Chapter 10: The Note

There really wasn't any point in delaying. I made sure that all traces of blood were gone and my earlobes were thoroughly healed before I disillusioned myself and started for the school. I found Minerva with Bulstrode in the owlery sorting letters into piles by destination.

"Look who's back," said Minerva blandly.

"Hello, sir." Bulstrode turned back to her uncooperative owl. "Six Pennyfarthing Lane, Portmerion, got it?"

The owl gave a non-committal hoot and took off through the window.

"How can we help you, Severus?" asked Minerva.

"I need to speak to him after all," I said reluctantly.

"Very well, I'll take you up."

"No need; you can just give me the password."

"Unfortunately not, I can't have Miss Bulstrode overhearing that."

"Already know the password, headmistress," said Bulstrode calmly.

"No you don't, I changed it this morning."

"I'll just find out again, ma'am."

"We'll see about that. Come along, Severus."

Minerva had told me once years ago, "you Slytherins always have to have your games." She had been fed up with me at the time, but it seemed that she had finally taken it to heart and given Bulstrode a game to play. Bulstrode loved ferreting out secrets. No different from the rest of us, really.

The password, as I found by leaning in quickly as Minerva addressed the lock, was 'Ovid.'

Minerva gave me a look. "All alike."

The gargoyle was gone; another casualty of the war perhaps. Or perhaps Minerva had got fed up with him as well. The door didn't look especially formidable now. I still felt a ridiculous reluctance to take that last step.

"I'll be here if you want me," said Minerva. I looked at her. Not even trying to come up and listen in? "Go on, then." She took a seat on the bench used by delinquents to cool their heels before being called upstairs. It was my turn now. I started up the stairs.

I needed to get my brain out of this track by the time I reached the office. I was not being called up; he was the one who hadn't followed through on his word. It was absurd to avoid this any longer. There wasn't any him there, after all. Just a bit of charmed wood and paint, scraps of memories. And some very old enchantments. The portraits of the headmasters that the school supplied must have been some of the first enchantments in Hogwarts. Years ago, some of my students had discovered that the unused corridor hidden behind the dry cistern in the west courtyard was a good place to skive off and smoke. I'd had to roust them out regularly. There were some very old portraits there, with stylized angular faces and eyes that remained facing straight forward even when they turned their heads to the side. They muttered in guttural Old English and occasionally broke into chants or hymns. They'd probably been exiled there when no one could understand them anymore. Well, almost no one. I'd run into Filius there a few times with a step-stool and a notebook, asking them questions in halting Old English and jotting down their answers. "Really?" I'd said.

"Oh, it's very interesting," he'd replied. But then he always liked obscure alliterative allegorical poetry. Utter rot. They were all long dead, nothing left but empty symbolic gestures.

I was at the top of the stairs. I peered in from the doorway. The office was different now, of course. Minerva had several comfortable chairs about; the one behind her desk looked much nicer than mine had been. The desk was smaller and supplemented by a work table in front of the windows to take advantage of the light.

I waited in the doorway, not sure if I was quite ready to step into the sight line of the portraits. It's different now; it doesn't look like it did that last year. No flashbacks will be needed.

I stepped in, hanging near the wall for a few steps before venturing out across the carpet to the desk. Phineas, who liked to keep track of comings and goings, was the first to spot me. "Ah! I knew the pride of our House would not so uselessly perish!"

"Thank you, Phineas. A little discretion, if you please."

He gave me a silent nod, but the damage was done. Portraits were beginning to stir. There was Albus, of course, in the middle of the wall and beaming at me. "Severus, my friend!" He leaned forward in the frame. "I knew you would come back to me"

I froze halfway across the room. Just coincidence and a bit of enchanted canvas, no need for flashbacks. I made myself step closer.

"I knew you would be resourceful enough to pull through… with a little help of course."

His help, he meant. I wasn't going to admit that I had relied on it.

"News has been coming to me from various sources, in bits and pieces, of course. You've done well for yourself; I'm very pleased with your progress."

Once I would have been hungry for that kind of approval from him. Now I could hear something else behind his words; he was putting a claim on my accomplishments and well-being. The thought was immediately followed by guilt; he didn't have a life of his own now, of course he wanted to be part of others' lives.

"I didn't come back for you," I said as calmly as I could. There was movement in the corner of my eyes. I turned to see Phineas hustling some straggling portraits to the edges of their frames. Albus and I were alone.

"Nevertheless, I am very glad to see you, Severus." He gave a kind smile. "Do you need to get right to business?"

How understanding and sympathetic, damn him. It had always seemed to me that the portrait had captured the worst of Albus. There had been good times between us, too. Before the plan had to be put in place. Or at least I had tried to remind myself of that, over that last year. There was so much I wanted to ask him, the missing pieces that had been gnawing at me. That last terrible year I'd had to keep my doubts and questions well-buried. I knew that if I let my purpose waver for even a moment, it could finish me. When I found that old letter of Lily's that implicated his involvement with Grindlewald, and worse, with their own deaths, it led to a breakdown that I could ill-afford. It had been almost physically painful to bury my doubts after that and face the portrait as though nothing had happened. He'd probably had me working to his purposes long before I'd dreamed of joining his side. And that rubbish prophecy, how could he ever have believed it? And why on earth had he never laid any secondary plans? And how could he have never warned me about the trap of the Elder Wand that was slowly closing around me?

Now that I didn't have that merciless purpose to serve, I could ask him anything I wanted.

He was smiling gently at me from his frame.

"The contract you were to turn over at the end of the war: where is it?"

"Is that why you came back? After all this time?"

"I didn't know that it was safe to return. I thought the problem with the contract was that the Ministry was not honoring it, not that you had failed to turn it over."

"You thought the Ministry would betray you?" He was avoiding my criticism.

"A distinct possibility."

He shook his head sadly. "Severus, I kept your papers safe for you. I thought you'd be back long before now."

Was that it? He was just waiting to give the contract over to me personally? Did that mean if I hadn't made it he would have told no one at all? I stepped closer.

"Of course I kept them safe. I revealed their location to Minerva, and she stored them, well, behind me."

Minerva knew where the contract was? But she had really seemed like she knew nothing about it. Was she lying to me all this time?

I liked having the desk between myself and the portrait, but I knew I was being ridiculous. I took the last steps round the desk, to that familiar place. The rug was still scuffed. No need for flashbacks.

I slipped my hand behind the frame to release the catch and swung the portrait out. There was a single folded paper in the alcove. I pulled it out and examined the paper in the light. It was old. 'Sevy' was written on the front in mum's handwriting.

I dropped the note on the desk and left, Albus' voice fading behind me. I took care not to listen.

Minerva was still waiting for me on the bench below.

"Did you get what you – what's wrong? Stop."

I wavered, then sat on the bench.

"Did he say something to you?"

I didn't answer.

"You look just like you did the other night. You can sit here as much as you please, but it won't get you anywhere to run off and get potted again."

"It's not what he said."

"What then?"

"He told me he gave you all my papers." She was silent. "Well?"

"He pointed me to some. Just, ah, not any contract. I thought that's what you came for. Just –"

"Just what?"

"Just… some old potions diagrams and your mother's note, nothing else."

"Nothing?"

"Did he try to give it to you, just now? Oh, Severus. Stubborn old fool."

I wasn't sure if she meant him or me.

"Once I knew you were alive, he wanted me to send it on to you."

"He what?"

"Even if I had known where you were I wouldn't have done it. I tried to tell him he was crossing bounds. Severus, he's not trying to hurt you. He just thinks it's important. He thinks it would help you, somehow. I don't think he can see that it might cost you something, to read that. I told him it would be a perfect way to drive you away. You're an adult; he can't decide what would be good for you or how you should handle things. I didn't think he would try to spring it on you. That's it, I'm coming up. You two need a referee."

Perhaps she was right. Besides, I wanted to see her glare at Albus. I followed her up the stairs. She strode across the room straight to the desk, put the note back in the alcove and closed the portrait with a snap. Albus swung back into view looking sheepish.

"Minerva, chaperoning? Is this really necessary?"

"Apparently so," she said. Ah, there was the glare, very satisfying.

"Severus, I didn't mean to drive you away."

"Leave it," I said. I told myself, as I had done many times before, it wasn't any use being angry at a magical construction. There wasn't any real person there to be angry at, he was long dead. Perhaps I had needed his kind of manipulation and control, once. So of course we were stuck in the same pattern. It wasn't if he could change now, any more than I could. "You know what paper I'm looking for. Where is it?"

"Lucius Malfoy's contract?"

Minerva snapped her head around at me. "Whose contract?"

"Oh dear, I thought Severus told you, since you're here. Yes, he had a contract for the aid he delivered to Severus during the war, such as it was."

Minerva was glaring at me now, which was not so satisfying.

"Don't give me 'such as it was,' Albus. If he hadn't been able to confirm my information there was a very good chance I would have been discovered before the end," I said for Minerva's benefit. Now that she knew the gist, it seemed pointless to hold back details. "Minerva, I already told you that it wasn't mine to tell. Not that that stops some people."

"Severus, I already said that I thought she knew."

"It doesn't explain why you'd let it slip now, but fail to turn over the contract location to the Order immediately at the end of the war, as was agreed."

"Well, there was a slight problem with the location, you see."

"No, I don't see. At all."

"My gatekeeper. It was a secure location for more than just passwords. I gave the contract to it to swallow."

"The gargoyle."

"Yes, but it was destroyed in the battle and disposed of before I could alert anyone in the Order of the existence of the contract. I agree that it was very unfortunate, Severus, but at that point there was nothing else I could do."

"Quite impossible to mention it to anyone?"

"Not impossible, Severus, but surely you see that it wouldn't have been any use. Without being able to produce a physical contract, my word alone wouldn't have helped him much. A portrait's testimony can't be considered in court, since the truth of our words can't be bound or tested. An unsubstantiated rumor of his collaboration without any proof would have done Mr. Malfoy more harm than good."

It was essentially what Shacklebolt had told me. It was reasonable and made perfect sense, sod him. It didn't help that I knew he detested Lucius. I couldn't quite accept that all physical proof was destroyed. After all, Albus was stuck to a wall, he couldn't exactly have seen the damage. I would have to try another tack.

"That is a pity, Albus. I have met with Draco and it's clear that the Malfoy family situation is becoming more desperate. From the accounts I've heard of the end of the battle, Potter clearly owes Narcissa Malfoy a life debt. If their situation deteriorates, I wouldn't be surprised at all if Narcissa decides to start putting pressure on him for help on the strength of that debt. Potter is necessarily tied to the Malfoy family's well-being now. It could become very messy for everyone involved."

Albus looked uncomfortable. "Well, ah, if Minerva can confirm, I believe the gargoyle wasn't entirely pulverized. If the pieces are still left maybe the contract can be retrieved. It would be in the mouth or throat."

"Minerva?"

"I'm not sure. The house elves dealt with the smaller rubble, but I don't know what became of it. I'll call one. Kob!"

"What? Wait!"

But it was too late. Kob appeared barely a meter away from me.

"You!"

A/N:

Kob first appeared in my previous story The Clear Cut. More context will appear in the next chapter, as well as general spoilers for The Clear Cut, so if you'd like to check that story out, now might be the time. If not, don't worry, the next chapter should get you all caught up.

Thank you again, readers and reviewers, I love to hear what you think!