A/N: The magical world of Harry Potter and all characters from said world of wonder belong to J.K. Rowling, not me. All characters original to this fanfiction do, however, belong to me. I do not make any money from this work, just reviews and entertained readers.

Pardon my Americanisms, errors, and anything else that doesn't suit your tastes. This story is AU will likely not be consistent with Rowling's depiction of magical America. Sorry.

If you like what you're reading and where you think this is going, tell me so. I'm afraid this tale might wither and die without motivating words...


Noon had come and gone, and Severus was immensely pleased. Dragging his stool to sit in front of the ever-open window, he balanced the bowl of roasted chestnuts on his lap. The batch of aromatic nuts had turned out well. He only hoped that the previous batch, the one that had been soaked in the finished potion, was just as successful.

The patch of grass directly in front of the window was littered with chestnuts. The infusion of Everlasting Elixir into his brew had given the nuts a glossy sheen that caught the brief moments of sunlight that managed to break through the grey clouds. It was a serendipitous result that he hoped would aid in attracting the crows. The aroma alone would probably be enough.

Severus ate a plain chestnut, his dark eyes scanning the treeline. They had better take the bait. Perhaps he should have used Drink of Despair. That would teach them a lesson.

After a moment of hesitation, one of the crows swooped down onto the grass. It eyed Severus sitting in the window before swaggering over to one of the chestnuts. It scooped it into its beak and flapped away. Emboldened by the apparent triumph of the first of Severus's victims, more of the crows descended to partake of his offering. Before long, every member of the gang of black birds had eaten a chestnut.

Back in the treetops, Severus saw one of the birds open its beak and its breast pump air out.

Silence. Blessed silence.

For several minutes he listened to nothing but his own chewing, savoring both the taste of his snack and his victory. The faint and far less intrusive sound of flapping wings was all the noise that came from the panicking crows. Practically gleeful, he popped another chestnut in his mouth and crunched it thoroughly.

Potions had never failed him.


As he mulled over his third dinner in a row of reheated beef stew, Severus could help but entertain a longing for the meals at Hogwarts. He hadn't brought a House Elf with him, as they were illegal in America. Another absurd aspect of this country, where freedom permeated all facets of life. He was appreciating the refilling platters of sandwiches and goblets of pumpkin juice when the piano interrupted his foray into his past.

It was eerie, like a Siren, the way it drew his consciousness toward the open window. Severus stopped himself from jumping up and rushing over to cast an Amplifying Charm. He was a patient man, a controlled man. He would get up when he was good and ready.

He let the faint sound circle his ears while he contemplatively finished his dinner. The music was clearly segmented and each part had its own mood. Some were raucous and twirled like dancing gypsies while others were like a dewy mist along the shore. In his mind, the merrier characters paled in comparison to the specters that drifted through the fog. It wasn't what many would call beautiful. The music was dissonant and jabbed at the listener harshly. Much to Severus's own surprise, he found that he thoroughly enjoyed it. For a man who had an ugly view of himself and of his life, this ugly music seemed fitting. The things he had seen, the things he had done – both willingly and not – had shaped his sarcastic and caustic personality. Whoever wrote this music must have understood just as well as he that life isn't fair, life isn't elegant, and life most certainly isn't always pretty.

Whoever was playing the music must be capable of tolerating that dissonance.

Could they tolerate him?

His bowl empty, Severus rose from the table and pushed his chair over to the window. The music was growing into a cacophonous climax. He aimed for the same spot beyond the trees and cast a quick Amplifying Charm before he sat down. Just moments later the piece abruptly ended with a crash of bright notes.

Was it over? Had he waited too long to give in to his petty wish to listen more closely?

A soft sigh made its way to his ears. Then, after the rustling of pages, a slow mysterious ticking noise. The piano began playing one section of the same music he had just heard in time with the slow beat.

Severus then sighed himself. They were practicing with a metronome. It didn't promise to be as engaging as listening to a polished performance, but he had no desire to stop listening. He didn't know how long he sat there with his eyes closed and ears open. One particularly dense passage was being played many times in succession, each iteration following a slightly faster setting of the metronome until it was back to the original tempo. Any mistakes were quickly caught and hammered out. Whoever was in the house down the hill had a sense of discipline and patience that Severus could admire. Even as an observer, he could tell that this was not an easy or pleasurable endeavor. This was work. Meticulous work.

Once the passage had been revised to their liking, another section received the same treatment with the metronome. This patterned continued until Severus found himself wishing he had a window in the bedroom. He would be much more comfortable lying down than in this hard wooden chair. Glancing at the clock on the mantle, he realized why he was feeling stiff. It had been almost two hours since the music started.

Shocked that he had lost all sense of time, he stood and braced himself against the window frame to stretch his back. How long would they practice? The sun was low in the sky and threatened to set soon. Part of him – a part that was often beaten into submission by his mental control – was wroth to miss any moment of the music for fear that it would stop and never come back.

With a scowl, he decided that he couldn't spend hours idly spying on his neighbor. That would make him no better than Lily's horrid sister. He clenched his fist as he indulged the unwelcome memory from his childhood. When the little brat hadn't been berating them about their "freak" magical abilities, she had been spreading gossip around the neighborhood like Fiendfyre.

Severus walked to the couch and retrieved his book from where it had rested on the coffee table. Reading was a much better use of his time. If he could still hear the amplified sounds coming from the other house, so be it. It was simply an enjoyable bonus, that was all.


He was beyond hearing anything but the involuntary screams at this point. His heart raced wildly in his chest, filling him with awareness, such hearty awareness. Severus's eyes were squeezed shut in agony and his grimace disguised his satisfaction. Yes, he was alive. He could feel it. Death would be much softer than this. Wave after wave of life-giving pain came over him, each more reassuring than the last. He couldn't hear who was casting the Cruciatus over his own screams echoing in his ears.

Suddenly, the pain retreated. He was numb and blind. This wasn't what he wanted. Confusion and panic overcame him. Where had his pain gone, that merciless confirmation that he was still among the living? Was this death? Something hot was trickling down his neck, leaving a burning trail along his sweaty skin. He was bleeding. He was bleeding blood tainted with venom.

No! Not possible! Not again! Clumsy, swollen hands slick with perspiration and blood fumbled along his waist. He didn't have anything on him, no potions to save him this time. Sweet Merlin, he was going to die.

Severus awoke to find himself upright on the couch, his wand at the ready and his clothes drenched in a cold sweat. The midday light pouring in from the window seared his vision. His chest ached from hyperventilation as he lowered his shaking wand arm.

Just another nightmare.

Standing slowly, he groaned as his wet clothes stuck to the equally damp couch with a sickening noise. He didn't remember falling asleep.

"Tergeo," he softly muttered and watched guiltily as his sweat evaporated from the plush fabric. What a mess, he thought to himself, admonishing his behavior as much as the state of his living area. "Scourgify." A ghostly layer of dust rose from the cushions, catching the bright sunlight that reminded him how late he had slept without the cawing of crows. For a moment he wondered if their racket hadn't been a blessing in disguise.

A sharp tapping brought his focus to the windowsill. The mayor's owl was gazing meaningfully at him. Its yellow eyes seemed to hold more than their usual grumpy expression. It made him nervous. Severus wondered how long it had been watching him, how much it had seen.

Preposterous! He felt his temper return. Why on earth would a judgmental owl make him nervous? His life was none if its business. It was just a messenger for that horrible excuse of a wizard.

With a determined scowl, he walked to the window with as much grace as his wet clothing would allow. He ripped the missive from the bird's leg with more force than necessary, which earned him a high screech and bite on the finger.

"Ah! How dare you?" He instinctively sucked the wound to stem the drop of blood. The little creature flapped its wings threateningly and screeched again. For as foreboding as it tried to make its body, Severus had to admit that its eyes were far more effective.

"Have you been loitering on my windowsill, bird?" he growled as he lowered his eyes to examine his index finger. "Or did you conveniently arrive after I awoke?" He looked up to see the challenge in its yellow expression. Incensed, he sneered back as he unrolled the Muggle paper.

"Mind yourself, Humbug." His mouth lingered over the supposedly endearing name. "I regularly gut and clean animals far larger than you for my potions." The stout owl ignored him and began preening its feathers in disgust. Severus continued to glare for a minute longer, gauging the response of the proud bird, before he finally read the note.

Famous Mr. Snape,

We missed you yesterday! The Caytons were sorry you couldn't make it. Their youngest boy had one of your Chocolate Frog cards and was hoping you'd autograph it! Anyways, the wife and I have a standing lunch date Wednesdays at noon at the diner in town. We'd love it if you joined us! We could show you around and let you see everything our little town has to offer! Looking forward to seeing Humbug bring your reply!

Cheers!

Mayor Jake

With an exasperated sigh, he pinched the bridge of his nose and closed his eyes. The man was relentless. He couldn't help but sigh again at the thought of continually thwarting the mayor's invitations for the unforeseeable future. At least the letters were free tinder. To think that Severus would ever willingly agree to becoming such a casual third wheel! Either the man really was daft or Severus needed to work harder at scaring the locals into leaving him alone.

Yet even as his Potions Master persona raged away at the invitation, a small part of him wanted to give in and appease the mayor's curiosity. It would certainly be easier than constantly turning him down. Against his will, his mouth watered at the thought of the hearty food the diner must serve. It would definitely be a step closer to the Hogwarts feasts than his leftovers.

No. He had made his position clear. He wanted nothing more than solitude to come to terms with the events of his life, to find solace in the scenery and distance himself from the wizarding world. If he went into town, it would be on his own time table and without company. As he begrudgingly looked toward his kitchen, he realized that he would have to make the trip into town sooner or later. Buying groceries locally would be much less of a hassle than portkeying to London where he would instantly be recognized.

"Wait here," he commanded the owl on his windowsill, still haughtily ignoring him. The mayor would get a reply, but not before Severus washed away his nightmare with a hot shower. He had to keep his priorities straight, after all.

He emerged from the bathroom ten minutes later with his lank hair wet and a towel around his waist. It only took him one step from the bathroom door to freeze.

There was music in the air.

It was thick and rich and most of all, it was quite loud.

Humbug's eyes were wider than usual and fixed on him quizzically before closing into accusatory slits.

Severus's heart sank as he realized that he never performed the counter charm on his neighbor's window. He had fallen asleep reading and listening last night.

Torn between embarrassment and the powerful urge to send his visitor away so he could listen in peace, he rushed to grab his parchment and quill. Ignoring the owl, who was once again making him irrationally nervous, he scribbled:

Mr. Mayor,

As stated in my previous missive, I have no desire for companionship, no interest in camaraderie, and certainly do not harbor a wish to sign those damned unlicensed Chocolate Frog cards, of all things. Do not expect me this Wednesday.

Regards,

Severus Snape

Rolling the note as quickly as his agile fingers could, he approached the brown little owl. Apparently he had approached too quickly because Humbug gave another shrill screech and beat his wings. It seemed he would need to resolve their little spat before the bird would let him send his message.

"Calm down," he grit out from behind his teeth and took a step back. Humbug folded his wings and narrowed his eyes questioningly once again.

"Is it a crime to enjoy good music?" he shot at the miniscule figure that seemed to house a much larger personality than its stature would allow. Its only response was a sharp tilt of its head, eyes never wavering. Severus sighed with resignation and slowly articulated a peace offering. "In the future, I will refrain from handling you or the messages you carry with more force than is necessary. Does that suit you?"

For a long second neither of them moved. Finally, the brown owl blinked its angry yellow eyes back to their usual state and held out its leg. Severus gingerly took a step forward and reached out with his note. When he wasn't bitten, he hurriedly tied the parchment to the bird's leg and jumped back, giving it room in case it changed its mind.

With in indignant air, Humbug swept away into the sky. It was mostly clear this morning. Or was it afternoon? Severus had not checked the time yet. Judging by the sun, he had at least a few hours of light left. Keeping one ear on the music pouring from his window like molasses, he retrieved a pair of trousers from the bedroom and pulled them on quickly. He had planned to spend the afternoon chopping firewood for the coming winter. While he could have easily accomplished the task with magic, he chose to do it the Muggle way in attempt to implement some exercise into his routine. If he happened to be able to hear his neighbor's piano, then so be it. At least that was what he told himself.

However, he first needed to eat something. Severus quickly made a couple slices of toast and was just spreading some orange marmalade on the second slice when the music morphed into something that literally made him fall to his knees with a crash of cutlery. His breath came in short gasps. He braced his hands against the floor and let his wet hair fall forward in front of his face. By all things sacred, how did this music make him react so?! All things sacred, indeed. Crawling to the window, unable to resist the pull of the heavenly sound, he admitted that whoever was making this music was creating something sacred, like the gods. It was like a reverent salve on his spirit. In silent awe, he knelt in front of the window and bowed his head once again. Every cadence was utter completion and every resolution was a brilliant diamond. Every swell pulled him up before placing him gently back down like a mother lays a child in bed. As the middle section of the piece began he heard a car approaching, but desperately put it out of his mind as he continued to worship this experience. Did whoever was playing know that they were casting a spell on him? It was truly like magic. Did they intent to beckon him to come forth unto them with his wounded soul to be whole? Had he been Imperio'ed?

The slam of car doors and sound of gravel crunching was quickly followed by a ringing doorbell. The stream of music abruptly stopped, causing Severus to practically writhe from its absence. What was wrong with him? Merlin's beard, he thought, get a hold of yourself!

"Come in, come in! I was just warming up." It was the woman's sweet voice again. Having heard her voice twice, Severus assumed she was the house's occupant. "How are you today?"

Severus couldn't make out the reply as it was too soft for the Amplifying Charm to carry to his window. He did, however, hear not one, but three women laugh at the unheard comment. Coming out of the spell he was under, he slowly picked himself up and staggered to the couch.

"It's been a good day so far, miss. She's been looking forward to visiting you all morning." This was a new voice, higher and more feminine than the first, although less melodic. Severus stared at the ceiling as he raptly absorbed every sound that reached his ears.

"We'll put you over here in your usual spot then, Mama," the sweet voice was saying as the sound of footsteps and something like wheels came to him. The way she said the word "Mama" was unusual, with the accent on the second syllable. There was another soft response that Severus couldn't make out.

"If you'd like, that's fine too," the sweet voice said. Severus firmly decided that this voice was more to his liking than the higher voice. This voice was like honey: sweet, sticky, and with more substance than plain sugar. There were more shuffling sounds and the rolling of wheels.

"Is this alright, sweetheart? Can you see from here?" asked the high voice. Another soft reply. "Good, good. Whenever you're ready, Anna."

There was a moment of silence.

Then the piano was alive again, replaying the thick and rich music that he had heard in Humbug's presence.

Anna.

Her name was Anna.

He inhaled deeply and closed his eyes, as if he could somehow better understand the music if he breathed more of the air through which it resonated. The notes tumbled around him like a waterfall of sound.

Then, before he knew it, the music morphed back into the sacred hymn he had worshiped earlier, the same heavenly bliss that had brought him to his knees.

Anna, Goddess of music.

Now he knew.

Severus didn't move a muscle, savoring the chance to relive his earlier experience, this time without an interruption. To his utter shock, it was more delicious the second time around. His soul, his wounded soul, cried out in his chest.

And just when he thought it couldn't get any better, a new section blossomed. It was in a slow major key, so hopeful, so simple, and exactly what he needed. He remained perfectly still. Almost. Unbidden and unable to defy the music, his right arm slid over his heart and clutched at the skin there in a vain attempt to keep his soul tethered to his body.

Glorious.

Anna, Goddess of music.

Motionless on the outside, his wounded soul was rattling around in the cage of his chest in anguish. Grieving. Yes, it was truly grieving. He let the piece finish, anticipating what might come next.

But she didn't continue.

"Mama?"

Straining, Severus could barely make out muffled sobs.

"Oh, Mama!" There were quick footsteps and the brushing of clothing. "What's wrong? Don't cry or I'll start crying too." Anna's voice broke on the last word.

Severus didn't need to wonder what was happening. He knew that the mother was doing what he wouldn't allow himself to do. She was weeping over the beauty her daughter wove through the air, her body reacting in a way Severus was too proud to allow his: releasing the pain and emotion through tears.

He opened his eyes slowly and waited as the minutes passed. All he heard was the gentle weeping amongst the women and hushed words of comfort that he couldn't interpret. A chill crept up the back of his neck. He was an unknown intruder on their tender scene. Despite his history as a spy, he felt at fault for invading his neighbor's privacy. While the volume of the piano might carry naturally, a whispered moment of sorrow was definitely not being willingly broadcast to the nearby houses. Unless, of course, your neighbor happened to be a wizard with alarmingly little self-control when it came to eavesdropping.

Severus set his jaw and clenched his fists. What was he doing? He had given in again to the spell of the music. This wasn't right. He was better than this. Hadn't he had plans for the afternoon? Rising from his prone position, he flung the counter charm at the distant window and ran a hand through his damp hair.


An hour later, the interrupted toast had been hastily eaten and a significant portion of the logs leaning against the left side of the cabin were now neatly segmented and stacked. Severus set down the heavy ax and wiped his brow. In the far reaches of his mind, he realized that his soul felt a touch less raw. He took a deep, cleansing breath of the crisp mountain air and swore that his chest could fill more than it used to. It must be the physical exercise, he told himself. What he wouldn't tell himself was that it had been the music's healing spell. What a silly notion that would be.

He had just bent down to begin chopping again when the faint dance-like music of the piano wafted up to him. It was upbeat and raucously satisfying. Before he realized what he was doing, his lips curved up into a small smile. From the sound of it, things were finally a little less morose in the house down the hill.

Impulsively, Severus turned his smile toward the ever present sentry that was the mountain. Breathing deeply once again he let his gaze linger on the vibrant colors the sunset created before setting his mouth back to its usual pose and getting back to work.


A/N: This chapter has a couple pieces. The first might take a while to digest, as it is an acquired taste. I personally love dissonant music, and I was blessed to perform this one at a festival in Italy where I won a award for my interpretation. It is Bela Bartok's Improvisations on Hungarian Peasant Songs Op. 20. Listen to the whole thing. You can do it. Really.

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The second piece is Brahms Op. 118, a piece very dear to my heart. There are six movements to this work and while this chapter only mentions the first three, I hope you will take the time to listen to the rest.

I. Intermezzo in A Minor (this is what Snape hears during Humbug's visit)

II. Intermezzo in A Major (the heavenly music)

III. Ballade in G Minor (what he hears at the end of the chapter)

IV. Intermezzo in F Minor

V. Romance in F

VI. Intermezzo in E-flat Minor

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