Chapter 11: Keeping Up Appearances
On returning to the Forbidden Forest, Meli canceled her glamourie and spent an hour or so foraging for various things that Snape would find useful; it wouldn't do to go back with an empty rucksack after a three-hour absence, after all.
It was past dinner time when she got back to her rooms, but Kwippy was happy to bring a tray of food—especially when "Miss Neshdiana" rewarded her with one of the chocolate biscuits inhabiting the tray. Mindful of setting a noticeable pattern, Meli waited until after the house elf was gone, after which she wrapped up two of the biscuits in a napkin and hid them in the wardrobe until she could dispose of them more permanently later on.
The potion in the bottom of the wardrobe was coming along fairly well. She stirred in a handful of porcupine quills, waited until the brew faded to a pale blue, and then moved on to other occupations—or rather, tried to. Unfortunately, there wasn't much to do, unless she wanted to sneak into the library again or go to visit Poppy. She supposed she could take the rucksack to Snape, but that didn't seem to be the best move when he'd told her less than five hours earlier to go away until the following afternoon.
It was odd that unoccupied solitude should bother her so much. Two years ago, she'd hit the ground running as soon as she had been released from the hospital wing following her supposed death, and with few exceptions, she hadn't slowed down, much less stopped, since then. By rights, she should be luxuriating in the freedom to do nothing and be beholden to no one for a few hours.
Except that she'd never really liked complete solitude. Even when she'd been separated from friends for a length of time, she'd always had the company of a familiar, and Alfred, her indispensable house elf sidekick, had never been far away.
Meli smiled bitterly. If Alfred was even around, he probably had a name like Flopsy and would be more pitiable than morbid—something which actually somehow saddened her. And given that the only animals for which she had any affinity were snakes, a familiar was out of the question for the foreseeable future. There was no way in hell she'd give Dumbledore any reason to speculate again about just how far the fruit hadn't fallen from the tree, and she had no intention of creating an opportunity to accidentally give herself away as a Parseltongue.
That reminded her of her first meeting with Andrea Underhill twelve years before. Not knowing that her roommate at a Muggle university was a witch, she'd spoken without thinking to her pet rattlesnake—and had a wand pointed at her nose inside of three seconds.
It was easy to smile at now… just as she supposed she might someday be able to smile at some aspects of her second first meeting with Andrea today.
That, of course, introduced the most irritating of those aspects, who came along as an unfortunate package deal with Andrea—the smart-aleck caboose named David Kalimac.
Meli sat on the edge of her bed and rubbed at her eyes. From a purely Utilitarian standpoint, she had to agree with the Auror's argument, since Andrea knew him better. If it was true that he could out-think and out-play Andrea Underhill on the chess board, he might be an asset in the area of strategy—although, given what she'd seen of Ron Weasley's actions in life as compared to his chess-playing, she wasn't prepared to assume that David Kalimac was a smart man strictly on that basis. Beyond Andrea's endorsement, though, she had to admit that it couldn't hurt to have another potions brewer (one more qualified than she was, moreover) and some more Slytherin blood in the coalition. And if Andrea, whom she knew was trustworthy, was willing to vouch for him, she had to allow that he was probably trustworthy, as well.
So, then. From a purely Utilitarian standpoint, there was no reason not to include him, and there were several reasons not to rule him out. Now if only she could keep a handle on the Utilitarian perspective, without letting her personal irritation interfere and muck it up.
It occurred to her then that if her once-upon-a-time Hufflepuff students could see her now and realize that their unfeeling bitch of a Defense teacher was wrestling with any kind of human feeling whatsoever, they would be in stitches on the floor. That, predictably, did not improve her mood.
Moving on, then—because the alternative was too annoying to contemplate. Even if she'd felt quite up to contacting Crimson Fell at the moment, it was late enough in the evening that she probably couldn't. As far as life at Hogwarts went, she was due in the Potions room after classes the following afternoon, and in the meantime, she didn't want to leave the castle again unless Snape sent her; she didn't want to set a noticeable pattern in that respect, either, particularly when she knew that Dumbledore was probably watching.
That meant either keeping to her rooms (which could also draw the attention and suspicions of the twinkly-eyed headmaster) or finding other occupations within the castle, which again brought her to the choice between Poppy and the library.
With a resigned sigh, she got up and left her rooms again, this time heading in the direction of the hospital wing.
ooo
Poppy didn't mind having Meli about and was even willing to let her help with some of the lighter work like folding newly-cleaned linens. She had a few uncharitable comments about Snape's indirect suggestion that Meli could clean out the bedpans (which, in the interest of keeping up appearances, Meli had thought it good to mention) and refused even to consider assigning the chore to anyone but a student serving detention. Mostly it seemed that she wanted to chat, and it occurred to Meli more than once that Poppy might be making a point of being friendly to a visitor who had so far (in theory) been slighted and alienated by the only others who knew about her.
This impression strengthened when, at the end of the evening, Poppy invited her to come back the following morning.
"It might be best for you to keep to the office and out of sight," the mediwitch said apologetically, "but I think we can find something to keep you from being too terribly bored."
Meli offered a smile. "Barring a short-notice errand for Professor Snape, I'll be both able and glad to come."
It amused her, really, that Poppy was so friendly and accommodating. In her own timeline, she, Snape, and Zarekael had all but made a formal sport of dodging medical care or, failing that, sneaking or faking their way out of the hospital wing as soon as possible. They had all looked on Poppy as a friend… but her zeal for total health and complete recovery came into conflict more often than not with the spies' job requirements, and when that happened, she also became an adversary. The most notorious battle Meli had witnessed had been touched off by Zarekael answering a summons from Voldemort mere hours after emerging from a life-threatening coma—aided and abetted by Snape, who had smuggled an illegal portkey in under Poppy's nose.
She couldn't quite wrap her head around the fact that this Poppy had no corresponding history with her. As strange as it was, though, she found that she rather liked being able to talk with the mediwitch without trying simultaneously to outmaneuver her.
ooo
There was no note on her door, either that night or the following morning, so she spent a few more pleasant hours in the hospital wing (helping Poppy work out a week's worth of crosswords from the Daily Prophet, as it turned out) before retrieving her rucksack and going down to the dungeons for a less cheerful time.
Snape had a pile of foul-looking cauldrons and flasks waiting for her in the Potions classroom, along with a bucket, a heap of rags, and an orange box of baking soda.
Meli took it all in with a glance then turned to the potions master with a snort. "Before you set me to work, I think it's only fair of me to tell you that you can't make me miserable unless I allow it, and that I flatly refuse to do."
"How fortunate that Chickadee Chisholm and Almyra Natterbek are not similarly enlightened," Snape countered coolly. "No sooner had I set aside something useful for you to do than those two bright, shining examples of the imminent downfall of Western civilization claimed the task for their own. I expect them after dinner this evening, and I sincerely hope that they're at the job until breakfast tomorrow."
Meli raised her eyebrows. "Dare I to ask?"
"Is unfulfilled curiosity a torment to you?"
She smirked. "An inconvenience only."
"Then I shall have to content myself with merely inconveniencing you." Snape's eyes flicked to the rucksack. "I don't recall assigning you a further errand."
"I was bored and thought I might as well make myself useful." Meli swung rather than handed the rucksack to him, but he caught it neatly enough. He might not have a drop of vampire blood in him, but even as a full human he had excellent reflexes and remarkable grace.
"How thoughtful of you." He rummaged through the contents briefly and looked up with an expression of grudging approval. "It will do, I suppose. Are you as eager to sort and catalog as you are to toss bric-a-brac into a bag?" He arched an insulting eyebrow. "Or perhaps you have some more pressing social obligation which prevents your remaining to do so?"
"Wishful thinking on your part, sir," Meli replied stiffly. "I am happy to sort and catalog and whatever else you demand of me, within reason, of course." At his startled look, she raised her eyebrows and added, quite innocently, "Asking me to clean cauldrons without magic for no specific good purpose, for example, is quite unreasonable, since I'm an assistant rather than a student being punished."
Snape snorted but led the way to his office without another word. Once there, he had a fair bit to say, but not before the door was closed and the room warded.
"I've noticed that you kept to the castle all day today," he said without preamble. "May I recommend that you continue to do so for a day or two further."
Meli suppressed a grimace. "Dumbledore's noticed, then."
Snape nodded curtly. "Since you've always returned with something for me, I have been able to explain it away thus far, but the headmaster knows that my stores, while somewhat depleted, are not in dire need of replenishment—and he felt the need to mention it this morning. I underestimated how close a watch he would keep on your movements." He hesitated then asked, "Have you at least had some success in pursuing your goals?"
"Some, yes," Meli replied. "And the rest I can pursue in a few days' time. Are you expected to tighten my leash and keep me within easier reach?"
He nodded again. "Once Chisholm and Natterbek have paid due penance for melting two cauldrons and most of a work table, I expect you'll find yourself perfecting your Scourgifying charm over the next fortnight or so; the O.W.L. and N.E.W.T.-level classes are producing quite a few nightmares—often as part of brewing their potions correctly."
Meli grimaced, remembering the nasty, complicated concoctions she'd had to put together her last two or three years in Snape's class. "I don't mind being kept busy into the weekend," she said. "Do you think there's a possibility of you needing an errand run then?"
"A distinct possibility." He sighed. "And because the headmaster wishes me to prepare for a war as quickly and quietly as possible, I doubt that it will be a manufactured errand."
"I'll go when it's needed, and until then, I'll report faithfully for scrubbing and cataloguing duty every day." Meli paused, feeling that there must be something more to say… but there was nothing, and that knowledge reminded her all over again that, for all his resemblance, this Snape was not the man she had known for twenty years.
The hollowed-out feeling of homesickness returned, along with the progressively strengthening realization that she would never truly see any of her oldest friends ever again.
It was a strange relief when Snape ended their conversation and exiled her to the storeroom to sort through the growing pile of recently-acquired potions ingredients. Sometimes solitude really was to be preferred after all.
