Of Charcoal and Rose
By: ann no aku
General Disclaimer: Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowling.
Chapter Seven
Author's Notes: It is the end. Dare I do an epilogue? Um, also, sorry so long! But this should really all be one chapter.
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Snape awoke to a painful headache and a small bump on the back of his head. He was angrier, if possible, than he had ever been before. Lucius Malfoy had really won. The damned man had been right. Claudia did hate him, and there was not way to change it. But he didn't care.
His fist met the wall. Blood trickled from his knuckles onto the floor. He felt pathetic. How could he have gotten so attached to the Muggle? And when? He shouldn't have had sex with her; it had only complicated things even more. She was pregnant with his child. She carried a baby capable of magic. Soon, he'd have to teach his own son or daughter.
He dragged himself to the washroom and studied himself in the mirror. Why had she chosen someone as hideous as he? Would his child be just as unattractive? Snape brushed away his stringy hair from his eyes. How could he have been so damn foolish? He scrubbed his face raw until the skin started to peel, then bunched up his robe in his hands. He disapparated back to the Screaming Shack and walked to Hogwarts. He felt like the emptiest he had ever felt in his entire excuse for a life.
The trek back to the school seemed to have taken longer than the walk from it just hours earlier. The bright morning sun peeked cautiously from above the trees as if asking permission to show itself before him. The cool air had a bite of winter and smelled softly of frost. It was November. He could hardly wait for the winter holidays so he could relax. It was all he could do.
Still, after all that had happened in the matter of eight hours (at the least), what bothered him most was that he was going to have a child. He, of all people, was going to be a father. And he'd never be able to see it, either. Lucius had ensured that. But there was the chance he'd still be the potions master at Hogwarts if he did not retire first. He had what? Eleven? Twelve years? He'd be forty seven by then. But how young would Ms. Wallace be? Snape realized then that he did not even know her age, much less what she did in her spare time (not as though he cared). Would his child have a different last name? Would there be a new father?
"You look exhausted, Severus," Dumbledore greeted as though waiting for him. "Come into my office."
He continued to march on, trying not to show any emotion on his hardened face. Once inside the headmaster's office, he plopped down tiredly in a chair by the desk. Why couldn't he just go rest in his quarters?
"What happened, Severus? You were gone for nearly nine hours and Tom tells me you were in his pub with the same Muggle woman as before. You also have a faint contusion on your face. I take it that things did not go well?"
"No," he admitted. "Lucius wanted to get back at me for leaving the Death Eaters, I think."
"I see," Albus said removing his spectacles to rub his temples. "Well, you made the right decision." When Snape said nothing, he looked up at him with concern. "Is something else troubling you that you are not telling me?"
Yes, he thought bitterly, the Muggle is pregnant. "She's with child," he sighed.
"With yours, I presume?"
Why must he answer that ridiculous question? "Yes."
"Oh," Dumbledore paused to search for some comforting words. He found none. "Does she know?"
"Know what?" he spat. "Sorry."
"It's alright, Severus, I understand. Does she know anything of our world? About you?"
"No."
"What is her name?"
"Claudia Wallace; she's an artist. Is there anything else-"
"The one who painted that picture in your quarters? Interesting."
Snape did not bother to ask how it was interesting; he was toot tired to care. "Albus, I had a very rough night-"
"You are permitted to leave, Severus, but only if you tell me one more thing."
"What is it?" He had already leapt up from his chair ready to leave.
"How do you plan on telling Ms. Wallace the truth?"
"I don't; she doesn't want to know. As a matter of fact, she wants nothing more to do with me and told me so."
"Because of this past evening?"
"Lucius brought me to his manor to kill her and made it a point in informing her of so." He stood awkwardly by the doorway. "If you'll excuse me," he fled the office feeling no better than he had earlier. Apparently talking out problems does not work.
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Ms. Wallace sat at the breakfast table sifting through the day's post and found an odd letter addressed to her with no return address. The envelope was made of a thick yellow-brown paper and written on with an old fashioned script. She carefully broke the red wax seal on the back and unfolded the parchment. On the inside, the letter read:
20th January 1995
Dear Ms. Wallace,
You are cordially invited to present your finest artwork to Mr. Albus Dumbledore today at three P.M. He is looking for someone to paint an updated portrait of him. Please meet at the shop in between the bookshop and record shop in London at one o'clock. Your compliance would be greatly appreciated.
Sincerely,
Minerva McGonagall
Deputy Headmistress
"A bit of short notice, don't you think?" She set the letter down on the table only to pick it up seconds later when something captured her eyes.
P.S. I apologize for the short notice. A compensation fee will be given.
The postman's script had just appeared on the letter by itself. "One o'clock?" she repeated. "Already it's nearly noon! I'd have less than an hour to get there." Still, even though all seemed impossible and insane, she agreed and rushed to ready herself. The man had sounded fairly important (especially to offer a compensation fee), and she needed the support after failing to get her art in the London Gallery just months ago.
"It's just not what the public wants, Love," Mr. Padgett had told her. "They want to see justice, not romance."
Bull shit, she thought as she pulled her nylons over her calves.
"Besides, they don't want a pregnant artist! You're supposed to be a role model to these people. No one wants a single mother."
So the truth comes out, she had thought that day.
A cab arrived shortly at her home giving her only twenty minutes to be at the rendezvous point. When asked where exactly he was supposed to take her, she just gave him the street names. Claudia had even almost forgotten samples of her works and only remembered because the portfolio bag was exactly where she had left it months ago—buried deep within her closet next to her umbrella. After somehow always managing to come across him, she would never forget her umbrella because the man brought rain with him wherever he went.
"Here you are, Miss."
"Thank you."
"That'll be £15, please," he informed.
She fished out a twenty pound note and crumbled it in his hand.
"What? Only a £5 tip?!"
"I'm late," she snapped and slammed the door shut. Almost as soon as she had done so, a tall skinny young man with fiery red hair came up to her.
"Ms. Wallace?" he asked.
"Yes. Who-"
"Percy Weasley. Mr. Dumbledore had asked me to escort you." He checked his timepiece. "It's already a quarter past. Come on, Miss, or we'll miss the train." He rushed her into and through the Leaky Cauldron out to a back entrance to the Platform 9 ¾. "The ride is about one and a half hours," he continued.
"Where are we going?"
"Mr. Dumbledore is the headmaster of a school for gifted children."
"So I am to meet him at this school, then?"
"It's a boarding school, and he has been very busy as of late. Today is one of the few days he's had off all year." He led her to a table on the train. "Have you eaten?" he asked in attempt to change the subject.
"I had a late-"
"Ah, good afternoon!" the train stewardess greeted.
"Hello!" they both replied.
"What'll you have?" she produced a quill from her pocket and prepared to write down their orders.
No time to look at the menu, Claudia thought. "Tea, please."
"Same," Percy said, "And, uh, Mr. Dumbledore is paying."
"He is such a great headmaster, don't you think? Both of my children go to his school. I really trust him, especially with all that's been going on with the rise of You-Know-Who."
"No," Claudia began.
"It's terrible!" She looked over to Percy. "I know you, but I cannot quite place it."
"Percy Weasley, ma'am, but if you'll please," he started.
"Ah, yes. You were prefect two years ago! And dating Ms. Clearwater, right? Oh, she is such a doll. Anyway, back to You-Know-Who, I just cannot believe that Dumbledore is allowing that Death Eater to continue teaching there! Don't get me wrong, Albus Dumbledore is the best there is, but when it boils down to Death Eaters and You-Know-Who, well you can't trust anyone, now can you? The Potter's found that out the hard way fifteen years ago, as you already know. And then that professor, Se-"
"Actually, I-"
"Ma'am, Claudia Wallace is just an artist from London asked to paint Dumbledore's portrait. She, uh, is just visiting."
Doreen instantly understood from the glare she had received and her cheeks stained a deep crimson. She stuffed her quill back in her pocket. "Two teas, correct?"
"Yes," Percy acknowledged and sighed in relief. It was his responsibility to keep the Muggle's exposure to the very least. The stress of that was enough to cause his wand to split. "Sorry about Doreen."
"What was she talking about? Death Eaters?"
"As you are aware, there's been hazing down by strange people dressed in all black. They are called Death Eaters. Mostly they only hurt people physically, but lately there has been deaths."
"Yes, I had heard. D-Do they work for this 'You-Know-Who'?" she asked thinking that maybe Lucius was You-Know-Who.
"They are loyal servants of his."
"Who is it?"
"Who?"
"Yes. Who is You-Know-Who?"
"Er, no one really knows," he lied and was glad to see Doreen back with the drinks.
"I am sorry, dear," she apologized.
"It's alright. Mr. Weasley explained it to me."
"Sort of," he hastily explained.
"Just, when you arrive, be wary of the Pot-"
"Doreen, might I have some lemon?" Percy interrupted.
"Oh, yes, of course." The skinny older woman vanished to the back.
"Interesting woman," Claudia commented and cautiously sipped her drink. "So, Mr. Weasley, what is it that you do?" She had noticed earlier that the young man looked barely twenty.
""I work for the government," he replied and squeezed the lemon he had just received into his tea, spitting a tea onto his tie. Percy was not comfortable without his robe and hat. The clothes Muggles wore were too restricting and did not allow for much movement. He picked the seed off and placed it on his napkin.
"Really? You look so young."
"It's just a lot of paper work," he admitted as his ears turned red.
"Pardon me for being so inquisitive, but how is it that a young man whom works for the government ends up escorting a simple artist?"
"I, uh, Mr. Dumbledore had personally requested me. He trusts that I shall get you to him with the least of troubles, I suppose."
"So he has a lot of problems with things of this nature?"
"No. He, uh, just wants to ensure all will be well."
"Of course," she placated. This Mr. Dumbledore must be a very important man."
"He is. He's the best headmaster the school ever had to offer."
"And, um, what is the name of this school?"
Percy froze. "Surely you've heard where Mr. Dumbledore is the headmaster."
"No, I haven't."
"Well, the, uh, school is famous for its science programs. It's called the, uh," he coughed, "Hogwarts."
"Excuse me?"
"Hogwarts," he repeated, this time with more confidence. "Someone had thought it funny to name a school which would excel in all the branches of science such a humorous name. Unfortunately it stuck."
"I've never heard of it."
"W-Well that is because it is more commonly referred to as The United Kingdom School of All Sciences."
Instead of being rude and embarrassing Mr. Weasley further, Claudia just nodded her head. She did not like where everything was heading. She peered out the window and saw they were out far in the country. "How far away is this school?"
"Not much longer, but then there is a carriage ride up to the school itself," he informed and silently wished he had brought some work with him. It was going to be difficult talking to the Muggle. Percy recalled his father wanting the job to almost the point of begging and had even asked Dumbledore to reconsider. But as to why he had wanted a Muggle to do his portrait was beyond him. He was surprised the Ministry allowed it. If they even know, that is, he thought wryly. It was crazy to have the woman completely unconnected to go to Hogwarts!
The train ride from then on was rather boring. Percy kept trying to get comfortable, and Claudia kept looking through her artwork. From what he could tell, the Muggle was talented and could possibly paint a perfect rendition of the headmaster. "How long have you been artist?"
"Since I can remember," she replied and procured a print of her portfolio of a landscape she had painted a few years ago. "This is a real place, was, that is, until I added my own personal feel for it. I've always loved mystical creatures like unicorns and centaurs."
"They look like the real things," he commented. "By that, I mean, they look realistic."
"Such a shame they don't exist," she shoved the print back in her bag.
"What about dragons?"
"I beg your pardon?"
"Do you believe in dragons?"
"I beg your pardon?"
"Do you believe in dragons?"
"They're even more unbelievable than unicorns!"
"You think so?" he asked, thinking of Charlie in Romania. "Maybe you've just never looked in the right places."
"I'm too old to believe in fairytales, Mr. Weasely, and after what I've seen," she paused, "It is just too impossible." Claudia gulped down her tea remembering the encounter two months ago with the snake-eyed Death Eater. She couldn't even recall his name. "Sorry."
"Its okay, Miss Wallace." He looked down at his watch. "Ah, almost there. You will like Mr. Dumbledore. He is a great man."
"So I keep hearing."
At long last, they exited the train and piled into a horse drawn carriage. When they passed the Quidditch field, Claudia pointed to it and asked what it was. Percy lied and said it was a landing platform for helicopters. Before she could ask anymore questions (mostly pertaining to the gothic architecture), the carriage came to a full stop. It was colder than London, and windier too. Claudia instantly regretted wearing a dress, especially one that only came to her trembling knees.
"This way," Percy opened the door for her and led her up the still stairs to the Great Hall. "Mr. Dumbledore is waiting for you in here."
"Y-You're leaving?" she squeaked.
"Ah, Miss Claudia Wallace, please come in." An old man with the longest hair and beard she had ever seen, stood up and motioned for her to sit down. He was dressed in velvet maroon robes with a matching coned hat.
"Good afternoon, Headmaster Albus Dumbledore." She set down the bag and shook his hand.
"You must be exhausted from the long trip. For that, I apologize. Mr. Weasely?!"
"Yes, Dumbledore?"
"Please show our guest to the wash room."
"Thank you." She found it odd that he'd quickly send her off, but she suddenly found herself having to use it. Maybe the old man was as wise as he appeared.
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"Mr. Longbottom, hurry up!"
"Honest, Professor Snape, I didn't mean to!" Neville cried in both pain from his ear being dragged and from trying to prove his innocence.
"Mr. Weasely, what are you doing here?" Snape snapped.
"I, uh, am just helping Dumbledore with something."
"Outside the girl's lavatory?" he shook his head in disgust. "Where is Dumbledore?"
"In the Great Hall, but he is busy, Professor-" Too late. Snape was pulling a protesting Neville Longbottom to the Great Hall.
"Please, Professor!"
"Shut up!" He had been angrier than usual the past two months, and had negative patience for anybody. Snape had even exploded at a few students from his own house. He marched right through the double doors into the Great Hall.
"Something wrong, Severus?" Albus asked with a smile.
"Mr. Longbottom here," he began with clenched teeth, "Has managed to explode half my classroom. Then he proceeded to fix it by using a dancing charm."
"I see." He spotted a shadow by the door.
"I-I didn't mean to. Honest!"
"I want him out of my class!" Snape exclaimed as he finally released Neville's ear.
"You cannot kick him out, Severus. Next year he won't have to be in it if he does not pass his O.W.L.'s. It is only a few more months." Albus pushed his spectacles up on his nose. "You may come in now, Ms. Wallace."
Claudia poked her head from behind the door. Had she heard correctly? Of course she had. How many were named Severus? She absent mindedly put her arm around her womb and walked past the angry professor. So that is what the man was really like!
"I-I didn't mean to blow up the classroom, ma'am. Honest!" Neville repeated and looked at the woman with fear in his eyes.
"I am not here for that, dear." She touched his shoulder and tried not to pay too much attention to his odd attire. Come to think of it, everyone was dressed in robes! "I am here to paint your headmaster's portrait."
"I've always wondered: how do you make them move?"
She decided right then that maybe the boy was special. How else could he blow up a classroom using (hopefully) controlled chemicals?
"It's too tiring to always move about in pictures. I had asked Ms. Wallace to paint a still picture."
Did Dumbledore actually plan on letting the Muggle into their world? Snape wondered. "Come on, Mr. Longbottom."
"Nice meeting you," Neville said before being dragged away. "Am I getting detention, Professor Snape?"
"For a week, Mr. Longbottom, so hurry up!"
"I apologize, Ms. Wallace. Mr. Longbottom surely is an exceptional young man."
"So he seems," Claudia replied still blushing from her close encounter with Snape.
Dumbledore smiled up at the young woman. "Please, sit." He asked to look at her prints and commented approvingly of them. "You are quite talented, Ms. Wallace."
"Thank you."
"I would like you to do my portrait. Let us discuss payment in my office."
"Y-Yes." She followed him out the Great Hall to a long dark corridor. Deja veux swept over her. Her breath caught in her throat. Where was he taking her?
"Ms. Wallace?"
"I cannot do this! Excuse me!" Claudia sprinted down the hall and tried to find her way back out the school. They are all Death Eaters, she realized. He was going to kill me! Nausea consumed her.
She was lost. All the hallways looked the same. "How do I get out of this maze?" she wondered and nearly jumped her skin when a cat rubbed against her legs.
"A student out of class, my sweet?" Mr. Filch crept around the corner but only to come face to face with a Muggle.
"Can you help me? I've been lost for the past thirty minutes!" she exploded.
"Where are you headed?"
"Out!"
"I have to get something first." Filch stopped by his office searching for something which somehow turned out to be in his pockets. "Ah, here I go—detention slips. Personally, the hanging had more of an effect than detention, don't you think?" He grinned at her revealing a very poor set of teeth.
"O-On second thought, may I just use your phone?"
"Phone?"
"Yes. To ring up a cab."
"Er, no phones here. Sorry."
"What? Please, just show me out," Claudia demanded feeling even more frightened than before. Was this school really an asylum?
"Hold on, hold on." Argus checked his watch. "Ah, thought so."
"What is it?"
"Almost time for supper."
"Perhaps Ms. Wallace will honor us with her presence?" Dumbledore suggested.
"I'm sorry. I cannot stay here. This is just too much!" She felt weak from all her running around and not having lunch. "I really would like to leave, if that is alright."
"It gets dark here very early, and I am afraid that last stagecoach has left for the night," Albus informed. "Please, at least join us for our feast."
Professor McGonagall had been witnessing the ordeal and patted the guest on the arm. "It is alright, dear."
"No, it's not! I really am tired and this school, or whatever it is, and and-" she stammered.
"Calm down, Ms. Wallace," Dumbledore urged. "I assure you that we mean no harm. We have no intentions of hurting you." His words did ease her and even cleared up her mind a little as well.
"Albus, this is going too far! She's an innocent Muggle!" Minerva argued.
"Trust me, this is all for her own good."
Her feet steered themselves directly to a seat at the staff table in the Great Hall. She was so relaxed that the food magically appearing before her was not strange and even seeing all the oddly dressed students did not faze her at all. Everything felt normal, only it wasn't. Something about the situation was not right, but she did not mind.
Everyone was laughing, talking, and eating. All of it was hypnotizing. Was she even really there eating roast chicken and mashed potatoes?
"There she is!" Neville pointed to Harry, Ron, and Hermione. "That's the Muggle I saw earlier today."
"I doubt she's just any Muggle," Hermione commented. "They are not allowed here."
"She's going to paint Dumbledore's portrait—and it won't move!"
"I don't get it," Harry began. "Why a Muggle?"
"Snape didn't like it, either. He game me double detention with Filch for the rest of the year, even though he said it was only for a week." Neville sighed and picked at his food. "He really scares me, you know."
"He did seem angrier when he returned, if that's possible," input Ron. "Snape even tried to give me detention because he saw Percy waiting by the girl's lavatory, but McGonagall stepped in. Something's been bugging him."
The room was getting warmer. It kept spinning 'round and 'round. Had she been poisoned? Claudia stood up; her wooden chair scraped loudly on the stone floor. "Excuse me, I am feeling faint."
"Severus, since you are done, would you care to show our guest to her room for the night?" Albus's old eyes twinkled behind his half moon spectacles. "Room nineteen."
Snape growled under his breath. He had tried to finish early so he could leave, and instead he had to escort Ms. Wallace to her room. "What did you do?" he hissed.
"Nothing, Severus. She is just exhausted from her day. Maybe my soothing voice relaxed her a little too much." In other words, the headmaster had secretly charmed her to be more at ease. What was he playing at?
"Come, Ms. Wallace," he ordered and led her out of the dining hall, but not without catching the eye of every student. That alone angered him even more. He was so caught up in his brisk walk that he did not notice Nearly Headless Nick.
"Good evening," the ghost greeted and let his head hang from the stretched skin of his neck. Sir Nick winced when Claudia yelped and backed into a wall. "People these days . ."
"What is it?" Snape barked startling the woman. Apparently the charm had worn off and she hastily turned around bumping chests with the potions professor. He was unfazed.
"Sorry. I-It," Claudia immediately pulled herself from him and blushed, "I thought I saw a ghost."
"You probably did." His pace quickened as he became more annoyed. The woman was now a nuisance more so than ever. No matter what, he could not shake himself from her. Still, a piece of himself pitied her. She hadn't asked for all that had happened to her, but she should be more careful!
"Could you slow down? My feet hurt." Claudia stopped to lean against a wall, not aware that he ignored her request. It hurt to see him again, but she'd be damned if he saw it! He always had to be so cold, except for the time that they—No! She would not think about it. That was when he was a different man. No, she thought, he has always been this way. I can see it now. The anger in his eyes is old. He holds it all in, trying to be grown up. We're a lot alike . .
What in the Dark Lord's name was taking her so damn long? "Are you coming?" he demanded. "Your room is right here." He folded his arms neatly over his chest and waited impatiently for her to hurry up.
It was strange how something someone else's fault made that person quite so cold and full of hatred. Claudia stood in the doorway. "You're a Death Eater, aren't you?"
His face quickly turned sour. What did she know of Death Eaters?
"And you work for You-Know-Who," she finished. "But what did my death have to do with anything?"
She knew more than he thought, but Albus didn't tell her. He would've said Voldemort's name. Snape remained silent. He was too tired to deal with her at the moment.
"That blond haired man, is that You-Know-Who?"
"No," came a new voice.
"Headmaster," Snape said. They were all ushered into the room.
"Severus was a Death Eater," he clicked the door shut, "Was."
"Albus-"
"I had him do this—posing as one, as a favor to me. And it was on one of these favors he had the unfortunate meeting of you, though personally I think meeting someone as lovely as you, Ms. Wallace, would make my day progress a little more smoothly."
"Why would he be doing this? What are the Death Eaters?" she inquired.
"They are people who have abused their knowledge to serve the one you know as You-Know-Who."
"Terrorists."
"More or less," he agreed. "Please keep all this to yourself, Ms. Wallace, for my staff is even unaware of this recent development. Good night, Ms. Wallace." With that, he closed the door behind him. Another click followed.
He's locked us in! That man is daft! Claudia tugged effortlessly on the handle.
"What are you doing?" Snape asked.
"We're locked in!"
"What?" He stood behind her and snaked his arms around either side of her. One hand tweeked with the lock while the other tried at the handle. He breathed in deeply, inhaling the sweet perfume she wore. "You smell nice." The words slipped from his mouth before he realized what was being said.
"Don't touch me!" she shrieked and escaped from his grasp. She relaxed into the wall and tried to fight back the tears that threatened her. "Don't touch me . ."
"Ms. Wallace," he started unaware of something slipping from his robes.
"I don't want to hear it! You're not-" she choked on her words.
"You need to know the truth," Severus whispered. "That's why you're here." It all made sense to him. She couldn't live in fear forever. "You deserve to know."
"No." She swallowed hard. "You've had to have killed as a Death Eater, I know it. Would you have killed if it hadn't been me?"
He had never thought about it that way. "I do not know," he admitted, "But I was never going to let you die."
"You expect me to believe that?!" she exploded. Claudia was not ready for him to approach her as quickly as he did. "You waited until the last second!"
He had waited too long. Why? "You need to know why-" A hand flew towards his face. He captured it and grabbed her other wrist holding them high above her head.
"Let me go!"
"Not until you let me tell you." He was too exhausted, too worn out, too thin.
"I don't want to know the truth if it is so terrible I have to be tricked into coming here and locked in a room with you!"
"Terrible?" he repeated. Yes, the truth was terrible. "It is important."
"Let me go!" she shouted, looking at the floor where her tears had fallen.
"Will you all me to speak?" Severus could not keep arguing anymore.
"Will you release me?" she countered, finally meeting his gaze. He did. Claudia wiped the stray strands of hair from her damp face. "I'm not going to crawl back to you just because you tell me the truth. I don't want to hear it; I don't care to know it. Nothing you say or do can correct your mistake. You are no better than Michael."
It was his turn to become emotional. "It was not my fault!" Snape held his head heavy in his hands. "Please . ."
"Since when did you start to care what I thought of you? I know it never crossed your mind the few times I did see you, a month in between each encounter! You made no effort to show any interest. Then you have a choice: kill me or save me, either way causing pain."
"You told me not to kill you," he bitterly reminded, falling tiredly into a chair. "I did what you wanted."
"What I wanted?!" she echoed. "So it made no difference to you, did it?"
"Listen, I have told you countless times, I was never going to let you die! You let Malofy brainwash you with his words!"
"I find it hard to believe that you'd agree to go to meet that other man if you knew what it had to entail, being a former Death Eater and all!"
"Does it bother you so much that you must carry on like one of my students?"
"I should have known." Claudia wiped the tears from her eyes. "I don't want you in my child's life being the type of man and so-called professor you are."
"You cannot control that," he argued his words much softer than before. Snape knew that regardless he'd end up teaching his future child.
"I can take you to court!"
"For what? Who'd believe you? You don't eve n know the whole story! But you don't care to know because you think you're too goddamn good to hear it—you and your stubborn nobility and pride!"
"I beg your pardon?!"
Snape arched an eyebrow at her in mock interest. "Has no one ever spoken to you that way before?"
"I am going to get out of this room if it is the last thing I do!"
"Go ahead and try. Dumbledore is not a man to take for a fool. It will be impossible to escape before morning."
Claudia hated how he could remain so calm about the situation. "What makes you so sure?"
"I have known him for twenty three years—since I started this school." He was glad when she finally shut up so he could rest his eyes. It wasn't before too long when he heard an odd sound coming from the door. "Just what are you doing?" he asked without even cracking an eye open.
"Escaping," she curtly replied shoving something through the hole in the lock.
"How?"
"Wouldn't you like to know? Damn, it's going to break." She shoved the stick harder into the key hole.
Snape finally opened his eyes and tried to make out what she was holding. His hands immediately searched his pockets. It was missing! "Stop!" he yelled, but it was too late.
His precious fist and only wand splintered into several pieces, the tip still lodged in the door.
"You've just ruined any chance we might've had away!" Severus ran over to his broken wand and stared at it in horror.
"By breaking a stick?" A smile tugged at her lips. Was he getting sentimental over apiece of polished wood? "You said earlier that it was impossible to get out. All I did was try to pick the lock with that stick."
"Stick?" he repeated, his blood boiling. "STICK?!"
"Yes."
"This is no ordinary stick!" he burst, so angry that he found it hard to breathe.
"It's not a stick anymore."
He ignored her. "I-I can't believe you broke it!" Snape tried desperately to piece his wand back together, but it was useless. He'd have to purchase another one. "Do you know what this is?"
"A stick?" she asked, not quite seeing what he was doing. "I did not mean to break it, only to get away from you."
"And I had no intention of ever killing you; I was just portraying a Death Eater to save lives."
"You can't compare the two!" she disputed. "And what do you mean by 'saving lives'?"
"What do you care? You live in your own sheltered world," he spat, completely distraught over the permanent loss of the only thing he could count on to never fail him.
"No, I don't!" she replied hotly.
"So you want to know the truth?" Snape asked, pleased to see that his reverse psychology was working.
"I want you to explain to me what you meant by saving lives," she corrected.
"I can't tell you that without telling you the truth."
"Do I want to know it?"
"Probably not," he admitted.
Claudia slumped to her knees and bit back her tears. "I don't want to know, but," she sighed, "I have no choice, do I?"
"You do have a choice. If you do not like what you've been told, I can make you forget everything that has happened and you can go back to your sheltered life. But, if you do decide to accept the truth and keep it to yourself, you can be as you are now."
"How can you help me forget?"
"You will see."
"And, if I do decide I don't like it, what about our child?"
He hadn't thought of that, he did not want to. "I don't know." Snape sat on the floor next to her. "Do you want me heal away your memories?"
Was that what she wanted? Needed? A tear escaped and trailed down her cheek. "I just want to go home and wake up on my bed. I want all of this to be a dream."
Pain stained his face. He could not perform a very effective obliviate without his wand. He was hoping she would not choose to forget, especially since when he'd have to see her again in just less than twelve years as the professor of his own child. No one would even know. A sigh escaped his lips. He was going to hate doing this.
Yes, sadly, that is the end of this story. There, obviously, is an opening for an epilogue. I have started writing it, but I do not know if I would like to continue with it. This entire story had been written over a period of about two consecutive months, I just had lost the notebook and that's why it had taken me quite so long to update it. As for the epilogue, I have only started it, it is not completed nor anywhere near completion. I hope that you have enjoyed this story! Thank you so much for reading it!
~ann no aku