Severus was up early the day before students were expected to arrive. Having finally gotten his new classroom – and office – in order, he wanted to take the time before the start of term staff meeting to finish detailing his sixth and seventh year lesson plans. Emerging from his quarters, he was acutely aware of the lack of the Weird Sisters screeching out Do The Hippogriff. The quiet was peculiar after several days of rattling walls and over-nighters, thanks to the other occupant of the lowest level of the castle.
His heels clicked loudly on the flagstones as Snape noticed the Potions classroom door was wide open, as usual. Peering inside, he was met by a very different sight than the night before when he dashed by – in his attempt to mask his presence on his way to bed – when Eleanor was whirling about, running on Merlin knows how little sleep. Now, there was a blissful silence amid the softly bubbling cauldrons that gave him pause.
Snape soundlessly entered the room, noticing Eleanor slumped over with her head resting on the tabletop beside a cauldron filled with a roiling iridescent potion. She had been brewing for days, and it had been even longer since Severus allowed himself to be so close.
The raised humidity of the room had urged bits of her long hair to curl more tightly than the usual, flowing waves in his memory. The shadows beneath her closed eyes gave him pause in scolding her awake to renew a lecture on why witches shouldn't nap near burners and incomplete potions. Instead, he tucked an errant lock of red hair neatly over her shoulder, away from the reach of the flame. This was the last time he would get this close, Snape resolved as he studied her face more carefully, losing count of the faint freckles crossing the bridge of her nose. Perhaps she had smacked some sense into him that night. He let himself get too close, too comfortable, too… attached.
A chirping noise arrested his thoughts and sent his nerves ablaze. Eleanor stirred and perked up a bit, her head up with her eyes still stubbornly closed. Snape's eyes shot over to the small, golden cauldron erupting with a towering mound of iridescent foam. Felix Felicis. Seeing her remain dazed and half-asleep, Severus ventured a cautious glance at the small array of pre-measured ingredients set beside the golden cauldron. The little alarm chirped on – a charmed vial that rocked back and forth on the tabletop near the cauldron itself – until Severus took up the mound of powdered common rue and dumped it in its entirety into the roiling liquid.
The twit was going to get herself killed, dozing off while brewing such a thing. He shot a scowl back towards her bent figure as the blasted vial went silent and still. Eleanor's head was nodding little by little back to sleep until her nose was practically touching the tabletop. Then, smack! Her head slammed right into the table, jolting her awake.
Severus glided behind her, making for the door with footfalls as quiet as his dragonhide boots would allow. Ella was glancing all around her, gripping the offending table's edges to keep from keeling over. She was too dazed to notice the faintest chuckle as a shadow slipped from the room behind her.
The staff room was filled with witches and wizards in plainclothes, all grumbling with early afternoon drowsiness. There were bits of stiff conversation sprinkled here and there, while the rest resigned themselves to finding their usual seats. McGonagall, stiff-backed in the tall maroon armchair, surveyed the group with a sharp eye.
Ella slid into the gray chair positioned in the corner by the window – directly across from Snape's usual position on the equally worn blue chair – and waited for Dumbledore to make his appearance with heavy eyelids. She propped her head up with a bent wrist and felt her head nodding downward as Charity discussed her summer of meeting with new Muggle-born students and their parents with Poppy and Pomona, all crowding the narrow tartan sofa by the fireplace. It would be akin to a miracle if she survived the meeting without dozing off…
"Now then!"
Eleanor was alerted awake by the sound of Dumbledore clapping to begin the meeting, not even aware she had drifted off in the first place. Ella snapped upright, wiping the side of her mouth with the back of her hand hoping no one had noticed her brief lapse of attention. Bleary eyed, she gazed around the room to find the headmaster. Instead she noted a dour expression regarding her from across the room in a threadbare, blue chair. Of course, he noticed. Ella yawned behind the heel of her hand as Dumbledore welcomed them back as he did each year. He was taking great care to subdue his usually grand gestures in an effort, Eleanor guessed, to hide his soot-coloured hand.
The remaining staff had stuffed themselves into the tiny break room while she had been resting her eyes. Mrs. Norris was circling around the room on her usual patrol, occasionally stopping to rub against someone's legs or swat at a loose thread dangling from the old furniture. Mesmerized by the cat's deliberate path, Eleanor had only caught some of Dumbledore's speech, rejoining the conversation after Professor Binns – in his ancient, lazy drawl - inquired when the new teacher would be arriving.
"Ah yes," Dumbledore clapped his hands together. "Horace will be traveling on the Express with the pupils. We will all meet him at dinner. I'm sure he would be happy to chat afterward, Cuthbert."
There was a murmur of mixed impressions amongst the staff, filling the small room with a hum akin to a hive of bees. Combined with the warmth and surprising softness of the chair's cushions, the room seemed to be tempting at Ella to shut her eyes.
"Please take great care in preventing students from wandering into the Forest until we have the situation with the centaur clans resolved. I would advise no one to enter," Dumbledore drawled on.
Hagrid harrumphed loudly at that, floorboards moaning under his weight as he shifted in the back of the room. He wasn't the only one sour about that bit of news. Eleanor didn't do much to hide her disdain, but both she and Hagrid left Dumbledore unperturbed.
"I did want to touch on our guests for this year. The Auror Office has assured me that we will not find ourselves stepping on one another's toes," Dumbledore continued as Minerva's pursed lips tightened.
"You mean that sour looking bunch skulking about?" Madam Hooch interjected. She seemed as thrilled by their guests as Minerva.
"Ah, yes. The aurors have agreed to rotate in patrolling the grounds, inside and out. Our rounds will continue as usual, and Minerva will post the first month's schedule shortly. Ah, yes? Good. For now, the aurors will be officially stationed in Hogsmeade and are at our disposal should the need arise. They will relay news if there is an external threat to the school, therefore be vigilant. This year is likely to be the most trying in quite some time and I understand what a burden this can be. I have great faith in you all.
"Does anyone have any questions?"
Professor Babbling, tucked away neatly by the fireplace, held up her hand meekly, "Am I back in room 6A again?"
Several teachers grimaced as the group was unhappily reminded of the room changes made the previous year by Umbridge. Thinking Ancient Runes to be a rather "useless" subject, Eleanor knew Bathsheda's classes had been put in a broom closet sized room somewhere on the third floor shortly after the second sweep of "evaluations" that were made.
"Yes, Bathsheda. Argus can help move any items that are not already in place," Dumbledore replied genially before producing a roll of parchment. "Ah, and - before I forget - Minerva, here is the list of new first years for the sorting."
Eleanor sat back in her chair and sought out Snape, who had been listening with a bored expression in his usual armchair directly across from her. He hadn't spoken a word to Ella since she thanked him at the gates the day they arrived. Not even, as she had anticipated, to tell her to turn her music down which she was certain to have gotten his attention. Sinking lower into the chair, Ella came to the conclusion that her actions – or possibly her mere presence – had set him off so badly that he was unwilling to interact with her. Yet his actions during her stay betrayed that logic, at least in her mind.
I'm overthinking this.
Despite her staring intensely at his stiff figure, Snape had not glanced at her since his initial sneer of disapproval at the start of the meeting. Not once. His eyes were trained on Dumbledore, who was now discussing ordering new equipment with both Rolanda Hooch and Pomona Sprout.
"You know, you blink far less than a goblin."
Eleanor jumped as Timothy Tindall bent over her chair and hovered uncomfortably close. Cuthbert's assistant was a stringy fellow whose fashion sense, in Ella's opinion, was a visual disaster. He also never seemed to notice that personal space was still very much valued by most people. In this particular instance, he did not straighten up and move back to his previously held spot after arresting her attention, instead choosing to hover with his glasses slipping off his nose mere inches from Ella's face.
"Hm, I suppose not," he added after watching her another moment more. "For a while there, you were blinking less than 4 blinks per minute. That would be akin to a goblin's rate."
Ella's cheek twitched, "…Is that so?"
"Oh yes. It comes in handy during the minting process, I expect. Currency. There's no missing each serial number that is stamped, you see, which is why they are more adept at keeping track of it all."
Eleanor smiled despite feeling a bit lost in the conversation and hoped that it was enough to pacify Timothy into silence.
"You know the serial numbers designate the maker of the coin - the goblin, of course – contrary to what most people expect. That system has been in use since the thirteenth century."
Guess not. Merlin, save me.
"Ms. Burbage!" Timothy's voice jolted Eleanor back to reality. She wasn't entirely sure if his droning had effectively put her to sleep, or if she had simply forgotten the last few minutes….
"Ms. Burbage," he began again – Eleanor had realized the meeting had ended – while the woman addressed gave Tindall a very surprised stare. "Is it true the conversion rate of Galleons to pounds has changed recently?"
"Ah… Ah, yes. Yes, it has, but only slightly," she said quietly.
Merlin's beard, he was still going on about currency. Eleanor unfolded herself from the chair as the teachers began to migrate free from the gathering. Timothy was still addressing Charity, so the time was right to slip away. Snape was moving ahead of her, taking great care to avoid touching or bumping any of his colleagues. Sinestra's hat gave him a bit of a challenge when he squeezed through the doorway, and slowed him down enough for Eleanor to catch up.
"Oh, Severus," she said in a pleasant a voice as she could muster in her tired state. "I had a question to ask you about Felix Fel-…"
Snape gave her a look that effectively silenced her and she stopped cold in her tracks. There was such hatred wrapped up in his face, a sneer so profoundly disgusted with her presence that the words died in her throat. Shocked, she watched him turn away and disappear in the direction of his new office.
Tears had actually formed in the corners of her eyes, Ella realized as she stood there in the middle of the hall. It was then that Timothy Tindall decided to rekindle their conversation.
"So, I was wondering if you are interested in discussing the current political state over butterbeer," he said, completely oblivious to her hastily wiping her face on her sleeve. "Well, it doesn't have to be butterbeer per se, or even that topic…"
"I need to be going," Ella said quietly.
"You could just tell me what works with your schedule," he continued, keeping up with her with ease, "I mean, mine is pretty tight, but Professor Binns is fairly flexible with me taking an afternoon or so to gather my thoughts and all."
"Mr. Tindall," Ella stopped and gave him a hard look.
Timothy, however, failed to notice, "In fact, I'm pretty sure the last few times I've gone to Hogsmeade to pick up my favorite biscuits he didn't even notice-…"
"Mr. Tindall."
"Although he did mention that he was a bit distracted over the restructuring of the Goblin Wars segment for the fourth year curriculum so-…"
"TIMOTHY."
"Yes, Bristow?" he looked eagerly at her through the very thick lenses of his crooked glasses.
"I've left several burners on. I need to be going."
"Oh! Yes! Of course! We can chat about this later, of course. You have a good day, Bristow."
"And you, Tindall."
Eleanor retreated, shoving any guilt for her treatment of Timothy deep down. For now she was drowning in the image of Severus glaring daggers at her. The entire walk down to the dungeons seemed to take a century, especially with Peeves flooding the first floor with questionable looking water. She ignored it though, floating in a state of shock and self-loathing.
Perhaps he was in a bad mood. He didn't sleep well, after all. She had witnessed that. Perhaps he had no luck with the kitten plates and the reality of living with dozens of endlessly meowing wall ornaments was making him feel pretty wretched. No, no. Perhaps he was unhappy with the lesson plans he had made for his new classes.
No.
Eleanor clutched the stone wall for support. She knew why he was so mad. It was because she had actually slapped him in the face in his own house. She had the nerve to actually do that to him, after he let her in his house, after he took the time to help her heal from that embarrassingly traumatic event in his kitchen. After she knew from one of those accidentally revealed memories in that damn pensieve that he had dealt with his fair share of… arguing… as a child.
She felt sick.
"Shit," she hissed to herself. "Shit, shit, shit, shitty shit SHIT SHI-…"
Argus Filch happened to be at the foot of the stairs she had descended while reciting her one word tirade. His eyebrows his gone so high it gave the appearance of a returned hairline on his otherwise hairless brow. There was no hiding the surprise and embarrassment on her face.
"Ah… I uh…"
Filch merely shook his head and continued on his way, clutching a ratty old mop with Mrs. Norris trailing at his heels after the cat gave her a yellow eyed stare that seemed to shout "you've lost your marbles".
Eleanor rushed back to the safety and solitude of the potions classroom, slamming the wooden door behind her for good measure. The room smelled heavily of chives and the strange odors stemming from the cauldron of Amortentia that was beginning to take shape. As desperate as she was to simply crawl into her bed and sleep the horrible day away, she needed to finish brewing three remaining potions and bottle the two that she finished overnight. Working in silence, Ella's mind whirred with the events of the summer, sorting each piece of information into neat categories for her bedraggled head to memorize.
As soon as she set the cover over the top of the Felix Felicis potion, Ella collapsed into her chair. She was ready for a nap, beyond ready. The next step wouldn't be for hours, and the gleaming collection of bottles on Snape's old desk was a testament to the work she had managed to accomplish. She was nearly done. As her eyelids began to drop and her limbs relaxed, Eleanor became acutely aware of the burning sensation that had begun on her collarbone.
Bolting upright, thinking she had spilled one of the toxic ingredients on herself and missed her apron, she made for the sink and frantically started the tap. A fistful of water on the front of her shirt revealed the source of the sensation was not her skin bubbling under a layer of haphazardly smeared poison, but the locket that Dumbledore had given her some time ago. It had remained dormant and forgotten all this time.
Sighing in both relief and exasperation at her soaked t-shirt, she fished the chain off her neck and gazed down to see the tiny fox engraving was gone. Peering back with little bumps for eyes was a miniature bird – a phoenix – on the surface of the locket. Dumbledore hadn't instructed them on how to receive the messages sent. A number of unlocking and revealing charms did nothing to persuade it, and Ella broke the side of her thumbnail attempting to pry it open the muggle way.
"Oh for the love of Morgan," she hissed. "You're a Ravenclaw, Ella! Think!"
Another textbook list of charms was flung at the unhappy thing, glinting tauntingly from the tabletop when she had set it. It was tempting now, as Eleanor's temper began to flare again, to simply cast an incendio at the thing and be done with it. Knocking it against the table was also futile.
"Come on! Why wont you just open?"
There was the tiniest click, and before Eleanor's disbelieving eyes, the blasted locket actually opened. You've got to be joking…
Tiny, lightly glowing letters were etched on the inside, spelling out a simple message: Come to my office at once. A.
Eleanor snapped the locket shut and replaced it around her neck. All of that trouble for something a house elf or an enchanted note could have done in a fraction of the time. She groaned, feeling her eyes burn in protest of her missed nap, and made for the door, forgetting to take off her brewing apron as she climbed the steps out of the dungeon.
The flurry of house elves at work caught her attention. Decorations were being hung, tables laid, corridors swept. Hagrid had already gone down to the station by now, she guessed, and soon a handful of teachers would make their way to the gates to greet the carriages. Soon, the whole castle would be abuzz with the students, freshly returned from their break. Eleanor didn't feel ready for it all. She yawned as she trudged up the steps, one after the other, and figured that a pepper-up potion would be heavily needed to get through the sorting.
Swaying unsteadily on the moving staircase, Eleanor yawned once more and was cross upon finding the headmaster already occupied. The great wooden door was firmly shut, and no murmurings filtered out from the cracks under the door. Sighing loudly, she leaned against it and let her thoughts drift. 'At once', huh?
"I would suggest you take the regular path to Hogsmeade from time to time," Dumbledore said softly as he struggled to select the next sweet from the wide bowl on his desk. "The aurors will come to know that you are frequently about, and you never know when you'll need to-…"
"But the tunnel under the willow is much more efficient. There is nothing to prevent me in going on my way, and there are no enchantments around the Shrieking Shack."
"Do this for me, Severus," Albus urged. "There is a method to my madness, I assure you."
Snape watched the headmaster choose a licorice snap at last, popping it into his mouth with a quick flick of his wrist before the unhappy candy could bite. Severus didn't know anyone else who had the stomach for them, much less escaped getting bitten on the tongue.
"How are you settling in?"
Snape blinked in disbelief as the headmaster shifted the subject as though it were merely a debate on the weather. "Fine."
"Horace has requested Professor Merrythought's old office, so you will be pleased to know that your old office and rooms are unaffected if you should wish to return-…"
"No. My living quarters are quite enough."
"I see." Dumbledore leaned against the windowsill and studied the gloomy skies with a frown. "Do you dislike Horace?"
Snape shifted his gaze away, "He wasn't particularly helpful when I was a student."
"Oh?"
"Are you seeking a review?"
"Merely a summary, if you wouldn't mind."
"He was always rather oblivious to what went on in Slytherin house," Severus clenched his hands in his lap. "And he never defended us to McGonagall or any of the staff, especially when Gryffindor was involved."
Dumbledore's blue eyes watched Snape carefully as he spoke, "So you object to his role as a mentor to Slytherin house? You shall take great pride in knowing that I am not taking that position away from you."
"It's not just that."
"You will also be comforted in knowing that his position here is like that of Sybil's. I daresay he'll still be in the mindset of a retired man, and not willing to go the extra mile like the rest of you."
"Why bring him here?"
"I think we'll save that for another time," Dumbledore said as he stepped down to the table filled with the enchanted instruments. "I have another appointment, and you, my boy, have a lot to do before classes start."
Severus rose stiffly and made for the door, politely refusing the handful of lemon drops that were offered to him on the way. His attention was elsewhere as he wrenched the knob to the left and pulled the door open. Without warning, Severus had to backpedal out of the way of a body falling to the ground like a sack of potatoes. The redhead had shot out her arms in a futile effort to steady herself on her way down and she landed flat on her back right at his feet.
Dazed, Eleanor tried to orient herself as Severus took in her appearance. He guessed that she had dozed off while leaning against the door, judging by the shine of drool on her lip and her bleary eyed expression. Her face flushed in embarrassment, and did nothing to hide the fact that she had been brewing all week with little rest. Her apron was soiled with insect wings, bits of plants and stains of every colour and the entire front of her shirt was damp, revealing her poor choice of wearing a dark bra underneath a light shirt. From her atrocious hairdo to her stained jeans, Eleanor looked god-awful.
Mentally swearing, Eleanor scrambled to her feet. Her back was shrieking in pain, but she was too busy waiting for whatever would fall out of Snape's mouth to pay any attention to it. He merely cocked an eyebrow at her, still wearing a very disgusted scowl, and pushed her aside on his way out.
It stung. His hatred practically radiated from his body as the door was shut loudly behind her.
"Eleanor," Dumbledore called genially, oblivious to Snape's display. "I'm glad to see that you have made it."
"Y-yes."
"Please have a seat. Lemon drop?"
"Yes, please."
"I hope I haven't interrupted," he gestured to her apron.
"Not at all, sir."
"Good. I was hoping to brief you on your first run with Remus this evening."
"T-this evening?" Eleanor asked in disbelief.
"There is a family that is trying to get from Notting Hill to Nice, where they have relatives waiting for them. They have been under heavy surveillance, it would seem, and they do not feel safe leaving on their own. I need you and Remus to be their escorts from Putney Bridge to Audinghen. They will meet you on their own."
"Where are we meeting them, exactly?"
"Remus has already worked that out. He will let you know when it is time," Dumbledore pointed to his chest as he spoke. "I wish you the best of luck. And before you go, there is the matter of getting there…"
"Sir?"
Dumbledore glanced at her over the top of his spectacles, hand frozen halfway to a stack of papers.
"Do you actually enjoy Acid Pops?"
The headmaster's face slowly broke out into a mischievous grin, obviously delighted that she had picked up on his clue for the password to the staircase. "I do rather enjoy the lime ones… if only for a short time."
Snape, along with the other Heads of Houses, stood waiting for the first of the students to make their way into the castle. The start of term feast had become so routine to him that he hardly paid any attention to the faces now appearing in the amorphous crowd, all pushing their way in with loud voices and smiles. It was just a blur in front of him. He tipped his head to the handful of students in green that greeted him, but otherwise stood stock still, hands tucked neatly behind him, as he contemplated the strange feeling of watching his sixteenth start of the school year as a teacher knowing that it was likely his last.
The Defense against the Dark Arts post was cursed. Even Dumbledore didn't deny it, though he had jokingly told Severus during the summer that he had hoped to "break the curse" with Severus taking the job. They both knew it was nothing more than a pipe dream. The curse trapped in Dumbledore's hand was slowly eating away his life, and would likely claim him if Draco didn't make his move first. Dumbledore's morbid request lingered in Severus's mind, decaying his mood. It was something he hoped would never present itself.
He spotted Eleanor among the staff lined up some distance away. It appeared as though she had showered and changed, a drastic improvement on her earlier appearance. The black pointed hat sitting atop her cascade of loose red curls made her appear much taller than she already was. He wrinkled his nose and tore his gaze away as Slughorn's beaming face emerged from the thinning crowd. He needed to try harder to ignore her.
McGonagall freed herself from greeting Slughorn and made a beeline for Severus behind the stragglers bringing up the rear. The last of the carriages had come, and the only remaining students were the first years coming up from the boats, mouths agape.
"Potter's not here," she hissed discreetly.
"What?"
"All of his friends – Granger, Weasley, Longbottom – they're all here, but Potter is not."
"I don't recall seeing Malfoy either," Severus noted, watching the witch's expression turn. "I'll let Dumbledore know."
"No, I'll send Filius," McGonagall gave him a little shove, "Go check the gates. I hope our other guests aren't giving any trouble."
Nodding, Severus walked briskly out into the cool night air. The path to the gate was clear of anyone, and he couldn't see any signs of Potter or Malfoy on the immediate grounds. A soft glow from the trees caught his eye after a moment, just as he was about to turn back to the castle. A wolf-like patronus bounded up the hill and came to a stop before him.
"I've got Harry. We're at the gate," the patronus spoke in Nymphadora Tonks's low whisper.
Breathing a small sigh of relief, Snape made his was down the path, transfiguring a lantern to alert the witch that he was on its way. Peculiar, he thought as he pondered Tonks's new patronus while the twin winged boar statues came into view.
Snape smirked down at the pair he found waiting at the gate.
"Well, well, well," he said as he waved the padlock open, the protective charms eagerly reacting to his wand. "So nice of you to turn up, Potter. Evidently, you've decided wearing school clothes would detract from your appearance."
The chains slithered away and the gate creaked open before him. Even in the dim, yellow light from Snape's lantern, Potter's loathing was clearly visible beneath a layer of caked-on blood.
"I couldn't change – " Potter began, but Snape ignored him entirely.
"You may go, Nymphadora. Potter is quite safe in my hands."
Tonks frowned, her expression matching her appearance, "Hagrid was supposed to get my message."
Snape shifted his weight impatiently, sending the lantern swinging against his side. "Hagrid is late for the start of term feast, just like Potter here, so I answered instead. And incidentally, I was quite interested to see your new Patronus."
Snape, though sneering down at Tonks and a very sour faced Potter, had to swallow hard to fight the nervousness fighting its way up his throat. Tonks' Patronus had appeared as a very bedraggled, bipedal wolf. Anyone with half a brain could figure out its embarrassing reason. Though the nature of changing forms was well-known, it had slipped his mind how easily it could occur, giving rise to a very inane yet insistent worry.
Snape slammed the gates shut in Tonks' face with a loud clang, actively reeling in his own frustration as he tapped the chains with his wand. They jumped to life, weaving themselves through the bars and connecting with the giant padlock once more. The deflection charms returned, giving off a delicate hum.
"You were better off with the old one," he sneered down at the mousy haired woman, barely masking the malice whirling about in his mind as he spoke. "This new one looks weak."
Satisfied with her instant look of shock and anger, Snape turned on his heel and marched back to the castle with a furious Potter in tow. The lantern creaked as it swung in his hand, the only thing breaking the tense silence between the two as they walked. Snape wasn't paying attention to Potter. He was busy tamping down his own frivolous thoughts on the nature of his Patronus. It was only after enduring a great many of Potter's banal attempts at showing his contempt that Severus decided to retaliate.
"Fifty points from Gryffindor for your lateness," he said quietly, instantly rewarded with Potter's eyebrows shooting up so high they threatened to take wing. "Another twenty for your Muggle attire. You know, Potter, I don't believe any House has ever been in negative figures at the start of team. You may have set a record."
Potter, vibrating with anger, tamped his mouth shut and kept walking. Tonks had seemed unconcerned about the blood on his face, so Severus figured he had no reason to worry. Perhaps he had run into the compartment door and was too mortified to make the journey up with everyone else or risk tarnishing his reputation.
"I suppose you wanted to make an entrance, did you?" Snape went on, tempting his mind to quiet. "With no flying car available, you decided that bursting into the Great Hall in the middle of the feast ought to create the desired dramatic effect."
Ordinarily, digging this much into Potter would have Snape practically grinning. Potter was, remarkably, still silent. And yet, Severus could only think about his Patronus.
When the two reached the Great Hall, Severus rid himself of the lantern and saw Potter reaching for his cloak.
"No cloak," Snape snapped. "You can walk in so that everyone sees you, which is what you wanted, I'm sure."
Potter shot him a dirty look and stomped his way to the empty spot by his group of friends. Scanning his own table, Severus was relieved to see Malfoy among them, and he looked particularly jovial for someone who had such a grim task laid on him not long ago. He kept gesturing at his nose and the students around him would burst into another round of raucous laughter. Snape began to suspect that Potter's bloodied face and Malfoy's nose story were connected, but made no effort to voice any concern to the other teachers as he took his place at the high table, sliding into the chair between Slughorn and Trelawney.
He could feel Eleanor peering at him from around Slughorn's rotund figure. Luckily, his former teacher was quick to spark a conversation and spare Severus any chance of meeting her gaze.
"Why Severus, my boy," Horace made for a handshake that Severus did not meet. "It's good to see you! Yes, good to see you. I haven't seen you since, well since you were a fresh graduate, yes?"
"Yes, sir-…"
"I was just telling Bristow here I haven't seen her since she was a wee little thing," he gestured over to Eleanor who had her chin propped up on her hand, eyes closed. "My, how you've both grown up!"
And how old you've gotten, Severus thought bitterly. Severus's eyes lingered on the academic cap perched atop Slughorn's head. As Dumbledore rose and made his way to the gilded podium, his starting words effectively interrupting Slughorn's attempts at conversation.
"The very best of evenings to you all!" Dumbledore exclaimed brightly, opening his arms wide in a welcome gesture. There was an audible gasp from the student body when his blackened hand was noticed, and Dumbledore – who seemed to have anticipated this – continued to smile genially and continued, "Nothing to worry about… Now, to our new students, welcome, and to our old students, welcome back. Another year of magical education awaits you!"
Eleanor did her best to hide her yawn behind her fist and pulled the brim of her hat down a little farther. She had nearly dozed off into the slice of chocolate gateau she had swiped before Snape had made his entrance with Potter. She grinned to herself as Dumbledore announced Filch's heavily petitioned blanket ban on products from Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes, hearing the entirety of the student body mumble and moan collectively. The Gryffindor table seemed particularly devastated.
"Those wishing to play for their house quidditch teams should submit their names to their heads of house, as usual. We are also looking for new quidditch commentators, who should do likewise.
"We are pleased to welcome a new member of staff, Professor Slughorn-…"
Horace Slughorn rose to his feet eagerly, swiping Eleanor's hat with his elbow as he did so. She watched her former teacher grin and wave to the students, and saw all of their eyes swivel to his – and, by proxy, her – direction. She sank a little lower in her seat.
"-who has graciously agreed to resume his old post of Potions master."
The hall erupted into hissing whispers, the walls buzzing in surprise. Eleanor carefully turned her gaze to her stiff backed mentor, who sat in his chair as frozen as a statue and looking extremely sour faced.
"Meanwhile, the post of Defense Against the Dark Arts will be taken by Professor Snape," Dumbledore spoke a little louder to cut through the low chatter.
It was his last statement though, that threw the Great Hall into chaos. It erupted with unmasked surprise, and the Slytherin table was the only group to think to give Snape some feeble applause. Harry Potter had actually stood and shouted "NO!"
Slughorn had good naturedly tried to clap, but sensing the complete lack of enthusiasm for Snape's new position, only managed a single one before trying to sneak his hands back into his lap. Eleanor had clapped inaudibly, her hands brushing the table before she, too, hid them in her lap. Feeling a little sorry for Severus, she glanced at him once more to see he was unchanged, but most likely glaring at Potter as the boy ducked his head down at the scarlet-clad table. Dumbledore tried in vain to recapture the students' attention, but their buzzing about the change in staff didn't end as he began to speak about the new security until he spoke You-Know-Who's name.
"Lord Voldemort and his followers are once more at large, and they are gaining in strength."
Eleanor swallowed hard and looked wearily at the glass of wine Slughorn was sipping from. The silence that fell over the crowd was tense.
"I cannot emphasize strongly enough how dangerous the present situation is, and how much care each of us at Hogwarts must take to ensure that we remain safe. The castle's magical fortifications have been strengthened over the summer. We are protected now in new and more powerful ways, but we must guard scrumptiously against carelessness on the part of any student or staff member. I urge you all to abide by the new restrictions that may be imposed upon you, however irksome it may be. If any of you witness something suspicious, please report it to a member of staff immediately."
An auror – Dawlish, perhaps – walked past the doors of the Great Hall, reminding Ella that privacy that year would be hard to come by. Her eyes darted back to Dumbledore, who continued his speech in a more solemn tone.
"Once, there was a young man, who like you sat in this very hall, walked this castle's corridors, slept under it roof. He seemed to all the world a student like any other. His name? Tom Riddle."
Dumbledore seemed deaf to the gasps from the crowd. McGonagall seemed a little uncomfortable as she peered down at her vanishing plate. Slughorn appeared paler in that moment, his smile fading.
"Today of course, he's known by another name. Which is why, as I stand looking out upon you all tonight, I'm reminded of a sobering fact. Every day, every hour, this very minute, perhaps, dark forces attempt to penetrate this castle's walls.
"But in the end, their greatest weapon… is you."
Snape felt a chill as Dumbledore directed his last words towards the Slytherin table. He knew whom Albus was seeking in that crowd. It made the bile rise in his throat.
"Just something to think about. Now, your beds await, as warm and comfortable as you could possibly wish. I know that your top priority is to be well rested for your lessons tomorrow. Let us therefore say goodnight. Pip pip!"
The benches all scraped the floors in unison and hundreds of students began to strike up an animated conversation as they filed out of the Great Hall. As Snape rose to make a hasty retreat back to his rooms, Eleanor had flown to her feet and darted for the Headmaster. Albus nodded to her and whispered something before she took off half jogging, into the multitude of students. Severus could follow her black pointed hat all the way out the door.
Something else he isn't telling me… Snape thought bitterly before his mind flew back to Potter's uncouth rejection of his new position. That arrogant toerag. Had it been any other student, McGonagall or any other member of staff would have escorted him out of the Hall, given him a swift lesson in manners, and sent him on his way with a detention or two. But Snape wasn't about to let Potter mar his opportunity. If this was to be his last year teaching, then by Merlin he was going to go all out. The woodcuts and paintings he had installed in the room that afternoon would be a welcoming touch that Potter could appreciate. Snape smirked to himself as he glided to his rooms, his step a little lighter than it had been before.
Eleanor had followed each and every step that Dumbledore had given her precisely as he directed.
She stood wearing an old warm up uniform: a black athletic jumper, close cut to her body so fast flying wouldn't be uncomfortable, black riding pants, an old wand hip holster she hadn't used in years and her league boots. All of her team emblems were removed, and it was warm enough for her to roam without a cloak. But standing there in the dark woods on the outskirts of Hogsmeade clutching her Firebolt S, Eleanor shivered.
Nearby there was a quiet snap, and moments after, Remus Lupin's face poked around a tree trunk, beaming in recognition. "You made it!"
She laughed nervously, 'Somehow I've managed that much. And what is that?"
Lupin followed her gaze to his wretched looking broomstick. The unhappy thing looked to be on its last leg, missing twigs and bearing a wobbly crossbar and a handle so nicked and scuffed up Ella cringed.
"Is that a bloody Tinderblast?"
Lupin laughed shyly, "Good eye."
"Oh Merlin, Remus," Eleanor exclaimed. "Had I known you were bringing that I would've brought you my spare!"
"It's alright, really," he shrugged.
"No. No way. Not on my watch. I'll get you a new broom myself! What kind do you want? One for speed? Maneuverability? Comfort?"
Lupin laughed hard, doubling over as he wiped a tear from his eye. "Only you would be so bothered by a broomstick. If it means that much to you, then by all means."
"That thing belongs in a museum, not in the air," Ella snorted.
"Well, it was cheap!"
"Have you even ridden it?"
Remus turned over the handle in his hands with a lopsided grin, "Not much. This'll be the true test, I suppose."
Lupin broke out into another round of chuckling upon seeing the horror in Ella's face.
"That's it! I'm bringing you a new broom for next time. No objections!"
"Yes, ma'am," he laughed. "Ah, well, before we run too late, let me get you up to speed.
"I've gone ahead and arranged a meeting point. I'll apparate us there – don't look so apprehensive, Eleanor – and we'll go the rest of the way by broom. They have family meeting them just across the Channel, so it should be a quick flight."
"On that thing, I'm not so sure…"
Lupin grinned mischievously, "All the same, I expect it will pretty quiet. We'll have to be on guard. Dumbledore mentioned they were being watched and approached quite heavily over the last few months."
"Anyone I know?"
"Subordinate to Amelia Bones. That's all I know."
"Why not apparate? I know the Floo and Portkeys are pretty restricted now, but surely-…"
"They've got a couple kids under age. The Trace will give them some unwanted attention."
Ella nodded slowly in understanding as Lupin straightened his jumper and offered his hand.
"It'll be a few stops."
Oh joy," she groaned, taking his hand and keeping a firm grip on her broom, "I can hardly wait."
Lupin chuckled before turning on the spot, sending the both of them whirling into nothingness in an instant. They touched down exactly four times – Ella counted each nauseating stop – until they popped into appearance behind a bar in a noisy part of town. Eleanor shot her hand out to the wall nearby to steady herself as a wave of nausea and dizziness took a while to wear off. Lupin was busy scouting out the area, the effects of apparating lost on him. She watched him dart here and there, all while taking in the worrying new marks on his face and hands, wondering how he was doing with brewing his own Wolfsbane, after she had sent him the most detailed instructions – checked by Severus, of course – not long ago. It was proving too difficult to send it by owl nowadays, and she knew Dumbledore was getting him the ingredients somehow.
"They'll be coming out of the back of that restaurant," Lupin said breathlessly, pointing to the seedy, dimly lit building with a peeling green door. "And we need to conceal our faces."
"What?" Eleanor watched Lupin fish out his wand and, with a swish over his face, materialize a mask out of wisps of coloured smoke. She jumped, instantly recognizing a familiar sight, however Lupin's mask was black and cut in the shape of a dog, with a snout concealing his nose and two sharp ears poking up from his forehead.
"What do you think?"
She smiled, "Are we to play the part of a flying magical menagerie?"
"Only if you join in," he grinned back. "Dumbledore thought it best for us to keep our faces and names hidden from anyone we escort. Didn't he mention it to you?"
"No, but it makes sense," Eleanor copied Lupin, waving her wand across her face and imagining a mask similar to his. It was cold on her cheeks as it materialized, and she tried to shut out her memory of Snape's mask staring at her from that dark hallway in Cokeworth. "We're not… if we run into anyone… troublesome… we're not supposed to-… going to-…"
"Dumbledore said by any means necessary," Lupin replied, his pale eyes trained on the green door.
"That doesn't necessarily mean lethal, does it?" Eleanor felt an uneasy twinge in the pit of her stomach. If everyone was flying about in a mask, how could they tell who was friend from foe?
Lupin seemed to sense she was bothered, "No. Not necessarily, no."
There was a long bout of silence between them. Nearby, a restaurant was pouring accordion music into the night air and the smell of fried foods drifted on the gentle wind. There was laughter, shouting, noise from muggle cars. It was a lively Sunday night, and here they were, crouched behind a restaurant in a dismal alleyway near a dumpster. Eleanor was exhausted, leaning on her broomstick for support and praying she didn't doze off like she had attempted all day. She felt her eyelids grow heavy as they waited.
"Hey, Remus?"
"Hm?" Lupin's eyes did not leave the door.
"Why do you suppose Tonks is so cross lately?"
Alarmed, Lupin rounded on her, "What?"
Eleanor continued, nonplussed, "Yeah. She seemed a bit…put out at the last meeting. I mean, her hair was red and everything. She seemed a bit angry with me, I think. Why do you suppose that is?"
"I-I'm not sure," he sputtered, seeking out the peeling door once more, which remained firmly shut.
"Hmm. I thought I remembered you telling me that you were hanging out with her a bit. Her and Hestia."
"I did."
"Didn't go well?"
"You never mentioned to me that you were staying with Snape all summer," his tone was anxious, but his mask kept her from seeing his real expression.
"It wasn't all summer," she said coolly. "It was after my apartment had that fire. The landlord told me my floor was a loss, and Dumbledore suggested I stay with Sev-… Snape."
"He suggested it?"
"Well, yeah. I had no idea where he lived. I think it was because Dumbledore knew he was an Order member and could get me to meetings more discreetly than me puttering in on my broom. I'm guessing, at least. Snape wasn't super thrilled."
"You could've stayed with me."
Eleanor felt her cheeks flush under her mask.
"I mean, it's not much, my place," Lupin admitted, "but I wouldn't have minded the company."
"It would've been more fun," Ella smiled. "Snape's a bit of a stick in the mud, as you would expect."
"I can't imagine why Dumbledore would think it's a good idea to have you stay with him."
Eleanor was surprised a bit by the bitterness in the last word. Lupin seemed to regard Snape quite civilly compared to many Order members and his late friend, Sirius Black. He even defended him on a number of occasions.
'He's not so bad…"
"You don't know him like I do."
Swallowing hard, Eleanor quietly replied, "I know him pretty well, I think. I've spent the last three years working closely with him at the school."
"You didn't know him before then, before Dumbledore… Never mind, it's not important."
Ella knew that Remus had been close to Sirius, who undoubtedly disliked Severus. She didn't think his dislike was so deeply rooted. Lupin was, in her opinion, one of the gentlest and kindest wizards in the Order. It unnerved her to see him so incensed when they spoke about Snape. Nevertheless, she yawned widely and propped herself up against the brick wall. By now, it was very early in the morning and the noise on the streets took a shift to reflect the late night bar-hoppers starting to dwindle in number. It was a Sunday, after all.
With a loud bang, the green door at last swung open, smashing into the side of the restaurant before slamming shut again. Four people had bolted from the restaurant with brooms and carpetbags in hand. Lupin jumped at the sight of them and ran over to the flustered man, who was still wearing the day's suit and looking absolutely terrified. His wife was close behind, shepherding young boy and an even younger girl. At first, the man seemed a little surprised by Lupin and Eleanor's appearance, but quickly gathered that they were not going to harm them.
"There are… two guys… in there," the man wheezed. "I don't think… they saw us come out, but they watched us the entire meal."
"We need to be going then," Lupin said in a low voice.
"How are we going to do this?" Ella asked him as she trotted over. She turned to the couple before Lupin could answer, "How comfortable are your children with riding?"
The woman spoke, brushing a grey lock of hair behind her ear, "Nathan can ride on his own, but Sophia can't yet. Not for this."
"I'd feel better if he didn't ride solo Margaret," the man said.
"Dad!" his son hissed. "I can do it!"
"Now's not the time-…"
"Now's not the time, exactly, my dear," Margaret scolded.
"I can handle co-riding," Eleanor said to Lupin quietly. "I've done it a lot before."
"You have the fastest broom," he replied, "so you'd be better off as a guard."
They shuffled around in haste until the boy rode with his father – much to the boy's chagrin – and the little girl with her mother, Lupin taking the rear after confirming the route with Eleanor. Releasing her broom to hover a couple feet off the ground, Eleanor began to feel her stomach do somersaults. They were really going to do this. She settled into position, her feet locked on the proper angle on the crossbar, before looking back at the group.
"On my count," she said firmly. "One, two… three!"
They kicked off from the ground and shot up into the air, gaining as much altitude as they could so their worries of their disillusionment charms not working on the muggles – and potentially, Death Eaters - below would be greatly diminished. There was little cloud cover here, not enough to soak them or cause them to stick out as the light from the city reflected lightly off of them. Ella swiveled her head over her shoulder to check on the group several times, ensuring they were keeping pace with her. The family's brooms were more up to date Cleansweeps, so her fear was more rested in Lupin's old model after she assessed the mother and father seemed at ease with broomflight at this altitude.
Below them, London came and went in a glittering array, dazzling their eyes so greatly that the following darkness of the surrounding area was blinding. Eleanor urged them a little faster, noting that goggles would be a welcome addition to her outfit, and perhaps another layer beneath her jumper. The docks went past them as they hovered above the Thames, following its winding path to Woolwich, where they broke away from the river and headed for the darker skies. They went around Dartford, taking care to keep to the outskirts as much as possible. It was a long, quiet ride that still left Eleanor's knuckles white as she gripped her broom hard. Any moment, they could be met by a curse, ambushed, killed…
Steering them towards the treeline, Eleanor let them lower their altitude since they were relatively far out and guessed the children needed a warming after being up so high for so long. She glanced back and saw they were all still there, Lupin a dark blob in the background. They were over Kent Downs. Eleanor knew her grandmother's house was somewhere below, the place she hadn't gone since she was six or seven. She remembered the rolling hills and wildflowers and the stream with the cows that would water themselves from the neighboring farm she was always told to keep out of. At that moment, a warm bed in that cozy old home of Grandma Brimble had sounded marvelous. Ella had to slap her cheeks to wake herself up as they neared the coastline at last, and miles of freezing water sloshed and sprayed below them.
Eleanor was astounded they had made it with nothing to show but a few close flying sea birds that took a liking to picking apart Lupin's broom twigs. Tendrils of sunrise were just starting to leak onto the horizon as they touched down in a field outside Audinghen. Her legs felt wobbly as she dismounted and made her way over to the family. They were yanking their bags from their broom handles and giving one another relieved hugs. Lupin clapped Eleanor on the shoulder.
"Well, that was an easy ride," he said, relief evident in his voice.
Not long after, a loud crack sounded and a pair of witches appeared to greet the shivering family. They thanked Lupin and Ella profusely before uncovering their Portkey, a beaten up old bucket lodged in the dirt of the field. Eleanor was glad to see them all vanish on the spot, knowing they were safe.
"And now, let's get back."
"Merlin, Remus," Eleanor groaned, "I don't think I can fly all the way back. That was awfully exhausting for being so… so…. uneventful."
"Be glad," he said gruffly. "I wasn't expecting it to be so quiet after the warning Dumbledore gave me."
"What warning? I thought you said you expected it to be quiet?"
"Never mind. And we're not flying the whole way back. They left us a Portkey too."
"Where does it stop?"
"Dungeness."
"That's just the coast! Remus, you don't expect us to fly all the way back to London, or… or Hogsmeade!"
He laughed and wiped away his mask, "Of course not. We'll trade off apparating and flying until we get to Hogsmeade. I'm not going to leave you to fly all the way back to Hogwarts yourself."
Eleanor sighed. It was going to be a long time before she would get to see her bed.
"Expecto patronum."
The incantation was merely a whisper, lost into the air like the white mist pouring from Snape's wand. He wasn't focused.
"Expecto patronum," he repeated more resolutely. In his mind's eye, he was lost in a memory of watching Lily Evans outswing him on the playground, her small body leaving the swing and hovering in a long, slow arc all the way to the ground as she floated lighter than a soap bubble. Her laughter melted with his on that warm, summer day. He left the swing less gracefully than she, but any muggle child could tell that they both could stay in the air far longer, and jump much farther, than a regular kid could.
This time, the mist billowed into a great, glowing white cloud, bounding away from him as a silver doe took shape. She came to a stop by his nightstand, looking at him woefully beneath long, silver lashes. Her eyes shone in the darkness, watching him expectantly as he took in the sight of her and breathed a small sigh of relief. It was the same, he concluded. The same corporeal patronus he had known for years, faithfully hidden from general knowledge. His secret.
Back in school, Severus could summon a patronus charm far earlier than his classmates, but it had been distinctly lacking any sort of form. Instead it came and went as a massive cloud that breathed of his friendship with Lily, dispelling any notion that he was ordinary in his DADA class. He never had much use of it before the Order, and even then he knew it distinctly hidden away in that amorphous mass that sped off to deliver hasty messages. He was sure none of them even thought it were possible for him to produce a corporeal patronus. Perhaps one day he could shock them all and drink in the sight of their humiliation.
The only one who had seen it was Sirius Black. It had been unintentional, and created in great haste to alert him of Harry Potter's escapades at the Department of Mysteries. It had been a blur in his memory – he could recall endlessly running through that damned forest with Eleanor, and nearly getting killed by a mob of centaurs – but he could remember that in his haste, he had simply neglected to stick with his usual charm. Snape was regretful the instant the doe left his wand. But perhaps, Snape figured, it was the sight of a familiar form that knocked enough sense into Black's thick head that Snape had been telling the truth, and by doing so, saved Harry Potter's life. He would never know, because Severus also knew he likely sent the man to his own death. Unintentionally, of course, as Sirius Black was too hot headed and stubborn to turn down any opportunity to help his godson. At least, Severus thought, he didn't have to hear Black rattle on about Snape's patronus, mocking him a la Marauder.
The sight of the patronus, which was still stubbornly locked in appearance, soothed Snape and he allowed it to evaporate, sending the room into darkness. It was late, and the start of classes would greet him in the morning whether he wanted it or not. But his attempt to fall asleep was not without disruption, and a cold weight slowly pressed him deeper and deeper into the sheets of his bed until he was nearly suffocating.
You must be the one to kill me, Severus. It is the only way.
A/N: It took me way too long to post. It's my goal to be better on posting this year! Thanks for being so patient, sweet readers and reviewers!
