"I Can't Let You Love Me" chapter 17: Cryptic Communications



Breathing hard, Severus dropped his broom beside a tree at the apparition point in the Forbidden Forest. He forced himself to stand still and breathe deeply until his breathing rate came back to normal. He had to be calm... calm. Now, more than ever it was important he wear his "Death Eater Face" He had to remember that, as far as Voldemort and his followers were concerned, he neither liked nor trusted Phoebe. As a "loyal" death eater he would be happy that the Dark Lord had sired an heir; he must seem willing to do whatever it took to bring that child to term.

Damn good thing he had experience hiding his true feelings. Of course, now he had considerably more feelings to hide... and the stakes were considerably higher. He just hoped Jeffrey was thinking straight and wouldn't react hopefully at the sight of Snape... if he was there. With that, he touched the dark mark on his arm and was gone.

Severus recognized the dusty wreck of the Riddle Mansion immediately and felt relief. If Phoebe were here they would have no trouble returning to her location... they knew where The Riddle House was. The problem would be getting in. This place had more guarding charms on it than Hogwarts. In fact, without a dark mark on your arm you couldn't even apparate in. Snape wondered how they'd gotten Jeff in... apparate outside and walk in? If Jeff was here, of course.

He glanced to the large room to his right where a large wing-backed chair stood in front of the fire. Several death eaters stood to each side of the mantle facing the chair, waiting. Severus composed his thoughts and strode into the room. Coming around to the front of the chair he prostrated himself before Voldemort on the floor.

"You called, My Lord?" he asked, face in the dusty carpet.

"Indeed," came Voldemort's icy voice. "Stand up Snape, there is work for you to do."

Severus stood to face the Dark Lord, his face still turned, in humility, toward the carpet, "Yes my Lord, I am at your service."

"Yes you are" Voldemort noted coldly, "and you will be for some time yet. You'll need to send an owl to that wretched school requesting a leave of absence."

Oh, this was not good.

"Shall I give a reason, My Lord," Snape said as deferentially as he could manage.

"Yes, tell the old fool that runs the place that you are dealing with a medical crisis."

"Yes my Lord. Are you ill my Lord?" Snape said, feigning concern.

"No I am not" Voldemort said pointing lazily at a table against the wall, "now send your message."

Severus saw an owl was perched on the table next to a parchment and quill. He walked swiftly over, trying to think very fast. It was probably best, at this point, to simply do as he was asked. There would be time later to "pull" something.

"Headmaster," he wrote, "I will be taking an indefinite leave of absence to deal with a medical crisis. -Severus Snape."

He walked back to Voldemort and presented him with the parchment. Voldemort glanced at it and handed it back. "Send it," he commanded. Snape did as he was told, folding the parchment and attaching it to the leg of the owl and opening the window. The owl flew out into the dark night immediately. Severus closed the window and turned back toward Voldemort.

"Give him the list, Wormtail," Voldemort said to the short wizard with a silver hand. With an air of self-importance Wormtail marched over to Severus and shoved a piece of parchment at him. Severus took it but did not look down... knowing Voldemort would want him to wait for permission.

"Read it, Snape."

Severus looked down and recognized Jeffrey Barnes' handwriting. It was a list of several medicinal potions. He scanned them and looked up.

"The pantry has been converted for your use," Voldemort said, "so that you may begin brewing those immediately."

"Yes, My Lord," Snape said giving a deep bow.

"You may go." Voldemort said imperiously.

Snape left swiftly stepping into the corridor and looking for the connecting hall to the back of the house. He spied the wreck of a dining room and walked through it, knowing he'd find the kitchen (and hence the pantry) nearby. He was right. The kitchen lay just beyond the dining room at the end of a short corridor with a sideboard. The pantry was off the kitchen. It was quite large for a pantry, Snape noted. Shelves were filled with potion ingredients, measuring devices, scales, mortar and pestle, and other things necessary for potions brewing. A cauldron sat on a magical fire and several empty bottles stood waiting to be filled.

With a sigh, Snape began his work. Most of the potions were simple and could be brewed with little thought. Still, he was very careful. These potions were likely for Phoebe... to keep her alive. Jeffrey's life depended on them, too. He must be exact.

If only he could be sure they were here... that would help. Certainly the Riddle House was big enough to have them within its walls. But would Voldemort risk putting them in so obvious a location? There was a good chance there were elsewhere and the potions would be taken to them by apparition. Damn.

And, for all that, he officially didn't know what these potions were for. Voldemort hand not said. That concerned him a bit. Was Voldemort just being cautious or did he suspect Snape? If he did there was little chance he could get Jeff and Phoebe out. It also seemed he would be here for a while. There would be no chance of returning to Hogwarts to speak with Dumbledore. He'd have to find them and then find another way. Well, at least he didn't have to teach the rest of the term.

He pulled Jeffrey's list toward him and made a note on it of how much of the first potion he had brewed and also noted a simple substitution. He didn't know if Jeffrey would recognize his handwriting, too. Hopefully he would at least suspect it was him. He hoped the "obsessive attention to detail" (Barnes' words) would tip Jeffrey off if the handwriting didn't. He wanted them to know he was nearby helping as best he could.



On his first morning in the dank, cold rooms to which he had been taken Jeffrey Barnes was awakened by a Death Eater. The hooded wizard came with a crate full of filled potion bottles and the annotated list. Jeffrey took the box and set it down, pulling out the note curiously. The handwriting looked rather familiar. As he read it through, he struggled to keep his expression neutral. The writing, the phrasing, the picky detail... Severus. Dare he hope that his friend and Dumbledore's spy was here?

The Death Eater shifted and cleared his throat irritably.

"Yes, yes," Jeffrey said not bothering to smother his impatience, "I'll make out another list."

He strode over to the table set below a dirty window high in the wall. It let in just enough light for him to see. He needed to think quickly. What did he really need and how could he communicate with Severus? As he scribbled out a new list on the thin strip of parchment, it hit him. Finishing the list, he began a carefully spaced note:

Should I be needing an

ennervating solution, a

vial or two, could you

enhance an exisiting

receipe or is the potion too

uniform to be brewed in

such a way? Let me know

?

Jeffrey handed the parchment to the Death Eater and concentrated on showing no expression as the man read it. The hooded figure" Humphed" at it, turned and left. Jeffrey was left alone with his patient. He shivered as he turned toward the bed on the opposite wall. He'd have to demand a better fire or hypothermia would kill both him and Phoebe long before her pregnancy poisoned her.

He had thought that they would have treated the Witch bearing the Dark Lord's heir a bit better. She was just an incubator to them now, he mused angrily. She was going to die anyway, what did she matter? He forced himself to calm down. He slowed his breathing, his heart rate. Then he sat next to the unconscious woman and laid his hands on her shoulders.

He slowly let his consciousness enter her body to examine it. Her fever was pretty high... no danger of hypothermia until the chills started, then. The pregnancy swirled in the systems ahead of him like dirty black oil working its way across the surface of a pond. Her body was fighting hard to contain the toxins it was producing and the potions would help. She would be in a lot of pain if she awakened. Dealing with the pain would take energy she couldn't spare. He'd have to keep her under. He transferred some healing energy to repair damage done by the toxins and boost her immune system and pulled himself out.

He needed to be careful not to sap his energy or he would be no good to her. He got up and began to pull various potions from the crate. He sat Phoebe up and carefully dosed her, using his healers skill to be certain the liquids were swallowed and not inhaled into the lungs. The last potion was a sedating one that would keep her unconscious. As he settled her back down he couldn't help but shake his head.

Unless someone pulled off something spectacular this would be the last part of her life and, thanks to him, she'd be unconscious for it..



Severus had been up all night brewing the potions on Jeffrey's list. When the Death Eater had come and taken them away he'd sat down and rested his head on his hand. He'd been up all night, and been burning a great deal of energy on stress. Ceridwyn's Cauldron he was tired!

He was startled by the Death Eater's return and realized that he'd fallen asleep. Damn! The man handed him another list and kicked a crate toward him. More potion ingredients? He didn't have a chance to ask, the wizard turned and left.

He scanned the note. Yes, this was Jeffrey's writing. If only he hadn't fallen asleep! He might have gauged how long it took the Death Eater to go to Jeffrey and return. Blast! He looked at the list again. It was simple enough, and expected. The note at the bottom was strange, however.

Severus read it over several times. Jeffrey knew you didn't change an ennervating solution in any case. Uniformity? Alright, what was Jeffrey trying to say, to communicate?

He read the list again. He tried pulling out the words of things that one didn't do: add uniform? No. He knew it was there, it was right there! Why couldn't he see it?

He held the list away from him and looked at it again. Strange. Especially Jeff not fitting in the final question mark at the end of the line above... or leaving it out entirely. Wait, wait a moment. He looked down the left side of the paper and saw it. The first character of every line spelled out "Severus?" He allowed himself a small chuckle at the fact that Barnes had even managed to be sure his name was capitalized.

Alright. He needed to let Jeffrey know it was him and find out where Jeff was. Too much to put into the first character of every line. How, then?

He realized he needed to calm down and think very clearly. Well, the best way to do that was to brew something. He looked at the list again and pulled the carton the wizard had left toward him. Supplies. Ingredients. Good.

When the first potion was simmering he sat back and thought. "Where are you" even "Where R U" was what he needed to ask. That would probably fit using Jeffrey's system. He took up his quill:

"What other things may I do to

help you with your project?

ennervating potions

require separate brewing

each potion will be done as

requested. I have the

understanding. I have the

solutions simmering."



When Jeffrey turned over his list it was all he could do to NOT sigh in relief. He saw the word "where" along the left margin. It took a moment for him to realize "r" and "u" were intended as entire words. He almost grinned at the fact Severus had "signed" the note "solutions simmering" S.S. Where was he? That would be easy to explain. No code required.

He walked over to the table and turned a long strip of paper sideways and wrote.

"I am concerned about the shelf life of the potions in this basement. Do we need to do anything special to preserve them?"

This time Severus kept track of how long it took the Wizard delivering the notes and potions to return. Not long at all. Then he read the note. The basement. The basement here. The use of a "we" suggested Phoebe was with him. Now he knew where they were. That was the easy part. The hard part would be getting them all out right under the nose of all those Death Eaters and Voldemort himself.