10. The Dark Mark
Unfortunately her happiness did not last too long. Snape had disappeared down the corridor when Laurel heard a soft sound through the door of the Potions class room.
She opened the door and found Neville Longbottom kneeling on the floor, scraping up something that looked like greenish jelly from the stones. Hermione Granger, hunched on her heels, was talking softly to him.
"Neville, I am sure Trevor didn't feel anything."
Neville shook his head vigorously. "Did you see him stare at Snape? He knew, Mione! He knew!"
Laurel stepped closer. "What is going on?"
Hermione and Neville both gave a start. The girl looked at Laurel with a mix of anger and relief. "Laurel! I mean, Miss Hunter." She blushed. "It is strange, having you as a teacher and all."
"You tell me," Laurel sighed. Taking in Neville's tear streaked face and puffy eyes and the green glibber he held, she sat on a desk.
"Professor Snape killed Trevor," Hermione accused.
"Trevor?"
"Neville's toad. He made him drink Neville's Engorgement Potion."
Neville sniffed and looked down at Trevor's sorry remains. "He knew I got it wrong again. Too much blowfish bile."
"So Trevor grew … and grew," Hermione said with a pitiful look at Neville. "And finally he exploded."
"Trevor was just a toad," Neville tried to be brave. "But he was a very nice toad. He did not deserve this."
Laurel clenched her fists. "Professor Snape knew your potion was too strong and still tested it on Trevor?" she repeated with a strained voice.
Hermione nodded furiously. "He did it on purpose, to torture Neville! He can be such a jerk!" Her hand flew to her mouth. "I am sorry, Miss Hunter, I didn't mean …"
"Oh yes, you meant it," Laurel hissed. "And so do I."
Laurel's broom stuttered and stalled when she slowed at the foot of the hill which rose gracefully between the lake and the Forbidden Forest. She wasn't even sure if Severus had kept their date. He probably sat in the dungeons and invented another potion to torture some poor kid. The broom went down and died four foot over the ground. Impatiently she jumped off and kicked the handle.
Snape, leaning against the trunk of an ancient oak, winced. "No wonder your broom fails you if you treat it like this."
"I don't care," she snapped. "People are not made to ride brooms. They ride aeroplanes. And busses. And cars."
"Wizards ride brooms. If they can't Apparate, that is."
His arrogant voice made her want to punch him. Hard. And still, the anger didn't stop her heart from jumping at the sight of him, the curtain of black hair, the strong features, the lean, angular body.
Severus rose a brow. "It is not like you to kick an innocent object, when it is really me you want to kick."
"So you agree that you deserve a kick?"
"Is this about Lupin? Again?"
Laurel gritted her teeth in frustration. "No, it is not."
"Good."
"It is about Neville Longbottom."
Snape rolled his eyes exasperatedly. Would she ever stop criticising his teaching methods? Would he ever be good enough in her eyes? And why did he give a damn about what she thought about him?
"Mr. Longbottom. I see. What about him?"
"Are you planing to scare him to death one of these days?"
He patted the ground next to him. "Why don't you sit down and have something to eat and yell at me afterwards?"
Laurel sat down, but only to shake her head vigorously when he offered her one of the sandwiches the house-elves had provided him with. "I am not hungry, thank you."
"This … picnic," he gestured at the basket at his feet and the folded blanket, "was your idea, Miss Hunter."
"I lost my appetite when I saw what you did to Trevor."
"Who for Merlin's sake is Trevor?"
"Neville's toad."
"Would you rather have me feed Longbottom his faulty potions himself?"
"He is afraid of you, Severus! If you keep yelling at him like this, one day he'll …"
"One day he'll take a stand and yell back. And he'll never be afraid again."
He said it flatly and without emotion.
"You were trying to make him stand up for himself? Like you tried with Lupin?"
His gaze didn't waver. "And again, I failed."
Her anger evaporated. She hugged her knees and looked at him with narrowed eyes. "You know," she said slowly, "I can't see through you."
"You don't seriously expect me to be worried about that, do you?"
"I see myself very clearly," she continued without paying attention to his sarcasm. "And I am quite good at that, sizing up people. Only here at Hogwarts nothing and nobody is what they appear to be."
Snape saw her sucking her bottom lip. She seemed to be in deep distress. He kneeled next to her and held out his hand. "Let's go for a walk."
Silently they walked up the low slope until they reached the top of the hill. Fall had come early, turning bushes and trees into a whirl of colours. From their elevated stand they could see the giant squid do lazy backstrokes in the lake.
"I apologise." Laurel said it softly when Snape pointed out the boundaries of Hogwarts.
His head jerked. "You what?"
"I apologise for yelling at you. I was angry and …"
He waited patiently.
"I should have known better. I should have asked for your reasons before I judged you."
"Did you really think I was just cruel?" He didn't intend it but his voice sounded bitter.
"I was afraid you enjoyed bullying Neville."
"Well, I do not."
"Good."
"Can we drop the subject now? I am not a patient man, as you well know, and you are trying me sorely today."
"Will you stop scaring Neville?"
"No. Not until he digs up some courage."
"Not everybody is like you, Severus."
A fierce pain shot through his forearm. Snape winced. Not right now!
"What are you trying to say?" he managed.
Laurel looked at him, suddenly recognising the cold sweat on his forehead.
"Are you OK?"
"What did you mean, like me?"
Her eyes never left his. She'd take him back to see Madame Pomfrey any minute, she swore to herself. He didn't look well at all.
"You think you can stand alone," she said softly.
He tried to say something, but the pain in his arm took his breath away. His face, always sallow, had turned ashen.
"You don't need anybody, you can survive on your own. But others crave friends, love, support. Neville lost his parents. So did Harry. "
"That is no excuse. Potter keeps breaking the rules! And I shall not have it. Is that so hard to understand, Laurel?"
She crossed her arms, angry and worried at the same time..
"You broke every rule there is, you … moron! As far as I know you invented and perfected Rulebreaking!"
He forgot to breath. White hot anger almost choked him. His right hand seized his left forearm and convulsively rubbed it. "I am paying for it!" he suddenly roared. "I'll pay for it until I die!" Grabbing the sleeve of his robe, he tore the black material up until it revealed a black skull on his arm - not merely a tattoo as Laurel thought at first glance - but something much nastier, something - alive. A snake was slithering through the empty eyesockets of the grinning skull. She watched it for a moment, fascinated and repulsed at the same time.
"What … what is that?"
"The Dark Mark. This is what you get if you break the rules." He closed his eyes and held the mark again, as if it caused great pain. "If you are unfortunate enough to survive."
"I have never seen it before."
"It only appears when Voldemort calls his faithful servants. I want you to go to Dumbledore. Now."
"Calling you? Why would he …"
He gasped. "Laurel, I have no time for explanations. For once in your live, do what I tell you!"
She saw him flicker.
"What is happening?"
„I am Apparating out of here. Got to … See Dumbledore," he mouthed. "Follow his advice."
"You can't Apparate from Hogwarts! It can not be done from the school grounds."
"Watch me."
"Severus?"
He vanished.
* * *
Dumbledore nodded towards a cushioned chair. "Ah, Miss Hunter. I have been expecting you. Allow me one moment to finish this," he said and kept combing Fawkes. The big scarlet-golden bird was cooing in ecstasy.
"Why don't you make us some tea? Grooming Fawkes always makes my throat dry."
Laurel jumped. She had been starring at the pictures in the circular room where dozens of former Headmasters snored.
"Oh, OK." She looked around but could see neither kettle nor cups. One of the Headmasters next to the door opened his eyes and winked at her. When she frowned, he drew the wand from his sleeve and waved it suggestively. Laurel blushed. "Of course. I am supposed to do it with the wand."
She could see the page from "A Beginner's Guide to Kitchen Spells" before her inner eye. The witch in the book made it look so easy. Under the watchful eyes of several Headmasters she searched for her wand which tended to get lost in her sleeve. How did they all do it?
"Simple Burdock charm," Dumbledore said as if to Fawkes who lazily opened an eye. "Keeps the wand where it is supposed to be."
Laurel pointed at the carved side table and concentrated. A large tray appeared out of thin air, with a plate of cauldron cakes, a jug of milk, two thin china cups and a steaming … fish. The Headmasters in their golden frames shook with silent laughter. Laurel let the fish vanish very fast and tried again. She got closer this time, but a flowerpot wouldn't do either. Her fifth attempt and the united effort of Headmasters from four centuries eventually produced a perfect teapot. A faint scent of caramel filled the room.
When Dumbledore put down the comb, Fawkes gave Laurel an offended look but settled down at the armrest of her chair. She offered the Headmaster a cup of tea and perched at the edge of the chair, ready to jump. The anxiety she had felt since Snape had Apparated without an explanation made her restless.
Dumbledore sat down next to her, chose one of the cakes from the platter and took a sip of tea.
"Very nice, this tea, my dear. Now, what else shall we do to distract you while Severus is away?"
"Distract me?" she stared at him blankly.
"You worry about him too much."
"How could he Apparate out of Hogwarts?" she asked, still confused. "I thought there was a magical barrier that prevented everyone from Apparating in and out?"
"At least some of the students pay attention at class," Dumbledore smiled. "You are right of course. But where there is a lock, there will be a key. Severus can come and go as he pleases."
"Because you gave him the key."
"That's right."
"Because he is your spy. What if they find out about him?"
"Let us not even think about that."
Laurel couldn't suppress a sob.
"He is a master of deceit," she tried to calm herself.
"He is." Dumbledore nodded gravely. "Severus is under great pressure right now, in the middle of terror and evil. Because of the tie you shall feel the need to support him spiritually. But he must be at Voldemort's without a trace of you. Do not reach out for him. Believe me, as the Dementors can smell despair, so can Voldemort. Any emotion. All Severus is supposed to feel is naked fear in the presence of the Dark Lord. Not reassurance, not warmth, not hope. It would only betray him."
"But you said earlier I was to support him? How am I supposed to do that?"
"Not while he is there. At Voldemort's court he is on his own. But when he is back …"
"He'll be back. Soon, won't he?" she begged for reassurance.
"I do hope so. Usually it takes but a few hours, not long enough to make anybody suspicious about the Death Eaters' absence. But for Severus it will feel like days have passed. When he returns he'll need you."
She forced herself to relax, and hesitantly sipped her tea. It was hard to wrench her thoughts away from the dark fear in the back of her mind. The old wizard watched her lean back and breath carefully and disciplined. He smiled.
"You have learned a great deal since you came to Hogwarts School, Miss Hunter. Two years ago you would have set fire by now because your emotions would have overwhelmed you."
"It is Severus," she replied with a crooked smile. "Somehow I can borrow his discipline, his restraint, if I need it."
"Like he can borrow your emotions, your warmth. The tie, you see? It was supposed to strengthen both of you in the areas you lacked. And it did." With a swift motion he changed the subject. "Now, tell me about your first day on the other side of the desk. How did it go?"
She smiled at him. "Not too bad. The Silencing Spell seemed to work. Not that I could tell since I can not hear Binns anyway. The students needed some time to adapt, though."
"They'll learn to survive without the extra hour of sleep Professor Binns' classes offered."
A faint crackle in the air alarmed Dumbledore. He cocked his head. "Severus is back, I assume."
Laurel sat up. The conversation with the gentle wise wizard had not only distracted her but let her forget about the danger Snape was currently in. Now the anxiety returned even more forcefully.
Out of nowhere a figure Apparated in the middle of the room. Snape stood for a few seconds with his eyes wide open. Then he tumbled and fell to his knees.
Dumpledore bent down to him and studied his eyes. "Who am I, Severus?" His voice was gentle but steely.
Laurel bit her lips. "What's wrong with him?"
"The Dark Lord's presence can erase any memory, much like the Dementors' kiss. All that remains is an empty shell."
"You are Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster of Hogwarts," Snape replied softly. His voice croaked as if he had spent the last hours screaming from the top of his lungs. "You have cake icing in your beard."
"He is fine." Dumbledore smiled reassuringly and stepped behind his desk. "Is there anything that needs my immediate attention, Severus?"
"No."
"You can report tomorrow. I suggest, Miss Hunter, you take care of him now."
"I don't need anybody to take care of me," protested Snape faintly and tried to stand up.
"Of course, you don't," nodded the Headmaster.
"I am fine."
Laurel reached out to support him when he tumbled.
The old wizard rose his busy eyebrows. "Perfectly fine, Severus." He went to the fireplace and opened a jar with Floo dust. A sprinkle let the flames turn green. "Off you go, both of you."
A moment later they stumbled out of the fireplace in Snape's quarters.
He insisted in washing his face and hands without assistance but did not put up too much of a fight when she helped him to change out of his robes into a loose shirt and pyjama pants.
Worried, Laurel watched him close his eyes repeatedly, then shake his head forcefully as if to clear his mind. His hand was clamped around one of the wooden posters of the huge bed.
A loud knock at the door made her turn. When she opened, Franny, one of the house-elves, stumbled in, balancing a heavy tray stacked with bowls and plates.
"Franny brings the Potions master to eat, best things found in the kitchen, Franny does."
"Thank you, Franny. That was very thoughtful of you." She took the tray from the beaming elf's hands.
Severus looked at the food. "I don't know if I can eat this."
"When was the last time you ate?"
"I don't remember … Days ago?"
She smiled and set the tray on the floor in front of the fireplace. "You should really get another chair and maybe a table."
"I got all the furniture I need."
"A bed?"
"You never complained about the bed. Do you really want to do it on a table?"
She looked up and saw the sarcastic smile, and breathed out in relief. If he was up to snide remarks, he had to be all right.
"I thought we might extend our relationship from picnic to dinner."
"Why?"
She put the silverware down and stood up. "I am not comfortable with all these lies. But I understand that they are necessary. I'd just like to spend some time with you."
He looked at her, his eyes investigating her face for any signs of ridicule. Then he sighed.
"I am sorry I put you through this. The deceit. The danger."
"You never promised me anything else. I knew what I agreed with."
"We could have tea in here every other day. If you like."
She smiled, and the warmth that radiated from her made him dizzy. After a moment of silence she moved the chair closer to the fireplace.
"Try to eat something, Severus. You need to replenish your resources. You look like a ghost."
"You would not see me then, would you?"
"True. You look worse than a ghost."
"I am fine."
"Headmaster Dumbledore advised me to feed you, distract you and make sure you slept, so that's what I am going to do."
He sneered. "I am not your patient, Miss Hunter."
"Just once, Severus, do as you are told. Eat!"
He pointed his wand at the fireplace and cast "Ignite!". A crackling fire appeared out of nowhere. Then, still scowling, he sat down on the floor. After a few cautious bites he suddenly started to wolfe down meat and potatoes like the starving wizard he was.
Laurel watched him from the bed. She assumed that soon after the meal he would fall asleep from exhaustion. So all she had to do was distract him for half an hour or so, and then get him into bed and tuck him in.
"Severus?"
He looked up, swallowing.
"Do you remember our … our …"
"Our fight, before I Apparated?"
"We didn't fight."
His eyes held her captive. "If we didn't fight, what was it we did?"
"We had a discussion."
"You called me a moron."
"Because you behaved like one."
"Ah." He tore off a piece of bread. "What will you call me if we ever had a fight?"
"Believe me, you don't want to know."
"Remind me, what exactly made me a moron?"
"The way you treat your students. I am serious about this. Neville Longbottom almost dies from fear whenever you look at him, and I can understand why."
"I never look at you that way."
"Lucky me, then! I am not a kid, Severus, and even I was scared when you yelled at me that first evening at detention!"
His thoughts flashed back to the moment when he recognised that what he really wanted was to pull her into his arms and kiss her. Instead he had yelled at her and called her irresponsible. What's a wizard to do?
"And that poor girl from Hufflepuff, Emily something."
"Shanks. Emily Shanks. She could be Longbottom's twin."
"She petrifies when you enter the class room. She is quite clever and really sweet in all her other classes."
"I don't expect my students to be sweet. I expect them to not blow up the classroom."
"And Harry. He is not stupid, not clumsy. Why do you hate him so much?"
She poured two goblets of wine and passed him one.
„I don't hate Harry. He just reminds me of James in the most annoying way."
"James?"
"James Potter, his father." He took a sip of wine and sighed. "We were both students at the same time. Of course he was in Gryffindor and I in Slytherin."
"Were you friends?"
Snape rose a dark brow. "I just said that he was a Gryffindor, didn't I?"
"So?"
Impatiently he swiped her question away. "No, James and I were never friends. He and his merry band made my life hell whenever they could. And I hated them from the bottom of my heart."
"You can't blame the boy for what his father did to you, Severus. By the way - what exactly did James do to make you hate him even sixteen years after his death?"
"He saved my life."
She stared at him, kneeling in front of the fire, warming his hands.
"That was … really mean?" She tried to joke, but there was no sign of a smile, not even the twitch in the corner of his mouth that had become so familiar.
"I owe James, and can never pay him back. He got himself killed and left me with the obligation to protect the boy. And Harry is just like his damned father, as arrogant, as vain, as thoughtless."
Laurel sat down in the low chair next to the fireplace and let him talk. After a while he leaned back until his head rested against her knee, a position they both liked.
"And just like James he is going to get himself killed one of these days. There are no rules for the Potters, and they never think about the damage their foolheaded bravery does to others."
"He is only a boy, Severus."
"He is not. He is the boy who lived. That is his fate. He has no time for trial and error like other kids. His errors will get him killed, like his father."
He closed his eyes and was only too conscious of her hands stroking his hair, carefully avoiding to touch his face. "I am his teacher and I make him follow the rules. He hates me for that. So what? If I get him through this war alive my dept will be settled. Let them all hate me if they only survive."
"I see."
"That goes especially for mature students turned teacher."
Her hand found the back of his neck and he had to fight a moan of pleasure.
"But I always follow the rules, Professor!"
He smirked. "Sure."
"Even now, I am only here with the explicit permission of Headmaster Dumbledore."
"If it wasn't so I'd send you right back to your bedroom."
Now it was her time to chuckle. "You are really tough, Potions master. But you must admit you are biased in a horrible way. You take points from each house except your precious little snakes."
He looked at her, eyes hard like black stones. "Precious. Yes. They are, if only to me."
She fought for understanding.
He sneered and turned his face towards the fire. The warmth relaxed him as did her hand that had wandered down his neck to his shoulders, casually massaging the knots in his muscles. "The Hat doesn't Sort students into Slytherin for no reason. They are the scarred, the unwanted, very often the abused. They crave power because they need it to survive. Before Hogwarts, many of them never knew how it felt if someone was on their side. Unconditionally. No matter what."
"Even if this means to treat other students unfair?"
"Even then. Especially then." He let his head sink back. "Don't you see it makes all the difference?"
She slowly rose her hand and touched his jaw. For a short moment he indulged in her touch and closed his eyes. Out of experience she knew better than caressing him, but just let her hand where it was.
"And you say you don't love, Severus."
"I don't." His voice was harsh.
"So pray tell me what is love? If not what you give your house?"
"I give them what I would have needed when I was a student in Slytherin."
Laurel found the restraint in his face almost unbearable. How did he manage to live with all this sadness in him and yet appear so cold and in control?
"You ought to sleep," she whispered. Her voice cracked and she hid the emotion behind a cough. "Dumbledore told me to make sure you slept."
He seized both her wrists and pulled her down to him on the carpet in front of the fire where she found herself in a tight embrace, his face buried in her hair. "I am glad you are back. I should have told you before."
"Severus?" she asked softly after a while, not sure whether he was still awake or fast asleep.
When he mumbled something unintelligible she said: "How was it? There?"
"It was bad."
He cradled her in his arms like a child would hold a favourite doll, his body wrapped around hers like a coat, a shield, and the last thought she could clearly grasp before she fell asleep, too, was that it should be her to hold him, and he the one to be held.
* * *
Unfortunately her happiness did not last too long. Snape had disappeared down the corridor when Laurel heard a soft sound through the door of the Potions class room.
She opened the door and found Neville Longbottom kneeling on the floor, scraping up something that looked like greenish jelly from the stones. Hermione Granger, hunched on her heels, was talking softly to him.
"Neville, I am sure Trevor didn't feel anything."
Neville shook his head vigorously. "Did you see him stare at Snape? He knew, Mione! He knew!"
Laurel stepped closer. "What is going on?"
Hermione and Neville both gave a start. The girl looked at Laurel with a mix of anger and relief. "Laurel! I mean, Miss Hunter." She blushed. "It is strange, having you as a teacher and all."
"You tell me," Laurel sighed. Taking in Neville's tear streaked face and puffy eyes and the green glibber he held, she sat on a desk.
"Professor Snape killed Trevor," Hermione accused.
"Trevor?"
"Neville's toad. He made him drink Neville's Engorgement Potion."
Neville sniffed and looked down at Trevor's sorry remains. "He knew I got it wrong again. Too much blowfish bile."
"So Trevor grew … and grew," Hermione said with a pitiful look at Neville. "And finally he exploded."
"Trevor was just a toad," Neville tried to be brave. "But he was a very nice toad. He did not deserve this."
Laurel clenched her fists. "Professor Snape knew your potion was too strong and still tested it on Trevor?" she repeated with a strained voice.
Hermione nodded furiously. "He did it on purpose, to torture Neville! He can be such a jerk!" Her hand flew to her mouth. "I am sorry, Miss Hunter, I didn't mean …"
"Oh yes, you meant it," Laurel hissed. "And so do I."
Laurel's broom stuttered and stalled when she slowed at the foot of the hill which rose gracefully between the lake and the Forbidden Forest. She wasn't even sure if Severus had kept their date. He probably sat in the dungeons and invented another potion to torture some poor kid. The broom went down and died four foot over the ground. Impatiently she jumped off and kicked the handle.
Snape, leaning against the trunk of an ancient oak, winced. "No wonder your broom fails you if you treat it like this."
"I don't care," she snapped. "People are not made to ride brooms. They ride aeroplanes. And busses. And cars."
"Wizards ride brooms. If they can't Apparate, that is."
His arrogant voice made her want to punch him. Hard. And still, the anger didn't stop her heart from jumping at the sight of him, the curtain of black hair, the strong features, the lean, angular body.
Severus rose a brow. "It is not like you to kick an innocent object, when it is really me you want to kick."
"So you agree that you deserve a kick?"
"Is this about Lupin? Again?"
Laurel gritted her teeth in frustration. "No, it is not."
"Good."
"It is about Neville Longbottom."
Snape rolled his eyes exasperatedly. Would she ever stop criticising his teaching methods? Would he ever be good enough in her eyes? And why did he give a damn about what she thought about him?
"Mr. Longbottom. I see. What about him?"
"Are you planing to scare him to death one of these days?"
He patted the ground next to him. "Why don't you sit down and have something to eat and yell at me afterwards?"
Laurel sat down, but only to shake her head vigorously when he offered her one of the sandwiches the house-elves had provided him with. "I am not hungry, thank you."
"This … picnic," he gestured at the basket at his feet and the folded blanket, "was your idea, Miss Hunter."
"I lost my appetite when I saw what you did to Trevor."
"Who for Merlin's sake is Trevor?"
"Neville's toad."
"Would you rather have me feed Longbottom his faulty potions himself?"
"He is afraid of you, Severus! If you keep yelling at him like this, one day he'll …"
"One day he'll take a stand and yell back. And he'll never be afraid again."
He said it flatly and without emotion.
"You were trying to make him stand up for himself? Like you tried with Lupin?"
His gaze didn't waver. "And again, I failed."
Her anger evaporated. She hugged her knees and looked at him with narrowed eyes. "You know," she said slowly, "I can't see through you."
"You don't seriously expect me to be worried about that, do you?"
"I see myself very clearly," she continued without paying attention to his sarcasm. "And I am quite good at that, sizing up people. Only here at Hogwarts nothing and nobody is what they appear to be."
Snape saw her sucking her bottom lip. She seemed to be in deep distress. He kneeled next to her and held out his hand. "Let's go for a walk."
Silently they walked up the low slope until they reached the top of the hill. Fall had come early, turning bushes and trees into a whirl of colours. From their elevated stand they could see the giant squid do lazy backstrokes in the lake.
"I apologise." Laurel said it softly when Snape pointed out the boundaries of Hogwarts.
His head jerked. "You what?"
"I apologise for yelling at you. I was angry and …"
He waited patiently.
"I should have known better. I should have asked for your reasons before I judged you."
"Did you really think I was just cruel?" He didn't intend it but his voice sounded bitter.
"I was afraid you enjoyed bullying Neville."
"Well, I do not."
"Good."
"Can we drop the subject now? I am not a patient man, as you well know, and you are trying me sorely today."
"Will you stop scaring Neville?"
"No. Not until he digs up some courage."
"Not everybody is like you, Severus."
A fierce pain shot through his forearm. Snape winced. Not right now!
"What are you trying to say?" he managed.
Laurel looked at him, suddenly recognising the cold sweat on his forehead.
"Are you OK?"
"What did you mean, like me?"
Her eyes never left his. She'd take him back to see Madame Pomfrey any minute, she swore to herself. He didn't look well at all.
"You think you can stand alone," she said softly.
He tried to say something, but the pain in his arm took his breath away. His face, always sallow, had turned ashen.
"You don't need anybody, you can survive on your own. But others crave friends, love, support. Neville lost his parents. So did Harry. "
"That is no excuse. Potter keeps breaking the rules! And I shall not have it. Is that so hard to understand, Laurel?"
She crossed her arms, angry and worried at the same time..
"You broke every rule there is, you … moron! As far as I know you invented and perfected Rulebreaking!"
He forgot to breath. White hot anger almost choked him. His right hand seized his left forearm and convulsively rubbed it. "I am paying for it!" he suddenly roared. "I'll pay for it until I die!" Grabbing the sleeve of his robe, he tore the black material up until it revealed a black skull on his arm - not merely a tattoo as Laurel thought at first glance - but something much nastier, something - alive. A snake was slithering through the empty eyesockets of the grinning skull. She watched it for a moment, fascinated and repulsed at the same time.
"What … what is that?"
"The Dark Mark. This is what you get if you break the rules." He closed his eyes and held the mark again, as if it caused great pain. "If you are unfortunate enough to survive."
"I have never seen it before."
"It only appears when Voldemort calls his faithful servants. I want you to go to Dumbledore. Now."
"Calling you? Why would he …"
He gasped. "Laurel, I have no time for explanations. For once in your live, do what I tell you!"
She saw him flicker.
"What is happening?"
„I am Apparating out of here. Got to … See Dumbledore," he mouthed. "Follow his advice."
"You can't Apparate from Hogwarts! It can not be done from the school grounds."
"Watch me."
"Severus?"
He vanished.
* * *
Dumbledore nodded towards a cushioned chair. "Ah, Miss Hunter. I have been expecting you. Allow me one moment to finish this," he said and kept combing Fawkes. The big scarlet-golden bird was cooing in ecstasy.
"Why don't you make us some tea? Grooming Fawkes always makes my throat dry."
Laurel jumped. She had been starring at the pictures in the circular room where dozens of former Headmasters snored.
"Oh, OK." She looked around but could see neither kettle nor cups. One of the Headmasters next to the door opened his eyes and winked at her. When she frowned, he drew the wand from his sleeve and waved it suggestively. Laurel blushed. "Of course. I am supposed to do it with the wand."
She could see the page from "A Beginner's Guide to Kitchen Spells" before her inner eye. The witch in the book made it look so easy. Under the watchful eyes of several Headmasters she searched for her wand which tended to get lost in her sleeve. How did they all do it?
"Simple Burdock charm," Dumbledore said as if to Fawkes who lazily opened an eye. "Keeps the wand where it is supposed to be."
Laurel pointed at the carved side table and concentrated. A large tray appeared out of thin air, with a plate of cauldron cakes, a jug of milk, two thin china cups and a steaming … fish. The Headmasters in their golden frames shook with silent laughter. Laurel let the fish vanish very fast and tried again. She got closer this time, but a flowerpot wouldn't do either. Her fifth attempt and the united effort of Headmasters from four centuries eventually produced a perfect teapot. A faint scent of caramel filled the room.
When Dumbledore put down the comb, Fawkes gave Laurel an offended look but settled down at the armrest of her chair. She offered the Headmaster a cup of tea and perched at the edge of the chair, ready to jump. The anxiety she had felt since Snape had Apparated without an explanation made her restless.
Dumbledore sat down next to her, chose one of the cakes from the platter and took a sip of tea.
"Very nice, this tea, my dear. Now, what else shall we do to distract you while Severus is away?"
"Distract me?" she stared at him blankly.
"You worry about him too much."
"How could he Apparate out of Hogwarts?" she asked, still confused. "I thought there was a magical barrier that prevented everyone from Apparating in and out?"
"At least some of the students pay attention at class," Dumbledore smiled. "You are right of course. But where there is a lock, there will be a key. Severus can come and go as he pleases."
"Because you gave him the key."
"That's right."
"Because he is your spy. What if they find out about him?"
"Let us not even think about that."
Laurel couldn't suppress a sob.
"He is a master of deceit," she tried to calm herself.
"He is." Dumbledore nodded gravely. "Severus is under great pressure right now, in the middle of terror and evil. Because of the tie you shall feel the need to support him spiritually. But he must be at Voldemort's without a trace of you. Do not reach out for him. Believe me, as the Dementors can smell despair, so can Voldemort. Any emotion. All Severus is supposed to feel is naked fear in the presence of the Dark Lord. Not reassurance, not warmth, not hope. It would only betray him."
"But you said earlier I was to support him? How am I supposed to do that?"
"Not while he is there. At Voldemort's court he is on his own. But when he is back …"
"He'll be back. Soon, won't he?" she begged for reassurance.
"I do hope so. Usually it takes but a few hours, not long enough to make anybody suspicious about the Death Eaters' absence. But for Severus it will feel like days have passed. When he returns he'll need you."
She forced herself to relax, and hesitantly sipped her tea. It was hard to wrench her thoughts away from the dark fear in the back of her mind. The old wizard watched her lean back and breath carefully and disciplined. He smiled.
"You have learned a great deal since you came to Hogwarts School, Miss Hunter. Two years ago you would have set fire by now because your emotions would have overwhelmed you."
"It is Severus," she replied with a crooked smile. "Somehow I can borrow his discipline, his restraint, if I need it."
"Like he can borrow your emotions, your warmth. The tie, you see? It was supposed to strengthen both of you in the areas you lacked. And it did." With a swift motion he changed the subject. "Now, tell me about your first day on the other side of the desk. How did it go?"
She smiled at him. "Not too bad. The Silencing Spell seemed to work. Not that I could tell since I can not hear Binns anyway. The students needed some time to adapt, though."
"They'll learn to survive without the extra hour of sleep Professor Binns' classes offered."
A faint crackle in the air alarmed Dumbledore. He cocked his head. "Severus is back, I assume."
Laurel sat up. The conversation with the gentle wise wizard had not only distracted her but let her forget about the danger Snape was currently in. Now the anxiety returned even more forcefully.
Out of nowhere a figure Apparated in the middle of the room. Snape stood for a few seconds with his eyes wide open. Then he tumbled and fell to his knees.
Dumpledore bent down to him and studied his eyes. "Who am I, Severus?" His voice was gentle but steely.
Laurel bit her lips. "What's wrong with him?"
"The Dark Lord's presence can erase any memory, much like the Dementors' kiss. All that remains is an empty shell."
"You are Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster of Hogwarts," Snape replied softly. His voice croaked as if he had spent the last hours screaming from the top of his lungs. "You have cake icing in your beard."
"He is fine." Dumbledore smiled reassuringly and stepped behind his desk. "Is there anything that needs my immediate attention, Severus?"
"No."
"You can report tomorrow. I suggest, Miss Hunter, you take care of him now."
"I don't need anybody to take care of me," protested Snape faintly and tried to stand up.
"Of course, you don't," nodded the Headmaster.
"I am fine."
Laurel reached out to support him when he tumbled.
The old wizard rose his busy eyebrows. "Perfectly fine, Severus." He went to the fireplace and opened a jar with Floo dust. A sprinkle let the flames turn green. "Off you go, both of you."
A moment later they stumbled out of the fireplace in Snape's quarters.
He insisted in washing his face and hands without assistance but did not put up too much of a fight when she helped him to change out of his robes into a loose shirt and pyjama pants.
Worried, Laurel watched him close his eyes repeatedly, then shake his head forcefully as if to clear his mind. His hand was clamped around one of the wooden posters of the huge bed.
A loud knock at the door made her turn. When she opened, Franny, one of the house-elves, stumbled in, balancing a heavy tray stacked with bowls and plates.
"Franny brings the Potions master to eat, best things found in the kitchen, Franny does."
"Thank you, Franny. That was very thoughtful of you." She took the tray from the beaming elf's hands.
Severus looked at the food. "I don't know if I can eat this."
"When was the last time you ate?"
"I don't remember … Days ago?"
She smiled and set the tray on the floor in front of the fireplace. "You should really get another chair and maybe a table."
"I got all the furniture I need."
"A bed?"
"You never complained about the bed. Do you really want to do it on a table?"
She looked up and saw the sarcastic smile, and breathed out in relief. If he was up to snide remarks, he had to be all right.
"I thought we might extend our relationship from picnic to dinner."
"Why?"
She put the silverware down and stood up. "I am not comfortable with all these lies. But I understand that they are necessary. I'd just like to spend some time with you."
He looked at her, his eyes investigating her face for any signs of ridicule. Then he sighed.
"I am sorry I put you through this. The deceit. The danger."
"You never promised me anything else. I knew what I agreed with."
"We could have tea in here every other day. If you like."
She smiled, and the warmth that radiated from her made him dizzy. After a moment of silence she moved the chair closer to the fireplace.
"Try to eat something, Severus. You need to replenish your resources. You look like a ghost."
"You would not see me then, would you?"
"True. You look worse than a ghost."
"I am fine."
"Headmaster Dumbledore advised me to feed you, distract you and make sure you slept, so that's what I am going to do."
He sneered. "I am not your patient, Miss Hunter."
"Just once, Severus, do as you are told. Eat!"
He pointed his wand at the fireplace and cast "Ignite!". A crackling fire appeared out of nowhere. Then, still scowling, he sat down on the floor. After a few cautious bites he suddenly started to wolfe down meat and potatoes like the starving wizard he was.
Laurel watched him from the bed. She assumed that soon after the meal he would fall asleep from exhaustion. So all she had to do was distract him for half an hour or so, and then get him into bed and tuck him in.
"Severus?"
He looked up, swallowing.
"Do you remember our … our …"
"Our fight, before I Apparated?"
"We didn't fight."
His eyes held her captive. "If we didn't fight, what was it we did?"
"We had a discussion."
"You called me a moron."
"Because you behaved like one."
"Ah." He tore off a piece of bread. "What will you call me if we ever had a fight?"
"Believe me, you don't want to know."
"Remind me, what exactly made me a moron?"
"The way you treat your students. I am serious about this. Neville Longbottom almost dies from fear whenever you look at him, and I can understand why."
"I never look at you that way."
"Lucky me, then! I am not a kid, Severus, and even I was scared when you yelled at me that first evening at detention!"
His thoughts flashed back to the moment when he recognised that what he really wanted was to pull her into his arms and kiss her. Instead he had yelled at her and called her irresponsible. What's a wizard to do?
"And that poor girl from Hufflepuff, Emily something."
"Shanks. Emily Shanks. She could be Longbottom's twin."
"She petrifies when you enter the class room. She is quite clever and really sweet in all her other classes."
"I don't expect my students to be sweet. I expect them to not blow up the classroom."
"And Harry. He is not stupid, not clumsy. Why do you hate him so much?"
She poured two goblets of wine and passed him one.
„I don't hate Harry. He just reminds me of James in the most annoying way."
"James?"
"James Potter, his father." He took a sip of wine and sighed. "We were both students at the same time. Of course he was in Gryffindor and I in Slytherin."
"Were you friends?"
Snape rose a dark brow. "I just said that he was a Gryffindor, didn't I?"
"So?"
Impatiently he swiped her question away. "No, James and I were never friends. He and his merry band made my life hell whenever they could. And I hated them from the bottom of my heart."
"You can't blame the boy for what his father did to you, Severus. By the way - what exactly did James do to make you hate him even sixteen years after his death?"
"He saved my life."
She stared at him, kneeling in front of the fire, warming his hands.
"That was … really mean?" She tried to joke, but there was no sign of a smile, not even the twitch in the corner of his mouth that had become so familiar.
"I owe James, and can never pay him back. He got himself killed and left me with the obligation to protect the boy. And Harry is just like his damned father, as arrogant, as vain, as thoughtless."
Laurel sat down in the low chair next to the fireplace and let him talk. After a while he leaned back until his head rested against her knee, a position they both liked.
"And just like James he is going to get himself killed one of these days. There are no rules for the Potters, and they never think about the damage their foolheaded bravery does to others."
"He is only a boy, Severus."
"He is not. He is the boy who lived. That is his fate. He has no time for trial and error like other kids. His errors will get him killed, like his father."
He closed his eyes and was only too conscious of her hands stroking his hair, carefully avoiding to touch his face. "I am his teacher and I make him follow the rules. He hates me for that. So what? If I get him through this war alive my dept will be settled. Let them all hate me if they only survive."
"I see."
"That goes especially for mature students turned teacher."
Her hand found the back of his neck and he had to fight a moan of pleasure.
"But I always follow the rules, Professor!"
He smirked. "Sure."
"Even now, I am only here with the explicit permission of Headmaster Dumbledore."
"If it wasn't so I'd send you right back to your bedroom."
Now it was her time to chuckle. "You are really tough, Potions master. But you must admit you are biased in a horrible way. You take points from each house except your precious little snakes."
He looked at her, eyes hard like black stones. "Precious. Yes. They are, if only to me."
She fought for understanding.
He sneered and turned his face towards the fire. The warmth relaxed him as did her hand that had wandered down his neck to his shoulders, casually massaging the knots in his muscles. "The Hat doesn't Sort students into Slytherin for no reason. They are the scarred, the unwanted, very often the abused. They crave power because they need it to survive. Before Hogwarts, many of them never knew how it felt if someone was on their side. Unconditionally. No matter what."
"Even if this means to treat other students unfair?"
"Even then. Especially then." He let his head sink back. "Don't you see it makes all the difference?"
She slowly rose her hand and touched his jaw. For a short moment he indulged in her touch and closed his eyes. Out of experience she knew better than caressing him, but just let her hand where it was.
"And you say you don't love, Severus."
"I don't." His voice was harsh.
"So pray tell me what is love? If not what you give your house?"
"I give them what I would have needed when I was a student in Slytherin."
Laurel found the restraint in his face almost unbearable. How did he manage to live with all this sadness in him and yet appear so cold and in control?
"You ought to sleep," she whispered. Her voice cracked and she hid the emotion behind a cough. "Dumbledore told me to make sure you slept."
He seized both her wrists and pulled her down to him on the carpet in front of the fire where she found herself in a tight embrace, his face buried in her hair. "I am glad you are back. I should have told you before."
"Severus?" she asked softly after a while, not sure whether he was still awake or fast asleep.
When he mumbled something unintelligible she said: "How was it? There?"
"It was bad."
He cradled her in his arms like a child would hold a favourite doll, his body wrapped around hers like a coat, a shield, and the last thought she could clearly grasp before she fell asleep, too, was that it should be her to hold him, and he the one to be held.
* * *