Disclaimer: Everything here is the property of JK Rowling, Warner Bros, etc. I'm just having fun with the characters, particularly Snape.

With much thanks to Jean for helping me to make sense out of this chapter in the first place, and to Thirteen Ravens for input on stronger chapter endings.

The Tortured Soul

by 'purpleygirl'

… my grief lies all within;

And these external manners of laments

Are merely shadows to the unseen grief

That swells with silence in the tortured soul.

– William Shakespeare

The Tragedy of King Richard the Second (IV, i)

Chapter One

Fifteen minutes into dinner, Snape was regretting not going straight back to his office. He could be setting tomorrow's homework. He could be picking apart today's deplorable efforts to describe 100 Uses for Newts' Eyes. But instead here he was, surrounded by moronic babbling with a full plate in front of him and a blinding headache coming on.

A flash caught his eye. At the Gryffindor table, Potter's head had turned, his glasses shining. He was looking more and more like his father as the years went by. And becoming just as arrogant and complacent as he had been.

Snape had thought the boy was the only thing left of James Potter. But he had been wrong. There had been – there was – something else. And it was even worse than the boy. And Snape was carrying it. He had been carrying it all this time.

Pomona Sprout was waffling beside him about poisons. '...when he saw it wasn't working, he used the goat's stone. I think it's marvellous.'

'It does not cure everything,' he ground out.

'Well, no—'

'Some poisons run too deep for extraction.'

'Well, yes...' She started rambling again.

He went over Dumbledore's words from the previous hour. There had to be something in them he had missed, or misunderstood. He had to have been mistaken. But it was all too clear he wasn't, and Dumbledore had shown him the results of his covert test. He ought to have known better than to have let Dumbledore take the signature of his magical core last month. For the school records, he had said. He had assumed the Headmaster was protecting the school against the effects of Polyjuice or glamours, after the fake Moody last year. But he should have known Dumbledore had something else up his sleeve. Something far from straightforward.

And then he had watched as his own traitorous wand aligned perfectly again and again with the tested sample he had insisted Dumbledore produce.

He should have known something was in the air when at Dumbledore's request he had gone to his office after today's classes and he had found him tense and distant, fingering a standard letter informing Summerby's parents of a minor injury incurred during Quidditch.

If Dumbledore had not wanted to tell him, then he shouldn't have. He could have continued as normal without the knowledge. Why, then, had Dumbledore pressed it upon him?

The truth, he had said. The truth was important. It would be discovered eventually, he had said, perhaps in worse circumstances. 'They,' Dumbledore had told him, '– the few others who know – said it would be better if you were not told of this. It changes nothing, you understand. I, however, believe I know you better than any of them.'

When he had said it would be a shock, Snape had thought himself prepared – he had successfully negotiated enough difficulties, of both great and little concern, over the course of his life. But he had thought wrong.

Snape had almost forgotten that the Death Eater captured by the Ministry a few months ago had been the same one who had accompanied him with the Dark Lord to Godric's Hollow. Or perhaps he had not wanted to remember.

But this Death Eater did. And he had been talking.

'He talked of Voldemort's loss of a loyal servant years ago. But he was not prepared to let this servant go so easily.'

Snape had listened with some disinterest to Dumbledore between his frequent pauses.

'His death occurred in Voldemort's presence, and so he carried out a powerful spell to make sure he did not lose him forever.'

This had roused Snape's interest. But it had belied what was to come.

'Voldemort must have planned for such an eventuality, because he would have had little time before his Death Eater went beyond his reach forever. The man's mind was dying, his life force – the soul – gone. That is when Lord Voldemort used his spell, before the mind was dead, because it was essential that his servant remained his servant. He would have been useless to him otherwise.'

There was another flash across the Great Hall. Potter was getting up, Miss Granger and Weasley following him like lost puppies.

'Because the Killing Curse had been used, the soul had been instantly expelled. Voldemort knew that restoration of the body would leave it alive but soulless, resembling a victim of the Dementor's Kiss. Quite worthless to Voldemort. But this is what makes his spell unique. With it he was able to quickly take the soul of a nearby living person – the very person who had killed his Death Eater – and transfer it to the deceased, thus restoring him fully, and leaving him utterly unaware of what had just transpired.'

It was the Darkest magic. Difficult to employ, and fraught with risks. The Dark Lord would have enjoyed using it.

'Have there been any adverse effects?' he had asked Dumbledore, intrigued to know which Death Eater the Dark Lord had thought worthy of the dangers.

'None at all.' Dumbledore had hesitated, and Snape should have known then, when the blue eyes were piercing into him. 'But the soul retains only echoes of the person. And they are unreachable, I think. It is the mind that makes the person. The soul is simply the life force through which the mind is able to work. As you know, the soul serves a greater purpose to the wizarding world as it is the seat of the magical core.'

'So who was it? When did it occur?'

Dumbledore's pause had been slight but significant. 'It occurred at Godric's Hollow.'

Snape had stared while he fought the compulsion to search his memories. 'You mean he – Flintoff – he has another's soul in place of his own?' Snape had never really known the man now telling all to the Ministry – as an overzealous and careless Death Eater, for the last decade Flintoff had been circling Europe away from the Ministry's clutches, and now he had a long stay ahead of him in Azkaban. But the greatest shock came from Dumbledore's reply. Because he and Flintoff had been the only Death Eaters present with the Dark Lord that night.

'No, Severus.'

Potter was edging through a small gathering at the door. The short, scruffy black hair soon disappeared. The chattering in the Great Hall was rising to unbearable levels. Empty plates had been pushed aside and goblets were being refilled while the sound of childish laughter echoed around the tables.

'But I remember that night. Don't you think I remember it?'

'Do you? All of it? Have you seen – have you used a Pensieve?'

'I said I remember it. I have no wish to relive it.'

'But, I think, your memories are not as seamless as you believe.'

'Very well. As you seem to insist on this. Even supposing... Whose soul did the Dark Lord take?'

'Of course,' Professor Sprout said next to Snape, 'I always favour Glumbumble treacle to counteract the effects of Alihotsy leaves, but some people—'

Snape rose, leaving her gaping up at him, a mouthful of food on display. He marched along the staff table.

'I saw him dead on the floor. I watched James Potter die.'

'Did you, Severus? Is that what you remember?'

He passed behind Dumbledore, now engrossed in animated conversation with Minerva. Yes, everything was simply as normal.

'Perhaps my Pensieve—'

'No.' Snape had pushed back the chair as he got to his feet, unhearing its deafening scrape and Fawkes's squawked protest. 'You have demonstrated your little test.'

'Severus, you understand—'

'If that is all you wished to tell me, Dumbledore?'

He had noticed that Dumbledore's tension had gone. He had seemed quite serene as his gaze searched him. 'He couldn't lose you, Severus,' he had said quietly. 'Not then.'

Snape pushed his way through the giggling Ravenclaws blocking the Great Hall door.

Dumbledore had insisted it meant nothing. Snape had been living for fourteen years with another's soul without his knowledge. His brain and memories told him he was still himself, and there was no reason for that to change.

But of course it meant everything. Because only yesterday Snape had believed that there was nothing left of James Potter but the boy. And he had been wrong. The soul he had unknowingly had all these years instead of his own just happened to be James Potter's.

-x-

Harry wandered down the corridor. Divination had finished early after Trelawney had failed to turn up ('due to unforeseen circumstances,' Ron had joked) and the much more level-headed Madam Hooch had tried valiantly, but ultimately in vain, to fill in for the eccentric witch.

He turned a corner. To the left led to the Headmaster's office; as he passed he glanced up. Underneath a torch stood Dumbledore, with Remus Lupin. The two were deep in conversation.

Harry deliberated. He had some unexpected free time on his hands before Transfiguration class, and he hadn't seen Lupin for ages. He watched them talking and edged back. Maybe it was something to do with the Order?

'...and so perhaps you could talk to him, Remus,' he heard Dumbledore say. 'I don't think he would really do it, but he's not thinking rationally. Tom would be very angry if he did indeed leave the school now...'

Were they talking about Snape? A rumour had started going around the school that he was planning on leaving – and for good – but Harry had thought it was just a few desperate people fanning the flames of wild hope. Everyone wanted to believe it, but no one did. Snape seemed to be as much a part of Hogwarts as Peeves and his annoying pranks. It was just something you had to grit your teeth over and put up with.

But wouldn't he have something fantastic to report in Transfiguration, if it were true?

His curiosity finally got the better of him.

'I'll speak to him after dinner tonight,' Lupin replied in a weary voice.

'Good. Thank you, Remus. I do realise that all this must be hard for you to take in also. Ah, Harry,' said Dumbledore on noticing his approach. 'Good afternoon. Remus is kindly visiting us as he passes through.'

'Professor,' greeted Harry; he grinned at Lupin, who despite his returned smile seemed tired and anxious.

'How are you feeling today?' asked Dumbledore.

Harry knew he was referring specifically to his scar, which had been hurting more and with greater frequency recently. Dumbledore had voiced his concern about the link he had with Voldemort, but had been unable to offer any solution to its regular painful twinges. 'Not too bad, sir.'

Although Dumbledore gave him a smile of reassurance, Harry couldn't help but notice the hint of concern in the blue eyes that twinkled as his face creased around them.

'Well, I will leave you two to it,' said Dumbledore. 'Harry, Remus.' He nodded to Lupin before making his way down the corridor.

Harry turned to Lupin. 'How long are you here for, Professor?'

'Oh, not long. I'm just passing through,' he said, repeating Dumbledore's explanation. 'And anyway, Harry, call me Remus, seeing as I'm not your professor any more.'

Lupin's smile was warm, and Harry couldn't help feeling sorry for the man who'd lost the Defence Against the Dark Arts professorship just over a year ago because of Snape. He felt a sudden need for it to be true that Snape was leaving Hogwarts. He wondered whether to ask Lupin if he knew anything about the rumour, but while he considered how to put it, Lupin asked, 'So, how are things?'

'Oh. You know. The usual. Keeping away from trouble – so far.' Lupin gave him a knowing smile, and Harry added, 'Potions classes aren't so great, though.' He watched Lupin to see if this might provoke good news. But to Harry's dismay, the weary expression that Lupin had worn earlier returned, making the already thin man appear to have aged several years in the space of a few seconds.

'In what way?'

'Sna— Professor Snape is ... well, he's singling me out even more, if you can believe it. I mean, I could just about take it before when he talked about my dad like that. So Snape hated him when they were kids, fine. But now ... I don't know ... it just seems to be getting worse.' His intention of trying to get Lupin to confirm or deny the rumours about Snape forgotten, Harry's mind instead went over again all the stuff Snape was now doling out without fail in each class.

'He keeps bringing my dad up when I make the tiniest mistake. He doesn't let more than a few minutes go by without telling me what he thought of him. Loud, so everyone can hear. You know, the usual rubbish about him being arrogant, spoilt, big-headed. He doesn't even notice he's repeating himself. He looks like he's about to explode sometimes. And Draco Malfoy's having a field day. He looks forward to Potions – I can see it on his face when I get to class.' The funny thing was, Malfoy seemed to be the only one enjoying it. Snape simply became more and more crazed as he went on one of his tirades.

'Oh, no.' Lupin sighed. 'I'll tell you what. I'll have a word with Professor Snape, but I won't mention names or specifics. All right?' He put a hand on Harry's shoulder.

Harry nodded without enthusiasm; he knew it wouldn't change anything anyway, given that Snape and Lupin didn't get along all that well – even before Snape had succeeded in getting him sacked from Hogwarts.

Then he remembered what he'd wanted to ask about Snape earlier, and he wondered why, in that case, Dumbledore had invited Lupin of all people to try to talk Snape out of leaving the school.

'Keep out of trouble, then?' Lupin began to move away. He was offering over a smile again, though it did not reach his eyes.

On the verge of mentioning the rumour, Harry instead decided against it for now; Lupin looked like he needed a rest. Harry nodded and returned his smile. He must have had a long journey, Harry thought, as he watched Lupin trudge away.

Later, in an empty Gryffindor common room, he told Hermione what he had overheard.

'It does sound like there might be something to the gossip there's been about Snape,' she said. 'But why get Lupin here to talk to him?'

'That's what I can't understand either.'

Hermione still had a thoughtful expression when Ron came through the door. 'Harry's just told me Lupin's here,' she told him.

'Oh, yeah? What for?' he asked Harry as he plonked himself down in a chair.

'I don't know,' Harry admitted. 'He said something about being in the area, but I don't think that's all there is to it, especially after what I heard Dumbledore say to him.'

Before he could answer Ron's questioning look, Hermione cut in. 'Dumbledore told Lupin that Snape's thinking about leaving Hogwarts.'

Ron sat up. 'So it's true?' he asked, wide-eyed and gaping at the two of them. 'The greasy git's really off?'

'Well, I think it was Snape they were talking about,' Harry said. 'I mean, Dumbledore did mention Voldemort, and Snape's the only one people are saying—'

'WOW! We should throw a party!'

'Ron, you can't tell anyone about this.' Harry gave him an insistent look. 'I overheard it, remember? We're not supposed to know Snape's leaving. And besides, Lupin's here to talk him out of it.'

Ron looked like he'd just swallowed a snitch. 'To talk him out of it? Why the hell would Lupin do that to us?' He fidgeted on the edge of his chair. 'We've got to do something,' he said in a rush. 'He's gonna ruin everything.'

'Honestly, calm down,' said Hermione. 'Harry's right – we can't go around confirming this rumour now Lupin's here. We'll just have to wait and see what happens.'

'You do remember the last Potions class?' Ron was looking between them as though they were talking gibberish. 'That one really took the biscuit. I didn't think Snape even had a right side of the bed to get out of, but he managed to find an even worse side yesterday.' He rubbed his arm where at breakfast he had shown off the ghost of a bruise.

'How could anyone forget?' said Hermione. 'We've never lost that many points so soon in the year before.'

'Never mind the points,' said Harry. 'What about all that about my dad? It was like he was seeing red or something. He couldn't stop. And right in front of the whole class.'

She looked mortified. 'Well, of course that was dreadful. I meant that too. And he shouldn't have kept you behind to clean up the mess—'

'—by hand,' put in Harry. 'He took away my wand just so he could watch me scour it by hand.'

'And it was obvious Malfoy had done something to your potion,' said Ron, who didn't seem to notice Hermione's grateful look his way. 'Malfoy took advantage of whatever had got up Snape's nose. I swear Snape was hearing things. Why else would he have chucked me out of class for just breathing?' He rolled up his sleeve and turned his arm around as though admiring where Snape had physically flung him out of the room. The reddish-purple spot looked suspiciously like a freckle.

'You did call him a git,' said Harry.

Ron looked offended as he covered his arm again. 'Only once. And you'd have needed to have been a bat to have heard it. I forgot he basically is an overgrown one. I mean, what did he expect? That I was just going to stand there and let my best mate get slagged off like that?'

'Anyway, you were lucky you were thrown out when you were — it went downhill from there.' Harry saw Hermione was pulling an odd face, and he added, 'Points as well as stupid name-calling.'

Hermione relaxed, relieved to have had the unwarranted points-deducting confirmed. She nodded solemnly.

'But why would he want to leave Hogwarts?' Harry frowned in thought. 'And why get Lupin here to talk to him about it? Has Snape fallen out with Dumbledore over something?' He shook his head. It didn't make any sense. 'Why would he want to leave now, with the Order of the Phoenix reformed? And it can't be a coincidence he's been blowing up in classes recently.'

'Who cares why?' said Ron. 'If Lupin wasn't your friend, I'd have him Stupefied until Snape had packed his things, got on his broomstick and gone.'

'Ron!' scolded Hermione. 'If Professor Dumbledore's worried enough about this to bring someone else in ... and, well, maybe Harry's right — Lupin and Snape are both in the Order, aren't they?'

'You think he's planning on becoming a Death Eater?' Ron recoiled in mock horror with his fingers at his mouth.

'Really, Ron,' said Hermione, 'I don't know why you're always so suspicious of Professor Snape.' She sighed in exasperation. 'But it is a bit strange,' she said, 'since Lupin's a member of the Order and so is Snape...'

'...and Snape wants to leave the school, where he's meant to be pretending to spy for Voldemort...' finished Harry, meeting her gaze. 'I don't like it. He's up to something.'

Hermione raised her eyebrows, but he ignored her. Snape was always up to something.

'You could just ask Lupin,' Ron said with a shrug.

Harry shook his head. 'He won't tell me. Neither will Dumbledore. Not everything, anyway.' They'd already made it clear he wasn't wanted in the Order, so there was only one way to know what was really going on. 'No, I'll just have to find out for myself. Lupin said he'd see Snape tonight after dinner. If I wait in the dungeons under my Invisibility Cloak, maybe I can find something out.'

Hermione tutted. 'Well, if you're going to do it, you'd better be careful. If this is about the Order, don't get caught – or you might end up having a Memory Charm put on you.'

'Oh, Merlin.' Ron's eyes were wide, this time with genuine horror. 'By Snape!'