Sirius slowly lowered the letter to the table, an unreadable expression on his face. " 'bout bloody time," he whispered hoarsely. A strange, knowing grin broke out over his face, a partially feral smile that quite plainly showed the dog in him.
"Is that enough to waylay your restlessness?" Remus asked mildly. The man appeared healthier now that the full moon was past, his face no longer so gaunt and pale.
"Just enough," Sirius said. "I won't be satisfied until I can actually talk to Harry. He's been having those dreams again." Or visions, he corrected himself silently.
"Yes, you told me," the other man answered. His expression was rather melancholy. "It's not just him- I want to see the other children again." His tone was wistful and- Sirius couldn't help but notice- bitter. He knew how much teaching had meant to him.
However the thought of the loss of Remus's job led to Snape and Sirius bit back his anger. He truly detested that greasy bastard. However, his thoughts were apparently plainly illustrated on his face as Remus seemed to sense (as he usually did) what was going through his mind.
"Sirius," he said in a rather stern voice, "do not
stir up any trouble with Snape. If
anything, for Harry's sake in Potions.
And the rest of the Gryffindors, for that matter."
"He doesn't dare treat Harry as he used to, not with Tinuvial there." But at the thought of the woman, his
attitude softened. He sighed. "And I want to see her again- but I
want to actually talk to her, not just watch her from outside."
Remus looked closely at him. "You still
love her." A statement, not a question.
Sirius would not answer or look at him.
Remus sighed. "Why do I think things are going to be unnecessarily complicated now?" he groaned. He picked up the letter from Dumbledore and threw it in the fire. As he watched the flames brown, then blacken the edges of the curling paper, Sirius still did not answer.
***
It was the weekend before Halloween and Tinuvial was pacing the halls of Hogwarts restlessly like a cat trapped in a cage. It would happen in two days… things would be completely different from here out. The letter from Arthur Weasley had come three nights ago, granting permission for this to be done. It would never have happened under Cornelius Fudge.
It was not the ceremony itself she feared. No…it was her strength, or lack thereof. She had long since stopped using Snape's concoctions…she was naturally skittish about using potions. Yet, she had been feeling not quite up to her standard lately, more drained and tired. It did not show, but she suspected Snape knew. In the last week, she had come to dinner only twice, having nearly collapsed in bed after classes ended for the day. But he would bring her dinner without question or comment, accepting her feeble excuses of lingering illnesses. However, she knew that he would not stand aside as he had been doing for much longer if she did not improve. She kept reassuring Dumbledore that she would be fine, yet she doubted he was convinced either. She knew that she wasn't.
Harry, too, was worried, she knew. The boy almost always came to see her on days when she would not normally see the Fifth Year Gryffindors. Twice today, he had asked if she were alright and made some remarks about how tired she had been looking lately. She had merely smiled, made some excuse about a sudden bout of insomnia at night, and reminded him gently of a fast-approaching exam, plus his OWLs.
On the other hand, if something were truly wrong, Dumbledore would have long ago seen it. If he didn't think she could handle it, he would undoubtedly refuse to let her participate. So she resolved to no longer worry.
But the dreams… great Merlin, the dreams were destroying what little rest she
could get now.
A sudden noise from behind made her whirl around. Mrs. Norris sat complacently on the base of a suit of armor,
glaring accusingly at her. Tinuvial
clenched her jaw. "Oh, bugger off," she
snapped as she passed by, resisting the urge to kick the feline down the hall.
Admittedly, the thought was attractive and would cause the ever-tiresome Filch
deep consternation; however, it would serve no purpose but to vent her mounting
nerves.
Without really thinking, she fairly flew down the steps leading to the Potions classroom. Snape merely glanced up at her as she stormed in, irritable and edgy. "Hello, Professor Elarith," he said shortly. Several Fourth Year Hufflepuffs were cleaning up a gooey mess from the previous class. The students looked up at her with please for help in their eyes. Tinuvial looked sharply at Snape, one eyebrow raised, a questioning gaze that he stonily returned. She sighed. Morgan le Fey knows what had happened.
"Can I help you with anything?" Snape asked, returning to his work.
"No, but I believe I shall help our students finish up and go to dinner," she said with a tone that even he would not argue with. With her skilled and quick hands, the goo was quickly dispersed of and it was with relief that the Hufflepuffs profusely thanked her and ran from the classroom.
"So, do you have an actual purpose for being here, or are
you just roaming the castle playing the Samaritan?" he asked disparagingly.
"Playing the Samaritan," she replied tartly. "But I actually came here because I wanted
to talk to someone."
"So you chose me. How flattering." His eyes glinted strangely. "Should I be honored by this visit?" There
was no humor to be found in his voice.
She narrowed her eyes. "I wouldn't suggest starting an argument with me today, Severus," she said coolly, her now-flinty eyes flaring at him dangerously. "I would rather not be alone right now- however, if you're going to act like a bastard, then I shall take my leave of your presence. It's your choice." She stood with her arms crossed defiantly over her chest. Snape stared at her stonily.
"Stay," he said shortly.
"That is, unless, you think you should rest."
"I'm fine."
He looked up at her with a derisive twist in his smile. "Are you then?" he asked, his black eyes
boring coldly into hers. "Is that why
you nearly faint after the day is done?
I suppose being 'fine' also means that you look as pale as the ghosts
here and you're quite close to blending right in with them. And that you act like you're as strong as
you were before." He came around the
desk and glared at her. "Well, you're not
that strong, Tinuvial. You probably
never will be for the rest of your life and you won't accept it. In the meantime, you push yourself
dangerously beyond where you should go and act like a royal bitch. If you keep up this way, you'll surely kill
yourself."
Tinuvial had remained silent through his angry words and he half-feared that she would storm out of his classroom and never speak to him again. Yet when he looked up at her closely, he saw that she was half-slumped against the wall, her hand rubbing her forehead. He took an involuntary step towards her, but held back.
"I'm tired, Severus," she said, her voice strangely distant. "I'm so very tired and afraid now." When she looked up, he was shocked to see her eyes were filled with tears. "I've been having strange dreams… about when I was cursed… about my mother's kin and what will happen to them if we fail. And …" her voice trailed off significantly as he came towards her. She fixed him with a steady gaze. "I have a responsibility to them," she said, her face not pale so much, but nearly gray. "To Tobias, to Harry, to everyone. And, great Merlin, Severus, I don't know if I'm strong enough to handle it." She looked down, her gaze directed somewhere beyond the floor, eyelids lowered. "I don't think I've ever been truly afraid of anything. But I am now."
He touched her shoulder gingerly- as if she were made of mist and would fade
away at the touch of someone- and she fell into his arms. She found comfort against him, the one place
where she knew that she did not have to be the stoic and unmovable part-Fairy
witch everyone believed her to be.
Snape closed her off from the world and everyone else as he put his arms
around her. Her shoulders shook
slightly as she gave way to the tears she had been holding back for so
long. She clutched at him desperately
as if he were all that held her in this life and he could do nothing more than
hold her.
