By Marie Noire
Chapter Seven : In the Potions Master's Chambers
Chantal wheezed as she was swept up into a hippogriff-sized hug by Hagrid, surrounded by her students and being applauded by the entire school. When had that ever happened? Luckily Hagrid released her before she could pass out and she was attacked by a hundred smaller hugs from the children. Dumbledore nodded in her direction, the merry twinkle that always inhabited his eyes gleaming more brightly than usual. Remus was brave enough to press a quick kiss to her cheek and she teased him for it.
"Ah, what's a little kiss between best friends?" he shrugged as the students began to disperse to attend their well-deserved feast.
"I'm just a little startled Remus… it's not professional, you know." She replied, her smile belying her scolding. "You were never the flirtatious one before… you left that to James and Sirius."
"You knew my parents?" a voice piped up from behind her, making her jump around in shock.
"Harry! Mon dieu… do not sneak up on your professors like that!" she panted. "Yes… I knew your parents… Lily and I were best friends."
Harry smiled a bit. "You did? What… what was she like?"
"Lily was… very ambitious. She studied like her life depended on it. But, alors, did she have a temper… I lost count of how many times she slapped, smacked, punched or otherwise hit Sirius because he wouldn't leave her and James alone." Chantal remembered aloud.
"Really?" Harry's eyebrows disappeared under his fringe as Remus resorted to snickering behind the sleeve of his robe.
"I've got a photograph of Sirius' black eye to prove it somewhere." She added conspiratorially with a wink "Go join your friends at the feast and I promise I'll find it for you later, oui?"
"Oui!" he replied excitedly before running back to his table.
Chantal watched him thinking not for the first time that if Harry looked anymore like James, it would be beyond uncanny. "He's a good deal like James, isn't he?" she asked softly of Remus.
"That he is… the same talent for getting into trouble too." Remus agreed. "But at least he hasn't made it his business to play nasty pranks on anyone yet."
"That was Sirius' problem… always had to have the last word." She grew silent for a moment. "Severus… still has a grudge about that doesn't he?"
Remus swallowed visibly. "That he does… understandable, don't you think? He could have been killed… or worse."
Chantal nodded grimly. "True enough… but it was Sirius' fault, not yours. And James did save his life."
"He knows… and it doesn't sit well with him." Remus sighed. "He's been begrudgingly watching over Harry from what Dumbledore's told me. Trying to keep him from getting into trouble by punishing him to the full extent when he catches him. Problem is, Harry doesn't get caught easily."
"I imagine not… with his father's cloak helping him along. Even I borrowed that from James once or twice to sneak around after-hours."
Remus paused. "It's so strange…" he remarked quietly.
"What is?"
"You… me… Harry… even Snape all being here at once. Almost… almost feels like old times. Like I should be sneaking out with you and Harry to the Shrieking Shack any night now. I can't tell you how many times I've half-expected Harry to come running up to me to tell me the latest prank he pulled on Severus." He sighed.
"I know… it's odd. I almost wish Sirius were here too…" she nodded. "Has there been any word on his whereabouts?"
Remus looked distinctly uncomfortable. "Not that I know of. And, to tell you the truth, I don't think Sirius did it anymore… there was… something else at work there."
"I wish that were true, Remus. Sirius and I may have parted on bad terms, but I never thought he was capable of that." She took a deep breath. "But never mind that… you should go join the feast, I'll be along in a bit."
She watched Remus walk back towards the faculty table a bit reluctantly. She knew full well that while both she and Remus had grown up… she still felt for him as she would an older brother. It was becomingly increasingly clear that Remus wanted a bit more than that. He wasn't overt by any means, that just wasn't Remus' style… but in his own quiet way he was letting her know that he cared for her to such a degree. The way he sometimes passed his hand over hers during dinner sometimes was a prime example, as was his change in vocal tone whenever he spoke to her. His grey eyes always said far more than what actually came from his mouth. How could she tell him that her feelings for ran only towards the sisterly?
She sighed… maybe what she needed was time.
In the meantime, she wanted to go find Severus and ask him what he thought of the concert. He had left so quickly that she feared his answer… but she also knew that no matter what he thought of her, he would tell her the truth. Just as Remus' character was to be soft-spoken… Severus' was to be brutally honest.
The walk from the main hall to the dungeons seemed to take forever. Just as it had when she was a mere student, the further down she went in the castle, the spookier it became. She wondered briefly why on earth Severus chose to have his chambers in such a sinister place… even if it was close to his classroom. She nearly tripped down the two stairs that led down into the classroom itself, forgetting that they were there, just as she had several times in the past. Towards the back was the large oak door that led to Snape's office and then his private chambers.
The door was ajar slightly and the light of a fire flickering from within. She knocked hesitantly, feeling more like a frightened student that a fellow teacher seeking an opinion. No answer.
"Professor? Are you in? Hello?" she called softly, peeking her head through the door to find the office empty. His office was a tad on the cluttered side, but she supposed that there was a rhyme and reason to it that only Severus could follow. Jars of pickled things sat on the shelves, making her shiver a bit despite knowing that there were ingredients for potion-making and not some sick form of decorating.
Then again, with Snape you never knew.
The next door led to his chambers and she knocked after a deep breath.
A pause… then a muffled voice. "Who is it?"
"It's Chan- It's Professor Duquesne. May I come in?" she replied, almost reverting to the first-name basis that they hadn't been on for over twenty years.
Another pause. "Come." He answered, his voice begrudging. Most likely, he just couldn't come up with a polite reason to get rid of her, she thought vaguely.
She slipped through the door and stopped, amazed at what met her eyes. Far from the dark and dreary room she'd envisioned for Snape's bedroom, this place was surprisingly warm if a little plain. Dark, smooth floorboards and a simple rug of a dark weave… a simple armchair before a banking fire… a bed that differed from the students' only in that it was far larger… and bookshelves, bookshelves covered every available wall.
"Well? What do you want?" he asked, irritated by her sudden perusal of his space.
"I wanted to ask your opinion of this evening's novelties." She asked after yet another deep breath. "You left so quickly that I didn't have time to catch you upstairs."
"And why should my opinion of your little fun and games interest you?" he retorted, although not as harshly as she might have expected. Meanwhile, a furred shape was slowly circling her… good gods… he had a kneazle?
"Didn't we have that discussion twenty-three years ago? Because you won't lie to me. If you thought it was tripe, tell me… if you thought it was good, tell me." She sighed, trying to watch both him and the rather beautiful kneazle at the same time.
He seemed to consider his answer for a moment. "Sentimental… a tad overdone perhaps. Most carols are dreadful things that only succeed in sugar-coating an already saccharine holiday."
She nodded slightly. "A little… but that's why I chose more serious carols and not Rudolph the Red-nosed Reindeer, not one mention of Pere Noel. I thought of doing Handel's Messiah, but thought it might go over the student's heads a bit… except perhaps for messieurs Potter and Malfoy."
"Yes… Malfoy sang very well… excellent performance. Ten points to his House should cover it, I think." He added smugly, knowing that she likely still took House points as seriously as she had before.
She merely smiled. "I already awarded each soloist twenty points each for hard-work and dedication. Your Slytherins are a surprisingly talented bunch when they decided to actually work at something. Dare I ask what you thought of my Gryffindors?"
He glared at her. "Stop fishing for compliments, Duquesne… you know very well what I have to say about your entire performance."
She stopped, her smile fading. "And that is?"
He sighed, his dark eyes never leaving hers although the glare softened somewhat. "It was beautiful."
That said, he turned and strode over to his armchair, a clear signal that their conversation was now over. A clear signal that she chose to ignore.
"Seriously? Severus, please, wait." She implored him, coming to kneel on the floor next to his left arm. It was the first time since they were students that she had called him Severus to his face.
He turned on her, snarling. "I told you what I thought. Isn't that enough for you? Now go away and leave me in peace."
That sent her back on her feet a bit, biting her lip. "No… I want…"
"What?" he snapped impatiently.
"For us… to be friends again?" she asked, meeting his eyes steadily but without the normal glint of challenge.
He stared at her for a split second before regaining himself enough to be indignant and cold. "And why should my friendship mean so much to you now? You were so eager to deny it before, weren't you? One comment from your precious little chums and I was thrown aside like yesterday's garbage."
She stared back in disbelief. "Alors, Severus… I was seventeen! And can you honestly tell me that if your good buddy Lucius had asked, you would not have denied feeling anything but contempt for me? All right, I was wrong. I admit it! Is that what you want to hear? I was wrong and I am sorry."
His eyes narrowed. "You may be sorry now, mademoiselle. But how can I be certain you wouldn't do the same again if dear Lupin asked you tomorrow? You betrayed much during that chaste little duet of yours."
She looked down and he had the odd feeling that she was blinking back tears. Good… let her hurt. However, he was unprepared for her next question.
"Is that what this is all about, Severus? Because you're jealous of Remus? Bloody hell, Severus we're friends. If he and I were lovers don't you think I'd be in his chambers now, not yours?" she asked softly, in a voice almost identical to the one she'd possessed as a seventeen-year-old.
He scoffed. "Jealous? Of that monster in human guise? You insult me!"
It was her turn to narrow her eyes. "He is no monster, Severus… no more than you are."
A grim smile, one that lent no warmth to his cold expression. "So… you would equate me in the same league as your beloved werewolf and ask me to be your friend in the same breath? You always were a silver-tongue, Duquesne."
She stood, anger warming her cheeks and sending sparks from her eyes. "Just because Remus turns in to a wolf once a month does not make him a monster! It is not his fault he was bitten! No more than that mark on your arm makes you a monster."
He rose in an instant, fury blazing in his dark eyes, ripping back his left sleeve. "All this mark proves is that I once made the wrong decision! I seem to have made specialty of putting my trust in those who would betray me. A mistake I refuse to make again!"
She met his gaze insistently, even after tracing the dark images on his arm with her eyes. "We both made mistakes, Severus… must you make me pay so dearly for mine?"
The fire in his eyes calmed slowly, his expression now one of puzzlement… but he remained stubbornly silent. Could she possibly be serious? His heart pounded in his throat as he wondered… what if he would allow them to try again? They were adults now, after all… and governed by forces more important than peer pressure.
His silence was heavy and Chantal took it for a refusal. Looking down again, she turned and began her way back out the way she had come. "I guess so. I will see you tomorrow at breakfast, Severus. Goodnight."
He watched her retreating figure with a peculiar mixture of longing and relief; if she had stayed much longer he might have done something he would never hear the end of later. Nevermore followed Chantal's path to the now completely closed door and meowed in his raspy voice. He sat sullenly, looking back and forth between the door and his wizard with a grumpy pout, almost as if he were asking Severus what stupid thing he had done to chase away Chantal.
"What?" Severus asked the sulking kneazle irritably. Like most kneazles, Nevermore did have the uncanny ability to know when someone was up to no good. The one time Professor Quirrell had had the misfortune of crossing Nevermore's path, he'd nearly had his face removed by eight sharp little talons. Nevermore had a strange dislike for Filch and his mangy fur-ball as well, although he supposed that was more of a personality conflict than anything else. So why on earth did his discerning pet have a sudden attachment to a witch that he couldn't decide whether to love or hate?
Splendid… if Dumbledore wasn't giving him entirely too cheerful and vague advice… his bloody cat was!