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Dark Gods In The Blood	By : Hayseed Category: Harry Potter > General > General Views: 3951 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 15
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- 17
A/N: None for this
chapter, I think. Thanks for reading.

Summary: A wandering
student comes home, a broken man pays his penance, and a gruesome murder is
both more and less than it seems. Some
paths to self-discovery have more twists and turns than others.

Rating: R, for
intermittent dark themes, violence, and language

Disclaimer: Nothing
you read here (save the plot and bits of the text itself) belongs to me. Harry Potter and his cronies are the
property of JK Rowling and Warner Bros. (and someone else, probably, but not
me). All chapter headings are properly
credited to their sources.

Dark Gods in the Blood

by: Hayseed (hayseed_42@hotmail.com)

Chapter Fifteen

...
it had caressed him and -- lo! -- he had withered; it had

taken him, loved him, embraced him, got into
his veins,

consumed
his flesh, and sealed his soul to its own by the

inconceivable
ceremonies of some devilish initiation.
He

was its
spoiled and pampered favorite.

-- Joseph Conrad,
Heart of Darkness

Old Jack was in rare form
this afternoon. Apparently not
satisfied with simply sitting quietly at luncheon and looking menacing, Jack had gone from his usual semblance of
near-catatonia to a veritable whirlwind of activity, smashing lunch trays,
throwing food, even going so far as to attack a nurse, leaping at her with
tooth and nail. One Petrificus
Totalus later, of course, found Jack completely
incapacitated, and the orderlies had quickly removed him. Severus knew, based on experience, that Jack
would be confined to his room for the next week at least. His meals would be delivered and if his
behavior did not improve, they would actually bind him to the bed with
restraints.

Sighing, Severus wiped a
glob of some indefinable foodstuff from his brow. At least now that his lunch had been fairly obliterated by Old
Jack�s furor -- he had taken to sitting near the man as of late -- he had an
excuse to abandon it.

He left the cafeteria.

�Where are you headed,
Severus?� one of the male orderlies asked with false cheer as he stepped into
the doorway to block Severus� path.
�Dinner isn�t over.� He was
quite literally the size of a small bull, barrel-chested and
broad-shouldered. Severus did not like
the smile on his face.

With another sigh, he
indicated his messy clothing, liberally dabbed with remnants of Old Jack�s
projectiles. �I would like to change,�
he said pointedly. �Also, if I am
permitted, I would like to shower.�

The orderly smirked --
Severus thought he dimly recognized the face of a Slytherin student he�d taught
some twenty years ago in the man�s features.
�Of course,� he said mockingly, stepping aside to allow Severus to pass.

Wordlessly, he proceeded
to the showers, dropping his scrubs distastefully into a bin full of dirty
clothing in the dressing room.

The air in the shower was
sticky, full of humidity from previous patients taking their morning
turns. A greasy film of soap coated the
tiled room, a row of showerheads lining every wall. There were no curtains, of course; Severus generally tried to
bathe only when he knew he could have the shower to himself and the staff,
after some initial protests, allowed him the small luxury.

He turned on the water at
one of the spouts and stepped under the cold spray, letting it cool the back of
his bare neck.

The whole room stank of
sweat and it made Severus feel dirty.

Reaching out blindly,
water flooding his vision, his fingers found the automatic dispenser near the
water knobs. Soap shot out of the
machine and into his hand at his touch; he scrubbed it into his hair viciously. No shampoo for lunatics, he reflected as the industrial scent wafted up his
nostrils.

After finishing up and
shutting off the water, he padded back over to the dressing room, drippy and
naked. A bin of clean towels sat on the
left-hand side of the doorway and he took one, briskly running it over his
skin. Still quite damp and little
rivulets of water running down his back from his admittedly soggy hair, Severus
turned around to the bins of scrubs.
Hundreds of colorless Muggle-style shirts and trousers, shapeless and
thin from innumerable washings.

Severus gave his head one
last swipe with the towel and tossed it over into the dirty clothes bin sitting
across the room. Sorting briefly
through the mass of cloth, he plucked out a set of scrubs that looked as if
they would fit him as well as any of them might. Water from his hair spotted the shirt as he pulled it over his
head.

The outside door to the
dressing room suddenly opened. �Oi!� a
male voice shouted. It was that same
Slytherin student from earlier. �Severus? You in there?�

He sighed. �Yes?�

�Budge up,� it continued
in a rough voice. �You�ve got a visitor
waiting for you. A lady, Marcy said.�
He could hear the grin in its voice and longed to be able to do
something to remove it.

Unwilling to court trouble,
Severus simply continued dressing, making his way toward the orderly as soon as
he was clothed. The wet hair in his
eyes was only mildly annoying -- the fact that it was a testament to his
managing to evade the hairdresser last week more than made up for any potential
irritation.

The burly orderly frowned
at his appearance. �You look like a
drowned rat, Severus. When�s the last
time they cut your hair?�

He did not bother to
respond, choosing instead to begin walking down the hallway, toward the
visitation rooms. The orderly did not
follow.

A lady, the former
Slytherin had said. And unless he�d
garnered far more admiration during his teaching career than he surmised, that
only meant that Granger was back.

Severus grimaced. Last week she�d asked about Albus. But she hadn�t pushed the issue when he was
evasive. This time, he probably would
not be so lucky.

As he watched his feet
shuffle down the corridor, he mulled it over.
What harm could there be in telling Granger the truth? It couldn�t hurt him. It might affect her opinion of Albus, of
course -- he was unsure exactly what she thought of her old headmaster -- but
Severus had never cared much about what people thought of Albus before.

Besides, it would be
somewhat of a relief to finally be able to tell someone. For more than forty years, he�d not told a
soul. Not even Minerva McGonagall knew,
and she�d been at Hogwarts and known Albus for Severus� entire life. More than, probably.

It seemed perversely
pleasant to be able to break Albus� trust after all this time.

It was decided then, he
realized as he laid his hand on the doorknob between himself and Granger.

He would tell her. He would tell her the truth.

--
-- -- -- --

She did not pull her
punches. �It is another day,� she said
abruptly as he sat down.

Severus blinked, not
immediately understanding her meaning.
And then he had it. Ask
me again one day, he�d said as she left last
time. �You wish to ask me once more?�

Nodding, Granger�s face
was rapt with attention.

For a brief, shining
moment, he nearly refused again.
Refused and insulted her so badly that she�d go away and never come
back.

But then he recalled his
earlier resolve and reined his impulse into check. �What do you know about Albus?� he asked, unsure as to whether he
was looking for a place to start his narrative or simply evading her yet again.

Granger frowned,
concentrating. �He�s very old,� she
said. Apparently she hadn�t meant to
say this aloud, as she blushed immediately.
�Erm ... I mean ...�

�He is,� Severus found
himself agreeing in what could almost pass for a civil tone. �He is one-hundred-eighty-one years of age.�

Accepting his gesture,
she continued. �And I know he taught at
Hogwarts as early as the 1940�s. Harry
once said that he saw him in Tom Riddle�s old diary. He had red hair ...�
Granger trailed off for a moment, either thinking or dreaming. �He knew Nicholas Flamel well enough to help
him with the philosopher�s stone Flamel had.
And, of course, they were after him for Minister of Magic many years ago
-- I don�t know if they still are. And
he battled Grindelwald.� She concluded
her list briskly. �Oh ... and he has a
brother. Or, at least, he did. Harry said something about Dumbledore�s
brother and, what was it? A sheep?�

Severus smirked,
recalling that particular incident. �A goat, actually. Albus
does like to bait his brother about it whenever he gets a chance.�

�Oh,� she said in a small
voice. And then, more firmly --�That�s
all I know about him. Not much, really,
when you consider everything he�s done.�

�Well ...� he said,
tilting back in his chair. �The
Dumbledore family is a fairly old one.
Not particularly pureblooded, as wizarding families go, but they�ve had
their moments of importance. Albus does
indeed have a brother. Aberforth is
many years younger than Albus -- close to thirty, I think. He was ...�
Severus permitted himself a grim sort of smile. � ... an unexpected child to say the least. Albus� mother was more than fifty when
Aberforth and his twin were born.�

Her brow furrowed. �Professor Dumbledore has another brother?�

�Not a brother,� he
corrected. �A sister, actually. Albertina -- their mother had a fondness for
names beginning with the letter �A.��
He saw Granger smile broadly. �I
suppose most people wouldn�t know about her, though,� he conceded. �She and Albus were fairly close -- as close
as a brother and sister with thirty years between them can be, at any
rate. If I remember correctly, he
actually presided over her wedding -- he was with the Ministry at that
point. But they lost contact for many
years. Albertina and her husband
inherited his father�s estate -- he was a Muggleborn, you see -- and retreated
from the wizarding world. The estate,
by all accounts, had fallen into disrepair.
But they made a few rather clever investments and -- while never truly
wealthy -- they were able to enjoy some degree of comfort.

�Between the interim,
Albertina had a single child -- a daughter.
But she had not been in touch with her brothers for many years and her
parents were long dead. So I expect
Albus was quite surprised one year when the girl showed up at Hogwarts. It was 1925, I believe. Or thereabouts. Albertina and John -- that was his name, John Darcy -- tried to
have children for many years without success, so their daughter was born very
late in their lives. She had grown up
quite isolated on their country estate.

�Agrippina Darcy --
that�s the daughter, Albus� niece -- was a curious sort of person,� he said
slowly, trying to settle on a gentle phrase to satisfy Granger�s hungry
curiosity. He closed his eyes, trying
to remember her face and failing, as usual.
�Recall, Miss Granger, that she had spent the first ten years of her
life living as a Muggle. A Muggle who,
incidentally, came from a formerly noble, wealthy family that was now reduced
to living in a crumbling old mansion with only enough money to support a
lifestyle that she was beginning to see as bourgeois.�

He held her complete
attention, now. Severus could see the
question in her eyes -- what
does this have to do with you?

�Thus, not only was Albus
surprised to learn of the existence of his niece, he was absolutely shocked that the
child of his beloved, gentle sister was Sorted into Slytherin without so much
as a pause. The Hat barely had to touch
her head. Agrippina wanted only one
thing in the world at that point in her life -- the restoration of honor and
wealth to the Darcy name. And the Hat
knew that she would have done anything to see it happen.

�Agrippina was at
Hogwarts a good twenty years before Voldemort,� he said, hesitating only
slightly on the Dark Lord�s name. �But
the pureblood fanaticism was already permeating the school. It had always been an undercurrent, of
course -- Salazar Slytherin and Godric Gryffindor themselves had a major
falling-out over the issue.�

Granger�s gaze was
reproachful and Severus felt the urge to defend Slytherin bubbling up in his gut
-- weakly, he gave in to it, diverging from his story long enough only to glare
at her and say,

�Miss Granger, consider
the fact that the Founders lived more than a thousand years ago. Slytherin did not hate Muggles -- he saw
them as a threat to wizarding society.�
He felt himself slipping into lecture mode and his hands itched for a
piece of chalk. �Muggle society in
pre-Norman Britain was a brutal blend of Christianity and Saxon
factionalism. Muggle awareness of a
wizarding presence would have meant all-out war, Miss Granger. Surely you can see that.�

The grudging glint in her
eyes confirmed it, but she till protested.
�Muggle awareness, certainly.
But is that any reason for full discrimination?�

�Gryffindor was the son
of two wizards, Miss Granger,� he continued.
�Raised in a wizarding enclave.
He knew nothing of Muggle society and, to be honest, they fascinated
him. His desire to include them stemmed
more from curiosity than any sense of compassion. But Slytherin�s mother was a Muggleborn witch, half-trained in
her arts, and worked as a midwife in a Muggle village. She was stabbed and beaten to death in front
of him when he was a child -- angry villagers that saw her arts as
devil-worshipping witchcraft. He knew
what sort of mentality ninth-century Muggleborns were likely to have and how
they would react to the knowledge of the existence of wizards.�

Her expression was still
skeptical, but he could tell that his revelation about Slytherin�s background
had surprised her. He dimly recalled
that she was a Muggleborn and felt the need to continue.

�Miss Granger,� he said,
not unkindly, �I am not attempting to justify pureblood discrimination, and
certainly not in this more enlightened time.
I simply wanted you to understand the context of Slytherin�s
belief. It was more fear than hatred --
fear that Muggleborn students could not overcome their preconceived notions
based on a society that has long since gone to dust. And while his concerns are now baseless, for the most part,
during his time, they may have had some merit.�

�I know,� she
replied. �It�s just ... I hadn�t ever
considered it from that perspective.�

Severus cleared his
throat. �Anyway ... back to your
initial question. Agrippina, as a
half-blood thrown into Slytherin house at a time when these prejudices were
rearing their ugly head, found her focus shifting. Instead of wanting to restore the former glory of her father�s Muggle
family, she became obsessed with the purity of blood. She saw herself as tainted and grew to resent both her parents --
her father, simply for what he was, and her mother, for besmirching the
Dumbledore name with Muggle blood. Of
course she knew, by that time, that the Transfigurations teacher was her uncle,
but she did not seem to care. Albus did
not have a strong relationship with her.

�It should not be
surprising to you, then, that Agrippina set her sights on marrying into the
oldest, purest wizarding family that would have her. She was pragmatic -- her �dirty� blood would keep her from the
most noble -- but she was not turned from her task and spent most of her time
at Hogwarts, apart from coursework, hunting for a potential husband. Whether or not Albus noticed this -- or, if
he did, whether he mentioned it to Albertina -- I do not know.

�In her seventh year,
when she was growing most desperate, Agrippina finally met a worthwhile
candidate. Actually, she met his
brother. Her future husband�s brother
was a first-year Ravenclaw that she saw one day being bullied by a pair of
sixth-year boys. She ran the boys off
-- more with hopes of points for Slytherin in mind than any actual concern over
the Ravenclaw�s well-being, I am sure -- and saw the injured child to the
infirmary. In so doing, she learned his
name. Tertius Snape.�

Granger gasped and
Severus snorted with laughter.

�Had you not guessed it
yet, Granger? You should be
ashamed.� Smirking at her reproachful
glare, he continued blandly. �Tertius
was grateful for the attention and, in turn, then, told her everything she wanted
to know. She was his friend, I think,
when it suited her purposes.

�The Snape family was
indeed old, just as Agrippina wanted.
And as pureblooded as they come.
Unfortunately, the Snapes were not, as she had hoped, particularly
wealthy. Tertius� great-grandfather ran
through the last of the fortune in his lifetime, leaving his widow with a
useless castle and a stack of gambling debts.
The castle had been sold by Tertius� father once they were unable to afford
the upkeep and thus the Snapes, much to Agrippina�s horror, were very nearly
middle-class. Tertius� older brothers
-- of which there were, predictably, I suppose, two -- were both actually
employed. Primus, the eldest, had
established a fair name for himself at Gringotts,� but he was also,
regrettably, married.

�It was the younger
brother, Secundus, who Agrippina found herself asking about. Secundus, an apothecary who worked in a shop
in Diagon Alley, save his abominable state of near-poverty, had the qualities
she sought. He was pureblooded, from a
respectable family, and blissfully unmarried.
Even the age difference -- a mere fifteen years -- was quite acceptable
to her.�

Granger shocked him here by interrupting his monologue. �Why didn�t she marry Tertius?�

Severus shrugged. �Who can say? Perhaps she could not see anything in him but a little boy, eager
to please his friend. I like to think
that maybe she did not want to corrupt him by involving him in her little
scheme -- that she genuinely liked him.
But I must be realistic -- the truth is that Agrippina was a rather
beautiful young woman and as soon as she walked into Secundus� shop later that
year, he wanted her. She captivated him
and he proposed to her before she even finished at Hogwarts. They married not two months after she
graduated.

�But they realized an
important fact not long after the wedding -- they did not like each other. Agrippina hated that Secundus had to work
and Secundus resented that Agrippina carried on with her lifestyle as if he did
not. The bills piled up and they were
deep in debt before they were wed for five years -- she bought a lavish home,
had it fully furnished, entertained her friends on almost a daily basis, lived
as extravagantly as if she had married a prince instead of a poor potions
brewer. As a consequence,� he said,
pausing partially to breathe but mostly for effect, �I was not born until my
parents had been married for nearly twenty-five years.�

�Then ...� Granger began
haltingly. �Then Albus Dumbledore is
your ...�

�My great-uncle,� he
completed for her. �Yes.�

He relished the look on
her face -- bewilderment, amazement, and curiosity a delightful blend in her
eyes. �But ...� she spluttered for a
moment. �But you don�t look anything
like him!�

Taken aback, Severus
actually allowed a rather genuine laugh to escape. �I can assure you, Miss Granger, that it is true. In fact, if you can manage to find a
photograph of my uncle Aberforth, you will find that we have identical
noses. I am also told that my hands are
very like my grandmother Albertina�s.�

�Voldemort was a
brilliant creature,� Severus said with a grimace. �Mad as a hatter, of course, but brilliant. He knew that not many would come flocking to
his banner if he spoke about world domination and the purging of the
races. So he employed a more subtle
approach, telling his inner circle to recruit members as they saw fit, offering
each exactly what they wanted. Once in
the system, he could �re-educate� us.�

Granger looked
horrified. �That�s ... that�s awful!�

�Of course it is,� he
agreed. �What did you expect, Miss
Granger? No ... Voldemort used Lucius
Malfoy to pull me into his organization, showing me only the best points,
offering me funds for research, and a ready-made group of companions. He reeled me in within a year. By May, I was branded with the Dark Mark.�

�But ...� Granger
began. �But you went back to
Dumbledore.�

He quirked an eyebrow at
her. �I rose quickly within the
ranks. I was eager to please my new
masters and they rewarded me with such praise for my efforts that it was only a
matter of time until I was invited into the inner circle. Six months after I took the Mark, Lucius
brought me to an inner circle meeting.
Wearing a silver cloak and a dark mask, I took my place within the
circle. And I was terrified.

�The Lucius Malfoy that
treated me with kindness and patience was gone. As was the gently charismatic Lord Voldemort. In their places were fanatics, preaching a
new world order, in which wizards ruled and Muggles lived only by our
leave. I realized that they were
fighting a war, a war with the Ministry and a war with my uncle. Voldemort openly called Albus an �old fool,�
and spoke freely about what he would do to him, and his Order of the Phoenix,
once he was in power. He ordered Lucius
to �eliminate� an Auror and his family -- he was getting too close to the
truth, you see. When I protested to
Lucius, I was placed under the Cruciatus curse for the first time in my life.

�I went to Albus that
very night. I threw myself at his feet,
begging for forgiveness and offering him every piece of information I had on
the Death Eaters. And while I had eliminated
any chance I ever had of joining Voldemort�s inner circle, I still offered to
go crawling back to Lucius, to continue collecting evidence against the Death
Eater organization. Albus took me at my
word and I became a spy until my usefulness ran out.� Bowing his head, he focused his gaze on a small, unidentifiable
stain on his trousers. �That, Miss
Granger, is why Albus Dumbledore is my next-on. It is also, in some small part, not only why I am here, but why
he feels the need to visit me as well.
Think of me what you will.�

Granger was quiet for a
moment. Finally, she said, �I think you
are a good person, Professor Snape. You
have not been handed an easy path in life, but you have walked it nonetheless. I think I understand a little more now.�

�Good.�

Still contemplative, she
stood up, giving him a look he could not immediately identify. �I will see you next week, sir.�

He watched her leave as
he always did, overwhelmed and exhausted.
After all, he had just said more in the span of two hours than he had in
the last five years. To Hermione
Granger, of all people. It rather
boggled the mind.

-- -- --
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Dark Gods In The Blood