The Birthday Present
by Excessivelyperky
Disclaimer: All belongs to Rowling and various assigns, including Warner Brothers, Scholastic Books, and so on. Once more with feeling, thanks for Snape's Nightie and zafaran!
Chapter 52: Change of Venue
Soon it was time to dine with Draco. Snape looked forward to it, though the boy looked more like his father every year. Yet in many ways the young Slytherin was much more like his mother, and Severus had long been friends with Narcissa, once she realized what his situation was truly like. By all rights I should dislike the boy as much as I used to loathe Potter, Snape thought ironically. Yet now he was looking for it, the Gryffindor was more like his mother, too. It was strange how he could look at the way he behaved at times as if he were watching himself in the mirror of the eyes of others. Of course, he'd always been able to do it under the gaze of the Dark Lord. Death was the penalty for failure there. No doubt Poppy had adjusted his potions again, though she'd denied it earlier in the day when he'd turned in the werewolf book.
He and his godson ate in his private quarters, on trays Winky brought them—with, alas, the inevitable potion. The little elf urged him to eat every bite. Severus felt he could tonight. Besides, he wanted to erase the shadow of worry in his godson's eyes. It would be worth some minor discomfort later.
Then Draco told him what had happened in the Headmaster's Office, and with Moody. Snape's blood ran cold and he lay down his fork.
"I thought it was the best thing to do, too," the younger wizard said. "After all, you're a member, too, at least according to Kreacher. We all thought we knew what you were really doing there, of course. I hope…I hope Father still thinks that way."
"I do, too," Snape said. His stomach clenched with terror.
"It did hurt a bit to have Mad-Eye looking on when the Headmaster poked away at me inside, but not nearly as much as it did last summer when er, he was at dinner the night after we'd gathered to try to help you. Oh, Merlin, I was so afraid you were going to die!"
This was even worse. "Was he there long?"
"Not really. I was so happy you were still alive I couldn't think of anything else. It didn't last very long anyway. I think know why the Headmaster did it. Kreacher's talked about how you were treated last year, especially by Moody, and how Master Mad-Eye never trusted anything you said unless Dumbledore backed it up. It's…it's not right. Maybe it should be different with me. Moody…he's a coarse old bastard and doesn't care who knows it, but he…he's not as bad as I thought."
"Language, Draco, though personally I agree. In an odd way, he's quite fair. He's as strict with himself as he is with others. But…would you describe what happened with the phoenix feather? That's new, and I want to know more about it." He had a horrible suspicion of what Phoenix Breath, the nickname for the distilled aromatic of a phoenix feather, could do.
His godson went over it again. "Will it do what the Headmaster says it will?"
"Yes. I doubt those who wear the Dark Mark will think of looking for it. The changes that Phoenix Breath make are quite subtle, and few outside the Order will consider the possibility. I will have to speak to the Headmaster, however, and find out if the change in your apprenticeship will have any additional effect because of this." Right before I strangle the old man for putting you at risk like this! "I don't think there will be problems, but better to know ahead of time in case precautions need to be taken."
The young man nodded. He ate with an appetite normal for his age, apparently unworried. Well, Phoenix Breath was good for instilling courage and warmth.
As soon as the trays were empty, Snape went to see the Headmaster. Fortunately the gargoyle made him wait, and allowed him to realize how futile it would be to rage at Dumbledore over this new development. It wouldn't work. It never had. Albus had always done precisely as he wished no matter what.
Once the door opened, he merely walked in, accepted the offer of a lemon drop and tea, quietly dropped the sweet into his pocket while appearing to put it into his mouth instead, and listened to a few kindly-meant words of greeting. He was a little surprised to see none of the other members of the staff there. No doubt he was about to hear what the old wizard really thought this time, with no witnesses. Severus knew it would happen sometime this year, but didn't expect it to be quite this soon.
After the courtesies had run themselves out, Snape spoke as calmly as he could. "I had dinner with Mr. Malfoy this evening. He told me about taking oath to the Order, with Moody to witness it. Why did you use Phoenix Breath?"
"I want to protect both him and the Order," Albus said, though he had the grace to look unhappy about it. "He is already in great danger, and more so since he will become an apprentice to his aunt. She can bring influences to bear others can't. He could be swamped in darkness even with your help, which may not always be available. Fawkes will be a comfort to him as nothing else could. I also want him and Auror Moody to form a partnership now. I must think to my future as well, Severus. I cannot allow the boy and his friends to be left without guidance if the War should last longer than your participation in it, or my ability to help them."
"If Draco were ever inducted into the Inner Circle he might die of this," Snape said.
"I hope that won't occur, if only because of the nature of the sacrifice that will be required of him. So far you have been able to keep your—our students from much of that by taking it onto your own shoulders."
"Hoping is not much help. If Lucius should die, for instance, Death Eaters like to follow family tradition. It would be quite unusual for someone so young to reach such a high rank, but strange things happen in war on both sides. Also, when he becomes Lestrange's apprentice, his Dark Mark will be reinforced. His link to her may end up becoming a real one. I don't want to see him strangled by that, if Phoenix Breath does what I think it does about disloyalty. I agree he will require assistance not to be overwhelmed by this task. But I still don't want to withdraw my claim to Miss Edgecombe and leave her fate to chance."
The Headmaster looked unhappy. "If he has some memento of you to reinforce your link to him as his godfather, that could help overcome the magical effect of the transfer. If it's any consolation, Severus, I found the boy completely loyal to you. Even Moody couldn't find much wrong, and since he was in rapport for a short time, you know he looked."
Snape was startled, though Draco had said something along those lines. "I thought that was extremely difficult. Are you certain you should have attempted it?" He barely cut off the deadly phrase at your age before he uttered it.
"Hogwarts sustains me, Severus. In a way, it does what it can for you, too. And I have done too little to protect your House over the years. It is only just to do so now. If Moody survives the war, his opinion will count for much."
Unfortunately that made sense. The Potions Master could easily imagine a future with the Dark Lord gone and Slytherin even more of a pariah than before. Having Draco as a member of the Order as well as himself might help. "Will other members of the Order take the same form of Oath? I realize it must be done one by one, as Fawkes has only so many feathers."
'Yes. The stakes are far too high for me to live in a dream world where only Slytherins are capable of treachery." The Headmaster bowed his head. "If you wish, you may be a hidden witness when it becomes the Trio's turn. I fear only Miss Granger will realize the danger. At the same time they will be made aware that Mr. Malfoy became a member before they did. I wish…I wish I had done the same for you when you were first sworn. The Potters might have believed your warning then, and still be alive."
Snape felt bewildered. The anger and resentment he'd brought into this office had no place to rest now. He wasn't used to Dumbledore listening to him, especially when they were alone like this. "It should be soon," he said. "All three of them have had adult responsibilities thrust on them, yet are still treated like children. I…I do understand, a little, why you want to protect them. Just today I watched my first years drink their chocolate and decided to ignore their horseplay. I know I shouldn't have, because next year will be all the harder if I am too lenient with them now. I didn't think it could hurt, just for once…even Mr. Andreas spoke up from his usual corner. Yet I cannot be too soft with them, or they will be at a disadvantage in the years to come. Look at Draco. I've always been too soft with him, and he didn't really grow up till just a few months ago." He felt appalled at the truths pouring out of his mouth. Albus had probably counted on his palming the lemon drop and had dosed his tea instead, though he didn't have the funny aftertaste in the back of his throat Veritaserum so often gave him. He'd never mentioned that ability to Moody, of course.
The old wizard looked up from his cup. "I really expected you to come in here breathing fire, and it threw me off when you didn't. I have a terribly hard time ignoring you when you speak so reasonably, I suppose. It seems I still have a lot to learn as well."
Something inside him shattered. "There's been something wrong for years," Severus said in a hoarse whisper. "And I blamed everything and everybody but myself for it." So much anger, and so little actually done. He didn't understand the way his emotions were churning. His first impulse was to stuff them all back inside somehow. It was never safe here, it could never be safe in this office, and suddenly panic threatened to overwhelm him.
"You weren't always wrong. In fact, most of the time you were only trying to protect students you knew were being ignored. And I have not given you nearly enough credit for your conduct this morning."
Snape lifted his gaze from the floor.
"You see, I quite understand why you shut down when Harry mentioned Christmas," the Headmaster said quietly. "I know what you will be risking during the guardianship hearing. We haven't changed anything. Harry will be protected, but you will pay the price."
"It…it doesn't matter," he said dully.
"It does. Try to believe me that it does."
He took a deep breath. "I have a table in my bedroom to remind me how people really feel," Snape said slowly. "I know what needs to be done. But I wish, just once, that someone in the Order would risk something for me." He shook his head. "I know that learning how to deal with Moody is Draco's only real chance of surviving the war if the Dark Lord doesn't destroy him first. I know Potter is even more of a target than I am. I wouldn't wish Malfoy Manor on anyone, not even Longbottom! But Mrs. Weasley was the only one who asked what price I might pay. I might survive it, if Sybil can be trusted. But we both know what the end will be!" His voice broke, and he turned his head away.
"I would like you to speak to Professor Flitwick once this talk is over, Severus," Albus said softly. "He has some ideas on that you need to hear."
He looked up to see that Dumbledore was offering him a handkerchief. Snape shook his head and pulled out his own. The poor thing had double duty today, between Miss Edgecombe and himself. He dried the tears that threatened to spill out to his face. "I told the Ravenclaw girl today to find some place where it was safe to fall apart," he said wryly. "I didn't know I was going to have to take my own advice." What was wrong with him? He knew it wasn't wise to show weakness to anyone. He couldn't imagine what had changed.
"A lot of this is my fault," the Headmaster said. "When you shout, I stop listening. I've done it for years, no matter how right you are. Today I was forced to hear you. It's been good for me, too. I've let this situation fester for years and blamed you for anything that went wrong. I've discovered a great deal about Harry in our own Occlumency sessions. You helped him learn this year by the sacrifices you made to improve last summer with the Dursleys. He still holds a great deal of anger and resentment against you for the past, but as we both saw this morning, he is managing his own emotions much better. Soon it will be time for you to offer him lessons again. I believe he will listen much more closely then."
"It will be hard for both of us, Albus. Isn't he learning well with you?"
"Yes, much better than I hoped after what I saw in your mind. I am strong as a Legilimens, sometimes too strong, but my technique is different than Tom's. Your style is much closer, though you are so young you haven't developed the more subtle variations just yet. In your copious spare time," Dumbledore said, stroking his beard, "you may wish to attempt a softer version of your usual shock and awe. I believe this is what our enemy used last year on Harry to instill the false visions along with the true."
Snape nodded as he rapidly regained his composure. "Mr. Potter will have to be kept more informed, then, or his curiosity will lead him to resist attempts to shut off the flow."
"I remember the pensieve incident." The old wizard pursed his lips. "He's already aware you were the only one to tell him the truth about his father and his friends. You should appreciate that he does want the truth, and not just the pretty lies the rest of us have told him. That's another mistake I made, and you've been the one to suffer from it over the years."
"The truth is the only thing that will help him." And it's the only thing that will help me. I never wanted to see the boy for himself while he wore the face of James Potter. Things could have been different if only he'd known. The children of Slytherin could have been managed; how many times had Dumbledore put pressure on him to ease up on the Trio? Potter adored listening in to private conversations, and so did Draco. It would have been relatively simple to set up a situation where young Malfoy or one of his other students could have 'stumbled' in on a conversation where he was being lectured on his conduct towards the Potter boy. "If I had asked, would you have rated me severely for roasting Mr. Potter in a place where one of my Snakes could have accidentally listened in?"
The Headmaster's eyes went wide. "Of course, Severus. I am still willing to do so if you like. Considering how many times I have allowed you to be the arm of discipline while I played 'good Auror', it is only fair to return the favor. Tom should have less to complain about, even if you've made other arrangements with him. Since I actually did threaten you with Azkaban, it will help if others confirm it."
"If…if only," Snape said. If only I'd done this a long time ago. When the Dark Lord returned, he could have easily complained that Dumbledore was forcing his hand, and that a complaisant, trusting Harry Potter would be far easier to corrupt or mislead than a hostile, angry one. If only I had used my mind on the situation, rather than reacting so emotionally, I could even have managed Sirius Black. It would have been extraordinarily easy to reverse the way the dog had made a fool out of him the previous year. In fact, Black had almost managed it for himself that one morning when he'd been trying to explain a few simple things to the Gryffindor and the mutt had charged out with his wand drawn. If I had kept my self-control and stayed empty handed, even then the boy might have wondered who really had his best interests at heart. But no, I had to react the way I always do!
He looked up at Albus. The old wizard's eyes were sad. "I knew something was wrong all these years," the Headmaster said. "In fact, I told you many times you had to change your ways. I couldn't help seeing what was tearing you apart, but I never lifted a finger to help you in a way that would have worked. I wanted to blame you for everything, you see, and that made it impossible for Harry to respect you the way he needed to if you were to teach him." Albus wiped his face with a handkerchief of his own for a moment, then continued. "And last summer—last summer I even used an Unforgivable on you. I will pay for that someday. But you are paying now. I don't know what else to do about this case, Severus! I wish you could have loved Harry as much as I do. You've been given so little reason to love any of us, and yet we still ask so much of you. But it was my mistake to ignore how much you love Draco. I was proud of him today, and you should be as well."
Dumbledore took a deep breath. "So much Potions work over the years has poisoned you. I know this regime to help you with it seems even worse than the disease. But I am proud of you, too. We see the changes in you, and I suspect you do as well. The Swiss are right about how Brewer's Bog affects the mind as well as the body. I wish I had paid more attention. It's just that you're so young to be so badly affected. I wish they had come out with this process years ago."
"Whatever time I have left is better spent on other things, and not wasted in regret," Snape said harshly, speaking to himself as much as to the older wizard.
"True. Severus…try to find some time for joy. Perhaps if you can empty out your pain and sorrow, you'll finally have room for that."
And store up joy for end of day. The last line of Sybil's prophecy rang in his mind. "How?" he shouted, finally unable to contain his fury. "When?" He winced as a crystal bowl cracked with the force of his anger. The Potions Master slumped in his chair, humiliated at his loss of self control. Everyone's life was to be saved, even his godson's if the boy could survive his dear Aunt Bella, everyone…everyone but him. "You're always so full of plans to make things better. Why can't you think of something for me?"
"I don't know," Albus said gently. "I wish I could."
Fawkes fluttered in, but stayed on his perch. Snape could swear the phoenix glared at him. He remembered last summer, when the bird had tried to comfort him down in the dungeons. At least Draco will have that much, he thought. The boy would be less prone to worry for a while, as if he'd downed a Stinksap Potion. "Given available resources," he said, trying to keep his voice even, "it would be a good idea to administer the same kind of oath you did to Mr. Malfoy to the rest of the Order fairly soon. Although you will have to be careful with Mr. Fletcher when you do. He'll steal the feather and sell it on the black market before you can vaporize it."
The Headmaster appeared happy with the change in subject. "Isn't that the truth. Yet if I do, there will be questions why you haven't taken it, though I may have convinced Moody you already have. I also informed him that he wouldn't trust you if he saw you drink from the Grail and he admitted it. Oh, Severus, I wish you could take this new form of the Oath. I don't want you lost in the darkness. But I fear it might kill you." The old wizard glanced pointedly at Snape's left hand, which still had a brown mark from Fawkes' tears.
"Oh." For a moment he'd almost forgotten about the curse that becoming a part of the Inner Circle had laid on him. Then Severus thought of something. "If…if I am close to death anyway, would that free me from being the Dark Lord's slave afterwards?"
Albus looked startled. "I didn't think of that. Moody wondered if Tom's true death might bring the same to all his followers, keyed through the Mark. It may be very important indeed to have all of your apprentices take this oath."
"Mr. Potter, too. He was affected by the suicide spell last summer."
"Yes, of course. How stupid of me to forget that. I swear by Hogwarts itself that I will not leave you bound to Tom after death. I have asked Flitwick to research a charm that could negate the effect of the Dark Mark. There are two prisoners in Azkaban who will probably cooperate with him, as they tried to hurt themselves at the same time you and some of your students did."
"Percy Weasley should also take this form of the oath soon," Snape remarked. "I still hope Draco isn't hurt when his apprenticeship is transferred to his aunt."
"Feel free to ask Flitwick to work on a token Mr. Malfoy can carry, then. He'll need a bit of your blood, but any Affinity Charm keyed to you should be as strong as possible," Dumbledore said. "Find a memento the boy can reasonably carry. Your tie with him as your godfather should be as strong as possible."
A clock chimed. Snape glanced up at it, and saw the main hand had moved to Getting Late. "I know you won't sleep well unless you talk to Flitwick about this. But try to rest, Severus, even when you think you're feeling stronger. Find…find something you wish to do just for your own pleasure and I will find time for you to enjoy it. And please, don't blame Harry for wanting his own family. In many ways, his situation is much like your own."
Snape knew there was something Albus wasn't telling him. He left feeling churned-up inside, as if all his emotions were contesting for mastery at once. Instead of rushing to Ravenclaw Tower, though, he summoned a house elf and asked for the small wizard's location. "Infirmary, Master Potions Master," the little thing squeaked, and disappeared.
He stifled a smile at the title Winky had no doubt enforced among her fellows, and then let it drop as he went towards Madam Pomfrey's domain. He rarely thought about the health of his fellow teachers, except for Minerva after last year. Yet Flitwick was not young, either, and he shouldn't be surprised to find the smaller wizard had his own problems. I have been self-centered even for a Slytherin this year, he thought. Yet even if there's no time for him to work on my problems, Draco can't wait. We could be summoned soon to make the exchange. Deep in his heart, Severus knew Albus was right about Bella's possible influence on her nephew. The call of blood and the Mark could overwhelm all else if the boy had no shield to protect him.
The infirmary was less crowded than usual, as Poppy had clearly done her winnowing of the usual Sunday night visitors wishing to bail out of classes the next day. He nodded at those who had been able to prove real ailments besides terror-induced stomach aches, and knocked on the door to the office.
"Come in," he heard Pomfrey's voice say, and did so.
Flitwick was sitting up on a small padded table Poppy used to examine people in a more personal setting when things weren't bad enough for the private room. His left leg was exposed and the mediwitch was waving her wand over it.
"I'll come back later," Snape said, and began to back out.
"Have a seat," said the tiny Charms professor. "It's just my bad knee again. Acts up whenever the weather changes. I know you want to talk to me anyway."
"I just finished speaking with the Headmaster. I had some questions about an Affinity charm for Mr. Malfoy." He closed the door behind him and put a Muffling Spell around them.
"Nothing else?"
Poppy had a look in her eyes when she finished chanting over Flitwick's knee that clearly meant you next, so Severus knew better than to retreat. "No. Should there be? I mean, I do have a question about a problem I could face next year, but I could ask about that later."
"Oh, hell, I know I should have been there!" The Charms professor jumped down from the table and did a few quick knee bends. "Ah, good as new. Thank you, Poppy." He seated himself back up on the table again, while Poppy sat down behind her desk. "Albus didn't tell you, then."
"Tell me what?" He felt numb.
"The Headmaster recited the actual text of Trelawney's prophecy for you to me," Flitwick said. "Unfortunately, I think the phrase 'sun cycle' is open to interpretation. I will grant it probably means what Sybil believes it does, but I feel it could also mean 'season' as well as year. I should not like to see you caught short."
Summer had ended only a couple of weeks ago, and autumn was slipping past. "I…I really hope you're wrong," he said. Maybe he wouldn't survive the aftermath of the hearing after all. No wonder Dumbledore sounded so guilty earlier this evening.
"I probably am," Flitwick said. "For one thing, I'd hate to see you lose that bet to Lowenstein by default. But it's better to err on the side of caution. So I want to move on that charm for you as soon as possible."
"Mr. Malfoy will probably need his first," Snape said crisply. "Miss Edgecombe cannot remain as Madam Lestrange's apprentice for any longer than she must. In fact, she will probably be summoned the next time as well, since both apprentices must be present when the exchange is made." If his time was going to be so short, he needed to put his affairs in order. Happy Christmas for you, Mr. Potter!
"You're quite right," Flitwick said. "I'll need a sample of your blood, and the item involved as soon as possible. I'll have it done by Friday evening, if not before. As for Miss Edgecombe, she appears to be coping, but it's obvious even to me it's a shell. I wish I knew a way to help her trust me again."
Snape told him about her visit to the dungeons. "I hope you don't think I am overstepping my bounds," he said when he finished.
"No," the Head of Ravenclaw said quietly. "I only hope I can repay you somehow. You'll need a charm for your other problem."
"What's that?" Pomfrey asked.
"Merely a trick Tom has played on his followers," Flitwick said. "He may be drawing the strength he needs to stay alive from all of those who are part of the Inner Circle. Even the dead ones."
"Oh." The mediwitch made a face. "Yes. I remember, now. Phoenix tears hurt you now. But I never thought your prospects were that horrible."
"He won't enjoy it," Severus said viciously. "He'll know the knife I put in my Mark last summer was only the beginning!" Then he bent over and put his head in his hands. If only he could just disappear and not have to face this. What would happen to his students once he died? "I hope it's quick," he muttered. "I hope it doesn't hurt…" He knew both wishes were impossible, though. The Dark Lord himself would make sure his death took as long as possible.
He felt Poppy's hand patting him on one shoulder, and tried not to flinch away. Severus slowly took a deep, shuddering breath and forced himself into an upright position. Even if Flitwick were wrong about the exact timing, he'd still have to look Death in the face sooner than he liked.
"Sybil let me watch her memory of the ritual you carried out for me through a pensieve," he said. "It was the gorse from Azkaban that Moody left that finally triggered the spell. It would not be considered odd if I carried it with me if it were discovered. If something from Fawkes was with it, that might be enough to sever my connection with the Dark Lord."
Flitwick nodded. "I'll have to work out something so any charm wouldn't be triggered by accident, yet would help you even if you couldn't move or speak on your own. If it's discovered you could truthfully tell them Moody gave it to you as a reminder. Everyone would believe that."
"Especially since I think he meant it that way," Snape said. This interpretation of Sybil's prophecy dismayed him. It had taken him this long to adjust to giving up all hope of surviving the war, and to think he might not even see another Christmas was another jolt. "I hope you're wrong," he said.
"So do I," said the smaller wizard.
"I suppose," Severus added, "I ought to thank you anyway. I should feel so very stupid bleating out 'but it wasn't supposed to be so soon!' in front of the Dark Lord or his followers."
Flitwick grimaced. "We'll do all we can to prove me wrong." He eased himself down from the padded table. "I hate to leave, but it is Sunday night and I need to make sure my dunderheads leave off studying or turning the common room into a fishbowl or whatever they think amusing for a Sunday night."
"I need to do the same…" Snape began to stand.
"No, you don't. Not just right now," Pomfrey said crisply. "I wanted to go over a few things with you anyway."
He obeyed. He still felt slightly numb after Flitwick's conjecture, and watched the Charms professor leave. "What now, Poppy?" he asked.
"It is my professional opinion that you should continue the potions regime anyway," she said. "There would be many questions asked if you stopped it now, plus you would still be ill from the original problem. You are thinking more clearly with the support of the potions for the side effects, and from purging the poisons from your system. Also, you still need a reason to go to Switzerland for the next full moon, or so I understand."
He nodded, too apathetic just now to argue. If Dumbledore had known about Flitwick's idea, that would explain his rush to make sure of Draco. The war would go on after his death after all. "I wish…I wish I could live long enough to see him defeated…"
"You still might. Flitwick could be wrong, and he was honest enough to say so," the mediwitch continued in a softer voice. "Also, Albus told me about the guardianship suits. I know it would easy to do so, but please don't blame young Mr. Potter for his eagerness to be cared for by the Weasleys."
He bowed his head. How could he blame the boy for preferring Molly Weasley to Narcissa, when he did so himself? Even though resentment still burned beneath his heart, he knew it was wrong. "I'll have to work harder to make sure my Slytherins are protected after I'm gone," he said dully.
"Oh, Severus," she said, and poured him a cup of tea. "I want you to sit and drink this. You do have a right to be angry. I have some other news that isn't going to help, I'm afraid. Health permitting, you're to have that practice duel with Shacklebolt and Lupin next Saturday afternoon. I strongly suggest you work off some of your temper on other things for the next few days first. And if you feel you're tempted to hex them into the ground anyway, let me know and I'll make sure you're on the sick list instead. I think Albus wants you to have an outlet, but I don't think he really understands the situation."
"I don't think he ever will," Snape said, sipping the tea. He had to be careful lifting the cup, as his hands were shaking with rage. Then he looked at Madam Pomfrey, and his anger cooled. Her eyes were misted over, as if she'd taken a blow herself. "Poppy, what's wrong?"
She swallowed. "I hate telling people when they have, have little time left."
"Oh." He looked down at his tea. He probably wasn't the first, nor would be the last, who had to hear this kind of news. "I'll have to go out with a bang, then. That will make for fewer casualties showing up here." It was so frustrating! He would adapt to one set of strictures, only to have more put on him. It was almost claustrophobic. Severus finished his tea and stood. "I do need to look in on my Snakes. Flitwick's students aren't the only one with vivid imaginations, you know, and it's not fair to desert my post before I have to."
She looked up at him soberly. "I'll be here whenever you need to talk, dear. I do wish Albus had been more forthright with you…"
He smiled mirthlessly. "Why expect it now?" Snape departed. Now it all made sense. His expiry date had been moved up, was all.
He was surprised to meet Flitwick again around the corner from the infirmary. "I thought you had students to keep alive," he said.
"I do. But I wanted to say a few things away from Madam Pomfrey. An estimable woman, but not likely to appreciate my advice. Forgive me for asking personal questions, but how often do you use your late-night passes?"
Severus knew what the smaller wizard was talking about. Theoretically, any teacher could sign out late two nights a month not on a weekend. "Didn't they used to be just for male teachers?" he commented.
"Well, yes, till Madam Hooch made a fuss." The Charms professor turned pink. "But you're avoiding the subject."
"Actually, I'm out several times a month," Snape said.
"How many of them are just for you?"
None of them, Severus thought. Even the sessions with Lucius—or I should say, especially the sessions with Lucius were all for the Order. "That…that's none of your business."
"In that case, I shall just point out that Madam Puddifoot enjoys callers after hours, and is plump enough for those who like their companions that way. She is ah…well ripened, but again, none of us are as young as we used to be. I might add she is extraordinarily fond of apricot liqueur. I leave it to your imagination precisely how she enjoys it."
Now his face went hot. "Why do you think it matters?"
Flitwick looked serious. "You have little time to find what comfort you can. It is well known men, and sometimes women, in grave personal danger find certain needs becoming stronger than usual. I also hope to do the school a public service by giving you something to think about besides razing Hogwarts to the ground. If I have trespassed, please forgive me."
"You did not offend me," Snape said wearily. Now that he thought about it, shagging Molly Weasley was an impossible dream anyway. It could not hurt to set his sights in a different direction.
He thanked the Head of Ravenclaw, and went on his way. As he entered his rooms, Winky clearly sensed something was wrong, and chattered away offering comforts. Severus accepted several of them. Sitting by his fire, he looked around and realized how shabby his rooms really were. If I were to die today, others would feel sorry for me for living like this. Unfortunately, he had no head for style. Neither the brutal elegance of the Malfoys or the ticky-tacky Victorian splendor of Dumbledore's office appealed much to him. Perhaps there were charms that would allow him to try out things without the expense of constant changes. It seemed trivial to worry over such matters with his fate staring him in the face, but perhaps that was why. Far easier to fuss over the color or thickness of carpet rather than deal with reality. At least he had a couple of ensembles worth being buried in. I think I begin to understand Narcissa a little better.
At least he had some warning. Last summer he had none. His life could easily be over already. He would be unable to do anything but watch from beyond, if that much, once it was. Severus put a buttoned cloak over his clothes and made one last patrol through Slytherin. He would have all the time he needed to rest later.
As he lay in bed after his patrol, Severus discovered his imagination had difficulty accepting Flitwick's suggestion, though—and supplied a large number of uses for apricot liqueur instead.
He wondered what it would smell like mixed with cinnamon.
Then he decided instead that he would ask for another massage while in Switzerland. He had best wish for that which was attainable.
For the next several days, Snape followed Madam Pomfrey's recommendations. He had no idea where all the various predators who showed themselves in the Room of Requirement promptly at seven o'clock in the evening came from, but he took great delight in destroying more giant spiders, the remainder of the escaped pixies, and a Quintaped over the next few days. On top of that, he used up pots of ink venting his fury on paper. Odd how his anger settled watching his outpourings head towards his future destination. He also made more use of the magazine Filch had given him. He made scattered lists of what was needed to wind up his affairs properly. Snape knew he couldn't put off his visit to Gringotts much longer. Also, he had gathered quite a lot of interesting information over the years about many pureblood families. He needed to make a copy for Albus and for Rita Skeeter. Some secrets needed to come out into the light, especially if he could no longer use them for his own purposes.
He noticed during the days that his students, even his idiot first years, were trying to be more careful in their brewing. The way Potter looked at him in the sixth-year class made him wonder if the boy had finally figured out who had given him the pensieve, and the memories in it. In the past, he would have cared a great deal more than he did now. Even if it were only a side effect of all his potions, he was glad to be free of both his hostility towards, and his obsession with, the boy. You are just as much a pawn as I am, he thought. In fact, Dumbledore cared as little about your home situation as he did mine, at least till some of the Order found out about it. That afternoon he smirked to himself at how easy it had been to drop hints in his usual rant about Muggles about how the boy was treated. Moody had not been slow to pick them up.
Snape was surprised at how little attention Black had paid, though. One would have thought Potter's godfather would have been outraged at any threat to the boy. Lupin had been more concerned, but already had a full plate with his transformations and looking after his friend. Werewolves were also notoriously allergic to hippogriffs. No doubt the dust from Buckbeak's feathers had not helped.
As he looked at Harry, he thought, Well, boy, things have come to a sad pass when anyone has to depend on me for your welfare. If nothing else, I can see you passed into better hands. Molly Weasley will protect you with her life. If she has enough heart to spare for me, you will flourish when she gives you full measure. He stifled resentment, knowing he'd never had anyone's full measure. Till he glanced at Winky, who asked another question in her high-pitched voice. Snape felt ridiculous that the little elf's devotion improved his bad temper so quickly, but decided he would take it.
Late on Friday afternoon, he was called to the Headmaster's office. Dumbledore had been avoiding him since Sunday. No doubt Albus knew Flitwick had spilled the beans, and was ducking for cover. Snape entered the office drenched in violet scent. Only Miss Lovegood was capable of turning any byproduct of aconite into a pungent perfume. However, he had made sure the girl took note on what she'd done. One never knew what use could be made of an anti-werewolf repellent that could still be worn in polite company, though one hoped in somewhat lesser concentration.
Snape decided once he sat down that the ancient wizard was tormenting himself enough with guilt that he may as well let Albus manage without any further input of his own.
"How have you been, Severus?"
Doing rather nicely at reducing the local predators, as well as planning for my demise, the Potions Master thought, but sipped his tea instead. "Hoping all of Miss Lovegood's mistakes are this non-life-threatening," he said. "I should wash it off before the evening meal, though. Lupin especially will not appreciate its base."
"Ah, yes." Dumbledore fumbled with some papers in front of him. "Speaking of the DADA instructor, Mr. Shacklebolt has time this Saturday after the game to participate in a bit of dueling with him. I understand you have improved in health somewhat over the past week."
"I suppose I have slaughtered enough denizens of the Room of Requirement to pull back my hexes a little bit," Severus allowed, answering the Headmaster's real question. "Standard ground rules, I suppose?"
"Right. No Unforgivables, two-on-one, and I'll alert Madam Pomfrey she may have guests. Both Professor Lupin and Mr. Shacklebolt have been warned they are on their own."
You don't have to tell me where I stand, Albus. "That will be helpful," he said neutrally.
"And…and Professor Flitwick said you might find this useful." Dumbledore handed over the small book of potion recipes Snape intended to give Draco at their next dinner—or hastily shoved into the boy's hands just as they were summoned if necessary. "He said you would need to finish the spell."
"Thank you." He'd do that part tonight. Snape still had the vellum certificate proclaiming him Draco's godfather, while Narcissa had owled him the small silver spoon which had been all he could afford at the time for the christening gift.
"And Severus…"
Snape looked up.
"I…I am so dreadfully sorry."
He ground his teeth. "I have worked all week to gain what little acceptance of the situation that I have, sir. It would not be helpful to lose it now. For all I know I will be sent for tonight. You have told me about the duel and given me something I desperately need. Let us leave things there." He paused for a moment, then spoke in a softer tone. "This is one thing you can't make better. I appreciate you want to try. I have done my best not to inflict any unwonted anger on any of my students, especially Mr. Potter. I should hate to break anything more in this office. I fear the bowl on top of that shelf is going to stay cracked if it falls apart any more."
Dumbledore nodded as the Potions Master stood. "Then go with my blessing. Don't be afraid to ask for anything you should want or need."
Severus nodded, and left the office. It probably would not do to express his desire to haul Molly Weasley down into his dungeons and try out the bottle of anisette he'd found in a cabinet a few nights ago. His body had been on fire all this week. Albus might understand this was a perfectly normal reaction to the threat of death, or he might have forgotten over the long years since the Grindelwald War. Snape wasn't going to take the chance.
He had even looked at the envelope tucked inside his Death Eater cloak that Narcissa had delivered to him and wondered what sort of entertainment the Dark Lord had in mind. As he walked back down to his rooms, he even thought about visiting Malfoy Manor. He knew she would welcome him. Yet he liked her too much to put her life at risk, and it would be no matter what precautions they took.
I had better put such thoughts away for now, he thought. I must come to this spell for Draco without any such taint. Making the sure the book was ready was more important. I'll think of Molly later.
Snape made a quick sweep around Slytherin, caught a few of his students out of their quarters, and sent them back with only a few token snarls. He went into his quarters, found the book, the parchment, and the spoon, set them out upon an empty table and chanted the oath he'd taken when Draco was three days old. "In your father's stead I will stand. With my hand I will guide you, with my head I will advise you, and with my heart I will love you," he repeated softly out loud. It did not matter what lay between him and Lucius, at least at this moment. His son was a different person altogether, and could be cherished without being poisoned by what happened in the past. I was given a second chance with Draco. Despite my occasional impulse to smack the boy, I have done my best. Oh, Merlin, if only I could have talked him out of taking the Mark to begin with! Yet…yet Albus was right, though I still want to smack him for what he did to the boy. Yet Draco is safer with Moody on his side, and Fawkes. Severus briefly mourned the loss of what contact he'd had with the phoenix, but knew it would do his godson good. Now, let's make sure the next Dark rite doesn't kill him!
To that end he stood before the small table and made his hands into a cup. He mentally envisioned his magic, reinforced by the repetition of his vow, filling that cup and overflowing onto the book, the paper, and the spoon. It was probably his imagination, but in his mind's eye he could see shimmering waves of air swirl and gather inside his hands. He then tipped the 'cup' and let those waves spill down onto the items below. He knew it was his imagination when they appeared to glow for a moment, then looked normal again once the spell was over.
The link would be completed the moment Draco touched any of them. The Affinity Charm Flitwick had embedded with his blood would also provide an extra connection. Snape hoped it would be enough to help Draco make the transfer to Bella's loving care without mishap, and later to keep the boy from being overwhelmed by her devotion to the darkness.
He was done for now. Severus kissed the book, the certificate, and the spoon, and did not feel foolish at all as he put them all away. Then he quickly wiped the traitorous moisture from his eyes as he made ready for bed. Draco's burden would soon be heavy enough without bearing the weight of his own forfeited hopes and dreams.
Snape glanced at the broom on the rack on his bedroom door. Tomorrow afternoon he might show both Lupin and Shacklebolt a surprise or two. I shall endeavor to be clever rather than vicious tomorrow, he resolved. It will be the first time we clash, and it will be more helpful to take their measure rather than to crush them. I am not likely to detect a pattern in their combat in this bout anyway.
He smiled at last, and allowed Winky to putter about before she took her post at his door. He was growing more dependent on her affection every day, but if his time were really so short, there was no point worrying about it. He may as well allow himself to enjoy her devotion.
Perhaps tonight I'll dream of the cottage with the fence again. Maybe Winky will be in it, too. After all, a house elf really deserves one of her own. The thought sent him to sleep in peace.
Harry PotterThey had just won over Hufflepuff that Saturday afternoon. The other team was a lot stronger this year. "You'll just have to ask McMillan to go off in a maze with you," Seamus joked. "Worked for Diggory…"
"That's not funny!" Harry sputtered. He was uncomfortably aware how protective the Ravenclaws this year were around Cho Chang. Luna had told him about the wager in the Betting Book when he'd asked her about it. He'd never do anything to harm her! Of course, that wouldn't stop the twins, something inside told him. He remembered what Remus had told him about Montague. Fred and George wouldn't hurt someone as pretty as she is, he thought. Montague must have done something they didn't say anything about. He knew how stupid that sounded as soon as the idea came to his mind. Blaming the Snakes for everything was still popular.
He was glad to see Lupin approach the team. The DADA professor really knew his Quidditch strategies, and didn't mind passing them along. The team was glad to see Remus as well. Seamus spoke up again. "Heard you were helping out the Slytherin team last night at their practice," he said. "Come on, now, that can't be true."
"It's none of your business, Mr. Finnigan," Lupin said quietly.
Ron said, "Look, Seamus, we're lucky they haven't hired an outside coach already."
"But that's against the rules!" Ginny said, now listening in.
"No, it isn't," her older brother replied. "I asked Madam Hooch. They're playing so differently this year I wondered about it. They haven't lost as many points to fouls this year as we have, so pack it in about the Snakes. It's too bad that other Moody isn't here to turn Malfoy into a ferret again, but we'll just have to live with it."
Ron was being sensible this year, Harry noticed. Being captain and being out from under the shadow of his brothers had helped a lot, probably.
Remus cleared his throat. "Actually, I want to see you, Harry, as soon as you shower and dress. There's something interesting I want to you to watch."
The team went quiet, and Harry nodded. "I'll be out in just a bit."
Lupin nodded back, then looked at everyone. "Good flying today," he said. "Hufflepuff is more aggressive this year than they used to be, and you had to work to win. You've earned your celebration today."
Nobody could disagree with that, of course, and shuffled off towards the changing rooms. Harry quickly showered and dressed, then begged off the after-game stuff. He followed the Dark Arts professor out to the Forbidden Forest. Shacklebolt was there in the clearing, too. Right! The two of them must be dueling Snape today.
Where was he? Harry glanced around, as did the others.
The question was answered when a fiery bolt came out of nowhere, striking a tree near Lupin and the dark-skinned Auror, which was swiftly followed by two more. Harry left the clearing and tried to find a safe place to watch from. Kingsley and Remus dodged and brought up shielding spells. Lupin sent out a charm to find out where Snape was, though Harry already thought he knew, while Shacklebolt bracketed the space where the first spell had come from with several Incendios.
Everybody was surprised when the next attack came from above. Harry caught sight of a black cloak flapping as the Potions Master maneuvered his broom behind a large tree. Shacklebolt was occupied putting a small fire on his left shoe out, while Remus drew up a portable magical shield which he could hold like a real one against more shots.
Harry noticed a shadow by a different tree he was fairly sure hadn't been there before, and sent a flash of light to illuminate it. He ducked as a curse came his way which sent a shower of splinters close to his back from the ricochet. Remus had to move fast when an overhanging branch almost fell on top of him. Then Shacklebolt was blinded when a curse he ducked threw a bunch of dirt and leaves into his face.
Remus went on the offensive. He chanted a spell which formed a glowing rope out of nowhere in a loop the werewolf began swinging out like he was a cowboy on the telly. He suddenly let it loose into some scrub where it passed through a tall tree and apparently caught the Potions Master, judging by the bad language Harry heard.
The rope turned into a serpent, and Remus hastily let go before its mouth could bite his hand. Meanwhile, Shacklebolt was circling around on foot and let loose a couple of spells, only to dive to the ground as they rebounded. Lupin sent off a few more Incendios in the general direction of the forest over the Auror's head, and gritted his teeth as they appeared to have no effect. Harry wished he'd brought his broom. I should have remembered he was the referee for one of the Quidditch games my first year, he thought. I told Kingsley about flying and dueling when I left the Dursleys this year. Who would have thought Snape would be the one to use the idea? I should have said something to Remus, too.
He glanced up at the sky. "Up there!" he shouted. The werewolf barely blocked another attack from the again-airborne Snape. Then he sent a curse, not at the Potions Master, but at the broom. Snape began falling from the sky, though not from very high up. "Madam Hooch will kill me if I ruin this one!" the Potions Master said, and quickly sent out a Cushioning Charm before hitting the ground.
"Duel over?" Remus inquired sweetly.
"Yes," the other teacher said with a snarl. Snape put away his wand, and so did the others. Harry stuck his back in his usual robe pocket.
"Well, wasn't that a surprise!" Kingsley said with an admiring look. "When did you learn how to fly like that?"
"I am forced by certain Ministry regulations to be outside on a daily basis," Snape said, apparently ignoring Harry for now. "The coach pointed out how useful it would be if I could fly without downing a gallon of Calming Potion. I still don't like it high, but flying in the trees isn't that bad. I must admit, seeing your shocked faces was all the reward I could ask for."
"You still need to work on countering broom hexes," Lupin said. "I can help with that."
The dark Slytherin nodded. "This tactic will work once or twice as a surprise, but after that anyone else will be prepared with the right defenses."
"Maybe it only needs to work once or twice," Harry said. He wondered if Snape had the same problem Hermione did with heights. Maybe I need to work on more low-level stuff myself, he thought, knowing he normally disliked playing tag with obstacles.
"Ah, yes, Mr. Potter. What did you learn from this little exercise?" Snape's voice wasn't as harsh as usual, but still stung.
"Do the unexpected. Nobody thought you'd be on a broom. Professor Lupin was surprised when his rope turned into a snake, too. I bet you were surprised when that rope came through the tree, though." Harry thought for a moment. "And a couple of other things. Get in the first spell if you can, and always keep moving." He would have been dead in the graveyard after touching the Goblet if he hadn't.
"Better than I thought. Anything else?" The frosty voice thawed a little.
"Yes. If two people know how to fight together, or three for that matter, it's really hard for just one to beat them." If all the DE's had ganged up on him at once, either at the cemetery or at the Department of Magic, he would be dead. "And…and overconfidence can kill people, or their friends."
"Not bad." Snape looked rather surprised, actually.
"And you made a mistake." Harry gulped.
"Oh, really?" The Potions Master narrowed his eyes.
"You should have attacked me more, or at least made sure I couldn't help."
Snape raised his eyebrows, then looked at Remus. "Lupin, you were right. He does have a few brain cells functioning after being hit by all those Bludgers."
Remus just looked smug. Then Harry turned around as he heard a small pop, as if someone had Apparated.
Winky stood there, holding a flask. "Time to drink this, Master Potions Master."
Snape grimaced and took it. "Now she can't harass us in person, Madam Umbridge attempts to poison me from afar. Lupin, you didn't miss much not teaching here last year." He made a face as he drank from the flask, then handed it back to Winky, who disappeared.
"I heard you were on some sort of regimen for potions overload," Shacklebolt said.
"Unless I pass certain physical tests, I'm stuck with it," the Slytherin said. "Fortunately, these potions come from the Swiss themselves, so I can assume they haven't been meddled with, but they're still…not pleasant."
Lupin looked down at the ground. "You should see the minister's plans for werewolves and other nonhuman creatures."
"Oh, please. Not even that will cheer me up today."
Harry thought Remus ought to be insulted by the implication, but the DADA teacher only smiled. "I suppose we'd best let you return to Hogwarts, then."
"Yes. At least there I can throw up in peace." The Potions Master went back on his broom and headed back towards the school.
Harry wondered if Snape were joking. The tall teacher's color had turned more sallow than usual after he'd drunk the potion, and his broom wobbled a bit as he flew away. "Is it a good idea to have him duel when he's sick like this?"
"I asked about that. He said the Dark Lord or the other Death Eaters won't care." Remus looked thoughtful. "As you can see, it hasn't slowed him down much."
Shacklebolt nodded. "During a real fight, he'd probably bring out some Unforgivables. Given what kind of fight it's likely to be, I wouldn't grudge him anything he can use to protect himself. Moody and I go round and round on that one. It's been years since Moody was up against the kind of odds Snape has to face all the time. Besides, I can always win the argument by asking Mad-Eye what he'd do to Barty boy if the Dementors hadn't Kissed him first."
They walked back to the school. Harry discussed his ideas about flying and dueling at the same time, and wanted to know how to protect his broom against the hex that had brought down Snape. He even mentioned Hermione's idea about massed broom warfare. He enjoyed being treated like an adult.
Then he realized something. Dumbledore must have told them how much progress I've made in Occlumency, now that they're telling me things. Sirius died because I wouldn't listen to Snape about what he was trying to teach me. Now he was thinking about it, and not just being angry all the time, it made sense. It's like my fourth year when Skeeter was listening in on everything, or the girl who squealed on us about Dumbledore's Army. Why should they trust me if everything they say goes straight to Voldemort?
He waved to Kingsley as the Auror took off on his broom near the edge of the Forest, and finished walking to the school with Lupin. Harry went up to the Common Room, surprisingly empty for a Saturday, and sat down by the fire.
Maybe the potions were helping Snape in some ways, even as they made him sick in others. I have to realize people do change, he thought. I never thought it would be Snape who would think of dueling on a broom. He is different this year. Maybe that means I have to learn how to change, too. I still wonder what I missed last week. But he's right. The DE's won't care if someone has the flu or something when they attack. We have to be ready anyway.
It felt odd to just sit down and be quiet. He hadn't had much of that since the start of school. I've been doing homework, or taking lessons, or flying, or with my friends, or even just looking inside the Pensieve. He decided to practice one of the drills the Headmaster had shown him. This one was a bit new, so he wasn't sure if he would do it right, but he'd been told it might work when hiding in a memory didn't. It was called the House of Memory, he thought.
Harry closed his eyes and saw the Dursley house in his mind. He walked up to the front door and went inside. There. The wards put up when he'd been left there now kept him safe. But if they're based on blood, Voldemort has some of mine. Can he go through them now? He'd have to ask Dumbledore about that tomorrow, he supposed. Harry mentally walked into the kitchen, noticed how clean it was, how clean it always was, and pretended he was fixing breakfast for the three sitting at the dining room table. Some day I'll do it for Mrs. Weasley, he thought happily. Won't she be surprised I already know how to cook!
Then he served himself a hearty meal as well, the way he'd been allowed to last summer. He finished, did the clearing up, and set the dishes to soak a bit while the others went off—Uncle Vernon to work, Dudley to his friends, and Aunt Petunia to some volunteer thing.
The house was whole, and it was his, with everyone else gone. Yet there was one place inside the bungalow that was safest of all. Inside his mind, Harry opened the cupboard under the stairs. Since he was allowed to fix it up any way he liked now, it had a bright light with a pull chain, a real bed, and a chair. He supposed the small telly over in one corner and the tiny refrigerator was a bit much, but it was his cupboard and could have what he liked inside it. In fact, the place was larger than the outside now. He'd even added an annex with a cramped loo inside, accessible only through a hidden panel.
Harry smiled to himself as he closed the bolt, now on the inside of the door, which was set flush so no light could exit. Try to find me now, O mighty Dark Lord…
Someone coughed, and he opened his eyes. "Ron!" he said, only partially pleased at being interrupted.
"Team homework down in the Great Hall, mate," his friend said. "And…if you can, tell us about that duel?"
"Of course," Harry said. Funny how you appreciated others more when things were steadier inside. "I'll fetch my books. Hermione says we're behind the track in Potions, and she's probably right. Snape isn't on the warpath so much this year, I'd like to keep him that way!"
If the Potions Master could change, so could he.
