Hello everyone! Long time no see and once again I´m late (by a month!) HOWEVER there´s a good side to it this time around (please bear with me).
Iit turns out that I had trouble finding time to actually sit and write, so I only really got this chapter going by late April. Unfortunately I couldn´t write it in time to fit my self-imposed one-chapter-a-month rule. But I had a sudden creativity burst and wound up writing not one but TWO chapters between the last week of April adn first week of May.
You know what that means, right? Yes, I have TWO fully written chapters, both ready for upload.
I´m uploading April´s chapter now, and the May chapter next Friday (May 11th). I briefly considered uploading both chapters as a single one, but it made for an excessively long and overwhelming read. So I´ll post one today, give everybody some time to read it, then I´ll upload the next. That means May is a double update month. Hoepfull this can make up for all the time it took me to update.
Small warning before you go in: this chapter briefly goes into NSFW territory again, and the rating for this story will be raised accordingly as it progresses (but I´m sure you´ve figured that out by now)
(PS: Yes, I´m getting yourfeedback on spelling and grammar mistakes but as you can tell, I´m having a hard time keeping up with this story, so whenever I have time and energy I usually devote it to writing instead of editing past chapters. The mistakes will be addresssed as soon s I can. Thank you, anyway! :) )
Ok, now that we go this out of the way, enjoy this chapter and I´ll see you next Friday with a new one!
...
December 31st
Severus´ breath caught on his throat at the realization that she was there. In his room. In his bed.
He didn´t have to see her in the dark to know it was her. He knew her scent by now, he knew the way the lavender mingled with her skin to create something unique, something all hers. It was a fragrance he could pick out from any other scent. Severus felt the mattress cave under her weight and that scent overwhelmed him. He raised his hands, groping at the dark, till he found skin. No clothes, just smooth, warm skin. He palmed at her sides, finding her waist, shaky fingers sliding down the generous arch of her arse, grabbing at that curve where it met the thickness of the thighs straddling him. Severus felt her breath on his lips followed by the caress of laughter and a kiss. A long, lingering, overpowering kiss.
Severus didn´t know which one of them turned the side table light on, but he was glad of it. In the yellowish light he could see her face, golden brown eyes glowing liquid gold, just like they did in that morning at the top of the mill, red lipstick smudged over her lips. There was something on her face, the glint of mischief of a cat as it´s about to knock a fragile object from the table just to watch it shatter. Severus felt a twinge of satisfaction in knowing himself her plaything, in how much he ached to get shattered.
"Missed me?" he purred, her voice s dark thick and sweet as warm caramel poured on his tongue.
Severus didn´t answer. He simply grabbed her by the arse, roughly pulling her down onto his body, pushing his crotch up against her so she could feel just how much he missed her. With an impish grin she ran her lips against the ragged scars on his neck and jaw, her hips rolling into him, slow, pressing down, grinding on his pelvis, drawing strangled, elated sighs from his mouth.
Reality roughly pulled him back with the loud ring of the alarm clock announcing 6am.
Severus found himselfsweating, covers and clothes trapping his body. Still half asleep, he kicked the covers off and clumsily peeled off his nightshirt, forcing his eyes shut, desperately trying to cling to the last traces of that dream before it was completely gone. The cool morning breeze crept into the bedroom, painfully licking at his overheated skin, making him all the more aware of the tension in his muscles and nerves.
How many times had he done this, he wonders, and shaky hands pushed his underwear down, fingers wrapping around himself, stroking erratically towards a desperate release. The image of Evelyn had started creeping into his dreams scarcely a couple weeks after they met. He didn´t think much of it then. He had been isolated from nearly all human contact for months, and she had been the first person to show any interest in interacting with him in a rather long time. And she was beautiful. Sexual release is a biological need, he´d tell himself. His brain just drifted to the nearest attractive woman it could think of when his body acted up on him. It was awkward and embarrassing, but ultimately it meant nothing.
Then it came a point where it wouldn´t be just dreams. He would intentionally evoke her to get himself off. He´d intentionally picture her, try to imagine her body under the clothes, imagine how she sounded when pleasure overcame her, her face when she climaxed. Then there was that bloody Christmas Eve, and now he knew. He knew the taste of her mouth, the sound of her moans, the way her eyes fluttered under heavy eyelids when she got aroused, the exact shade of rose her skin flushed over the faint sheen of freckles, the precise shape and feel of her body. And now his entire body craved it, like it had just been exposed to a drug for the first time and needed a bigger dosage. Severus felt like a starving man denied entrance to a feast he could smell from the street outside.
"Fuck" he cursed as the jolt of pent up energy washed over him, his body finally relaxing in the afterglow of his climax.
6am. Why the hell had he set the alarm for 6am?
Oh, yes. That was the time she´d be waking up. It was the last day of the year and he had promised her he´d call earlier in the day. Something about a party her mother was having that night and she´d would be busy helping...
…
"Hey, love..." she slurred, and Severus heard a faint yawn on the other side of the line.
"Did I wake you up?"
"Not really. I´ve been awake for a moment. But you sound wide awake for 6 in the morning. Did you sleep well?"
"Quite."
"Did you dream about me?"
"I..." his voice trailed off as he was taken aback by the bluntness of the question
"You know you can tell me those things. In fact you should. I dream about you most nights too, you know?"
" 'Most' nights?"
"Well sometimes it´s Daniel Day-Lewis"
"Who?"
"Begorra, Severus, you need to go to cinema more often. We´ll take care of it when I come back, don´t worry."
"Well, what are you up to?
"Just enjoying my bed before mam drags me out of it to start the preparations for tonight´s dinner"
"She´s really throwing another party?"
"It´s just a little dinner party to celebrate New Years. Alice´s birthday is on the second of January, so she´ll keep today small. I told her we should skip New Year´s, so we could focus on Alice´s party, but mam will use any excuse to organise a soirée."
"Well, that´s where you get it then."
"I guess" she laughed and he tried not to picture her stretching lazily on her bed "By the way, not that I´m complaining, and I´m not at all complaining, but isn´t it a little early for you? I know I asked you to call me in the morning but you didn´t have to leave the house before 6, it must be frightfully cold outside."
"I´m home, actually."
"You finally got a phone?" she almost shrieked
"Yes." he sighed, recalling the pain it had been to have the bloody thing installed "I told you I would, didn´t I?"
"And you´re a man of your word. This is grand, now you can call me before bed so I can give you something more interesting to entertain yourself than just these dreams are those you´re having."
"How do you know what kind dreams I´m having?"
"Well if they´re anything like mine..." he could hear her voice drop a couple octaves and get throaty.
"Bloody hell, woman..."
"Has anybody ever told you you sound quite sexy when you´re bothered?"
"You´re getting ideas, aren´t you?"
"Yes, and I´m keeping notes on them for when I come back."
…...
Severus put down the phone and glanced at his desk, on top of which lay the keys to Evelyn´s house. She had been gone for a little under a week, and he still hadn´t been over there to check the attic. He had the intention several times, but as soon as he headed to the door, the will left him. A month and a half prior it had been easy to sneak into her house while she was away, at work. He and Minerva had cleaned her attic of all the dark magic artefacts, a process which involved going in and out several times with no regard whatsoever as to the ethics of doing what amounted to breaking into a muggle´s private property to retrieve objects that technically belonged to her family. Why did the idea bother him so much now?
Because, he concluded, she wasn´t just any muggle now. And because everything inside that house had suddenly become awfully personal for him. Severus knew Evelyn wouldn´t mind if he went in, in fact she had left him a copy of the keys with the suggestion that he watched the New Year´s fireworks on her television if he didn´t have anywhere to go for the night. She probably wanted him to see that bloody inscription and give some, hopefully reassuring, input. So his discomfort had nothing to do about her authorizing his entry or not. It was probably that, while he was far from being just an intruder now, he was still a long way from being fully part of that small world she had build for herself in the house next door. Maybe that was the thing that bothered him. However, regardless of his personal feelings, he had to go.
…
"Mam...?"
Her mother hadn´t gone up to call her. Maybe she was letting her sleep in, Evelyn thought, but that wasn´t very much like her. Since Evelyn had arrived she noticed her mother had been keeping herself busy, conjuring dinners and parties out of thin air in an obvious attempt to distract herself. It had been the first Christmas after Evelyn´s father´s passing, and today it would be the first New Year´s Eve. The fact that her mother seemed to be taking it at stride had reassured her for a while, but now she was starting to worry that things were not as well as they seemed. Evelyn finally found her sitting in her room, on her favourite powder blue armchair, the one right next to the small altar she kept with a Bible, the sacred heart and images of numerous saints, among which St. George, St. Paul, St, Brigid and St. Teresa of Avila were shown prominently.
"Evelyn, you should get some more rest. We´ll be up late tonight."
"I know, but I was wondering if you need help with anything." Evelyn came closer, noticing her mother was knitting. "Is that...?"
"It´s almost finished." Sophia smiled, showing her a moss green Aran jumper with the intricate pattern of upright Vs and inverted Vs flanked by chained knots typical of the Byrnes. It was the pattern the Black family wore. Grandpa Marius was an Englishman, so he couldn´t trace his roots back to any of the traditional Irish clans, but grandma Liz was a Byrne, so he simply adopted the Byrne´s Aran jumper pattern. Just like he had adopted a whole new Irish identity when he married her, thus erasing his English past so well that even now Evelyn had trouble piecing it together.
"You decided to finish it?" When Evelyn´s father passed away last February, a couple weeks short of his birthday, that jumper was nearly finished. It was a gift intended to replace an old favourite, which was worn from wear. Sophia had simply abandoned it inside a drawer, neither finishing nor unravelling the piece.
"It´s not good to leave things unfinished. Unfinished things can keep you from moving forward. And I suppose I have to let go of this. Is not like he´s ever going to wear it."
"What are you doing with it once it´s finished?"
"I´ll give it to somebody who will wear it, of course. In fact, I believe I have a good candidate for it."
"Who?" Evelyn smiled, mentally listing all male relatives and friends who could inherit the jumper.
"That´s neighbour of yours, what´s his name?"
"Severus? You´re giving it to Severus?"
"The man saved your life, as your mother the least I can do is give him a lousy jumper. You think it will fit him?"
"I think so, yes..." she nodded, muffling a little giggle with her hand.
"What are you laughing at?"
"I just remembered green happens to be one of his favourite colours. In fact is the only colour he wears aside from black."
"All the better then. Get me the yarn and I can make a black one if you want. Now, shall we go to the kitchen? We have an awful lot of things to do"
…..
Exactly as Evelyn had described. The Latin inscription surrounding a rudimentary Dark Mark was indeed engraved on the floorboards of her attic, and Severus wondered how on Earth both he and Minerva could have missed it. Maybe they just hadn´t bothered to look down at the floor as they moved all the books and paraphernalia out, working in semi-darkness and pressed for time. He pulled a piece of paper from his back pocket and a chunk of drawing charcoal he fortunately happened to have laying around and got to work. Laying the paper on top of the inscription he carefully rubbed the charcoal over it so the image was transferred. Under the light of his wand he compared the original to his improvised copy, deeming them similar enough. Having done that he exited the attic and went down the stairs.
Severus knew Evelyn had turned one of the bedrooms into an office that doubled as a guest room, and he suspected that, if she had any papers or documents that could provide him with more clues about the house, they´d be there. The two bedrooms were side by side, both closed. Opening the first door, Severus realized it was her bedroom, not the office. He felt tempted to step inside. Her presence was everywhere. In the containers of make-up and perfume neatly lined up on the rosewood vanity, in the art posters on the walls, the the lace curtains, the crisp bedsheets and the large, round plush cat bed on the richly decorated oriental rug. He sought refuge on the next door, only to be enveloped on that aura once more. Her office was no less full of Evelyn than her bedroom. The same choice of pillows and covers on a couch that doubled as a bed in the event of over night visitors, the same Mucha, Beardley and Klimt reproductions covering the walls, the same elegantly calculated chaos of books, papers and trinkets.
Severus approached the desk taking a peek at her recent work. Large, flowery handwriting filled notebooks, printed articles had entire paragraphs highlighted in bright pink or yellow and multicoloured bookmarkerspoked from the pages of reference books. The only thing that seemed to break the harmony of that desk was an ungainly, boxy computer, the unsightly object muggles used for work and study, which had recently become a more and more common household staple.
Over the desk, on the wall, a large cork panel overflowed with photos. Severus smiled to himself once he realized those weren´t just any photos. They were milestones on a wall full of accomplishments. Evelyn in her graduation gown, family members surrounding her. Evelyn as a child wearing green Irish step dancing garments. Then a little older, early into her teens with the first traits of womanhood accentuated by a red dress with tiers upon tiers of skirts, marking the time she switched from Irish dance to Flamenco. It was a choice her her mother had disapproved of, but turned out to become a life long passion of hers. A photo of her at the beach, the first time she had travelled abroad by herself, to the Côte D´Azur, and the white swimsuit she had bought for that occasion. Behind her parents back, of course, as it was too revealing for a good Irish Catholic lass of 18. Photos of her with friends and family at parties, graduations, birthdays, trips. All the happy stories she had told him in their lazy evenings together. Something tugged inside his chest as he wondered, against his better judgement, if his own photo would one day end up on that wall.
Enough of that, he thought, springing into action. Luckily for him, the chaos on that desk was only apparent. Under the papers and books he found neatly labelled folders, with personal documents, research papers, letters and everything else scrupulously organised and tagged. Carefully clearing a space on the desk upon which he could work, Severus sat down, got a blank piece of paper and a pen and started to go over the documents, sketching a tentative history of that house.
The house deed that contained Marius Black Senior´s name dated from 1928. At around the same time he had been exiled, give or take a year. Of course, supremacist ideas were around for long before that. All such literature Severus and Minerva had recovered from the attic was late XIXth to early Xxth century. None of it later than 1928. He had assumed the house had been closed since then, serving as a mere deposit for material that could be seen as incriminating. The Dark Mark in the attic had his mind about that.
Tom Riddle was born in 1926. He started attending Hogwarts in 1938 and by the 1940s he already had a small following of fellow students who would later become the first Death Eaters. In their early stages the group had called itself "Knights of Walpurgis". Which told Severus that inscription had been made at around that time or immediately afterwards. It did look like the sort of simple graffiti a group of self-aggrandizing teenagers flirting with dark magic would scribble. So, that meant Riddle, or someone in his little club had been in this house, and maybe conducted meetings. Which made him wonder.. How many times? For how long? Were they still meeting here while the Snapes lived right next door?
The screeching of the telephone interrupted his thoughts. LHe couldn´t pick up, so he´d have to wait until whoever was calling to simply gave up. He had, however, forgotten about the existence of that handy muggle invention called answering machine, so the sound of Evelyn´s voice caught him off guard. An yet it wasn´t nearly as surprising as the voice he heard after the beep.
"Hello, Lyn? It´s me...Richard. I...I wasn´t sure you´d be spending the holidays in England or back home, so...I called you on Christmas but you didn´t..."
Whatever words that came after that man´s name barely registered on Severus brain. On an impulse he got up and picked up the phone, without a single clue as to what he could have to say to this man, or why he should bother to say anything at all.
"Hello."
There was silence on the other side of the line for a moment.
"Pardon me, but...who..."
"I´m afraid Evelyn won´t be able to talk, Mr. Keenan."
"How do you..." another long pause. Severus savored the shock in his voice like he would an expensive, fine wine "I see..."
"Would you like to leave a message?"
"No, no thank you. Just, let Evelyn know I called."
"Of course. Good day and..." he paused, before striking the coup de grace "good luck with the new book. We heard you´ve been struggling with it."
….
"A glass of champagne for your thoughts," Fin came into the office holding two glasses and clinked them to get her attention.
Evelyn had retreated into her father´s old office sometime after the last guests arrived. Sophia´s idea of a small dinner party would make some wedding receptions look humble. The family had showed up en masse, so had all the ladies from church as well as the people from the kennel club, then there were the family friends, neighbours and whoever else happened to be passing by the street, really. She usually had as much fun with these parties as her mother did. The excitement of preparing, cooking, then talking to everyone, listening to the same old jokes that somehow became funnier the more they were told, catching up with the news. Even the clean up afterwards was fun. Evelyn and Caitlin would usually do it for early the next morning, blasting music and dancing with the mops as Sophia got her well deserved rest, basking on the laurels of another well planned event. When their father was alive he´d take her out to have breakfast somewhere as they got the house back to pristine condition and rewarded themselves with whatever leftovers were there from the evening.
But today she wasn´t feeling all that enthusiastic.
"I´m not sure my thoughts are worth that much." she smiled as he sat across from her handing her the glass.
"Don´t tell Lewis that then, the man has been investing good money to have your thoughts printed. He´s even selling them to the Russians now. You know the Russians don´t care for anything cheap. But why are you hidding here? The old folks out there are about to bust into rave mode, love, you´re missing on all the fun. I´m sure somebody just broke out the dominoes."
"I just wanted to sit down for a moment. Breaking in new heels, my feet are killing me."
"The nerve endings on your feet went completely numb somewhere between 1988 and 1991, Lyn. Try another one."
"Ok, fine...It´s my mother."
"She seems fine."
"She always does. That´s what worries me. She finished dad´s jumper..."
"She did? That´s good, then. She had that thing sitting there for months."
"She wants me to give it to Severus."
"Oh...You told her you two are..?"
"No. Because we aren´t. Strictly speaking."
"I´d worry about sorting that out then. Your mother will be fine."
….
Anya knocked on his office door and entered without even waiting for an answer.
"You´re making a habit out of this, Anya." Dmitri smiled, not truly bothered. Anya knew exactly how much liberty she had within the household, and his office was never off limits for her. Chiding her was more of an affectionate formality than anything else. They had, after all, known each other since childhood. She was probably the only person in the world who didn´t need to bother knocking. Not even Arseniy had that much freedom.
"We have news from France and Britain." she got two envelopes from her folder and slid them across the desk in his direction. "The test results on the stones is back as well"
"On to the news first, then we´ll look into the stones."
"Selwyn reported that Claire hasn´t been in the house for days now. She´s supposed to be visiting relatives, but he doesn´t believe it. Draco just arrived in France and reported the exact same to the Ministry. Our liaison has informed us that Shacklebolt has deployed a lone agent to Ireland. Doolin to be more precise."
"So, we´re back to Evelyn Black. She´s in Doolin I assume."
"Yes. I´ve checked with Liverpool and she boarded a ferry headed to Dublin on December 27th . Certainly she went from there to Doolin."
"How about the agent they sent to Doolin, do we have any information on him or her?"
"I have a copy of his file." she got a sheet of paper from the folder and handed it to him. The photo of a young middle-eastern-looking man with blue-green eyes and a dashing smile graced the corner of the document. "Virgil Amir Shafiq. Pureblood. Born in June 25th, 1970. Attended Hogwarts from 1981 to 1988. Sorted into Slytherin, graduated with honors with some of the highest marks of his house, particularly in Defense against the Dark Arts. Recruited to the aurors office in 1989. Currently working in the intelligence and training sectors."
"Only the best for Snape I see. It wouldn´t surprise me if he picked this lad personally. He´s got Shacklebolt wrapped around his finger."
"Are we doing anything about this?"
"The Ministry seems to have this under control butwe´ll need to monitor regardless. From afar."
"Should we intervene?"
"If, and only if, it seems like Mr. Shafiq fails his assignment. If not, just observe and report back. Now, on the artefacts recovered from Helena Ravenclaw´s grave."
"We´ve got the full report on the stones. The rosary is made of lapis lazuli. The pendant also had lapis lazuli as well as jade. According to my research lapis lazuli only started to be imported in bulk to Europe in the end of the Middle Ages, before which it was common in the Indus Valley and Northern Africa. At the time it was mined mostly inthe Badakhshan province in North-East Afghanistan. Jade, however, was more common. The variety we found on Helena´s body was nephrite jade, which has been found in Europe as far back as the Neolithic Period."
"Let´s focus on the lapis lazuli then. If it hadn´t been introduced into Europe at the time Helena was alive, how did she have a rosary made with it?"
"My guess? Salazar Slytherin. He was the one took care of her burial, he may have put the jewellery on her body as part of whatever religious rituals were conducted. That would explain why she had a rosary made with a stone she wouldn´t have easily come across while alive, and it would also explain the ouroboros pendant containing the same stone. The Snake was Salazar´s personal emblem. Speaking of which, I did some research of my own into the mounting and chain of the pendant. Gold as we thought. But the specific technique and embossing look more distinctively Iberian."
"Iberian?"
"Caliphate of Cordoba, Ummayad dynasty to be exact. The Ummayads were in decline at the time Helena died and about to be replaced by the Hammudids, following the Fitna of al-Andalus, but the pendant could have been commissioned before. In any case, the Iberian provenance explains the stones. Even in times of crisis, commercial trade between Islamic Iberia and other regions such as the North of Africa and the Middle East was thriving. It wouldn´t be that difficult to obtain lapis lazuli, jade and other gems and precious metals, specially if one used the political unrest to their advantage. Which I´m sure is something Salazar Slytherin would gladly do."
"Well, then...If this pendant proves Salazar was in the Iberian Peninsula at the time...Then the dagger could be somewhere in Spain or Portugal."
"Exactly."
"Change of plans. Anya you will get me everything you possibly can in terms of documentation on the Caliphate of Córdoba between the time of Salazar Slytherin´s exile and the death of Helena Ravenclaw. I want to know what exactly was happening and what he could be doing there. We need to retrace his steps. Send Anatoly to Ireland to keep an eye on the situation with Evelyn Black. Pass him the same instructions I just gave you: do not intervene unless it seems like Virgil Shafiq won´t be able to handle his mission."
….
Virgil switched between channels absent-mindedly. It made little difference to him that all of them had either live broadcasts of fireworks somewhere in the world where it was already 1999 or just reruns of American sitcoms. He simply needed white noise. He finally settled on some random black and white film, turning the sound down to a whisper and reached for his notes. He had been keeping a log, but there wasn´t much to report. Shafiq was starting to think that aside from that brief interaction with Evelyn Black on the beach the other night, his mission would consist of slowly boring himself to death.
Nothing happening was obviously better than something bad happening, but still. Wandering about the streets of Doolin in different disguises, he had found some things to entertain himself, but the novelty wore off fast. Doolin was a charming village, but a small village nevertheless. There really wasn´t all that much to do. There were pubs with live music, and stores catering to tourists that were not numerous in Winter. The main attractions, however, were all outdoors: the Burren, the beaches, the cliffs and the ancient ruins scattered about the countryside. But with the foul weather the only ones brave enough to enjoy the great outdoors the hardy locals.
Hardy locals like Evelyn Black. Virgil couldn´t shake the image of that woman standing alone on the beach on a stormy night as if she was about to let herself be swallowed by the waves.
When he was given the assignment, Virgil didn´t think anything of her. It wasn´t part of his mission to have an opinion. All he knew was that he had to ensure the safety of a muggle who had a personal connection to Professor Snape. He waseager to prove himself worthy of his trust and that was it. Severus Snape had been one of his favourite teachers. Growing up, he looked up to him, and sought his approval. Other students often accused him of being a boot-licker, of sucking up to Snape because he was his head of house, or trying to get on his good graces so he´d be spared the Potions Master´s infamous outbursts. It was very much the opposite. Virgil actually appreciated Snape´s supposedly unsavoury attitude.
Virgil had never tasted the bitterness of struggle as a child. He was the youngest of three boys, born to a well-off family of purebloods. His parents were moderate Muslims which meant they were fairly liberal with their upbringing. Coming to Hogwarts in the wake of his two older brothers graduating with near perfect scores, Virgil had a metaphorical red carpet laid out in front of him. Every teacher assumed he´d excel in everything just like his brothers had, and only ever showed surprise when he didn´t perform any less than stelarly.
Every teacher except Snape.
The only thing Snape assumed about any student was that they´d be a failure. And it was up to them to prove him wrong. It was the first time Virgil was challenged. Snape had been a very young man then, only 21 years old and in his first year as a teacher. He hadn´t taught any of Virgil´s brothers, so he didn´t compare Virgil to anybody except Virgil himself, and with that he was never pleased, never satisfied. 'Fix your tie, Mr. Shafiq', 'watch the cauldron´s temperature, Mr. Shafiq', 'do it over, Mr. Shafiq'. Praise from other teachers was such a common occurrence it meant close to nothing to him, but Virgil could distinctively remember the first time he got a nod of approval on a potion brewed to perfection from Professor Snape and how much that had meant to him. "Well, done, Mr. Shafiq."
Finding out Severus Snape was alive and that he had personally requested Virgil to be in charge of the safety of a personal acquaintance of his had brought Virgil back to that day, to that "Well done" he had strived for months to get, when everyone else gave him praise too easily for him to care. So, of course, he asked no questions. Shacklebolt hadn´t disclosed the nature of the relationship between Snape and the muggle he was supposed to protect. Shafiq recalled him using the term "friend" and that was the extent of it. He didn´t think much of it when Snape himself gave him information about her. Even then he still didn´t bother contemplating who exactly was this woman. He simply followed her as she moved along roads and streets and went about her life. Just a woman like any other. Maybe better looking than average, but just another person in a world populated by billions. Just an assignment.
Something had changed when he had spoken to her. Only then did he seriously stop to contemplate what could possibly connect Professor Snape to her. He hated to be that person who immediately assumed there could only be a romantic or sexual connection between a man and a woman, but the more he gave it consideration the more Virgil believed that whatever there was between them it couldn´t be just 'friendship'. He wouldn´t have been assigned to protect her if she was just his friend, he should have suspected from the beginning.
Yet somehow that only became clear when he actually looked at her. Not from afar, not as a potential target, but up close. As she talked to him, hair swept by the salty sea wind. The idea that Professor Snape might be in love with anybody sounded bizarre to him, growing up under his strict and overbearing tutelage. But somehow, looking at her Virgil suddenly understood it.
…
"Happy New year, love." was the first thing she said when she picked up the phone. Severus smiled to himself.
"Happy New year, love. Your mother´s party is over?" he checked the clock on the mantel. Half past midnight. Maybe there were still guests left.
"It was hardly a party. But yes, it is. "
"How did it go?"
"Better than I expected, all things considered. My mother had fun."
"How about you? Did you have fun?"
" I don´t know. It was a bit, how do I put this? Bitter sweet. A lot of my father´s old friends were here. Telling stories and whatnot, so... I guess I deal better when I´m away."
"You´ve been away from home for months. Some nostalgia is natural. Give it time."
"You stayed home after all."
"Actually, I went to your house. To check that thing in the attic."
"Freaky isn´t it?"
"Yes. Honestly I can´t make any sense of it. But I wouldn´t worry if I was you"
"I´m not worried, I´m curious. Angela thinks the house is haunted, though."
"I didn´t run into any ghosts..except..."
"What...?"
"You ex...Richard. He called. To wish you a Happy New Year, I imagine."
"Seriously? I guess I´m going to have to change my number."
"I don´t think he´ll be calling again any time soon"
"Severus...Don´t tell me you were mean to him."
"Me? I would never."
"Right..."
"I´m not 'mean'"
"Indeed you´re not... you´re awful. It´s half your charm to be honest."
"Has anybody ever told you you have really poor taste in men?"
"I may have been told something to that effect before, yes. Butif I recall correctly we had planned to discuss more interesting things next time you called. "
"All the guests left?"
"Yes."
"Your mother?"
"Sound asleep."
"You´re in your room?"
"Yes, Severus." She laughed, that husky laugh of hers that that sent an electric current down his spine when he heard it from up close. "Would you like to know what I´m wearing too?"
"Sev."
"What?"
"Call me 'Sev'...We´ve reached that stage, no?"
"You never told me you had a nickname...Sev. I like it."
"Say it again, then."
"Sev." she said, the name rolling from her lips drenched with delight.
"And yes, since you´ve brought it up...What are you wearing?" he snickered, making himself comfortable.
"You feckin´ eejit." he hear her laugh again and felt like the year was probably off to a good start.
….
January, 1st.
"Mam, this is too much!" Evelyn rolled her eyes putting the last grocery bags on the kitchen table after getting them out of the trunk of Sophia´s car. "Ca made it very clear that they´d only invite a few of Alice´s friends from school and the cousins. " They had all agreed there was no point in having a big party right after Christmas and New Years. But now Evelyn realized they should have suspected it would spiral out of control the moment Sophia said she´d have to go all the to Supervalu market in Ennistymon, a full 15 minute drive away to buy supplies. On the first day of the year no less.
"I got some other things we need because I don´t feel like driving all the way to Ennistymon again any time soon"
"That´s the thing, we don´t have to 'drive all the way to Ennistymon', have you seen your pantry? And we have left overs from TWO dinner parties!"
"Evelyn do me a favour, dear? Get those bags over there and bring them to your grandmother? She is baking the cake so I got her the list of ingredients she asked me. Here take my car"
"Your car? I´ll get there faster on foot, thank you. I don´t even know how that old thing still moves"
"It moves just fine, but do whatever you want. Now out of my kitchen, I need to get this going."
"Mam, remember, it´s just a small birthday party."
"I know, and it´s also tomorrow. Now shoo..."
"Are you shooing me out of the house?" Evelyn let out amused, noticing from the corner of her eye that Alice was making her way in, curiously eyeing the bags like a kitten eyes brand new boxes.
"Yes! And take Alice with you, while you´re at it. I don´t want her snooping around and ruining any surprises."
"I´m not!" Alice protested.
"Come on, pet. Your sister will help grandma Sophia and we´re going to help grandma Liz"
…
"Can I go outside?" Alice asked, nose pressed against the window that overlooked the backyard.
"It´s cold out, love." Evelyn told her, putting away the groceries they had brought.
"Pleeease, I want to see if we have sparrows."
"I believe we do" Liz remarked "They must be fluffy now with their Winter plumage."
"Pleaaaaase..."
"Ok, fine" Evelyn relented "but just for a little bit. And take your coat."
"Thank you!" Alice hopped from the windowsill and ran past them, grabbing her coat from a chair on the way out.
"She´s excited for her birthday." Liz remarked as soon as Alice was out of earshot "It´s because you´re here."
"Whatever the reason, I´m glad. Last year was hard enough on these girls."
"On all of us, dear..."
"Speaking of unpleasant things, you think Sean is going to show up for her birthday? I meant to ask Cat, but honestly I don´t even know how to approach it..."
"Sean hasn´t been around lately. You know how he is, we can go months without seeing him."
"I know he´s her father, but I honestly prefer it this way. I´m sure he´d find a way to ruin everything if he showed up."
…
Nobody else knew about that hole in the backyard fence but Alice. She hadn´t even told Lizzie. Lizzie was just a baby, anyway, she´d tell everybody if she found out. Then Grandma Liz would have it fixed and Alice wouldn't´t be able to sneak out anymore. She had found it last November. It was great-grandpa´s birthday. Everybody was worried that Grandma Liz wouldn´t be doing well, because both great-grandpa and grandpa were dead now. Alice kept overhearing relatives talking about how she must have been so sad because her husband and her son were dead. She was sad, but the way people talked, it was like she´d die soon too. Alice didn´t believe she would, not any time soon. Great-grandpa and grandpa were dead, so surely nobody else would die for a while. It wouldn´t be too fair. So she didn´t worry as much as the adults did.
That day, while Lizzie was watching cartoons in the living room and her mum and grandma Liz were talking in the sewing room, Alice had got out through the kitchen door and found the hole in the fence. It lead into an empty lot. Grandma Liz lived in one of the last houses before the hills went into rocks by the sea, and from that empty lot behind her backyard you could see the ocean and even hear it, if you paid enough attention. There wasn´t anything in that vacant lot except for a tree. Alice remembered that in grandpa´s office there was a big book with drawings and photos of trees and leaves, so she got a leaf from the tree and asked grandma Sophia to help her find out which tree it was using the book.
Grandma Sophia told her it was a Hawthorn. Aunt Lyn once told her that in the old times people said Hawthorns were 'fairy trees', that is trees in which fairies secretly lived. So, back then, nobody would cut down those trees so they wouldn´t disturb the fairies. That was the reason you would, sometimes, see a lone three in the middle of a farmer´s field. That explained that tree. It had to be a fairy tree. So Alice had made it a habit of collecting pretty stones and gathering them at the base, just like aunt Lyn said people used to do in the past. She also got some Christmas ornaments and ice lolly sticks with which to make a fairy door. The teacher had taught them how to make fairy doors for garden decorations at school. When she made some for grandma Liz, she had also made one for the fairies.
Whenever she could, Alice would sneak out and see if she could catch a glimpse of a fairy. She even left them little bits of biscuits and fruit sometimes. The offerings were always gone when she came back, but she couldn´t be sure if it was fairies or just the birds. Today, once again, there was no sign of any fairy activity. Just a fluffy sparrow in her nest, who had probably eaten Alice´s last offering. With a sigh, she turned to sneak back in before they noticed she was out. Then she heard something.
A voice.
…
It wasn´t ideal. Evelyn Black was the target. But her niece was almost as good a replacement. Severus Snape wouldn´t allow a child to pay his debt, would he? Of course not. And if this child was related to his mistress, all the more reason for him to care. Very few things are as precious as a child. Which made them perfect bargaining chips. No risky moves would be considered if a child´s life was in danger. The life of a child is worth any price you put on it, no matter how high. This was almost better than getting her hands on Evelyn Black herself.
It would be easy enough Claire thought as she saw the little girl come out through a crack in the backyard fence. Luck had been on her side when she had decided to avoid the street leading up to the front of the house and go trough the vacant lots behind the houses. The open field made her vulnerable, but nothing a simple invisibility spell couldn´t handle.
That was it. She didn´t even have to do anything. As soon as she had made her way around the house, contemplating a plan, trying to come up with something, the girl came into her field of vision. A pretty little girl with long, wavy brown hair wearing a purple coat and yellow rain boots, making her way towards a solitary hawthorn.
All she had to do was call, hidden behind the veil of invisibility, and she had the girl´s full attention.
"Hello?" the child answered back, unsure, as if she didn´t believe her ears.
"What´s your name, love?" Claire asked, coming closer
"Alice..."
"What are you doing all alone out here, Alice?"
"I´m..." Alice´s brow furrowed, and she took a small step back in the direction of the house. "Who are you?"
...
"Me?" the invisible voice laughed softly, sweetly. "What do you think I am, Alice?"
Alice looked down at her little altar of stones, flowers and Christmas ornaments, doubting her own ears.
Could it be?
"...a fairy?"
"Almost..."
…
Something wasn´t right. That gut feeling hit Shafiq like thunder on a sunny day. Today he had decided to go out in his own regular appearance, and forgo any potion induced disguises. He had seen Evelyn Black go to her grandmother´s house, taking one of her nieces with her, but she didn´t seem to notice him as he passed her by, or maybe she wasn´t paying attention. He kept his distance, not feeling like it was important to follow her too closely. Visiting her grandmother was a mundane event, something she had done many times since he had been watching her. Shafiq had then decided to take a stroll to kill time. These visits sometimes dragged on for hours, and with a child in tow this one could last even longer.
Then it happened. Hardly had he reached Gus´Pub a little up the road, Virgil felt...something. It could be an impression, it could be intuition, it could very well be nothing at all, but he turned back on his own steps. There was an odd sort of atmospheric disturbance, ever so slight, almost undetectable, like the subtle switch in the air pressure before a storm. Shafiq reached into his pocket for his custom made sneakoskope, a silent version, modified for professional auror use. Shacklebold had had them commissioned so they could be used in ambushes, or by spies, who could have their cover easily blown by the traditional sneakoscope´s shrill alarm. This version, considerably more accurate version of the detector merely emitted a faint orange-hued glow when it picked up deception or danger nearby. And the closer he came to Elisabeth Black´s home, the brighter the sneakopscope glowed in his hand.
…
Alice blinked and rubbed her eyes like she did when she woke up in the morning and had to adjust back to reality. She wasn´t sure if she was dreaming or not as the sweet voice started to materialize into a person before her eyes.
The woman standing in front of her was tall, slender and beautiful. Her skin was very pale, and her hair was a dark shade of red, long and straight falling about her shoulders. She was wearing a long black cloak with fur trimming. Alice stared in awe as the woman smiled at her with ruby lips. She didn´t look like fairy, but more like a one of those expensive dolls they had in the shop windows for Christmas.
"I´m a witch. Have you ever met a witch before, darling?" The red-haired woman in black came closer and got to her knees, running her long fingers through Alice´s hair. Her nails were red, like her lips.
Alice shook her head and the woman reached inside her coat pulling something from within the folds of heavy fabric.
"This is a wand. Do you want to see it can do?"
With a smooth sweep of her hand and an incantation that could barely be heard, green light poured from the wand onto the ground surrounding Alice´s feet. Suddenly the frost-bitten, yellowed blades of grass began to glow and return to their original green and tiny white flowers sprouted from the frozen earth beneath.
…
"Alice! Come back inside!" Evelyn called out from the kitchen door before turning back to Liz "What the devil is she doing out there?"
"She must be playing in the back." Liz offered, focused on beating the eggs to stiff peaks for the cake. "She has been putting up some fairy doors there."
"Well, it´s too cold to be playing outside for so long and her mother is going to kill me if she comes down with a cold the day before her birthday. I´ll go get her."
