Severus... Reformed / SNILY (COMPLETE)

Chapter Seven

Severus climbed the spiral staircase apprehensively, and very, very slowly, not eager to see Dumbledore's face. It hadn't been so bad in the Limbo place, but here, in real-life, seeing your father-figure that you murdered at their request was a bit surreal.

"Good morning, Mr. Snape," Dumbledore greeted. "I trust you slept well? Lemon drop?"

Severus simply raised an eyebrow. Trust Albus to say that when he knew full well of Severus' insomnia. Only he didn't. He kept forgetting that vital detail. This was not the same Albus that Severus had known. This was the younger, less weary kind that offered lemon drops whenever possible and was a downright nuisance.

Albus decided to press on, given that the boy hadn't responded.

"I must say, I've been more than a little curious to meet you, Mr. Snape. There are rumours of your talent in the classroom, and many professors have expressed an inclination to have you moved up to a more advanced year. I merely wanted to hear what you have to say about it."

"I learnt many things before I came here, Headmaster," Severus began slowly, easily interpreting what Dumbledore was asking. "My mother is a keen Herbologist and brews potions for Slugs and Jiggers. I helped her with the brewing, and the collecting of the herbs from the moors. One day, I found her collection of spellbooks. I poured over them in the years that followed. I've completed the Standard Book of Spells series and I can identify most herbs. My Potions knowledge is rather higher than your average eleven year-old." He confessed, as if imparting a great secret. He paused. "Some of my mother's books are of darker magic. I know many curses, Professor."

Dumbledore looked at the boy interestedly. "You realise that those words could get your mother arrested?"

Severus spoke his next words quietly, and selected them carefully. "My mother is dying, Headmaster. If she goes to Azkaban, it would only accelerate the process. I doubt she would even notice the difference between the walls of her bedroom and the walls of a cell. I assure you Professor, the only thing my mother is guilty of is not giving enough love when she was well, and a poor choice of husband. That is all."

"Your father is a Muggle, I believe?" Dumbledore asked.

"Yes, Professor. But my best friend is a Muggle-born. If I had a prejudice against them, trust me, I would hide it better than that."

Albus believed this strange boy. He got the feeling that there was more to share than an invalid mother, a terrible husband, and a distant view of politics. The boy seemed far older than eleven.

"You may go, Mr. Snape. I shall be rearranging your timetable. Some subjects are a little wanting, are they not?" Dumbledore raised an eyebrow.

Severus replied, "Of course, Sir," leaving Albus stricken, for that was what Tom Riddle always said. Who was this boy, and what was the truth?

*

Severus began brewing the Wolfsbane Potion on his second weekend. Even in this day and age, Moaning Myrtle's bathroom was primarily disused, for the most part, and Severus had done well to win Myrtle over. She had promised to scare people away from the bubbling cauldron, after Severus had made a promise.

"Myrtle, I shall promise to get rid of Tom Riddle once and for all. He shall pay for what he did to you and Helena Ravenclaw."

She seemed, if possible, more teary than her usual self. "That's the nicest thing anyone's ever said to me!" She gasped.

"You can't have met many decent people, then." Which of course sent her wailing into the nearest cubicle for a little reminiscence on the U-bend.