noni's arm and pushed her towards the tub. "Noni will bathe the child. I do not want you treating her like she matters, boy." Snape bent over and untangled Sophismata's arms from his leg. He squeezed her hand gently and stepped aside, allowing Noni to finish the bath. Semotus pointed at the door and Snape walked out, not looking back at his sister. "Stop crying, child." With that, Semotus brushed past Snape and walked away. The door to his den slammed shut a moment later and Snape turned back to the bathroom. Sophismata was crying softly in the tub and Noni was trying to finish bathing her. "I will finish, Noni." "Master Semotus wishes Noni to bathe her," Noni chattered, holding onto the wash cloth tightly. "Master Severus should not disobey his father." "She is crying," Snape said as he sat down on the edge of the tub and was immediately holding onto a wet and crying Sophismata. "Let me finish and I will make sure to stay out of my father's way, Noni." "Noni will stay in the room," Noni stepped back. "Master Semotus will beat Noni again if he finds Noni missing." "Very well," Snape brushed his hand over Sophismata's wet hair. "Don't cry, baby. He's not going to hurt you. I won't let him." Sophismata whimpered in his arms, clinging to him. Snape swore silently to whomever was listening that he would pay his father back for treating Sophismata so badly. It wasn't her fault that she was born. "How is your young saviour?" "Harry is tired," Snape ran the cloth down one long leg and back again. "I wish you'd had the chance to meet him. I think you would have liked him." "Never," Sophismata peered down at her brother who was kneeling in front of her. "He is my Lord's enemy." "You speak to me," Snape said softly. "And I am your enemy." "You are also my brother," she rested her hand on the top of his head. "You raised me." "What a job I did too," Snape murmured, his head resting against her now-clean thigh. "I left you for months on end with only a house-elf to keep you company while I did horrible things in the service of Voldemort. And then while you were at Hogwarts I forced you to change your name and never associate with me outside of class for fear that people would find out that I was your brother." "You sent me letters every day." Snape rose to his feet and gathered her in his arms, "I should have done more." "I forgive you," her hand was on the back of his head now, holding him to her. "You were too young when Papa died to be strapped with a little girl. You had to serve our Lord. Or at least appear that you were after you chose to betray him and work for his enemy." "My mistake," Snape pulled back to look her in the eyes, "Was not telling you that I was a spy for Dumbledore. Perhaps you would not have felt compelled to follow in my footsteps." "I made my own choices just as you did." Snape moved away from her and picked up the black dress. She raised her arms and he pulled it over her head, buttoning up the blouse over her small breasts. He smoothed down the skirt and ran his hands down her arms to button the wrists. "Very pretty." Sophismata smiled slightly and sat back down in the chair. He stepped behind her and began to brush her hair again. She ate in silence as he plaited her hair into nine small plaits. He then plaited them together in groups of three, finally plaiting the last three plaits into one thick plait. "I am finished." "Sit next to me, Severus," Sophismata plucked at the bread with delicate fingers, popping bits into her mouth. "I need to tell you something." "I do not want to hear you say goodbye." "Sit." Snape sat next to her, his knee pressing against her own. She leaned her head against his shoulder and tangled her fingers with his own. "Do you remember when I passed my NEWTS?" Snape pulled her closer, smelling the rose scent of their mother's perfume on her. "Of course. I was so proud of you." Sophismata burst into the dungeon chambers, her long hair in disarray. She held a parchment in her hand, waving it around and chanting his name. Snape looked up from the article he was reading and scowled. "You are not to be down here." "Sod off," she said happily, sitting down on his lap and handing him the parchment. "Look! I passed all of my NEWTS." Snape took the parchment and read it over. His heart swelled with pride and he wrapped his free hand around Sophismata's waist tightly. She laughed and rested her head on his shoulder. "Good thing I passed Potions. You might have disowned me if I hadn't." "Never," Snape set down the parchment and wrapped his other arm around her. "You did very well. Mama would have been proud." "And Papa?" Snape stiffened. "His opinion would not have mattered. He had not even planned to send you to Hogwarts." "But you sent me," Sophismata's grey eyes sparkled and she snuggled back into his arms. "You gave up everything to send me here." "A teacher's salary is quite adequate to pay for schooling," Snape assured her. "My inheritance, as paltry as it is, is more than adequate to keep me comfortable." "Thank you," Sophismata whispered, turning in his arms and kissing him. Her arms wrapped around his neck and he dropped his hands to the small of her back. "Thank you for everything, Severus." Sophismata rested against him, her small breasts pressed against his chest. Snape held her close and closed his eyes. She smelled like soft rose perfume, the same perfume their mother had worn. He knew that he could never say no to her, no matter what she wanted. "I still think fondly of that night," Sophismata's voice was barely a whisper. He had to strain to hear her words. "You loved me so." "I still do." "Severus," her voice dropped even more. "Will you be there when they execute me?" "I will come before and do your hair." Sophismata lifted her head and met his eyes, "Thank you. I do not want to die looking like they have won." "Albus will watch the execution in my place," Snape traced his fingers along her brow. "I cannot watch you die." "Will you bring me Mama's blue dress? The one with the lace on the cuffs?" Snape nodded, "Of course. She left that dress for you." The door swung open again and the two guards returned, "Time's up. She must go back now." They parted without a word. Sophismata rose to her feet, holding out her wrists in front of her body. The guard with the squashed nose shackled her wrists together again. Snape watched as she was lead away from him again. With a heavy heart, he began to pack up the small package again. The hairbrush and the cloth went back in along with the remainder of the food. He stood up and waited until he was let out of the room by yet another guard that looked at him angrily. Snape wondered if
they would still consider him a traitor if they knew how he had spent the
last few years, fighting for the Light and his sister's life. He had lost
one of his battles. He could only hope that the second battle would not
end so badly.
"Would you like me there?" Snape looked up from the potion he was making, surprised by the sudden intrusion by Harry. The younger man was standing in the doorway, his arms over his chest and dark circles under his eyes. "Pardon me?" "When they execute her," Harry walked into the room. "Would you like me there?" "I see that Albus yet again cannot be trusted with private information," Snape went back to stirring the potion. "What did he tell you?" "Well, about three years ago, I learned that the Death Eater Sophismata London was actually Sophismata Snape - your sister." "Yes, I am aware that she is my sister." "You apprehended your own sister, Severus." Snape glared at him, "What should I have done? Let her go? She is a Death Eater and unabashedly loyal to Voldemort." "You could have told me," Harry's voice was gentle, unassuming. It grated on Snape's nerves. "You have been filing motion after motion to keep her from being executed for her crimes." "She would have suffered more spending her life in Azkaban," Snape shut off the heat and turned to face Harry. "And I would have been able to keep her in my life that way." Harry crossed his arms over his chest, mimicking Snape's stance, "You have not answered my question." "I am not watching the execution." "Severus," Harry sighed and started to walk towards their quarters. "Join me for a cup of tea." "You even sound like Albus." Snape grumbled. "I find that I sound more like you," Harry smiled at him. "I suppose it's from spending years around you." "I do not want tea and I do not want to talk about Sophismata." "I think the last time I really listened to what you wanted was sometime in the late '90s." "Bloody hell," Snape muttered as he sat down in his armchair heavily. "I want mint tea if you insist on making tea." "We have no mint tea. I'm afraid you'll have to make do with lemon." "I don't like lemon tea," Snape shifted in the armchair to glare at Harry. "You're doing this on purpose, Potter." "Now, now," Harry sat down on the small coffee table in front of Snape's armchair. "You know I annoy with love." "I could do without that kind of love." Harry leaned forward, resting his hands on Snape's thighs, "You couldn't, Severus. Now, may we please talk about your sister?" Snape pushed Harry's hands away, "Since you asked so nicely - no." "For Merlin's sake! I'm attempting to be kind and thoughtful here," Harry ran a hand through his wild hair. "I understand that you don't usually like that sort of shite, but I think this is a slightly different situation." "Fine!" Snape shouted at him. "What do you want to know? Should I tell you about the way my father treated her as she was worthless? Or how he beat me for trying to take care of her? Or maybe about the way when I was only 18, I got custody of her when he died? Oh, no wait, I know. How about the one where I had to turn her over to Malfoy to be Draco's bloody nanny even though she was one of the most brilliant Potions students I ever taught? What bedtime story about my sister would you like hear? I've got a lovely one about the day she told me she joined the Death Eaters. You were in the middle of your fifth year at the time." Harry sat in silence, perched on the coffee table. His brow was furrowed and he never broke his gaze with Snape. The unremitting glare made Snape fidget as it always did. "How old was she when your father died?" "She was 8," Snape's voice was cold. "She was 4 when my mother died." "Where did she live?" "What is the point of these bloody questions? It was almost twenty-five years ago." Harry got up and walked over to the chair. He pushed Snape back and climbed up, straddling his lap. He rested his hands on Snape's shoulders, his eyes burning as he frowned. "Have you ever spoken to anyone about your sister?" Snape reached up and pried Harry's hands away from his shoulders. Harry knew he hated to be held down like this, "Albus. I had to tell him when she was accepted to Hogwarts." "Was that when she became Sophismata London?" asked Harry gently. He shifted in the chair and squeezed next to Snape. "It was for her own safety," Snape glared at him. "I really do not want to talk about this." "Perhaps I should go ask Draco about her then," Harry looked at him coolly. "I am sure I can get Gramblus to allow me access to him in Azkaban." "Do what you wish. I have my reasons for staying silent." Harry sighed and cupped Snape's sharp jaw, "Very well. How much work do you have tonight?" "Just papers to grade," Snape mimicked Harry's motions. "You?" "Sixth year essays," Harry smiled at him. "Are we going to get to sleep in bed together tonight?" Snape leaned forward and pressed a gentle kiss to Harry's dry lips, "I do believe we shall." "Excellent," Harry kissed him again before drawing back. "Get to work, Severus. I plan on taking advantage of a quiet night and shagging you senseless." Snape snorted and slipped out of the chair, "You haven't got the energy." "We'll see about that," Harry's eyes twinkled. He smacked Snape's arse and got up. "I'll be in my office if you need me." Snape watched him
go, the door shutting before he let his face fall. He sat back down in his
armchair, his head propped up by his hand. The last thing he wanted to do
was open up the past and bare his wounds to Harry.
"That match was quite the knuckleduster, Severus," Flitwick said with admiration in his voice. "I had no idea those Slytherins had it in them to come back after such a large deficit." "My Slytherins are fighters," Snape said coolly. He crossed his legs, his ankle resting on his knee. Flitwick hopped onto the couch next to him. "What do you want, Filius?" Flitwick pulled out a copy of the Daily Prophet, spreading it across his lap, "Nothing really, Severus. You just happen to be sitting on the couch which usually holds two people." "Very well." Snape went back to reading over the Advanced Potions essays. Next to him, Flitwick hummed as he read the paper. He gritted his teeth and attempted to not rip out his jugular. "There is another execution tomorrow," Flitwick clicked his tongue and shook his head. "Such a travesty of justice. It is so much more of a torture if they are kept alive. What do you think, Severus?" "I have no opinion on the matter." "Sure you do," Flitwick pushed him. "As an ex-Death Eater you probably have stronger opinions on the matter than the rest of us." "I do not wish to talk about politics, Filius," Snape was starting to regret doing his grading in the staff room. He should have just put a silencing charm around his desk and worked in his chambers. Harry would have slept through it. "I am busy." Flitwick went back to reading and humming. Snape didn't pay attention to him until Flitwick let out a small gasp of surprise. "What is it now?" Snape glared at him. "Sophismata London," Flitwick pointed at the picture. Snape recognized it from when Sophismata was under the employment of Lucius Malfoy. "She was a brilliant student. Would have been here about the time you started teaching. Do you remember her?" "Yes," Snape said dismissively. "We have both taught many Death Eater, Filius." "I remember when she was caught," Flitwick looked at him from above the rims of his glasses, "You caught her, didn't you?" "Must we have this conversation?" Flitwick ignored Snape's increased hostility and kept talking, "Miss London is charged with the murder of five Aurors and thirteen Muggles. She is also believed to be the Death Eater behind one of the most horrifying potions of the 20th century: Abolesco. What does Abolesco do again, Severus?" "It liquefies internal organs," Snape's voice shook and his hands were balled into fists. "This is a very unpleasant conversation to be having right now. Sod off, Filius." "Are you going to the execution?" Snape threw down his quill and turned to Flitwick, his expression furious, "I have asked you repeatedly to end this infuriating conversation and yet you insist on continuing your nattering about one more bloody execution of a Death Eater. Yes, I caught her and yes, I remember teaching her. No, I am not going to the execution and no, I do not have a bloody opinion on them executing Death Eaters!" Flitwick shrank back slightly, looking up at Snape with wide eyes, "Very well, Severus. I shall take my leave of you." Snape watched as Flitwick hopped off the couch and hurried to the other side of the staff room. He straightened his shoulders and picked up his quill. His hand shook as he tried to write his commentary on a particularly competent essay about the lachrymose effects of various potions. He gave up and packed his work away. With a swirl of his robes, he stalked out of the staff room and headed back to his chambers. Snape couldn't deal with the rest of the staff staring at him like he was a caged animal. There was only one
caged animal in the Snape family and she was going to be put to death in
the morning.
Snape rose early, having spent the entire night awake next to Harry. The other man hadn't slept either, just let Snape rest his head on his chest and not say a word. The hours passed slowly for both of them and only when the faint strains of the early morning spilled through the bars on the windows did they get up. Snape's hands shook as he tried to fasten the buttons on his robes. Without a word, Harry brushed his hands aside and buttoned him up. Harry left his hands on Snape's waist and looked at him for a long time. They parted without words and Snape went about packing up the items he needed for his final visit with Sophismata. Mama's blue dress - perfectly pressed and cared for by Noni for the past 32 years - was packed last. Noni had cried for hours when he had asked her for the dress. There was no way to really comfort a house-elf, especially one who had her heart set on getting her Master and Mistress back. "Albus said he would meet us at the front gate," Harry said quietly, finally breaking the silence on the room. "Are you ready to go, Severus?" "No," Snape raised his head and took a deep breath. "But I have little choice in the matter. We only have so much time before they perform the curse." Harry left his hand on the small of Snape's back as they walked through the long and winding corridors to the front entrance. The Bloody Baron had passed them along the way, his expression sad. One of his children was being killed. The ghost always knew when a Slytherin was in danger. Albus had a watch out and he was peering at it intently. He shut it with a snap when he saw Snape and Harry appear. He smiled at both of them and pressed a firm hand to Snape's shoulder. "Come along, my boy. We must hurry," he looked over at Harry. "I am happy to see that you came along." "I never agreed to let him join me," Snape said stiffly. "He is a stubborn brat who refused to let me be today." "You would do the same for me." Snape fell quiet and just nodded quickly. Albus looked at his watch again and pushed open the door. Outside it was sunny and entirely too nice to be a day of death. The three of them walked steadily to the front gate that marked the end of the wards. From there they could apparate to Azkaban. "Severus," Albus said, falling into step next to him. "I have taken care of all the arrangements for the burial. The name on the death certificate will be Sophismata London in an effort to keep your name out of the papers. We do not need attention turned on you right now." "I am still able to bury her in the Snape plot, correct?" All Snape wanted was to make sure that she was buried next to their mother. "Of course," Albus said as he unlocked the front gates. "Gramblus has agreed to produce a second body of a female inmate to pose as Sophismata for the burial in the Azkaban graveyard." Harry's steps faltered at the calm discussion of duping the public about the identity of a dead Death Eater. He had no idea what had really gone on in the past five years since Sophismata had been captured. From where he was standing, he saw no reason for the Prisonmaster of Azkaban to be covering up the identity of a Death Eater to protect another former Death Eater. Albus straightened his hat and smiled at them both, "I shall see you at Azkaban." And with that he disapparated. Harry reached up and rested his hands on Snape's face, looking him in the eye, "You are doing the right thing, Severus. You're not letting her die alone." "We have to go," Snape said gruffly. He pushed Harry's hands away and disapparated without another word. Harry followed him a moment later, appearing next to Snape and Albus on the steps of Azkaban. "Good, good," Albus said quickly. He started to walk up the steps and then stopped. "You have been in Azkaban before haven't you, Harry?" "Yes," Harry said quietly. "I know the rules." "They have special rules for Severus. Do not get upset with the way they treat him." Snape refused to meet Harry's eyes as they walked up the steps to the heavy wooden doors of Azkaban. The stone façade on the prison shone in the early morning light. Albus tapped on the door with his wand and stepped back as the doors swung open. "Ah, Albus," Gramblus met them at the door. He pumped Albus's hand firmly. "Good of you to come so early." "Severus wishes to spend some time with Sophismata," Albus shook his hand back. "I am sure that you will be arranging that for him." Gramblus looked over at Snape quickly and then back at Albus, "Perhaps I can get him a few minutes with her." "Long enough for him to dress her and do her hair. You do know their visiting pattern since they are watched each month." "Yes, yes," Gramblus waved a hand. "Come along. Severus, the guards are waiting for you." Harry stepped forward, pressing his hand to Snape's back again, "May I go with Severus?" "I'm afraid not, Mr. Potter," Gramblus said. "Severus has to go through special screenings. You will meet up with him again later." "Go, Harry," Snape said quietly. "Albus told you that this was going to happen." Harry met his eyes for a moment before backing down. He nodded and followed Albus and Gramblus to another entrance. Snape turned to the two guards waiting for him. They led him down the hall to a small room. "Aloysius. Larchmont." Snape nodded politely to both. He began to empty his pockets on the table in front of him. They watched him with an unblinking gaze. "This bag contains the usual items along with a blue dress." Aloysius took the bag from Snape and opened it. He emptied the items and performed magical scans on the brush, the cloth, the perfume, and the dress. He re-packed the bag and handed it back to him. "Take off your robes, Professor Snape." Larchmont step forward, his wand raised. Snape undressed quietly, folding his clothing and setting them on the table as well. He stood in front of them, his arms crossed in front of his body. He kept his chin raised and his gaze steady. Larchmont scanned Snape's body, checking for any hidden curses, spells, or magical items. Aloysius continued to look through the items Snape had with him, stopping on a picture. "What is this?" "It is a picture," Snape said dryly. "I am aware that your intelligence is sub-normal but even you should be able to recognize a photograph." "You've never brought photographs in before," Aloysius ignored Snape's barb. The three of them had been doing this for five years now. They knew how to annoy each other. "What is your reasoning for bringing it in now?" "It is a picture of our mother," Snape reached for the photograph but Aloysius held it out of reach. "I thought Sophismata would like to see a picture of her once more before she died." Aloysius eyed the photograph and then Snape. He set it back on the table. "You can get dressed now. The bag and the picture are allowed to go in. We will keep your wand here." Snape dressed again and picked up the items he was allowed to take with him. He waited until Larchmont and Aloysius had spelled his wand and various other items. The two of them led him down the long, stone hall to the usual room he met Sophismata in. Sophismata was already there, sitting at the table with a plate of food in front of her. She was eating slowly, her expression dull. The door slammed shut behind Snape and she finally looked up at him. "Severus." "Sophie." A moment later she was in his arms, clinging to him tightly. She dug her blunt fingernails into his back and they stayed that way for a few minutes. Snape ran his hand down her back, resting it on the curve of her arse. Sophismata let out a shuddery sigh and pulled back, "They let me have breakfast. I get a last meal before they kill me." "What have they given you?" Snape peered at the plate of eggs and kippers. "Not even any coffee?" "No," Sophismata smiled at him briefly. "Have you brought Mama's dress?" "Oh yes," Snape took the bag out of his robes and opened it up. She quietly took off the black dress he had brought her less than two weeks before. The plaits were trailing down her back in a mass of tangles, but the dress was less ragged than usual. Snape took the spelled cloth out of the bag and began to wash her. Snape went slowly this time; the last time. Her pale skin glowed in the low light and he pressed a kiss to her stomach. She rested a hand on the back of his head and closed her eyes. "Severus," Sophismata said gently, kneeling next to him. She pressed a hand to his cheek and kissed him slowly. He rested a hand on the back of her neck, closing his eyes. She pulled back and rested their foreheads together. "I love you." "Sophie," Snape clutched at her, his fingernails digging into her pale skin this time. "Please don't leave me. I cannot ... please, repent for your sins. Tell them that you are no longer loyal to him. They will let you live if you turn away from the Dark. For me. For Mama..." Sophismata stopped him with a finger on his lips. Her expression was serene and she shook her head, "Quiet, Severus. Begging does not suit you." "I have taken care of you your entire life," Snape said fiercely. "This is how you repay me? By letting them kill you?" "Let me go." Snape bowed his head and let out a quiet sob. She gathered him in her arms again and rocked him, still naked as the day she was born, on the ground of the small room they had spent the last five years trying to hold each other up. "Do not say goodbye," Snape lifted his head finally and met her eyes. "I cannot hear you say goodbye." Sophismata smiled at him gently and wiped away the few tears that actually escaped from his eyes, "I would never say goodbye to you." "Good," Snape touched her lips with one slim finger. He stood up slowly and helped her to her feet again. He took out the blue dress and held it up to her. "Noni took good care of it since Mama died." "It's as beautiful as I remember," Sophismata trailed her fingers along the lace cuff. "She would take it out and show it to me. Someday Sophie, this dress will be yours. When you marry, it will go with you and you will pass it down to your daughter," she looked at Snape. "I'm sure she never thought I would be executed in her dress." Snape pulled the dress over Sophismata's head, smoothing it down her prison-starved frame. The bodice was low cut and he fixed her cleavage with a gentle hand. When she was dressed, she sat again and Snape plaited her hair as delicately and intricately as ever. "You're ready," Snape said quietly, sitting on the edge of the table. He reached into his robes and took out the picture Aloysius had examined earlier. "I brought you this." Sophismata took the photograph and smiled. Severus poked his head out from the edge of the photo, Sophismata in his arms. With a smile, he hurried over to his mother and the three of them looked up at Sophismata. She traced her mother's face with one finger before looking back up at her brother. "Thank you." The door opened up and the guard with the squashed nose stepped inside. "It's time." Snape stood up along with Sophismata. He folded her fingers around the photograph and pressed a kiss to her forehead before taking her face in his hands. He trailed his lips over her nose and down to her lips, kissing her lightly. "I love you." Sophismata touched his side gently and turned away. The guard led her out of the room and the door shut again. Snape turned and began to pack away the brush and the cloth. The door opened and Larchmont stepped in. "Come along, Professor Snape." Snape allowed himself to be led out of the room. Larchmont was speaking to him, something about a different room. He wasn't listening to him though. "Severus." Snape looked over at Harry, frowning when he saw no sign of Albus, "Where is your robe?" Harry smiled sheepishly, "Too many charms and spells on it. They have it spelled in another room." "Well," Snape walked over to him. "At least you are wearing clean trousers." "Professor Snape. Professor Potter," Larchmont interrupted them. "The room over here has been arranged for the two of you. The Prisonmaster has informed us that you are unwilling to watch the execution." "Correct," Snape glared at him though it carried very little weight. The red-rimmed eyes and grey skin took away any of the fear he normally could strike in others. "Come along, Potter." Snape sat down on the long bench against the back wall of the small room. It must be another visiting room, complete with a small table and two chairs. There had never been a bench in the room where he visited Sophismata though. The door shut and Harry walked over to join him. "Do you need anything?" asked Harry softly, reaching for Snape's hand. Snape shook his head and leaned back against the wall. The cool stone leeched the heat from his skin, reminding him of home. He hated Azkaban, but at the same time it had so many of the characteristics that made him love the dungeons. "Albus is in there?" Harry nodded, looking at the doorway, "He said that he would come get us afterwards." "Why are you not in there?" Harry looked at him seriously, "I'm where I need to be." Snape exhaled slowly and leaned against the wall again. He closed his eyes in an attempt to calm himself down. All he saw when he closed his eyes was his wand pointed at Sophismata in her Death Eaters mask. Her hair had escaped from the hood and there was a trickle of blood trailing down her neck. His eyes flew open again and he saw the grey walls and the heavy door of the room. Harry pressed his hand to Snape's thigh, reassuring him that he was there. Snape looked down at his hand and then back up at Harry. He slid his hand on top of Harry's and waited. "She was a lovely girl," Snape whispered, ending the silence between them. "I loved her." "You still can," Harry whispered back, pressing a kiss to Snape's temple. "I am sure she still loves you." "Harry," Snape's voice broke softly. "I did the best I could. I was not meant to be a parent." "I know, Severus," Harry held him close. "I know." A cheer rose up from outside of the room and Snape dropped his head into his hands. It was done.
Epilogue Snape pushed open the rusty gate to the graveyard. He turned his wand on the hinge, wondering if anyone had cared to oil the gate since the last time he had been here. Back in the right corner, a cluster of graves lay half-hidden by an old tree. The Snape family plot had grown beyond its space, encroaching on the next plot. There had barely been room to bury Sophismata. Snape wondered where he was going to be buried when the time came. Perhaps with Harry though he dared not suggest it. The Potter plot defiled with the body of a Snape. He almost smiled at the thought. Carefully, Snape sat between two headstones. His right leg had been all but destroyed during the final battle with Voldemort. He was still recovering from the injury almost four months later. On his right, an old weathered headstone bore the name Cassandra Nicolese Snape. He cleared off the moss and dead leaves with a wave of his wand. He ran his hand over the name. His mother had been dead for thirty-three years now, the pain of loss thoroughly dulled by the years. The grave on his left was Sophismata's. Cool marble bore her name and the date of her birth and death. Nothing more. He ran his hand over the ground, the grass tickling his palm. "Good afternoon, Sophie," Snape said quietly. "I have come with news of Voldemort though it will not please you. He is dead. We finally got the upper hand and trapped him. Potter - like he was destined to do - dealt the final blow. The war is over. "The wizarding world is in shambles. The dead outnumber the living and those of us left who fought on the side of the Light are broken and tired. We have much rebuilding to do but it will be done. Voldemort will not win posthumously." Snape began to pluck weeds from around her headstone, falling silent again. A light breeze blew his hair against his face and he reached up to brush it back. "We would have still ended up on the opposites sides of the battle had you not been caught. I would have had to cut you out of my life and forget I had a sister just as you would have been forced to forget that you had a brother," Snape pressed his hand to the grass. "We had five years we would not have had otherwise." "Are you trying to convince her or yourself?" Snape looked over at Harry, a scowl on his face, "Must you interrupt my conversation with her?" "I'm not interrupting," Harry walked over and sat next to Snape. "I got tired of waiting in the car." Snape muttered under his breath and shifted to lean against Harry, "Make yourself useful then." "As your pillow?" "Yes." Snape shifted against him again, trying to get comfortable. He closed his eyes and tilted his face towards the sun. Harry's fingers carded through his hair, allowing Snape to lie against his thigh. "Would you tell me about her?" Harry's voice broke the comfortable silence and Snape looked up at him, squinting slightly. Sunlight was breaking through the branches of the old tree that was shading them. Snape turned his head to the side and looked at Sophismata's headstone, "Give me your wand." Harry grumbled, but handed his wand over. Snape pointed it at the headstone and began to write in the air, the words transcribing on the marble. Without a word, Snape handed the wand back when he was finished. "'My Sophie'," Harry brushed his finger over Snape's arched eyebrow. "I get it now." "Then hush up and let me commune with nature." Snape smacked his thigh lightly and turned on his side, facing the headstone. He reached out and touched his fingers to the added words. The breeze started up again, rustling the leaves of the tree above him. Snape smiled and dropped his hand, resting it on the grass. Harry kept stroking his hair and for the first time in years, Snape felt calm.
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