Chap 9: Fireworks
Though her hands were clenched in trembling fists of rage, Adelaide managed to keep her voice low and steady when she said, "Remus, Sirius, would you kindly excuse Professor Snape and me. We have some issues to discuss." Her eyes hadn't yet left Snape's.
They stood up, but Remus said, "Are you sure you wouldn't –"
She shot him a look that said, "Get out NOW."
Sirius put a hand on his friend's back and started to usher him towards the door. He had a feeling that this witch could take care of herself, but he said over his shoulder to her, "If you need anything, just holler." As he passed Snape, Sirius gave him a look that said, 'Anyone who messes with a friend of mine might as well be messing with me.' Remus turned to give Adelaide one last glance of reassurance before they disappeared out the office door.
Adelaide walked to the door and closed it quietly. Snape stood rooted where he was, taut with anticipation. Adelaide turned around to face him.
"MY NAME IS ADELAIDE MAYHEM!" she roared. "Surely, Voldemort's little potions genius can manage to remember a simple name, can't he?" She spat out the words as if they were venom, and he her prey.
Her explosion took him by surprise, but he recovered in an instant. "I just want to make sure I've got the name right, before I commit it to memory," he sneered back. "It remains to be seen whether you are a Mayhem, or a Jones sent here to cause it!"
"YOU…you of ALL people should know what it's like to need a fresh start…to forget the past! How long will you continue to rub my face in it?"
"Until you have proven yourself!"
"Proven myself?!?!" she shrieked. "Dumbledore has accepted me, MacGonagall has welcomed me, Black and Lupin, whom I've known all of an hour, are willing to give me a chance! Even the damn BIRD can tell that I'm for real! Please tell me--what exactly will it take to prove myself to the High and Mighty Severus Snape? How do I get YOU to forgive my past? Or," she added slyly, "are we still waiting for you to forgive your own first???"
That was it. Addy had hit the bull's eye.
"THIS IS NOT ABOUT ME!" thundered Snape.
"Oh, isn't it?!?"
"You think you can waltz in here, change your name, and the past is magically erased? It doesn't work like that, Miss Mayhem." He practically hissed her name. "There is no magic trick in the world—light or dark—that can do that!"
"Do you REALLY think that I need reminding of my past? You know full well that I carry the scars of it inside and out, day in and day out, just as you do! Tell me, do YOU need any reminders of YOUR past???"
"Once again, this isn't about ME! And since when are my "needs" any concern of yours?!"
"When YOUR needs contribute to MY misery, they become very much my concern! Besides, I thought you and I might be friends. You've heard of friends, haven't you? Or perhaps you've read about them in a book? People who care about one another, help each other through hard times, know each other. HA! THAT, perhaps, was my BIGGEST delusion!!!"
The storm raged on like that for over an hour. They screamed, they shouted, they bellowed; they flailed their arms, they faced off and circled one another like animals, they smashed things against the walls. Each had hit his or her mark more than once, each had been wounded by the other's words.
When their collective tantrum had finally run its course, when they had run out of insults and shouted themselves hoarse, they collapsed in exhaustion onto a leather couch in a corner of the office. Addy buried her head in her hands. Silence reigned for a few moments as they caught their breath.
Snape was bewildered. He had always been able to keep others at a distanc, to scare them off with a fearsome brew of intimidation, sarcasm, a touch of cruelty, and, when all else failed, sheer volume. Yet here was someone who'd been able to match him barb for barb, wound for wound. She wanted answers and she wasn't backing down. Not only that, she had also managed to figure out what was really fueling his rage. And, in spite of all that, she had wanted to be his friend.
Meanwhile, over in her corner of the couch, all of Addy's anger had drained out of her. What was left was a feeling of sheer hopelessness. A good deal of the noise she had been making was due to the fact that Snape had put voice to her deepest fears—that there really was no hope of erasing the past, that she could never depart from the marked life that seemed to be her destiny. She had been hollering at to him, trying to convince herself. She stared out the window, lost in despair.
She was sitting there, contemplating her resignation and what would happen to her afterwards, when Snape's voice broke the silence gently. "We can't go on like this. We're supposed to be working together. I'm supposed to be your bloody mentor, for Merlin's sake."
"I guess…" she said quietly, shaking her head, "I guess…I just thought…that maybe I could change things…start over, make a new life. I don't know. You're right. It was stupid."
"No it wasn't," came the soft reply from the wizard sitting next to her, his thumb and forefinger cradling the bridge between his eyes.
Addy clicked her tongue in exasperation and said "Listen to what I'm saying, Snape. I'm agreeing with you. The argument is over. You win. You were right all along."
"No," he replied, in a whisper that was barely audible, yet filled with urgency. "I can't be right. Not about this."
He took his hand away from his face and his eyes met hers. What she saw astounded Addy. Snape's expression—a look of utter misery and raw need—told her that he really didn't want to be right…that, in fact, he desperately needed to be wrong. He needed the promise of a new life, one that transcended the sins of his past, every bit as much as she did. He needed hope too.
More silence followed, in which Adelaide studied him
carefully and thought hard, trying to figure something out. Finally, she asked him, "Have you given up?"
Snape averted his gaze, saying, "I don't know what you're talking about."
"You know exactly what I'm talking about." She didn't really want to say the "H" word out loud.
Without looking at her, he said, " Have I given up? Maybe. I don't know. I think so."
Birds chirped happily outside as a somber hush once again fell on the room.
Finally, Adelaide said, "Listen, I can't fight Voldemort, my father, my past, and YOU all at the same time. I'm strong, but not that strong. So I want to make a deal with you."
Snape looked back at her. Adelaide's face was a study in anguish, her eyes pleading with him. She said, "I need you to give me a chance…a REAL chance. Stop throwing the past in my face. Open yourself up to the possibility of…of…me…" she trailed off.
Snape cut in, but this time his sarcasm was mild. "Usually," he teased, "a deal involves something for each party. What's in it for me?"
She hesitated, anxious about continuing. Finally she said, "I won't let you give up. I'll keep it alive, for both of us. Whether you know it or not, Snape, you need hope as much as I do." There. She had said it.
An indignant mask quickly occupied his face, and Adelaide braced herself for the impact. But then, his features softened, his shoulders slumped a bit. It looked as though that old internal argument he'd been having with himself had finally run out of steam. The only problem was, Adelaide wasn't sure which side had won.
Even more silence. And finally, Snape's whispered reply:
"Deal."
Addy tentatively stretched her arm across the length of the couch and held out her hand. Snape shook it firmly, professionally. Then, he impulsively leaned over and reached out with his other hand as well, covering hers with both of his. He hadn't even been aware of what he was doing until after he had done it.
Addy then placed her free hand over both of his and slid closer to him, so they could sit that way comfortably, which they did for a while, listening to the birds.
"One more thing," said Adelaide, as she rested her head on his shoulder. "Don't ever call me by that name again."
To be continued…(and heated up)…
