As usual, I have returned to you all. Are you sick of me yet :p
Thanks for all the awesome reviews and feedback as always. For those of you who are just joining us who have given feedback for earlier chapters; your advice and feedback is well received and appreciate, so don't think I am ignoring you if I don't address it or change things. It would be a little much to ask my readers to go back almost fifty chapters to reread things after I changed them, that's all.
Get ready guys! Someone some of you might have hoped to never see is making an appearance!
If Someone Cared Enough
Chapter Fifty-Six: Extreme Measures
Severus took a deep breath, readying his resolve. Standing over the dirty, drunken vagrant in the alleyway, Severus sneered down at the man. Steeling his senses against the barrage of unpleasant odors, the scent of filth and cheap whiskey, he waited patiently for the man to regather his wits. It took a few minutes for the drunk to fully come around, having only been roused moments prior by a kick to his leg Severus doled out with disdain.
When the man finally looked up at who woke him, blinking groggily the last remnants of a drunken stupor, Severus raised his wand and pointed it levelly between the man's eyes.
"Legilimens," Severus said forcefully.
In an instant, Severus was thrust forward into the man's mind, a swirling mass of tangled emotions and racing, scattered thoughts. They chattered and shouted at him from all sides, a myriad of chaos that made it hard to focus. Severus pushed onward against the current of disorganized recollections relentlessly. It took him a minute to fully direction his attention to one memory at a time, but eventually he managed to tune out all the noise to work through them one at a time.
Honing in one thought at random, he rummaged through the drunkard's memories as if leafing through a scrapbook, not really looking for anything of consequence.
He saw an image of the man tumbling down a flight of stairs, confused and disoriented, a half empty bottle crashing to the ground beside him. He witnessed the man barely clinging to consciousness in the hallway of a tattered home while a baby cried in the background and a woman sobbed, the man's shame the only emotions penetrating the drunken haze before the front door slammed shut.
Severus saw the man crouched behind a car, despair and longing swelling inside the memory as he watched a woman with a young child walk home with groceries on the other side of the street. Severus felt the man's sadness and resentment at the absence of a ring on the woman's finger.
Another memory sprung forward, a frenzied scene on a war torn battlefield. A younger version of the man trudged through the mud, pride and fatigue fighting for dominance among the arrogance of an optimistic youth. The imaged shifted to the man alone at the back of a funeral procession, an empty bottle clasped in his fist as he stared hollowly at the casket.
The memory that followed was more recent, the man closer to his current age. Severus watched as water swirled and churned beneath the bridge the man stood on, a near suffocating sense of fear and hopelessness hung cloyingly in the air. The man brought one foot up, hovering over the open air hesitantly out in front of him. After an agonizing amount of time, he pulled back and climbed back over the railing onto solid ground, the memory choking Severus with a surge of regret and self-loathing.
Severus pulled out of the man's mind with a gasp, stumbling back a few feet. Dizzy, overcome by the lingering emotions not his own, Severus swallowed back the bile in his throat, taking deep, gasping breaths. Steadying himself, Severus spared the drunk a glance, noting he'd slipped back into alcohol-fueled unconsciousness.
Severus took a moment to regain composure, running over the thoughts he'd seen inside the homeless man's mind. The man looked far more pitiable now, less contemptible.
Sighing, Severus fished through his pocket for some spare change. Dropping all he had next to the man, he headed home, making mental note of his findings.
This had been his most successful attempt yet. Normally, the mind was harder to breach and near impossible to sort through without severe strain on Severus's part. The memories inside were often blurry and muddled as he struggled to separate them, experiences and thoughts mixing together and distorting individual moments. This was the first time Severus was able to peer into some distinct memories, up until he was pushed out by the man's meager defenses.
Severus found it easier to work with vagrants and drunks, their minds more open and unguarded due to drugs or liquor. He'd read that using legilimency on a resisting mind caused the target pain and mental strain, so it was better to work with those so unaware of their surroundings he could slip in with ease. It came with the unwanted drawback of less coherent recollections, but Severus was only looking to practice right now so he didn't need the memories to properly recall an event.
It was actually quite interesting to how the distortion effected the mind's interpretation. Some of events he witnessed were pretty obvious and clear-cut, but the person's mind clouded itself with contradictory emotions, convictions made up of absolution of guilt in matters they were clearly at fault.
Severus tried to push aside the guilt he felt each time he made a successful connection. The memories he viewed were private, and given the circumstances of the poverty stricken, weary people he worked on, they were full of pain and hardships. Given his own reluctance to share his harrowing past with others, the hypocrisy of this invasion ate away at him. Occlumency came in handy for pushing the more prevalent feelings away, but it was still there at the back of his mind. He knew he'd loath to have someone privy to his most private thoughts, especially those of him at his weakness, so the very act of him doing this in turn made morbid fascination give way to wretchedness.
Lily certainly would be against these experiments, but then, she was the reason he started this. With their return to Hogwarts approaching in only a few days time, Severus needed to bolster his defenses. He couldn't rightly trust Rosier and his ilk wouldn't try anything against Lily or him. He could handle himself in a duel just fine, so he was confident he could take whatever they dished out, but Lily was a different story. Even if she won a duel, the very thought of her facing someone as devious as Rosier filled Severus with dread. If he truly wanted to keep her safe, he would need to preemptively put a stop to any plan against her.
Chances are Rosier was versed in at least some moderate Occlumency, his family probably wishing to prevent Legilimency wielding Auror—or headmaster—exposing their ties to You-Know-Who. Therefore, Severus would need to focus on Rosier's underlings, people he instructed on his plans.
Ever the clever Slytherin, Rosier collected an assortment of 'friends' who were unremarkable and overlooked. Dismissed as little more than mindless social climbers Rosier kept around to boost his ego with their praise, they made perfect followers few would suspect to be trusted with pertinent information. They were Severus's prime means of obtaining any secrets Rosier had that could prove harmful to Lily or anyone else and Severus fully intended to exploit that. There was also the chance Rosier knew where Avery and Mulciber were; something Severus was very keen on finding out.
Of course, he'd have to keep it secret from Lily. He could understand why someone who went through what she did would object to the invasion of someone's mind without consent, but honestly, he saw little other options to ensure her safety. Rosier would surely be planning something. If the threat Lucius made were genuine, he'd no doubt employ allies on the inside to goad and pressure Severus. Targeting those he cared about would be the most obvious way to hurt him, as Severus could handle what happened to himself; he was less capable of standing any harm coming to Lily.
Severus shook his head; it wasn't like he'd hurt anyone doing this. Those vagrants hardly felt his presence. If anything, most just seemed confused after he pulled memories to the forefront of their minds, wondering why they would remember such a thing at random. Technically Severus was preventing harm in the grand scheme of things.
Nothing Rosier or his friends could do was good. After Avery and Mulciber's actions, Severus could trust anyone sided with You-Know-Who to have a shred of restraint or ethical qualms with brutality or depravity. They were all potential predators in his eyes and he couldn't trust any of them to not try and complete what Avery started.
Ever since Avery's escape, Lily's nightmares had returned, bringing with it many nights of her clinging to Severus with a vice-like grip in her sleep. The bags under her eyes that she often times tried to hide with makeup grew more pronounced as time went on and it ate away at Severus to see her in this state. She'd made a valiant effort of hiding it from her family, but Severus could see right through her; she was scared and she had every right to be.
Being home should bring most people comfort—provided their home had never been like Severus's, but Lily was far more frightened to sleep in her own bed because it was just a muggle house standing between her and the Death Eaters. Even with the new wards, she didn't feel safe.
Severus knew Lily had started to sleep better at Hogwarts mainly due to the knowledge that no one could just wander into the girl's dorm at night due to various enchantments in play, ones created by the school itself and therefore no magic could override it. The boys' dorms were not so heavily guarded for whatever bizarre reason, but the ridiculous stair slides and barriers in play for the girls' dorms safeguarded the ladies inside, providing Lily with the peace of mind to drift off. But that provided a new problem; the security Lily felt within Hogwarts would surely cause her to lower her guard, make her vulnerable.
So Severus would have to be her shield. Call it chauvinistic if you wanted, but Severus would rather Lily be angry at his lack of faith in her defending herself than leave her to the snakes in his House.
Severus wouldn't fail Lily; not this time. She'd been hurt too much already and breaking a few morals would keep her safe, so be it.
Severus got home in time for lunch, arriving just as Lily was helping her sister set the table.
"Welcome back," Lily greeted with a smile; it was good to see Lily smiling again, "We made sandwiches."
"I'd be delighted to have one," Severus said, shrugging off his coat, "Because I'm famished."
"Did you have a nice walk?" Lily asked.
Severus nodded. Several times that week, he'd told Lily he wanted to clear his head, to sort out his feelings on matters such as his mother, basically get his thought in order. In actuality he was go off to practice Legilimency, but the less Lily knew the better.
"Let me just wash up," Severus said, heading upstairs while Lily and Petunia put lunch on the table. Bypassing the loo entirely, Severus ducked into his room and went over to his trunk.
He pulled an innocuous looking notebook from amongst his school supplies, the place Lily was least likely to look as she always asked first before borrowing his notes. Flipping open to the most recent page, Severus grabbed a pen and jotted some quick observations down regarding his legilimency attempts for the day.
'Subject 26,' he wrote, 'Fleeting consciousness, difficult to rouse. Severely inebriated. Defenses easy to bypass, memories harder to discern.'
'Took two and a half minutes to concentrate,' Severus added, 'Half a minute less than previous attempt with subject 25. Singling out most prominent memory allows for focus; can proceed to more reclusive memories from there.'
Severus flipped to the front of his book, looking over various theories and information he and his friends had acquired about the diadem. He had no doubt legilimency might prove useful in that endeavor too. Being able to delve into a person's mind could provide him with the necessary information on the diadem and if Tom Riddle had any connection to it. He certainly seemed suspicious enough; swaying the board of governors to expel Hagrid without a proper investigation on Myrtle's body to confirm a cause of death.
Hagrid seemed relatively convinced Riddle had merely acted as a concerned student who made a knee-jerk assumption, but Severus couldn't help but find Riddle's motives questionable. Riddle came off more as an opportunist he found the perfect scapegoat in Hagrid. He if truly had the school's best interests at heart, why would he wait until a student was killed to acted on supposed suspicions against the half-giant?
Had Riddle been the Hogwarts alumn whom Rowena said Dumbledore refused to hire for the DADA position? Dumbledore clearly didn't believe Hagrid to blame for Myrtle's death, hence providing him a home and a job after his explusion, so that maay have meant he doubted Riddle's assertions at least...or suspected him.
Severus would need to probe deeper into Riddle's time at Hogwarts. Perhaps Nesme could ask a few professors about him. She was the least suspicious of them, so most would honestly believe her to be asking out of harmless curiosity over the award she saw in the trophy case.
With that plan in mind, Severus stashed his journal back in the trunk, stopped in the loo to wash his hands, and headed back downstairs.
"So what sort of sandwiches have you made?" Severus inquired when he returned to the table.
"Watercress sandwiches," Petunia answered proudly, "They're fancy."
"And tiny," Lily commented teasingly, "You can eat five or six of them and still not be full." She dodged a swat Petunia made at her head.
Willow laughed as she and Hank sat down, having returned from working in the garden, "There's nothing wrong with eating light. Finger sandwiches are healthy."
"Here's something you may not know about finger sandwiches," Hank said picking up of the finger foods, "You put more than one of them together-you've got a sandwich!" He then proceeded to bite into both sandwiches at once.
"Lovely table manners, daddy," Petunia deadpanned, "Truly impeccable."
Hank grinned at her, "I think I'm ready to meet the queen."
Lily and Severus snickered while Petunia looked quite unimpressed.
"So," Willow began, spreading her napkin across her lap as Petunia began to serve everyone, "What do you all have planned for the afternoon?"
"I've got second shift at work today," Petunia informed her mother, "I'll be home by eleven."
"Severus and I are going to the Piroshki Tea House," Lily said, "Albina makes the best chocolate chai tea for me. It's not even on the menu; she whips it up special for long time customers."
Severus had been indulging Lily's whims over the past few days in hopes of seeing the old Lily come out of shell again. From snowball fights to ice skating—which he was terrible at, mind you—Severus did whatever popped into Lily's mind. She still occasional resorted to gloom, but she'd begun to smile freely again, laugh openly.
Willow smiled, "Sounds like a fun time. Got any plans after that?"
"We're heading over to this herbal shop down the street afterwards, get some ingredients for treating colds and flus. Don't want to get sick right before starting the new school term."
Severus nodded, "While muggle medicine trumps magic in some medical fields—surgeries, transplants, whatnot—when it comes to more mundane things like colds and fevers, magic tends to do better. Muggle herbal remedies have some effective uses despite doctors' opinions on them. When someone with magic makes them, they do the job far more effectively than cough syrup."
"See if you can pick something up for a sore throat," Petunia instructed, "The cold air has been really irritating mine. But nothing mint; not a fan of the taste."
"We'll see what we can find," Severus acquiesced.
"If Tuney if working, then who's going to make me dinner?" Hank asked playfully.
"You could make it yourself if you were capable of doing more than burning toast," Willow quipped.
"Why would I ever need to learn how to cook when I have so many helpers here," Hank asked, eyeing Severus and Lily with amusement, "After all, what's the point of having children if you can't make them do chores?"
"When have I ever given any indication I could cook?" Severus asked wryly.
Hank shrugged, "Can't be that much different than potions, right? You measure out ingredients, add them accordingly, watch the timer, and follow instructions. Voila! Cooking."
"And yet you burn water," Severus snarked.
Hank raised his hands, "Like I said, you're the potions expert, not me."
"Again, excelling at potions doesn't mean I can cook," Severus pointed out.
"Oh, sure you can," Lily chimed in, "You told me the reason you can chop up potions ingredients so fine is from years chopping vegetables for stews and soups growing up."
"Okay, so I can chop potatoes and boil water," Severus admitted with a snort, "Not exactly culinary marvels."
"Still food isn't it?" Hank asked with a grin.
Severus gave Hank a bland look.
"How about we bring back some Pelmeni and boiled cabbage from Piroshki's?" he bargained.
Hank stuck his hand out enthusiastically, "Deal!"
{page break}
"Pretty quiet round here at night," Simone observed, glancing around the restaurant, "I like it."
It was just after eight in the evening and the dinner rush was dying down at the little restaurant Petunia worked in. Stragglers sat patting full bellies at some sparse few tables while the majority of diners had long gone home. As the activity died down in the dining room, it livened up in the bar area, college kids and married couples coming to gulp down a few glasses to take off the edge of their day.
Simone sat with Thea at the bar, coffee cups in hand.
"I'll never understand how I went so long without knowing what coffee is," Simone said, cradling her cup adoringly, "It's lovely."
"And bitter," Petunia remarked, setting a plate of hash down in front of her friend, "Like you."
Thea giggled, "Simone likes her coffee black as the depths of her soul."
"Careful, Thea," Simone warned, "Or next time you put sugar in your drink, you'll find it's salt instead."
Thea did her able best to stifle her snickers, looking away evasively.
"Isn't it a little late to be having coffee?" the bartender asked in passing.
"Its morning somewhere," Simone quipped.
The bartender shrugged and walk down the bar.
"Hard to believe you've never had coffee before we met," Petunia said, taking advantage of her short break to sit with her friends, "Didn't they have it at Hogwarts?"
Simone nodded, "For older students, yes it was provided with breakfast, but I never had much interest in the stuff with such little knowledge I have of it. Coffee is more a muggle thing; a muggle invention. Most purebloods have never heard of it within the wizarding community. Sure my parents would have had no trouble with it's origins, but they've been all about tea since they moved here when I was young. Thinks it makes them more English."
"What?" Petunia questioned with a laugh.
Simone shrugged, "Mom's French and Dad's from South Africa. They feel like fishes out of water in Britain. They try to fit in more by doing the whole British thing; tea time, biscuits, the works really."
"Why did your folks move here again?" Petunia asked.
Simone took a relishing sip of her coffee, contemplating the question, "Well, mom thought Beauxbatons would make me too vain and prideful like it did a lot of her classmates and they only recently started allowing black students at the school in Dad's country. Before that, you had to be taught at home by your family. My parents wanted something more inclusive and it was either this or America, and they only just got rid of Jim Crow laws over there about 12 years ago, so mom didn't feel it would be a good fit."
"Must be rough to have some many places excluding you," Petunia mused, "The only place I ever felt unwelcome was the wizarding world, but just about everywhere else has no restrictions for me. Well, except for sexism."
"Men fear our mighty loins," Simone declared, clinking glasses with an unprepared Thea, who nearly spilled her drink, "But I get what you're saying. If you have the right skin color and something between your legs, the world's essentially your oyster. But don't let that get you down; working harder for the rights we deserve means we don't take things for granted. We aren't spoiled with privilege, so we aren't jaded and callous. We've got bigger hearts than those blinded by life catering to them."
"I suppose you're right," Petunia agreed, "Anyway, I'm surprised to see you here, Thea. I thought your parents were keeping you home this break."
"Her folks are out for the evening," Simone supplied, "I've been sneaking her out all break whenever they're busy, letting her cut loose some. Exploiting a little loophole; they told their house elves she couldn't go anywhere with friends. They never said she couldn't go anywhere with other house elves."
Petunia grinned, "Minks."
Simone nodded, "She's been a real life saver lately."
"Waitress," called out an impatient voice, "Waitress!"
Petunia looked around. Of the few remaining diners in the restaurant, there was a couple sitting in one of the tables situated closest to the bar. The couple were rather beefy and large, both sporting broad shoulders and think middles. The woman who had been calling out was purple faced and portly, a dusting of hair across her upper lip too noticeable to ignore. Petunia noted she had several empty beer glasses around her already.
"Waitress!" the woman all but shouted, "Blast it all, I know you can hear me!"
It took Petunia a moment to realize that the woman was talking to her.
"Excuse me," Petunia said to her friends, heading off to the table.
Simone watched her leave, her eyes narrowing on the loud, unpleasant woman waving at Petunia.
"May I help you," Petunia asked when she reached the table.
"It's about time," the woman complained, "We've been trying to get your attention for hours. Here," she thrust an empty breadbasket into Petunia's hands, "Refill that."
Petunia took a deep breath and set the basket back down on the table, "With all due respect, I believe Candace is the waitress in charge of this section. If you wish for me to go get her—"
"I don't bloody care if 'Candace' works this table," the woman snarled, "I'm telling you to do it!"
"That isn't my job," Petunia began with feigned politeness.
"The hell it isn't your job," the woman boomed, "I'm the customer, you're supposed to accommodate me."
The woman jabbed the man besides her with her elbow, "Vernon, can you believe this woman?"
The man, Vernon, had been doing a rather impressive job of eating his chicken primavera without giving the conversation an ounce of notice. Large as his companion, he had a thick neck and equally purple face. His dark, bushy mustache was more impressive than the woman's but overall, the pair looked strikingly alike.
When the woman addressed him, Vernon looked up startled, a bit put out to be interrupted from his meal. Seeing his companions upset state, he followed her gaze, intending to unleash his own bit of venom on whoever had upset her.
When his irritated gaze fell on Petunia, however, the look wiped clean off his face at the sight of the tall, willowy woman with flashing dark eyes and wavy blonde hair.
"Yes, Vernon," Petunia said, addressing the man by the name the woman revealed to her, "Can you believe this woman?" she pointed at his dining partner.
The woman's face purpled even further.
"How dare you," she cried in outrage, "You call yourself a waitress?"
All proper pretenses gone, Petunia glared at the obnoxious customer, "No. I call myself the Sous Chef. As in the one who prepares the meals, makes masterpieces out of common ingredients, and made the dish you so greedily inhaled early this evening. And above all," she leaned down in the woman's face, "I do not serve the belligerent."
"Now see here," Vernon began, coming to the now stutteringly furious woman's defense.
"No, you see here," Petunia said with authority, "Our establishment reserves the right to deny service to the disorderly, especially those who are drunk. This woman had had more than enough drinks to fit that role to a tee. I will not be talked down to like a servant, nor will I subject the wait staff to such mistreatment."
Vernon leaned back from Petunia, clearly not used to anyone but his female companion talking to him so forcefully. A flush spread across his face.
"Mistreatment?" the woman squawked, "For expecting the staff to do their jobs."
Petunia glared at her unmercifully, "No, for expecting the staff to tolerate your abuse."
"Now that's sort of an over exaggeration," Vernon, "Marge was just asking for more bread."
Petunia directed her glare to Vernon, cowing the man, "Marge was demanding I wait on her hand and foot. Forgive me if I find such behavior appalling."
"Well then if you won't do it, send someone else," Marge ordered, "Where's our server? That Candace tramp."
"Candace is serving more than just your table," Petunia stated, waving away a curly brunette server so that she wouldn't have to return to this horrible table, "But even if she were available, I wouldn't allow her to come back here and be treated this way. She works hard at her job, as do the rest of our staff, and if a pamper stuffed shirt like you can't understand the value of hard work—"
"Now wait just a minute," Vernon cut off, "I can certainly appreciate hard work. I'm a working man myself."
"Then show some respect for others," Petunia said flatly, "If you have a problem you can take it to the manager, but I assure you that he won't be too keen on working with someone who insults the staff, seeing as how your server Candace is his daughter."
Marge growled, "Enough of this place. Vernon, you handle the check; I'm leaving." With one last contemptuous look at Petunia, Marge stormed out of the restaurant.
Petunia signaled Candace over with the bill, "If that will be all, sir?" She walked away before he could respond.
"What a fiery display," Simone chuckled as Petunia returned to the bar, "I'm impressed."
"Lily's temper must be rubbing off on me," Petunia said, sitting down with a sigh, "I'm usually more patient with the customers."
"Nothing wrong with giving someone an attitude adjustment," Simone stated, "If you hadn't she would've just taken her bad mood out on some other poor girl."
"Still," Petunia fretted, "Maybe I was a bit shorter than necessary. She might have thought I was a waitress because she saw me bring you two your food."
"To share with us," Simone countered, "And so what if she made an honest mistake; she dug her own grave when she decided to act like a shrew."
"Maybe…" Petunia agreed, halfhearted.
"Don't you dare second guess yourself," Simone warned, "You stood up for yourself. You have every right to not be pushed around."
"The customer's not always right, Petunia," Thea offered kindly, "She was being very rude."
"And I don't think she was fully drunk yet," Simone added, "Merlin knows how much worse she would have got. I had half a mind to hex her."
"You could actually get away with that now too," Thea said.
Simone gave her friends a toothy grin, "It feels great to be seventeen."
"Pardon me."
All three girls looked up as Vernon came shuffling over.
"The check," he said hesitantly, presenting the payment to Petunia.
"Thank you," was Petunia's clipped reply, "Enjoy your evening." She turned back to her friends.
"If I may," Vernon said, reclaiming her attention, "I find it rather impressive that you've been promoted so far at such a young age. A sous chef at eighteen—"
"Nineteen," Petunia corrected, "Though I fail to see how it is any business of—"
"I only meant," Vernon cut in, "That it is a very admirable accomplishment. You're practically running the place."
"I wouldn't go that far,' Petunia said.
"But I would," Vernon stated, "You command respect; that's nothing to sneeze at."
"How about an apology for your friend's awful behavior," Simone said suddenly.
Vernon flushed, looking away, "Yes, I suppose my sister can be rather abrasive."
"That's one way of putting it," Petunia said.
"Still not an apology," Simone called.
Vernon pursed his lips at Simone, before turning back to Petunia, "Anyway, I would like to apologize for my sister's behavior. The food was wonderful."
Vernon looked down at his feet for a minute.
"Perhaps, I can return sometime to sample more of the menu," he suggested.
"Without your sister?" Petunia challenged.
"Of course," Vernon agreed all too readily, "Well I'll…I'll be sure to come back here sometime soon."
He backed away, casting furtively glances at Petunia, managing a clumsy wave before turning and walking out.
Petunia looked back at her friends, "Well, that was strange."
Thea started giggling while Simone just shook her head.
"Oh you poor, poor girl," Simone bemoaned.
"What?" Petunia asked.
"Petunia, he likes you!" Thea cried out before dissolving into laughter.
"What?!" Petunia almost shrieked, looking back over her should to where Vernon once stood, "That's impossible."
"Seems Vernon likes bossy women," Simone observed, "I'd say you made quite the impression on him."
"B-but," Petunia stammered, "That can't be right. His sister was so rude—and he was defending her!"
"And you knocked all of his arguments out of the park," Simone pointed out, "You put him and his sister in their place; something I imagine he doesn't see too often where his sister is concerned. She seems like the sort who usually runs the show."
"You're both being ridiculous," Petunia insisted, "I barely spoke to him. I just scolded him."
"And he liked it," Simone teased.
"You're crazy," Petunia said firmly.
Simone reigned in her mirth, "Hey, I'm not saying you have to go out with the guy. Or to not go out with him; your choice, really. But it seems like he may be taken with you and if he's going to be bossed around by anyone, it might as well be someone who's heart is in the right place and not his bitchy sister. She'd just steer him more down the path of pigheadedness."
Petunia huffed, "Well it doesn't matter because I doubt he's actually coming back. He was just being polite."
"I don't know," Simone disagreed, "He doesn't strike me as the type to say something just to be nice. If he gives a compliment, he means it."
"Either way, it must be flattering," Thea suggested, "He clearly thinks you're attractive. The look on his face when he saw you said it all."
"Now I know you're crazy," Petunia said with a sniff, gathering up her friends plates.
"Is it so hard to believe a man might like you?" Simone asked with a smirk, "What's the matter, scared to get a boyfriend?"
Petunia's blushed, "If you're both so hung up on dating, why don't you get boyfriends?"
"Men are icky!" Simone cried childishly.
The trio stared in dead seriousness at each other for a few moments before erupting in laughter.
"Get home before you both turn into pumpkins," Petunia said, chuckling as she carried the dishes away.
"I still only partially get that reference!" Simone called after her as her friend disappeared into the kitchen.
{page break}
Severus tapped his pen against his notebook contemplatively. He'd been working through a few theoretical possibilities and still found only half of his ideas were even probable.
Crossing out another theory, he spared a glance for the spell written neatly in the margin.
Sectumsempra…
It was strongest spell in Severus's arsenal, but ever since Avery revealed he knew it as well, using it would be less of the edge Severus desired in dire circumstances. He'd witnessed enough duels in his day to know that two people throwing the same exact spell back and forth at each other provided little advantage to either side; they would both be expecting it and know how to block it if need be. Considering the usefulness of it for offense, Avery would be expecting Severus to use it and already have prepared to parry it.
If Severus didn't use it at all, then he'd still be in hot water up against Avery or anyone else who the little sneak had taught it to. Given the curse's propensity for maximum damage and difficulty healing, any Death Eater with a brain would be dishing it out at any given moment. With it being Severus's most powerful spell to date, he didn't exactly have anything else in his repertoire to counter it and over power his foes.
That left Severus with little choice but to either make an entirely new spell—an enormous undertaking in so little time given he had no idea when and if Avery or his friends would strike—or alter that which he already had. So naturally, Severus chose the latter.
The trouble with altering or improving upon his spell was that having made the curse in the first place had not been an exact science. Call it a 'happy accident' or what have you, but the original development of the spell was based on pure conjecture and countless failed attempts. The successful end result had seemed almost a fluke when Severus managed to create the right incantation. So altering the dynamics or elements of the spell was like running blind through the woods. He honestly had no idea where to start.
How ever he changed the incantation would need to create the desired effect, but without altering the level of damage produced. He wanted to keep the original intent of his curse, but with added effects, not effects that took the place of the previous ones. He still wanted the curse to produce many substantial wounds and be exceedingly difficult to heal with normal means. But he needed something to make the spell…more. More what? He didn't know; he just knew he needed his curse to do more for him in some way than whatever it did for Avery. He needed an advantage. Something to catch Avery off guard or be hard to block, perhaps, or maybe something more lethal.
Severus circled his current theory, a potential addition to the incantation that hopefully wouldn't alter the potency. Out of all the theories he'd work through, this one seemed the most probable for success. He'd need to attempt it somewhere safe to see the results, but so far it had worked itself out on paper rather well.
Spell work was trickery than many realized. Most would assume it was simply a matter of stringing together words expressing the desired effect and keeping your mind focus on the intent. It made sense why people thought that; the Latin incantations used in most spells tended to have straightforward translations. Aqua Erecto: Water Erupts; immobulus: unmoving.
But simply speaking certain phrases with intent was not enough to actually give life to such spells. It took intricate, careful constructing of magic to design. Precise wand movements channel magic in the proper sequence necessary for every spell. You didn't just wave a wand willy nilly and have it produce whatever you shouted.
That's why Severus initial discovery of Sectumsempra was so surprising. He'd come up with the wand movement instinctual, after hours of carefully thought out moves and gestures had failed. Ironic really, that the one time he should stop thinking and just act, the very move he needed was created. Unsurprisingly, it was thoughts of the Marauders and their daily torments that guided his hand in the slashing gesture needed to weave his magic and intent into the incantation.
Severus circled his current idea once again. It held a lot of promise and he believed he had the movements worked out. It would require a variation on the previous movement; carrying the downward slash horizontally and thrusting forward. Hopefully it would create the redirection he was aiming for.
"Cogitatia…" Severus mumbled to himself. He glanced at the mirror above his dresser and grinned.
He almost had it.
So Severus is dabbling in more ethically questionable magic. That can only end well...right?
It is hard to write about Legilimency because it is difficult to come up with a description of how one would go about picking through ones mind. Sort of like trying to write how Superman controls the speed of flight...I mean does he just holds his arms out farther in front and concentrate really hard to go faster?
The unprepared mind is easier to enter than a prepared one, so it makes sense for Severus to pick muggles who are not truly with their wits about them, one because they are so open and two because they are lacking in making and therefore not suspecting or on guard for mind magic. A lot of people tend to write Severus as some unbelievable prodigy in fics and while he was no doubt talented and more skilled than most, he isn't super powered. It's almost like some give him god like powers where he is perfect at everything. I wanted a Severus who had to work had to get anywhere, so he has to start small.
I'll be honest, I have been debating introducing Vernon at all, and I'm still on the fence about which way I'll go with him. He sure as hell is an ass, so I won't change much, but he did seem to truly love Petunia in canon, to the point that he not only didn't turn tail when faced with her 'unnatural' family members like Lily, but also stuck around throughout all of the upheaval caused by magic and housing Wizarding Britian's most sought after wizard. Harry was technically only Petunia's responsibility due to the blood protection. Vernon could have easily ducked out when he realize they would be stuck caring for the child. He was so outright against magic and yet stayed with Petunia when he had no actual obligation to stay and help raise her nephew (not that you can call what they did 'raising'). So he clearly loved Petunia through thick and thin. A part of me wonders if he could be willing to put up with magic this time around because she matters more to him than normalcy.
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