Author's Note:
The incantation "Specialis Revelio" that Severus is using in this chapter causes something to show its hidden secrets.
Many thanks and even more hugs to my faithful reviewers. You are stars!
This chapter contains some dialogue directly taken from 'Prisoner of Azkaban'.
Chapter 4
"The Red Ink Rose"
It had been raining for days.
Ron gazed out of the window and inwardly sighed at the prospect of another day trapped inside the castle. Well, at least they had another Hogsmeade trip to look forward to tomorrow. Neville swore the sun hadn't been shining ever since their return to Hogwarts and blamed it all on the Dementors. Hermione would only roll her eyes at that, but Ron and Harry both agreed that Neville had a point.
For one honorable moment Ron tried to force his concentration back on Mr. Binns, their History of Magic teacher, but the monotonous blop blop blops of the rain pelting against the windows didn't exactly make the equally monotonous recital of their ghost teacher sound any more inspiring. And so Ron's attention quickly wandered again. Taking a look around, he found his attention span wasn't the worst in class. Dean and Seamus were playing 'Hangman' over in a corner and next to them Neville was trying to bewitch Trevor, his piteous toad, into a goldfish. For a moment Ron considered pointing out that Neville would need a goldfish bowl once his transfiguration was successful, but then he decided not to bother.
When is it ever?
Next to Ron, Hermione didn't pay much attention to class either. Instead, she was bent low over what looked suspiciously like her Arythmancy notes to him (not that he had ever bothered to take a closer look at that subject). Harry, who sat on Hermione's other side, seemed deeply absorbed in something that Ron was certain didn't have anything to do with History of Magic either. Occasionally, he would mark certain paragraphs in the book he was reading in. Ron didn't know what it was, but he had seen Harry reading in it quite often as of late.
Probably 'Flying with the Cannons, Volume II'.
Every now and then Harry would frantically scribble down notes on a checkered piece of muggle paper. He had even resorted to using a muggle pen instead of his quill. Harry using muggle stationary seemed to imply a great sense of urgency somehow, though Ron couldn't be too sure. Harry had never shown any real sense of urgency when it came to schoolwork. That was Hermione's job and so Ron made a mental note to check Harry's forehead for a fever after class.
Now Harry leaned over to Hermione as if to consult her on what he had been reading and they talked in a hushed whisper.
Okay, so maybe it wasn't 'Flying with the Cannons, Volume II' after all.
The bell rang and all students sprung up tumultuously, shoving books and notes into their backpacks and bolting out of the door. Only Hermione and Harry remained seated, still animatedly whispering about a subject unknown to Ron. He was getting a bit annoyed.
Deliberately taking his time, Ron started rummaging around his bag while listening intently.
'Well, if all that's true he better finds me before I turn sixteen,' he could make out Harry's words now. 'Otherwise …. I might be in trouble.'
Ron thought Harry sounded rather cheerful at the prospect of being in trouble. And although he didn't know what Harry's sixteenth birthday had to do with anything, he now reckoned his friends could only be talking about You Know Who and felt oddly relieved. This surely wasn't a something they would deliberately keep him out from. And so he said jokingly:
'Well, you'd better let Snape find you before your sixteenth birthday, Harry, or you'll be in trouble for sure. After all it's Potions next so ….,' Ron waved both hands around in front of Harry and Hermione, '… up, up you!'
Ron could have sworn that Harry looked at him warily for a moment, but then the dark-haired boy made a face and groaned. 'Potions. Darn! You're right.'
He folded his notes neatly and stuck them inside the middle of his book. Ron tried to catch a glimpse of the title, but Harry seemed to be handling the book in a way that always shielded the cover from Ron's view. When Hermione saw him looking, however, she took the book from Harry's hands (also making a quite show out of hiding the title), tapped it lightly with her wand and muttered an incantation that Ron couldn't quite make out. When she handed the book back to Harry, her eyes were sparkling.
Surprised, Harry glanced down on the book's front. 'Her-my-oh-nee!' he whined a second later. 'POTIONS FOR DUMMIES?'
Hermione chuckled mischievously and shrugged. 'First thing that came to my mind …'
She squealed as Harry attempted to smack the book over her head, ducked underneath his raised arms and darted out of the classroom. Harry close behind.
Ron felt decidedly left out now. He caught up with them again in the hallway in front of the dungeon that was their Potions classroom. Class hadn't started yet, but all students preferred turning up way in time over suffering their Potions teacher's wrath should they dare to be late. Everyone was chatting quietly or attempting to make last minute revisions. ('And what was the dragon tongue for again?' Neville could be heard from somewhere. 'To wipe your stupid arse with after potions lessons, dimwit!' Draco Malfoy could be heard from somewhere else.) Harry, however, was once more absorbed in his book, occasionally pointing out something to Hermione, who would lean in, read and nod thoughtfully.
'Potions for Dummies my butt!' Ron thought irritably and when he saw Professor Snape approaching behind his two friends, he momentarily contemplated giving them a warning and … decided against it. He also decided he definitely deserved to feel a tiny, little bit satisfied, when Snape crept up behind Harry and sneered: 'Interesting read, Potter?'
Snape had a way of spitting out Harry's last name - like it was that of the most disgusting creature known to mankind - that could only be rivaled by Draco Malfoy.
Harry jumped.
The book fell to the floor.
Hermione bent to pick it up, but Snape was faster. With an ubersatisfied smirk, he looked down at the book in his hands and read: 'Potions for …' He stopped and glared at Harry suspiciously. (Ron fleetingly wondered if Snape was thinking along the lines of "Potions for Dummies my butt!" also.) Harry glared back.
And then Harry's notes slipped out of the book.
They sailed to the floor gracefully and by the time they had reached it, all eyes were fixed on Harry's papers. Harry seemed frozen in shock and only watched as Snape bent down once more to pick up the notes.
'That's private!' Hermione snapped as he unfolded the sheets. Snape merely cast her a cold look and started to read. His eyes widened and he looked at Harry sharply, his eyes darting back and forth from the notes in his hand to Harry. Suddenly, he took out his wand, tapped it on the book and quietly said: 'Specialis Revelio.'
Hermione gasped.
Harry closed his eyes.
Ron held his breath.
Severus Snape went white.
He stared at what Ron knew to be the real cover of Harry's book for a long moment. Then, without saying another word, he tapped the book once more, thrust it back at Harry and turned around abruptly. "Get inside." he barked at the students who all but flinched. Snape opened the classroom door and disappeared inside, black robes billowing behind him. Everyone was quick to follow his advice. Only Harry stood frozen on the spot, clutching the book to his chest. And as Ron walked past him, he saw that the title once more said: "Potions for Dummies".
It was Saturday and the castle was unusually quiet. With the exception of the First and Second Years, all students had set off to Hogsmeade. Severus, who was leisurely sitting in one of his armchairs with a book resting on his lap, rolled his eyes. 'Let me rephrase that,' he spoke to himself as he glanced into the dancing fire in front of him. 'Everyone with the exception of the First and Second Years AND Harry Potter.'
Severus sneered contemptibly at the thought of Harry's muggle relatives, who hadn't signed the silly little permission slip for those Hogsmeade trips for whatever silly reason.
Maybe because they know that Harry's stark raving mad Godfather is on the loose?
Good point.
Severus didn't know much about the Dursleys and that's how he liked it. He had spent the last ten years before Harry's arrival at Hogwarts picturing the boy as an insufferable little brat, spoiled rotten by his doting aunt and uncle. How easy it had been back then to pretend that the task of severing his ties with James Potter's brood would be a simple one.
Severus had found sleep easily during those years. Only rarely had his dreams been tainted by visions of a raven-haired young man with skin as light and even as the most exquisite marble. And if they were, Severus had been quick to deny that the marble skin belonged to the Potter boy at all. Never mind the fact that Trelawney's prophecy had been easy enough to understand.
"And what shall lead to his victory over the dark side, shall lead to his downfall in the end.
The boy who lived will die for the man he's living for."
During the year after Harry's birth it had been difficult to believe that Severus could EVER be the man Harry "was living for". Despite Lily's reasoning, James had frankly forbidden Severus to ever lay eyes on his son and Severus had been unable to see how his path could ever possibly cross with Harry's. Besides, what evidence did he really have that Harry was meant to be his mate one day? All Severus had was his visions. Dreams that James had stubbornly insisted, Severus only made up to spite him. Dreams of a pale young man with dark hair and round spectacles; a young man that resembled James Potter so startlingly that, once upon a time, Severus had been sure it had been James. And who could have blamed him then?
Well, James had, obviously.
And Sirius Black of course.
But then Lily and James Potter had been killed by Lord Voldemort. And Harry had survived the Killing Curse.
The Daily Prophet had been quick to dub him "The Boy Who Lived".
And that's when all false pretense had gone down the drain. Severus had been given the order to not let his own prophecy meddle with the one of the child. Harry Potter was meant to rid the world from Satan's Spawn and live happily ever after. If he survived, that was. Harry Potter wasn't meant to waste his life being some ugly, old man's sidekick one day. And really now, the notion of a child, a small baby, being his soulmate was ridiculous to begin with.
That thought, memories of James Potter and fantasies of an equally stuck-up son, had made keeping away from Harry Potter easy enough. But then the moment had finally come when Severus had set eyes on Harry for the first time in his life. A tiny boy amidst other equally tiny First Years waiting to be sorted into their houses. He had stared around the Great Hall in awe, a little bit scared and very much excited … and Severus had felt his defences melt.
While it was admittedly hard to think of the little rug rat as an equal, as his predestined partner even (or worse: "future lover"), it was even harder to dismiss him as James Potter's rotten offspring now. While some of Harry's features, the unruly mess of black hair and those hideous round glasses, certainly made the boy look like a carbon copy of his father, his eyes did not. They were Lily's eyes through and through.
Even so, Severus had given his all to keep up a wandproof façade of hatred in front of Harry (and everyone else for that matter) and overall, he thought he had done a damn good job. It had not taken long until Severus' apparent dislike for the boy was mirrored in Harry's emerald eyes - and that had made Severus' life much easier.
And then it had begun to hurt.
And then he had found out Harry was doing research on soulmates.
And maybe not all hope is lost yet.
Severus shook his head as if to clear it from all inappropriate thoughts. He mustn't think like this. Harry's life was at stake. And he would not be the one putting it at risk. And yet Severus couldn't help but wonder, as so many times before, how things would have turned out if nobody had ever found out about Severus' soulmate. If he had never told James …
It was way past midnight and the Slytherin common room was empty and quiet. Empty except for a young boy, not much older than fifteen, sitting at the table nearest to the fireplace. Quiet except for the soft noise of his quill scratching over parchment.
When he was done, the black-haired boy re-read his writings a couple of times (scratching his rather large nose as he did so) until he was certain he hadn't forgotten anything crucial. Then he cleaned the tip of his quill with a dirty, old cloth, and carefully dipped it into the bottle of red ink that was standing next to the Black he had been using before. He bent down over the parchment once more and with his face screwed up in concentration, the tip of his tongue visible between his lips, he carefully started to draw. Within seconds a beautiful ink rose started blooming next to where the boy had signed the parchment with "With Love, Severus Snape".
The boy called Severus leaned back now and admired his creation with pride. When the ink had dried, he gently picked up the paper and rolled it up. Then he carefully wrapped a red ribbon around it and, after a loving tip of his wand, the ribbon formed itself into a formidable looking rose, matching the one the young Slytherin had drawn only moments earlier.
'Yulub?' said the boy now, breaking the silence. For a moment he stared about the room and nothing happened. But suddenly, with a soft pop, a house-elf appeared and looked at him eagerly. Severus smiled. 'There you are,' he said kindly. Then, more excitedly: 'It's done, Yulub! I wrote the letter now!'
Yulub, the house-elf, jumped up and down and clapped her tiny hands simultaneously. 'Why, that is wonderful! Young master will not regret it!' she squealed happily. Severus sighed, but couldn't stop a grin from spreading across his features. 'I hope you're right,' he said quietly. 'Will you bring this to his dorm room now, Yulub?'
Yulub carefully took the roll of parchment he presented to her and held it, palms up, like it was the most delicate thing in the world. And that's exactly what Yulub thought it was. For in a way, she was holding the young master's heart in her outstretched hands.
'I will make sure Mr. Potter gets it,' she promised, her voice dropping to a respectful whisper.
Severus nodded. 'Thank you, Yulub. Put it on his bed, so he finds it right after he wakes up. But don't wake him up! And make sure you don't mix up his bed with somebody else's.'
They both gulped at the thought of Sirius Black finding the letter instead and Yulub swore on her life there would be no mistake. Then she was gone.
The next morning came early for Severus and with the strange sensation of a dozen pixies dancing polka in his stomach, he turned around in his bed and buried his face deep inside his pillow. He had really done it! He had written a love letter to James Potter! He had explained all about soulmates and his dreams and how he knew that James and he where meant to be together forever. The pixies were stomping harder now.
Had the Gryffindor already read the letter? Was he already on his way down to the Slytherin Dungeons to greet him?
For a while Severus amused himself with picturing how they would grin awkwardly at each other for a moment, and how James, no doubt the bolder one of the two, would then pull him into a bone-crushing hug. Nothing more. Severus' mum had told him "No funny business until after graduation!" after all. And that was good enough for the boy, the mere idea of holding James in his arms was enough to make him dizzy.
His dreams were about to become reality!
Severus stayed in his bed long enough for his roommates to get up and about … and what felt like a long enough time for James Potter to wake up, read his letter and, well, get used to the fact that he was destined to be with a boy he hated. But Severus needn't worry about unimportant details like that. Priya had explained it to him often enough. If Severus and James really were soulmates (and his dreams did leave no room for other interpretations!), then James would realize his love for Severus soon enough. He just needed a bit of nudging in the right direction.
Severus reckoned a love letter was as good a nudge as any.
Finally Severus couldn't bear it any longer and he pulled the curtains aside, jumped out of bed and into the now empty dorm room. He dressed carefully and – after taking a few deep breaths – he opened the door and stepped into the Slytherin common room. It was empty, too. Everyone had left for breakfast. James Potter wasn't waiting on the other side of the Slytherin Portrait, but Severus didn't worry. He was probably waiting for him in the Great Hall. Saving him a seat next to him at the breakfast table.
Getting more confident with each step, Severus made his way up. And by the time he had reached the Entrance Hall on the ground floor, he felt positively elated.
The first thing Severus noticed were the myriads of paper sheets everywhere. They were pinned on every wall, at least a hundred were bewitched to hang about in mid-air, and others were lying on the floor where people walked upon them carelessly. Students were gathered in small groups and almost everyone was holding a paper in their hands. Heads turned when Severus Snape stepped into the Entrance Hall. Some avoided his gaze and blushed, some were smiling sympathetically and many smirked at him openly. Somewhere students were laughing loudly.
Out of nowhere his best friend, Lucius Malfoy, came up to him. 'What's going on?' Severus asked when Malfoy pulled him towards the large entrance door. 'Later, Sev!' Lucius hissed and literally started dragging him outside. But it was too late.
A large, beautiful rose had already caught Severus' eye.
He tore his arm from Lucius' grip and picked up one of the many papers lying on the ground in front of him.
There it was. His red ink rose blossoming next to the words "With Love, Severus Snape".
He looked around, not wanting to believe what his heart already knew, and saw that every single paper flying around the Hall carried the same signature.
The same rose.
The same letter.
Severus felt something break inside of him.
Frantic knocking woke Severus from his slumber and it took him a moment to adjust his mind to present tense. He sensed his godson outside his chambers and as if on cue, Draco Malfoy started yelling: 'Sev! Severus! Open up! UNCLE SEV!'
The knocking continued.
'Merlin be damned!' Severus barked and opened the door with a flick of his wand. Draco stumbled inside, catching himself from falling over his own feet only just.
Severus smirked. 'Graceful, Junior.'
Draco made a face, wiped a few muddy strands of usually white blond hair from his eyes (in what he obviously thought to be an aristocratic manner) and said calmly: 'About time.'
'What is it, Draco?'
Reminiscing about the past hadn't left Severus in the best of moods.
'I just thought you'd be interested to know that I just saw Harry Potter's head floating around near the Shrieking Shack,' the young Slytherin continued evenly.
Severus blinked. 'You what?'
Draco told him about what had happened at Hogsmeade.
Severus wanted to strangle Harry. Oh, the nerves of the boy! To sneak out into Hogsmeade with that lunatic of a Black romping around only Merlin knew just how close!
He stormed outside and Draco plopped down on his godfather's couch with a chuckle.
Severus could tell Harry did his best to look innocent. He would have smiled if he hadn't been so angry with the boy. And if a smile hadn't completely blown his cover, of course.
Of course, Harry flatly denied that any body parts of his had ever been floating around Hogsmeade. 'I've been up in Gryffindor Tower,' he lied unblinkingly. 'Like you told-'
'Can anyone confirm that?'
Their noses were all but touching now and Severus knew he was probing the boy. Egging him on. Tempting him to realize who his soulmate really was. He was like a muggle child playing with matches.
Subtle.
Harry didn't say anything and with their faces only inches apart, Severus could almost see the brain working behind the boy's eyes. This time Severus couldn't help but smile. But of course that didn't change the fact that he would have very much liked to give the brat a good beating.
To put himself into danger like this!
He straightened up again and started a rant about how people, time and time again, were going out of their way to safe the Golden Boy's behind and, really now, how did he thank them? However, Severus did not think the words were making much of an impression. Harry just stared through him blankly …
Sirius had come up to him the day when Hogwarts seemed to spill over with Severus' love letter to James Potter.
'Hello there, Snivellus! Looking for your soulmate?' The word had sounded wrong coming out of his mouth.
Severus saw that James Potter was standing only a few feet behind Black. He didn't look at Severus. Instead he fixed his blank stare on some invisible mark on Severus' chest.
'Tell me, fag! Have you ever looked into a mirror before?' Sirius whooped now.
Severus didn't know what a fag was, but it sure didn't sound like a compliment. But then not many things directed towards Severus ever did.
'Listen James!' he tried to reason. 'Can't we just talk for a minute? Alone?'
Sirius cackled. 'Alone? Listen carefully, Snape, and I will only say this once. JAMES POTTER IS NOT GAY! And even if he was, he would NEVER EVER be with scum like you. Now get lost!'
'James!' Severus pleaded. 'Please, let's talk!'
But James only continued to blankly stare right through him.
'How extraordinarily like your father you are, Potter,' Severus said quietly and from out of nowhere a red ink rose sprung into his mind.
'He, too, was exceedingly arrogant. Strutting around the place with his friends and admirers … the resemblance between you is uncanny.'
It was a lie, of course, but suddenly he felt he just had to get a reaction out of Harry. Had to.
'My dad didn't strut,' said Harry coldly. 'And nor do I.'
'Your father didn't set much store by rules either,' Severus went on. 'His head was so swollen -'
'SHUT UP!'
Harry jumped to his feet. His fists were clenched and for a moment the severity of his response startled Severus greatly. 'What did you say to me, Potter?'
'I told you to shut up about my dad!' Harry seemed frantic now. 'I know the truth! He saved your life! Dumbledore told me!'
The words hit Severus like a branch of the Whomping Willow. Dumbledore had told him.
Harry knew what his father had done. What Sirius had done.
What Severus had done.
The red ink rose seemed to wither ... until Severus suddenly realized that the raving teenager in front of him had no real clue what he was talking about. Dumbledore hadn't told him everything. Harry didn't know about the letter.
He didn't know about the red ink rose.
He didn't know how Sirius Black had almost succeeded in luring him inside the Shrieking Shack under the false pretense that James was waiting there for him, willing to talk about the letter after all. Wanting to apologize and all that. He didn't know how humiliated Severus had been when Harry's father had stopped him the last minute with the confession that it had all been a joke. James had never planned on talking to Severus about anything, let alone their non-existent shared future. Instead the plan had been to send him straight into the arms of a rampaging werewolf.
How was that for romantic?
But Harry knew none of this and Severus could hardly blame the Gryffindor for being angry at him. He suddenly felt very tired and was relieved when their childish little "glaring contest" was interrupted by a soft knock on the door.
'Yes?' Severus answered, rubbing his eyes quickly. A few seconds later Remus Lupin stepped inside. 'Everything okay? I heard yelling.'
The irony of being glad to see Lupin at this moment wasn't lost on Severus.
'Do come in, Professor', he said without real malice. 'Maybe you will have more luck in finding out just how Mister Potter here managed to walk around the Gryffindor Tower while his head was floating around Hogsmeade.'
Savoring the thoroughly confused look on his fellow teacher's face, Severus brushed past Harry and left the two of them standing in his office.
A glass of Firewhisky suddenly sounded like a great idea.
To be continued