A/N: Well, another Thursday, another update... I made it on time again!!!
::congratulates herself:: This is a bit of a background chapter, clearing
out a few things, and setting everything ready for later developments...
it's not very exciting, but just wait a couple of chapters or so!!!
Disclaimer: I don't own the Harry Potter characters, you already know that, and I'm not making any profit out of this, unless you count as a profit the tingly feeling I get when I read your reviews...
Rating: PG-13 just to be on the safe side (I don't think people make much of the rating anyway...)
FAMILY MATTERS
PART IX
Svetlana slept uneasily that night: her argument with Severus, the surprisingly accurate discovery made by Harry Potter and, above all, Siena's watery look seeing her parents argue, all conspired to rob her of her sleep.
What Siena had seen, what Serguei suspected, that was what both Severus and her wanted to avoid, him by leaving them, she by never going back to him, and both failing. Svetlana knew the Hell of living in a dysfunctional family, and she suspected Severus did as well, and she was ready to sacrifice many things to spare her children that particular experience. But it seemed as if it was too much for them to try and keep their tempers in check; looking back on her life, Svetlana was sure she had lost her control more time during her too-brief life with Severus that in the almost thirty years she had lived without him.
Three doors away, Severus' thoughts were going exactly the same way, although he wasn't as far into the Swamps of Denial as his wife, and he could admit that he didn't *want* Svetlana and the children out of his life. What was more, he was feeling so guilty by the scene he had just taken part in, that he was ready to acknowledge that Svetlana hadn't been as forgotten as she though she had been during those years they had lived apart. In fact, he had written and burnt many letters asking for forgiveness and the return of the family he had lost //Lost?! Thrown away, more like//. Forcing himself to sleep, Severus decided to lay off the *talks* for a while, to see if things calmed down a bit.
"Come *on*, mother, they won't bite you" insisted Serguei, giving his mother an stern look.
"I'd like to see them try, with you defending me" she answered, half- mocking, half-serious. He huffed at her, and Svetlana condescended with a smile "Fine, take me to your leaders"
"To my leaders?! They wish!" Serguei started walking down towards the dungeons, on the first Monday afternoon of the term that announced the upcoming winter. His steps, and his mother's, echoed sinisterly in the damp and dark corridors, but he seemed unaware of the Gothic mood. Svetlana ignored it as well, glad to have an excuse to continue hiding from her husband, which she had managed to do during most of the day, with his help.
Soon they reached the entrance to the Slytherin common room, and Svetlana wondered once again if it was a wise decision. Dumbledore, being the eerily understanding wizard he was, had assembled her, Mandy McGonagall, the many Sprouts, Valerie Sinistra and Etienne Marceau, to tell them that they, as the relatives of the four Heads of House, while not expected to take an official role in the running of the school, were allowed to give 'moral support'. When asked exactly what he meant, he laid back in his chair and smiled, with a twinkle in his blue eyes: "Help with homework, prepare the Quidditch team, give advice, motherly or not, and generally, be the human side of the Head of House". Svetlana had the nasty inkling that the old wizard was looking specially at her when he had said this, but she had smiled anyhow, and after classes she had asked Serguei to take her to his common room.
"Runespoor" said Serguei to a blank wall, which slid open. Svetlana had the memory of the night she had followed Severus into the same empty room very present, but it was dismissed when she saw the many heads that turned to see her from the green armchairs. There were at least forty Slytherins assembled, almost the full house, all looking expectantly at her.
"Svetlana, Mrs Snape, how nice to see you!" exclaimed Draco, gliding up to her from his special place next to the fireplace "Please, take a seat."
"Thanks, Draco. Would you be so kind to gather all your house-mates here, please? I need to make an announcement" She was going to do this right, or se wasn't going to do it; anyway, she doubted Severus would like it too much. //Since when are you back to caring about what he likes?//
The Head Boy hurried off to obey her command, and the remaining students started to take places from where they could see Svetlana. With a smile, she signalled Serguei to go and join his friends and impassively waited until all the Slytherins were assembled before her.
"Good afternoon, Slytherins" she started, with the best English accent she could manage "I'm Mrs Svetlana Snape, as you probably know by now. I had a talk with Headmaster Dumbledore this morning" Her cold blue eyes quickly smothered all the mutinous murmurs that the name raised, and she continued "and he kindly informed me of a Hogwarts tradition that states that the relatives of the Heads of House have a vital role in the running of the House. I haven't been able to take upon my duties until now, but I fully intend to make up for lost time. My job will be to take care of you in the academic and non-academic activities that your Head of House doesn't have the time or patience to look after: Quidditch, homework, personal problems, matters that affect the House as a whole, or you as individuals"
An excited chit-chat broke amongst the Slytherins, not used to have someone looking after them. A smirk threatened to break through Svetlana's façade, but she wasn't done yet.
"Don't get excited, though" she said in a very low voice that still had the power to silence the students. "I am no Mother Hen, and I don't intend to become one. I will not attend you if you are going to ask me how to get rid of dimples, or if *that* boy will ever invite you to the Yule Ball. Homework I will look after; Quidditch I will leave in the capable hands of Mr Draco Malfoy; personal matters, of importance, can also be consulted with me, although I don't promise anything else than a receptive ear." Svetlana looked around her, pleased to note that her speech was being listened to attentively. "Now, can someone here tell me when was the last time Slytherin won the House Championship, or the Quidditch Cup?"
An uncomfortable silence followed the question, until Blaise Zabini, the seventh-year boy, answered from his place in a corner.
"Seven years losing the House Championship to Gryffindor, five years losing the Quidditch Cup" answered the dark haired boy with a twisted smirk. Another murmur broke out between the Slytherins, and an impulsive third- year expressed the general feeling.
"It's not our fault! The Headmaster favours Gryffindors and Potter over everything. The Championship has been stolen from us many times, it's simply not fair!" Xander Nott finished his little lecture and received the whispered agreement of his house-mates.
"Does that mean that Slytherin cannot worm its way out of the Headmaster's jade tricks? Are Dumbledore and Potter being too much for Salazar Slytherin's House?" asked Svetlana mockingly; the murmurs became more incensed and angry, and even Serguei gave her a doubtful look. "I'm proud to belong to the House of Salazar Slytherin and other famous wizards and witches of more recent fame," she wasn't going to say Voldemort's name yet, but she kept it as a bait "but I am appalled of belonging to a house which has lost the House Championship to Gryffindor for seven years running, and whose members cannot pull the simplest of pranks without being caught and punished. Where is the cunning, where is the adroitness? It seems that I will have to help you with that as well..."
A dry cough resounded through the dungeon, and everyone turned to see Severus Snape standing close to the entrance, his black robes merging with the shadows behind him, his disapproving and sallow face apparently floating on thin air. Svetlana bit her lower lip, straightened her back and tried to look as if she hadn't been startled by the sudden appearance of her husband.
"Mr Malfoy, I need to have a word with you, *now*" said the Potions Master, not waiting for an answer but turning on his heel and leaving, closely followed by the Head Boy. Svetlana quietly let out the breath she had been holding, and turned back to her audience.
"Which year has the most problems with an assignment?" The first-years raised their hands tentatively, saying something about a History of Magic essay which no-one knew what it was about. "Gather round here, all of the first-years; the rest of you can go off to your business, and come back if you need something, after I'm done with this"
In the Potions classroom, Snape was having a hard time trying to hide his discomfort to the perceptive Death-Eater-in-training who was standing dutifully in front of him. It was a nasty surprise to go into what he considered his domain, to soothe his nerves with a small lecture, and find Svetlana comfortably settled there, surrounded by *his* students, giving them the speech he had been wanting to deliver for years, being looked at with the respect Slytherins only granted one of their own.
"You needed me, sir?" asked Draco curiously; he had a good idea of where Severus stood with his wife, but he was discreet enough to feign ignorance and thence earn the appreciation that gave him so many good grades in Potions.
"What was that circus in the common room, Mr Malfoy?" asked Snape, deciding to be brutal "I don't remember authorising it."
"It was by orders of the Headmaster, I think" replied the youngest Malfoy, hiding a smile "Apparently Mrs Snape was advised to play a more active role in the management of the House, along with all the relatives of the Heads of House, and she was just introducing us to it..."
"The Headmaster ordered it, you said?" asked Severus between gritted teeth: he was going to kill Albus for this, no doubt about it.
"That's what *she* said" Draco wasn't going to take the blame for anyone, not even for Svetlana.
"Very well, Mr Malfoy, you are dismissed" Draco left, giving a last look over his shoulder to the fuming Professor, and closed the door softly behind him.
If Severus Snape was almost family to Draco, Svetlana Snape wasn't a stranger either. Lucius and Narcissa had taken to inviting her to Malfoy Manor quite often after the birth of Serguei, and Draco had learnt to look forward to her visits since he was six-years-old, wide-eyed and captivated by the young woman's timid smile. As he grew older, and she grew out of her shy self and into the formidable woman she was now, they began to develop a kind of camaraderie, based on half-smiles during Lucius' never-ending discourses, apparently casual winks when Narcissa wasn't looking, or a kiss on the cheek that ended up rather lower than originally intended. During his insane moments just before going to sleep, Draco often wondered if Svetlana was really flirting with him, but when he was awake and conscious of the implications that would have (for starters, she was Snape's wife, and she had a son going to school with him, for Merlin's sake!), he passed it off as nothing more than familiarity towards a child she knew since very young.
Harry closed the gold-rimmed pages of the antique edition of 'The Three Musketeers' he had been reading, and looked over to where Mandy McGonagall was trying her best to referee one of those far-too-frequent rows between Hermione and Ron. The whole House, tired of hearing them argue day and day out, had jumped at the chance when Mandy had offered personal counselling.
Looking away from his best friends, and onto the book at his lap, The Boy Who Lived asked himself in quiet desperation if there was something that could be done against the latest danger uncovered by the Order. According to the book, and Harry had no reason to believe otherwise, Buckingham had been one of the powerful men of his time, if the not the most powerful, and yet a member of Les Fleurs had reached him and caused his death in the strict deadline given. And he, Harry Potter, was probably their next target. How long would it be until they infiltrated Hogwarts, if they hadn't done so already, and finished him off? They could even make it look like an accident, if they were as efficient as Dumbledore thought they were. Even the old wizard seemed powerless against the silent organisation...
'Those who work with them will never admit it, those who work against them rarely live to tell the tale': he certainly fit in the second category, so did Mad-Eye Moody and Harry still remembered the detailed description that The Daily Prophet had given about his death.
============================================================= Murder of an ex-Auror. Dark Mark not sighted. Mad-Eye Moody had foreseen his own murder.
Last night, at about mid-night, the house of ex-Auror and retired Ministry official Alastor Moody was attacked, and his only occupant murdered, in what no doubt the public opinion will label another Dark attack, even with the disagreement of the Ministry: "We are reviewing all options, but the Dark Mark hasn't been sighted, and the crime doesn't present the characteristics of a Death Eater attack", informed a very tense Ministry official at the scene of the murder. Apparently, the house was undisturbed, the security wards hadn't been set off, or removed, and all Dark sensors were quiet when Aurors went to check on their old colleague, alarmed for his absence at various important meetings in which he still was required. The body was found in the dormitory, dressed in a night-shirt and sleepers; according to the medi- wizard who was in charge of the autopsy, Moody had been murdered using the Killing Curse, and completely by surprise. It's that last detail what doesn't seem to fit in the puzzle. All who knew Moody, including his pupils at Hogwarts, knew of his admirable reflexes, his magical-eye, and his motto: "Constant vigilance!". Let's not forget that the house had some of the most complicated safety wards (Gringotts' curse-breakers had to work on them for several hours before the Aurors could be let in), powerful Dark Magic detectors that didn't register anything at all, and several well-trained familiars that apparently didn't put up a fight. We will remember Alastor Mad-Eye Moody as an example to follow on the fight against He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, since his proverbial battles against Death Eaters before the first disappearance of the Dark Lord, until his last years spent training his successors. ============================================================
Harry tiredly rubbed the bridge of his nose under his glasses, and turned to the reconciling Hermione and Ron, who were going off somewhere to celebrate their new-found harmony. Mandy McGonagall followed them out with her warm brown eyes, and then went to sit in the armchair next to Harry's.
"Is there something you want to talk about, dear?"
Disclaimer: I don't own the Harry Potter characters, you already know that, and I'm not making any profit out of this, unless you count as a profit the tingly feeling I get when I read your reviews...
Rating: PG-13 just to be on the safe side (I don't think people make much of the rating anyway...)
FAMILY MATTERS
PART IX
Svetlana slept uneasily that night: her argument with Severus, the surprisingly accurate discovery made by Harry Potter and, above all, Siena's watery look seeing her parents argue, all conspired to rob her of her sleep.
What Siena had seen, what Serguei suspected, that was what both Severus and her wanted to avoid, him by leaving them, she by never going back to him, and both failing. Svetlana knew the Hell of living in a dysfunctional family, and she suspected Severus did as well, and she was ready to sacrifice many things to spare her children that particular experience. But it seemed as if it was too much for them to try and keep their tempers in check; looking back on her life, Svetlana was sure she had lost her control more time during her too-brief life with Severus that in the almost thirty years she had lived without him.
Three doors away, Severus' thoughts were going exactly the same way, although he wasn't as far into the Swamps of Denial as his wife, and he could admit that he didn't *want* Svetlana and the children out of his life. What was more, he was feeling so guilty by the scene he had just taken part in, that he was ready to acknowledge that Svetlana hadn't been as forgotten as she though she had been during those years they had lived apart. In fact, he had written and burnt many letters asking for forgiveness and the return of the family he had lost //Lost?! Thrown away, more like//. Forcing himself to sleep, Severus decided to lay off the *talks* for a while, to see if things calmed down a bit.
"Come *on*, mother, they won't bite you" insisted Serguei, giving his mother an stern look.
"I'd like to see them try, with you defending me" she answered, half- mocking, half-serious. He huffed at her, and Svetlana condescended with a smile "Fine, take me to your leaders"
"To my leaders?! They wish!" Serguei started walking down towards the dungeons, on the first Monday afternoon of the term that announced the upcoming winter. His steps, and his mother's, echoed sinisterly in the damp and dark corridors, but he seemed unaware of the Gothic mood. Svetlana ignored it as well, glad to have an excuse to continue hiding from her husband, which she had managed to do during most of the day, with his help.
Soon they reached the entrance to the Slytherin common room, and Svetlana wondered once again if it was a wise decision. Dumbledore, being the eerily understanding wizard he was, had assembled her, Mandy McGonagall, the many Sprouts, Valerie Sinistra and Etienne Marceau, to tell them that they, as the relatives of the four Heads of House, while not expected to take an official role in the running of the school, were allowed to give 'moral support'. When asked exactly what he meant, he laid back in his chair and smiled, with a twinkle in his blue eyes: "Help with homework, prepare the Quidditch team, give advice, motherly or not, and generally, be the human side of the Head of House". Svetlana had the nasty inkling that the old wizard was looking specially at her when he had said this, but she had smiled anyhow, and after classes she had asked Serguei to take her to his common room.
"Runespoor" said Serguei to a blank wall, which slid open. Svetlana had the memory of the night she had followed Severus into the same empty room very present, but it was dismissed when she saw the many heads that turned to see her from the green armchairs. There were at least forty Slytherins assembled, almost the full house, all looking expectantly at her.
"Svetlana, Mrs Snape, how nice to see you!" exclaimed Draco, gliding up to her from his special place next to the fireplace "Please, take a seat."
"Thanks, Draco. Would you be so kind to gather all your house-mates here, please? I need to make an announcement" She was going to do this right, or se wasn't going to do it; anyway, she doubted Severus would like it too much. //Since when are you back to caring about what he likes?//
The Head Boy hurried off to obey her command, and the remaining students started to take places from where they could see Svetlana. With a smile, she signalled Serguei to go and join his friends and impassively waited until all the Slytherins were assembled before her.
"Good afternoon, Slytherins" she started, with the best English accent she could manage "I'm Mrs Svetlana Snape, as you probably know by now. I had a talk with Headmaster Dumbledore this morning" Her cold blue eyes quickly smothered all the mutinous murmurs that the name raised, and she continued "and he kindly informed me of a Hogwarts tradition that states that the relatives of the Heads of House have a vital role in the running of the House. I haven't been able to take upon my duties until now, but I fully intend to make up for lost time. My job will be to take care of you in the academic and non-academic activities that your Head of House doesn't have the time or patience to look after: Quidditch, homework, personal problems, matters that affect the House as a whole, or you as individuals"
An excited chit-chat broke amongst the Slytherins, not used to have someone looking after them. A smirk threatened to break through Svetlana's façade, but she wasn't done yet.
"Don't get excited, though" she said in a very low voice that still had the power to silence the students. "I am no Mother Hen, and I don't intend to become one. I will not attend you if you are going to ask me how to get rid of dimples, or if *that* boy will ever invite you to the Yule Ball. Homework I will look after; Quidditch I will leave in the capable hands of Mr Draco Malfoy; personal matters, of importance, can also be consulted with me, although I don't promise anything else than a receptive ear." Svetlana looked around her, pleased to note that her speech was being listened to attentively. "Now, can someone here tell me when was the last time Slytherin won the House Championship, or the Quidditch Cup?"
An uncomfortable silence followed the question, until Blaise Zabini, the seventh-year boy, answered from his place in a corner.
"Seven years losing the House Championship to Gryffindor, five years losing the Quidditch Cup" answered the dark haired boy with a twisted smirk. Another murmur broke out between the Slytherins, and an impulsive third- year expressed the general feeling.
"It's not our fault! The Headmaster favours Gryffindors and Potter over everything. The Championship has been stolen from us many times, it's simply not fair!" Xander Nott finished his little lecture and received the whispered agreement of his house-mates.
"Does that mean that Slytherin cannot worm its way out of the Headmaster's jade tricks? Are Dumbledore and Potter being too much for Salazar Slytherin's House?" asked Svetlana mockingly; the murmurs became more incensed and angry, and even Serguei gave her a doubtful look. "I'm proud to belong to the House of Salazar Slytherin and other famous wizards and witches of more recent fame," she wasn't going to say Voldemort's name yet, but she kept it as a bait "but I am appalled of belonging to a house which has lost the House Championship to Gryffindor for seven years running, and whose members cannot pull the simplest of pranks without being caught and punished. Where is the cunning, where is the adroitness? It seems that I will have to help you with that as well..."
A dry cough resounded through the dungeon, and everyone turned to see Severus Snape standing close to the entrance, his black robes merging with the shadows behind him, his disapproving and sallow face apparently floating on thin air. Svetlana bit her lower lip, straightened her back and tried to look as if she hadn't been startled by the sudden appearance of her husband.
"Mr Malfoy, I need to have a word with you, *now*" said the Potions Master, not waiting for an answer but turning on his heel and leaving, closely followed by the Head Boy. Svetlana quietly let out the breath she had been holding, and turned back to her audience.
"Which year has the most problems with an assignment?" The first-years raised their hands tentatively, saying something about a History of Magic essay which no-one knew what it was about. "Gather round here, all of the first-years; the rest of you can go off to your business, and come back if you need something, after I'm done with this"
In the Potions classroom, Snape was having a hard time trying to hide his discomfort to the perceptive Death-Eater-in-training who was standing dutifully in front of him. It was a nasty surprise to go into what he considered his domain, to soothe his nerves with a small lecture, and find Svetlana comfortably settled there, surrounded by *his* students, giving them the speech he had been wanting to deliver for years, being looked at with the respect Slytherins only granted one of their own.
"You needed me, sir?" asked Draco curiously; he had a good idea of where Severus stood with his wife, but he was discreet enough to feign ignorance and thence earn the appreciation that gave him so many good grades in Potions.
"What was that circus in the common room, Mr Malfoy?" asked Snape, deciding to be brutal "I don't remember authorising it."
"It was by orders of the Headmaster, I think" replied the youngest Malfoy, hiding a smile "Apparently Mrs Snape was advised to play a more active role in the management of the House, along with all the relatives of the Heads of House, and she was just introducing us to it..."
"The Headmaster ordered it, you said?" asked Severus between gritted teeth: he was going to kill Albus for this, no doubt about it.
"That's what *she* said" Draco wasn't going to take the blame for anyone, not even for Svetlana.
"Very well, Mr Malfoy, you are dismissed" Draco left, giving a last look over his shoulder to the fuming Professor, and closed the door softly behind him.
If Severus Snape was almost family to Draco, Svetlana Snape wasn't a stranger either. Lucius and Narcissa had taken to inviting her to Malfoy Manor quite often after the birth of Serguei, and Draco had learnt to look forward to her visits since he was six-years-old, wide-eyed and captivated by the young woman's timid smile. As he grew older, and she grew out of her shy self and into the formidable woman she was now, they began to develop a kind of camaraderie, based on half-smiles during Lucius' never-ending discourses, apparently casual winks when Narcissa wasn't looking, or a kiss on the cheek that ended up rather lower than originally intended. During his insane moments just before going to sleep, Draco often wondered if Svetlana was really flirting with him, but when he was awake and conscious of the implications that would have (for starters, she was Snape's wife, and she had a son going to school with him, for Merlin's sake!), he passed it off as nothing more than familiarity towards a child she knew since very young.
Harry closed the gold-rimmed pages of the antique edition of 'The Three Musketeers' he had been reading, and looked over to where Mandy McGonagall was trying her best to referee one of those far-too-frequent rows between Hermione and Ron. The whole House, tired of hearing them argue day and day out, had jumped at the chance when Mandy had offered personal counselling.
Looking away from his best friends, and onto the book at his lap, The Boy Who Lived asked himself in quiet desperation if there was something that could be done against the latest danger uncovered by the Order. According to the book, and Harry had no reason to believe otherwise, Buckingham had been one of the powerful men of his time, if the not the most powerful, and yet a member of Les Fleurs had reached him and caused his death in the strict deadline given. And he, Harry Potter, was probably their next target. How long would it be until they infiltrated Hogwarts, if they hadn't done so already, and finished him off? They could even make it look like an accident, if they were as efficient as Dumbledore thought they were. Even the old wizard seemed powerless against the silent organisation...
'Those who work with them will never admit it, those who work against them rarely live to tell the tale': he certainly fit in the second category, so did Mad-Eye Moody and Harry still remembered the detailed description that The Daily Prophet had given about his death.
============================================================= Murder of an ex-Auror. Dark Mark not sighted. Mad-Eye Moody had foreseen his own murder.
Last night, at about mid-night, the house of ex-Auror and retired Ministry official Alastor Moody was attacked, and his only occupant murdered, in what no doubt the public opinion will label another Dark attack, even with the disagreement of the Ministry: "We are reviewing all options, but the Dark Mark hasn't been sighted, and the crime doesn't present the characteristics of a Death Eater attack", informed a very tense Ministry official at the scene of the murder. Apparently, the house was undisturbed, the security wards hadn't been set off, or removed, and all Dark sensors were quiet when Aurors went to check on their old colleague, alarmed for his absence at various important meetings in which he still was required. The body was found in the dormitory, dressed in a night-shirt and sleepers; according to the medi- wizard who was in charge of the autopsy, Moody had been murdered using the Killing Curse, and completely by surprise. It's that last detail what doesn't seem to fit in the puzzle. All who knew Moody, including his pupils at Hogwarts, knew of his admirable reflexes, his magical-eye, and his motto: "Constant vigilance!". Let's not forget that the house had some of the most complicated safety wards (Gringotts' curse-breakers had to work on them for several hours before the Aurors could be let in), powerful Dark Magic detectors that didn't register anything at all, and several well-trained familiars that apparently didn't put up a fight. We will remember Alastor Mad-Eye Moody as an example to follow on the fight against He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, since his proverbial battles against Death Eaters before the first disappearance of the Dark Lord, until his last years spent training his successors. ============================================================
Harry tiredly rubbed the bridge of his nose under his glasses, and turned to the reconciling Hermione and Ron, who were going off somewhere to celebrate their new-found harmony. Mandy McGonagall followed them out with her warm brown eyes, and then went to sit in the armchair next to Harry's.
"Is there something you want to talk about, dear?"