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GREASE
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Chapter 10
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Clutching Mrs Weasley's parcel under my arm, I made my way up the narrow staircase behind Flourish and Blott's. I gently knocked on a handsome wooden door with an elegant brass plate bearing the legend, "Holland and Tudor: Publishers," and cautiously pushed it open.
Inside, I waded my way through what appeared to be a forest of potted plants, with luridly coloured leaves. There were maroon, yellow and green crotons with virulently patterned leaves. There were fragrant ferns and striped, hairy leaved zebra-lilies. Not to mention dangerously thorny cacti, fleshy leaved succulents, and an unidentified herb with sticky purple leaves that left nasty smelling trails of goo all over my jumper. (I later learned that Archie and Gwillim's receptionist, Calpurnia Cadwallader, was responsible for the interior decoration of this area of their office.)
I elbowed my way to Miss Cadwallader's desk, sucking my thumb, which had been injected with a foul smelling substance by a syringe-like thorn. Before I could introduce myself, she gave an excited squeal and turned pink, seeing the scar on my forehead. "You must be Mr. Harry Potter," she squeaked, the large leek in her hair waving wildly in her excitement.
"Er, yes," I said. "Mr Holland invited me..."
"Yes, yes!" she said, excitedly. "He's expecting you. But Professor Snape has just gone in to meet him. Would you prefer to join them, or wait, Mr. Potter?"
"I'll wait here, thank you," I said. "I'll just look around at all your lovely indoor plants..."
I thought I'd lose myself amongst the plants, put on my invisibility cloak and eavesdrop on Snape, but I just couldn't shake Calpurnia off. Spectacles a-glitter, she forcibly took me on a guided tour of the reception area, shrilly pointing out to me the special features of each and every beloved plant that she had lovingly raised from seed to its present outrageous level of growth. She stuck to me like a burr. Exercising considerable ingenuity, I finally managed to escape, muttering apologetically that there was something I needed to see to and that I'd be "back in a minute."
In fact, I was back in a few seconds, swathed in my invisibility cloak. "Silencio," I whispered, and having thus silenced the swishing of the leaves, I slunk my way noiselessly to the door of Archie and Gwillim's office.
Putting my ear to the door, I heard the familiar voice of "Matilda Blott," discussing his new book with Gwillim and Archie.
"I think it's about time you openly acknowledged the person for whom the books were written, Severus," said Gwillim's voice.
"That's right," agreed Archie. "Now that you know Harry well enough, why don't you dedicate the new book to him? I'm sure he'd be delighted!"
Snape's answer was a succinct "No."
"Why not," asked Gwillim.
"Because he hates me," said Snape, in the matter-of-fact, emotionless tone of one who was simply stating a well known fact.
"Severus, I saw him at your house the other day," said Gwillim, "and it seemed to me that he looked happy to be with you..."
"That was before he remembered that I killed his parents," said Snape.
"Severus, you did not kill his parents!"
"Oh yes, I did," said Severus, "and I killed his godfather, too!"
"Well, if Harry feels strongly about that," began Archie.
'Archie!" bellowed Snape, "a boy would obviously feel strongly about his parents being murdered."
"Archie, I saw Harry sitting with Severus, having a cheerful conversation," said Gwillim.
"I saw Harry too," said Archie.
"And did he have a murderous look, Archie? Did he look as if he 'hated' Severus?" asked Gwillim.
"Far from it," said Archie. "He was calm and courteous, and he looked very intelligent, too. 'Good afternoon, Professor,' he said."
I had felt anything but intelligent and calm at the time, but was happy to know that I'd successfully managed to appear so.
"Well, Archie, after courteously wishing him a good afternoon, and having a cheerful conversation with him, Severus would have us believe that the boy, suddenly remembering his parents, started to shout abuse at him..." I could hear the smile in Gwillim's voice, and I heard Archie chuckle, too.
But that was exactly what had happened that day. I had, in fact, remembered the prophecy, and started to abuse Professor Snape, who'd been doing his best to overcome his former prejudices against me. I held my breath, and nervously pressed my ear against the door. Would Snape tell Archie and Gwillim of all the things I'd said and done, in embarrassing detail?
He did not. "Well," he said, "the fact remains that I will not dedicate the book to Harry."
"Why," asked Gwillim. "Is it because you dislike the boy? Or is it because you hesitate to express your affection to him..."
"I dislike him," said Snape.
"And it's because you dislike him that you've been writing book after book expressing your concern for his well being and his safety..."
"I don't dislike him," said Snape. "I hate him. I hated his father. And his godfather, too. In fact, I murdered them both..."
"Severus, this is perhaps too much to ask, but will you be rational for a moment?" said Gwillim.
Snape made a nondescript sound, halfway between a snort and a growl.
"Severus, we have known you for so many years, now," continued Gwillim, "and Archie and I are both aware of the pain you went through after the Potters' death."
"We know how concerned you were for Harry's safety," added Archie, "and you even told us how you implored Professor Dumbledore to allow you to bring up the boy, as you wanted to made amends for what had happened."
"And we also know," added Gwillim, "that when he came to Hogwarts, you never picked up the courage to tell Harry how much you cared about him. And we know how jealous you were of Lupin and Sirius..."
"I did not care about him," snarled Snape, "and I was not jealous of Lupin and Sirius..."
"Well, you told me in a very jealous tone of voice that he was getting very close to his father's friends. Severus, when you had a chance to get close to Harry yourself, you chose not to. But Sirius Black and Remus Lupin simply stepped in and gave the boy what he needed, without being self-centred like you, and worrying about what Harry would think of them."
"So Sirius hath a tear for pity, and a hand open as day for melting charity," said a sarcastic Snape.
"No," said Gwillim. "It was not charity. It was love. They gave him their love."
"How touching," sneered Snape. "A werewolf and an ex-convict giving the boy their love..."
"If you had wished to do so, you could have added a former Death Eater to their number," said Gwillim. "Severus, you made this mistake before – don't make the same mistake again. Speak to Harry. Tell him..."
"Why should I," interrupted Snape.
"Why should you? Severus, you've been thinking of Lily's son ever since her death. You've been living, breathing, eating and sleeping with Harry on your mind..."
"But to him, I'm nobody. I don't exist. I'm the man who killed his parents."
Gwillim refrained from pointing out to Severus that if he did not exist, he could not also be the man who killed my parents. "But Severus, if Harry could see the depth of your remorse..."
Through the keyhole, I saw Snape get to his feet. "...would that bring his parents back to life?" he snapped. "Would the depth of my remorse make any difference to him?"
"Well, I'm sure that it would make a difference to Harry to know that someone cares so much for him," said Archie's deep, kindly voice.
"What if it does not make a difference to him," snarled Snape. "What if he doesn't want to associate with a hook-nosed, greasy haired ugly git who... who..."
"Yes?"
"...who loved his mother." Snape restlessly paced the floor and I saw his fists clench. "Archie... Gwillim..." he said, "if you really look at it, isn't it wrong for a man to love a woman who's married to someone else? And wouldn't it disgust him to know that I..." he broke of, and then went on. "I've been thinking of Lily's son for years and years," he said simply. "And so, if Harry looked at me with hatred and disgust, I... couldn't take it."
"And so, to protect yourself from hurt, you're going to continue to sneer at him and mock him, and treat him like dirt, so he'll never suspect what you really think of him?" Gwillim's voice was hard and disapproving.
"Precisely," said Snape.
"Severus," said Archie, "We cannot tell you what to do or what not to do. And it is not for us to tell you whether we approve or disapprove of your actions..."
"Rubbish!" interjected Gwillim. "I can tell him what I think, if I want to. Severus, you're a coward."
"Don't call me..." began Snape through clenched teeth, but Gwillim ignored him.
"You're a coward, Severus. You are afraid to show the boy your love, for fear that it might be rejected by him, or seem repulsive to him."
Snape shrugged. "I don't fear it. I know it. He's James Potter's son..."
"You're not only a coward," said Gwillim, "but also a prejudiced, opinionated..."
"...greasy haired Death Eater," finished Snape, with a silky smile. "...oh and Gwillim, I'd like you to do something for me."
"And what is that," asked Gwillim.
"Put an obituary in the Daily Prophet, saying that Matilda Blott is dead," said Snape.
"I'll do nothing of the sort," said Gwillim.
"Why not," demanded Snape.
"Because," said Gwillim simply, "you're not dead. You may be a misguided, rude, offensive coward, but you're not dead."
"I wish I was," said Snape, suddenly sounding miserable.
"Well," said Gwillim unsympathetically, "You have only yourself to blame."
I couldn't see Severus' face, but having been his student for years, I could well imagine the withering glare he would have turned on Gwillim at that point. But Gwillim didn't wither.
'Oh and Severus," he said, "There's something I'd like you to do for me." He handed Snape something that I couldn't see. "I'd like you to visit all these locations and tell me what you think of them, before I send out my crew to take photographs of them for the book..."
"I told you that I didn't want pictures in the book. Only black print on a white page," said Snape.
"How boring," said Gwillim. "But if you won't co-operate, I'll ask Harry to go and have a look at them."
"Harry? You're going to ask him to choose locations to photograph for my book?"
"Yes," said Gwillim. "But maybe you should go with him, Severus. I can't send a young boy alone to all those remote areas..."
Snape saw through Gwillim's rather obvious attempt to send us on a holiday together.
'I'll protect him, but I won't go with him," said Snape.
"What d'you mean," asked Gwillim.
"I'll go in the form of an animagus – that way, I can keep an eye on him without having to talk to him."
"That would be nice. Thank you, Severus."
Snape growled in reply, and turned to leave.
I hastily got out of his way as he approached the door, wondering what form he took as an animagus. I had visions of a long black snake following me from scenic spot to scenic spot, keeping an eye on me without talking to me.
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Severus walked out of Archie and Gwillim's office and stood for a moment at the window, staring out of it, trying to calm himself down. He stared unseeingly out of the window for a long while, his hands in the pockets of his robe. The look in his eyes brought a strange, prickly lump to my throat and I could no longer watch in silence.
"Severus," I mumbled almost inaudibly, "I don't hate you."
Jerked out of his reverie, Professor Snape turned around with a start, inadvertently catching Calpurnia's eye as he looked for me.
"Yes, Professor? Did you say something," she asked.
"I...er...thought I heard someone speak, but I'm not sure if I imagined it," said Severus.
"You authors spend so much time in the world of the imagination that you find it difficult to come back down to earth," said Calpurnia, kindly. "What you need to do is to get back to reality, Professor Snape. Grow a garden! Get your hands in the dirt!"
Snape stared at her with a dazed look on his normally composed face.
"Are you quite well, Professor Snape?" asked Calpurnia.
"Er... yes," said Severus. "Yes, I'm quite well."
I reached out and clasped his hand, to tell him that yes, he had heard me speak and had not imagined it.
Calpurnia let out a shrill shriek of horror, as my invisibility cloak temporarily masked Severus' hand from view.
"Professor Snape!" she squeaked. "What happened to your hand? It's disappeared!"
I hurriedly took my hand away, and Severus grinned.
"Severus of the Severed Hand," he intoned in a sinister, sepulchral voice. "My hands are perfectly all right, Miss Cadwallader – look!"
He displayed both hands to her and she ran her eyes over them, her spectacles glittering with in suspicion.
"Perhaps you need new glasses, Miss Cadwallader," suggested Snape.
"Indeed I do not," said Calpurnia, with an indignant sniff.
"Well, I have to be off now," said Snape. "Goodbye, er..." He looked vaguely in my direction.
"Miss Cadwallader," snapped Calpurnia. "After all these years, have you forgotten my name, Professor Snape? You'll be forgetting your own name next."
Snape gave her an apologetic smile. "Well, goodbye," he said.
"Mr Potter was here a moment ago," said Calpurnia. "Wouldn't you like to stay and meet him?"
"No, I unfortunately have to leave now," said Snape, "but if you see Mr Potter again, you could tell him... you could tell him that, er..." Severus' eyes filled with tears.
"Professor Snape," squealed Calpurnia loudly, "why are your eyes watering?"
"I don't know," he muttered. "It must be that leek in your hair." And he hastily made himself scarce before Calpurnia could utter the indignant retort that she was so obviously preparing.
I rushed out after him, but to my disappointment, Professor Snape disapparated with a pop.
Taking off my invisibility cloak, I went back in.
Calpurnia was still bristling with rage over Severus' remark.
"Mr. Potter," she squeaked angrily, "does the leek in my hair make your eyes water?"
"Er... no," I said, soothingly. "Not at all. Far from it."
I took out my handkerchief and blew my nose.
'But your eyes are watering," she said.
And indeed they were.
"But it's not because of your leek," I said.
Which was perfectly true.
"Are you allergic to tropical plants, Mr. Potter?" she asked in sudden concern.
I knew how much she loved her plants. 'Oh no," I said hastily. "Not at all."
She produced a large emerald green can of Muggle anti-allergic spray.
"Perhaps this will help, Mr. Potter," she said, pointing the nozzle at me and placing a determined finger on top of it.
Fortunately, Archie emerged from his office just at that moment to see if I'd arrived yet, and I was saved.
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Note : Snape's quote is from Henry IV Part II, by William Shakespeare.