Severus,
Meet me in my office; there’s something important to be discussed.
Albus
Severus marched out of his classroom at once after reading the Floo message sent through by Albus.
"Class is being dismissed fifteen minutes earlier, but that by no means signifies that you are free to do any of your idiotic explorations. I want an essay on the Elixir of Lucid Dreams potion on my desk the first thing tomorrow when you enter the class," he briskly instructed the fifth-years about their task as he approached the door. His gestures discernibly indicated that he was in a hurry and desperately wanted to know what was so important. He hadn’t changed a bit when inside the classroom. He was still the grumpy, unpleasant, greasy-haired dungeon master, but outside the class, the case was a bit divergent. He greeted other teachers whenever he crossed paths with them; he greeted students too, to their amazement. Still, he kept mostly to himself, but now, he didn’t act like his previous self whom people had no idea about. People got an idea of what his true identity was: a young man who had made mistakes and had the courage to acknowledge and fix them.
One year, five months, twenty-seven days, sixteen hours, forty-eight minutes and thirty-three seconds had passed since the war, and people were still recovering from it. Albus made a serious decision to reopen the school seven months ago, and it had helped out quite a bit. Life was getting back on track again for everyone except for Severus. People saw him as a war hero, which felt weird to him. He was no war hero, after all. The Daily Prophet celebrated his story more than his actual existence--why wouldn't they? After all, they got such an intricate and juicy story to publish after a long time. Nobody except Albus, Minerva, Hagrid, and Filius knew about the spell the Dark Lord had cast on him and that fact relieved him. He hadn’t wanted any more spotlight upon him now. But it still bothered him that he didn’t know what the spell was or what it had done to him because nothing had happened to him still. He was still very much alive and healthy. But one thing still bothered him. Those eyes… to whom did those eyes belong? His heart pounded a little every time those eyes appeared in front of his black orbs. He didn't know why that happened to him.
So much into his thoughts, he almost walked past Albus' room. Saying the password, he very patiently waited and walked in briskly. The room was quite the same. Nothing had changed about it. Albus liked keeping it simple and placid. Albus was sitting at his desk as always. Minerva, Hagrid, and Filius were also there, standing by the fireplace with worried looks on their faces. But another lady was also there, seated on the chair in front of Albus, sipping a cup of tea. She was a middle-aged woman, around 55, wearing a knee-length black dress wrapped around her body. Looking at her emerald green eyes, he could see she was lost in thought. Her grey hair was neatly tied into a bun behind her head. She exuded a thick aura of elegance. Giving him a warm and welcoming glance, she smiled at him. He gave a nod in response.
Clearing his throat, he formally acknowledges Albus, " You called for me, Headmaster?"
A serious expression came over Albus’ face. Severus could sense that something was not right; he could no longer see the twinkle in the old man's eyes.
"Well, Severus, thanks for coming," Albus replied in a tone devoid of any expression. "You are aware of the fact that what happened to you on the night of the battle is unfamiliar to any of us. The spell he used was beyond our knowledge to this day." He paused, collecting his thoughts. "As I have told you earlier, I informed many scholars regarding the spell, but even they were unaware of it, but this sweet lady, Ms Angelina, seems to know what that spell was," he continued.
Severus almost jumped in his place. He had searched for the meaning of the spell. The look on the lady's face abashed him. An awkward silence came over the room. No one uttered a word. Actually, no one knew what to say.
"So, Mr Snape, I am Rose Angelina, but you can just call me Angelina. I am a spell scholar working for the Ministry. Mr Dumbledore wrote to me about the spell a year ago, and I researched it. The knowledge I gained is very intricate and knotty." She spoke in an elegant manner.
She had decided to break the silence and let Severus know his fate because nothing could be done to change it. He shot a perturbed glance at her.
She let out a narrow sigh and continued, "This spell has a connection with my own family, and it has only been used once around 1200 years ago."
He was shocked by that fact and did nothing to mask it.
"It would be good for you to tell Severus directly what the spell is and what it did to him," Albus interjected as he saw the startled look on Severus’ face.
"So, Mr Severus," she continued in the same soft and elegant tone, "This happens to be an imprinting curse. That means it will forcefully make you imprint upon someone, and you will be forced to love them till your very last breath." She spat out the details without any hesitation. "But one more thing, Mr Severus, you will not imprint on one of your choices, but someone who is the choice of the spell caster," she told him.
"Twelve hundred years ago, a member of my family named Rogan Barks fell madly in love with a woman, but the woman didn't reciprocate his feelings. A mighty wizard was he. He created the Forbidden curse and used it on the woman. It forced her to love someone, but not him. Instead, she fell in love with a monster of a man, and there was nothing she could do to stop it. Eventually, she died a sad death after ending the sufferings of her life. Since then, it became known as the Curse of Forbidden Love and nobody has cast it until now because it needs the very last of your living energy," she related to them as sadness crept into her voice.
He fell onto the chair nearest him. What! Mourning an impossible love again for my whole life. Oh, Merlin, what bad did I do? he thought to himself. First Lily now someone he didn’t even know.
Why me? He thought to himself.
"Severus, it's not your fault." He felt Minerva's hand on his shoulder.
Holy jinxes! He had said all that aloud.
His mind felt numb to him. He couldn't think anymore; he felt dumbfounded.
"Can anything be done to alter this...?" he mumbled weakly, more to himself than anything.
"Yes, but I am not sure if it would work or not," she replied, her voice sounded perturbed. "I have dealt with very complicated spells, but this is something different. It has only been used once, well now twice, and no one knows who you will imprint upon," she continued.
"But to do anything, I need a piece of your body, probably a thread of hair will do fine. One that has been touched by the Patronus of the snake. Then I can try and choose a suitable person for you to imprint upon." Darkness filled her eyes.
"You can do that?" Minerva exclaimed softly.
"As I said, I am not sure if I can, but my heritage allows me to reverse the curse. so maybe I can give it a try," Angelina replied in a tone devoid of expression.
Still in horror by the words that had poured out of the mouth of the lady, Severus couldn't move. It felt to him like he was paralyzed.
"I think we should give Ms Angelina a chance to try to amend this curse," Albus spoke, breaking the unbearable silence in the room.
Severus nodded his head, dumbfounded.
The lady rose from her place, and with the wave of her wand, a thread of his hair was in her hand. So thunderstruck by the knowledge of what the curse meant, he didn't even feel the pain of the hair being plucked.
He got up from his couch and almost ran towards the Dungeons, not in a mood to entertain anyone now. Down in his own chamber, he didn't know what to do, so he did what he thought was best He created a mess because he had done so first with his own life, and now his room was the next victim. Throwing things, he tore off the exquisite green wallpaper, shredding the sheets to oblivion and breaking the oak furniture. His room was a complete wreck. The ink from his inkpot had been splashed all over the shredded green wallpaper. He was breathing heavily.
"Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa!" he screamed at the top of his lungs and tangled his long, pale fingers in the sheet of raven black hair, all out of frustration. He wanted to end it all --end his life and stop the suffering. He couldn't handle it anymore. Determined to do so, he took a piece of shattered glass from the ink pot to cut his wrist and bleed to death.
"Ending your own life will only accomplish what the curse of the Dark Lord seeks to do, Severus," Albus' voice came from behind his back.
He turned and shot a glance at the old man. He stood at the door, ignoring the wreck Severus had made.
Severus felt warm tears rolling down his cheeks. Falling on the floor, he pressed his long legs against his chest and wrapped his lean arms around them. Sobbing, he sat there silently for what seemed like an eternity.
" Severus, we promise to do whatever it takes to help you, " Albus said as if declaring war.
"Why me...?" he mumbled weakly. "Why does it always have to be me...?"
" Because God has given you the strength to withstand it." Albus' reply helped him a little.
A thick silence took over the room, neither of them tried to break it. But then Albus spoke with a sigh.
" Severus, whatever comes your way, either a solution or not, you will find Minerva and me by your side; I promise you that."