Dumbledore and Flitwick apparated outside the Marseille address given by Jaken Colberson. Dumbledore glanced at his watch. It was nearly six o'clock. He rapped on the door and waited. A moment later, the door opened and Medea's twin brother was standing in the doorway.
"Mr. Colberson? I am Albus Dumbledore. You asked me to meet with you today?" The man made no reply. "And this is Filius Flitwick, our Charms professor."
Jaken smiled
"You did not bring Mr. Snape with you?"
"No, he has remained at the school."
The door opened wider, inviting the two professors inside. They entered the front foyer and followed Jaken into the living room. There was very little furniture in the house. In fact, there was very little of anything.
"Excuse the sparcity of my home. I've only recently moved here and have not yet decorated."
"No apologies necessary," Flitwick answered politely.
Jaken bade them to sit on the couch while he seated himself across from them on a chair. He sat stiffly, his legs crossed, hands clasped together on his lap. Dumbledore took the opportunity to examine him more closely. His black hair was graying prematurely at his temples and deep wrinkles outlined the same silver eyes he shared with his sister.
"Mr. Weasley at the British Ministry told me you had information on Medea's whereabouts. Is this true?"
"It is," Dumbledore answered. "She is at the school as we speak."
"I should have known that is where she went," he said quietly. "Why did you not bring her with you?"
"I wished to speak with you first. Your sister is suffering from amnesia. It was total at first, but she has regained many of her memories up to about 1982. After that nothing."
Jaken rose suddenly and paced the room, saying nothing. He seemed to be deep in thought. Dumbledore and Flitwick waited patiently while he digested this information. Suddenly, he stared at his guests. His eyes were cold for a moment, then softened.
"Where are my manners? I'm sure it was a long trip for both of you. May I get you something to drink? I do have a nice earl Gray."
He swept out of the room, but the professors could still hear his voice.
"How long has Medea been with you?" he asked, his voice echoing from the next room.
"Since September," Dumbledore answered. "I am curious to know what your sister has been doing for the last eighteen years."
"Why is that?" Jaken countered, returning to the room with two cups of tea. The professors accepted the cups. Flitwick sipped his while Dumbledore held his cup between forefinger and thumb while he spoke.
"It seems she has not aged during that time."
"She is a potions expert. I'm sure it's one of those cosmetic creams she came up with."
"Ah, yes. I'm sure that explains it." He lifted his cup to drink, then lowered it again, another question on his lips. His eyes fell on Jaken's fingers drumming his knee, those silver pools staring expectantly back. He was waiting for something. "She and Severus seem to be quite happy to be together again. I wonder why she did not try to reach him earlier?"
As Dumbledore carefully watched, Jaken's expression hardened to disgust.
"Together?" He stood and began pacing again, the eyes of both professors watching him. "How can she do this?" he muttered. "After- what he did?" He removed a pack of cigarettes from his pocket and lit one. He took a long drag and looked over at his guests as he exhaled. "Mr. Dumbldore, you haven't had any of your tea. Is it not to your liking?"
"No, it's quite fine," he answered, but still did not drink. His eyes stayed trained on the man before him. He laid his right hand on his wrist to grab his wand from his sleeve if needed. He distrusted this man. "Is something the matter?"
"In case you don't know, Medea was engaged to that man. He walked out on her. She was never the same after that." He eyes were trained on Dumbledore's cup.
"She seems to have forgiven him," he said stonily. The cup. He glanced over at Flitwick whose eyes had grown heavy. He swayed. Drugged! His own cup dropped from his hands and crached to the floor as he whipped his wand out too late. Jaken had already stunned him. The old Headmaster slumped on the couch next to Flitwick.
Jaken stepped over and removed the wands of both professors. They had apparated. He could use them to apparate at their starting point.
"My sister was never the same after he left. She was dead. But don't worry, old men. You'll wake up with headaches. Ol' Sev won't wake up at all." He took another long drag of his cigarette and dropped the butt to the floor, extinguishing it with his heel. After retrieving a silver package from a trunk under the window, he turned and headed for the front door, whipping a cloak about his shoulders, then left without a backward glance.
Snape sat at the dinner table next to McGonagall. Dumbledore and Flitwaick had still not returned from Marseille. Minerva laid her hand over his tapping fingers.
"I'm sure their meeting is just taking longer than expected, Severus."
"I don't trust her brother. I told Albus not to go."
"Albus is more than able to protect himself should he need it. Calm yourself."
Jaken apparated in a run-down shack. The furniture was destroyed. Deep gouges filled the walls. It looked as if a werewolf had been loose in there. He looked out the window. There was a town outside. The school was probably nearby. He slipped out to the street, a friend of a professor, unsure how to visit his friend at the school. His way was pointed out by friendly locals.
After dinner, Snape escorted Medea outside for a walk. The evening weather was pleasant, but his mind was elsewhere. Why was Dumbledore taking so long? Where were they?
"Where is Professor Dumbledore, Severus? He has not been to see me today."
"He was called away to meeting. Urgently."
"Is everything all right? You look troubled."
"I hope so."
Medea slid under his shoulder, wrapping her arm around his waist.
As they walked and softly spoke, the couple was unaware of two silver eyes peering out at them from the forest.
Snape absently played with Medea's black hair as they stood outside her chamber door. Medea stared up into his dark eyes; her own eyes mirroring his worry.
"What is it, Severus? Something weighs heavily on your mind. I can see it."
"Nothing, my love." He smiled. "I am merely anxious to speak with Albus. That's all."
Medea brightened.
"What is it?" he asked.
"Do you realize this is the first time you've called me that since you've returned?"
"What?"
"'My love.'"
"I suppose it is." He kissed her fingers. "Does it bother you?"
"Not at all." She kissed him, her lips lingering against his. "I'm glad I found you again."
"As am I." A frown crossed his face. "I don't think I ever thanked you for that. Thank you."
"You're welcome."
Snape kissed her forehead.
"I should go. Albus should be back soon."
"Come inside. You can wait here." Medea pushed the door open and held it for Snape to follow. She watched him cross the room and hang his cloak. She lavished in his fluid movements. Every step was graceful and elegant. He turned and saw her watching him.
"Close the door, Medea," he said softly.
Medea did as he told her and crossed the room to him. Snape pulled her cloak from her shoulders and hung it next to his own. Then he turned back to her, lifted her chin with one long finger, and gazed deep into her eyes. Slowly, he bent and kissed her lips. Medea's own hands pulled him closer, entwining through his hair as his arms circled her waist tightly.
For a few moments, both forgot where they were. There had been no separation. No pain. No suffering. Both were whole again in each other's embrace, and Snape felt total happiness for the first time since she had been torn from his life. It was only the sound of movement near the door that brought them back to the room.
Snape placed himself between Medea and the sound.
"Who's there?" he called and pulled his wand from his sleeve.
"Expellirumus!"
Snape's wand was whipped from his grasp and flew across the room where it was caught by a floating hand.
"Who is it?" Snape demanded, pushing Medea behind his back. "Answer me!"
His wand was flicked and Snape was thrown against an opposite wall and held there by an invisible force.
Medea screamed.
The hand tore the invisibility cloak from unseen shoulders, wrenching a gasp from Medea's throat.
"Jaken!"