Chapter 77 - "No matter where I go, I will come back to my English Rose"

"Tell me again what you saw in the Pensieve." Severus asked her gently as he delicately bathed the scabs on her chest.

Circe sucked in a sharp breath through her teeth as his cloth touched her sore skin. Her arms flew up to instinctively protect her sore skin from further pain.

"Ouch, Sev! That bloody stings!"

She would have recoiled away from his administering hands had her back not been pressed up against the edge of Severus's substantial bath pool. He knelt in the water before her, the two of them naked and engulfed in the warm bubbles. Severus paused for a moment, waiting for Circe to remove her arms from her chest so he could continue his doctoring. She sighed and reluctantly lowered her hands back into the water, allowing him to carry on applying his healing tinctures.

It had been Severus's idea to see to her acid burns in his bathroom, given that the location of her wounds was in a rather intimate spot. In the large bath pool, Severus could see the extent of the hex as she sat naked before him, and he could clean up the welts and blisters similarly unburdened by his clothes…. As the water had filled up, spewing from out of the gargoyle's mouth, Circe had seen him throw a few potions and raw ingredients into the pool that she assumed would help her with her healing. Perhaps a few things to relax her too… But as she'd predicted, as soon as Circe had stripped and removed the clammy bandages, she'd lowered her chest into the tepid water and instantaneously the infuriating itching ceased. The thrum of anxiety in her veins seemed to somewhat diminish too…

"They are healing nicely. You have managed to control your scratching to an agreeable enough extent that you will probably not notice any scarring." Severus mumbled as he dabbed his cloth at her wounds once more.

Circe scrunched up her face and groaned, but nevertheless she took a small bit of comfort from having Severus close to her, in the wonderful warmth of the bath pool, his exposed, pale chest there for her to appraise as she waited for him to stop his administering. She watched his face carefully as he worked on her. His eyes were afire with concentration. His hands were deft and firm. There was nothing inherently sexual in the way he was touching her then, but nevertheless she felt a small pang of desire watching him so focused. It was a small, but welcomed distraction from what had been a hellish few days…

"Circe, the memory. Tell me." Severus prompted again. "It'll help to take your mind off the stinging."

And the Calming Draft I threw in here will help you to not think about… her. Severus added in his own mind.

"I told you Sev. It was Cyprus. The memory was of Hepzibah's villa in Cyprus. Tom Riddle must have visited her out there once he heard about her treasures."

"The locket?"

"And the other stuff... She boasted so openly about her "collection" when she was in Borgin and Burkes, it was only a matter of time before Tom Riddle came to appraise it. I knew his curiosity would have eventually taken him out to Cyprus."

"And what was it like? Hepzibah's villa?"

"I could feel the heat on my skin from the sun. As soon as I put my head in the Pensieve, it was like I'd stepped into a goldfish bowl, Sev. And that salty taste to the air… It was on my tongue. The villa was right by the sea. This beautiful turquoise-coloured sea… No wonder Hepzibah spent a fortune on renting the place, it looked more like Emperor Nero's palace than the holiday home of some former English socialite."

"Well, Hepzibah Smith was notoriously flamboyant with her wealth." Severus grumbled. "Hence why she found herself in quite a lot of debt towards the end of her life. She always claimed to be a descendant of Helga Hufflepuff, you know?"

"The Heir of Slytherin meets the descendant of Hufflepuff…" Circe muttered, her mind flitting over that strange and exotic memory. "And only one of them left that villa alive."

"So, the locket. She showed him the locket."

"She sat him on the veranda of the villa and dangled it infront of his face. Like it was nothing. Hepzibah plonked it down on the table and took a bite of a baklava, like it meant nothing…"

Circe could see it in her mind's eye:

Hepzibah lying recumbent on her sofas, her pale face and her flowing pink gown making her look like some grotesque parody of a marble aphrodite sculpture. Tom, on the other hand, had been sat demurely and straight-backed in a deck chair, smiling his charming smile and playing the part of the grateful house-guest so well… His beautifully dark and ruinous eyes never once left Hepzibah as she waffled on endlessly about the cost of the villa, the price of the tiling, the private beach at the foot of the cliffs, the endless stream of notables and important folk she'd had visit her, the small legion of House-Elves she had to run the place... Circe could still see the assortment of edible treats and treasures Hepzibah had spread out on her coffee table. Cakes, jewels, mint tea, gold, baklavas, coins… they all intermingled with each other until Circe couldn't tell if Hepzibah was pointing at the food or at her valuables. She seemed to go through each item one by one and punctuate her show-and-tell by popping a honeyed pastry into her mouth and smacking her lips.

"This cup, Tom…" she remembered Hepzibah's voice stating in a startlingly "showing-off" tone. ".. once belonged to my ancestor, Helga Hufflepuff. If it is filled with the beverage of your desire, the cup will never empty. Watch."

Hepzibah lifted a large decanter of red wine and poured it into the cup. She handed it to Tom and he took it from her talon-like hands. The young man had lifted it to his lips and Circe watched as the red juice flowed out of the cup and trickled down his white chin. He withdrew the cup from his mouth and wiped the wine away from his skin, his eyes glinting and sinful. The cup was still full to the brim in his hands.

"Hepzibah, you spoil me." Tom growled playfully.

The old orange and pink which cackled mischievously, reaching out to the table and plucking a baklava off a small hill of pastries a little House-Elf had left for them.

"And this…?" Tom asked, reaching for a silvery chain wrapped around an overspilling bowl of fruit. He unwound the necklace from a bunch of swollen, claret coloured grapes, his eyes sparkling with a covetousness that Circe had never seen before. Hepzibah snatched it from him and for a second Circe saw a viciousness to send over Tom's eyes, like an adder whose nest had been disturbed. But Hepzibah seemed oblivious to the real danger of the snake she had sat opposite her and Tom soon buried his Serpentine rage as she began her next show and tell.

"The real thing this time, Tom." The large woman began, the honey on her fingers smearing onto the locket's silver chain. "Can you believe that this thing sat around the neck of a Hogwarts founder? That this…" She paused, passing her sticky fingers over the locket. "… Rested just over his heart? The things this necklace has seen over the years… The tales and the tragedies… Baklava, Tom?" She finished, her tone shifting abruptly.

"I cannot refuse you anything, Hepzibah." Tom replied flirtatiously.

Hepzibah chuckled again and snapped her fingers.

"Hokey, the plate…" She commanded.

A set of small fingers closed around the tray of pastries and in the blink of an eye the baklava were presented to Tom in the arms of the same small and pitiful House-Elf Circe had seen in Borgin and Burke's.

"Thank you, Hokey…" Tom said gently, taking a sweet treat from the plate. As he popped it into his mouth, Circe found herself wriggling uncomfortably at the downright sinful way he licked his fingers, never once removing his eyes from Hepzibah.

"They must've fucked…" Circe blurted out suddenly.

Severus flinched a little as his eyes widened in shock.

"Surely not… Hepzibah was in her eighties when-"

"He was flirting with her, Sev. Plain as day. And we both know the best way to get something from someone is to charm them into bed. And Tom wanted the locket… And the cup, probably just for good measure."

"But… The Dark Lord… Can't have…"

"Do you want to see the way he was eye-fucking her, Severus?" She asked, pointing at her temple.

"No… Not really." Severus answered with an uncomfortable frown. "I suppose I shall have to trust your judgment in that regard."

"Ha! Because you don't trust me normally?"

"Oh stop it. You know that's not what I meant."

Circe gave a small chuckle as Severus finished dabbing the last of her wounds. He placed the cloth by the side of the pool and lowered his hands into the water, pulling her gently away from the wall and spinning her around. He sat back against the edge of the bath pool and cradled her in his arms as she nestled back against his chest. They sat in silence together for a long while, both of them thinking about much.

"How did you realize it wasn't real?" Snape asked suddenly.

"Oh, now that you have to see for yourself." Circe answered, tapping her temple again.

Severus hesitated for a moment before gingerly reaching for his wand.

"You aren't going to show me the Dark Lord's flirting, are you?" He grumbled as he reached over to his neat pile of clothes by the side of the pool. He groaned as he just about managed to

stretch enough to reach his wand, laid out neatly on top of his discarded robe.

"No." Circe giggled as she closed her eyes.

Severus pressed the one to her head and took a long and level breath.

"Legillimens…" he whispered.

He slipped easily into her head. Not needing to keep her mental barriers up, she allowed him into her mind as easily as inviting a guest to come and sit in her living room. She let him to one corner of her mind in particular and they're waiting was the memory of Tom and Hephzibah she had seen.

The images flooded everything Severus could see, and when the swirling, bright shapes formed into solid things, he finally saw Hepzibah and Tom sitting on that sunny veranda opposite one another… As Tom fed Hepzibah another heavily honeydew baklava.

"Circe! You told me you wouldn't show me this!"

Severus's cried out into the empty air of the Cyprus villa.

Don't look at them, Sev. Circe's voice resounded in his head with an ethereal echo. Look around.

Severus groaned and drew his attention away from the two people. The gentle breeze from the sea floated through the veranda, making the soft voile curtains flutter in the wind. Each time the white fabric flapped, Severus suddenly noticed a soft… glittering at the very edges of the movement.

He gasped.

And suddenly he could see it everywhere.

On the edges of his vision.

In the roll of the curtains, in the tiny crashes of the waves below, in the salt and sea spray in the air.

That glitter. The glitter that only came from an illusion. A manipulated memory.

"I see it." he said aloud. "But who's memory is this? Why would they want to change or manipulate things when... "

Hepzibah squealed in delight as Tom poured a generous glug of wine from Hufflepuff's cup into her cracked, old lips.

"... when what's left here is already damning enough?"

Watch till the end…

Severus reluctantly returned his eyes to the flirtations happening infront of him. Tom took another bite of a pastry from Hepzibah's outstretched fingers as she flapped her spare hand for her House-Elf again.

"Hokey , bring the chablis from 1830. Our guest deserves better than this vinegar piss you poured into my ancestor's cup."

"Yes mistress." Hokey squeaked, taking the cup in her spidery fingers.

"You should consider yourself lucky, Tom. I only ever crack out the 1830 chablis for very special guests." she purred, running a finger down his top.

"Lucky and spoilt." Tom whispered right back.

Hepzibah's laugh sounded like a gutter being drained of rainwater. She barely even looked at little Hokey as she passed the cup of Hufflepuff back to her, filled to the brim with the wine of her desire.

"In Cyprus, the host drinks first." she stated confidently, brandishing the cup out in front of her.

Severus couldn't decide if she looked more like a descendant of Helga Hufflepuff or Dionysus in that moment…

"Then drink away, my hostess." Tom purred.

Hepzibah lifted the cup to her mouth and took several long and hearty gulps. She gasped and wiped her mouth as she lowered the goblet

"Now, where were we Mister Rid-"

But Hepzibah stopped dead in her words. Faltering on Tom;s last name as abruptly as if she'd choked on it. Her eyes flew open and the cup slipped from her grasp, clattering to the floor in a shrill crash. Severus watched on helplessly as her face went from alabaster pale to deep red, the Potions Master within him wanting to stride forwards and administer the antidote to whatever she had consumed. She opened and closed her mouth like a floundering fish, calling out meekly to Tom for help. If Severus hadn't known the memory was faked already, the wooden and startlingly over-the-top way Riddle responded to the choking woman would have been enough of a clue.

"Hepzibah? Hepzibah! What is it?" Tom called out in a voice that belonged more to an actor than someone genuinely concerned.

But as Severus was wrenched out of the memory, pushed back as Circe's occlumency walls came slamming down, he could still hear Hepzibah's last frightened and struggling breaths in his ears.

"Poison." Severus muttered, able to identify their telltale effects all too well. "Deadly Nightshade if I had to guess, judging by how fast it acted. But who's manipulated memory was it?"

"Think about it, Sev. Hepzibah died so it can't have been hers. Tom Marvolo Riddle would never have given Dumbledore a memory. Who was the only other person you saw there..?"

"Person? There wasn't another person on that veranda."

"There wasn't another human on that veranda, Severus. There was a -"

"The House-Elf? Hokey? It was her memory?"

"Apparently so. The poor thing was arrested and tried for Hepzibah's murder. And that memory I saw… someone planted it in her head. To make her believe she did it. That she poisoned her Mistress. Dumbledore must have asked her for her recollection of that day years later, and that's what we both just saw. The memory of how she thinks that day really went down."

"And that someone who planted the manipulated memory in her head must only be-"

"Tom Marvolo Riddle." Circe finished for him. "God, I wish we could see how he really killed her. And what happened to the locket after that. We know he must have taken the cup, because he used it to make a Horcrux with. He gave it to me. But the locket… The real locket-"

"We still don't know what happened to it." Severus sighed.

"If only Odette had made it back home..." Circe muttered sadly.

Silence descended over the two of them once more. But it was a pregnant silence. Like the silence that follows when a bomb's countdown reaches zero.

The inevitable was here.

Everything they had spoken of before almost seemed like a preamble. Like small talk. Before the real crux of the conversation is reached.

Odette was missing, and for the past day or so, Circe had been manic.

Snape leant his cheek against Circe's crown and tried to listen to the gentle ebb and flow of the water, focusing on something minutely small to distract himself from the dauntingly big. After a while, Severus noticed that Circe seemed to be rocking ever so slightly in his arms.

No, not rocking… he realised. His arms tightened around her. Crying.

"Circe, they'll find her." He whispered softly to her as she continued to weep silently.

"I can't abandon her, Severus. She could be in real trouble. Or hurt. And I promised her… I told her that I would never abandon her again."

News from the Continent had begun to trickle back to them, and none of it good; Odette had last been sighted near the town of Provins, about ten kilometers from Hommehoughair. The Order's allies in France had tried their best to quiz the muggles nearby of the "disturbance" a few locals had reported, but most of them thought it had been a fireworks display or a distant thunderstorm. It seems nobody had seen Odette and Bellatrix's duel, apart from the two sisters-in-law engaged in the fight. One official from the French Ministry had gone to the Chateau des Papillons, but Circe knew that Odette wouldn't have been stupid enough to flee there. Even more worryingly, the multitudes of dark creatures in Europe, the hags, the vampires, the giants, the werewolves, were all slowly declaring their allegiance to Voldemort. Each new black-inked message or secret meeting that Severus responded to when his wrist began burning seemed to be a celebration of one or more new allies joining the Dark Lord's ever-swelling ranks. If Odette was still out there somewhere, hiding in the shadows, she would have every nasty piece of work from Lisbon to St Petersburg keeping a lookout for her. Voldemort's new allies were keen to impress and gain favour with their new master, and bringing in Odette Lestrange would be an opportunity too good to ignore…

The only consolation had been hearing of Bellatrix's return to Britain. At least The Order now had Bellatrix where they could see her and somewhat control her violent outbursts on both the wizarding and muggle communities. But whatever had occurred between the two Madame Lestranges back in France, Bellatrix obviously felt victorious enough to abandon her hunt of Odette and come back home.

Like when a predator lets their wounded prey skulk off somewhere to die on their own… Circe thought miserably. She lapsed back into another round of gut-wrenching sobs, letting all of her fear and worry pour out of her.

Her panic attacks had come back with an awful avengence ever since Dumbledore had returned to his office with the news of Odette's missing-in-action status. She spent most of the nights in and out of a state of overriding and utterly consuming terror, wandering the corridors aimlessly when she could no longer keep physically still. She wanted to run. She wanted to escape the ever encroaching wave of panic that hovered at her back. Everything for her these past few days had been compartmentalised, one moment followed by another. Concentrating solely on existing, praying for Odette, and willing herself to resist everything inside her that told her to go running from Hogwarts to find her. When she didn't do that, and she thought of the things beyond her then and there, her mind descended into a helpless chaos. And that's what she'd been doing for the past two days: walking from room to room of the castle, trying to outrun her own head, thinking about Odette from the depths of the dungeons to the top of Ravenclaw tower, stopping only to search the starts in the heavens above and helplessly asking them what the future held.

Severus had been alerted to her presence there, at the very top of the Tower, by Firenze. The centaur had come trotting into the Staff Room, a place he very rarely braved, to inform Minerva and Severus that Circe had fallen into an exhausted rest, slumped against the parapets in the chill of the early pink dawn. Her absence from the Slytherin versus Gryffindor Quidditch match had been noticed and Severus was about to launch a school wide search before Firenze had informed him of her whereabouts.

And now he had her, in his dungeon rooms, forcing her to stop still and face head-on that which made her weak with terror, all he could do was hold on to her. Hold her close as tight as he could as she wept her bitter tears over his arms. He had tried to distract her by seeing to her wounds and asking Circe to tell him about the Cyprus memory, but now she sat sobbing in his lap, he realised all he'd done is hold back the inevitable torrent of tears and worry. It was simply impossible for her to not be distraught by the news of Odette. The startling reality was that Severus knew exactly how she felt; it would have been exactly like when Dumbledore tried to tell him not to worry about Lily, not to fret over her safety when The Prophecy was revealed. There was nothing he could say that would assuage her. She would feel the worry eating away inside her until Odette was either found dead or alive. And all Severus could do was hold her.

"I can't do this, Sev! I can't sit in Hogwarts in my bathwater and pretend like Odette might not be dying in a ditch somewhere! I need to go! I… I need to leave…! I have… I need to find her...!" she sobbed, her breaths becoming quicker and shorter.

"Take a deeper, longer breath." he instructed her gently, trying to stop her from hyperventilating. "Tell me what the water smells like."

She cried. Harder. Her breathing was jittery and irregular.

"Try and take one long deep breath." Severus repeated again, steadfastly holding on to her and repeating his instructions.

Circe inhaled, long and shuddering, her heart feeling ready to burst out of her skin. She caught the faint hint of something in the air. She didn't quite get it the first time, so she took another long breath in, and as she took in the perfumed air, she felt herself draw slightly away from the precipice of panic.

"Lavender. You've put Calming Draft in here, haven't you." she said, in a decidedly less strained voice.

"Amongst other things." he answered honestly. "Is it helping?"

"A little." she sighed, breathing in another deep chug of lavender. "God, it smells like my granny's knickers in here."

"I'm surprised you didn't notice the smell before. Or the effects of the potion."

"I felt something when I first got in…" she said, pressing a hand to her chest and feeling her heart rate drop with each deep breath she took. "But I thought that might have just been because I was around you."

"You may be one of the first people to ever tell me my presence calms you." Severus chuckled. "I think Mister Longbottom would disagree with you."

"I think three-quarters of the school would disagree with me!" she exclaimed.

Circe felt the man behind her begin to bounce as a hearty laugh overtook him. The force of his chuckle rocked her too as she sat in his lap and she couldn't help but grin too as she physically experienced Severus's humour with him.

"Goodness me, you're in a good mood." she grumbled a little enviously. "What effect does a Calming Draft have on someone who's already calm?"

"I am… rather spaced at the moment, my love." he replied, a hint of dreaminess to his voice.

Circe wheeled around to face Severus with a splash of the lavender scented water, looking curiously into his face. His irises were the size of saucers.

"Severus Snape, you are off your fucking face!"

"Who needs Glastonbury laughing gas when you have Calming Draft, eh...?" he stated placidly.

"Oh Sev, you should have stayed out of the water… The potion won't wear off on time for your duty tonight in the Great Hall."

"Yes well, if I'd done that I wouldn't have been able to administer the healing potions to your wounds."

"And hold on to me when I forgot how to breathe…" she sighed, running a thankful hand over his strong arms. "I'm sorry, Severus..." Circe whispered, feeling hot tears springing up in her eyes once more.

"Don't apologise. You have nothing to be sorry for."

"I do. I'm a bloody liability at the moment. No wonder Dumbledore forbade me to leave this place."

"He forbade you from leaving because he knew that Bellatrix will be watching your next moves now like a hawk." Severus stated firmly.

Circe sniffed again. Her miserable mood deepened once more as she recalled the firm and resolute orders she had received from the Headmaster: no matter how much she wanted to, she couldn't leave Hogwarts to go looking for Odette.

Circe hadn't been recalled to Malfoy Manor since Bellatrix's return, and more than once, the letters and parcels Ziggy had been delivering to her had appeared tampered with. She was being watched. Astutely. And her correspondences were being intercepted. She theorised that Bellatrix had most likely managed to make some headway with Voldemort, convincing him to keep her away from the Death Eater meetings for the time being so her next moves could be watched and scrutinised very carefully. What Circe did next would determine her future as a spy; If she betrayed even the briefest whiffs of disloyalty, Bellatrix would out her and she would most likely be killed.

"Oh God, Sev… What am I going to do?" she cried helplessly, holding on to Severus with all of her strength.

Severus shushed her gently as she began shaking again. But it was not another tidal-wave of grief that might tip her over the edge into a panic-attack as the last onslaught had been, this outpouring was more measured and gentle, but nonetheless still heart-wrenchingly sorrowful.

"If Odette is dead… and she was sent out to Europe because of some stupid hunch of a lead I had -"

"A hunch that turned out to be correct."

"She should never have been sent to Cyprus, Sev. I knew the temptation would be too much for her. I knew she wanted to see her boys more than anything in this world-"

"And ultimately it was not you who made the decision to send her to the Continent." Severus stated firmly. "Dumbledore knew the risks of sending Odette to Europe, and he did so anyway."

"I should have stopped her… I should have gone with her…"

"Both things you were either unable to do or powerless to enforce."

"So what power do I have?!" Circe exclaimed loudly. "This War is taking everything I hold dear from me little by little. My hand, my Dad, my closest friend… And I can't seem to stop any of it from happening. No matter what I do, it strips a little bit more from me. And when I'm completely flayed and raw… that'll be it. With my heart completely laid out in the open, and my guts spread out across the floor, that's how I'll die." Circe whispered. She didn't want to speak it aloud, but the ultimate fear she felt was losing Severus in the war;The final layer of her, wrapped around her heart as he was, cut from her and sent to oblivion. But she had also let Odette close to her, wrapped her around her heart almost as intimately as she had done with Severus, letting her know of her sorrows and the troubles that weighed upon her soul. And this is how the universe had thanked her for that... "I thought when I had to obliviate my family… I thought that would be my lowest point. I thought there wasn't much else that Bellatrix fucking Lestrange could take from me. But there was Odette. And now… I can't even go and find her. I can't reach a hand out to her and pull her out of the waves like she did for me."

Severus remained quiet and introspective for a long while. His own heart pained when he heard Circe's words of despair spoken aloud. Each sob she emitted struck at his chest as hard as a hammer beats an anvil.

He couldn't see her like this.

He couldn't bear to watch her suffer like this.

"Perhaps… if Dumbledore is willing… there is another way that we could help Odette." Severus stated slowly.

"What? How?" Circe asked, turning around to face Severus head on. His dreamy expression had now been replaced by one of hardened determination. The look worried Circe almost as much as thinking on Odette's fate did…

"Your movements and reactions are being tracked currently… but mine aren't."

"Sev…" Circe said cautiously. "What are you saying?

"I'm saying… I could go looking for Odette."

Circe looked at him speechlessly. Her tongue swelled in her mouth and the air left her chest again.

"B-But.." she stuttered. "The Dark Lord… Voldemort and Bellatrix will surely twig that you'd be going out there on my behalf…"

"Not if I tell him that Dumbledore wants me out there for an Order mission. I'll tell him that the old man has instructed me to get a grasp on the growing situation in Europe, make a headcount of all the new legions of allies Voldemort has amongst the werewolves and the hags and the giants and whatever…"

"No, Severus…" Circe muttered, shaking her head. "You can't leave Hogwarts. What about… what about Draco? The bond you made with Narcissa?"

"Draco is still miles away from figuring out how the Vanishing Cabinet works. I haven't seen him near the Room of Requirement or with his little telescope for a long while. You could watch over him. Just to make sure he doesn't hurt himself on some other hairbrained plan to get the Death Eaters inside Hogwarts or bump Dumbledore off early. You made a promise to Narcissa too to look after Draco, did you not?"

"Well, yes but-"

"And if I'm swift, I could make it back to Hogwarts before Christmas. Months before the end of the year…"

Circe stared at him in stunned silence. She wanted to scream at him. Or kiss him. Or something in between. Her head was so tired and confused she didn't know how to respond. "Dumbledore… will never allow it. You're too valuable a chess piece to have here. How will he know what's going on in Voldemort's inner circles without you attending them?"

"You will start attending them. Re-assert your confidence with the Dark Lord, show him you have nothing to hide and nothing to be ashamed of. I'll write to Narcissa. Call in a favour. Tell her to let you know when a meeting is being called, as you don't have the Dark Mark to alert you anymore…" Severus said, gently running his thumb over her wrist. "And I rather think that Dumbledore would be keen to retrieve the information Odette discovered in Cyprus, don't you? It could be crucial to our fighting of the War, after what you saw at Hepzibah's villa. Whatever Odette found could be vital. I imagine he'd be keen to grant me leave if it meant I came back with that."

"And what if something happens to you as well?" Circe asked, a lump rising in her throat. "That would finish me off, Severus."

"Me? I'm invincible. Haven't you heard? The unsinkable Severus Snape." He purred softly, flourishing the air with a dramatic hand.

"Bloody hell, you are stoned." Circe sighed, her lips quirking into a tiny smile.

He splashed the water at her and she exclaimed out loud. Circe scoffed and tried to draw away from him, but Severus reached out for her waist and tugged her back towards him.

"You know there's nothing that could stop me from coming home to you, don't you?" He whispered, cupping her face in his hands. "I could be scattered to every corner of this Earth and eventually I'd find my way home to you. Mountains and winds, seas and mists… my heart would compel me back to your side."

"You can't promise that." She whispered, her eyes clouding with tears.

"I can. I do. I promise you…."

"Severus, I can think of a thousand things that might stop you from coming back. At least Hogwarts is safe-"

"Hogwarts is not safe. You know that as well as I. And we have both been in danger since The Dark Lord rose again. We are all only as safe as we believe ourselves to be."

Circe stared into his black eyes as words failed her. Her head swam with thoughts as her mouth opened and closed. Every time she thought of something she wanted to say, it slipped away from her. Every time she came to a steadfast no or yes, the decision would completely repeal itself.

"And when I come back, with a bit of luck... I can bring Odette back with me." Severus whispered softly. He took her hands and gripped them tightly in his own, bowing his head to her and kissing her palms. "Please. Don't ask me to watch you agonize and wither under the weight of your worry. Not when I can do something to alleviate it."

Circe closed her eyes. She swallowed down a last desperate sob and brought Severus's own hands to her lips. She kissed each of his knuckles, planting her own prayer of protection on each one. When she lifted her face to his, he stared at her expectantly, waiting on bated breath for her decision.

"Alright."


The two of them stood on the threshold of the rickety wooden bridge. Snape's portkey was waiting for him on the other side, in the stone circle, as Order Members had promised him. They both stood there quietly crying and holding each other. The night was still around them. The first touches of frost beginning to form on the grass at their feet. November had become cold and crisp quickly, but the air was clear and the sky sparkled above them. It was a lovely setting for a goodbye.

He buried his face in her hair, savouring her smell and feeling her heartbeat against him, for only God knew when he would next be able to do this.

"Severus, please, let me come with you…" she begged one last time.

"You know you can't, Circe. And I told you… You need to stay here to protect Draco. And Harry. To protect all our students." he replied patiently.

She looked into Severus's face: he was wet cheeked and red eyed, much like she was. "I just wish I knew where you were going. Where you're going to start your search..." her lip trembled. His hand reached up to cup her face.

"I'm sorry, I can't… If you knew the details of the mission, where Dumbledore and I have discussed would be best to search for Odette, and it was let slip to the wrong sort of folk… The Dark Lord may find out why I've actually left for Europe. The game would be up. And then Bellatrix would waste no time on casting aspersions on your loyalties too. It's best you stay ignorant of where I'm going." his voice faltered for a moment "I couldn't live with myself knowing I'd put you in danger…"

"Just please… be careful. Promise me you'll be careful." she said in a quiver, her voice cracking with emotion.

"Of course. I told you. I will return to you, my love. Like your namesake the Modfather says, "No matter where I roam, I will come back to my English rose." he recited, tilting her chin up with a single, delicate finger. Her eyes collided with his. A shiver of intensity rippled through her as he finally pressed his mouth to hers. The kiss was slow and aching. Like the drawing of a bow over a violin's strings.

When they parted, Circe's eyes lingered on his face, feeling every goosebump on her body ignite as he passed his thumb over her lips. She lowered her head and shook it disbelievingly; Circe still couldn't quite bring herself to believe Severus's hopeful assurances, his resolute, unchallengeable belief that he would come back. She didn't know how much of Severus's staunch positivity was for her sake, or if he truly believed it himself. Yet, Severus had always been pragmatic. Realistic. Brutally honest when needed. So why was he refusing to acknowledge his own mortality now? Her heart ached as she acknowledged that Severus's lofty promises were probably his attempts to make her feel better. It wasn't working… but she nevertheless appreciated the steadfastness of Snape's convictions. Even if he was just faking it for her sake.

"Oh, that reminds me…" Circe said, after she swallowed down the lump in her throat. From her own coat lapel she unpinned Minerva's amber brooch and held it in her hands as the wind wrapped around them both. "I want you to take this with you." she stated slowly.

She reached up to his neck and began pinning the brooch to the underside of his collar.

"Ah, so I may keep myself in your thoughts with a sweet melody? Just to make sure you don't forget about me all together?" he asked sarcastically as Circe fiddled with the clasp.

Circe scoffed. "You'll be constantly in my thoughts, music or not. There won't be a single moment of the day when I'm not thinking about you." she whispered hoarsely.

"I know, my love." he uttered, stroking his thumb along her cheek again. Circe paused for a moment to lean into his hand, just to savour his touch for a moment longer. But she swallowed her tears and pressed on with the bestowing of her token, letting Severus's hand drop back to his side.

Circe finished her fiddling and lay Severus's collar down flat, concealing the brooch from view.. "I know you won't be able to write much. If at all. So I thought you could whisper a nice little something to it every so often, just to let me know you're alright."

Severus nodded and touched a deft hand to it. He lifted up his collar and the amber brooch winked at them both in the light of the moon. "My good luck talisman." he muttered, placing the collar back down flat, hiding the brooch from sight once more and giving it a gentle tap.

"I like that bloody brooch." she said, mustering a tiny smile. "So make sure you bring it back, okay?" she stated, pointing a shaking finger at him.

"Of course." Severus chuckled. He took her quivering finger in his own palms and lay another small kiss on her hand.

Her tears threatened to overspill again as Severus bowed his head to her and the heady, intoxicating smell that clung to his hair filled her senses. That beautiful, dark hair that she loved playing with when Severus was still half-asleep on the pillow beside her.

"Is there really nothing you can tell me, Severus?" she whispered. "About the mission?"

Severus rose up slowly and met her gaze. He paused for a moment, seeing the anguish on her face and the shining tears in her eyes. He of course wanted to tell her everything, if it would stop her crying and worrying. But he couldn't. It risked too much. Yet knowing that did not stop his heart from aching inside him when he saw the pain in Circe's emerald irises.

"Just keep Christmas Eve in your head. That's the deadline. If all goes well I shall be back here, right in this spot, at midnight on Christmas Eve at the very latest."

"Christmas Eve…" she echoed. "Eight weeks away…"

"Will you wait for me, right here in this spot? The first thing I want to see when I come home is you." His voice welled up with emotion.

"Of course I will." she sobbed back. "I'll wait every day."

They kissed, the bitter wind whipping up around them.

Circe buried her face in his chest as big bubbling sobs consumed her again. He held her tight to him. She took one last smell of his heady mix of sandalwood and almonds and potion fumes... and calmly stepped back from him.

"Go." she said quietly, "Before I beg you to stay."

"Circe.." he whispered, barely audible above the wind. "I-"

"Don't." she interrupted him. "Tell me when you come home."

He smiled weakly at her and finally turned to walk down the wooden bridge.

She watched him go, the tears running silently down her face until her vision blurred. His black cloak bled into the night the further away he walked and she eventually lost sight of him. Circe still heard his footsteps falling even though she could not see him. The footsteps stopped.

"Circe!" his voice called from the blackness beyond.

And out of the dark came his Arctic Wolf patronus. It padded over the bridge towards her, his final parting gift of love, and scattered to the wind in shards of glittering brightness. She sobbed, his love display breaking down her steely resolve.

"Severus!" she called back into the darkness. "I love you!"

"I love you too!" came his final reply.

And with that, he was gone and she was alone.

Snape hastily wiped his face with his black cuff, eradicating the evidence of his emotional goodbye. He collected himself in the short walk to the meeting place. He had to focus now. Kingsley Shacklebolt stood in the centre of the sundial stone circle patiently waiting for him.

"Evening, Severus." He greeted him in his thick accent.

"Evening Kingsley." He replied. "Have you been waiting long?"

"Only a moment. All set?"

"Indeed." He replied. He tapped his cloak pocket, checking for his wand and then he fidgeted ever so slightly nervously with the bag strap slung over his shoulder. He went through his mental checklist again, ticking over the long list of potions supplies and necessities he had thrown together for his travels. He hoped that everything he might need had made it into the bag on his shoulder.

"Dumbledore only told me a few scant details of the mission… Copenhagen first is it, to parlay with the Mermaids?"

"Yes." Snape replied simply.

Kingsley nodded, also not much of a conversationalist when it came to Order business.

"Well, your portkey will take you to Southwold first..." he moved aside, revealing on the ground behind him an old stained mannequin arm. "Then Moody should be there to arrange your passage across the sea to Denmark. After that you'll have to make your own way to the Carpathians, if you want to reach the Vampires."

"Right…"

Severus sighed and wondered how he was going to make his way down through large parts of Germany and The Czech Republic alone. Dumbledore had indeed given him a laundry list of magical communities he needed to check up on and assess where their loyalties lay, but each faction of magical kinfolk he was due to visit carried the risk of losing his life; if they could not determine whether he was friend or foe to them, they might just kill him outright. Vampires and werewolves on the Continent had certainly done worse to strangers who wandered into their midst. But, his double agent status granted him the freedom to declare for either Dumbledore or Voldemort, depending on where the allegiances of the magic folk he was visiting lay. He just had to play it by ear… If they kept him alive for long enough to be able to gauge it properly…

And that was all an aside to his primary mission: to find Odette.

Or to at least bring back the information Odette had... if I can't find her. Severus thought grimly. He would not have dared to think of something so negative when he was with Circe, fearing that his scepticism might somehow leak out of him. He secretly hoped Madame Lestrange was hiding in some convenient, remote little village in perhaps the Alpine mountains or the countryside around Stuttgart.

But that was something of a wild guess. After he was finished in the Carpathians, he had to pick up Odette's trail where it had last gone cold: in Cyprus. Perhaps then he could start to retrace Odette's final movements and plot the last days before her fight outside the walls of Hommehoughair... and then her disappearance.

"That's not all, Severus." Kingsley added ominously, shaking him from his speculations.

"Go on…"

"We've had intel from other Order members that Rabastan and Rodolphus Lestrange have been sent to the Continent by Voldemort to keep the new ranks of dark allies in check."

"They've been re-released from Azkaban?" Snape asked morosely.

"There was another mass breakout this morning. Still yet to reach the newspapers, so the public don't know of it just yet."

Still, I might have thought I'd have known about it...The Dark Lord failed to mention his plans in this regard to me at the last meeting. Severus thought as a deep frown spread over his face.

"Circe said that this would happen: It seems like Voldemort has finally grown bored of letting Rodolphus and Rabastan languish in prison...after they disappointed Him at the Department of Mysteries last year. The Dememtors are His allies now too, and all Voldemort had to do was snap his fingers and command them to stand down as the Azkaban's guards. Then the Dark Lord could just pluck anyone who he saw fit out of their prison cells..."

And Rabastan will be looking for his traitor wife too. Severus added inside his own head. Odette's life might depend on which one of us finds her first. Me or him.

Snape sighed heavily. He turned around one last time to stare up at Hogwarts, the amber light from the many windows giving it a warm, heavenly glow. He thought of all he was leaving behind in those walls. All he was risking to protect those inside. For the first time possibly ever he felt a gut wrenching feeling of homesickness for Hogwarts. He had never truly had a home, but perhaps home was now where Circe was.

I will come back to you, he vowed to himself once more.

"Whenever you're ready, Kingsley."

"The portkey is active. After you, Severus."

They both squared up to the mannequin arm. Kingsley looked up at Severus. Both of their faces as serious as thunder.

"Three… Two… One…"

Both reached out and touched the port key and spun away into the ether. Away from Hogwarts. Away from Circe.

And Circe, still sat on the frosty grass just outside the rickety wooden bridge, thought she heard the very faintest of pops in the night air. It may have been just her imaginings, but in that second, she felt a part of her being ripped away. A hole being punched in her chest. A physical reminder that Severus, the person woven into the very fabric of her being, was now gone. She felt numb. There was nothing to distinguish the coldness of outside to the coldness she felt within. But she no longer had Severus there to pick her off the grass and fawn over her. She had to tend to her own wounds and doctor her own hurts now. So she did so herself. On legs as shaky as a newborn deer, she forced herself up. Circe turned to leave, to head back up into the warmth of Hogwarts for what would be, she imagined, a very lonely and difficult eight weeks.