Chapter 4: All the Stars in the Sky
"Ah, but a man's reach should exceed his grasp, or what's a heaven for?"
~ Robert Browning
The weeks passed into October and Snape was no closer to learning what part, if any, O'Malley played in the Order of the Phoenix. By all accounts she appeared to be an exemplary Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, dedicated to her job. Inside of a month the class became one of the favorites, despite the amount of hard work. So far O'Malley had completed her teaching of basic methods, not even resting until the last student could produce a corporeal Patronus charm. O'Malley announced that now that she was teaching how to block an opponent's spells, the Dueling Club would soon be commenced. All the students were looking forward to the date, only a short two weeks away.
In the meantime Snape put his qualms to the back of his mind. He had more important things to worry about than a few discrepancies. Snape concentrated on his own duties, immersing himself in keeping up his many obligations. The familiarity of teaching kept his mind off what he didn't want to think about, but the weight he carried grew steadily heavier. Playing both ends against the middle between Dumbledore and Voldemort was more than a dangerous game. Before, he had no reason not to take the risk; he was willing to make the ultimate sacrifice to salvage the majority, if necessary. But things had changed when Sam O'Malley arrived at Hogwarts.
Snape turned to the photograph of Lily Evens less and less often. He never thought he would fail to look to it, not so much for the memory it retrieved but for what he wanted to remember about the past. It was Thursday night, and Snape sat in his drafty chambers in the dungeon. The fire was dying out, only a few glowing embers remaining. As Snape watched them he let the walls he built up for the day slide away, and his mind began to wander. Somewhere between sleep, partly conscious and party unconscious, Snape breathed deeply and closed his eyes. The memories of the past always seemed to catch up with him at the end of the day. Earlier that afternoon he had singled out Neville Longbottom in the hallway, and embarrassed him in front his friends. With a look of fear on his face Neville dropped his books, quickly gathered them up and hurried away. The way Neville looked at him.like he were some sort of monster..Snape tried to push away the thought without success. It must have been the same look he had given his own father. The same flinch, the same fear. Then why did treat the boy in the same manner? Snape knew, but didn't want to think about it. His father was coming towards him, and his mother was sobbing as usual. He was younger, cowering just like Neville. He backed up until his back was against the wall.
The distance was closing.Snape woke up with a jolt, in a cold sweat. He realized that his hands formed tight fists, and that his knuckles were white. Snape waited until his breathing returned to normal. Just as his eyes began to water, looking at the burning embers, Snape forced a scowl on his face and tried to shut out everything he had dreamed about. But the dream still sat in the pit of his stomach, forming a disturbing knot that wouldn't let him rest.
Snape rose suddenly and put on his cloak. Even thought the nights were getting cooler, he decided to go up to the North tower for some fresh air. He wanted nothing more than to clear his head from all the madness. His mind was cloudy, and he was desperate to lift that weight before it became more than he could take.
Snape climbed swiftly up the astronomy tower with his cloak whipping behind him. It was windy, this night. He had just reached the landing when he saw O'Malley leaning on the edge of tower's stone walls, gazing resolutely up the night sky. She whipped around as she heard him approach, as if startled. As she saw him her face relaxed, and she turned around again.
"What are you doing up here at this hour?" a surprised Snape asked.
"Good evening, Severus," she said softly, without facing him.
"Good evening," he said cautiously.
"It's a clear night, tonight. I'm looking at the stars."
"I'll leave you alone, then," Snape said.
"No. You don't have to do that," she replied quietly. "It's as much your sky as it is mine. And besides, I'm about ready to leave, as I forgot my cloak. I didn't know it would be so cold tonight."
Snape walked closer, then turned his gaze towards the sky. O'Malley sighed. "And what are you doing at the Astronomy tower so late, Severus?" she asked.
"Why the same as you. I come here to think, away from the monotony of the dungeons."
"One drafty place for another, eh?" O'Malley said casually.
"Indeed," he replied. Snape could tell he had interrupted something. A train of thought, perhaps.
A few minutes passed in silence. O'Malley was staring blankly out into the indigo blue sky, hardly breathing. Suddenly, she shivered. Something in Snape's mind clicked.
"How thoughtless of me. Please," he said, removing his cloak and offering it to her.
O'Malley looked temporarily stunned. "Oh.no, thank you. Thank you, Severus, that's very kind," she stammered. "But I really should go now. Thank you." And she turned, silent as a shadow, disappearing down the stairs in a flash. Snape could still smell her perfume. * * * * * * *
Alone with his thoughts, the cold night air whipping against his face, Snape wondered why O'Malley acted the way she did. She was obviously afraid of something. Snape was almost sure that thing wasn't him, but even so he felt a pang of concern course through his body. He decided to return to the dungeons, and try to get some sleep. The dream was still weighing on his mind, but he managed to shut it out for the moment. He had become so good at shutting out his feelings, never allowing a soul to know what he was really thinking. All that practice of emotionless façade had its uses. It was much easier that way. He didn't have to feel anything. At least until breakfast.
The next day came on invisible wheels, but O'Malley wasn't there. Snape didn't ask where she might be, but he wondered all the same. For some odd reason he was looking forward to talking to her, even if he wouldn't dare bring up the nightmare. Especially after seeing her at the astronomy tower last night.
With each passing day, Snape noticed he felt more and more at ease around O'Malley. He looked forward to mealtimes when he would have a chance to talk to her. O'Malley was not just a fountain of knowledge, but excellent about presenting her ideas. On several occasions Snape came away from their conversation with a different viewpoint, even if he wasn't convinced about changing his way of thinking. That was the thing that impressed him the most. O'Malley discussed her ideas as if they were no better or more important than his ideas, simply a different way of looking at things. It was during those conversations when Snape felt his spirit had slightly more breathing room. Despite all of this, Snape could not find it in him to even ask her to tea. Interacting with her during school appointed meals was one thing. Tea was another thing completely.
The morning classes passed uneventfully. Snape was bitterly correcting a stack of first-year essays on sleeping potions, when Draco Malfoy burst into his office. "Sir, you've got to read this," he said between gasps. "It seems that everyone's precious Professor hasn't been entirely truthful." Looking exceedingly proud of himself, Malfoy thrust a newspaper at Snape.
"First of all," Snape sneered, "you will not barge in here like some lunatic in the future. What could have been so important that you failed to ignore my rule of knocking before entering?" Snape grabbed the newspaper, and began to peruse the headliner on the first page. His pulse began to quicken, as his eyes darted across the page.
"However," Snape continued, "this may be very worth my while. Thank you Draco, you may leave." Malfoy turned to leave. "And take five points for Slytherin," Snape added as an afterthought.
"Thank you, sir. Happy reading," Malfoy said with a self-satisfied smile.
Snape rolled his eyes as the door clicked shut. Then he rose, and magically sealed the door so no one would bother him. Settling back into his chair, he began to read "The Daily Prophet" article dated almost a year ago:
Today the Ministry of Magic brought one Réaltin (Samantha) O'Malley before the Wizengamot on charges of premeditated murder and abuse of office. Much to the dismay of Ministry officials, Réaltin reportedly misused the right to "harm if necessary," exploiting the power of Auror and going against her better judgment. "We can't believe it. She was always regarded as one of our best, but it appears the evidence is undeniable," the Minister said earlier. The murder, resulting in the death of a foreign wizard whose details we will not publish here, will most likely put an end to Réaltin's seven year career with the Ministry. Further details await as the trial progresses.
Snape read and reread the article, with more questions than answers. What was the meaning behind this woman's name? How did the trial play out? Did the murder accusation hold some truth? It was already time for class, but Snape knew he had to find out more.
* * * * * * *
After a long afternoon, Snape headed resignedly towards the staff room. He knew no more about O'Malley than the day she walked into Hogwarts, and was frustrated that he had thought he was making any progress with her. What a fool he and everyone else had been. Snape's initial instincts were right. He had recognized something within her eyes that troubled him. He knew there was something dangerous about her, because he knew what it was to be a servant of the Dark Lord. He knew there was something guilty about her, because he saw the same signs within himself.
Thankfully the staff room was empty. Snape sank into his usual chair, staring up at the ceiling. Snape closed his eyes, and sighed. He didn't hear the side door open, as he was deep in concentration. Snape was just pondering whether or not he should speak with Dumbledore about the matter, when O'Malley leaned in close to Snape's ear.
"Good afternoon, Severus," she whispered.
Snape flinched, snapping his eyes open instantaneously. O'Malley simply laughed at his behavior. "Well I didn't mean to scare you, old chap," she chuckled.
Snape's pulse was racing. He tried to make light of the situation. "I didn't know you were in the habit of sneaking up people, Sam."
"I didn't intend to sneak up on you, exactly. But it was just too tempting. Clearly you were deep in a state of deep concentration. What's preoccupying you?"
Snape combed his mind for a legitimate answer, while O'Malley poured herself some tea with her back to him.
"Nothing of great importance," said Snape coolly. "The students were particularly stressing today, for some reason."
"And no wonder," replied O'Malley. "You look positively exhausted, like you haven't gotten enough sleep. Tea?"
"Ah, no thank you," Snape said. "Actually I was just heading to the library. See you at dinner." Snape hastily swept out of the room. O'Malley merely shrugged her shoulders, and took a sip of her tea.
"Ah, but a man's reach should exceed his grasp, or what's a heaven for?"
~ Robert Browning
The weeks passed into October and Snape was no closer to learning what part, if any, O'Malley played in the Order of the Phoenix. By all accounts she appeared to be an exemplary Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, dedicated to her job. Inside of a month the class became one of the favorites, despite the amount of hard work. So far O'Malley had completed her teaching of basic methods, not even resting until the last student could produce a corporeal Patronus charm. O'Malley announced that now that she was teaching how to block an opponent's spells, the Dueling Club would soon be commenced. All the students were looking forward to the date, only a short two weeks away.
In the meantime Snape put his qualms to the back of his mind. He had more important things to worry about than a few discrepancies. Snape concentrated on his own duties, immersing himself in keeping up his many obligations. The familiarity of teaching kept his mind off what he didn't want to think about, but the weight he carried grew steadily heavier. Playing both ends against the middle between Dumbledore and Voldemort was more than a dangerous game. Before, he had no reason not to take the risk; he was willing to make the ultimate sacrifice to salvage the majority, if necessary. But things had changed when Sam O'Malley arrived at Hogwarts.
Snape turned to the photograph of Lily Evens less and less often. He never thought he would fail to look to it, not so much for the memory it retrieved but for what he wanted to remember about the past. It was Thursday night, and Snape sat in his drafty chambers in the dungeon. The fire was dying out, only a few glowing embers remaining. As Snape watched them he let the walls he built up for the day slide away, and his mind began to wander. Somewhere between sleep, partly conscious and party unconscious, Snape breathed deeply and closed his eyes. The memories of the past always seemed to catch up with him at the end of the day. Earlier that afternoon he had singled out Neville Longbottom in the hallway, and embarrassed him in front his friends. With a look of fear on his face Neville dropped his books, quickly gathered them up and hurried away. The way Neville looked at him.like he were some sort of monster..Snape tried to push away the thought without success. It must have been the same look he had given his own father. The same flinch, the same fear. Then why did treat the boy in the same manner? Snape knew, but didn't want to think about it. His father was coming towards him, and his mother was sobbing as usual. He was younger, cowering just like Neville. He backed up until his back was against the wall.
The distance was closing.Snape woke up with a jolt, in a cold sweat. He realized that his hands formed tight fists, and that his knuckles were white. Snape waited until his breathing returned to normal. Just as his eyes began to water, looking at the burning embers, Snape forced a scowl on his face and tried to shut out everything he had dreamed about. But the dream still sat in the pit of his stomach, forming a disturbing knot that wouldn't let him rest.
Snape rose suddenly and put on his cloak. Even thought the nights were getting cooler, he decided to go up to the North tower for some fresh air. He wanted nothing more than to clear his head from all the madness. His mind was cloudy, and he was desperate to lift that weight before it became more than he could take.
Snape climbed swiftly up the astronomy tower with his cloak whipping behind him. It was windy, this night. He had just reached the landing when he saw O'Malley leaning on the edge of tower's stone walls, gazing resolutely up the night sky. She whipped around as she heard him approach, as if startled. As she saw him her face relaxed, and she turned around again.
"What are you doing up here at this hour?" a surprised Snape asked.
"Good evening, Severus," she said softly, without facing him.
"Good evening," he said cautiously.
"It's a clear night, tonight. I'm looking at the stars."
"I'll leave you alone, then," Snape said.
"No. You don't have to do that," she replied quietly. "It's as much your sky as it is mine. And besides, I'm about ready to leave, as I forgot my cloak. I didn't know it would be so cold tonight."
Snape walked closer, then turned his gaze towards the sky. O'Malley sighed. "And what are you doing at the Astronomy tower so late, Severus?" she asked.
"Why the same as you. I come here to think, away from the monotony of the dungeons."
"One drafty place for another, eh?" O'Malley said casually.
"Indeed," he replied. Snape could tell he had interrupted something. A train of thought, perhaps.
A few minutes passed in silence. O'Malley was staring blankly out into the indigo blue sky, hardly breathing. Suddenly, she shivered. Something in Snape's mind clicked.
"How thoughtless of me. Please," he said, removing his cloak and offering it to her.
O'Malley looked temporarily stunned. "Oh.no, thank you. Thank you, Severus, that's very kind," she stammered. "But I really should go now. Thank you." And she turned, silent as a shadow, disappearing down the stairs in a flash. Snape could still smell her perfume. * * * * * * *
Alone with his thoughts, the cold night air whipping against his face, Snape wondered why O'Malley acted the way she did. She was obviously afraid of something. Snape was almost sure that thing wasn't him, but even so he felt a pang of concern course through his body. He decided to return to the dungeons, and try to get some sleep. The dream was still weighing on his mind, but he managed to shut it out for the moment. He had become so good at shutting out his feelings, never allowing a soul to know what he was really thinking. All that practice of emotionless façade had its uses. It was much easier that way. He didn't have to feel anything. At least until breakfast.
The next day came on invisible wheels, but O'Malley wasn't there. Snape didn't ask where she might be, but he wondered all the same. For some odd reason he was looking forward to talking to her, even if he wouldn't dare bring up the nightmare. Especially after seeing her at the astronomy tower last night.
With each passing day, Snape noticed he felt more and more at ease around O'Malley. He looked forward to mealtimes when he would have a chance to talk to her. O'Malley was not just a fountain of knowledge, but excellent about presenting her ideas. On several occasions Snape came away from their conversation with a different viewpoint, even if he wasn't convinced about changing his way of thinking. That was the thing that impressed him the most. O'Malley discussed her ideas as if they were no better or more important than his ideas, simply a different way of looking at things. It was during those conversations when Snape felt his spirit had slightly more breathing room. Despite all of this, Snape could not find it in him to even ask her to tea. Interacting with her during school appointed meals was one thing. Tea was another thing completely.
The morning classes passed uneventfully. Snape was bitterly correcting a stack of first-year essays on sleeping potions, when Draco Malfoy burst into his office. "Sir, you've got to read this," he said between gasps. "It seems that everyone's precious Professor hasn't been entirely truthful." Looking exceedingly proud of himself, Malfoy thrust a newspaper at Snape.
"First of all," Snape sneered, "you will not barge in here like some lunatic in the future. What could have been so important that you failed to ignore my rule of knocking before entering?" Snape grabbed the newspaper, and began to peruse the headliner on the first page. His pulse began to quicken, as his eyes darted across the page.
"However," Snape continued, "this may be very worth my while. Thank you Draco, you may leave." Malfoy turned to leave. "And take five points for Slytherin," Snape added as an afterthought.
"Thank you, sir. Happy reading," Malfoy said with a self-satisfied smile.
Snape rolled his eyes as the door clicked shut. Then he rose, and magically sealed the door so no one would bother him. Settling back into his chair, he began to read "The Daily Prophet" article dated almost a year ago:
Today the Ministry of Magic brought one Réaltin (Samantha) O'Malley before the Wizengamot on charges of premeditated murder and abuse of office. Much to the dismay of Ministry officials, Réaltin reportedly misused the right to "harm if necessary," exploiting the power of Auror and going against her better judgment. "We can't believe it. She was always regarded as one of our best, but it appears the evidence is undeniable," the Minister said earlier. The murder, resulting in the death of a foreign wizard whose details we will not publish here, will most likely put an end to Réaltin's seven year career with the Ministry. Further details await as the trial progresses.
Snape read and reread the article, with more questions than answers. What was the meaning behind this woman's name? How did the trial play out? Did the murder accusation hold some truth? It was already time for class, but Snape knew he had to find out more.
* * * * * * *
After a long afternoon, Snape headed resignedly towards the staff room. He knew no more about O'Malley than the day she walked into Hogwarts, and was frustrated that he had thought he was making any progress with her. What a fool he and everyone else had been. Snape's initial instincts were right. He had recognized something within her eyes that troubled him. He knew there was something dangerous about her, because he knew what it was to be a servant of the Dark Lord. He knew there was something guilty about her, because he saw the same signs within himself.
Thankfully the staff room was empty. Snape sank into his usual chair, staring up at the ceiling. Snape closed his eyes, and sighed. He didn't hear the side door open, as he was deep in concentration. Snape was just pondering whether or not he should speak with Dumbledore about the matter, when O'Malley leaned in close to Snape's ear.
"Good afternoon, Severus," she whispered.
Snape flinched, snapping his eyes open instantaneously. O'Malley simply laughed at his behavior. "Well I didn't mean to scare you, old chap," she chuckled.
Snape's pulse was racing. He tried to make light of the situation. "I didn't know you were in the habit of sneaking up people, Sam."
"I didn't intend to sneak up on you, exactly. But it was just too tempting. Clearly you were deep in a state of deep concentration. What's preoccupying you?"
Snape combed his mind for a legitimate answer, while O'Malley poured herself some tea with her back to him.
"Nothing of great importance," said Snape coolly. "The students were particularly stressing today, for some reason."
"And no wonder," replied O'Malley. "You look positively exhausted, like you haven't gotten enough sleep. Tea?"
"Ah, no thank you," Snape said. "Actually I was just heading to the library. See you at dinner." Snape hastily swept out of the room. O'Malley merely shrugged her shoulders, and took a sip of her tea.