Wishes

By: Airelle Vilka

Chapter 22 ~ White Bumblebee

A/N: The title is a translation of Albus Dumbledore's name, in case some of you didn't know. :)

            Whatever plans Severus Snape may have had on his mind, he was keeping them mum.  Before Airelle knew it, another two long months hurtled by, and there was silence from both sides.  Neither Lord Voldemort nor Dumbledore had summoned the Potions Master for a little chat concerning the Yule Ball or the Valentine's Day attacks.  However much Airelle disliked the idea, she almost wished for Voldemort to make contact with Snape and provide a clue or some information.  But there was absolutely nothing new as the Easter holidays approached, and Airelle was beginning to get nervous.

            This, however, did not seem to be the case with the rest of the school.  Now that Delilah's room was doubly protected and Neville was being watched (much to his dismay, the security trolls even followed him to the bathroom), most of the professors seemed to think that no one would dare make a move.  Even Dumbledore had regained much of his light-heartedness; but Airelle was far from worry-free.  The missing notebook that Alica and Tracy had taken remained an important piece of the puzzle that did not fit.  And also, there was that Sirius Black issue…

            These, and other, thoughts were what preoccupied the Illusions professor's brain as there came a change in weather.  February melted into March, then April; the forest and grounds around the castle were in full bloom; and, as before, the students were cheery.

            Airelle knew better.  Her problem lay in piecing the whole tale together.  But a crucial part – something – was absent, and Airelle hoped that Snape's plans involved uncovering that something.  She chose to remain in denial about the fact that they didn't even know what they were looking for.  One thing was fairly certain – they'd know when they'd find it.

            But in the meantime, while her best friend and lover plotted, Airelle had to try and focus more on her classes.  No matter what anyone said, being a teacher was twenty times more difficult than being a student.  Thankfully, most of her pupils had performed exceptionally on their mid-year exams in January, and those who had not were catching up.  With all of her workload, Airelle eventually found that she was going to collapse under her own mental weight if she did not receive some help.  So, it was with a half-inquiry, half-plea that Airelle Vilka made her way to Albus Dumbledore's office on a Tuesday morning in April.

            "Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans!" she announced, but the stone gargoyle guarding the entrance did not move.  Yawning (for it was still very early), Airelle thought hard.  What was that blasted password again?  She'd been in Dumbledore's office on numerous occasions before, including prior to the Yule Ball, but he'd obviously changed it since that time.

            "Erm… Chocolate Frogs?" she tried.  Nothing.

            Frustrated, Airelle kept calling out different things the number of which could've been compiled for a list of every confection known to wizards.

            "Gadlee's Giggling Ice-Cream!  Blood-flavored lollipops!"

            Instantly, the gargoyle sprang aside, leaving Airelle to stare at the empty passageway in shock.

            "That was the password?" she muttered, stepping through and onto a spiral staircase that was moving up like a Muggle escalator.  "Sheesh, I thought Dumbledore hated those…"

            Finally, the stairs brought her to a halt in front of a gigantic oak door with a gleaming brass knocker.  Raising it, the professor was just about to strike when—

            "Good morning, Airelle," said Dumbledore, opening the door and nearly causing her to topple back down the staircase in astonishment.  "Won't you come in?  I've been expecting you."

            Why am I not surprised? thought Airelle, and smiled at him.  "Thank you, Headmaster," she replied, and entered the round office.  Fawkes, Dumbledore's beautiful pet phoenix, ruffled his crimson-and-gold feathers in his cage gently.  Airelle grinned at the greeting.

            "Come, make yourself comfortable," gestured the elder wizard, seating himself at his desk.  Obligingly, Airelle put herself in a chair opposite him.

            "So, what shall we talk about?" he asked pleasantly.  Airelle paused.

            "Headmaster, I…"

            "Would you like some tea before we begin?" asked Dumbledore, holding up a mug.  "I had it imported from China last week."

            "Certainly, why not?" she answered, coughing slightly.

            With a wave of Dumbledore's wand, the teapot floated over and poured the hot liquid into Airelle's mug.  She took a sip and stared at him.

            "Ahem…" The perusing presence of the Headmaster's twinkling gaze on her was unsettling, but she tried not to cast her eyes down.  After all, it would look like she was hiding something.  And hide things, she did, that was certain.

            Dumbledore drummed his fingers on the desk and said, "I understand you need an extra hand to help you with the rest of the year."

            "Yes, sir," she replied, drinking some more tea.  It felt oddly comforting.  "After the Christmas break, especially.  Now I understand how Professor Lupin felt about needing an assistant… I think I may need one, too.  Not that I'm incompetent of doing it on my own," she added quickly, seeing that the wizard was looking at her intently, "but it would be a great help to me and the students.  I could teach them much more quickly if I had a… partner."

            "Do none of the professors in the school satisfy you?" he asked.  "Or do you wish to hire someone from outside?"

            "Well," began Airelle, crossing her fingers behind her back for luck, "I understand, Headmaster, the danger of bringing a stranger into Hogwarts, especially during a turbulent time like this… with Lord Volde—I mean, You-Know-Who—"

            "It is all right, Airelle, call him by his name," Dumbledore interjected, and Airelle nodded.

            "Very well, then… with Voldemort resurfacing and gaining power… I beg your pardon for being blunt, sir, but I believe the faculty and staff of the school is working full-time, and I do not wish to take away from their careers with my own problems."

            "What do you propose we do?"

            Airelle thought about it.  "Perhaps… perhaps I can contact some of my old friends, and see if they could help me.  They are all able Aurors, and—"

            "Airelle," said Dumbledore, leaning forward slightly, "you know that we need those able Aurors at the Ministry."

            She sighed.  He was right; with Fudge still denying the fact of Voldemort's return, the Ministry of Magic needed at least some people who'd be aware and ready.  Airelle had informed everyone she could of the danger, and to take them away from the battlefield was not only selfish, but also perilous to the wizarding community as a whole.

            "Yes, sir," she replied slowly, looking down into her mug and watching the sugar swirl in it.  "I know.  Forgive me."

            "There is no need to apologize," Dumbledore smiled.  "I am aware that you have been uneasy as of late, and understand your worries perfectly.  Delilah Haze shall be safe, I assure you.  Focus on your classes… but if you need help, I shall provide you with this advice – try and enlist the help of your brightest students, such as the prefects… I would suggest—"

            "Hermione Granger," finished Airelle, setting the mug on the table.

            "Excellent," the elder wizard beamed.  "You have it.  I am sorry for putting you through this without a professional assistant, Airelle… but you must understand the gravity of the situation… we cannot afford any more casualties."

            "So I'm not the only one worried?"

            "Of course not," he laughed.  "I've been badgering the Ministry every day since the Yule Ball, forcing them to listen to the truth.  I think Cornelius Fudge may have my head one of these days."

            Airelle chuckled.  "Somehow I doubt that, Headmaster."

            Dumbledore looked like he wanted her to say something else.  "But…"

            "But," she added, stretching out her words, "I…shall keep… my eyes open, nevertheless."

            "Good, very good."

            "I just can't believe," she mused, pursing her lips, "that the Ministry could still remain this thick—I mean, ahem, reticent…about Voldemort…"

            "Which is why I plan to make a short visit to London during the upcoming holidays," said Dumbledore, drinking some more tea.  "I shall try and persuade them to heighten their defenses and be prepared for an attack.  I'm afraid my network of compatriots, though extensive, shall not be enough to stop the Dark Lord by far."

            Airelle's eyes narrowed.  "Headmaster… if you leave, what if—"

            "Do not worry," he interrupted, raising a hand.  "I shall take precautions so that nothing goes amiss at the school in my absence."

            "Then, sir, I trust your good judgment," she answered wisely, choosing to shut up.  If Dumbledore said he would do something, he'd do it well.

            "Thank you, Airelle," the Headmaster smiled, straightening his dark blue robes.  "You may go… unless, that is, you want to talk about anything else."

            That tone of voice stopped the professor dead in her tracks, and she sat back down in the chair.  "Such as…what, sir?"  Airelle was beginning to think coming to the office was not the brightest idea she'd had all day.

            "You tell me," he replied, eyes twinkling like Christmas lights at her.  Airelle suddenly wanted nothing more than to tell him about the notebook.  But then again, she'd have to explain who opened the cabinet in the first place…

            Instead, she said, "Sirius Black, sir."

            "Indeed?" He sounded amused.  "Go on."

            "Sir, I know you'll find this an odd question, but…is it true that you trust Black?"

            "I will not deny it, Airelle," said Dumbledore, smiling at her for some reason.  "He is a valuable asset to our cause."

            "But why?" she blurted out, and then blushed.  "Oh… beg pardon, Headmaster, if you don't wish to reply…"

            "Nonsense," Dumbledore cut in.  "I am not angry with you for asking this… anyone in your position would be curious.  I'll tell you this: I trust him for a reason that you shall discover in time.  Not now, not like this.  You will have more questions than answers.  But if you still have faith in me as a capable Headmaster—"

            There was a pause, during which Airelle asserted, "Hogwarts shall never see one more talented than you, sir."

            "You overwhelm me; I do not deserve such a eulogy.  However, since you do believe in me, I shall tell you that you'll just have to trust me, at least until we discover the identity of the attacker."

            Interesting, she thought.  So he really doesn't believe Black did it.  But of course, he trusts Black.  Now I'll have to trust him, and Snape… I've been doing a lot of blind trusting lately, maybe too much for my own good.

            "Yes, sir," Airelle answered.  "I will keep that in mind, and take you up on that promise."

            "Fantastic," he said.  "Care for some crumpets?"

            "Thank you…"

            "Oh," he said abruptly, looking up, "it is my job to see that everyone in this school is doing well.  So, I urge you to be careful yourself, and not to wander out of school grounds at this time.  It is too dangerous, even for an experienced Auror."

            Airelle was silent.  What could she possibly leave Hogwarts for?  That is, unless Snape had a trip on his mind or something…

            She almost did not hear the wizard as he added, "And inform Severus of that as well.  He is intelligent, but even geniuses make errors on occasion."

            Airelle looked up after a while.  "P…Professor Snape?" she asked, flabbergasted.  "Why would he—I mean, how would I know of what he's doing?"

            "Well, unless I am horribly mistaken, you two are… how would a child today put it—an item?"

            Airelle nearly choked dead on her tea, while Dumbledore smiled still more.  "But…surely," she hacked out in a cough, "you don't…believe Lockhart's—"

            "Newspaper article?" The Headmaster laughed and stroked his long white beard.  "Poor Gilderoy had a forest, but missed it because he was looking for it among the trees."

            "Eh?"

            "What I mean is, he had the right idea, but explained it with lies and twisted truths.  In fact, nothing in that article is really honest… except the title."

            Airelle stared at him, speechless and ready to kill something.  Namely, herself.

            "Oh, don't look so alarmed, Airelle," Dumbledore chortled, taking another sip of the tea.  "I knew of your affair soon after it began.  Strangely enough, no one else has noticed but me.  Perhaps it is because I am the only one who remembers your relationship when you were students.  Sometime after this Christmas, your demeanor changed, very subtly.  You two are still the best of friends, am I correct?"

            Airelle, seeing it was no use, and still not sure if her voice was working, nodded numbly.

            "Excellent.  But now, there is something more between you.  And I understand perfectly why you have tried to hide it."

            She finally found her vocal cords.  "You mean, sir… you shall not tell?"

            "Of course not," he laughed.  "I'm not Gilderoy, thank heavens.  Besides… maybe there'll come a time when you won't feel a need to conceal this matter.  But for now, it is best that only you and I know of it.  Doubtlessly, you have considered the fact that Severus is a Death Eater in practice?"

            "Yes, sir.  I am aware of the danger this may pose."

            "That is very brave of you, Airelle," he said quietly.  "I know you care for Severus more than even he or you yourself know… so I wish you all the best.  Only mind yourselves, and do not take unnecessary risks, especially now."

            "You won't…reprimand, or fire us?"

            "And lose two of my best chances to defeat Voldemort?  Hardly a bright thing to do."  He graced her with a warm, grandfatherly smile.

            "Yes…sir, I agree," she replied shakily.  "So… this is really all confidential?"

            "Count on me, Airelle, it is, and so it shall remain until you decide to publicize it."

            Which will probably be never, Airelle said to herself.  Still… how did he…?  Why does that man always know everything?

            Well, that wasn't all true.  Even though she was feeling somewhat better about Dumbledore knowing about her and Snape (at least SOMEONE had guessed!), Airelle was still not sure he knew everything.  One thing he definitely had no idea about, other than the notebook --- if they were all going to get out of this predicament alive or not.

~*~

            "Dumbledore knows about us," she said that evening, scribbling corrections on Hermione Granger's Illusions report.  For once, the girl had made a mistake; it would do her some good in the future, Airelle fathomed.  Snape was pacing the Potions classroom prior to her statement.  Now, he stopped in his tracks and was having what appeared to be a goggling fit.

            "WHAT?"

            Airelle didn't even look up, for fear of meeting his eyes.

            "What?" he repeated, stepping up to the desk Airelle was sitting at, which happened to be his regular Potions one.  It was old, smeared with drying bits of potion from heaven knew how long ago, and basically looked like some feline had used it for a scratching post.

            She finally raised her gaze to him and propped her head up with her elbows on the wood.  "I paid him a visit yesterday, asking for an assistant in Illusions.  It was then that the truth came out."

            "I should have known," Snape muttered with a slight sneer.  "How could you keep anything from the great Dumbledore?"

            "Look, it wasn't my fault!" she protested.  "I tried to deny it, but he said he discovered it long ago, after Christmas."

            He sighed.  "Oh, quit being paranoid… I don't blame you.  It's just… I hoped no one but we would be cognizant of it."

            Airelle finished grading Hermione's report and placed it down on the desk.  "You cannot keep secrets forever, Snape," she said.  "My mother would often bring up the proverb – 'What two people know, a pig knows.'  Besides, Dumbledore shall not tell anyone."

            "Maybe not, but it'll certainly affect his view of us," was the reply.  "Doubtlessly, he told you to look out for yourself and for me, and see to it that I don't do anything rash in my search for the attacker?"

            "Well… it's only fair… I mean, he is worried, after all.  Especially with the fact that he is leaving for London these coming holidays, and wants everyone to be safe."

            Snape looked at her, then at the wall, in thought.  "Maybe… just maybe," he said slowly, a flicker of a smile going across his face, "this isn't such a bad thing."

            Airelle raised an eyebrow, remembering full well how worried he was when he stood in front of the organ that night.  "What crazy idea has come into your mind now?"

            "Nothing in particular," Snape answered, but there was no mistaking that smugness in his voice.  "Nothing at all.  So he's going to London, is he?"

            "Yes," she said hesitantly, rising from her chair.  "Dumbledore wants to pay a visit to the Ministry."

            "And they won't believe him, I'm sure," mumbled the Potions professor.  "He has no proof.  After all, Fudge will say, Longbottom is a snot-nosed kid, and Madame Pomfrey may have been hallucinating.  No one but Neville and Delilah know what happened… and Neville Longbottom is the only person who says that there was a mention of the Dark Mark.  Besides," he added with a chuckle, "even if they believe Longbottom's story, it still doesn't connect the Yule Ball to Voldemort.  It could just be any random act by a follower of his… like he said himself… a vigilante."

            "But if you believe Voldemort's lying," Airelle interpolated, "you could go to the Ministry with Dumbledore and—and tell them."

            Snape looked sideways at her, and grinned wryly.  "Honestly, you'd never think you were an Auror for twenty years, Airelle," he said.  "Do you really think Fudge will accept testimony from a former Death Eater?  First, it's too risky for me, they might throw me into Azkaban after all--"

            "And," sighed Airelle defeatedly, "it would ruin your spy campaign against Voldemort."

            "Very good.  The Dark Lord has undoubtedly infiltrated corners of the Ministry already.  Malfoy, for one, though no longer a governor, still holds power.  If any of those Death Eaters discover me talking to Fudge about this, Voldemort will kill me on sight."

            Throwing her head back, Airelle groaned.  "Then what do we do?" she asked.  "If the Ministry won't listen, who will?"

            "Dumbledore may stop his focus on the Valentine's Day attack until Delilah awakens, but I fear by then it'll be too late.  We cannot wait that long, Airelle," he said in an urgent whisper, gripping her shoulders.  "I have an idea."

            "Why do I have the feeling this spells trouble?" she asked with a feeble smile.

            "Perhaps you have a sixth sense."

            "Snape, that's not funny whatsoever."

            "I know," he replied.  "But I have a feeling this doesn't have to be dangerous.  Just trust me."

"Oh, grea—"

"In the meantime," he cut her off, parading her gently towards the hallway, "when are you asking Miss Granger to be your assistant for Illusions?  Because I can suggest some Slytherins who happen to be much better and more practical…"

            And Snape refused to say a word about his plan afterwards.  Airelle did not pry.  Blast that stupid promise I made to him

To Be Continued…

A/N: I know, even shorter than the previous chapter.  However, I think the next one, though short, will be worth all the waiting, believe me. :)  (Speaking of Chapter 23, it might come a tad late, seeing that I have a week or so until school starts again, 4 ½ more summer books to read, and 3 Chapters of AP Chemistry to prepare…)  Evilness.   But who knows?  Maybe I'll post ASAP. :)