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Chapter Text

Severus Snape was a pessimist. He knew he was a pessimist. He didn’t think he was over-reacting one bit to say that he feared this would be a horrible year, probably one of the worst of his adult life. The Dark Lord had returned at the end of the last school year, and he had already made Severus’s life painful, dangerous, and miserable since then. The newest nail in the coffin of this school year though was the pink-clad toad-woman sitting at the head of the staff table at the beginning of the year staff meeting. She had already interrupted the headmaster six times and had made it very clear that she answered only to the Minister of Magic and no one else.

Snape was a very observant person as well. You had to be to stay alive as a spy to a murderous psychopath. The ministry woman…Umbridge, was evil from the tip of her pink bow to the soles of her kitten heels. She was also boring, and that was probably her largest offense in his opinion. Everything about her screamed exactly who she was, her beliefs, and her twisted nature. He didn’t need to study her for more than two minutes to know exactly how she would respond to any situation…with bigotry and hate.

As the horrid woman droned on about ministry policies and pruning things, Severus turned his attention to the only interesting person in the entire staff room. Granted, Flitwick and Dumbledore both were pretty interesting studies of character, and McGonagall kept him on his toes, but he had known them for years, decades some of them. They were old news. No, the other new professor, now he was interesting.

At some point over the summer, Binns had finally decided that teaching was boring, or he had finished his unfinished business, or whatever and moved on, to no one’s sadness. After longer than anyone’s (except maybe Dumbledore’s) memory, Hogwarts finally had a new History of Magic professor. When Dumbledore had told Severus a couple weeks before, he immediately expected an old, wizened wizard with patched robes and horn-rimmed spectacles who read all day and had no people skills. Well…he wasn’t sure about the people skills, but this professor was the exact opposite of all his assumptions.

The man had entered the staff room last, with an air of self-assurance that even Severus didn’t possess. The potions master was going to roll his eyes at the arrogance and disregard his new colleague until he saw him talk to Dumbledore. He looked on confused at how the man carried himself like a soldier, one who was ready for anything. He hadn’t seen someone so alert and prepared for danger since perhaps Mad-Eye Moody in his prime. This was evidenced when Trelawney, of course, knocked her teacup off the table with a careless elbow and the man caught it before it hit the floor, not even stopping to blink in his conversation with the headmaster.

When Dumbledore started the meeting, the new professor strode over and lowered himself with the grace of a cat into the chair beside Severus. He turned and gave Snape a little nod of greeting. Returning the nod, Severus added another mystery to his list. The man’s eyes were green and large, he would say that they were like Potter’s except for the lack of glasses and the fact they were completely lifeless. This man had dead eyes, like he had seen Hell and still carried it with him. Anyone who carried himself like a soldier and had such eyes was not someone to be trifled with.

The man was dressed in black robes, similar to those Severus wore, but these robes were almost new and well-tailored. He was of a slightly shorter than average height and obviously well-built with muscles that spoke of hard work or a hard life. What stood out most about the man was a long scar on his face that stretched from his hairline, over his eye, to mid-way down his right cheek. It could only have been done with either a knife or a cutting curse, either of which the man had to have been extremely lucky to have survived. Age was the hardest to pinpoint in the new professor. From a distance, Snape would guess early to mid-thirties, but up close his battle-weary demeanor spoke more to at least forties. His eyes spoke to one older than Dumbledore.  

After introducing the evil, pink woman, Dumbledore had introduced the new History professor as a Professor Fred Dobbins who was obviously British but who had studied at Durmstrang. “Pleased to meet you all,” was the stranger’s gruff reply in a strangely raspy voice, and his only comment so far in the meeting.

Out of the corner of his eye, Severus continued to study the new man instead of listening to the insufferable woman. Dobbins seemed to find her just as infuriating as he did, judging by the twitch at the corner of his eye occasionally, no other emotion was visible on the stoic face. Severus did note a slight tremor in the man’s hands though. If he were to make an educated guess, a tremor like that in a man like the one he was observing was most likely born through surviving more Cruciatus Curses than anyone should ever have to endure. Noting this, he looked more intently at the man’s temples. This man must have seen a lot…too much. He searched for the tale-tell small blue veins that became visible, to anyone trained with a potions mastery, and indicated an addiction to Dreamless Sleep. Pursing his lips, he noted very distinctly the blue lines just under the skin clearly. It seemed this new professor was an addict. Well…he was not going to be providing any potions for the man. If he asked, he would learn that very quickly. Severus briefly wondered if Dumbledore or Pomfrey knew before deciding he really didn’t care.

“And we will eradicate these rumors of the return of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named,” Umbridge continued. At this, Dobbins snorted. “Something to add Mr…Dobbins was it?” Umbridge said in a sickeningly sweet tone.

“Professor Dobbins,” he corrected with a sneer. The man ran his hand through his dark, very close-cropped hair as if he expected more of it to be there. “Based on the current Death Eater movements, Potter's report after your fiasco of a tournament, and the death of your other student, it's clearly obvious Voldemort has returned. Burying your head in the sand won’t change that fact. It’s better to be prepared than caught without a plan of action. Even if he has not returned, I see no advantage to not being prepared just in case.”

Severus winced at the pain in his Mark when Dobbins used the Dark Lord’s name but managed to only let the slightest reaction show on his face. Well, at least the new professor seemed to not be a Death Eater, small mercies after fake-Moody from the year before. The toad-woman scoffed. “Really!” She said indignantly. “Dumbledore, I would hope you could keep your instructors better in line and from spreading vicious lies!”

The man shrugged like he could not care less about anything Umbridge thought. “The headmaster does not have the legal power or right to restrict what can and cannot be said by his employees, neither does the ministry unless it falls under slander laws, which they never do seem to uphold. Regardless, I’m here to teach History of Magic, not law, so that’s all I plan on doing.”

“Well said, my boy!” Dumbledore twinkled at the man. Severus saw that same twitch around the man’s eye that had been there when Umbridge spoke reappear at Dumbledore’s regular term of endearment. Apparently, the man was less a fan than even Snape at being called that.

As if he wasn’t even paying attention, Dobbins waved a hand over his cold tea and wandlessly and wordlessly cast a warming charm, so it was steaming once more. Dumbledore and Snape both raised an eyebrow, but the man just picked up the cup and took a sip, obviously not planning to speak again for the rest of the meeting. Glancing at the headmaster, they shared a look. It seemed like this year was going to be interesting. It might be horrible, but at least Severus was glad he wouldn’t be bored.

It didn’t take more than a few weeks into the semester for the students to all firmly decide what they thought of the new professors and their classes. Severus was always well-informed about the rumors around the castle. His information came from his Slytherins sometimes, but mostly from the fact that he could walk through the corridors without making a sound. It was amazing what students would talk about out in the open where anyone could hear. Anyway, Umbridge was evil and stupid and her class was less than pointless. It seemed she didn’t even bother to teach, instead having students read in her class…what they should have been doing for homework. The book wasn’t even remotely informative. At least, that’s what all the students were saying.

Dobbins, on the other hand, was apparently moving into the favorite professor spot for a large portion of the students. He seemed to have no house favoritism, coming from Durmstrang, and treated everyone fairly, if a touch strict. Overwhelmingly, the students thought he made history actually interesting and fun. Many of the students who had not planned to go for a NEWT in history were now considering it with the new professor. The most surprising rumor, however, was that it seemed Professor Dobbins hated Harry Potter even more than Professor Snape on a bad day.

Shocked by the new rumor, Severus checked the professor’s book that tracked all student detentions. Sure enough, after a couple detentions with Umbridge at the beginning of the semester, Potter had a detention scheduled with Professor Dobbins almost every single night. While Severus definitely didn’t like the arrogant brat, a detention every night seemed excessive. What in Merlin’s name could the boy have done to Dobbins? The hardened man used the Dark Lord’s name enough to not be a Death Eater, and seemed to believe the boy’s story about his return, so why the hatred?

This question led Severus to start his patrol duties one night close to the History professor’s office. He waited in an alcove for no more than a couple minutes before Professor Dobbins’s door opened and Gryffindor’s Golden Boy walked out of his detention. Instead of looking cowed or chastised, the bloody boy had a smile on his face. “Thanks Professor! Have a good evening,” he called behind him back into the office before heading towards Gryffindor Tower.

Interesting, Severus remarked to himself. It was possible the new professor didn’t hate the boy as much as it seemed at first glance if Potter seemed to actually like his detentions. Well, Severus did find a detention every night concerning, but enjoyable detentions, now that was just sacrilegious! He’d have to keep an even closer eye on this new professor. It wouldn’t do to have him spoil the arrogant brat more.

Snape checked the professor’s book obsessively to see which of his Slytherins had detentions and with who. He also found himself tracking Potter and his detentions with Dobbins. It seemed that Umbridge got to him first for a detention in late-October. If he were the suspicious type, which he definitely was, he would think Dobbins was trying to keep Potter away from Umbridge. Well, she was repulsive, but giving the brat detention every night seemed a bit over-kill.

The mystery is what had Severus waiting in an alcove again, but this time in the corridor outside the Defense professor’s office. When he finally exited, past curfew to Snape’s ire, Potter definitely didn’t look happy this time. In fact, he looked downright sick. Confused and curious, Snape followed the boy from a distance as he slowly walked down the corridor into the next, holding his hand oddly in front of him. 

“I’m sorry Harry. I was just too slow this time,” Snape heard someone whisper in a raspy voice around the corner. He glanced around the wall but remaining hidden, one eye keeping tabs on the pair. Of course, it was Dobbins who had met up with the boy.

“It’s ok, Professor,” Potter smiled gratefully as Dobbins took his hand. “You said you probably wouldn’t be able to stop her every time. We had a pretty good run. I think I’ve broken every rule at least three times according to you.”

Dobbins made a sound of derision or anger or both as he pulled a jar of something out of his pocket and started liberally applying it to Potter’s hand. “Still, I understand what you’re going through, and I don’t like it or approve.”

“I know,” the boy smiled teasingly at his professor. “I guess I do have some self-preservation instincts. Hermione will be glad to hear of it.”

Dobbins gave a dry sort of laugh before replacing the lid and handing the jar to Potter. “Remember to put that on in the morning too.”

“Yes, sir!” Potter gave a fake salute and skipped off as Dobbins playfully smacked him on the back of the head.

Even more confused than before he saw the interaction, Snape headed back to his chambers and to a restful night marking essays. Try as he might, Severus couldn’t figure out exactly what was going on, and it was driving him crazy. After two glasses of wine and three classes of essays, he decided that he might just have to stop watching the new professor and actually talk to the man. He shuddered, small talk, ergh!

The next day, Severus kept one eye on the interactions between Dobbins and Potter, or to be more precise, the lack of interaction. Dobbins didn’t seem to acknowledge that Potter even existed besides giving the boy detention for talking too loudly in the hallway. Even to Snape’s trained eye, he would never have guessed the man could care for the boy enough to be the same man that met Potter in the corridor the night before. Potter, on the other hand, wasn’t as much of a brick wall as Dobbins. Oh he tried to keep any emotion from his face around Dobbins, but Severus could see him glance up the head table at breakfast occasionally when he believed no one to be looking. It was obvious those glances were towards Dobbins. And there was an almost grateful glint in Potter’s eye when Dobbins had given him detention. Something was definitely going on, and Snape was just the spy to find it out.

Passing a smiling Potter leaving the history office that very night, Snape sneered at the boy and continued on to knock at the door. “Enter,” a low-raspy voice called out.

“Dobbins,” Snape nodded to the man as he entered.

“Ah, Snape. Can I help you with something?” Dobbins was standing behind his desk at a small but efficient potions set-up. There were two potions currently brewing and Snape could tell from the smell and color that one was Essence of Murtlap and the other was undeniably Dreamless Sleep.

Snape set the vial of Dreamless Sleep he brought with him as an excuse on the desk, and he took a seat in the chair in front of it. “I come bearing gifts and to ask how you are settling in.”

Dobbins looked at him very suspiciously as if this was the very last thing he expected from the Potions professor. “I am well, thank you for asking,” Dobbins responded slowly as he picked up the potion and inspected it before putting it in a drawer. “And thank you for the gift. It is appreciated.”

“I don’t suppose Dumbledore or Poppy know of your…problem, do they?” Snape asked with a pointed nod towards the Dreamless Sleep cauldron, which looked perfectly brewed if he had to admit it.

Dobbins shrugged uncaringly. “You seem to have figured it out. I’m sure Pomfrey could if she wanted. Dumbledore…well I doubt he would care, but I don’t plan on outright telling him anyway. It’s my business and doesn’t affect my teaching in any way.”

“It’s inadvisable to be as dependent as you seem to be on a particular potion,” Snape advised, hoping to steer the conversation to Potter and Umbridge very soon. "It negatively impacts your health and will eventually cease working as well."

The younger man nodded before stirring the Essence of Murtlap cauldron the correct amount of times before letting it simmer once more. “Actually, my addiction was the advice of my healer,” Dobbins admitted. “Weighing a potions dependency against never sleeping again seemed to push her in favor of the dependency. I’m sure I can go off the potion if needed, but I’ll probably die eventually from being unable to sleep afterwards.”

At that admission, Snape’s eyes grew large in shock. What could have happened to cause that effect on a history professor? “You seem very capable with potions,” he ended up remarking instead, for some reason Dobbins seems to find that statement humorous. “May I ask what the murtlap is for?”

Dobbins crossed his arms over his chest and sat on the end of his desk closest to Severus, pinning the man with a stern look. “How about you ask me what you really want to instead? The reason why you came to my office…?”

Severus didn’t know what it was about this man that caused him to squirm like a child under that searching glare. The History professor affected him more than even Dumbledore or the Dark Lord with just a look. Finally, he decided to go for the truth. “You’re giving Potter detentions to keep him from getting them with Umbridge.”

There wasn’t a question in the remark, so Dobbins just inclined his head in assent but remained silent. “Why?” Snape finally added in frustration when the man didn’t elaborate.

Dobbins stood at that and motioned to the large cauldron of Essence of Murtlap. “She uses a blood quill in her detentions,” he explained. “The murtlap is for when I can’t divert a student’s detention to someone else. So far, she’s only used it on Harry, but I’ve been pushing any student’s head of house to ask to have their detentions moved to them just in case she starts in on others.”

Severus gasped in shock and anger. “That vile toad!” He exclaimed. “How dare she?!”

Dobbins gave him a tight smile of approval at his outrage. “Wait, I’m the Slytherin head of house! What about my students?” Severus asked in indignation.

Dobbins rolled his eyes. “I’ve seen you checking the book. You know none of your students have been given a detention with the woman yet,” he reminded.

Severus had forgotten that for a minute. Yes, none of them had been given detentions with her. “Why is that?” He finally asked.

Dobbins waved a hand as if to say who knows? “Maybe she was a Slytherin herself. My guess is that their parents are too well connected though. If anyone told their parents she was using a blood quill, they’d storm the school in outrage. That’s why she gets away with using it on Harry, and also why it’s even more despicable, torturing an orphan who has no one to turn to.”

Snape thought for a minute. Something was wrong with that statement. “But, Potter, he does have relatives. The ones he lives with. They might not be well connected, but they could still cause a ruckus.”

Dobbins outright laughed at this though the laugh had no humor in it. “Yeah, right, those abusive bastards. They’d probably thank her and give her advice for how to make it worse.”

At this Snape bristled. Potter had to have lied to the man. He had to be wrong. That went against everything he knew to be true about the arrogant, self-centered, brat. Dobbins continued like he hadn’t just shaken the foundations of Severus’s belief system though. “Well, that and with all the bad press he’s getting right now, no one would believe a word he said anyway.”

Dobbins scooped out a spoonful of the murtlap potion and rolled up his trouser leg, exposing a bandage over a long gash which he applied the potion to. After giving it a minute and the gash starting to close, Dobbins smiled. “Looks like this batch turned out pretty good,” he said, lowering his trouser leg and taking the cauldron off the flame.

“What happened to you?” Severus inquired with a raised eyebrow at the nonchalance the man displayed at a fairly deep cut that he had to have been nursing at least all day.

Dobbins turned those dead eyes on Snape and smiled at him viciously. “Paper cut,” was all he said in response.

Snape glared at the blatant deflection of the question. “Yes, History is commonly believed to be a very dangerous subject to teach,” Snape responded with as much sarcasm as he could muster.

Dobbins just smiled and sat back on the corner of the desk. “I hear the guy before me died.”

“About thirty years ago…of old age,” Snape raised his eyebrow, nonverbally asking if the man was serious.

Before either of them could respond, the Dark Mark flared in a wave of heat and pain on Snape’s arm. The Dark Lord was calling. Snape suppressed a hiss but had to grab his arm to put pressure on the Mark as pain coursed through him. To his horror, Dobbins had grabbed onto his left arm right where a Dark Mark must be at the same time, but he just frowned, and his features tightened with the wave of pain. “You,” Snape half accused half questioned.

“Best hurry. Don’t want to be late,” Dobbins smirked at him with a wink as he turned back to the Dreamless Sleep potion to give it a stir.

Confused, Snape stared at him, knowing he really did need to hurry. “You’re not coming?”

Dobbins snorted. “Please, I do not come when called,” he said cryptically before settling back into stirring. “I’m well stocked on pain potions if you need to stop by later,” he added as Snape strode from the room with more questions than when he entered.

Chapter Text

After telling Dumbledore of the Dark Lord’s plans to break his followers out of Azkaban, Snape found himself pausing by where he knew the Defense professor’s quarters to be. He really could use a pain potion and he had just sent his last batch to Pomfrey that morning. He didn’t know why he hadn’t told Dumbledore that his newest professor was a Death Eater, probably because he couldn’t figure the man out. He wanted to know what his goal was before turning him in. Was he there to spy on Snape? Why was he protecting Potter? The man confused him to no end, and hr really didn't like being confused.

That’s why Severus found himself standing in front of the portrait of an irritated-looking old man at 1am wondering if he should knock. “You’re the Potions Professor, right?” The old man asked him with a stern frown.

Severus didn’t recognize the portrait, and it didn’t have a name on the frame, so he just nodded. “No use knocking,” the man told him. “The boy takes Dreamless Sleep every night. He said to just let you in if you stopped by. The potion is on the kitchen table. Why he’s giving potions to a potion master is beyond me though,” the man continued to grumble as he swung the portrait open.

Shocked at being let into his sleeping colleague’s quarters, Snape entered the bare sitting room. It didn’t look like Dobbins had added any personal possessions at all to the furnished space. Everything was standard Hogwarts furniture and supplies with no decorations and no knickknacks or anything. Passing the mantle, Severus paused. There was one picture on it, the only personal touch in the entire room, actually the only decoration in the entire flat it seemed. Taking a closer look, it was of three people. One seemed to be a younger version of Dobbins who still had that haunted look in his eyes and the scar down his face, but his eyes did look less dead. He had his arms around the other two people, not quite smiling, but still looking less like all hope had left the world. Beside him stood a redheaded male who was tall, burly, and who looked like a fighter who had been in one too many fights based on his injuries and the feral gleam in his eyes. The other was a woman with her hair pulled into a fierce bun and a large burn across the left side of her face and neck. They all looked like they had been in a war, and they weren’t winning. They obviously cared for each other though, that was evident from the glances they shot each other in the picture and how the woman squeezed Dobbins’s hand.

Gleaning no more information from the picture, Severus made his way to the kitchen table where a small vial of pain potion was waiting for him. He lifted it and looked at it up close then unstoppered it and sniffed it. It seemed to be brewed perfectly. Finally downing the potion, he instantly began to feel better. The Dark Lord was liberal with his curses, but Snape hadn’t angered him much beyond being a little too late, so it wasn’t as bad as it could have been.

Placing the empty vial back on the table, Severus looked once more around the bare flat before starting to leave. Two steps from the door and he heard noises of someone in pain. He stopped and listened closer. The person was crying and screaming out in agony. Realizing the Dreamless Sleep must no longer be as effective for the addict, Snape rushed to where the bedroom should be and pushed open the door.

“Dobbins!” Snape called out, trying to wake the man.

When that did nothing, Snape slowly walked into the room that was just as empty as the rest of the flat save the four-poster bed with the thrashing man on it. Seriously considering just leaving, Snape instead braced himself, knowing this would probably end up badly for him before reaching out a hand to shake the professor’s shoulder.

“Dobbins, wake up!” He said, giving the shoulder a good shake.

He remembered he had been standing and leaning over the bed...that much was true. How he ended up laying in the bed with a wand pointed at his throat and a dagger digging into his side was beyond him though. It had all happened so fast he was positive he would have been dead before realizing what had happened except there was a spark of recognition in the lifeless green eyes staring into his own from the man pinning him down. “Snape?” He asked questioningly.

Snape awkwardly blinked at the other man in confusion. “I…came for the potion. You were having a nightmare,” he said in as much explanation as he could muster from where he had just experienced his life flash before his eyes metaphorically speaking.

The wand and dagger both seemed to disappear instantly, to where Severus could not tell. “I’m sorry, sir,” Dobbins said tiredly. The potions master’s confusion increased at the slip of the “sir.”

Checking himself for injuries and finding none, Severus slowly stood again. “No harm done. You really should back off the Dreamless Sleep if it isn’t stopping your nightmares anymore.”

Dobbins just waved off his concern before running his hand through his short-cropped hair again in some kind of nervous habit. Severus’s eyes narrowed at the very clear, but also expected, image of the Dark Mark on Dobbin’s left forearm. The man slept in sleep pants and a t-shirt. The t-shirt left his arms bare which seemed to be littered with scars, some tiny and some he would have been lucky to have lived through. “It never really took away all the nightmares, but at least it does get me to sleep somewhat,” was the man’s only explanation. “Thank you for waking me though. That one was one of the worst.”

Severus inclined in head in a short nod, being quite familiar with nightmares himself. “It was nothing.”

Dobbins pulled his legs up to sit cross-legged and get more comfortable. “So, how was Snake-Face and his minions? What earned you a crucio this time? Breathing?”

“You have to be the worst Death Eater I’ve ever encountered,” Snape looked at him in bemusement. “Even forgetting everything I’ve learned this evening, why do you use his name all the time? Doesn’t it cause you pain like the rest of us?”

“Thank you, and of course,” Dobbins chuckled. “I’m not going to let that monster dictate what I can and cannot say, no matter the consequences. I believe I made my feelings on that clear at our first staff meeting.”

Seeing that Dobbins made no move to return to sleep or ask him to leave, Snape decided to take the opportunity to get some answers and conjured a chair to sit in since the other man seemed to have no furniture. “You know you can add more furnishings,” he said as he settled in the less than comfortable chair. He was never as good as Dumbledore at conjuring for comfort.

The man looked around the room in confusion as if seeing it for the first time and then shrugged. “This is the nicest place I’ve ever lived. I didn’t really even consider adding things.”

Snape raised an eyebrow in disbelief. “Where did you live, a monastery?”

Dobbins gave him a wry grin. “A cupboard, but I guess there is some overlap with the spartan nature, huh?”

“A cupboard?” Snape asked in revulsion at whoever would make a person live in a cupboard.

Dobbins just shrugged. “My relatives hated magic. Besides, it was good training for having less than nothing later in life. So, these chambers are pretty much a palace to me. Now, tell me about the meeting. What did I miss? Why did you get crucio’d? Please tell me someone pissed their pants!”

“The Death Eater meeting?” Snape asked, pushing for clarification. “You are confirming that you’re a Death Eater?”

Dobbins rubbed the Dark Mark on his arm like he was angry at it. “Sort-of...let’s just say I’m really, really not in good standing,” he said evasively. “You haven’t answered my question.”

“I was late,” Snape said simply. “If I told the Dark Lord you are here, what do you imagine he would say?”

Dobbins shrugged and gave Snape a mischievous grin. “You really can’t predict what insane people will say or do. He’d probably want you to bring me in though. I’d prefer you didn’t try, really.”

Looking into the man’s eyes, Snape nonverbally sent a Legilimens his direction. The man’s mind was completely closed as if wrapped in iron. Dobbins smirked, seeming to have caught what Snape was doing, but he said nothing. Now, even more concerned, Severus glared at him for a minute. “If I told Dumbledore about you, what would he say?”

“Ah, now that’s the question,” Dobbins considered with a sigh. “I don’t really know. He’d probably pump me full of Veritaserum and try to get all my secrets out of me. Wouldn’t work though.”

Severus frowned deeply. There was no known way to avoid telling the truth under Veritaserum. “You’ve developed a vaccine or counteractant?”

The man shook his head sadly. “Nope, never heard of one existing, but I have taken a potion that interacts with Veritaserum. The resulting combination wouldn’t be very good for my health, if you know what I mean.”

Now this potion Snape had heard of. Specifically, the Dark Lord had asked him to develop it. He had not made much headway, mainly because he didn’t want to. Willingly or not, taking a potion that would kill you if you were given a truth serum was beyond inhumane. “I don’t believe that potion exists yet,” Snape crossed his arms and frowned.

Dobbins laughed. “Because you know of every single potion in existence in every country? Wow, you’re full of surprises, Snape. Those skills might even be putting Trelawney out of a job.”

Severus glared at him. He had a point, but the potions master would never admit it. “Anyway,” Dobbins continued. “My turn for a question.”

“I didn’t know we were taking turns,” Snape drawled with a disbelieving raise of his eyebrow.

Dobbins smirked at him. “My question is, why are you here? You’re a potions master. I know I offered the pain potion, but I didn’t actually expect you to take me up on it. Why are you out of potions?”

Snape glared at him. “I’m not really out. I sent my latest batch to Madam Pomfrey and didn’t want to have to deal with her mothering right now.”

The infuriating man chuckled then waved his hand dismissively. “Ok, well, off with you now. You’ve gotten your potion and saved the poor professor-in-distress. If you don’t go to sleep now, Gryffindor will lose so many points tomorrow they’ll be completely out of the running for the house cup.”

Severus stood and walked to the door but stopped before leaving. “I don’t know what your end-game is, Dobbins. I don’t know if I can trust you with the children at this school.”

“I’m not the only one with an unfortunate tattoo on my arm in Hogwarts,” Dobbins answered as he fluffed his pillow to lay back down. “I think Umbridge is more of a problem than me right now. She might not be a Death Eater, but she has definitively proven she should not be trusted around children.”

“As you say,” Snape agreed. “I’ll help you keep an eye on the professor’s book,” he offered as he finally left the bedroom and headed out of the chambers to go to his own. Every time he talked to the History professor, he left with more questions than he started with. The man was obviously a Death Eater but did actually seem to care for the students. He didn’t attend the meetings, and seemed to have strong disdain for the Dark Lord if not hatred. It didn’t make sense, and Severus Snape hated when things didn’t make sense.

Severus was relieved he hadn’t been asked to help in the Azkaban prison break. Dumbledore hadn’t been able to muster up a force that could stop it, so they had to concede this battle in the war. It was a major loss to their side though. Bellatrix alone would be able to wreak havoc unchecked on the populace, let alone all the other Death Eaters. So, it was with dread that Severus took his copy of the Daily Prophet from the owl in the Great Hall at breakfast. He was already hearing gasps from those who had gotten their copy more quickly.

Mass Breakout from Azkaban

Was emblazoned across the front. Reading further, it seemed that, unfortunately, the Dark Lord’s plans had gone off without a hitch. Except…why did it say Bellatrix Lestrange was found brutally tortured and murdered in her cell?!! The Dark Lord wouldn’t have killed his most loyal, and insane, follower. He continued to read and was shocked to note that investigators had determined that she had been dead for several days, so it could not have been connected to the breakout.

What in Merlin’s name?! Snape thought as he finished reading. He glanced over at the History professor who was also reading the paper with a completely blank expression on his face. Dobbins had a mysterious gash on his leg the day after Bellatrix was supposedly murdered…could he have…?

Attempting to organize his thoughts, Severus looked back on all his interactions and impressions of the new professor. He carried himself as a soldier, obviously had seen too much, was highly trained, was skilled enough to get the drop on Severus in his room that night, had impenetrable Occlumency shields, had taken a potion to kill himself if he were ever administered Veritaserum, was a Death Eater but not in good standing, was not in good standing but was still alive, seemingly cared for the students, and mysteriously teaching History of all things… The only way Snape could see it was that the man was either too important of an asset to the Dark Lord for him to murder the man even with his impertinent attitude, or he was just so good the Dark Lord couldn’t murder him.

Coming to a surprising, but very fitting conclusion, Severus was forced to admit the man must be some form of an assassin. Working for who though? That was the question. Was he freelance? But why did he have a Dark Mark? And who was he targeting at the school? Not Potter or the child would already be dead surely. Resolving that he would answer the mystery of what happened to Bellatrix Lestrange and who this new professor really was, Severus took up his paper once more and continued to read as he ate.

Dobbins continued to be a teacher beyond reproach. Umbridge couldn’t even find any fault with his teaching, Snape thought with amusement. He obviously knew his subject exceptionally well and succeeded in getting the students interested in something they had all dreaded in the past. If he wasn’t positive at this point that the man was a professional killer, he’d swear teaching was Dobbins’s one passion and calling. He still had no clue what to do about the man. He figured he should tell Dumbledore, but something was holding him back. He didn’t know if it was instinct, or if he just really wanted to solve the mystery of the man before turning him over. He was definitely not going to mention Dobbins to the Dark Lord. He was sure it would either get Dobbins killed or himself. He really didn’t want to find out which.

To his amusement, the school rumors turned to there being a secret defense club going on behind Umbridge’s back. As Snape saw Dobbins escorting Potter occasionally some place in the evenings when he should be in detention with the man, Snape was positive the History professor was in on it. He really hoped an assassin wasn’t helping teach it though, that may end badly for all of them.

The more confusing rumor that had surfaced recently was that there may be some kind of friendship brewing between one Gryffindor Golden Boy and the Slytherin Prince. How in Merlin’s name Potter and Malfoy were working through their years of animosity was beyond Snape’s comprehension. He assumed this rumor must be a false one. There was no way in any reality those two could become friends. Also, they didn’t seem to be behaving much differently towards one another in class. There hadn’t been any fights recently, but there were still insults thrown and sneers given.

It was just before Christmas break and Severus was yearning for it all to end and the students to leave for a blissful two weeks of quiet. On a side note, he heard Dobbins say he planned to remain at the castle. That would give Severus two weeks to figure out the man more without the distraction of insufferable dunderheads and exploding cauldrons. With these thoughts, he was relaxing into his armchair with a good book late into the night when the headmaster’s head appeared in the flames of his floo, just about giving him a heart attack.

“Albus! What in Merlin’s name are you doing at this time of night in my floo?” Snape asked, cleaning the tea he had spilt off his robes from when he jumped.

“I need you to come to my office directly, my boy,” Dumbledore said seriously.

“Is something wrong, Headmaster?” Snape asked, now worried the Order had suffered a major loss.

“Arthur Weasley was attacked on guard duty,” Dumbledore said regretfully, the twinkle missing from his eye. “I’ll explain more when you arrive.”

Severus threw on his teaching robes again once the flames died down and quickly exited his rooms in a billow of dark fabric. He stifled a look of concern when he passed the upset group of Weasleys following a tartan clad McGonagall. He might feel concern, but there was no way he would show it to a group of Weasleys, no matter what had happened.

After giving the password, some ridiculous sweet, to the gargoyle, he hurried up the revolving stairway and pushed into the headmaster’s office. Snape blinked, the only sign of his surprise, when his gaze fell on a distressed Harry Potter sitting in the chair across from Dumbledore who was studiously refusing to look the boy in the eye. “Headmaster, you wished to see me?” He asked, really hoping for a straightforward explanation instead of what the headmaster usually told him.

“Ah, Severus. It seems we have a bit of a problem,” Dumbledore started with a quick glance to where Potter was sitting. “I think it’s imperative that you start to teach Harry here Occlumency as soon as possible. I fear we’ll all be in danger if you don’t.”

“Headmaster, surely there’s someone else…anyone,” he protested. Whatever Potter had done must have been idiotic and terrifying for the headmaster to have asked this of his spy. If the Dark Lord saw he was giving these lessons to the boy…that would be the end of his usefulness and his life. “You realize…”

“There’s no one else,” Dumbledore insisted. “You must teach him to guard his mind.”

“Erm…” Potter cut in tentatively. “Actually, Headmaster, I don’t think that’s necessary.”

Snape sneered at him. “You don’t think it’s necessary to protect your mind from invasion from the Dark Lord? Are you mentally challenged or just an idiot?”

“Now Severus,” Dumbledore stopped his rant. “Maybe if we explain more to Harry…”

“Actually, Headmaster, I know exactly what Occlumency and Legilimency are,” Harry interrupted with an irritated gleam in his eyes. “What I meant was that it isn’t necessary for Professor Snape to teach me because I already know Occlumency.”

Both men stared at the boy, Dumbledore even forgetting he was trying to avoid eye contact. “What do you mean that you already know it?” Snape growled.

Harry looked between them. “I think my statement was very clear. I already know Occlumency. My link with Voldemort is one way. My shields are strong enough to keep any visions out that he may intentionally send me, but when I have a vision of what he’s doing, it’s because I’m employing a mild form of Legilimency sub-consciously in my sleep. I do not know how to stop doing that since I'm asleep at the time.”

Snape stared into the boy’s eyes, “Legilimens,” he incanted. Instead of being swept up into a swirl of schoolboy thoughts, he met a solid barrier. He probed the barrier for a long moment finding no weak spots anywhere to get purchase in. The brat’s shields were almost as strong as his own. Finally, he pulled away. “He’s not lying, Headmaster,” Snape reluctantly admitted. “I can gain no access to his mind.”

“Where did you learn this, my boy? And how did you learn about your link with Voldemort?” Dumbledore asked, actually making eye contact with Potter now.

“Professor Dobbins taught me Occlumency,” Harry responded, seeming relieved the headmaster would look him in the eye again, and that he didn’t have to do extra lessons with his least favorite professor. “That’s what we’ve been doing every night in my detentions. He also came up with the theory about the link.”

There was a beat as Dumbledore and Snape looked at each other in shock and a bit of fear. Eventually, Dumbledore turned back to his floo and once more summoned a professor to his office at an ungodly hour. It only took a few minutes before the scarred and weathered History professor pushed through the door into Dumbledore’s office.

“Dumbledore, Snape, Harry…what can I help you all with?” Dobbins asked, good-naturedly greeting all of them. He was still dressed for the day and didn’t seem to have been woken up for the meeting. Judging by his addiction, he probably wouldn’t have responded so quickly to Dumbledore’s floo call if he had been asleep, Severus noted. The History professor joined Harry in sitting in front of Dumbledore’s desk while Snape remained pacing.

“Harry was just telling us how you taught him Occlumency,” Dumbledore remarked to his professor in a fake calm tone. “May I ask why?”

Dobbins looked between them all with a shrug. “I had to fill the detention time somehow. Everyone knows Harry’s had problems with his scar, and he confirmed he had bad dreams when I asked, so it only made sense to teach him to protect his mind.”

“We don’t normally teach mind magic here at Hogwarts,” Dumbledore chided him. “It’s not the lightest of fields.”

“But Headmaster, you just said you wanted Snape to teach me,” Potter asked in confusion.

“Professor Snape,” Dumbledore corrected. “I know Severus’s abilities better than Professor Dobbins here.”

“But Professor Snape couldn’t get in my mind when he tried,” Potter continued to protest, raising a solid point, but still being impertinent about it.

Dobbins seemed to find all this very amusing for some reason as he watched the interaction. Severus decided that he couldn’t in good conscience avoid saying anything anymore. The man was messing around in Potter’s mind. Even if Voldemort had sent him to spy on Severus, he couldn’t let him muck around the boy’s thoughts. He knew too much about the Order and Severus already. Dumbledore needed to know. “Albus, I think you are missing the larger issue here.”

“And what is that, my boy?” Dumbledore looked at him with innocent confusion on his face. Not, he didn’t know already.

“Dobbins is a Death Eater…and, probably an assassin,” Snape said with a cross of his arms and a look at Dobbins, daring him to deny it.

Dumbledore and Snape both looked on in surprise when Harry Potter reached over and patted Dobbins’s arm comfortingly. The professor took Potter’s hand in his and gave it a grateful squeeze. “You are mostly correct, Snape,” Dobbins agreed to Dumbledore’s horror since both guesses were basically just as bad as each other. “I am not currently Death Eater however,” Dobbins said confidently. He rolled up his sleeves clearly showing the Dark Mark.

“Yes, well, it may be best if you explain that then,” Dumbledore cleared his throat, obviously at a loss as to how he had missed so much.

Still holding onto Potter’s hand like a lifeline, Dobbins answered, and his answer both cleared up so many of Snape’s questions and created so many more. “Well, headmaster, after being held captive by Voldemort (he and Snape both winced slightly) for about three months, he gets more and more creative in his torture. He got some perverse and insane pleasure out of branding me,” Dobbins said with a haunted look in his eye.

"Afterwards, I may have served him for a while, but I can promise you it was not out of loyalty or even as a type of Stockholm Syndrome but as a means to my own ends." The dark smirk on his face led Snape to be certain those ends were someone's very bloody death. He wracked his brain for a high-profile murder of a Death Eater at the end of the last war, but none were coming immediately to his mind.

Silence fell in the room. It was a minute before Snape and Dumbledore both seemed to realize that Dobbins hadn’t disagreed at all with Snape’s second claim. They turned to the man who nodded at them. “Yes, I am currently an assassin,” he agreed simply with a smirk. “Also, to answer your next question, yes, I’m here on a contract but it is not for any student or staff member at the school, so you have nothing to fear for any murders being committed in these halls by my hand.”

“You just tell us this, why?” Snape narrowed his eyes and glanced to Potter who didn’t seem fazed or even surprised by this admission.

“What are you going to do?” Dobbins shrugged dismissively. “I’m on contract with the school as a teacher for the year. To fire me, Dumbledore will have to go through the Board of Governors with an excuse, and his word isn’t so good right now. The same applies for if he tries to turn me into the ministry. If you tell Snake-Face, then he’ll probably just ask my going rate. As much as he wants me dead, I’ve changed enough that he won’t recognize my face or my name.”

“Harry, move away from the man, please,” Dumbledore turned fear-filled eyes to his Golden Boy.

“I don’t think I will, with all due respect, Headmaster,” Potter answered him as he still held onto Dobbins’s hand. “You see, I trust the professor with my life,” Potter smirked a little at that, finding it funny for some reason. Dobbins showed no emotion beyond giving Potter’s hand another squeeze. “Besides, every DADA professor up to and including this year has either tried to kill me or cause me serious harm. At least Professor Dobbins is being up front with his job and his motivations. If we aren’t his contract, he has no reason to kill us.”

“But, Harry, child, doesn’t it bother you that he is planning on killing someone?” Dumbledore asked him, shocked.

“Actually, it’s more like some people; my contract is for multiples this time,” Dobbins clarified.

“Did you murder Bellatrix Lestrange?” Snape asked, finally wanting a straight answer to the question.

“Without a doubt,” Dobbins smiled at him malevolently. “Slowly and without remorse.”

Potter did shiver a bit at this. It seemed that the boy wasn’t as on board with Dobbins as he was leading them to believe. “Professor, why don’t you just tell them who your contract is for. That will surely ease some of their fears,” Potter said to Snape’s surprise. Had the man really told the child who he was contracted to kill?

“Ah, yes, that might be smart of me. My contract is for Bellatrix Lestrange, Augustus Rookwood, Fenrir Greyback, and Tom Riddle,” Dobbins finally let go of Potter’s hand and crossed his arms, leaning back into the armchair.

It seems the man could still shock them, though Severus had thought nothing could at this point. “Um, Fred…may I call you Fred?” Dumbledore asked, clearing his throat in surprise. Dobbins inclined his head in assent. “You do know who Tom Riddle is, do you not?”

“Of course. Tom Riddle is Lord Voldemort,” Dobbins smiled a feral grin. “It will be my absolute pleasure to carry out this contract. I have never had one I looked forward to quite as much.”

“Who took out the contract?” Snape shook his head wondering at the audacity, and maybe the wisdom, of whoever it was that took out an assassin’s contract on the Dark Lord.

“Two someone’s actually, but I cannot betray their identities. I can however tell you how much my paid me,” Dobbins grinned widely and pinned Snape with the glare. “One galleon each.”

“One galleon each!” Snape’s eyes widened, shocked yet again.

“I told you, this contract was one I quite enjoyed taking. They offered me my going rate, but I talked them down quite easily,” Dobbins continued with the cold grin and dead eyes still focused on Snape.

“Why are you at my school?” Dumbledore still looked on the assassin in anger. “Why not join the Death Eaters since you said Voldemort wouldn’t recognize you? That would put you closer to your targets.”

"Been there, done that...you have to mix it up a bit," Dobbins said wryly with little care.

“He's here to protect me, of course,” Potter responded for him with a glare and roll of his eyes at the older man's antics. “The best way to get at Voldemort or any of his Death Eaters is actually to stand right beside me.”

“The boy does have a point,” Severus actually had to hold back a snort of laughter.

Dobbins frowned at Dumbledore and Snape. “I realize I may be a little behind in interacting with normal people,” he admitted with a little confusion. “You seem to be under the impression that I just go around killing indiscriminately. I am a bad person, I'll admit…but circumstances out of my control are what have led me here. I take no contracts for innocents, and I never humiliate my victims, giving them as much of an honorable death as I am able. I may enjoy a good torture curse or a bloody end, but I'm not entirely insane.”

“Have you killed anyone outside of a contract?” Severus asked with a raise of his eyebrow. Dobbins did seem more than a bit out of touch with normal people if he thought being an assassin wasn’t something that the leader of the light would look down upon out of principle, and that it would be comforting to anyone that he wasn't entirely insane.

Dobbins thought for a minute. “Of course, I have, and it’s possible I may again. I’ve been debating adding Peter Pettrigrew to the list even though he wasn’t on the original contract. I haven’t quite decided yet.”

“I’d prefer you not kill anyone,” Potter said quietly.

“Besides Riddle?” Dobbins asked with an eyebrow raised in clarification.

“I’d prefer you to not have to kill anyone, but I know he at least is probably necessary,” Potter said, just as quietly.

“I will leave Pettigrew alone then, unless someone takes out a contract on him,” Dobbins nodded in decision, seeming to defer to the teenager's opinion easily.

Potter sighed. Severus knew that sigh, it was one of frustration and resignation. This must have been an argument that had been had before. Frankly, Snape was wondering if Dobbins knew about Black or Lupin. He was certain they could muster up a galleon and would have less compunction than Potter at the offer. “I do not like this one bit,” Dumbledore grumbled, the twinkle far from his eyes.

“Aren’t I serving the purpose of your Order of the Phoenix in my goals?” Dobbins asked, again seeming confused that they were even concerned.

“We work for justice…” Dumbledore started.

“So, you plan to arrest Riddle?” Dobbins interrupted with a snort of derision.

“I fear it will be more difficult than sneaking up on the man and killing him,” Dumbledore finally sighed, giving in that, yes, the Dark Lord would eventually have to die. Snape knew it had something to do with the prophesy they were all protecting at the ministry, but what it was, Dumbledore had yet to share with anyone.

“Oh, most definitely,” Dobbins agreed. “I’m already working on it though. Now, if you will excuse me…Obliviate!”

Snape stared in shocked horror as Dobbins obliviated the most powerful wizard in the world, something that should be completely impossible. “Harry learned Occlumency from me as part of our detentions. I had his best interests at heart, even if my methods were a little misguided. I seemed contrite that I had broken some rules, but unrepentant that I helped Harry.”

Sitting back down, Dobbins grinned a bit manically at Harry and at Severus as Dumbledore blinked a couple time. Potter punched Dobbins in the arm hard. “You didn’t have to do that!” He hissed as they all waited for Dumbledore to come back to them.

“No, but I don’t want to have to deal with the headache he’d cause me later,” Dobbins said under his breath so that only Harry and Severus heard him.

“What about him?” Potter motioned to Severus who backed up closer to the door, ready to make a run for it, though he assumed he wouldn’t be fast enough for the assassin.

Dobbins looked him up and down before shaking his head. “Nah, he’ll be all right about it. He’s probably already trying to figure out a way to get Sirius and Remus to take out a contract on Pettigrew.”

Potter groaned and Snape looked on in shocked awe as that had actually been a thought he had. How did this man read him so well? “Well, please refrain from any gray, and especially dark, magics in the future, Fred,” Dumbledore remarked as he came back to reality.

“Of course, Headmaster,” Dobbins said with an ashamed glance down that was extremely believable. “I apologize for overstepping my bounds.”

“At least it all worked out for the good this time,” Dumbledore nodded with a smile and a twinkle at them all.

Severus was confused, horrified, and in awe of the power and the acting that had just manipulated a master manipulator. This fact alone led Snape to believe that the Dark Lord may not be as safe as he believed himself to be at this time. “Headmaster, I’m very tired,” Potter spoke up with a yawn. Another person who surprised Snape with his acting ability. “May I go back to bed now?”

“Of course, my boy. I think we should all turn in. Arthur should be well taken care of at St. Mungos by now,” Dumbledore stood and motioned them towards the door.

Once down the stairway and out in the corridor, Snape turned to Dobbins. The infuriating man held a hand up. “The portraits have ears,” he reminded. “I cast a silencing charm when I entered around the ones in the headmaster’s office, but now is not the time to discuss this in the hallway.”

Severus looked around, noting the many portraits and agreeing silently. “Potter, hurry back to the tower,” he growled at the boy.

“Actually, Harry, I’ll walk you back,” Dobbins offered to the teen's relief. “I don’t want you to accidentally run into Umbridge.”

Potter shivered at that thought and nodded in agreement. Snape hesitated. He shouldn’t let the child walk the hallways alone with an assassin, but he’d been in detention every night for months with the man and come out unharmed. As he stood there in indecision, he felt a wave of magic as a silencing ward went up. “Fine, if I must,” Dobbins said as he took out his wand and held it in front of him. “I, the unnamed, use my magic to bind myself. I swear to never knowingly seek to physically harm or kill this particular teen standing in front of me.”

A flare of magic bound the man. Snape narrowed his eyes. “That was a very oddly specific vow…and now I know your name is obviously not Fred Dobbins.”

Dobbins raised an eyebrow. “Of course, it isn’t. Why would I give my real name?”

“I would have preferred if you said you weren’t going to harm or kill Harry Potter,” the boy grumbled, causing Snape to reevaluate the vow. Why did that make a difference…especially to Potter? He was protected either way.

“Well, we can’t have everything,” Dobbins said wryly as he lowered the ward with a smirk. “Now, bed. You need to get ready to head to see Sirius. I’ll see you tomorrow, Snape,” he added as they walked towards Gryffindor Tower together, Potter linking his arm through Dobbins' like good friends.

Snape wondered why he had the feeling that Dobbins really hadn’t told him half of what was going on. And what was up with Potter acting Slytherin instead of the quintessential Gryffindor? He sighed in frustration. At this point, he just needed a shower, a drink, and bed…maybe not in that order.

Chapter Text

Over break, Dobbins was conspicuously gone for large periods of time. When he returned, he was usually travel worn and sometimes injured. Once, Snape had even heard him grumbling about “Bloody goblins and their bloody dragons,” as he stumbled towards his room after one of these trips, a smell of burned hair wafting in his wake. The suspense was killing him. He needed to know how Dobbins was doing with his contract. If someone could kill the Dark Lord, he was really hoping it was this assassin. Dumbledore seemed to be hanging some kind of hopes on the Potter brat, but who in their right mind would believe that Harry Bloody Potter would have it in him to kill anyone, let alone a Dark Lord? They were all doomed if that was the only way.

So, it was with his curiosity running rampant that Severus stood in front of the ancient and ornery portrait that guarded Dobbins’s rooms on Boxing Day with a bottle of wine under his arm as a belated Christmas present. “Is your master in?” Severus asked, really hoping the man wasn’t out on one of his ‘missions.’

“Young man, I answer to no one as master,” the old wizard crossed his arms and glared at the potions master with a glare that even Snape couldn’t achieve. “I will however convey the message that an impudent upstart is at the door,” the wizard said as he grumbled his way out of the painting.

Severus smirked at Dobbins when he entered the assassin’s chambers. “You really should complain to whoever thought that portrait made a good guardian,” he said, holding out the bottle of wine to the other man.

Dobbins laughed and accepted the wine. “That would be me. I found him in storage and replaced the annoying mermaid that was there before. I find him much easier to deal with.”

“Indeed, you would,” Severus smirked again. “Care to share a few glasses?”

Dobbins led the way to his bare seating area that only had a couch, a coffee table, an end table, and two armchairs, standard for the room. He conjured two wine glasses and poured a generous serving in each before handing Snape one.

Taking the glass, Severus got a good look at the calloused and tanned hand of the other man. Surprisingly, “I must not tell lies” stood out clearly in white scars across the back. “I see you have your own experience with a blood quill,” Severus remarked as he accepted the glass and sat in the armchair.

Dobbins self-consciously pulled his sleeve over it a little farther. “Yes, a lifetime ago.”

“I take it that was a lesson you didn’t learn well,” the potions master referenced the text.

The world-weary man gave a humorless chuckle. “You’d be surprised just how honest I am. Yes, I do occasionally lie, but I find honestly the more productive tactic in dealing with others. Most of the time they don’t believe me anyway.”

“Like with the headmaster,” Snape nodded consideringly. “You were honest, but then obliviated him. Why not obliviate me? I’ve been wondering.”

Dobbins scrutinized him for a bit. “You are an interesting character, Snape. I believe you would be one to more likely help me than stop my plans, as long as I stayed within your own brand of morals. I believe, for now, our goals align, so I see no danger in you knowing my plans.”

Severus studied him for a minute before a dangerous gleam flickered through his eyes. “Well, honest assassin, we have a full bottle of wine, it’s break, and there’s a comfortable fire in your fireplace. I propose a sharing of information…a truth for a truth, to see just where our goals align in this war. I have a feeling you already know a lot of my secrets surprisingly, and I hate to be at the disadvantage.”

Dobbins snorted. “I think you’ve had a bit too much of the Christmas spirit,” he replied. After taking another sip, he gave a small nod. “Ok, spy, I’ll agree to your terms. I must add my own though, no questions that seek to reveal my true identity or that of my employers.”

Snape nodded, knowing the man would never tell him that anyway. “Let’s start easy. How old are you?”

Dobbins looked at him in surprise with a little chuckle. “That’s your first question. Ok, sure, I’m 33, I think…It’s possible I lost count somewhere in there, and I don’t care to do the math right now.”

Yes, it was a simple question, but that answer was nowhere near simple. Who wasn’t sure about their age, and seemed to not be able to care enough to figure it out? “Your question?” Snape asked, studying the man over the rim of his wine glass.

Dobbins smiled, seeming to already know exactly what he wanted to ask. “Why do you hate Harry Potter?”

Snape repressed a grimace. “I don’t hate Potter,” Snape clarified. “I may strongly dislike him, but I do not wish to see harm come to him.”

“Ok, then why do you strongly dislike him?” Dobbins asked with a dismissive wave of his hand as if he's expected that answer.

“I had…history with his father that I admit may influence my behavior towards the boy,” Snape said honestly. “On his own merit though, the boy is arrogant, headstrong, spoiled, and has no regard for the rules.”

Dobbins nodded, seeming to accept this and file it away. “Why do you care for the boy so much?” Snape asked his own question.

“He’s an innocent,” Dobbins responded with a strange gleam in his eye. “He’s an innocent now, but with the way this war is going and the vested interest of Dumbledore and Voldemort (collective wince) he won’t remain an innocent for much longer. I wish to keep him the way he is now before his soul is destroyed.”

“Dobbins, I know you’re a masochist, but I’m not. Could you please refrain from using that name? Use Dark Lord or You-Know-Who or even Snake-Face if you must,” Snape absently rubbed his left arm.

Dobbins gave him a wry grin. “Of course, Snape. I’ll tame my masochistic tendencies just for you. It’s my question though now…If I were to give you definitive proof that Harry isn’t as you believe him to be, would you change your opinion of him, or are your beliefs too ingrained in your hatred for his father?”

Snape actually gave him the courtesy of considering the question. He had almost just answered with complete assurance that he would, but then questioned himself. Would he actually? “Maybe,” Snape said slowly. “If such proof existed, I would listen, but I don’t know that I could ever be persuaded to like the boy. I may change my base opinions of him somewhat though.”

Dobbins nodded, once again accepting the answer and filing it away. “I appreciate you being honest with me and yourself,” he added to Snape’s surprise.

Deciding to get at what he really wanted to know, Snape jumped right in. “Have you killed anyone else since Bellatrix Lestrange?”

Dobbins nodded and poured himself another glass of wine. “Augustus Rookwood is no longer with us…good riddance. Snake-Face probably doesn’t know yet though. Be prepared for an angry dark lord next time you’re called.”

Snape shuddered. He was not looking forward to that meeting. There was no possible way any Death Eater would be leaving without a crucio thrown at them. “May I ask a follow-up question about how?”

Dobbins pinned him with a glare. “It was bloody; that’s all you need to know.”

Snape nodded and poured himself another glass. “Rookwood was a piece of work. He wasn’t as bad as Bellatrix or Greyback, but he took great pleasure in others’ pain, especially women. I will gladly accept the crucio knowing he’s out of this world for good.”

“How do you think the war is going to end?” Dobbins asked his next question.

Snape sighed, here is where his pessimism was given full reign. He saw no hope in sight. “This war has been going on since I was a child. I see no good end to it. I would assume it will come down to Dumbledore and the Dark Lord one of these days. I find myself losing hope though that it’ll ever happen. I fear we may be fighting past my lifetime.”

Dobbins opened the drawer of the end table beside the couch and lifted out a glowing orb that he sat on the coffee table in front of them. “Is that a prophesy?!” Snape asked in shock, leaning forward to get a better look. He looked up at Dobbins’s smirking face and restarted his question. “Is that the prophesy?!”

“You know, I’m going to take that as your question,” Dobbins smirked at him again. “It is. Why you all just left it hanging out in the Department of Mysteries is beyond me. Your Order has some serious issues with strategy.”

“Only Potter or the Dark Lord could collect it,” Snape continued, staring at the orb in shock.

“Yes, Potter did collect it,” Dobbins nodded as Snape wondered at the sudden change to the boy’s last name when Dobbins had only ever referred to him as Harry. With frustration, the man continued, “Look, I don’t know what Dumbledore’s game is, but I don’t understand why he has you Order members guarding a prophesy in the ministry that Snake-Face wants when he could just have Harry collect it during normal business hours and put it in Gringotts or hide it out here at the castle. It’d keep things like Arthur Weasley from happening, or at least keep you all from having to lose sleep to be on guard duty. Seriously, is he gone daft?!”

“Does anyone know it’s missing?” Snape asked, agreeing whole-heartedly with the man, and also very concerned that he somehow had taken a student from the castle with no one noticing, especially the Boy-Who-Lived. How did this man know so much, and why had no one noticed Potter going missing for a day?!

Dobbins shrugged. “I didn’t tell anyone. I would certainly hope that someone looks at the shelf occasionally to make sure what they’re guarding is still there.”

“Do you know what it says?” Snape asked, knowing only Potter or the Dark Lord could activate it. He wasn’t sure if Dobbins would have had Potter activate it for him or not.

Dobbins nodded though to Snape’s dismay...so the boy knew it as well. “It tells how the war will end,” Dobbins answered. “It will not come down to Dumbledore and the Dark Lord, it’ll be Potter and the Dark Lord at the end. I thought you should know because I have sworn to protect the boy, and I know you have as well.”

“How do you know that?” Severus felt a chill run through his veins that everything was going to rest on the spoiled brat spawn of James Potter. He was beyond shocked that Dobbins knew about his vow though. He was sure only he and Dumbledore knew of that.

Dobbins shrugged. “Deathbed confession. Not important now though. Now, it’s my turn for a question. Let’s see…what did Petunia Evans think of her sister, Lily Evans?” He asked, suspiciously nonchalantly. This was leading somewhere...

Severus shook his head. “What does that have to do with anything? And how do you know that I know Petunia? Who is telling you all these things?”

“Is one of those your question?” Dobbins asked, taking a sip of wine with a smirk on his face.

“No,” Snape backed off, not knowing how long Dobbins would keep this honesty up with him so not wanting to waste a question. “She hated her sister. She called her a freak all the time and screamed at her anytime she mentioned something having to do with magic. It was almost a phobia with that banshee of a woman. Honestly, Lily was a little afraid of her by the time she finished at Hogwarts. I doubt they would have ever had contact again even if Lily had lived.”

Dobbins nodded. “We’re almost at the end of the bottle. I think one last question for each of us is fair. What’s your last question?”

Severus thought for a minute. He had so many questions. Finally, he settled on: “Why did you become an assassin? I don't remember that being a common option when we do career-counseling,” he smirked at the end.

Dobbins drained the last of his glass before turning his dead eyes on Snape. “I was raised my whole life to be an assassin. My life was ordered and manipulated to lead me to that one end goal. I denied it for years, ran from it even, but at some point, I snapped...I accepted what I am,” Dobbins looked over to the incongruous picture of him and two others on the mantle. Snape figured whatever had happened must have had something to do with the people in the photo.

“I’m well past what anyone would consider innocent these days and haven’t been for a very long time. Yes, I was led here, but my choices brought me here as well. I could have chosen another path; I could have chosen death. I chose to live though, and this is what I became,” he said with a wry motion to himself.

Severus picked apart the answer in his head for a minute, accepting the truth of it. He felt the same about some of his own choices. “Your last question?” He asked, setting down his empty wine glass.

“My last question I don’t actually expect you to answer,” Dobbins crossed his arms and looked searchingly at Snape who kept himself from squirming uncomfortably under the intense gaze with great difficulty. “It’s a question of logic…If what you’ve told me is true of Petunia Evans, and Harry Potter has lived the past fourteen years with Petunia and Vernon Dursley, how do you think she would treat the magical son of her hated sister?”

The room fell silent as Severus considered the question. Bloody hell, he thought to himself. Potter had been living with Petunia?! He’d been sure the boy had been passed off to a Potter relative or anyone else besides that horrible woman. He realized no one had actually told him specifically who Potter had been living with, just relatives. He hadn’t even considered Petunia because he fully believed that no one in their right mind who had talked to her for two minutes would give Petunia Evans custody of a magical child. “Bloody hell,” he repeated out loud.

“Goodnight Snape,” Dobbins smiled and stood to usher him out of the rooms. “Thank you for the wine and conversation. Be nice to Salazar on your way out, he really is a decent person, just a bit grumpy.”

Before he knew it, Severus was standing outside of Dobbins’s rooms and staring at what he now believed to be a portrait of Salazar Slytherin. “Well…you going to stand there all night like a gaping idiot?” the founder grumbled from where he was seated in front of a window in his portrait.

“You’re Salazar Slytherin?” Severus asked in awe.

“Yeah, yeah, don’t spread it around,” the man said gruffly. “This might be better than storage, but I don’t particularly want to be answering all the students’ questions for the next millennia either.”

Maybe it was the wine or maybe it was the shock of everything he just learned, but Snape found he just couldn’t process one more piece of information. So, he nodded to the Hogwarts founder and headed off silently to his rooms to join Dobbins in taking a Dreamless Sleep potion, something he rarely allowed himself to do but which he admitted would be needed after that conversation.

The next term started off similarly to the last in pain and annoyance. Severus was still nursing pained nerves from the furious Dark Lord’s rant, and resounding crucios, after realizing he had lost both Bellatrix and Rookwood. Also, the students seemed even more annoying than usual when they invaded the castle’s peace once more. Two days back and Longbottom had already blown up a cauldron! The only comfort he had was that there was no way in the nine circles of Hell that Longbottom would pull an O on his OWLs, so this would be the last year of having to deal with the potions terror.

After a couple trips to visit the portrait outside Dobbins’s rooms, Severus had decided that once Dobbins disappeared after fulfilling his contract, the founder was going directly back into storage. How one man could be so ornery and acerbic was beyond his comprehension. Dobbins seemed to get a great deal of humor out of that comment when Snape made it in front of him. Severus concluded that the assassin must have been cursed one too many times.

And then, the first sign of the apocalypse happened. Severus was stalking through the corridors on his way to the Great Hall for dinner when he heard running footsteps behind him. Quickly he ducked into an alcove to catch the student and deduct points for running in the hallways. The footsteps slowed as they came closer though and a very familiar drawl with an irritated edge resounded. “Potter, stop following me! I don’t want to be your friend!” Draco Malfoy exclaimed out into the almost empty hallway.

An out of breath Potter finally caught up to him and responded. “Well, I don’t particularly want to be your friend either you prat, but I think it’s time we stopped being enemies. There are things going on bigger than you and me now. Don’t you think it’s time we grow up?!”

Draco grumbled in annoyance and went into a room that Severus recognized as the men’s loo. He obviously seemed to think Potter wouldn’t follow him in. He was wrong. Potter gave a little shrug and pushed into the loo behind him.

Severus came out from the alcove and studied the door the two teens had disappeared into. Merlin would return and Albus would swear off lemon drops before Severus would enter the cesspool known as a student washroom. Those two alone in any room was a recipe for disaster though. Someone, or two someone’s, were going to need Madam Pomfrey’s care. The door opened once more and Severus stepped back into the shadows, a smirking Potter exited and continued on to the Great Hall without a scratch on him. Snape did not like that look on the boy. It was much too devious. After waiting a minute, Snape felt his resolve cracking. Maybe he should go in and check on Draco. Just then the door opened once more, and a contemplative Draco Malfoy exited like he had a lot on his mind.

Snape watched him walking towards the Great Hall. What would it mean for the world if Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy put all their animosity behind them? What if, Merlin forbid, they actually became friends? Deciding to forego dinner, Snape made his way back to his rooms where a bottle of wine seemed like the better plan for the evening. Maybe he’d take the bottle with him and see if a certain assassin, who never attended dinner, was any good at chess, yes, that sounded much more relaxing than the Great Hall.

Chapter Text

It was the end of March, and the History professor had successfully avoided almost all dinners in the Great Hall. He made an appearance for breakfast and lunch, but dinner, almost never. So, Severus was more than a little surprised when the man in question strode into the Great Hall just as dinner was getting started and plopped himself down dramatically in the seat beside the potions master. Dobbins gave his standard nod of greeting before beginning to load his plate with food.

“To what do we owe this pleasure?” Severus asked, noting that the man looked very irritated for some reason.

Dobbins grimaced. “Dumbledore,” he said by way of answer. After a minute, he sighed and seemed to decide to elaborate. “He keeps cornering me and asking me about my day or my classes. He insists I need to socialize more with the staff. I told him we play chess occasionally, but he seems to think you don’t count as socialization,” Dobbins grumbled. “It almost makes me wish I hadn’t obliviated him.”

Snape chuckled to the evident horror of several students who happened to be looking at the head table. “Of course, I don’t count. I’m the misanthropic dungeon bat. And, you know, if you hadn’t obliviated him, he would be much, much more annoying.”

Dobbins put down the pitcher of pumpkin juice to look at Severus better. “Yeah, that’s what I don’t get. He wants Snake-Face dead, so I don’t see why he has an issue with my methods.”

Snape shrugged, knowing the leader of the light had some very hypocritical views on what was right and wrong. “I think it’s more who you are than what you plan to do,” he said cryptically by way of explanation.

Dobbins nodded though. “Ah, the fact I’m getting paid for it is the problem,” he shrugged. “Oh well, it’s not like he’s really my boss anyway.”

“And that would be…”

“Nice try Snape,” Dobbins smiled at him as he speared a potato with his fork. “Not very Slytherin of an attempt though if I might give you come constructive criticism.”

Snape chuckled once more, causing the students to start wondering if he were ill. “Well, we can’t be at the top of our game all the time.”

Dobbins seemed to contemplate through a few bites of roast. “Speaking of…” he started, a dark gleam in his eye. “Yesterday was the full moon, right?”

Snape narrowed his eyes, worried about where this was going. “Yes, why?”

Dobbins shrugged and polished off the last of his roast. “Just thinking…all those werewolves out there would be pretty sore and under the weather today.”

“Uh huh,” Snape said slowly, now certain of where this was going.

“Well!” Dobbins said suddenly as he pushed his still full plate away. “I made an appearance. Tell Dumbles I said ‘hi.’”

“Dobbins,” Snape hissed, grabbing onto the assassin’s sleeve. “Be careful,” he warned with concern in his eyes.

Dobbins backed up, dramatically putting his hand over his heart. “Oh Severus, I didn’t know you cared!” He laughed as he exited the Great Hall.

Later that night, Severus couldn’t sleep. He was trying to read a potions journal on his couch, but he had read the same page at least three times. Greyback was extremely dangerous, day after the full moon or not. He wished he had asked Dobbins to stop by when he got back to the castle, just so he knew he was all right. At that thought, he was shocked at himself that he cared. Why in the world did he care if the anti-social assassin was all right or not?

After deciding, he was never going to answer that question, he began to wonder if it were weird if he just walked by Salazar’s portrait and asked the founder if Dobbins had gotten back in or not. That seemed a little excessive though too, in his opinion. However, he might be able to sleep if he knew the man was back in his rooms. Would the portrait tell him in the morning that Snape stopped by though? Would that be weird?

He still hadn’t decided if he were leaving his quarters or not, when the sound of someone shuffling in broke him from his reverie. “Snape, where are you?” A voice asked from the wall by the door. “You awake?...Move it you fur-ball!”

“Yeah, hello? You!” Snape exclaimed in surprise as he saw Salazar Slytherin shoving the black panther out of his frame by the door so he could enter the room. “What are you doing here? Is Fred well?!”

“You need to get down to the kid’s chambers he’s in a bad way. Bring potions,” Salazar instructed, a touch of concern in his voice before he rushed out of the jungle portrait once more, leaving a very disgruntled black panther.

Severus grabbed his medical bag he would take to the infirmary in emergencies and followed the painted founder out of his rooms without question. He anxiously rushed towards the History wing and his…friend’s?...quarters. Coming up to the room, the door opened immediately for him, Salazar having taken short cuts through the portraits back.

Severus rushed in to find a crumpled form leaning up against the couch in the bare sitting room. “Damn, I told him not to get you,” Dobbins grumbled from where he was holding a very red towel to his shoulder. “I promise I’m fine. You can go back to bed.”

“I wasn’t asleep,” Snape replied tersely as he sat quickly on the floor as well. He gently peeled the towel away from Dobbins’s shoulder as the man hissed in pain. “You seem to have been hit with a cutting curse that almost went deep enough to expose bone. Yes, that seems just fine. Sleep it off, no worries,” Snape continued sarcastically.

“Hey, at least he didn’t bite me,” Dobbins laughed dryly.

“Drink this and take off your shirt,” the potion master instructed, handing over a vial of pain reducing potion.

Dobbins downed the liquid but shook his head. “Just banish the shirt, it’s not salvageable anyway,” he instructed.

Once Snape had waved his wand and the blood-covered shirt was gone, he saw several more scratches, probably from Greyback’s claws. The red gashes bisected old scars that traced along every inch of the man's skin. Trying not to think about what he assassin must have gone through in his life, Snape sighed and immediately began treating the wounds. “He really did a number on you didn’t he?”

Dobbins shrugged. “I’ve had worse. Besides…it’s just Vol-er…Snake Face left now,” he added with a dark grin on his face that made Snape shudder against his will.

“The Dark Lord will not be happy at the next meeting,” Snape shook his head. Greyback gone was worth any pain though. The werewolf wasn’t a man; he was a pure monster. If Snape had to rank them, for depravity, he believed Greyback to be worse than the Dark Lord himself.

Dobbins waved a hand dismissively as if to say there was nothing he could do about that. “How long before you think this will all be healed?” He motioned to where Snape was now applying a large bandage.

“A couple days. I’d take it easy for a week though. Werewolf scratches take a long time to heal. I know the cutting curse was the worst, but those scratches are still deep.”

Dobbins smiled at the man. “Thank you, Snape,” he said sincerely. “I guess I could use a week off.”

“You know…” Severus started as he packed the empty potion vials back into his bag. “The students think you are an adequate history professor. If you wanted to retire when all of this is over…I don’t think they’d mind if you stayed on. Durmstrang must have had an excellent history program for you to just jump in like you have.”

Dobbins laughed and scooted up the couch so that he was sitting there instead of the floor. “Actually, I was pants at history, slept through class most of the time.”

The Potions professor sat his bag aside and joined the man on the couch. “Really? My Slytherins are always talking about how they learn so much in your classes,” he said, disbelievingly.

Dobbins laughed wryly. “Well, when I took on this contract, I knew Hogwarts was the optimal location for my placement. Armed with an over-powered exorcism spell, History was the easiest subject to take over.”

Snape nodded. “I figured you must have gotten rid of Binns to serve your purpose.”

Dobbins gave him an unapologetic look. “Yeah, well, you would be surprised at how much information you can cram in your head when you’re highly motivated and have a good tutor.”

“Must have been an excellent tutor,” Snape replied, still not really believing the man could so quickly get to such a high level in a subject.

Dobbins just laughed though. “Ergh! He was terrible! You know that all purebloods are taught history growing up. Well, if you can wade through all the supremacist crap, they actually know quite a bit, even with Binns’s horrible teaching. So, I just had to find a pureblood prat who hadn’t completely sold his soul to Snake-Face. It surprisingly wasn’t that hard. That and read a whole lot of books,” Dobbins’s face showed his dislike of that.

Snape thought about it a minute. Yes, Binns had been around so long that most of the pureblood families had taken over teaching history to their children. His Slytherins complained all the time about having to take the class. Not surprisingly, those complaints had stopped that year. “Regardless, you should consider staying on.”

“Um…I’ll think about it,” Dobbins remarked sleepily as the potions really began to kick in. “See you morning…Sev,” he mumbled as he laid his head on the armrest and closed his eyes.

Snape chuckled and stood with his bag. “I’ll let you get away with that name slip only because you’re so drugged right now.”

Dobbins grunted a laugh but didn’t respond. Still smiling, Snape exited the chambers and assured Salazar that his charge was still alive and would recover, not that the acerbic portrait thanked him at all.

“Severus, my boy!” Dumbledore exclaimed when Snape entered his office where Shacklebolt and Moody were already waiting.

“You summoned, Headmaster?” Snape drawled, irritated that he was taken away from his work, he had a time sensitive potion brewing in his office.

“Has the Dark Lord said anything recently?” Moody almost growled.

“About?” Snape prodded, crossing his arms stubbornly.

“The prophesy, man!” Moody exclaimed in frustration.

Well, it had taken…three months?...for anyone to notice by Snape's reckoning. The Order was definitely slipping in his opinion if no one had thought to check the shelf the all-important object they were protecting was on in months. “No, he has not,” Severus said simply. “He’s frustrated that he’s finding it difficult to get into the Potter brat’s head and he’s murderously furious that Greyback was found gruesomely slain a few days ago, but he’s said nothing about the prophesy.”

“Greyback is dead?!” Shacklebolt questioned with clear relief in his voice.

“Indeed.”

“My boy…” Severus hated Dumbledore’s favored term of endearment. “You see, the prophesy has gone missing.”

“Really?” Snape faked surprise at the news. “Do you wish me to tell the Dark Lord?”

“No, no!” Dumbledore shook his head. “If he doesn’t know, we should all act like it’s still there until we know what happened. Only he or Harry could have taken it though. If Voldemort doesn’t have it, then I do not know what happened.”

“Maybe your Golden Boy swung by the ministry over break,” Snape sneered in sarcasm, knowing it was actually true though.

Moody shook his head. “Black assured us he was in Grimmauld the entire time. It must have been something else.”

“Well, I don’t see how this is my problem. If you don’t mind, I have a potion that needs attending…” Snape made to leave.

“Of course, my boy. Make sure to tell me if Voldemort says anything about it though,” Dumbledore said unnecessarily.

Snape nodded to all three before striding back out of the headmaster’s office in a billow of robes.

Entering his office once more, Snape saw the History professor standing over his simmering cauldron stirring. “Dobbins, I swear if you’ve ruined my potion, I’ll skin you alive!”

Dobbins stepped back, raising his hands in fake surrender. “I just noticed it needed stirring, no need for violence,” the assassin laughed.

Severus looked in the cauldron and begrudgingly had to admit to himself that the man had probably saved it. “Dumbledore just discovered the prophesy missing,” Snape smirked at him.

Dobbins looked at him in consternation. “Three months! It took them three months! Really?! No wonder someone had to hire an assassin. The Order is useless!”

“I find their spies are fairly exemplary,” Snape smirked at him once more.

“Well…that goes without being said. Their spy is the only competent part of that organization,” Dobbins said emphatically.

Snape had no clue how to answer that. He had been joking, but Dobbins was dead serious. “What are you doing here?” He grumbled instead.

Dobbins held out a bottle of excellent and very expensive Scotch. “Care to share a glass?”

Snape narrowed his eyes before pulling two tumblers from a desk drawer. “What do you want?”

“What? I can’t just share a drink with a colleague?” Dobbins said in a fake, hurt tone.

“Firewhiskey, yes. Cheap wine, yes. Fifty-year-old Scotch, no,” Snape replied, but still poured himself a generous glass. “So, what is it you want?”

Dobbins poured himself a much smaller amount and sat in the chair beside Snape’s workstation. “Actually, I do need a favor.”

“Indeed,” Snape smirked at him over the top of his glass, savoring a sip.

Dobbins rolled his eyes. “I could use some potions. I’d brew them myself, but I figured if you happen to already have them on hand, it would save me a lot of time.”

Snape checked the clock and stirred his potion once more. “What are these potions you need?” He asked. “I will not be giving you any more Dreamless Sleep. I refuse to enable an addict.”

Dobbins huffed. “Yes, oh judgmental one. No, I don’t need Dreamless Sleep. I’ve stocked myself quite well thank you very much. I could however use two…no three pain relieving potions, extra strength, four blood replenishers, and two full jars of Essence of Murtlap. I gave the last of mine to Harry; I didn’t catch him before Umbridge last week.”

Snape raised his eyebrow in surprise at that list. “You know you’ve just recovered from your injuries. What are you up to this time? Are you going after the Dark Lord?”

Dobbins shook his head in the negative. “No, there are still a couple things I need to take care of before I go after Snake-Face. This is a related side-project.”

Seeing the look on Dobbins’s face that promised he would get no more information out of the man, Snape made his way to his potions stores and pulled down the ones the assassin asked for. “Don’t take them all at the same time,” Snape warned, hoping they were for multiple people.

Dobbins smirked at him. “I’m not an idiot,” he said, leaving the Scotch on the table and heading to the door.

Snape picked up the bottle. “Stop by after your side-project is finished. You can help me empty this bottle,” he offered.

“Most definitely!” Dobbins happily agreed.

Saturday morning, Dobbins was not at breakfast. This wasn’t highly unusual, but of all the meals he missed, breakfast usually wasn’t one of them. On the same note of being odd, Potter also seemed to be missing from breakfast, and his friends looked a little worried. Knowing it would be up to him to find the brat, Snape decided to swing by Salazar’s portrait first…just to check in, not that he actually cared or was worried. He just…wanted to know when the man would stop by for that Scotch, yeah, that was it.

“Salazar,” Snape nodded at the man who continued to frown at him menacingly. “Dobbins in?”

“Now’s not a good time,” Salazar narrowed his eyes.

Now Snape was a little worried. What would have the founder so protective? “Ok…well, can you tell me if he’s well?”

Salazar sneered at him before seeming to listen to something behind him. He faced forward once more, rolling his eyes. “Fine, he says you can enter, but be quiet,” Slytherin said regretfully as he swung the portrait open.

Confused, Severus entered the, now very familiar, rooms. Immediately, he noticed that a large fire was crackling in the fireplace and the room was very dark besides that. The second thing he noticed was a student curled up asleep on the couch. A very familiar student.

“Shhh, he’s sleeping,” Dobbins instructed Severus quietly by the door. He motioned for the potions master to follow him into the kitchen area.

“What’s Potter doing in your room?!” Severus exclaimed in an emphatic whisper, sitting at the kitchen table where Dobbins had already laid out things for tea. “Students aren’t allowed in professors’ chambers under any circumstances.”

“Oh please,” Dobbins rolled his eyes and picked up the kettle from the stove before it could whistle. “I already swore an oath to not injure the boy. He’s fine and will leave just as soon as he gets up. He was helping me with that side project, and it ran late.”

At this, Snape noticed that the slight tremor in Dobbins’s hands had gotten quite a bit worse as he tried to pour the water into a teapot. It took him a minute of concentration, but he finally, triumphantly poured in the water without spilling. “What happened to you?” Snape asked, running through possibilities in his mind.

Dobbins waved a dismissive hand. “Nothing. I’ll be right as rain tomorrow. I think I’ll let you pour the tea though,” he chuckled in a self-deprecating way.

“Is the Dark Lord dead?” Snape asked, expectantly. It seemed that every time Dobbins was injured, someone else had died.

“What? No,” Dobbins whispered in shock. “I’m still working on it.”

Snape nodded in a little disappointment. He picked up the teapot and poured for them. “Is it going well?”

Dobbins nodded and gratefully accepted his tea. “As well as can be expected. Erm…Severus…”

Snape looked up over the rim of his teacup, the man almost never called him by his first name. “Yes…Fred?” He raised an eyebrow.

“Maybe next time Snake-Face calls you…maybe you don’t want to answer,” Dobbins suggested.

“Will you be going after him then?”

“No,” Dobbins said assuredly. “I will be making him very, very angry though. You might not want to get caught in that.”

They drank their tea in comfortable silence for several minutes. “I can take care of myself,” Severus finally answered. “I’ll go prepared, but I won’t lose my position as spy.”

Dobbins nodded, already knowing what the man would say. “Just…take care of yourself, ok?”

Snape put down his teacup and stood. “I’ll see myself out. I’d hate to be here when the brat wakes up. Make sure no one sees him leave.”

Dobbins nodded. “Thank you for trusting me, Snape.”

Snape gave a quiet laugh. “You swore a binding oath not to hurt the boy. I don’t think that calls for any trust from me.”

“You know I don’t mean that,” Dobbins whispered back.

After a pause, Snape gave him a short nod and exited back to the castle. Severus hated how the man got under his skin. The History professor irritated him, challenged him, scared him, worried him, and then he goes and says something like that…something that almost made him want to…like?...the man. That was even more irritating than his constant need to be secretive and mysterious. He was starting to maybe, possibly, see a little hope that someone could end this war though. How Potter was going to factor in that was beyond the potions master, but Dobbins, now he was brutal enough to do something. Greyback had been utterly destroyed. If he could do that to one of the Dark Lord’s main enforcers, then Snape was looking forward to what he would do to the Dark Lord himself.

Chapter Text

Severus was counting down the days. It was just three weeks and Longbottom would no longer be in his potions class. Only three weeks to go. That was his mantra as he cast a scourgify over his robes, cleaning the goo from the menace’s exploded cauldron that seemed to cling to him. In just a few short weeks, he planned to hole up in his chambers with the rest of the bottle of Scotch Dobbins had given him and toast to no more Longbottom. Maybe he’d see if Dobbins wanted to join, he thought the man would like that. Longbottom probably was a menace in History as well…or there would be someone he could join in a toast for a good riddance to.

“Professor?” He heard over his running complaints in his head.

Snape turned around to see Potter standing at his desk when all the other students had left the room. He let out a sigh before focusing on the student. “Potter…what do you need?”

“I was wondering…sir…well, do you happen to know where Umbridge is?” The Golden Boy asked.

Snape didn’t even attempt to correct the student to call Umbridge ‘professor,’ she didn’t deserve it. “Am I the headmistress’s keeper?” He raised an eyebrow in question. Had she not been in class?

“Er, I just…well, she wasn’t in class today,” Potter continued with a strange look on his face. Severus couldn’t really place it, it was almost like…shame?

“Mr. Potter are you looking for more detentions with the woman?” Severus sneered. “She probably had to attend some sort of meeting at the ministry,” he added in dismissal.

Potter sighed deeply in relief, causing Severus’s curiosity to peak. “Potter, is there something I should know about?” He finally turned his full attention to the boy. “Is there a reason to believe the headmistress is not in fact attending some kind of meeting at the ministry?”

“Erm,” Potter awkwardly started. For Merlin’s sake! Could the boy not talk without hedging and stammering?! “Well…I was just thinking that she went missing, and well, there might be someone who might be angry with her and might wish her harm.”

“Literally everyone at this school and probably the ministry as well,” Snape couldn’t help a bit of a snort of amusement at that.

Potter glanced to the door. “I mean someone who might be able to make her disappear…” Potter said with everything besides two winks and air quotes to get his point across. The boy was not subtle.

“I doubt that’s what happened,” Snape held back an eye roll. Although, he definitely wouldn’t put it past Dobbins to kill the woman off, he was an assassin after all. He said he wasn’t after anyone at the school though…although, he could see the man making an exception for the toad of a woman. “I will however talk to our mutual acquaintance. I don’t believe there is cause for concern at this point.”

Potter nodded his head quickly in relief. “Thank you, Professor. I’d ask, but I think he’s much more likely to tell you the truth than me,” Potter said before rushing out of the room as if he were being chased.

Severus had another class before dinner, so he had completely forgotten the conversation with Potter when he sat down for dinner in the Great Hall. “Ah, Severus,” McGonagall gave him a genuine smile, which was odd in itself, but the woman seemed constantly irritated recently, so it was even stranger. “How were your classes today?”

He gave her a short nod and a suspicious look. “They were fine, Minerva. You seem in a pleasant mood.”

McGonagall leaned in conspiratorially. “Dolores has been away from the school all day. It’s almost like going on holiday. I hate that woman with every cell of my being!”

The earlier conversation came rushing back to the Potions professor. “Do you know where she has gone?” He asked, now thinking Potter might not be as far off as his initial thought.

“No one knows or cares,” McGonagall said, almost giddily. He never thought he would ever think ‘giddy’ and McGonagall in the same thought, but that’s where they were apparently.

“Excuse me,” Severus stood, leaving the rest of his food. “I just remembered something I need to attend to.”

McGonagall waved him off and turned her attention to a smiling Flitwick. Honestly, you would think the woman were the Dark Lord himself the way they were all going on. He grumbled all the way to the history corridor to face Salazar Slytherin. “Tell him I’m here…please,” he added the please after a vicious glare from the founder.

“Young man, in my day manners were actually attended to, and respect for one’s elders was upheld,” Slytherin glared.

Holding back an eye roll, Snape rephrased his question and imbued it with as much sarcasm as he could muster. “Lord Slytherin, would you please tell Professor Dobbins that Professor Snape would like to see him at his convenience?”

Slytherin’s glare turned into a glower as they stared each other down. Snape had no clue how or why he had gotten into a staring contest with a portrait, but he was going to win. “May I ask the purpose of your visit?” The portrait seethed.

Mentally planning to switch out Salazar with the mermaid from before just as soon as possible, Snape returned the glower. “I’m here to ask if your master murdered one of our coworkers today.”

At this Salazar blinked and Snape smirked triumphantly, until he realized that he was arguing with a painting and really hoped no one was watching this exchange. “I’m sure it was deserved if he did,” Salazar finally concluded with a nod as he swung forward to let in Snape.

“Merlin! He makes me want to be a Gryffindor!” Snape growled as he entered the chambers.

Dobbins looked up from where he was eating a sandwich over the essays he was marking. He had to put down the sandwich he was laughing so hard. “Snape…you do realize the two of you are exactly the same, right?” Dobbins said as he continued to laugh.

“I have nothing in common with that menace,” Snape crossed his arms and glared as he sat in the armchair across from the History professor.

“You keep telling yourself that,” Dobbins tried to pull himself together. He pushed over the plate with another sandwich on it. “You eat dinner? It’s yours if you want it. I’m not going to the Great Hall if you came here to ask. Dumbledore isn’t here, and I refuse to be ‘sociable.’”

Snape finally took the sandwich when his…colleague? Friend?...stopped laughing at him. He had taken two bites of the sandwich before the thought even occurred to him that maybe he shouldn’t be taking food from someone he suspected of murdering a co-worker. He shrugged mentally. For some reason, he knew he was safe, even if the man was a killer. “So, Dobbins, do you know where Umbridge is?” He asked, watching the man’s reaction. His nonverbals and expression gave absolutely nothing away.

“Not sure, Minerva seemed to be dancing through the hallways though,” Dobbins said unconcernedly.

Trying a different tactic, Snape started again. “Mr. Potter seems to think you might have had something to do with her disappearance.”

“Really?” Dobbins raised an eyebrow thoughtfully. “I guess it isn’t beyond comprehension. I’m surprised he would go to you with his concerns though.”

“He seems to think I’d have a better shot of getting the truth from you,” Snape realized the man never actually said he didn’t kill the headmistress in his reply.

Dobbins shrugged. “He knows we’re friendly, and he believes that friends tell each other things, like he does with Mr. Weasley and Ms. Granger. He’s naïve that way. It's a bit annoying, but I love him for it.”

Completely glazing over the fact that the assassin had practically called him a friend, Snape was becoming more and more certain that they would never find Dolores Umbridge ever again...except in a morgue possibly. “So, you had absolutely nothing to do with her sudden disappearance?”

“Snape, you know my contract wasn’t for Umbridge,” Dobbins gave him a smile that sent chills of fear down his spine.

“And, you would of course never kill someone that you didn’t have a contract on?”

Dobbins went back to his marking. “Only if it were for really good reason.”

If he hadn’t gone to Durmstrang, Snape was certain Dobbins would have been in Slytherin. He hadn’t once said either way if he had killed the woman or not but had answered every single question posed to him. “You really are a frus…”

Snape’s sentence ended in a hiss as he and Dobbins both grabbed their left arms. “You sure you want to go this time?” Dobbins reminded the spy of his warning from before about this particular meeting.

Snape frowned at him and crossed his arms. “Unless you have already killed the Dark Lord, I must go when called. If, however, you get me killed at this meeting, I will come back and haunt you until the end of your days,” Snape warned as he stood to leave.

“You’d have to get in line behind the multitude of other ghosts,” Dobbins said darkly as he stood to grab his cloak.

“You’re coming as well?” Snape asked in shock with his hand on the door.

“Didn’t I tell you?” Dobbins grinned at him mischievously. “I never come when called.”

The Dark Lord was insane, yes, but he seemed even more off balance from where Snape was uncomfortably kneeling on the hard, stone floor. He was still young, but this whole kneeling thing was really hard on his joints. It was time for the maniac to go just so his knees could get a break. Well, that and the almost boringly common crucios really did a number on a person over the years. “The boy’s mind is still closed to me. The old fool must have taught the brat Occlumency. Lucius, I believe we should revisit your suggestion.”

The elder Malfoy almost glowed as his master turned his attention his way. It made Severus sick. He’d never liked Lucius, and he could only hope that Draco would avoid the fate of becoming his father. “My lord, I…”

Before Lucius got any farther in his brown-nosing, a loud crack resounded throughout the ballroom at Riddle Manor where they were meeting. The sound was very similar to that of a portkey. Severus was thankful he was towards the back of the gathering as whatever had happened caused the Dark Lord to lose whatever sense he had left in his snake-like brain and start to rant and randomly hex those around him. Sheltering behind a column, Snape finally got a look at what had been dropped unceremoniously in front of the Dark Lord, most likely by portkey. The unmoving and bloody body of Nagini lay several feet from where her master was raving. As the hexes started turning to killing curses, many Death Eaters immediately apparated away.

“Lucius!!” The Dark Lord finally screamed as he dropped his wand to his side.

“M-my lord?” Malfoy said from where he was cowering on the floor.

“Come with me. Everyone else leave! We’re implementing your plan, and you had best hope it goes flawlessly!”

Severus was amazed he had avoided all the hexes and hadn’t even caught a crucio as he apparated back to the gates of Hogwarts. How Dobbins had gotten Nagini was beyond his comprehension, but he was right, he definitely made the Dark Lord insanely angry. What the assassin’s purpose was in killing the snake though was a mystery. Severus just hoped the man was back in his chambers and up for a glass of firewhisky. After dodging killing curses, Severus was always in the mood for a firewhisky.

After everything that happened and would happen, it was weeks later before anyone concluded that Dolores Umbridge was officially missing…never to be seen or heard from again.

Severus was relaxing in his office while waiting for the batch of wolfsbane he had been working on to cool. It had turned out to be a rare, good day. All the students were off gallivanting in Hogsmeade for the last Hogsmeade weekend of the year, and Severus had not gotten chaperone duty this time. It was just him, in his dungeons, with his potions, and the quiet. A perfect Saturday. An uneasy feeling started creeping up on him with that thought. Being a determined pessimist, something had to go wrong now. It was with a sigh of resignation that he heard hurried feet running towards his office. And here must be the confirmation of his beliefs that the day was too peaceful.

“Uncle Sev!!” Draco Malfoy bellowed as he rushed into Severus’s office, clearly out of breath.

Severus sat up straighter and prepared himself for whatever new catastrophe had fallen. “Draco, what has happened?”

“Potter!” Draco gasped out, sucking in large gulps of air. “Potter, they took him…the Death Eaters.”

“Death Eaters?” Severus was standing now, pulling out his wand.

Draco nodded his head vigorously, “I think my f-father was one of them. They just grabbed him in Hogsmeade.”

Immediately, Snape conjured his patronus and set a message to Dumbledore to call together the Order. “Draco, go back to the dorms. Tell no one what happened,” Snape told him seriously.

“Yes, Uncle Sev,” Draco rushed out of his godfather’s office, fear plainly written across his face.

Fearing the events unfolding around him as well, Severus rushed through the halls, only stopping as he approached the door to the History professor’s office. “Look, we know he trusts you!” Someone yelled from inside the office. “You have to do something!”

There were a much quieter response that Snape couldn’t make out as he walked up to the door. “We’re going too, and you can’t stop us!” Someone yelled back, someone that sounded much like Ms. Granger.

“Ms. Granger, Mr. Weasley, I would have absolutely no problem stopping you, and you will not be putting yourselves or others in danger by leaving this school,” Dobbins said in his voice that would have the hardest Death Eater quaking in his boots.

“He’s correct, Ms. Granger,” Severus said, entering the office to see a red-faced Ronald Weasley and a fuming Hermione Granger. “The Order had been notified. Your presence would only put Mr. Potter and others in more danger.”

“Professor, but…he was just taken. Grabbed from behind and apparated away,” Granger almost wailed at the potions master.

“I’m aware, Ms. Granger. Now stop these histrionics and let me and Professor Dobbins join those in trying to find Mr. Potter,” Snape stared her down.

“Either you will return to your common room this instant, or I’ll stun the both of you and leave you for Madam Pomfrey,” Dobbins said impatiently motioning to the door. “You are keeping us from going after your friend.”

With a sob, Granger allowed herself to be led away from the glowering Ronald Weasley. “Merlin, children!” Dobbins exclaimed as he threw his robe over his shoulders and strode from the room and towards the gates of Hogwarts, not even checking that Severus was following him. “Next person that stops me I’m stunning, no questions asked.”

“I came to tell you what happened, not to stop you,” Snape found himself jogging beside the shorter man who was almost flying in his haste. “Do you even know where you’re going?”

“Ministry,” Dobbins said tersely. “He still wants the prophesy.”

Snape sneered at thought. “We should have told him it was no longer there.”

“He’d probably just have done something even more dramatic then,” Dobbins said pushing open the gates as they approached. Two seconds later and the man had already apparated away.

Guessing at the destination, Snape apparated just a second later to the visitor’s entrance at the Ministry of Magic.

Severus was completely alone as he stood, staring at the phone booth entrance to the ministry. He was certain this was where Dobbins had apparated to. Where else could someone get into the ministry on a Saturday? Not stopping to think if this was a bad idea or if it would blow his cover, Snape entered the phone booth and made up some fake meeting with the Department of Magical Law Enforcement to get the phone booth to allow him entrance. Yes, he acknowledged, it was a very Gryffindor thing to do, but his friend was in there somewhere…and the boy he had sworn to protect, yeah him too.

The Death Eaters hadn’t even made it past the atrium. It looked like the Dark Lord was trying to possess Potter, presumably so the boy would be the one registered by the ministry as having taken the prophesy. Severus was surprised Dobbins had done such a good job teaching the dunderhead Occlumency that the Dark Lord was struggling to get in his mind. They were locked in a silent struggle, the boy held tightly by Lucius Malfoy as the Dark Lord stared into his eyes, sweat beading on both their brows.

“Tut, tut, tut, Tom,” a familiar voice drawled loudly through the atrium. Severus’s head whipped around as he saw Dobbins leaning nonchalantly against a door that Snape was fairly certain led to where the Unspeakables worked. “If you wanted the prophesy, you should have just asked,” Dobbins was tossing the glass orb up and down in one hand.

“Who are you?” The Dark Lord snarled, his eyes leaving Potter and greedily looking at the orb.

“I’m no one of consequence, just a History professor,” Dobbins shrugged and continued to toss the orb.

“You will bring me that prophesy, immediately,” the snake-like man commanded with venom.

“Of course…oops,” Dobbins purposefully missed catching the prophesy with a fake look of shock on his face as it shattered at his feet.

“Nooo!” The Dark Lord and several Death Eaters all screamed at the same time.

As a wispy mist began to rise from the shattered orb and take shape into a woman, Dobbins gave a fake cough and a wave, dispelling the mist and banishing the prophesy. “Ergh, smoke, always messes with my sinuses. I really hope that wasn’t terribly important.”

“Kill him!” The Dark Lord screamed as he shot his own killing curse at the empty spot where Dobbins had stood one moment before.

Almost simultaneously, there were two loud cracks. The first, Harry Potter disappeared from where he was crumpled on the floor. The second, none of the Death Eaters could see where it was or what had happened. Severus, on the other hand, saw Harry Potter appear just behind where he was hiding by the welcome desk. “Mr. Harry Potter, sir. Dobby has you. You’s safe,” Dobby, the house elf cooed to the boy who looked like he had just come through on the other side of several Cruciatus Curses. Snape quickly cast a notice-me-not ward around the three of them, knowing it wouldn’t fool the Dark Lord for long.

“How did you get here, Dobby?” Potter slurred as he squinted at the house elf in confusion.

“I’s always come when Mr. Harry Potter, sir calls me,” Dobby said with a smug smile on his face. “I’s keep you safe. You stay with Dobby.”

“Yes, keep him here, Dobby,” Snape instructed the elf as he watched the Death Eaters rush through the atrium chasing the apparating and disapparating form of the History professor. Snape smirked, he guessed the man must have never heard that apparating in the Ministry of Magic was impossible, the same as Hogwarts. He quickly stood and cast a stunner at a Death Eater who came right up behind Dobbins.

Moving back behind cover, Snape decided to make his way closer to the lifts where the brunt of the Death Eaters seemed to be gathered. A thin hand shot out and grabbed his wrist. “Be safe, Professor,” green eyes bore into his own, willing him to be careful.

“Stay hidden,” Severus answered, pulling the hand from his arm.

Sneaking around the marble columns, Severus used the chaos caused by the wild firing of hexes from the Dark Lord and the taunting assassin almost dancing around the atrium to come up almost level with the door Dobbins had originally been found leaning on. “Sectumsempra!” Malfoy screamed just as Dobbins appeared a foot in front of Snape.

“Protego!” Snape cast blocking the curse as it hurtled towards the assassin.

“Snape!!” The Dark Lord yelled maniacally. “Traitor!!”

“Good one, Sev!” Dobbins called out and cast his own cutting curse that slashed across Malfoy’s chest. He fell to the ground, alive or dead, Snape was not sure.

For what felt like three hours, but which was more likely just a couple minutes, Snape and Dobbins fought back-to-back, blocking and casting as the Death Eaters and the Dark Lord surrounded them. Dobbins was holding his own as Snape had seen no one else do, blocking for himself and for Severus occasionally. Snape himself was starting to tire quickly. It was with the most relief he had felt in his life that he saw the wall of floos flare to life in the atrium and members of the Order of the Phoenix stream out to engage with the Death Eaters.

“You!” The Dark Lord snarled, looking at Dobbins with more hatred that he even seemed to feel towards Dumbledore. “You’re mine!”

Severus made to step in front of Dobbins but gasped as a wall of air hit him and he slid across the floor to behind the Order members. Breathing air into his empty lungs, Snape saw Dobbins lower his arm having shoved his friend out of the way, because, yes, Severus was Dobbins’s friend, and Dobbins was his, there was no other way of looking at it at this point.

“No, you’re mine,” Dobbins said darkly, glaring at the snake-like man. "Always have been..."

After casting curses and spells that Snape had never heard of in his life, Dobbins and the Dark Lord seemed evenly matched. They had only been dueling for a few seconds, but it had to have been more impressive than even Dumbledore’s duel with Grindelwald. Snape smiled, the Dark Lord was tiring, Snape could tell he was winded, and Dobbins seemed to not even have broken a sweat. His friend was going to win. He would live.

In a moment of pure terror and confusion, Dobbins looked over at Snape, a sad smile on his face. He gave a little wave of his hand and a shrug of his shoulders. “Avada kedavra!” The Dark Lord screamed out into the atrium.

One second passed, maybe it wasn’t even one second, before Dobbins’s scream was heard, “Avada kedavra!”

The two jets of green light passed each other in the air, never connecting, not interacting at all. They both flew true. The first spell struck Dobbins and time seemed to stand still as he fell to the ground. Just as the sickening thud sounded, the second spell hit its target and the Dark Lord in an almost mirror image fell the opposite direction to the ground as well.

“Noo!!!” The yell was heard throughout the ministry, but it took a while for Snape to realize it was coming from him.

Snape rushed through the Death Eaters that seemed to be stunned and quickly losing their will to fight at the death of their leader. A black headed teen was similarly rushing through them, a sobbing house elf close on his heels. “No, no, no, no,” Severus felt for a pulse and started CPR, knowing there was nothing that was going to bring back his friend.

“No, you can’t leave me!” Potter sobbed, grabbing onto Dobbins’s hand. “Come back! Please!”

“Voldemort is dead. It’s time for you all to surrender!” Dumbledore’s voice called out from where he was crouched over the Dark Lord’s body to all the Death Eaters, minutes too late to save their hero.

Severus Snape sat in stunned mourning in the kitchen of Number 12 Grimmauld Place. He was seated at the table in the corner of the room, right beside Potter, and the kitchen was filled with all the members of the Order of the Phoenix. He couldn’t believe it was true. The war was over, and the Dark Lord was dead…but that couldn’t be right. Dobbins had said the prophesy stated it would come down to the Dark Lord and Potter. It was Dobbins though, and neither made it out alive.

A wave of grief washed over Severus. It had been a long time since he would have called anyone his friend. He didn’t know how the mysterious assassin had gotten there, but he was undoubtably one who Snape would classify as a friend. But how, if Dobbins was so sure about the prophesy, how had it happened? He had only to look at his left arm though to know it must be true. The Dark Mark was completely gone, and that could only mean the Dark Lord was gone as well. “Voldemort,” he said out into the room causing everyone to turn and look at him. Snape showed them his blank arm. “It doesn’t hurt to say it anymore,” he explained in a daze.

“That’s wonderful, Professor,” Potter smiled at him, deep sadness in his eyes. The boy was mourning a lost friend as well. It had taken several Order members to pull them away from Dobbins’s body when the aurors arrived. Both were distraught, and the house elf, Dobby, had needed to be given a mild calming draught that he was sleeping off in the parlor.

“I’m sorry for your loss,” Snape said without thinking first, just responding to the hurt in those green eyes, so much like Dobbins’s.

“I’m sorry for yours as well,” Potter nodded in understanding, the weak smile still on his face.

“So, it’s really true,” Remus Lupin stated from where he was sitting between Sirius Black and Nymphadora Tonks. “It’s finally over.”

“I don’t know how,” Dumbledore said at a loss for maybe the first time ever. “But, yes, it seems that it really is over this time.”

“What was his name again? Davids?” Moody asked the room.

“Dobbins. Fred Dobbins,” Severus said clearly and sternly out into the room for all to hear. “His name is Fred Dobbins.” To his utter shock and surprise, Potter grabbed onto his sleeve, either trying to comfort Snape or himself, he wasn’t sure.

“I for one plan to sleep for the next week,” Black sighed in relief. “Then, I’m going to storm the ministry and demand a trial since they captured Pettigrew.”

“Tonks,” Lupin turned to the woman beside him. “Would you like to go to dinner with me next week?”

At that everyone, began talking amongst themselves excitedly. It seemed that Tonks must have answered in the affirmative, though Severus couldn’t hear over the noise, because Lupin was grinning like an idiot. He and Potter were the only ones subdued, lost in the grief for their missing friend. Snape watched as Potter reached out and poured himself another cup of tea. Breath catching in his throat, Severus stared at the boy’s hand. The hand that very clearly had carved in the back in white scars: I must not tell lies.

He saw Potter catch the direction his eyes were staring in and he flexed his hand with a small, knowing smile towards his professor. “I wonder…” Snape had to clear his throat before continuing. “I wonder if he ever told you who hired him.”

Potter nodded. “Yes, just before he moved the last horcrux that Voldemort had made from me to himself.” Snape stared at him in shock. “Voldemort had made several horcruxes to keep himself alive. They are vessels to store your soul in. He tracked them down and destroyed them this year. It’s why the prophesy said it had to come down to Harry Potter and Lord Voldemort. Harry Potter was a horcrux, accidentally made when the killing curse rebounded off me,” the boy continued. “He destroyed all the other horcruxes, making sure to transfer the one in me to himself.”

Gripping the table so tightly his knuckles were white, he asked again. “So…who hired him?”

“George Weasley and Neville Longbottom,” Potter responded in almost a trance as a tear streaked down his cheek. “The war…the war had too high of a cost. They’d lost it all. Harry everything, then he lost himself. They found him and gave him a new purpose."

Harry turned haunted eyes to Severus and gave a humorless gasp of laughter. "Apparently, there’s a plant that can be developed into a potion that makes time travel over many years possible...or so I was led to believe anyway. I guess we’ll probably never see that potion developed now though.” Potter finished, looking to the happy faces of Fred and George Weasley as they joked around with Black in the opposite corner of the room.

“No, I don’t believe we will,” Severus studied Potter for a minute feeling loss and betrayal and also hope. “I’ll miss my friend,” he finally said quietly. “But…I’m happy we’ll never have reason to meet him again.”

“I am too, Professor. Believe me, I am too,” Potter sighed in relief. "I guess I should clean out his rooms when we return. He had no one else."

"He had me," Snape said quietly. He had to clear his throat past the lump that had formed. "He had me...I'd like to help."

Harry sighed with almost a smile. "Thank Merlin. I had no clue what to do with an entire cabinet of Dreamless Sleep potions. Lord knows I don't think I'll ever be able to take it again knowing what I do now."

"Indeed," Snape agreed. "There's a picture I think he'd like you to have on his mantel. It seemed important to him."

They sat there in silence, taking in the celebrations of those around them. After a minute, Harry added softly, “I think I’d like be a healer after graduation.”

Severus nodded in understanding. Though he may not have lived it, the boy knew it had happened in one version of history. He had been a killer, though thankfully he never would be now. “That sounds like a worthwhile ambition. Let me offer my services to help you achieve your dreams.”

“Thank you, Professor. I appreciate it,” Potter nodded and the two of them sat in silence and looked on as the Order celebrated and the assassin that had changed their lives at the cost of four galleons and a potion was forgotten.

As he looked at the green-eyed boy beside him, Severus concluded that it was possible…maybe even probable…that despite it all, Severus Snape might be becoming an optimist.