Chapter Thirteen— Upon Reflection
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If there was one thing Luna Lovegood knew for a certainty, it was that there were more things in heaven and Earth than could be dreamt or imagined. Take for example Professor Snape. Never would she have imagined him concerning himself with her welfare. It wasn't that she thought him mean—even though he could be, or particularly cruel—though he could be that as well.
To her, he had just always seemed as being buttoned up; buttoned up as tight as a person could be. He was so restricted, so inhibited and closed off. And yet, he had saved her, healed her, cared for her, and trusted her with more than a few of his secrets. And if there was one thing Luna had learned from her covert observation of him all these years, it was that Professor Severus Snape trusted no one.
And so, she was left to wonder why he chose to confide in her; the very buttoned-up, inaccessible professor? Her mind tumbled this question about, looking for answers and possible connections. They had a bond; there could be no doubt of that. The phrase light calling to dark could sum up how they were together. Complete opposites in almost every way, they were seemingly incompatible. And yet, somehow, she instinctively knew they were inseparable. Light to dark. Order to chaos. He was her mate—her match.
He was her mirror twin, quite opposite in every respect.
She had made it a habit to observe his comings and goings, even when he was given the position of Headmaster. It had been apparent all of last year when Professor Dumbledore was ailing that Professor Snape had been under a great deal of stress that only increased as the year wore on. She had noted his comings and goings to and from the castle grounds, and he was never more careworn and haggard than when he came back from his meetings with Voldything.
When he had killed the Headmaster, Luna had tried to side with public opinion. She had truly tried. But she just couldn't reconcile the taciturn and buttoned-up professor as being a cold-blooded murderer and one of Voldything's henchmen.
Over the months of meeting his stare every morning at breakfast, Luna had weighed her feelings for him against what she knew was truth and what she knew was slander. Whenever she met his stare, she always received a subtle pulsing from her anahata, and it was this—this instinctual response—that she trusted above all others.
She felt so strongly that he was innocent of killing the headmaster even though there was unassailable proof that he was not; her soul knew instinctively there was more to it.
In his explanation, he had told her that Professor Dumbledore had asked it of him. And in Luna's observation, this was the only explanation that could make sense. And in light of recent events, she was ever so glad she had withheld her judgment; for in saving her from that evil man and his sister, he had exposed himself for what he truly was—a dark horse.
Banishing the painting of the fiery, Luna took up her paints and instead began to draw the outline of a dark horse next to the cherry-blossomed tree. He had eyes the color of onyx and a lean, muscular build. Moments later, she heard a pop behind her, and looking over, saw Dobby bringing sheets to a bed that appeared in the corner. "Hogwarts master has assigned me to young miss. And master says Dobby is to care for young miss and make sure she sleeps. And young miss needs sleep in order for Dobby to do his duty as master commands." The elf looked at her worriedly, his ears drooping slightly.
Luna put down her paints and made her way over to the bed, giving the little elf a consoling pat on his bony shoulder. "Of course, sir. I would be happy to do as Professor Snape requests." The elf blinked, and then gave her a slight smile, his ears coming up fully.
"Young miss has addressed Dobby as 'sir'. Young miss give Dobby honor." The elf bowed, his knitted hat almost scraping the floor.
Still wearing her shoes, Luna got into the militantly-made bed very gingerly, anxious not to muss the little elf's handiwork too much.
"Would it be better if young miss removed her shoes? Dobby will gladly help young miss if young miss needs Dobby 's help to do so." The elf raised his fingers to snap, but Luna stopped him with a smile.
"That's very kind of you sir, but no thank you. I sleepwalk, you see? And when one sleepwalks, it is always best for one to be prepared for the journey."
The little elf looked at her with a glaze of confusion apparent in his eyes, and this was a look with which Luna was well acquainted. It meant being relegated as an eccentric bordering on loony. But then the small creature shrugged and gave a crooked smile, and with a snap of his fingers, the lights went out as he disappeared.
Minutes passed, and her mind refused to settle. Instead she remained awake thinking about her professor.
His hands—long-fingered and graceful. Hands that had touched her face, arms, and hips taking away the pain that the mean-spirited man had caused. Hands that had left behind a tingling trail of comfort, of warmth in its place. He really did have beautiful hands. She had always thought so whenever she watched him demonstrate a potion: his were an artist's hands filled with innate grace. Luna decided that she would paint her dark horse with elegant wings spanned outwards, waiting to encompass— there, her fertile imagination drew blank.
With a sigh, she surrendered the image to the depths of her ocean-deep and gave in to the luring comfort of dreams.
Perhaps her sleeping self could conjure what her mind could not.
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oOo
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She awoke sometime later to the worried exclamations of the house elf as he had come to wake her. "Hogwarts Master says young miss is not to terry in bed. But young miss is still asleep. Young miss must get up so that Dobby can do his duty by Hogwarts Master." Luna watched as the elf wrung his ears, looking at her worriedly.
Sitting up, she spoke softly so as not to frighten the small, fretting being before her, "Do not worry, sir. I'm up and ready for breakfast. I just need to change my clothes." So saying, Luna got up from her bed, absently noticing she had sleep-walked during the night. And going behind the changing screen, she changed into a pair of cerulean tights and a bright orange turtle-necked jumper that reached to her knees. She topped the ensemble with a pair of Flouvogs in brilliant mauve that came up mid-calve. In coming out, she saw that Professor Snape had arrived and was occupied in study of her mural. It seemed she had finished it during the night.
A unicorn lay peacefully in repose, nestled in the wings of the dark horse.
Drawing up beside him, she studied the painting as well. A unicorn; it was somehow very fitting. "Will you share in my breakfast, sir?"
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Severus looked down and did a double-take.
Was that really what his mate insisted on wearing? Great Merlin, he would have to disillusion her from the onset in that eye-watering getup.
Leading the way to the sideboard where her breakfast rested, he stated gruffly, "It is best you tell me where we are going. Is it possible to arrive there via apparition?" Severus summoned Dobby and asked for his usual coffee, watching in approval as Luna began to make herself a plate. While performing some kind of renewing charm on her necklace of butter beer caps, she absently handed him some of her raspberry jammed toast, and unthinking, he ate it as he read the slanderous lies espoused by the morning's Prophet. Blinking, Severus realized he was indeed hungry for once, and he fixed himself a plate as well.
Peace. Comfort. Domesticity. Feelings that were definitely missing from the life of Severus Tobias Snape. Feelings that he was stealing by changing the course of events that were supposed to have unfolded as they had previously. And yet, once more Severus made a study of her muralled painting. He was compelled to drink in the action of the dark horse with eyes so very familiar. There was such a caring, protective mein about the creature; a creature rendered so very life-like and yet completely made of whimsy.
After drinking some of her gurdyroot concoction, Luna broke the silence, "How familiar are you professor with the mountains of Anatolia?"
"I'm not, Miss Lovegood." he replied distractedly. Severus studied his mate covertly. The elf had informed him that she had sleep-walked during the night, painting straight on until morning where she had returned to bed once more. He had said she preferred to wear shoes to bed, and waxed lyrical about that particular proclivity for some time before Severus had put a stop to it. The irony was indeed keen however; it did seem the only time the chit deigned to wear footwear at all was when it was completely inappropriate for her to do so.
Typical.
As he watched, the unicorn foal sheltered under the wings of the dark horse opened its eyes and stared straight at him. His stomach did a flip. Its eyes were the color of Luna's. The unicorn was her. And he was the dark horse.
The proof was in the eyes.
This was a painting done from her soul. It was a message, of that he was certain. A message that she knew him—recognized him perhaps? Remembered him.
"The Mountains house the Tower of Babel. It has been hidden all these years due to celestial magic that muggles can't feel and wizards cannot access."
Severus blinked, dispelling his hopeful thoughts as he focused once more on the conversation at hand. "Indeed. And how is it you propose we get there?"
He watched as she tilted her head in thought, "I need a map of the area." Immediately one appeared before her provided by the Room. Taking her wand from behind her ear, Severus watched as she drew the topographical outline of a giant tower atop one of the peaks. "It would be the tallest man-made structure in the world if it were visible sir. Daddy said that the celestials have a devil of a time trying to keep it hidden what with all the new inventions the muggles have created. How far can you apparate us?"
Studying the map, Severus figured he could get them there in three apparitions without becoming too fatigued. "Do you know where it is that we are going?" He watched as she gestured to a miniature minaret atop the highest peak of the mountain.
"There. That is where the cipher is kept; it's just getting there that is going to be the trouble. You see, the Zigguratian Shamen are not Earthly; their magic is not like our own, and therefore not bound by the rules and strictures that we, as human magical beings are subjected to."
Severus felt his own ignorance keenly. "Is there anything I can read on this subject, Miss Lovegood?"
She shook her head, "No sir. Everything I know, I know from my father's first-hand experience."
Great. Severus was forced to rely on the dubious accountings of Xenophilius Lovegood; the thought made him more than slightly alarmed. "Alright, so how can we prepare ourselves?" Her eyes lost focus as she thought.
"Well, they will detect impure motivation, so both of our hearts have to be in the right place. You need to be looking for the cipher for a good reason, sir. Otherwise, the Shamen will know, and they will expel us. That is why Daddy was chased away. He had no need for it, sir. "
Severus couldn't resist asking, curious as to what his mate would say. "And what constitutes a pure motivation, Miss Lovegood?"
She took a moment to gather her thoughts and if Severus didn't know better, he would think she was woolgathering. "Well, I guess it would depend on what you plan on doing with the cipher, sir. What is it you are planning on doing with the urn once the pieces of Voldything's soul have been collected?"
Answering a question with a question, how very like your Ravenclaw contemporaries you are, Miss Lovegood. To answer your question, I will say this: heaven only knows." There. Let her make of his response what she would. When it became apparent, she had no more to offer on the subject, Severus asked, "Are you ready to go? Though it is still quite early yet, we must leave before any of the others in the castle awaken." He watched as she rose, and making her way to her trunk, donned her traveling cloak. It was a patched monstrosity every bit as bright and garish as the rest of her outfit. He felt suddenly quite homesick for their after.
Smiling slightly, she murmured from the folds, "I'm ready, sir." Tapping her once on the head with his wand, Severus disillusioned them both and then with muffled footsteps, led the way to the stairs and then the grounds where they could apparate.
Drawing her close to him, Severus thought of their first destination, and with a small crack, they were off.
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A/N: I cannot take credit for the appellation of 'Voldything' but for the life of me, I cannot remember which fic I lifted it from. If you know, please let me know so I can credit the author. As an aside, I would love to hear what you guys think of my little tale if you have a moment to spare?
Thank you,
DGM