Chapter 10 - Moving On
(Tibby POV)
Sunday morning. Tibby apparated in Professor Snape's quarters and looked around. It was quiet, and the door to her master's bedroom was closed. Most likely Master was still asleep.
The house-elf looked at the clock in the small living room and grinned – it was ten o'clock already. She still could not believe her luck. House-elves were supposed to get up very early and prepare their masters' rooms for the day, but Tibby had soon found out that her new master preferred it altogether if she showed up late on the week-ends. The later, the better.
Master Snape was a night person. Even during weekdays he would often read or work in his laboratory until late in the night, and the best thing one could to in the mornings was to avoid him entirely. On the weekends he used the mornings to catch up on lacking sleep. Tibby was then not expected to light the fire in his bedroom, fetch him breakfast and the morning paper, or perform any of the tasks she had had with her former masters – the one thing Tibby was expected to do was leave him alone.
Naturally, Tibby enjoyed this new working style. It meant that she got to sleep in on the weekends when the other elves had to get up. But Tibby also was an old-fashioned house-elf, and she took pride in her work. If Master Snape did not want her to wake him, that was alright. But she would never forget her tasks in his other rooms. With that living room full of books to be dusted and that crammed laboratory there was more than enough to do.
Now the small house-elf surveyed the room more closely. In actual fact it was uncharacteristically untidy. There were a few dirty foot-prints on the floor and then a pair of Master's black boots tossed to the side. A dark Muggle coat hung over the back of the old and threadbare settee, and there were several papers and a large, yellow-brownish envelope on the table. Next to the papers Tibby found an empty whisky glass.
For this time in the morning, it was unexpectedly warm in the room although the connecting door to Professor Snape's ever-cold office stood open. Tibby even found a few embers still glowing in the firebox, and most of the logs she had only yesterday stacked into the basket behind the settee were gone. Master must have spent the best part of the night awake.
She re-kindled the flames and watched the fire-salamanders appear on the burning logs. Tibby had never quite understood how they moved from one fireplace to another, but the small lizards immediately showed up when one lit a fire within Hogwarts. The red-hot creatures were very helpful. They spread the embers evenly and saw to it that the fires burned without emitting too much smoke.
Next, Tibby turned her attention to the papers on the table. There were a few of the magazines Master read regularly –The Art of Defence, The Practical Potioneer, and Philtre – and some parchments covered with Master Snape's handwriting. Also on the tabletop was one of Master's favourite and most valuable books, an ancient English edition of The Book of Venoms by Magister Santes de Ardoynis. But all these documents were pushed to the side of the table. Prominently on top of the spread-out parchments was the old, worn envelope she had already noticed.
Tibby hesitated. She knew this envelope, although she did not know what it contained. In her very first week of working for the Head of Slytherin House she had cleaned the desk in his office – properly cleaned it, like any good house-elf would do. And that had not been a good idea at all.
She was aware that most of the Hogwarts elves did not like working in the cool dungeons. Quite a few of them were afraid of the ill-tempered Potions Master, although no one could remember if he had ever harmed an elf. (Privately Tibby now thought that he would never hurt a helpless creature, but she was not entirely sure of it.) As a result, the elves did hurry with their tasks in his rooms, thereby not exactly coming up to the usual standard of their work. Professor Snape did not seem to mind. He preferred privacy over a spotlessly clean office.
Tibby, on the other had, had wanted to show him that she would work very hard because he had given her this second chance. She still had no idea why she had woken up in the hospital wing a few weeks ago, drunk on some alcoholic beverage. It had been most embarrassing. But the Deputy Headmistress had kindly explained to all the house-elves that this had not been Tibby's mistake, that she had clearly been ordered to drink the alcohol – not by dear and famous Professor Lockhart of course, but would Tibby not like to work for a new master instead, like Professor Snape for example?
Tibby suspected that it had in fact been Master Lockhart's orders, but that the Deputy Headmistress could not prove it. Professor Lockhart did not have a personal house-elf any more, she had seen to that. The elves now took turns to take care of his rooms (never the same elf for more than two days!) and Tibby was forbidden to ever go close to him again. She worked exclusively for Master Snape now, and she was glad that she had been given that chance. Most employers would have given clothes to a house-elf found drunk.
She had thus spent the first week of her new job cleaning every inch of Master's rooms. The classroom on the other side of the corridor had been fairly easy to do, even if the students sometimes created a formidable mess. Professor Snape's small living room, bedroom and bathroom were no problem either – only his office and his private laboratory were nightmare to clean. There were literally thousands of jars and glasses to be dusted, some of them leaking horrible fluids, and all of them containing slimy, nasty, and smelly things.
She had spent three days only doing the jars. Lastly, Tibby had wanted to clean Master's desk. She had taken out all the drawers, even the bottom right one that he kept locked. She had had no difficulties opening that drawer – if cleaning was a house-elf's designated job, he or she could easily overcome minor magical hindrances. She had realised her mistake only when Master Snape had entered his office and found Tibby with the old envelope she had just taken out of that drawer.
He had snatched the brown envelope away from her and then, for a few very long seconds, Tibby had understood why the other elves were afraid of him. But he had not punished her (she had later done that herself, with a hot fire-poker), instead he had only ordered her to never, never ever touch that drawer or its contents again.
Now Tibby had a problem. She checked Professor Snape's office room and saw that the desk drawer stood open. She was not allowed – and thus unable – to open it any more, but if it already stood open she could certainly close it again. Technically it was possible for her to put that envelope back where it belonged. But that meant disobeying. She was not allowed to touch the mysterious envelope. Only, leaving it on the table also was an act of disobedience. After all it was her duty to tidy the room.
Tibby flapped her large ears excitedly. Maybe this was a test? Her old mistress in Bath had sometimes tested her by leaving food or money in a way that Tibby could have stolen it. Would her new master do something similar? Maybe he expected her to put the envelope away without looking at what it contained?
But Master Snape had so far not done anything like that. He was very clear and specific in his orders, and never left room for interpretation. These clothes in the room, for example – Master had explained to Tibby on her first day that any garment she found in his private quarters belonged to him only, and that she was specifically allowed to launder them or put them away. Any piece of clothing would only belong to her if she received it out of his hands. This was a precaution only few masters took, and it made life and work much easier for Tibby.
An employer who was so thoughtful was not likely to test his elves with something like this envelope dilemma. Also, Tibby thought, this envelope lay on the table as though Master had looked at its contents last night. She knew that he had gone to London on some task for Headmaster Dumbledore, and that he had returned quite late in the night. Whatever it was that this envelope contained, he had perused it during the hours of darkness. It seemed to be something that was important to him, and Tibby was very reluctant to touch something so valuable.
Tibby looked at the clock again. It was twenty minutes past ten now. Of course it was out of the question to wake Professor Snape, but maybe she could make him wake up by himself before she was to be finished with her duties… then she could ask him what he wanted her to do.
Grinning brightly, she darted into the laboratory and started rummaging for a broom, a bucked and a brush. Tibby was careful to create as much racket as possible. Eventually she set to her task of cleaning the footprints on the carpet away. She whistled a happy tune while scrubbing the floor with magical stain-remover, and once 'accidentally' let the broomstick fall so that it hit the fire-grate and made a loud, clanging noise.
Her tactic worked well. When she was on the second footprint she heard muffled sounds from the bedroom, and ultimately Master Snape opened the door. Although he looked pallid and tired he was fully clad as usual. Tibby immediately stopped whistling and tried to give the impression of being remorseful.
"It is only Tibby, Master," she explained urgently. "So sorry, Master, Tibby thinks you are upstairs for breakfast."
Master looked at her for a moment, torn between annoyance and exasperation.
"Didn't I tell you to take Sundays off?"
"Master only suggested Tibby should take free days. But Tibby is a good elf, Sir."
Master Snape mumbled something Tibby did not understand – the elf was sure that it was better that way – and then sighed.
"Alright, Tibby. If you insist on working you can take my clothes and clean them, and get me some tea."
He gestured to the boots in the corner and the coat. Tibby nodded eagerly.
"They are not for you to keep," the Potions Master repeated carefully, causing Tibby to smile brightly. She greatly enjoyed having a master who understood her needs.
"Yes, Sir. Thank you, Sir."
"What time is it?"
"Ten-thirty, Master."
"Dear Merlin."
Master staggered to his favourite arm-chair by the fireside and sat down. Tibby immediately fetched him some tea from the kitchens and a copy of the Daily Prophet – taking pride in the fact that it took her less than a minute. She placed the newspaper over the envelope and flapped her ears again, as though she was very excited about something.
"Tibby must apologise, Master."
"Now what for?"
"Is house-elf's duty to tidy Master's rooms before Sir wakes up. But Tibby has not yet cleaned the table."
"That's alright," he sighed. "You can do that later."
That did not help much. Tibby nodded and left him alone. She knew by now that he did not like company in the mornings, so she went to check if anything needed to be done in the bedroom and bathroom. Hopefully Master would detect the envelope when picking up the newspaper, and would then put it away himself.
She was done with putting fresh towels in the bathroom when she heard someone knocking on Professor Snape's door. Tibby rushed to answer the door and opened it just a second before Master could have done it.
Outside stood Professor Flitwick. Tibby beamed at the old wizard. She liked the head of Ravenclaw House a lot, partly because he was so small. His size made him less intimidating to house-elves.
"Good morning, Severus," the old man said politely, "And good morning – Tibby, is it?"
"Yes, Sir! Good morning, Sir!" Tibby squeaked delightedly while her master grumbled something that might pass for a greeting.
Professor Flitwick smiled at Tibby and then turned to Master Snape again.
"Severus," he said calmly, "I was wondering if I could have a word?"
"I cannot see how I could prevent that," Master replied sardonically, but he stepped aside to let the old wizard in.
Tibby closed the door behind him and looked at the Charms Professor.
"Would Sir like some tea?" she asked politely, pointing to the steaming teapot on the table.
"Yes, Tibby, that would be nice. If your master does not mind," Professor Flitwick replied.
Tibby's master shrugged and rolled his eyes, which she interpreted as 'yes'. She quickly apparated to the kitchens and fetched another cup. When she returned, the older wizard had already sat down on the settee and Master Snape occupied his armchair again. He put all the documents on table together in one pile to make room for Professor Flitwick's teacup.
"Would you put all these on my desk, Tibby?" he said. "And please put the book back on the shelf where it belongs."
Finally, these were clear orders. With the envelope hidden in the pile of other papers and magazines, Tibby took into the other room and put the stack on Master's table. Then she returned to the main room to put the book away. Professor Flitwick, who had been looking at it, gave it to her.
"Opus de venenis?" he asked Tibby's master.
"Yes. The English version, of course. I am unable to read the original."
"It is a shame we do not teach the old languages any more," Professor Flitwick sighed. "Latin, Gaelic, Old Greek and Renaissance Italian… these are fundamental to understanding certain charms."
"Or potions texts. But I seem to have managed so far."
Tibby could tell that Master was definitely in a bad mood this morning, and he was anything but happy that the Charms Professor had dropped by for an unexpected visit.
She quickly put the valuable tome on its shelf and then went back to Master's office. Tibby was certain that Master would not like her to go on scrubbing the floor while he talked with his guest, so she would get started with her work here in the office. Some of those disgusting jars needed dusting again, and that lamp above the desk could do with some cleaning, too.
In the meantime, the two wizards in the other room had fallen silent again. Tibby climbed on Master's desk and pushed the pile of papers to the edge, then she climbed on the stacked papers and stood on tip-toes. Balancing carefully, she was just able to reach the lamp and dust it. The uncomfortable silence in the other room went on for another few moments.
"Severus, I have come to apologise to you," Tibby then heard Professor Flitwick's voice from the other room.
She pricked her ears up while working on the lamp. This was getting interesting… Master did not reply, and after a few seconds the other Professor went on.
"Our behaviour last night was… childish and inappropriate. I do apologise for taking part in this."
Tibby almost lost her balance on the stack of papers because she had instinctively leaned to the door, trying to catch every word. Maybe this work was too dangerous to do while accidentally overhearing a conversation.
She climbed down from the desk and put a light ladder against the storage rack on the wall. While she started dusting the top row of jars, Master finally answered.
"Childish is just the word for it," Master Snape replied slowly.
Tibby grinned. Whatever this was about, her master was not going to make this easy for the Head of Ravenclaw. She went on with dusting the glasses, but was careful to be as quiet as possible.
"We got carried away," Master Flitwick said. "Although it seemed fun then, I can well imagine the situation must have been uncomfortable for you and Minerva."
Again, the Potions Master did not reply right away, but when he did answer Tibby knew that he was not very angry with the other teacher. Not any more, at least.
"My mistake," he said darkly. "I should have suggested another route for the way back. That kind of behaviour was to be expected from Pomona, or even Aurora – actually I am surprised that the Headmaster was not there for a good laugh. You and old Binns taking part in this scheme, that came unexpected."
"Dumbledore was away until very late in the night. And I must speak up in defence of Cuthbert – he has no sense of humour whatsoever; he believed what he was saying."
"Does that make it any better?"
Professor Flitwick laughed, apparently he had also understood that the younger man was not really angry any more.
"I suppose not," he said in a grandfatherly voice. "I shall go and explain the situation to him. What a shame, he was quite happy that this feud of Slytherin and Gryffindor had come to an end – and such a romantic one at that."
Tibby did not quite follow him there, and anyway she was distracted by the jars in front of her. That stuff inside the glass containers looked like frog-spawn, at least Tibby hoped that her guess was right. Some of those tiny egg-like things seemed to move around on their own accord.
"Never," Master declared in the other room. "The rivalry with Gryffindor House is the one thing that makes life in this school bearable."
"Is that so, Severus?" Professor Flitwick asked. "You know, that is a very sad thing to say."
Once more, Master Snape did not answer. This was truly an interesting conversation. He was rarely ever lost for words – Master always insulted someone, or made dry, sarcastic remarks, or shouted. If he now had to think before choosing the right words for his answer, then the Head of Ravenclaw House must have said something that troubled him more than he liked to show.
Tibby moved her ears forward again, but she could not catch a sound but the soft clinking of a teacup placed back on the saucer. She carefully climbed down from her ladder and sneaked closer to the door.
"Your apology is welcome and accepted," Master said after a while, sounding extraordinarily formal. "You should maybe go and speak to Minerva, too. I should think that she will be quite upset – more than I was."
"Naturally I have spoken to her already," Professor Flitwick protested. "It is good manners to go and talk to the lady first. But don't you change the subject, Severus."
"Is there anything special you are trying to tell me?"
Tibby had moved to a spot where she could see the men now. The Charms Professor was drinking more of his tea, while Master was watching him closely. Master Snape appeared to be very much on his guard, but not yet angry. Maybe.
"Nothing special, my lad. Thinking about this whole matter just made me realise what a lonely man you must be. And I wonder if you are lonely because you like it, or because you have forgotten that there are other ways to live –" the old wizard raised his hand and smiled when he saw the irritated expression on the younger man's face, "No, I don't want you to answer that one. Just think about it once in a while."
"You are doing an uncanny impression of our Headmaster," the Head of Slytherin said coldly, but he looked away from the other teacher while saying it.
"Forgive me. It must be a catching habit among old men."
"Forgive me if I do not understand what message you are attempting to convey. Right after apologising for trying to force me into the most unlikely relationship ever, those hints seem… badly chosen."
The old Charms Professor laughed, merrily like a child who has just seen something comical.
"The most unlikely ever – with Lockhart here in the castle?"
"Don't try to be funny, Filius," Master Snape replied warningly.
"Then let me get back to my topic. Severus, I was a married man. Although my wife has now been dead for many years, I still miss her dearly, but life went on. I know what it means to be lonely, and I also know that you deserve better. Love cannot be forced, so rest assured that I will not instruct you to start a relationship with our Deputy Headmistress – although I must say that you would make a lovely couple. No, all I am telling you is to consider that it might be time to move on."
"Move on from what?" Master Snape spat out.
Tibby tried to hide as well as possible. She could tell he was angry now, and she did not want him to discover her eavesdropping.
"I do not know, lad. Please do remember that we do not know anything of your personal life. All I can say is that life experience has taught me that no young man chooses to be lonely and unhappy. At least no young man should."
The tiny Charms Professor put his teacup back on the table and jumped from his seat on the settee. Thankfully he stood with his back to Tibby and Master Snape was looking only at him, so she could go on watching them.
"I think I should better go now, Severus," the old man said. "I have to two boys due for detention in fifteen minutes. Thank you for the tea and – once more, my apologies."
Master got up from his seat as well and went to the door. He opened it, mumbling something about accepting the apology and so on – Tibby did not quite catch his meaning because suddenly she realised that Professor Flitwick smiled at her.
He had spotted her watching! Now she could only hope that he would not tell Master – Tibby knew for sure that she would be in big trouble if Master caught her after eavesdropping on such a personal exchange. She turned around and dashed to her ladder again when –
BANG! In her panic, Tibby had run head-long into the desk. Papers and bottles with foul-smelling potion samples fell on the floor and right on top of her. When Tibby opened her watering eyes, she saw that cursed brown envelope right in front of her – and to her horror, it had opened and its contents had slipped out of it.
The house-elf sat up slowly, clutching her hurting head. It felt as though she had a laceration somewhere there, but now there was no time for that. She had to find out which papers belonged into the envelope and replace them.
Tibby looked around. There were all kinds of parchments with Master's handwriting, and a few student essays partly hidden under The Art of Defence – that certainly did not belong in the envelope. She quickly sorted through the papers and then found what she was looking for, instantly knowing that this must be the object Master had studied during the previous night.
There was a piece ripped out of a newspaper article, already old and crumbling. Only half of the headline was still there; it started with 'The Boy Who' and right under it there was a sub-heading, saying 'Parents James and Li'. But apparently Master had not kept this piece of paper because of the article. There was a photograph to go with the text, and it also was torn in two halves – the one Tibby could see showed a young, red-headed woman wearing a white dress and laughing happily.
Tibby carefully flattened the paper and put it back into the envelope. Then she looked around to see if there was more – and sure enough, there was another picture of the same woman, still a girl then and wearing the Hogwarts school uniform. Soon Tibby found a third picture, this one a motionless Muggle photograph. It showed a girl of maybe eleven or twelve years, together with a black-haired boy in ill-fitting Muggle clothes. Her vivid red hair was proof enough that this was the same girl as in the other pictures. Tibby did not know the boy, although he looked vaguely familiar.
"What are you doing there?" a cold, well-known voice asked behind her.
"Tibby is sorry!" she screeched in panic. "I knows Tibby is not to touch this! Tibby will punish herself, Tibby is so sorry –"
Without even looking at her master, Tibby stuffed the other two photographs into the envelope and started banging her head against the desk. More papers and vials fell down. It hurt terribly, but Tibby went on and on until Master snatched her by the scruff of the neck and forced her to stop.
"What on earth is that supposed to be?" he hissed. "Now sit still and tell me what happened."
"Tibby was listening," she said miserably. "And then Master Flitwick sees Tibby and I runs away, and into Master's desk, and the papers all fall down."
"Why did you look at them?"
"Tibby does not mean to, Sir, Tibby is sorry!"
Again she made to move for the desk, but he caught her and pinned her down with a rough curse.
"Photographs fall out of the envelope. Master must not have closed it properly last night. Tibby only wants to replace them. Tibby does not know what photographs mean."
"You do not know the girl in the pictures?"
"No, Sir," Tibby said quietly and held the envelope out for him to take. It now looked even more battered and worn.
"She is looking very pretty, Sir," she added, trying to say something nice.
"That she was," he replied absent-mindedly while examining the envelope.
"Was?"
"Was. She died eleven years ago."
"Tibby is sorry, Master."
"It was hardly your fault," he said harshly.
Tibby rubbed her hurting head. She felt even more wretched when she saw that there now was a fresh red stain on the brown paper her master was holding. She must have dripped blood on it while trying to punish herself.
"For that," she pointed to the envelope. "Tibby is sorry for that. Will get you a new one."
The wizard and the elf looked at each other for a few seconds. Tibby still had not quite figured out if she was in trouble, or if Master was angry about something else. Her head was spinning, and she felt faint.
"Sit here and wait," he suddenly said.
He put the envelope on his desk and walked out of the room. Tibby felt nauseous. A minute later Master returned with a cloth and a small bottle. He put some sharp-smelling liquid on the cloth and dabbed it on Tibby's head. The pain did not disappear, but grew better.
"This will stop the bleeding," he said. "Can you press that cloth to the wound?"
"Yes, Sir."
Tibby did as he said.
"You probably have a concussion. Listen, Tibby, I will take you to Madam Pomfrey right away, but there is one thing – two things – you have to promise me first."
"Master?"
"Never mention those photographs to anyone."
Tibby nodded. She had already guessed that.
"And never punish yourself again. If you think you deserve to be reprimanded, you are to come to me and tell me what you did wrong, and then I will decide on your punishment – believe me, I am good at that. You are not allowed to punish yourself – that is an order."
"Yes, Master," Tibby managed weakly.
She felt weak, but grateful at the same time. And she still felt terribly guilty about having seen the pictures.
"Tibby will replace the envelope," she promised. "Will get nice and new one for the photographs of the beautiful girl."
Master had in the meantime conjured up a small stretcher and levitated it next to Tibby.
"Get on the stretcher and lie still," he ordered. "I have to get you to the hospital wing."
Tibby did lie down. The pain in her head got a little better, but the floating sensation of the moving stretcher made her dizzy. She swallowed hard while Master levitated her to the fireplace and took the box of floo powder.
"Never mind the envelope," she heard him say while drifting out of consciousness. "Maybe Filius is right –"
- - - - - - - - - - - - -
Tibby had to stay in the hospital wing for one night only. When she returned to her working place on Monday, her master acted as though nothing had happened. Tibby was glad of it and went on with her cleaning work in the office.
It took her a few days to notice that the bottom right drawer of Master's desk was not locked any more. When she finally had the courage to open it, she found nothing but spare quills and a bottle of dark green ink. The pictures of the red-headed girl were gone. Tibby was certain that she would never see them again.
When Master happened to see Tibby cleaning that particular drawer, he smiled at her for just a second – a very rare thing to happen, and it was a strange, unhappy smile. Tibby had the impression that he was both sad and relieved, but she thought it wiser not to comment on that.