21. Leander's Map / Part 1

Dumbledore waited for them in his office. But he was not alone. A small wizard, fragile with age, sat at the desk, a large parchment in front of him. When Snape and Laurel entered, he looked up. His eyes were misted, like frosted glass. With shock Laurel recognised that he was blind.

The Headmaster smiled at them. "Ah, there comes the happy couple."

Snape shot him a gaze that would have driven any student to tears. Laurel squeezed his hand in reassurance.

They sat down while Dumbledore helped the old wizard to spread the parchment all over the desk. When all four corners were safely weighted with a spell, the blind wizard conjured two small ink-bottles and a quill. Then he spoke for the first time.

"Ready when you are, Albus."

Dumbledore cleared his throat. "Laurel, Severus, let me assure once more that I am very happy about the outcoming of the past events."

Laurel smiled at him with endearment. Had it not been for the wise wizard, she and Snape would have missed each other for miles.

"I have thought about a fitting wedding-present for a while."

It was one of the very rare times Laurel had ever seen Snape blush.

"Or if you, like so many young people today, decide to 'live together', just as well. Although I really enjoy weddings. There's always a great cake at a wedding."

Snape shook his head vehemently. "Albus, you have given us more than …"

The Headmaster rose a hand. "Let me finish. Most of all I wanted to give you something to ensure your happiness. And from several conversations with both of you I concluded that there is one thing you do regret."

"All I regret is the time we lost," said Snape. Laurel turned to him and softly stroked his cheek.

Dumbledore nodded. "The time you lost. Both of you think that if Laurel here had been admitted to Hogwarts as a child, you would have met as students. And you both mourn those years of love you are sure you would have had. You think you could have protected each other from the slings and arrows life held in store."

Laurel bowed her head.

"Let me introduce you to my old friend and brother in arms, Leander DeVere. We fought Grindelwald back in 1945, didn't we, Leander?"

The small wizard showed a huge but somewhat toothless grin. "Those were the times, ah, Albus."

"Leander here is a cartographer."

"A cartographer?" Severus looked at the man behind the desk in awe. "There are but a few wizards who have accomplished that skill."

"Explain." Laurel demanded impatiently. With her decision to stay at Hogwarts she had consented in the fact that every day something new would come up, something she had no idea about. Severus had turned out as a patient and reliable guide in the past, and she could only hope he'd not lose that patience in the future..

But this time Dumbledore took it upon him to explain the unfamiliar term. "A cartographer draws, as the words say, maps. But not maps of countries."

"Something like the Marauder's map of Hogwarts?"

"Ah, I heard of that, yes. Nice job, especially if you take in consideration that it was produced by mere students. But no. Your Marauder's map only shows what is. My maps show what could be. Maps of possible lives," Leander cackled and although he was blind he looked straight at Laurel.

"A skilled cartographer can draft a map that shows every turn in somebody's life. And more. He can draw even lives that did not happen," Snape added.

Laurel's forehead furrowed.

"All our actions have consequences," Dumbledore continued. "The question is - if I turn 'right', what happens to 'left'? Is there an alternative Me who turns left and never wastes a thought about the other possibility? Cartographers can draft even these alternative lives. They can show you - no, they can let you experience - how an alternative life would have been."

It took some time until Snape and Laurel had fully comprehended what Dumbledore offered them.

"What did you mean when you said, he could let us see it or experience it, Headmaster?" Snape said finally.

"It is not an option, Albus." Leander spoke very firmly. "I told you before, they either go all the way or I won't do it."

Dumbledore stroked his long white beard. "I agree with Leander. Some cartographers will only let you see where your lifeline goes from a certain point on. But I believe that life has to be lived, has to be experienced. Even if this experience is fast forward and remote."

"Forgive me." Laurel rose and looked at the parchment. "I still don't understand. Leander drafts a map of a life we never had and we will know how it felt? Is that what you mean?"

"Exactly, my dear." Dumbledore pointed at two dots on the map, one blue, one green, both on opposite edges. Spidery lines appeared on the parchment, crossed and twisted, and finally joined into a strong blue-green line und stopped. "This is the life you had, so far. Mind you, Leander will not show you the future."

Startled, Laurel looked at Leander, who's blind eyes met her gaze again with irritating certainty. "But he'd be able to?"

"I could show you one future, girl. As there are many alternative pasts, there are many alternative futures. The lines of life are not straight, they resemble a net and often different lines end up at the same point at the end. And from that point various lines fan out into the future."

"Like Serene could only see one future. The one where you killed me. But as we know, in this life you decided not to kill, Severus. That's why Divinations will never be an exact science."

"She was pretty close though," muttered Laurel.

"Consider this is my wedding-present to you. Leander will let you experience the life you'd have had, had your lines crossed at school twenty-five years ago." Dumbledore looked intently at Snape and Laurel. "But there is a clause. Once we have started this, you have to endure it until the end. You can't just back down when it gets less pleasant than you thought."

Snape took Laurel's hand and held it, awkwardly stroking her palm. As always when he did that, her heart went out to him. She turned to Dumbledore. "So if we do it, would we keep the memory?"

Dumbledore nodded. "It will resemble the memory you might have of a dream or a story you heard. But yes, you will remember."

"We should do it then." She took Snape's hand.

He closed his eyes for a heartbeat. When he opened them again all the helpless love and tenderness he felt for her showed without any reserve. He looked at Dumbledore. "We accept your very generous gift, Headmaster."

"Then let us not waste any more time," said Leander and took out his wand. "Albus, I need a drop of blood from both of them."

So fast that neither Laurel nor Snape could voice a word of protest, Dumbledore muttered a spell. Laurel stared at her index finger where a minuscule cut had opened almost painlessly. Dumbledore squeezed the drop of blood into the blue ink bottle. Snape's went into the green bottle.

Leander picked up his quill. "Now all you have to do is place your hands on the parchment."

Gingerly Laurel touched the now empty scroll. It didn't feel like parchment at all. It felt … alive, pulsating.

"Now, were are we?" the cartographer muttered under his breath. "Here is 'now'. But where is 'then'? No, that's too early. Ah, there it is."

He plotted a blue dot on the bottom edge of the parchment and then a green dot right next to it. Then he rose his wand and Laurel felt her consciousness split. The sensation was eerie. She still was herself, she could feel Snape's presence, she heard the fire crackle. At the same time she saw herself as a girl, eleven years old. No … she felt like an eleven year old. And most amazing, she felt like a twelve year old boy as well. The sensations and emotions choked her and she muttered a plea for help.

Dumbledore placed a hand on her shoulder. "Slowly, child. Concentrate and you will be able to keep the consciousnesses apart."

By supreme effort she managed to turn her head and look at Severus. His eyes were worried. He took her free hand into his and reassured her. "We'll be together."

"Do you feel … me?"

He nodded. "It is most peculiar."

She took a deep breath. "I am alright. I can do this."

The world split again.

Laurel looked across the yard and tried not to stare at the boy. He was tall, dark haired and kept to himself whenever she saw him. Being a first year, she only knew he was in Slytherin from his robe, but she had heard his name mentioned by some of the older students in her house. His name was Severus Snape, and most Ravenclaws feared or hated him.

Severus went across the yard towards the library. He felt the little Ravenclaw stare at him and shrugged. He knew what they whispered behind his back. Freak. Bully. Dark wizard. It was only his second year in Hogwarts but he had acquired some notoriety pretty soon. What did he care? His elbow throbbed painfully and he pulled the sleeves of his robe down so nobody would see the black bruises.

Dumbledore felt Laurel's pulse. "How do you feel, my dear?"

"I am fine," she assured him.

"Severus?"

Snape nodded, his eyes slightly misted. He recognised his feelings from those long gone-by school days. As far as he could see, this was not an alternative past but his own. Safe for the knowledge he had now about a girl's feelings on her first days of school. But then - in his past Laurel had not been at Hogwarts.

Pictures flashed by like lightning bolts.

"Mr. Snape, I am very disappointed. Being a sixt year student you should know the rules by now! I shall have to inform your Head of house and the Headmaster."

Severus paled. Dumbledore had explicitly forbidden him to enter the restricted section of the library unless a teacher accompanied him - and guarded the books. And now this! He'd certainly get expelled. The mere thought to be sent home after only three weeks with no chance to ever return … Home where his father was … He suddenly felt sick.

Professor Clemens stared at him, her glasses riding high on her head. They stood in the remains of a glasshouse. Shreds of glass and wood covered the ground. The potion Severus had concocted in secrecy had blown up so violently that the thatch roof lay hundreds of meters away.

"It is my fault, Professor," a shy voice said.

Severus rolled his eyes. Not her again! Not the little Ravenclaw who followed him like a puppy dog. Lately he had the distinctive feeling she was spying on him because wherever he went, she was already there. He had tried to scare her away but she seemed immune to his cruel jokes. She even dared to defend others who had the misfortune to become the object of his wrath …

"Miss Hunter?" Professor Clemens frowned. „Do not tell me you have been part of this! Theft of a restricted book, handling of explosives outside the Potions lab. Destruction of school property."

"I am not part of this, Professor," Laurel said.

Severus clenched his fists. As much as he detested the idea to be saved by this obnoxious girl - for a moment he had felt pardoned.

"It was my idea and my doing alone. He," Laurel nodded at the boy who stared at her in disbelieve, "was just spying at me."

Severus found her in one of the greenhouses next afternoon. She sat on a wooden bench, a pile of pots and saplings in front of her, crying silently.

He cleared his throat. "Laurel?"

She did not look up but kept planting and sobbing.

He sat next to her on the wooden bench.

"I … apologise." It didn't come easy but he meant it. Her tears scared him. She had always been a fierce little creature, ever ready to defend others or stand her ground. He had never seen her cry, not even last year when he made her favourite books go up in flames to keep her from following him.

She sniffled. Her eyes were puffy and her voice shaky when she answered. "What do you care?"

Severus passed her a reasonably clean handkerchief. "I didn't ask you to lie for me."

"They would have sent you away."

"So?"

She blew her nose and sniffed. "It would have been unfair. They should not keep us rom knowledge."

"Ah, a true Ravenclaw is speaking!"

"There shouldn't be a restricted section in the library. That way they only force you … some of us … to try stuff in secrecy. I had to borrow some of the History books since Professor Ranke considers me too young to read them."

He thought about it. Potions was the only subject that truly fascinated him. And he was so far ahead of his class it simply bored him to death. Maybe she was right.

"So what is your punishment?"

"100 points. That is bad. But there is also the damaged greenhouse. My parents could never afford to pay for it. Dumbledore showed mercy and will let me pay it off with work. I'll tend to the greenhouses in my spare time. All year long. Probably for the rest of my life."

He stared at her. "I have the money. I will pay for it."

"Ah, sod you, Snape," she spit and threw his damp handkerchief in his face. "Keep your money and your apologies to yourself. Not all problems can be solved with money!"

He calmly picked up the handkerchief and mused why he didn't feel the cold anger that usually choked him whenever anybody insulted him.

"What are you talking about?"

"I'll spend all my spare time in the greenhouses and because of that, I'll fail Potions. My grades are abysmal anyway but if I don't have time to study, I'll fail for sure."

"Fail?" He sneered. "You are a Ravenclaw. Your kind studies until they drop. They don't fail any subject. Well, maybe Quidditch, but nothing you can learn from books."

"But Potions! I simply don't get it. I tried, I read the damn book over and over again. It just doesn't go together. And now I won't have the time to do extra study."

He stared at the distant sunset. "I could help you. I am good at Potions."

He would come to the greenhouse every evening and sit at one of the tables with her Potions book in his lap. While she pruned frail stems, potted saplings and watered the many different plants Professor Fern kept on the shelves, he went over the lessons. And he started with year one, the very basic stuff.

"How did you ever make it to fifth year without understanding the reaction of incense with yellow mica?"

She shrugged and tied the purple stem of an Icelandic lily to a supporting stick. "I can recite all these recipes by heart. That seemed sufficient."

"But did you never wonder how they actually worked?"

Laurel gave him a quick glance. She rather liked the passionate expression in his face. As cold and detached he might appear most times, when he talked about Potions a fire lit up in his eyes.

"Mr. Snape, you seem to have developed a peculiar attachment to the greenhouses?" Headmaster Dumbledore's eyes were as always kind and blue as a baby's. Severus gritted his teeth. Had he been so obvious?

"I have no idea what you are referring to, Headmaster. I was simply taking a walk."

"I would be the last person to discourage my students from taking physical exercise." The older wizard smiled. "Just don't stay outside until after dark, will you?"

Severus stood there, long after Dumbledore had left. He clenched his fists. How stupid could you be? Spending hours of his precious time to try and force the exact art of Potions into that girl's head. Could this be some elaborate prank? Had James Potter finally found a way to expose his arch-enemy to the laughter of all Slytherins for spending his time with a girl from Ravenclaw? With sudden suspicion he drew his wand from his sleeve and muttered "Declaratio!" Had he been under a spell the Declaration-Charm should uncover it. He would hear a warning bell. But he didn't hear a thing.

He'd stay away from her. He had enough problems as it was. Only five weeks until Christmas and he still was not sure if he would be allowed to stay at Hogwarts. Better not to aggravate Dumbledore. Laurel would have to study on her own, without his help. For her own best.

He stayed away for three days. At first Laurel waited for him, then she slowly had to accept he wouldn't show up anymore. It hurt more than she was willing to admit, and she had to constantly remind herself that she didn't care for him to not start crying again. Her room mates wondered about her behaviour enough as it was.

When she looked up and saw him standing in the doo of the greenhouse, her hands suddenly shook so hard she dropped a pot.

"Your eyes are puffy. You cried," he said softly.

"I missed you."

"You cried because of me?" His voice sounded incredulously.

"I missed you," she repeated without looking at him.

Severus watched her, unsure what to do. He had never noticed how lovely she was. Her hands were covered with garden soil and a slight scratch on one cheek showed she had been working on the prickleweed plants, Professor Fern kept at the back of the greenhouses. Without thinking he reached out and touched the grazed skin. She didn't flinch, just looked at him with warm brown eyes.

"We should not be here, together."

"But why? We haven't done anything yet but talking and revising Potions."

"Yet?"

She blushed and twisted the apron in her hands.

He couldn't suppress the joy he suddenly felt.

"Would you mind if I … if I kissed you now?"

"No," she stammered. "I mean, I wouldn't mind. Only I have never …"

"Me neither," he said softly.

His hands cupped her face. Laurel forced herself to keep her eyes open, to take his eyes in, the long lashes, the sensual mouth. His hair was too short, it would be a lovely shade of black, she thought, if he wore it longer.

Severus' lips lingered over hers for a second, as if he had to dig up the courage to touch her in such an intimate way. He had imagined this moment for so long it alsmost scared him to be so close to her. She smelled of earth, of sun and fresh green grass. Her eyes, so warm, so radiant with tenderness, ensured him. She stood on tiptoes and that slight elevation was enough to let their lips touch.

The kiss was soft at first, nothing but a whisper. Then it got warmer, more passionate and Laurel gasped in surprise when the tip of his tongue stroked her lips and begged her to let it in. She had heard about French kissing in the dorm, of course she had. She was sixteen after all, and sometimes she felt like the only girl her age who had never been kissed. Until now, by Morgaine, until now .. If only she had know how good it felt, she'd have kissed him weeks ago! He explored her mouth, slowly, and with a soft moan she started to retaliate.

Eventually she had to catch her breath and looked up at him. "Not bad for a first time."

Severus stroked her hair and let the pleasure wash over him like a warm rain. "Not bad at all," he smiled down at her.

They walked back towards the castle. On the snowcovered lawn stood an old mighty blood oak, now bare of leaves. They had their routine by now. At the tree they would part and Laurel would sneak into the hall first. Severus would follow fifteen minutes later, as to not rise any suspicion.

But on this evenings they remained together, hidden by the huge trunk, for a few more minutes.

"What will the Ravenclaws do if they ever find out about us?"

"They'll try to talk me out of it."

He gently stroked her cheek. "Ah, you Ravenclaws. You always believe in words and reason. And they'd be right to warn you off."

"Why?"

"I am a Dark Wizard, remember? And a Slytherin. That makes it a question of house pride as well."

"What will the Slytherins do?"

"They'd make your live hell. I'd understand if you .."

"Hush …" She placed a finger on his lips to silence him. "Sod Slytherin. And Ravenclaw for all it matters. The only house we belong to is … the greenhouse." She kissed him one last time, very gently but with growing passion.

Then she ran off to the castle.

Laurel looked up and had problems to focus. Snape still stared at the map as if it was a window into heaven - which it was rigth now, she had to admit.

Dumbledore laid a hand on her shoulder to steady her. "Try not to switch realities too fast, Laurel," he warned gently.

She smiled at him. "I just wanted to thank you, Headmaster. I knew it would be good, but this is …"

His eyes clouded with sudden sadness. "Do not thank me before you have seen it all, girl."