Prologue:
"No, Severus! Sirius would never betray Lily and James!" Mellisson Snape tore around the corner after her husband, her waist long white hair trailing behind her lithe form. "Sirius would never turn to Voldemort!"
In one smooth movement, Severus Snape, double agent spy for Albus Dumbledore, rounded on his wife, bringing his hands to grip her shoulders painfully. In the background of the storm, he heard his one-year-old daughter begin to cry. "Mellisson, this is not some game, and no matter how much you wish it otherwise, what I have said is true, it's already done in fact. Sirius has betrayed Lily, and Voldemort even now is preparing to go after Harry! Mellisson," he shook her harder than he had intended. "If I do not warn them, they will die! Voldemort will stop at nothing to kill Potter, you know that! He'll stop at nothing to kill Harry, to kill Lily's son!"
Her heart racing, her shoulders aching under his crushing grip, Mellisson looked deep into her husband's eyes and saw the truth. Desperate hands sought purchase on something, and they moved up to grip the deceptively strong biceps of her twenty year old husband, her shaking hands just inches from his shoulder length, jet black hair. "Severus—"
At the terror in her voice, Severus pulled his wife into his arms, crushing her to his chest, holding onto her for all that he was.
"Severus, that murder cannot kill Harry. L-Lily would never recover." Her voice was quite now, whispers against his chest as she searched out his embrace for something to take the terror away.
"Lily might not have the chance. Listen to me Mellisson!" He pushed her from him roughly, his deep black eyes penetrating into her pale blue ones, so much like the color of her animagus form. "I know we have not always agreed on my role in this war, and when I am finished you and I and Morganna will be little better than the Potters. We'll need to leave, to go into hiding. Once I warn James, Voldemort will know who I'm really working for, who I've been working for since the beginning!
"Gather everything you can; leave nothing you'll regret not having later. We'll never make it back to this house while it's in any semblance of shape. Voldemort will come here to kill me as soon as he realizes that James isn't where Black told him. Get Morganna and all her things, be ready when I get back!"
He pulled away then, ready to Apparate, when her desperate hands clutched the sleeves of his black robe. "Severus, where will you go?! You don't even know where James and Lily are, no one knows except Sirius and now Voldemort, that's the idea of a Secret Keeper! How will you warn them?!"
Turning back to her, he spared her no smile, only the harsh sting of his cold voice. "Dumbledore, I'll go to him. There isn't anything that goes on with Harry that he isn't a part of." He turned again to Apparate, but this time when Mellisson wrapped her arms about his left one and held on for all her might, he understood.
Again he took her into his arms, nuzzling his nose into her hair and breathing deeply of her scent. She was a mixture of the snow, of cold winter days by a frozen lake, and she was Madam J's Baby Powder, in a smell that reminded him his daughter was still crying in the baby room. He held her close for as long as he could, far longer than he should have under the circumstances.
Eventually he couldn't wait any longer. Pulling back he leaned down, kissing the woman he'd promised to love for the rest of his life—far longer ago than the day they were married. Her mouth was desperate to possess his, to hold onto him for just one moment longer, and as the kiss itself deepened, he crushed her body to his, running his fingers up into the glorious silk of her beautiful white, blond hair.
When not even air could be denied, he pulled back, breathing deeply, the feel of her breasts heaving through the fabric of their robes. His hands moved from her back to encompass her face, bringing her eyes up to meet his. "I always knew there was a possibility that Voldemort would find us—"
She interrupted him, the cold steel of her eyes flashing in a moment of indignant anger. "I knew what I was getting into when I married you! You know how much I hate it—especially after Morganna was born. But I understand why you're doing it, I've always understood. While everyone else in the world thinks Severus Snape is Death Eater scum, I knew you were five times braver than the great Auror James Potter! But I knew you're deception would one day find you, find us! I knew and now I'm ready for it!" She pulled him down by his neck, pressing her lips hard against his, forcing them both into a kiss that they knew was for good-bye as she prepared to let him go to Dumbledore.
She pushed him away from her, and he knew at least part of that act was so she didn't cling to him again. "Go, Severus. I'll get Morganna and all of our things together. I'll be ready by the time you get back." He nodded, turning to go when she called out to him. "Severus, just promise me one thing."
He closed his eyes briefly, knowing few promises could be made under such circumstances. "Anything, my love."
"Promise me no matter what else, you'll take care of yourself, and you'll take care of Morganna. Promise me, Severus!" A note of desperation entered her voice and he felt the call to comfort her so strong he had to turn away.
"I swear it to you, Mellisson. I will come back for you and Morganna, and I will never let any harm, from Voldemort or anyone else, come to our daughter."
Behind him came only silence. Knowing haste should have already propelled him into Dumbledore's office but that he could leave now without seeing her, Severus turned, bounding up the massive stairs in the entrance way—the sound of his wife's navy blue robes right behind him. At the top he turned to the right, barreling down the hallway until he came to the last door and threw it open. He walked through their bedroom, the massive oak canopy bed draped in velvet barely catching his notice. One more door was pulled aside, and there she was, short black hair and pale blue eyes staring back at him from tear stained cheeks as she stood supported against the hand carved crib wall.
She was the most precious thing in his life, his miracle. Not a day passed when he didn't wonder how Mellisson had seen through his cold personality to find a man she's willingly make a father. Morganna's tiny hands reached out for him, and in three quick strides he had her from the crib and in his arms, cooing to her softly, doing his best to sooth her. He watched as Mellisson moved to begin her packing in this room.
Lowering the pitch of his voice, he talked soothingly to his daughter, wasting valuable time in this one last selfish act. "Morganna, shhhh. It's going to be alright. Daddy's going to find us all a nice new place to live. When I get back, you, me and mummy are all going to a brand new place. And would you like to know what else? I bet Harry will get to come and visit you! Yes, I bet he will! And aunt Lily and," he looked over to catch his wife's smiling face, and gave an only slightly mocking scowl. "And Uncle James too. Mummy's going to be packing a lot of things, so you watch her use her wand for a little while so you can grow up to be a great witch just like Mummy, OK?" He lifted her so he could see her face, see the brightness of her eyes, the softness of her skin, and the red marks on her cheeks from her past tears. But she was smiling now, reaching her hands out to touch his just slightly too large nose. She caught it and held on.
Smiling, he turned to his wife, his voice nasally from her grip. "You know, she gets that from you."
Mellisson shrugged. "It's sometimes the only way to shut you up." Now she reached out for Morganna, and with one last kiss to her warm cheek, he passed her over. "Hurry, Severus, whatever I don't have time to pack we don't need."
"Money is not a concern, Mellisson, remember that. Take only the sentimental things, only things galleons can't buy, we'll replace the rest later." She nodded, tears in her eyes which she fought desperately not to allow to fall. His hand came immediately to her cheek, his other to the back of Morganna's head. "I have never once broken a promise to you, Mellisson. I will return for the both of you." She nodded again, and with nothing more to say, he stepped back and Apparated to Dumbledore.
Finally allowing the tears to fall, Mellisson shifted her only child to her hip and swiped desperately at her cheeks for the falling moisture. When she looked back, it was into the studying eyes of her one-year-old daughter.
"Morganna, Mummy thinks Daddy's wrong, you might have my eyes, but you certainly have Daddy's look." Sweeping her daughter back into the crib, she moved once more about the room, shrinking those momentos she could not live without, and worrying constantly for her husband and her best friend Lily.
Around her the great castle that was home to every master of the Snape bloodline since man first began to call themselves wizards, was silent, the only sounds coming from the plastic toys that Lily had insisted all babies needed. Morganna played happily with the wobbly little men that bounced back no matter how hard she pushed them. Mellisson couldn't help but stop to watch her daughter at play in a moment of wasted time.
She remembered the shocked expression on Severus's face when she finally worked up the courage to tell the reluctant man that he was going to be a father. He hadn't really wanted children, especially because of his role as a double agent, and secretly because of the abuse he feared he'd pass on from his own upbringing. But the pregnancy had been unplanned, and she had been so happy. She recalled her voice had shook as she told him, already having brought his hand to rest lightly against her belly. And his eyes, his eyes always told the truth of him if only one looked hard enough, those had been filled with so much apprehension, and yet, a joy so profound she had never once seen its like.
Sighing, Mellisson moved from the nursery to the master bedroom. More time conscious now that she was away from her daughter, the longhaired woman flew into action. Drawers were pulled open, clothing rummaged through. The basic necessities were gather, but she understood Severus's words. When Dumbledore found them a safe house, there would be plenty of money to replace the material possessions they would lose.
She raced to the closet, quickly shrinking her handfasting dress, and on impulse both Severus and her old Hogwarts' robes. Shoes were quickly reduced and the now miniature articles were thrown into an old shoe box. She took nothing of the jewelry she'd been given as her right as Severus's wife, instead taking only the few pieces he'd given her since their courtship and marriage.
She called back to Morganna that she'd be right back and then tore across the room to the door. Racing down the hallway, she stopped to consider taking some of the more beautiful antiques, but quickly moved on. Severus had not wanted them to live in this house, surrounded by things that reminded him of his parents. Only his need to keep up bloodline appearances for the Death Eaters had caused him to come back here. She recalled how he had adamantly refused to have them spend their first night in his parent's old bed, now vacant since their deaths five years ago. She'd come from a very poor family, but had petitioned her parents to indulge her one expensive thing. The bed had been their handfasting present to the new couple.
Bypassing article after article, she moved quickly down the stairs; their wedding and picture albums were in the family room at the back of the house.
At the bottom of the stairs, she whipped around the corner and slammed into someone very large and very short.
Crying out, she stepped back, and before her very eyes was none other than Peter Pettigrew, his eyes somewhat cold, but mostly nervous.
"Hello, Mellisson."
And she knew! Knew like she just sometimes knew things, like her daughter would one day know as well--it wasn't Sirius who betrayed the Potters, it was Peter. With a cry she pulled her wand from her robes and pointed it at his chest. Peter had always been slower than the rest, but he'd already had his wand out. With one word, Mellisson's wand flew from her hands and into Peter's. But the fool looked up to catch it, and during that quick time of distraction, Mellisson turned and ran for the stairs.
Heart beating wildly, she pushed her muscles to carry her terrified form up the staircase that suddenly had far too many stairs. Panicking, desperate to reach her daughter, to protect Morganna, her foot caught in her floor length velvet robes and she fell in the middle. It was enough time. With a call from Peter, she felt the unforgivable Cruciatus curse race into every fiber of her body. Every muscle, every cell, constricted, while at the same time, her insides seemed to expand, the duality causing more torture to the body than even Morganna's birth.
She screamed, terror racing with the cramps that accompanied the curse. She wanted to die, wanted at that moment to beg for death, but something inside her told her she could not. She had to fight, she had no choice, Peter Pettigrew the traitor was here, and he was going to kill her daughter.
How she managed it she'd never know. In the full grip of the Cruciatus curse, she managed to begin a slow but deliberate crawl up the stairs. She knew why he was here, knew that Voldemort had learned of Severus's betrayal, and knew, without doubt, that Voldemort had finally figured out just who Alseeonae Morganna Snape was.
Behind her convulsing form, Peter swore, and at the rustle of his robes, she knew he was preparing to cast the curse again. She didn't know what to do, didn't know how she was going to get her daughter away from this man, this traitor to both herself and Lily.
A brilliant flash of inspiration hit her, and with all the acting skills she'd used as a Death Eater's wife, she gave a cry, a moan, and then crumpled to the stairs, hoping to buy herself some time to recover from the after effects of the curse. It worked beautifully, behind her Peter drew a great sigh, and then moved around her body, up the stairs and down the hallway. He was going to hurt Morganna!
She willed her body to recover faster, wishing desperately that she had a bit of chocolate to ease the pain. Resigned to the fact that she had nothing, she waited in terror as she heard her bedroom door close.
Now, more afraid then ever that Pettigrew was only yards from her only child, Mellisson stood, resisting the call of her body to just lay down, to rest a little longer. She used her arms to pull herself up the stairs, one step after another sending jolts of pain to her brain that she refused to notice.
At the top of the stairs, she heard the most terrifying sound she had ever heard, a sound that reached into her chest and threatened to shred her soul—the sound of her baby screaming under the Cruciatus curse.
Not stopping to consider, not giving a single notice to the long forgotten pain of her muscles, Mellisson raced down the hallway, the pain filled screams of Morganna filling her ears until she could hear nothing else, see nothing else but the sound of her daughter's cries.
She didn't stop in her bedroom, only bounded into the nursery and tackled Pettigrew, not baring to look at the arching form of a baby that had not yet even taken her first step. Her hands balled into fists just as Sirius Black had once shown her and Lily on the grass by the lake at Hogwarts. She rained blow after blow to the face of the man that would dare harm a child—her child!
Mellisson never even heard him approach the nursery door. "Mellisson, your husband has been a very, very, bad man." She felt Cruciatus slam into her again as her eyes turned and locked on Lucius Malfoy's.
Convulsing and crying out, she remembered clearly the moment Morganna's cries stopped, remembered the seconds of her own painfully spasming body in terms of the time it would take for Morganna to cry out in fear of past pain and the strangers. But the cry didn't come, and suddenly, Mellisson knew, her baby was dead.
Not Cruciatus, not Pettigrew, not even Lucius could stop her. Racked with pain she again ignored, Mellisson stood, stumbling to the crib to look down at the pain etched face of her baby girl. Turning, to face the murders, her hands into claws, she took a step towards the small shaking man, and the cold calculating one.
"Avada Kedavra." Came the coldness of old money and superiority.
The light left Malfoy's outstretched wand, and slammed into Mellisson's poised body. The force pushed the now dead body back, slamming it into the crib, sending both mother and daughter under the debree of the now crushed masterpiece.
Nothing from the crib moved.
With a cool smile Malfoy turned, indicating the mess on his way out the door. "Make sure Alseeonae is dead." Then, to himself, "Poor, poor Severus Snape, what good is Harry Potter's Fatemuse if she's dead?" He stopped by the wall next to the nursery door, and with a wave of his wand, carved the mark of Voldemort before Apparating.
Pettigrew turned, his terrified eyes looking down into those lifeless blue ones that had once called him friend. The way she'd fallen, the way her body had slammed into the crib, the baby, the little girl with jet black hair that had been instructed to call him Uncle Peter was crushed by the wood of the crib and her mother's body.
Shaking, Pettigrew moved to shove Mellisson's body away to check the child, the little girl with jet black hair so much like her father's, eyes a nearly white blue color, so much like her mother's…which now stared up at him accusingly.
He pulled his hand back as if he'd been hit with a repelling charm. There was no way Alseeonae could have survived both the Cruciatus curse and the slamming weight of oak wood and her mother's body. The wood might have splintered, might have pushed through her delicate little body, puncturing it like a fork into bread. No, she couldn't have survived that, and he wasn't going to look—he couldn't look into eyes that had been instructed to call him Uncle Peter.
With one final strangled sob, Peter Pettigrew Apparated away from the horrors of Snape Manor and into a dark ally on a busy London street.
* * *
Owls were already coming in, heads, already popping out of the fire in panic—the Potter's were dead, he'd been too late. Severus allowed himself a few seconds alone as the Aurors made their final report. James and Lily Potter were dead, and there was no sign of Voldemort. And Harry, poor baby Harry, the reason for all of this, could not be found. Had Voldemort taken him? No one knew.
Covering his face with his hands, Severus tried desperately not to think of the little baby boy who had played with Morganna only a month ago. He tried not to remember that he'd feed the child himself as he'd sat before both babies with a bowl of food. Then he tried not to think of Lily, her brilliant red hair floating on the wind as she sat next to Mellisson talking animatedly. He tried to forget her smile, because he knew he'd never see it again. And James, his rival from Hogwarts, they might not have ever called themselves friends, but they'd reached an understanding to hate each other in silence, and now Severus wished they'd found a way. James had been so full of life, Lily as well. He reasoned it was at least a blessing that they weren't alive to know their son was missing. He couldn't imagine the pain of that.
A sudden commotion started back in the main room, and with a sigh, he moved back into the main headquarters, ready to offer his assistance if he could. He knew they had wanted him to stay, hoping he could offer insight into where Voldemort might go with baby Harry, but a desperate need to get back to his own family had him itching to Apparate back to the estate.
As he came back into the room, he noticed only Dumbledore was talking. "- ere may be hope yet! We've just gotten word that there is crying coming from the Potter's house. It may very well be that Harry is indeed alive!" A whoop of joy filled the crowd, but Severus could only wait in silence, praying to the Goddess that just this once she'd show mercy.
It was a long five minutes for the owl report. When the large barn owl flew through the window, every conversation in the room fell silent. The magnificent bird perched itself before Dumbledore and held out its leg, which bore a note that looked surprising like it was written upon a napkin.
In silence they watched as the face of their hope fell before them, as the man so many would have followed to their deaths had to cover his own mouth in horror. Normally kind eyes closed for a long moment before he opened them again, tears threatening, and looked through the crowd at Severus Snape.
He knew in that instant, the message had nothing to do with young Harry Potter.
"Severus, the Manor…screams have been reported from Snape Manor."
For a long horrifying moment he did nothing, could not process the thing he'd just been told.
Mad-Eye Moody's hands came instantly to his shoulders and shook him violently. "Severus! Snape! Now's not the time! Hurry, I'll Apparate with you!"
Apparate where?
And then, it crashed into him with the force of a dragon's tail. Screaming from Snape Manor, screaming from the home he'd left Mellisson and Morganna in only twenty minutes ago. An owl can only fly so fast. The message must have originally gone to Ministry headquarter. That means, it could have taken nearly the full twenty minutes just to get here!
Oh goddess, Morganna!
Without another thought he Apparated, the familiar tug in every direction didn't even register in his mind. He was in the entrance way, the sound of Moody's pop drowned out by the frantic sound of his own voice.
"MELLISSON! MELLISSON!!!" He ran into the living room, hoping his wife's lack of returned call came from the fact that she had moved deeper into the house. He screamed again, his voice joined by Moody's.
A large hand spun him around. "I'll take the down stairs, you go check on your daughter!"
Not bothering to question the order, Severus tore back into the entrance way and up the staircase. He didn't stop his calling, but now changed it to his daughter's name, not the name everyone knew her as, but the name reserved only for family and close friends, as dictated by tradition.
"MORGANNA! Morganna, sweetheart can you hear me?!" He threw open the bedroom door, ran past the great velvet draped bed, and moved to the white door of the nursery.
Mellisson had wanted the nursery painted pink when she'd learned she was having a girl, but he had refused that idea, and so they'd settled on the neutral shade of white. That was his immediate thought upon seeing his wife's lifeless eyes, her body broken over that of the crib.
"…mellisson…" He watched his body move towards hers as if from somewhere other than his mind. He watched himself fall to his knees, watched his hands smooth her beautiful hair from her pale moon-glow skin. He saw himself lean down to brush his lips against hers, and saw himself shiver when he realized that her body was still warm to the touch. He saw all of this before he spoke again.
"I promised I'd come home."
"By the four gods!" Moody's voice seemed to propel Severus back into his body, seemed to entomb him so that the only thing he could see was the beautiful light blues of Mellisson's eyes. He couldn't bring himself to close them, he couldn't bear to touch her!
With a cry he dropped her body, his hands, which had been wrapped about her let go, and he recoiled, flinging himself from his kneeling position to face away from the sight of his wife for the first time since entering the room.
"Snape—" Moody didn't get a chance to finish.
Facing away from the horrific sight, Severus was now staring directly at the name of the creature who had killed his wife, his true love. The Death Eater symbol was scorched upon the wall, and seemingly burned in right behind it was the glowing letter 'V'.
Voldemort.
"I'll kill the monster myself!" Rage as never before took control of him, and he would have flown out of the room to find Voldemort if Moody had not restrained him.
"Think man! No one knows where the bastard is! There have been no sightings of him since the Potter's and that had to be after this!" Severus let out a little whimper at the reminder of Mellisson's body behind his. "Severus, Harry is gone, what about Alseeonae? What about your daughter?! Is she here, did you find her body?"
"Morganna?" His daughter. His precious, beautiful, bright, daughter. Slowly, he turned, his face coming once again towards his wife's body…crashed upon the oak crib he'd carved himself. Morganna had been in that crib right before he'd left.
"Gods below, Morganna!" He threw himself down upon he floor, shoving his wife's body aside, forgotten, as he lifted the side of the crib and searched desperately under the pink and white blankets for his daughter, all the while screaming her name.
"Morganna! Morganna! Can you hear me sweetheart? Can you hear Daddy, Morganna? Morganna!"
When he found her, the tears began to fall. Her tiny baby face was constricted in a grimace of pain so horrific he couldn't help the sobs that began to shake his entire frame.
There was blood everywhere, the white blankets by her head of matted black hair were dark brown compared to the pink surrounding them. She didn't move, when he picked her up, didn't cry when he pulled her broken body into his chest and rocked them both, calling her name as he moved to sit beside the body of his wife.
He didn't notice when Moody left him alone to guard the door, didn't notice when later Albus Apparated before him, followed closely by his mediwitch friend Poppy Pomfrey. He didn't notice when Albus pulled him up and away from Mellisson's body, didn't care when he led them from the room. Nothing mattered, but the broken body of his baby girl, clutched desperately in his arms.
When the kind Poppy tried to take the baby from him, he screamed, clutching Morganna even more tightly to his chest, crushing her already broken bones even more in his desperation to keep her close to him.
The room stopped silent when they realized that after the sound of Severus's curses ended, there was the tiny protest of a painful whimper.
None of them moved, and yet the sound continued, and Severus noticed that the sound itself was accompanied by the ever so halted and shaking movements of the tiny little baby in his arms. His sobs intensified as he pulled his arms away from his chest. Watched helplessly as his daughter's head rolled back against the palms of his hands—stopped dead in his tracks, when her tiny lip trembled and the sound came once again from her chest.
A tiny whimper.
"…morganna…"
Things happened too quickly for him to follow after that. Dumbledore was speaking, then holding him back as Poppy tried again to take Morganna from him. A quick bind spell later and Morganna and Poppy where gone, and Dumbledore was shaking him, telling him they had to Apparate to St. Mungo's now, that Morganna was alive but just barely. The next thing he knew he was waiting, his body sitting stiffly in a chair outside the operating room, his shirt and hands still covered with the blood of his one year old daughter.
Beside him, Dumbledore sat scribbling messages on pads of paper and tying one after the other to the legs of the owls that were now lined up six deep. Dumbledore had been speaking beside him, but nothing made it through the fog that inhabited his brain, his eyes flashing continuously back to the eyes of his dead wife, and the crushed limbs of his beautiful daughter.
"Severus!" A jab to his shoulder finally caught his attention, and with pain filled eyes he turned to look at his mentor and the man that had raised him after his parents deaths. "I said that I have just received word that they are still searching for Voldemort, but contacts inside the Death Eaters have said he is late returning. Also, wherever he is, he at least failed. We received word right after…you left, that Harry is indeed alive. Hagrid has him now. Severus," Dumbledore turned, taking the father's hand into his own. "Harry's still alive and so is Morganna, that means we still have a chance, there's still a way to defeat him. Voldemort will pay for what he's done, Severus, I give you my word on that!" There was a fire behind Dumbledore's eyes and Severus knew there was still hope, but under the circumstances, he didn't dare wish for anything besides his daughter's full recovery.
His reply stated that fact very clearly. "She's so tiny, Albus. She's always been so tiny. I kept thinking she should eat more, but Mellisson would just chastise me and tell me Morganna was fine. But she was so small. Do you remember when she was born, when Mellisson went into labor two months early? She was so tiny then, she fit right into the palm of my hands." He demonstrated, holding his hands out before him, his eyes and voice vacant. "I didn't think anything could be so tiny." He trailed off, the sobs once again racking his body.
Twelve hours later, Poppy Pomfrey came out from behind the operating room doors. Severus stood, his whole body shaking as he searched her face for his daughter's fate.
Poppy smiled. "She's alive. The little thing just wasn't planning on giving up. She's got herself one broken arm and wrist, a fractured collar bone, five broken or cracked ribs, and some of her intestines had to be removed because one of the crib bars punctured her abdomen. But she's resting, and the best mediwitches are in there right now. Alseeonae's going to be fine, Mr. Snape, she's going to make it."
Before he could react to stop it, his legs gave out from under him, and he sank to the floor, weeping tears of relief and pain as only a man who had lost his wife and nearly his daughter in one night could understand.
Later, when Severus was permitted to see his daughter, Poppy kept Albus from following.
"What's wrong my dear?" His voice was pained as he watched his protegee move beyond the swinging door.
For a moment the witch hesitated before barreling forward. "The little one's had Cruciatus cast on her, her muscles were so tight already that when her—the crib crashed onto her it was like oak crashing against steel." He gasped at the very notion that anyone would cast an unforgivable on a helpless baby. "That's not the worst of it, Albus." She drew a breath. "On her right hip, just below the waist…it's the dark mark, Albus, that horrible monster marked her before he tried to kill her!"
"Dear gods, Alseeonae bears the Dark Mark?" Poppy nodded. "Then Voldemort really did know what she was—is! You were right, my dear Poppy, he truly is a monster."
* * *
"I fear, for the safety of every single one of us, the Minister is correct."
"You can't really mean that, Albus! She and Harry are just children!"
"I am sorry, Minerva, I sympathize with you on this point more than you know. I think of both Harry and Alseeonae as my own grandchildren. But the fact remains that for their safety they cannot stay in the magical world."
It was a council meeting of the most secret society in the Ministry of Magic. Around the table, spies and dignitaries sat, strategizing again now that they knew for certain Voldemort was still alive. It had been nearly six months since that fateful day that James, Lily, Mellisson, and twelve muggles had been killed all in the name of Voldemort. Harry had long since been moved into the muggle world, but it was now time to decide how best to protect Alseeonae Morganna Snape, and the answer was not what anyone wanted to hear.
"I must insist—"
"No. You will not." Severus Snape was a thin man now, and his mysterious good looks had been reduced to those of a broken and haggard man. His hair hung limp and lifeless down half his back, and his sunken eyes made him look half dead in his nearly gray skin. His clothing hung from him, the material tattered and torn; so unlike the meticulous and nearly vain dresser they'd all known before Voldemort's seeming defeat.
"Morganna cannot stay here. The Death Eaters know what she is. They know, which is why they tried to kill her in the first place; why they killed…Mellisson to get to her. But they don't know she's alive, Minerva, only those in this room know Harry Potter's Fatemuse is alive, and it's going to stay that way.
"I can't just disappear to take her either. After my trial and Albus's rescue, I'll go to Hogwarts and teach as I was before. But I cannot bring my daughter with me, I cannot allow anyone to know that Morganna is alive!" He paused, his fists clenching, his jagged nails drawing blood from his palm. "They'll stop at nothing to kill her if they can because everyone knows Harry Potter lives, and the Death Eaters suspect so too does Voldemort. Morganna is the key to bringing down Voldemort in the future, she is the one that will awaken the winged lion and we cannot ever forget that!" He slammed his fist to the table in frustration, in hatred of himself for bring a life into this world that he could not protect.
"Severus, I'm so sorry—"
"It destroys me to know that Morganna must never know who I am! She must never know her father is Severus Snape, because if she does, if the Death Eater's figure it out, they'll kill her before I can stop them. I cannot stop them! I can't protect Morganna anymore than I could protect Mellisson!" His fists hit the table once again, the pain sending jolts up his arms and down his spine.
Drawing a claming breath, he collected himself. "Albus has arranged for Morganna to be fostered to Arabella Figg in America. She'll grow up just like any other witch. She'll have family and friends, she'll be happy…" He trailed off, his voice catching in the thickness of his throat.
"For cause of my cover, it was always believed that I had an illegitimate brother in America on my father's side. So that's who she'll be, Morganna Michaels. She'll become my 'brother's' daughter, who was killed in a horrible automobile accident. Arabella will be her mother's sister and guardian, and I will be her uncle. Her uncle. I'll still know her…I'll still know my baby girl…"
If he had any reservations about sobbing in front of others, he had lost them months ago, watching Morganna cry relentlessly as her baby bones healed without the aid of magic. His heart was broken, shattered as he realized that even though he didn't want to believe his own words, he had no choice. For their safety, for Morganna and Harry, for all the world to be safe, beautiful Alseeonae Morganna Snape, with eyes like her mother's, would never be allowed to know that he was the one who had woken up every two hours to feed her as an infant. She'd never know the truth, and everything in that statement threatened to undo him.
Distantly, he heard Dumbledore offer to make the arrangements to which he nodded. He heard the words of comfort as well; that she'd still know him, that she'd still be a part of his life, if not always there, until he stood and fled from the room.
Mellisson had died and his daughter was to be sent away.
"I kept my promise, my love, I will protect our daughter, no matter what the cost."
He broke down in the hallway.
* * *
"Severus," said Dumbledore, turning to Snape, "you know what I must ask you to do. If you are ready…if you are prepared…"
"I am," said Snape.
He looked slightly paler than usual, and his cold, black eyes glittered strangely.
"Then good luck," said Dumbledore, and he watched, with a trace of apprehension on his face, as Snape swept wordlessly after Sirius.
(Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire)
In the hallway he cast a quick Location charm before Apparating to the signature he knew without conscious thought.
When Severus reappeared, it was in the middle of an extremely well lit stage, a stadium of thousands of teenage boys and girls screaming before him. The sound of some sugary-pop song playing loudly over the speakers as the band hit cords behind him was being televised on an enormous set of viewing screens to his left and right. The images from the stage showed clearly the shock on his face at Apparating into such a public place. Silently he cursed himself for being so foolish as to forget to check the location he was Apparating too. A flash from the board caught his attention as he heard the band slowly begin to die off from shock at his appearance, it was the name of the singer currently crooning beautifully before him, the title read, Mellisson.
In front of him, the girl singing was just starting to notice the band had stalled. Her waist long black hair hung in a thick sheet down her back, as long legs showing far too much skin, extended from a black mini skirt. He saw the glint of silver jewelry against the delicate looking wrist that had never fully recovered from the brake during her first year of life. His eyes caught a hold of one particular bracelet, noting with a heavy heart that it had been the first gift he'd given Mellisson on her sixteenth birthday.
He watched in slow motion as a group of men started from the side of the stage, their intent clearly written on their outstretched and ready to pounce arms. He ignored them after a brief look, his attention refocusing on the fifteen-year-old girl slowly revolving towards him.
He saw the line of her shoulders and hip shift and his immediate thought was that she was too thin. What was it with Americans and needing their women to look like boys. He decided Arabella hadn't been feeding her properly, letting her get away with skipping meals or worse, he'd remedy that shortly. He ignored the obvious medical reason of her childhood injury, focusing instead on someone he could yell at.
Next he noticed the peaks of her breasts, over emphasized by the white cups of the laced up corset top, covered only partially by a sheer black shirt with rhinestone written 'Goddess' down the sleeve. Oh those was getting burned the moment they found there way into the laundry!
Her stomach was taunt, and he knew she prided herself on the two hundred sit-up she did every day to keep it that way. He grimaced at the shine of some stone or other glittering from her bellybutton, but knew he'd grudgingly given her permission for the trinket only weeks ago for her fifteenth birthday.
And then her face came into view. She was gorgeous. Her chin was round but well defined, as were her cheekbones. Her lips were full--and even though no one knew it because of the Featura Obscurra spell he'd cast daily on himself since her move to America--she had his full and sensuous lips.
Dark bangs curled just slightly over her well proportioned forehead and just barely touched the tops of her dark well shaped eyebrows. Her nose was straight, but not overly large, it was a nose of dignity and wealth, and he was glad to know she'd inherited it from Mellisson.
Her blue/white eyes were as he remembered them, empty voids to be lost in if stared at for too long. But now they were over emphasized by the dark Kohl lines she'd drawn around her eyes.
She was wearing far too much make-up for a fifteen-year-old, he thought. Her lips, which were just now parting into a wide smile of recognition—showing off her brilliantly straight teeth—were far too red, too dark for a fifteen year old. Her cheeks, rosy from the horribly hot lights and the exertion of her boisterous dance movements, were redder then they should have been; she was wearing rouge too!
They were definitely going to talk about this!
His eyes locked with hers, and he noticed before he could react, that she'd spent the time he'd evaluated her appearance to start her flight. She was already half way to the arms he found were already stretched out to receive her.
"UNCLE SEVERUS!!!"
"No, Severus! Sirius would never betray Lily and James!" Mellisson Snape tore around the corner after her husband, her waist long white hair trailing behind her lithe form. "Sirius would never turn to Voldemort!"
In one smooth movement, Severus Snape, double agent spy for Albus Dumbledore, rounded on his wife, bringing his hands to grip her shoulders painfully. In the background of the storm, he heard his one-year-old daughter begin to cry. "Mellisson, this is not some game, and no matter how much you wish it otherwise, what I have said is true, it's already done in fact. Sirius has betrayed Lily, and Voldemort even now is preparing to go after Harry! Mellisson," he shook her harder than he had intended. "If I do not warn them, they will die! Voldemort will stop at nothing to kill Potter, you know that! He'll stop at nothing to kill Harry, to kill Lily's son!"
Her heart racing, her shoulders aching under his crushing grip, Mellisson looked deep into her husband's eyes and saw the truth. Desperate hands sought purchase on something, and they moved up to grip the deceptively strong biceps of her twenty year old husband, her shaking hands just inches from his shoulder length, jet black hair. "Severus—"
At the terror in her voice, Severus pulled his wife into his arms, crushing her to his chest, holding onto her for all that he was.
"Severus, that murder cannot kill Harry. L-Lily would never recover." Her voice was quite now, whispers against his chest as she searched out his embrace for something to take the terror away.
"Lily might not have the chance. Listen to me Mellisson!" He pushed her from him roughly, his deep black eyes penetrating into her pale blue ones, so much like the color of her animagus form. "I know we have not always agreed on my role in this war, and when I am finished you and I and Morganna will be little better than the Potters. We'll need to leave, to go into hiding. Once I warn James, Voldemort will know who I'm really working for, who I've been working for since the beginning!
"Gather everything you can; leave nothing you'll regret not having later. We'll never make it back to this house while it's in any semblance of shape. Voldemort will come here to kill me as soon as he realizes that James isn't where Black told him. Get Morganna and all her things, be ready when I get back!"
He pulled away then, ready to Apparate, when her desperate hands clutched the sleeves of his black robe. "Severus, where will you go?! You don't even know where James and Lily are, no one knows except Sirius and now Voldemort, that's the idea of a Secret Keeper! How will you warn them?!"
Turning back to her, he spared her no smile, only the harsh sting of his cold voice. "Dumbledore, I'll go to him. There isn't anything that goes on with Harry that he isn't a part of." He turned again to Apparate, but this time when Mellisson wrapped her arms about his left one and held on for all her might, he understood.
Again he took her into his arms, nuzzling his nose into her hair and breathing deeply of her scent. She was a mixture of the snow, of cold winter days by a frozen lake, and she was Madam J's Baby Powder, in a smell that reminded him his daughter was still crying in the baby room. He held her close for as long as he could, far longer than he should have under the circumstances.
Eventually he couldn't wait any longer. Pulling back he leaned down, kissing the woman he'd promised to love for the rest of his life—far longer ago than the day they were married. Her mouth was desperate to possess his, to hold onto him for just one moment longer, and as the kiss itself deepened, he crushed her body to his, running his fingers up into the glorious silk of her beautiful white, blond hair.
When not even air could be denied, he pulled back, breathing deeply, the feel of her breasts heaving through the fabric of their robes. His hands moved from her back to encompass her face, bringing her eyes up to meet his. "I always knew there was a possibility that Voldemort would find us—"
She interrupted him, the cold steel of her eyes flashing in a moment of indignant anger. "I knew what I was getting into when I married you! You know how much I hate it—especially after Morganna was born. But I understand why you're doing it, I've always understood. While everyone else in the world thinks Severus Snape is Death Eater scum, I knew you were five times braver than the great Auror James Potter! But I knew you're deception would one day find you, find us! I knew and now I'm ready for it!" She pulled him down by his neck, pressing her lips hard against his, forcing them both into a kiss that they knew was for good-bye as she prepared to let him go to Dumbledore.
She pushed him away from her, and he knew at least part of that act was so she didn't cling to him again. "Go, Severus. I'll get Morganna and all of our things together. I'll be ready by the time you get back." He nodded, turning to go when she called out to him. "Severus, just promise me one thing."
He closed his eyes briefly, knowing few promises could be made under such circumstances. "Anything, my love."
"Promise me no matter what else, you'll take care of yourself, and you'll take care of Morganna. Promise me, Severus!" A note of desperation entered her voice and he felt the call to comfort her so strong he had to turn away.
"I swear it to you, Mellisson. I will come back for you and Morganna, and I will never let any harm, from Voldemort or anyone else, come to our daughter."
Behind him came only silence. Knowing haste should have already propelled him into Dumbledore's office but that he could leave now without seeing her, Severus turned, bounding up the massive stairs in the entrance way—the sound of his wife's navy blue robes right behind him. At the top he turned to the right, barreling down the hallway until he came to the last door and threw it open. He walked through their bedroom, the massive oak canopy bed draped in velvet barely catching his notice. One more door was pulled aside, and there she was, short black hair and pale blue eyes staring back at him from tear stained cheeks as she stood supported against the hand carved crib wall.
She was the most precious thing in his life, his miracle. Not a day passed when he didn't wonder how Mellisson had seen through his cold personality to find a man she's willingly make a father. Morganna's tiny hands reached out for him, and in three quick strides he had her from the crib and in his arms, cooing to her softly, doing his best to sooth her. He watched as Mellisson moved to begin her packing in this room.
Lowering the pitch of his voice, he talked soothingly to his daughter, wasting valuable time in this one last selfish act. "Morganna, shhhh. It's going to be alright. Daddy's going to find us all a nice new place to live. When I get back, you, me and mummy are all going to a brand new place. And would you like to know what else? I bet Harry will get to come and visit you! Yes, I bet he will! And aunt Lily and," he looked over to catch his wife's smiling face, and gave an only slightly mocking scowl. "And Uncle James too. Mummy's going to be packing a lot of things, so you watch her use her wand for a little while so you can grow up to be a great witch just like Mummy, OK?" He lifted her so he could see her face, see the brightness of her eyes, the softness of her skin, and the red marks on her cheeks from her past tears. But she was smiling now, reaching her hands out to touch his just slightly too large nose. She caught it and held on.
Smiling, he turned to his wife, his voice nasally from her grip. "You know, she gets that from you."
Mellisson shrugged. "It's sometimes the only way to shut you up." Now she reached out for Morganna, and with one last kiss to her warm cheek, he passed her over. "Hurry, Severus, whatever I don't have time to pack we don't need."
"Money is not a concern, Mellisson, remember that. Take only the sentimental things, only things galleons can't buy, we'll replace the rest later." She nodded, tears in her eyes which she fought desperately not to allow to fall. His hand came immediately to her cheek, his other to the back of Morganna's head. "I have never once broken a promise to you, Mellisson. I will return for the both of you." She nodded again, and with nothing more to say, he stepped back and Apparated to Dumbledore.
Finally allowing the tears to fall, Mellisson shifted her only child to her hip and swiped desperately at her cheeks for the falling moisture. When she looked back, it was into the studying eyes of her one-year-old daughter.
"Morganna, Mummy thinks Daddy's wrong, you might have my eyes, but you certainly have Daddy's look." Sweeping her daughter back into the crib, she moved once more about the room, shrinking those momentos she could not live without, and worrying constantly for her husband and her best friend Lily.
Around her the great castle that was home to every master of the Snape bloodline since man first began to call themselves wizards, was silent, the only sounds coming from the plastic toys that Lily had insisted all babies needed. Morganna played happily with the wobbly little men that bounced back no matter how hard she pushed them. Mellisson couldn't help but stop to watch her daughter at play in a moment of wasted time.
She remembered the shocked expression on Severus's face when she finally worked up the courage to tell the reluctant man that he was going to be a father. He hadn't really wanted children, especially because of his role as a double agent, and secretly because of the abuse he feared he'd pass on from his own upbringing. But the pregnancy had been unplanned, and she had been so happy. She recalled her voice had shook as she told him, already having brought his hand to rest lightly against her belly. And his eyes, his eyes always told the truth of him if only one looked hard enough, those had been filled with so much apprehension, and yet, a joy so profound she had never once seen its like.
Sighing, Mellisson moved from the nursery to the master bedroom. More time conscious now that she was away from her daughter, the longhaired woman flew into action. Drawers were pulled open, clothing rummaged through. The basic necessities were gather, but she understood Severus's words. When Dumbledore found them a safe house, there would be plenty of money to replace the material possessions they would lose.
She raced to the closet, quickly shrinking her handfasting dress, and on impulse both Severus and her old Hogwarts' robes. Shoes were quickly reduced and the now miniature articles were thrown into an old shoe box. She took nothing of the jewelry she'd been given as her right as Severus's wife, instead taking only the few pieces he'd given her since their courtship and marriage.
She called back to Morganna that she'd be right back and then tore across the room to the door. Racing down the hallway, she stopped to consider taking some of the more beautiful antiques, but quickly moved on. Severus had not wanted them to live in this house, surrounded by things that reminded him of his parents. Only his need to keep up bloodline appearances for the Death Eaters had caused him to come back here. She recalled how he had adamantly refused to have them spend their first night in his parent's old bed, now vacant since their deaths five years ago. She'd come from a very poor family, but had petitioned her parents to indulge her one expensive thing. The bed had been their handfasting present to the new couple.
Bypassing article after article, she moved quickly down the stairs; their wedding and picture albums were in the family room at the back of the house.
At the bottom of the stairs, she whipped around the corner and slammed into someone very large and very short.
Crying out, she stepped back, and before her very eyes was none other than Peter Pettigrew, his eyes somewhat cold, but mostly nervous.
"Hello, Mellisson."
And she knew! Knew like she just sometimes knew things, like her daughter would one day know as well--it wasn't Sirius who betrayed the Potters, it was Peter. With a cry she pulled her wand from her robes and pointed it at his chest. Peter had always been slower than the rest, but he'd already had his wand out. With one word, Mellisson's wand flew from her hands and into Peter's. But the fool looked up to catch it, and during that quick time of distraction, Mellisson turned and ran for the stairs.
Heart beating wildly, she pushed her muscles to carry her terrified form up the staircase that suddenly had far too many stairs. Panicking, desperate to reach her daughter, to protect Morganna, her foot caught in her floor length velvet robes and she fell in the middle. It was enough time. With a call from Peter, she felt the unforgivable Cruciatus curse race into every fiber of her body. Every muscle, every cell, constricted, while at the same time, her insides seemed to expand, the duality causing more torture to the body than even Morganna's birth.
She screamed, terror racing with the cramps that accompanied the curse. She wanted to die, wanted at that moment to beg for death, but something inside her told her she could not. She had to fight, she had no choice, Peter Pettigrew the traitor was here, and he was going to kill her daughter.
How she managed it she'd never know. In the full grip of the Cruciatus curse, she managed to begin a slow but deliberate crawl up the stairs. She knew why he was here, knew that Voldemort had learned of Severus's betrayal, and knew, without doubt, that Voldemort had finally figured out just who Alseeonae Morganna Snape was.
Behind her convulsing form, Peter swore, and at the rustle of his robes, she knew he was preparing to cast the curse again. She didn't know what to do, didn't know how she was going to get her daughter away from this man, this traitor to both herself and Lily.
A brilliant flash of inspiration hit her, and with all the acting skills she'd used as a Death Eater's wife, she gave a cry, a moan, and then crumpled to the stairs, hoping to buy herself some time to recover from the after effects of the curse. It worked beautifully, behind her Peter drew a great sigh, and then moved around her body, up the stairs and down the hallway. He was going to hurt Morganna!
She willed her body to recover faster, wishing desperately that she had a bit of chocolate to ease the pain. Resigned to the fact that she had nothing, she waited in terror as she heard her bedroom door close.
Now, more afraid then ever that Pettigrew was only yards from her only child, Mellisson stood, resisting the call of her body to just lay down, to rest a little longer. She used her arms to pull herself up the stairs, one step after another sending jolts of pain to her brain that she refused to notice.
At the top of the stairs, she heard the most terrifying sound she had ever heard, a sound that reached into her chest and threatened to shred her soul—the sound of her baby screaming under the Cruciatus curse.
Not stopping to consider, not giving a single notice to the long forgotten pain of her muscles, Mellisson raced down the hallway, the pain filled screams of Morganna filling her ears until she could hear nothing else, see nothing else but the sound of her daughter's cries.
She didn't stop in her bedroom, only bounded into the nursery and tackled Pettigrew, not baring to look at the arching form of a baby that had not yet even taken her first step. Her hands balled into fists just as Sirius Black had once shown her and Lily on the grass by the lake at Hogwarts. She rained blow after blow to the face of the man that would dare harm a child—her child!
Mellisson never even heard him approach the nursery door. "Mellisson, your husband has been a very, very, bad man." She felt Cruciatus slam into her again as her eyes turned and locked on Lucius Malfoy's.
Convulsing and crying out, she remembered clearly the moment Morganna's cries stopped, remembered the seconds of her own painfully spasming body in terms of the time it would take for Morganna to cry out in fear of past pain and the strangers. But the cry didn't come, and suddenly, Mellisson knew, her baby was dead.
Not Cruciatus, not Pettigrew, not even Lucius could stop her. Racked with pain she again ignored, Mellisson stood, stumbling to the crib to look down at the pain etched face of her baby girl. Turning, to face the murders, her hands into claws, she took a step towards the small shaking man, and the cold calculating one.
"Avada Kedavra." Came the coldness of old money and superiority.
The light left Malfoy's outstretched wand, and slammed into Mellisson's poised body. The force pushed the now dead body back, slamming it into the crib, sending both mother and daughter under the debree of the now crushed masterpiece.
Nothing from the crib moved.
With a cool smile Malfoy turned, indicating the mess on his way out the door. "Make sure Alseeonae is dead." Then, to himself, "Poor, poor Severus Snape, what good is Harry Potter's Fatemuse if she's dead?" He stopped by the wall next to the nursery door, and with a wave of his wand, carved the mark of Voldemort before Apparating.
Pettigrew turned, his terrified eyes looking down into those lifeless blue ones that had once called him friend. The way she'd fallen, the way her body had slammed into the crib, the baby, the little girl with jet black hair that had been instructed to call him Uncle Peter was crushed by the wood of the crib and her mother's body.
Shaking, Pettigrew moved to shove Mellisson's body away to check the child, the little girl with jet black hair so much like her father's, eyes a nearly white blue color, so much like her mother's…which now stared up at him accusingly.
He pulled his hand back as if he'd been hit with a repelling charm. There was no way Alseeonae could have survived both the Cruciatus curse and the slamming weight of oak wood and her mother's body. The wood might have splintered, might have pushed through her delicate little body, puncturing it like a fork into bread. No, she couldn't have survived that, and he wasn't going to look—he couldn't look into eyes that had been instructed to call him Uncle Peter.
With one final strangled sob, Peter Pettigrew Apparated away from the horrors of Snape Manor and into a dark ally on a busy London street.
* * *
Owls were already coming in, heads, already popping out of the fire in panic—the Potter's were dead, he'd been too late. Severus allowed himself a few seconds alone as the Aurors made their final report. James and Lily Potter were dead, and there was no sign of Voldemort. And Harry, poor baby Harry, the reason for all of this, could not be found. Had Voldemort taken him? No one knew.
Covering his face with his hands, Severus tried desperately not to think of the little baby boy who had played with Morganna only a month ago. He tried not to remember that he'd feed the child himself as he'd sat before both babies with a bowl of food. Then he tried not to think of Lily, her brilliant red hair floating on the wind as she sat next to Mellisson talking animatedly. He tried to forget her smile, because he knew he'd never see it again. And James, his rival from Hogwarts, they might not have ever called themselves friends, but they'd reached an understanding to hate each other in silence, and now Severus wished they'd found a way. James had been so full of life, Lily as well. He reasoned it was at least a blessing that they weren't alive to know their son was missing. He couldn't imagine the pain of that.
A sudden commotion started back in the main room, and with a sigh, he moved back into the main headquarters, ready to offer his assistance if he could. He knew they had wanted him to stay, hoping he could offer insight into where Voldemort might go with baby Harry, but a desperate need to get back to his own family had him itching to Apparate back to the estate.
As he came back into the room, he noticed only Dumbledore was talking. "- ere may be hope yet! We've just gotten word that there is crying coming from the Potter's house. It may very well be that Harry is indeed alive!" A whoop of joy filled the crowd, but Severus could only wait in silence, praying to the Goddess that just this once she'd show mercy.
It was a long five minutes for the owl report. When the large barn owl flew through the window, every conversation in the room fell silent. The magnificent bird perched itself before Dumbledore and held out its leg, which bore a note that looked surprising like it was written upon a napkin.
In silence they watched as the face of their hope fell before them, as the man so many would have followed to their deaths had to cover his own mouth in horror. Normally kind eyes closed for a long moment before he opened them again, tears threatening, and looked through the crowd at Severus Snape.
He knew in that instant, the message had nothing to do with young Harry Potter.
"Severus, the Manor…screams have been reported from Snape Manor."
For a long horrifying moment he did nothing, could not process the thing he'd just been told.
Mad-Eye Moody's hands came instantly to his shoulders and shook him violently. "Severus! Snape! Now's not the time! Hurry, I'll Apparate with you!"
Apparate where?
And then, it crashed into him with the force of a dragon's tail. Screaming from Snape Manor, screaming from the home he'd left Mellisson and Morganna in only twenty minutes ago. An owl can only fly so fast. The message must have originally gone to Ministry headquarter. That means, it could have taken nearly the full twenty minutes just to get here!
Oh goddess, Morganna!
Without another thought he Apparated, the familiar tug in every direction didn't even register in his mind. He was in the entrance way, the sound of Moody's pop drowned out by the frantic sound of his own voice.
"MELLISSON! MELLISSON!!!" He ran into the living room, hoping his wife's lack of returned call came from the fact that she had moved deeper into the house. He screamed again, his voice joined by Moody's.
A large hand spun him around. "I'll take the down stairs, you go check on your daughter!"
Not bothering to question the order, Severus tore back into the entrance way and up the staircase. He didn't stop his calling, but now changed it to his daughter's name, not the name everyone knew her as, but the name reserved only for family and close friends, as dictated by tradition.
"MORGANNA! Morganna, sweetheart can you hear me?!" He threw open the bedroom door, ran past the great velvet draped bed, and moved to the white door of the nursery.
Mellisson had wanted the nursery painted pink when she'd learned she was having a girl, but he had refused that idea, and so they'd settled on the neutral shade of white. That was his immediate thought upon seeing his wife's lifeless eyes, her body broken over that of the crib.
"…mellisson…" He watched his body move towards hers as if from somewhere other than his mind. He watched himself fall to his knees, watched his hands smooth her beautiful hair from her pale moon-glow skin. He saw himself lean down to brush his lips against hers, and saw himself shiver when he realized that her body was still warm to the touch. He saw all of this before he spoke again.
"I promised I'd come home."
"By the four gods!" Moody's voice seemed to propel Severus back into his body, seemed to entomb him so that the only thing he could see was the beautiful light blues of Mellisson's eyes. He couldn't bring himself to close them, he couldn't bear to touch her!
With a cry he dropped her body, his hands, which had been wrapped about her let go, and he recoiled, flinging himself from his kneeling position to face away from the sight of his wife for the first time since entering the room.
"Snape—" Moody didn't get a chance to finish.
Facing away from the horrific sight, Severus was now staring directly at the name of the creature who had killed his wife, his true love. The Death Eater symbol was scorched upon the wall, and seemingly burned in right behind it was the glowing letter 'V'.
Voldemort.
"I'll kill the monster myself!" Rage as never before took control of him, and he would have flown out of the room to find Voldemort if Moody had not restrained him.
"Think man! No one knows where the bastard is! There have been no sightings of him since the Potter's and that had to be after this!" Severus let out a little whimper at the reminder of Mellisson's body behind his. "Severus, Harry is gone, what about Alseeonae? What about your daughter?! Is she here, did you find her body?"
"Morganna?" His daughter. His precious, beautiful, bright, daughter. Slowly, he turned, his face coming once again towards his wife's body…crashed upon the oak crib he'd carved himself. Morganna had been in that crib right before he'd left.
"Gods below, Morganna!" He threw himself down upon he floor, shoving his wife's body aside, forgotten, as he lifted the side of the crib and searched desperately under the pink and white blankets for his daughter, all the while screaming her name.
"Morganna! Morganna! Can you hear me sweetheart? Can you hear Daddy, Morganna? Morganna!"
When he found her, the tears began to fall. Her tiny baby face was constricted in a grimace of pain so horrific he couldn't help the sobs that began to shake his entire frame.
There was blood everywhere, the white blankets by her head of matted black hair were dark brown compared to the pink surrounding them. She didn't move, when he picked her up, didn't cry when he pulled her broken body into his chest and rocked them both, calling her name as he moved to sit beside the body of his wife.
He didn't notice when Moody left him alone to guard the door, didn't notice when later Albus Apparated before him, followed closely by his mediwitch friend Poppy Pomfrey. He didn't notice when Albus pulled him up and away from Mellisson's body, didn't care when he led them from the room. Nothing mattered, but the broken body of his baby girl, clutched desperately in his arms.
When the kind Poppy tried to take the baby from him, he screamed, clutching Morganna even more tightly to his chest, crushing her already broken bones even more in his desperation to keep her close to him.
The room stopped silent when they realized that after the sound of Severus's curses ended, there was the tiny protest of a painful whimper.
None of them moved, and yet the sound continued, and Severus noticed that the sound itself was accompanied by the ever so halted and shaking movements of the tiny little baby in his arms. His sobs intensified as he pulled his arms away from his chest. Watched helplessly as his daughter's head rolled back against the palms of his hands—stopped dead in his tracks, when her tiny lip trembled and the sound came once again from her chest.
A tiny whimper.
"…morganna…"
Things happened too quickly for him to follow after that. Dumbledore was speaking, then holding him back as Poppy tried again to take Morganna from him. A quick bind spell later and Morganna and Poppy where gone, and Dumbledore was shaking him, telling him they had to Apparate to St. Mungo's now, that Morganna was alive but just barely. The next thing he knew he was waiting, his body sitting stiffly in a chair outside the operating room, his shirt and hands still covered with the blood of his one year old daughter.
Beside him, Dumbledore sat scribbling messages on pads of paper and tying one after the other to the legs of the owls that were now lined up six deep. Dumbledore had been speaking beside him, but nothing made it through the fog that inhabited his brain, his eyes flashing continuously back to the eyes of his dead wife, and the crushed limbs of his beautiful daughter.
"Severus!" A jab to his shoulder finally caught his attention, and with pain filled eyes he turned to look at his mentor and the man that had raised him after his parents deaths. "I said that I have just received word that they are still searching for Voldemort, but contacts inside the Death Eaters have said he is late returning. Also, wherever he is, he at least failed. We received word right after…you left, that Harry is indeed alive. Hagrid has him now. Severus," Dumbledore turned, taking the father's hand into his own. "Harry's still alive and so is Morganna, that means we still have a chance, there's still a way to defeat him. Voldemort will pay for what he's done, Severus, I give you my word on that!" There was a fire behind Dumbledore's eyes and Severus knew there was still hope, but under the circumstances, he didn't dare wish for anything besides his daughter's full recovery.
His reply stated that fact very clearly. "She's so tiny, Albus. She's always been so tiny. I kept thinking she should eat more, but Mellisson would just chastise me and tell me Morganna was fine. But she was so small. Do you remember when she was born, when Mellisson went into labor two months early? She was so tiny then, she fit right into the palm of my hands." He demonstrated, holding his hands out before him, his eyes and voice vacant. "I didn't think anything could be so tiny." He trailed off, the sobs once again racking his body.
Twelve hours later, Poppy Pomfrey came out from behind the operating room doors. Severus stood, his whole body shaking as he searched her face for his daughter's fate.
Poppy smiled. "She's alive. The little thing just wasn't planning on giving up. She's got herself one broken arm and wrist, a fractured collar bone, five broken or cracked ribs, and some of her intestines had to be removed because one of the crib bars punctured her abdomen. But she's resting, and the best mediwitches are in there right now. Alseeonae's going to be fine, Mr. Snape, she's going to make it."
Before he could react to stop it, his legs gave out from under him, and he sank to the floor, weeping tears of relief and pain as only a man who had lost his wife and nearly his daughter in one night could understand.
Later, when Severus was permitted to see his daughter, Poppy kept Albus from following.
"What's wrong my dear?" His voice was pained as he watched his protegee move beyond the swinging door.
For a moment the witch hesitated before barreling forward. "The little one's had Cruciatus cast on her, her muscles were so tight already that when her—the crib crashed onto her it was like oak crashing against steel." He gasped at the very notion that anyone would cast an unforgivable on a helpless baby. "That's not the worst of it, Albus." She drew a breath. "On her right hip, just below the waist…it's the dark mark, Albus, that horrible monster marked her before he tried to kill her!"
"Dear gods, Alseeonae bears the Dark Mark?" Poppy nodded. "Then Voldemort really did know what she was—is! You were right, my dear Poppy, he truly is a monster."
* * *
"I fear, for the safety of every single one of us, the Minister is correct."
"You can't really mean that, Albus! She and Harry are just children!"
"I am sorry, Minerva, I sympathize with you on this point more than you know. I think of both Harry and Alseeonae as my own grandchildren. But the fact remains that for their safety they cannot stay in the magical world."
It was a council meeting of the most secret society in the Ministry of Magic. Around the table, spies and dignitaries sat, strategizing again now that they knew for certain Voldemort was still alive. It had been nearly six months since that fateful day that James, Lily, Mellisson, and twelve muggles had been killed all in the name of Voldemort. Harry had long since been moved into the muggle world, but it was now time to decide how best to protect Alseeonae Morganna Snape, and the answer was not what anyone wanted to hear.
"I must insist—"
"No. You will not." Severus Snape was a thin man now, and his mysterious good looks had been reduced to those of a broken and haggard man. His hair hung limp and lifeless down half his back, and his sunken eyes made him look half dead in his nearly gray skin. His clothing hung from him, the material tattered and torn; so unlike the meticulous and nearly vain dresser they'd all known before Voldemort's seeming defeat.
"Morganna cannot stay here. The Death Eaters know what she is. They know, which is why they tried to kill her in the first place; why they killed…Mellisson to get to her. But they don't know she's alive, Minerva, only those in this room know Harry Potter's Fatemuse is alive, and it's going to stay that way.
"I can't just disappear to take her either. After my trial and Albus's rescue, I'll go to Hogwarts and teach as I was before. But I cannot bring my daughter with me, I cannot allow anyone to know that Morganna is alive!" He paused, his fists clenching, his jagged nails drawing blood from his palm. "They'll stop at nothing to kill her if they can because everyone knows Harry Potter lives, and the Death Eaters suspect so too does Voldemort. Morganna is the key to bringing down Voldemort in the future, she is the one that will awaken the winged lion and we cannot ever forget that!" He slammed his fist to the table in frustration, in hatred of himself for bring a life into this world that he could not protect.
"Severus, I'm so sorry—"
"It destroys me to know that Morganna must never know who I am! She must never know her father is Severus Snape, because if she does, if the Death Eater's figure it out, they'll kill her before I can stop them. I cannot stop them! I can't protect Morganna anymore than I could protect Mellisson!" His fists hit the table once again, the pain sending jolts up his arms and down his spine.
Drawing a claming breath, he collected himself. "Albus has arranged for Morganna to be fostered to Arabella Figg in America. She'll grow up just like any other witch. She'll have family and friends, she'll be happy…" He trailed off, his voice catching in the thickness of his throat.
"For cause of my cover, it was always believed that I had an illegitimate brother in America on my father's side. So that's who she'll be, Morganna Michaels. She'll become my 'brother's' daughter, who was killed in a horrible automobile accident. Arabella will be her mother's sister and guardian, and I will be her uncle. Her uncle. I'll still know her…I'll still know my baby girl…"
If he had any reservations about sobbing in front of others, he had lost them months ago, watching Morganna cry relentlessly as her baby bones healed without the aid of magic. His heart was broken, shattered as he realized that even though he didn't want to believe his own words, he had no choice. For their safety, for Morganna and Harry, for all the world to be safe, beautiful Alseeonae Morganna Snape, with eyes like her mother's, would never be allowed to know that he was the one who had woken up every two hours to feed her as an infant. She'd never know the truth, and everything in that statement threatened to undo him.
Distantly, he heard Dumbledore offer to make the arrangements to which he nodded. He heard the words of comfort as well; that she'd still know him, that she'd still be a part of his life, if not always there, until he stood and fled from the room.
Mellisson had died and his daughter was to be sent away.
"I kept my promise, my love, I will protect our daughter, no matter what the cost."
He broke down in the hallway.
* * *
"Severus," said Dumbledore, turning to Snape, "you know what I must ask you to do. If you are ready…if you are prepared…"
"I am," said Snape.
He looked slightly paler than usual, and his cold, black eyes glittered strangely.
"Then good luck," said Dumbledore, and he watched, with a trace of apprehension on his face, as Snape swept wordlessly after Sirius.
(Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire)
In the hallway he cast a quick Location charm before Apparating to the signature he knew without conscious thought.
When Severus reappeared, it was in the middle of an extremely well lit stage, a stadium of thousands of teenage boys and girls screaming before him. The sound of some sugary-pop song playing loudly over the speakers as the band hit cords behind him was being televised on an enormous set of viewing screens to his left and right. The images from the stage showed clearly the shock on his face at Apparating into such a public place. Silently he cursed himself for being so foolish as to forget to check the location he was Apparating too. A flash from the board caught his attention as he heard the band slowly begin to die off from shock at his appearance, it was the name of the singer currently crooning beautifully before him, the title read, Mellisson.
In front of him, the girl singing was just starting to notice the band had stalled. Her waist long black hair hung in a thick sheet down her back, as long legs showing far too much skin, extended from a black mini skirt. He saw the glint of silver jewelry against the delicate looking wrist that had never fully recovered from the brake during her first year of life. His eyes caught a hold of one particular bracelet, noting with a heavy heart that it had been the first gift he'd given Mellisson on her sixteenth birthday.
He watched in slow motion as a group of men started from the side of the stage, their intent clearly written on their outstretched and ready to pounce arms. He ignored them after a brief look, his attention refocusing on the fifteen-year-old girl slowly revolving towards him.
He saw the line of her shoulders and hip shift and his immediate thought was that she was too thin. What was it with Americans and needing their women to look like boys. He decided Arabella hadn't been feeding her properly, letting her get away with skipping meals or worse, he'd remedy that shortly. He ignored the obvious medical reason of her childhood injury, focusing instead on someone he could yell at.
Next he noticed the peaks of her breasts, over emphasized by the white cups of the laced up corset top, covered only partially by a sheer black shirt with rhinestone written 'Goddess' down the sleeve. Oh those was getting burned the moment they found there way into the laundry!
Her stomach was taunt, and he knew she prided herself on the two hundred sit-up she did every day to keep it that way. He grimaced at the shine of some stone or other glittering from her bellybutton, but knew he'd grudgingly given her permission for the trinket only weeks ago for her fifteenth birthday.
And then her face came into view. She was gorgeous. Her chin was round but well defined, as were her cheekbones. Her lips were full--and even though no one knew it because of the Featura Obscurra spell he'd cast daily on himself since her move to America--she had his full and sensuous lips.
Dark bangs curled just slightly over her well proportioned forehead and just barely touched the tops of her dark well shaped eyebrows. Her nose was straight, but not overly large, it was a nose of dignity and wealth, and he was glad to know she'd inherited it from Mellisson.
Her blue/white eyes were as he remembered them, empty voids to be lost in if stared at for too long. But now they were over emphasized by the dark Kohl lines she'd drawn around her eyes.
She was wearing far too much make-up for a fifteen-year-old, he thought. Her lips, which were just now parting into a wide smile of recognition—showing off her brilliantly straight teeth—were far too red, too dark for a fifteen year old. Her cheeks, rosy from the horribly hot lights and the exertion of her boisterous dance movements, were redder then they should have been; she was wearing rouge too!
They were definitely going to talk about this!
His eyes locked with hers, and he noticed before he could react, that she'd spent the time he'd evaluated her appearance to start her flight. She was already half way to the arms he found were already stretched out to receive her.
"UNCLE SEVERUS!!!"