Thank you to Prof Sparky and Iceheart for their lovely comments!
Tegan – I promise Faith and Snape's romance won't be forgotten! But it is a long story, and I don't want it to get boring, so its got a lot of things going on, all of which aren't as important as Faith and Snape.
Little Mandy Ralph – Wow, I attract a literary crowd! Plath has been a huge influence on me over the years, the chunk from "Daddy" (there's another one this chapter) came after I had that plot segment devised, but I wonder at the subconscious influence. I've always read Plath for pleasure and never studied her, I would be really fascinated to hear some of your insights, ideas etc… Just for the different perspective really. I'd love it if you'd email me to share some ideas!
Thanks to Laura Beth for beta reading this, especially as I really seemed to loose my ability to spell with this one!
*********************************************** Chapter 23 – Shadows Cast"You stand at the blackboard, daddy,
In the picture I have of you,
A cleft in your chin instead of your foot
But no less a devil for that, no not
Any less the black man who
Bit my pretty red heart in two.
I was ten when they buried you.
At twenty I tried to die
And get back, back, back to you.
I thought even the bones would do."
From "Daddy" by Sylvia Plath
****************************************
Faith paced up and down Dumbledore's study waving the Ministry letter.
"Albus they can't, they just, can't take his notes! I won't let them! I will not let anyone…"
"Calm yourself child. Sit down, breathe, try to relax." Dumbledore leant across the table and took Faith's hands in his. "I promise you that they will not take Rhys's papers. I will not let them." His eyes were hard, and the genial old man act vanished as he stared into Faith's eyes.
"I will not let history repeat itself, Faith."
Faith sank down into the chair and put her head in her hands.
"Albus, I can't, I can't cope with this. I can't go through this now, I can't…"
"You won't have to."
"That's so easy to say!"
"You won't have to."
They sat in silence and Faith drew her knees up to her chin and buried her face in them. Maybe if she hunched herself up small enough then no one would see her? If she cocooned herself in the dark no one would touch her?
But then a hand did touch her hair and she jumped up, grabbed her wand, and when she only saw Albus Dumbledore's worried, kindly face staring at her she had to restrain the sob building in her chest.
"Faith we can probably convince them his research," Dumbledore spat the word like it tasted foul in his mouth, "Was worthless. If we can't then we just won't let them take it, it's that simple."
"Severus said that he would say that too, publicly, if he had too."
"Yes having Severus there would help. But Faith you'll have to tell him."
Faith looked at the rug and tried to breathe slowly.
"I can't…"
"Tell him that you, that you can resist it. You have to there's no way they won't mention it."
"No!"
"You have to!"
"I can't, but, then he won't support us, you know that, his sodding professional reputation!"
Faith leapt up and started pacing again. She walked over to the window and pressed her forehead against the glass. If only they would stop, if only everything could be quiet, just for a moment. One moment of quiet…
"Severus does actually have some ethics. Even if his sense of honour may seem rather twisted its definitely there."
He joined her at the window and put his arm around her shoulders, but she pushed him away and walked to the other side of the room.
"Show him Rhys's notes, all of them, all that you have, and I'm sure he will help us."
Faith just shook her head.
"He won't do it otherwise! And Faith he would be an enormous help. His testimony on this will probably shut them up for a long time."
"I know."
Dumbledore walked across the room and stood opposite her.
"Painful as it is Faith, this is not just about you. It is at least partly about making sure this can never be repeated."
Faith raised her glimmering eyes to Albus's face.
"It's never just about me. I know this. Nothing in my life has ever been about me apart from the abuse I aimed at myself. I'm sorry for once again disappointing you Albus."
She turned out of the room and he called after her desperately,
"Faith!"
She paused for a second and her body went rigid.
"Don't Albus, I can't stand it."
Then she was gone.
It was fairly pleasant evening for Severus Snape. A quick, invigorating squabble with Minerva in the staff room. An excellent supper of truly delicious lasagne. This really wonderful whisky, and best of all, no Faith Llewllyn to distract and confuse him. Life didn't get much better.
He had pretty much convinced himself that he only looked round for her so he could avoid her. The unfamiliar sensation of actually slightly missing her company was just, idiocy. Nothing more or less.
He kept coming back to the moment she had grabbed his hands the other day. The fear, it was the only phrase, the fear on her face as she had read the article. His hands had seemed to tingle in her grip. He had supposed, stupidly, that she wasn't really frightened of anything, but she was. Frightened of her father? The mask she wore had slipped right down then. It intrigued him. And worried him on a level he really didn't understand.
All this was why he was very annoyed when someone banged on his door at ten o'clock.
"Faith?" He stared at her in surprise.
"Hi. I know it's late, but can I come in?"
He should have said no, would have been very easy to tell her that it was late and he had a class to teach tomorrow, but somehow these words rearranged themselves into,
"Yes. What do you want?"
"Thanks."
She walked past him and curled up in one of the chairs by the fire. She had a large plastic bag with her, and she propped this up next to the chair.
"Can I have a drink?"
"People usually wait to be asked." But he poured her one anyway and pushed it over to her.
Then, as she picked it up, he realised her hands were trembling.
She didn't say thank you or speak at all, just stared into the fire and sipped at the whisky. Then she whispered,
"You know I asked you if you would support me in blocking access to Rhys's notes?"
"Well, you asked me if I would say they were worthless."
"Will you?"
"Yes."
The fire had burnt down a lot and was flickering in the grate. The shadows and flames lit up Faith's skin and made her eyes appear to be glittering strangely, as though they were filling with tears.
She still didn't look at him as she spoke again.
"On Saturday two ministry scientists are coming to demand I release all of Rhys's notes to them. I will not let this happen, for reasons you will shortly understand. But there is a chink in my armour."
She raised her eyes to his and looked straight at him.
"I can resist the Cruciatus curse."
He choked on his whisky.
"What?"
She repeated herself but he barely heard. Thoughts started to vie for attention in his brain. It was a miracle, it was dynamite, why was it so bad, who the fuck had dared put Crucio on her? Rhys had been right?
"I suppose telling you it's a freaky coincidence won't work?"
It was the exhaustion and hopelessness in her voice that snapped him back. She didn't look like she could resist a jelly legs curse. She looked frail, and utterly unlike the woman he knew. Though he was realising he didn't really know her at all.
She unwound herself slightly and took two bundles of papers out of the bag.
"This is everything that Rhys ever published, it has all been made public before. You'll probably recognise it."
She laid her hand on the second, untidier and larger bundle.
"These are his private notes, personal things, drafts, etc… To the best of my knowledge these are all the notes that remain. They explain, more clearly than I ever could, why I'm asking you to help me."
She stood up and took a handful of floo powder from the pot on the mantle piece.
"Read them, take notes from them, do what you will with them, I don't care anymore. If you feel scientific progress is more important than anything else give them back to me tomorrow."
"Faith?"
He tried to stop her leaving, but he didn't know what he could say that would work.
She was staring at him like she thought she might be seeing him for the last time. She took a step towards him, then turned sadly away and stepped into the flames.
"Faith." He spoke her name to the silent air, and turned to the notes.
Three hours later. He put his pen down and stared at the embers of the fire that had burnt down long ago.
He didn't know what to feel. Shock possibly, surprise even. Anger, oh yes anger, freezing silver anger that gripped his guts.
He had tried to study them dispassionately, but now he was re-reading some of the notes he'd made, and the anger was coiling through his whole body.
"…The levels of adrenalin are higher in the subject's body after repeated small bursts of Crucio, rather than one long bout…"
"The subject should be between the ages of sixteen and nineteen. Under sixteen would presumably cause damage to the still growing tissue, over nineteen, the body has solidified too much…"
"Note: Must see if prevention of screaming induces better responses."
"Subject was uncooperative today…"
"…Casting Crucio too often in one week causes small periods of psychosis..."
"Will not give subject healing potion today, see if it affects magic levels."
He had tortured his own daughter. On and off for about two years.
She had been sixteen when it started, still at Hogwarts. She had returned to Hogwarts after the holidays, and they hadn't noticed! They hadn't noticed!
He crumpled the paper up in his hand.
Bastard. Fucking, fucking bastard.
Snape didn't actually feel able to speak. The anger was too intense, too burning in his heart. And the guilt, oh God the guilt. Had he ever punished her for messing up potions because her hands were shaking? Had he? He didn't know!
The subject. He had called Faith the subject.
Snape felt no desire for children, but he did feel a sort of parental protectiveness for some of the more vulnerable Slytherins in his care, and what had been done to Faith inflamed that instinct. He wanted to find Rhys and pummel his skull to nothing, to drive his fist in the cunt's face over and over again until there was nothing left but shattered bone, and wrecked, bleeding flesh.
He had to see her! He leapt up and then realised he had no clue what to say.
Repeated apologies for not realising wouldn't be enough, nothing could ever, ever, hope to cover the pain of this kind of abuse.
Had he called her by her name when he tortured her? Or had he called her the Subject?
He stared at the fire, lit it again and threw a fist full of powder into it.
"Albus Dumbledore!"
Dumbledore appeared in the fire.
"Good morning Severus." There was no hint of twinkle in his eyes. "Shall I come through?"
Snape nodded.
A second later Dumbledore walked out of the flames and sat in the same chair Faith had curled up in earlier. Snape wasn't quite sure why that annoyed him.
He began to pace, and tried to talk, but nothing coherent came out. Dumbledore said quietly,
"Severus, breath and calm yourself. Think, then speak."
"He tortured her."
"Yes, in the name of science and progress."
Snape slumped on the sofa.
"She was still at Hogwarts and none of us realised."
"Yes. I believe it started the Christmas when she was in her sixth year. And yes, every day I've seen her since I found out, the guilt has been a knife in my heart."
Severus looked across at the other man and realised it was one of the few times he had seen with him with tears threatening to spill from his eyes. He didn't want to remember the other times so he looked down at the piles of evil, rank paper.
"Why didn't she report him?"
"You'd have to ask her, and I do not advise you to."
Snape picked up some of the calculations, trying to concentrate on the numbers to ease out the chaos in his mind.
"It still shouldn't have worked. There's more, he worked out something more…"
"There is. And she won't tell if you ask."
"Is it worse than this?"
Dumbledore's eyes clouded and his voice caught.
"Yes."
Snape stood up and began to pace frantically again.
"I have to go and see her! Now. This, this, bastard, he called her the Subject! He called Faith the fucking Subject!"
"No." Dumbledore stood up. "Severus do not go to her now. You are upset, and very strangely for you wearing your emotions on your sleeve.
"Faith will not appreciate you barging in, yelling and stricken with guilt. She will run from you."
His eyes softened. "And I do not think that is what you want."
"I…"
"Right now Severus your feelings for her are written on your face and in your eyes. She needs your friendship rather than sex. Although I suspect that it is a harder thing for you to give.
Snape sat down, momentarily speechless.
Dumbledore moved next to him.
"I was surprised when I realised, and no one else has, to my knowledge anyway. Go to her as a calm friend Severus, and take your anger out on the Ministry fools who want to inflict this on someone else."
Snape nodded and watched Dumbledore walk into the fire.
His feelings for Faith? He didn't know what they were now; alright he never had, but now? He wanted to hold her, and protect her, and wipe that horrible cold, blank look from her face.
He knew why she wore that look now.
Useless dreams.
He made a cup of tea and drank it slowly. Then packed up the papers and made his way through the darkened corridors of the school.
He tapped lightly on Faith's door; he wasn't at all surprised when she answered.
"May I come in?"
She nodded. There were dark circles under her eyes, and she looked like she was too tired to bother to hide the fear.
He put the bag on the table.
"I read them, all of them. I will be there on Saturday and I will say how repellent they are, and how worthless."
She sagged, he though she was going to collapse and he moved forward to catch her, but she caught the top of a chair.
"Thank you. The words don't contain enough, they seem insignificant, thank you…"
She was babbling, and he wanted so desperately to just wrap his arms around her and kiss her to shut her up, but he didn't move.
"No." He tried to speak, but didn't know what to say. "I should have realised…"
"No!" She moved across to him and placed a finger against his lips. "No you shouldn't have, it wasn't your place to."
And somehow she was in his arms. He hadn't planned that, hadn't planned to move and wrap his arms so tight around her, and close his hand in her hair and hold her still against him.
She stiffened, and then her arms went round his neck and she held him to her as tight as she could manage.
They stood there like that for some unidentifiable amount of time. It wasn't a sexual hug, not a lovers' embrace, but two broken people being faced with something they could never hope to handle. Two people who knew that if they stopped holding each other they might drown, or fall, or collapse into the gaping void they'd spent their lives tip toeing round. So they just clung to each other, and he felt her heart beating against his and wrapped his cloak around her, and she buried her face in his shoulder.
Eventually they slid apart, and in a dream like way he ran his hand across her cheek and placed a very chaste kiss against her forehead. Her skin was so soft under his lips, and she smiled in a way so sad it nearly snapped his heart in two.
He whispered good night to her then, and slid out of the room. He was still angry and hurt, but it didn't matter so much anymore. Nothing really did. Not till the dawn anyway.
Dawn came, after three hours sleep spent dreaming of screaming and blood. But then they slid into hazy, erotic dreams of Faith, that were broken up by the alarm clock screaming in his ear.
He actually felt ashamed and slightly sick as he finished what the dreams had started. It was probably the expression on pain in her eyes as he had held last night, doing this thinking of her, of her hurried heartbeat as he held in his arms, felt like some sort of betrayal of trust, although he couldn't begin to understand why. It was the first time since he was teenager sharing a dormitory that he buried his face in the pillow to muffle the cry he gave as he came.
Friday moved far too quickly, that horrible speed that time only manages to move at when you're dreading something. He spent the day in a tired daze, and didn't see Faith till the evening.
She came and sat near him in the staff room. She had a catalogue of Transylvanian glass pieces that were being auctioned off next month. They spent a few hours discussing them, the expected amounts they'd go for, and how many were total rip offs.
She seemed more herself. Although she couldn't quite keep the nervousness out of her eyes, she seemed far more her usual bitchy self. And he was irrationally delighted to be able to wring a couple of laughs out of her.
Dumbledore came to sit with them later, and gave Severus an approving smile.
But Friday night ticked into Saturday morning, and there was no escape.
Snape stared at his wardrobe with a twisted look on his face. He really did not care what he wore most days, but this was important.
He chose heavy, black, velvet robes, with large silver buckles. Too plain to be dress robes, but, and this was the key, extremely imposing. He smiled at his reflection in the mirror, it was a very cruel smile.
He paused as he looked down at the dressing table. There were very few things on there, deodorant, comb, just the usual basic things, but inside…
He pulled open a drawer and took out a box. It was ebony black, but set with dark blue sapphires. A crow with an unblinking sapphire eye was engraved on it. He opened it and viewed the contents.
It was not just a jewellery box. It contained the Snape Family's official jewellery, collected over the centuries. He never, ever wore it. He had, issues, with his family. He had no wish to even be a member of the damn thing, let alone parading the knowledge around, but…
In some circumstances, like inspiring middle class, social climbing, twits to shut and behave, it was, useful.
All the pieces were of crows. It was the Snape family emblem, just as midnight blue was their colour. The Llewllyns, coming from Wales, had dragons and green.
He searched through the various pendants, brooches and rings until he found the perfect piece, and one of the few he had ever willingly worn.
It was a ring, technically. It was the shape of a crow, and covered the wearer's entire finger. The beak curved over his nail like a long claw. It had been designed to cut someone's throat. Two sapphires gleamed in the steel, the bird's evil eyes. He had once wondered why it was steel, not the more valuable silver, but his Grandfather had explained. Silver looks pretty and shines, steel can kill and scar.
He slipped it on and smiled horribly again. He was ready to go to War.
He reached Dumbledore's office to find the old wizard and Faith already there. He was quite proud of the fact that he didn't visibly react to her. She could not look more different to normal. Her hair was tied back in tight silver clasp, and she was dressed in robes, rather than her usual muggle clothes.
And they were fucking impressive robes. A green velvet gown, with a silver bodice and dark green velvet cloak, held together with a Celtic, silver brooch. She looked nothing like the public perception of her, the upper class, alcoholic slut. She looked powerful. She looked fierce.
Dumbledore was studying his enchanted plan of the grounds.
"They're here. I'll meet them at the gates." He dropped his hand on Faith's shoulder and raised her head to his.
"You will be fine."
Then he left in a trail of silks and velvets. It seemed no one was taking any chances.
Fawkes flew over to Faith and nestled his head in the crook of her arm. She stroked his feathers and looked up at Snape.
"Don't we look nice?"
He rolled his eyes and said,
"I hope we don't."
She smiled, a very thin smile, similar to the one he had given the mirror.
"So do I."
They sat in silence, the only noise was Fawkes's soft cooing.
Dumbledore came back with three figures in the uniform of the Ministry's research department, one had extra emblems on his sleeve, showing he was of very high rank.
"May I introduce Mrs. Longbow, Mr Subnet and Mr. Spiel. Snape sized Longbow up as the one to beat. She reeked of practicality and her eyes were very cold. They seemed as blank and hard as Faith's and his own.
Spiel had a damp handshake, and had to suppress a squeak of excitement when he saw Snape's ring. Middle class, social climbing twit, just what was needed!
He was surprised to see Subnet, the man with the extra runes. The man was ancient, and very, very important in the Ministry's research department.
Faith opened the conversation.
"I refuse to hand over any of my father's papers. They were left to me on his death. I have a copy of his will here," she opened a file and drew out a scroll of parchment, "and it makes very clear that all his properties and effects were left to me to do with entirely as I see fit."
Longbow's small eyes narrowed.
"You wish the Wizarding community to be powerless against torture by Voldemort's followers Miss. Llewllyn?"
Snape was sure her eyes flicked to him as she said that.
Dumbledore sat up and said quietly,
"She does not Mrs. Longbow. And do I need to remind you that Faith was recently seriously wounded in a ministry raid. She was also first attacked by the Death Eaters when she was five years old, her mother died to save her. She does not support them."
Faith smiled nastily.
"I didn't get a fancy scar though."
Snape shot her an amused look and started his prepared speech. He went through all the many reasons Rhys's research was invalid, all the many people who had said it couldn't work, and his own calculations. He noticed that Spiel was hanging on his every word and gave the man a condescending smile.
When he finished Longbow hissed,
"I think the Ministry had more right to judge that than you, Professor Snape."
"I think not." Snape replied "I have achieved the highest possible level of qualifications, and was apprentice to one of the most important Potion Masters of our time. I have numerous works published and many years practical experience in working with counter-curse solutions. The ministry, regrettably, has few to match me."
Dumbledore nodded his agreement.
Spiel picked up Dumbledore's nodding and said,
"I quite agree. Lorraine, Sir, is there really any point?"
"There is none." Faith's voice. "Because I will not let you have the papers."
Longbow shrugged.
"You must. Official Ministry permission."
Faith smiled again. And Snape knew that smile, it was the smile generally used by someone just before they lay down the ace, or just before they tear your arguments to shreds, or just before they cast the curse that you thought you were safe from. That smile was the last thing a lot of people ever saw.
He had never realised how fucking sexy it was before though. His mouth went dry and he shivered in desire.
"Oh no, Mrs Longbow, I don't have to.
"I have here a piece of paper detailing the special powers the Aurors have been granted in these troubled times. I've highlighted the bits that relate to seizure of property. As you may notice, it only, only, relates to people suspected of being Death Eaters and items that may be used as evidence."
Snape realised that, along with feeling more aroused by every acid word she spoke, he was feeling extremely proud of her. He had the urge to cheer.
"I have also looked up the laws relating to when the Ministry can override the laws we have. As you seizing these notes on behalf of the Ministry would be illegal, I feel it's relevant."
She delicately produced another piece of highlighted paper.
"Yes, here we are. I'll read it shall I? 'To override, remove or in anyway alter the existing laws, the Minister must carry two thirds of the votes from the Ministry Elect.'"
Faith smiled again.
"There has been no such vote."
Longbow leapt up.
"You can resist the curse! Think, of the good, the good it would do…!"
"Any means to an end? I don't think so."
Faith stood up and looked imperiously around the room.
"This meeting is at a close."
It was a voice descended from people who would order others to war, who made a command and had it obeyed. Snape smiled as the room descended into chaos. Longbow had turned to Subnet and was arguing with him frantically, but the old man was shaking his head at her. Spiel was crouching in his chair and looking terrified. Dumbledore was staring at the ceiling and humming, and Snape and Faith just stared at each other and smiled.
Subnet pushed his colleagues out of the room, Spiel pumping Snape's hand enthusiastically. He then turned to Faith.
"Miss. Llewllyn?"
"Yes Mr. Subnet?"
"I knew your Grandfather, and your Father. You resemble the former a great deal. You are however several thousand miles above your Father. Your Grandfather, had he lived, would have been more proud of you than you would believe. He despised his son however."
And one of the most important wizards at the ministry held out his hand to a degenerate, upper class whore. Faith took it and shook hard.
"Thank you Sir."
"Miss. Llewllyn it's an honour to have met you. You too Professor Snape. Albus, a pleasure as always."
Then he left. Dumbledore squeezed her shoulder again.
"If I'd known he was coming I wouldn't have let you worry for a moment. I'm proud of you Faith. I'll see them out, then come back."
Snape and Faith were left alone and stared at each other. Then Faith started laughing, ran across the room, and to Snape's amazement threw her arms around his neck.
"I'll beat the bastard yet! I'll beat him one day!"
He merely nodded and relished the feel of her soft body pressed up against his, but she stepped out his arms laughing. He wished he could grasp her presence to him for one more moment, but settled on watching her shining face.
"I've got something to show you. I haven't told anyone yet."
She opened the window wide and to Snape's astonishment sat on the sill.
"Faith? Faith what are you doing?"
She just laughed in response, and the air shimmered and she changed…
Perched on the sill was a hawk. A red kite, a large beautiful bird with gleaming red feathers. It turned and gave him a look that was so completely, well, Faith, he had to laugh as well, and she spread her wings and leapt!
He ran to the window as she seemed to drop, but then she found her balance and soared through the sky, crying defiantly at the people walking across the grass far below.
Snape watched her till Dumbledore returned. A beautiful bird, sweeping and diving and free. Sometimes a speck in the sky, and sometimes swooping close.
Free.