Chapter 33
Dumbledore entered Severus's antechamber to have Sirius sail past him just miss colliding with Remus and Harry. Their cries of panic provided a background for his entry into the bedchamber itself. And come face to face with an irate, fang bearing vampire.
"You're little plan of sharing everyone's secrets didn't work out quite as you planned, did it, Dumbledore? How did you plan on keeping everyone alive after this?" Irvan attacked verbally.
Granted Dumbledore had been careless in relating the terrible crimes committed against Sirius, he knew he was in the right to do so.
"Just how did you plan on keeping the victim from taking 'justice' into his own hands? Your judgment in timing has never been poorer. Not only do you not have a way to console them, you have no way to undo what you seek to undo. A mighty poor choice in words, Dumbledore, saying you will help when you have nothing to offer."
The point had been to get everything out in the open. They were only prolonging the inevitable and a potential disaster. The more Sirius knew about his condition the easier it would be to watch and note odd changes. And with the three knowing, they would be able to report if Sirius suddenly seem under the control of Voldemort.
"You knew they needed to be told," Dumbledore responded in an undecipherable tone.
"Of course they needed to be told," Irvan mimicked condescendingly. "But I thought you would at least tell them that before the holidays. Before you left them to their own devices while you tramped around waiting for the Ministry to destroy your school wards. But when that happened, I expected you to wait until all persons involved were fully able to defend themselves. Though it leaves the question, when were you going to tell them why they had to come here as opposed to the comforts of Grimmauld Place?"
"Once I have gained the information--"
"Then why have you not waited in this case?" Irvan interrupted.
"I haven't seen you correct these lapses."
"I for one was ordered not to." Irvan's voice was as cold as ice and just about as hard. To Dumbledore it seemed he needed to chip away the other man's ire.
"Irvan, do us all a favor and shut up," Severus saved him the trouble. The young Professor's voice was weary and troublesome. "You obviously came for that Gryffindor in the other room, Headmaster," the covert Death Eater continued weakly. His physical condition had improved but his mental faculties were out racing his body's healing attempts.
"I am quite please to see you much improved, Severus." Albus stated. He wondered if he should question his Potions Professor on the activities that lead to his condition or hold off and wait for a quieter moment. He knew Sirius, Remus, and Harry were waiting in the antechamber and all likelihood listening. And he could see the vampire fuming from some unknown stimuli.
"Well, Irvan?" Severus prompted still watching the Headmaster. "You are well informed. Perhaps you would grant the Headmaster with the explanation you just finished giving me."
Dumbledore inwardly confessed confusion. He caught Irvan's frantic glance at the book resting innocently on the coffee table. Was the vampire at odds with Severus. Dumbledore was going to have to understand this exchange, though that might become clear once the history behind the book was told.
"Lucius referred to it as The Apocalyptic Text," was Severus harsh response. Addressing Dumbledore but not turning his gaze from the awkward vampire, he continued, "I was summoned to the Dark Lord who then sent us under the command of Malfoy to retrieve a book. We were given a portkey and told to leave. There were five of us. Malfoy, Crabbe, Goyle, Nott, and myself. Mostly muscle incase things got ugly. Lucius and I did the actual demanding while the others remained alert for Aurors. The Dark Lord seemed to think they would be alerted sooner than expected. I am still unsure as to why.
"In the house we met an old couple, they appeared to be in their eighties." Here Irvan shifted. The glares the two were sharing would have been enough to make Dumbledore back down. Something had happened. Something that affected Irvan personally. "Lucius went after the man immediately and violently. The couple knew instinctively what we were after. The woman did nothing until I approached her. She lashed out, but I did not think her curse did anything as I felt nothing." Irvan growled and looked disgusted. "Then Nott raised the alarm that the Aurors had arrived. Lucius killed the old man and ordered me to keep at the old woman until he gave the signal.
"Once he left the woman said something odd. She said, 'So he is with you.' I can only assume that she meant you, Irvan. However at the time I was only thinking about getting the book out of there before the Ministry or the Dark Lord stumbled upon it. She summoned it to her and I gave her a potion that would imitate death." Severus's eyes and voice became harder than stone. "She drank it voluntarily." That statement had little meaning to him. But Irvan lost his composure for a second. There was a lost look in his eyes.
"I only had time to banish the book and that key to that Chest before Lucius was calling to leave. The Aurors had put up an Anti-Apparation barrier. As we did not have a portkey to return, we had to fight our way through the Aurors. I would have portkeyed here immediately if I had not had to be seen leaving by Lucius at least. I'm not sure how we got passed the Aurors, but Nott went down casting the Dark Mark above the house. On returning to the Dark Lord, we were already in poor shape. I would venture to say the Dark Lord knew attacking that house would be difficult and with little chance of success."
"You returned empty handed and Voldemort did nothing?"
"If the Dark Lord had a punishment planned, it would have gone to Lucius. All I can remember is the Dark Lord mentioning that his source had been correct and that the book would be waiting for the next one to arrive to retrieve it."
"What did Voldemort mean by that?"
Severus now looked at the Headmaster, rising from his bed. "That is a question to address to that creature standing before you," he sneered. Dumbledore had never seen such an uncertain vampire. Irvan had actually retreated a step on hearing Voldemort's comments.
"Irvan?" Better to answer all these questions before Severus discovered who all he was sharing his home with.
"They were my grandparents. That is my grandparents' book. And no one outside the vampire colonies should know about it. And even there, there are very few who know its secrets."
"Get to the point, Irvan," Severus hissed. "You are the only one who can find out why the Dark Lord wants that book."
"The only reason he could want it is for the spells of mass destruction. Anything to be rid of us or force us to follow him. Don't think I have forgotten what happened all those years ago." Irvan's anxiety had given way to his earlier rage. A quiet rage and dangerous.
"And what of the other spells? Vampires alone will not suffer from this book."
"Most of those other spells can be found through other means."
"Then read it and find out what is most likely for the Dark Lord to be looking for."
"I will not read that book." As cold and unbendable as steel. "Where that book is concerned you hold no control. I shall not read it just so you can boast at having knowledge you would never seek elsewhere. I will keep that book secret."
"You will keep it secret?" Severus said advancing. Dumbledore had half a mind to halt this conversation, but he still did not understand why that book was so important. "And just how are you going to keep it as secret that you have the book?" Severus's rage escalated at the thought of Irvan revealing himself. Although the vampire had not exactly been hiding himself lately, but no Death Eater knew his name and it was completely unlikely that vampires would care about the dealings of a school. "That book is now a weapon. The Dark Lord wants it and I want to know why!"
"I will not read my grandparents' book for it is not a weapon! It was never meant to be a weapon!"
"You said it was your grandparents' book," Severus yelled despite his injuries. "Well, now it's yours!" He picked up the circular wooden plaque from the coffee table where Irvan had gingerly left it. "Take your bloody book and see how you fare in keeping it from the Dark Lord." Severus threw the disk with tremendous force but without aim. Irvan taken by surprise watched as the disk flew past his head towards the fireplace. He raced to catch it before it hit the flames. He grabbed it in midair but lost his balance, sending him to all fours, the disk securely under his left palm.
There was a moment when nothing happened. And then, Irvan reeled back, gasping in pain. He cradled his left hand close to his chest, wide eyed staring blankly at the floor. Turning his hand to see, he revealed a nice, crisp brand, matching exactly to the disk laying before him. He stood, looked at Severus accusingly, and vanished.
"Severus, what is that book?" Dumbledore's question echoed in the stillness of the room.
"The Dark Lord referred to it as the storage of weapons. Irvan likened it to more of a history of vampires and all that could harm them. We won't know what it is until we can read it. And I fear it can only be done by a vampire, likely him."
"Go back to bed, Severus. We can deal with this when you are in better health." Dumbledore helped the now exhausted wizard back to the warmth of the covers.
Severus balked. "You told them," he accused.
"Yes, I told them. They need to know what can happen. And you need to sleep." The Headmaster quietly wove an enchantment to make the professor sleep without comment. Turning to the other three still standing at the door, he said, "Thank you for not interrupting. Sirius, I must ask you not to do anything rash or act upon what you have learned. I will answer all questions that I can. But first, let us let him sleep in peace."
Dumbledore lead his small group back to the cheerfully decorated room of Christmas, where all the Weasleys were congregated. "Ah, Mrs. Weasley, Severus has woken briefly and might have overexerted himself. Perhaps you could see that he has not strained himself?"
"Of course, Professor." Mrs. Weasley excused herself with a cross between a worried frown and an apology. Her family sported the same troublesome expression. Whether it was for the sudden departure of their matron or some fear of the unknown, Dumbledore could not distinguish. Nor did he spend the time to distinguish. He needed to contact Alastor and work out the problems at Grimmauld Place. And he needed to find Irvan, if that was at all possible, and understand once and for all why that book was important.
Without a word of warning, the Headmaster left the morning room and its festive dressings and made his way to the parlor and hope Phineas had the presence of mind to answer.
..........................
Irvan? There he went again. The call had been off and on for hours on end. Ever since he had fled from Severus, that boy had been demanding attention. He had not survived for two millennia just to have a mere fifteen year old boy out do him for patience. There was nothing he had to say to that boy. Further more that boy had nothing to do with the situation. Except for being in the wrong place at the wrong time.
This dispute was only between Severus and himself. Not that Irvan was in much of a position to argue beyond what be could claim as his own. And that book was his own, courtesy of the death of his grandmother. Damn his grandmother. Did she not understand what she had just done? Of course not. If she had, then this would not have happened. Though that left the question of why did she not undo the curse she laid upon Severus? Another mystery her soul would never unleash. Damn his grandmother.
It had been raining for the entirety of the afternoon and only appeared to be increasing in strength as the day wore into evening. Irvan had not even taken into account the passage of time except in the measure of the pounding rain. Here he had been sitting ever since that disgraceful incident concerning the book. Here he had been sitting, holding his scarred hand close to his chest, letting the cold wet drops fall on it, cooling it. Here he had been sitting, listening to that boy try and get his attention. Here he had been sitting trying to ignore that boy.
"Master Irvan shouldn't be up here," the high pitched whisper broke his thoughts.
"Good evening, Totti." He could feel the sun setting. Much like the werewolf could feel the moon rising. "And where should I be?" he asked blandly, not able to pull any emotion from the elements. The parapets of the Castle Main were as good a place as any to seek refuge. None of the humans wizards were able to come up here. None of them knew how to get up here, much less suspect him of being here.
"Master Irvan should be with Master Severus." A clear statement, as clear as day.
"Severus is sleeping."
"Master Irvan should be with Master Severus."
"I am afraid you do not understand the current situation. Severus is healing just fine. However, that Chest brought the arrival of a book he should not have in his possession. And currently has caused a rift to form in our tenuous and at time tedious relationship."
"Master Irvan is sulking." Damned elf.
"All the time I have spent sulking can be summed up into one decade."
"Then why is Master Irvan hiding from everyone?"
"Because they want answers I do not have. And until I can find those answers, I will avoid them."
"Master Irvan should go to Severus."
Irvan frowned. Totti was persistent and Irvan did not understand why. "He would not appreciate any of it. To him I am only as good as I am useful. And given the circumstances, I agree with him. He is everything like his forefathers and life has turned friendships sour."
"Why do you ally yourself with a falling house?" The question was not as innocent as it appeared. The house was not falling due to a lack of family members. While the Snape name was rare enough, there were still a few of direct lineage. Ciara Aloysius would not fall into another family's hand. But even Totti knew the family had fallen from political grace. That it had fallen from financial grace, as well.
"I do not know," was his poor excuse for an answer. He felt drawn to this family. He always had. He had even meet Salazar Slytherin through the extension of this family. This family and Ciara Aloysius were perhaps one of the few things that had remained constant in his life. And it was that constancy that he craved, even as he spent time delving into each new adventure of the times.
"Master Irvan is tied to this family."
"Don't be ridiculous, Totti. I have never been indebted to any of them until Severus," he scoffed. "Such fanciful things are for the stories."
"Then Master Irvan must understand for himself," Totti replied mysteriously. "But Master Irvan should not be up here getting soaked. You should be with Master Severus."
He looked down at the petite House-elf standing only a ledge below him, looking too frail to survive the incoming storm. "Get back inside, Totti. I'll come in later. I promise." That seemed to satisfy the elf as she popped back into the kitchens, or so he supposed. He would enter the house soon enough. Likely as soon as the rain had cooled his temper and frustration. But he would return, after all he had promised Totti.
.............................
This was getting frustrating. It was bedtime, only a day to go until Christmas, and all the secrets of the past semester were keeping him awake, stealing the joy of the season from him. The Weasleys all had rooms on a different wing of the house, close to Harry and his father's schoolboy friends. Harry still remembered the shock on the twins' faces when they learned that the House-elves had put their stuff in separate rooms. They had put up such a fuss that Remus finally called Totti and ask that the twins be given a room with two beds.
Now he was lying awake in bed pondering over the day's events. Irvan? he asked mentally for what had to be the millionth time.
What? The reply was so sudden, Harry physically jumped in surprise. You've been at this all day. Shouldn't you be asleep by now?
Then why haven't you answered me? Harry demanded sullenly. So he had not quite recovered from his anger. And he was still angry at Irvan for keeping his visions from him. He had the right to know!
I was busy! came the annoyed snap. And why was Irvan always annoyed? Perhaps I had not made myself clear on that other point. What occurred was not intentional. It turned out to be the easiest and most efficient method, and don't go complaining to me about it. I would much rather not have to deal with it. Now if you don't have anything logical to complain about, I would appreciate being left alone.
What was that whole thing with the book about?
None of your business.
But... What is it?
That book is none of your business. Just as it is none of Dumbledore's. Nor should it have anything to do with Severus, but he has managed to find away to involve himself. And anything relating to that book is not for you to discuss.
You can't tell me what to do!
Having a small power crisis are you? If I tell you nothing then you have nothing to tell. And I really don't have any say in what Dumbledore tells you.
Yet you listen to Professor Dumbledore.
Oh, no. That I do not. While indirectly it can be said that I take his directions, it most certainly is not so. The direction for interference in your case comes from Severus, which in turn comes from Dumbledore. And if it weren't for Severus, I simply would not be bothered. Now, good night.
Irvan.
Do not start that again. I would like to spend the rest of this even in silent contemplation. You will have plenty of time to complain later. Good night.
What was Irvan's problem? Harry bet it centered on that encounter in Snape's rooms after Sirius had been thrown out. Just what was it? And did it have anything to do with what caused Sirius's problem. So much information was being kept from him. He could help if only they told him these things. He could have helped Sirius. In his visions, he saw Sirius being tortured by Voldemort, but Irvan had blocked the images from him without his knowledge. Irvan was responsible for that ignorance. And it was his ignorance that cost Sirius.
And they didn't even know what would happen. Snape might. Snape seemed to know more than his share. And it had been Snape to force that potion down Sirius's throat. The one to make that poison. But it was Dumbledore who consented to it all. Dumbledore could have stopped everything if Harry had been allow to see his own dreams. He was certain that if he could have told Dumbledore that first night it happened then Sirius would have been fine and not have this threat of a mind controlling potion. It was all their fault.
Harry had listened to that entire exchange between Dumbledore, Irvan, and Snape. And it sounded as though that book, the Apocalyptic Text, had a lot of dangerous spells in it. And Irvan had even said they were spells to combat vampires. Well, what if there were spells to combat mind control. And a counter to mind control would likely break Sirius of whatever Snape did to him. Harry would just look through that book and find out. If Harry couldn't read it, then he would make certain Irvan did. He was determined to find a way to help his godfather, because he was certain that Snape was doing everything possible to not undo that potion.
If he wasn't able to assist his godfather when it was necessary, then he would do everything he could to assist now. Whether Dumbledore wanted him to or not. Somehow with the thoughts coursing through his mind, Harry's body got through to him, and exhaustion took him down and out.
...............
Irvan was once again standing at the foot of Severus's bed. After everything that had happened, he doubted Severus would want the attention. Totti, the ever faithful house-elf, had taken her perch on the left bedpost. Severus was thankfully asleep. Neither one of them wanted to attempt to explain their presence.
An odd weight settled on his shoulder. "Go away, Fawks," he told the firebird absently. "Dumbledore will be wondering what you are doing here."
"Quite right." Irvan didn't even move to accept the Headmaster's presence. "I would assume that Fawks's familiarity with your shoulder means the two of you have had previous contact?"
"Fawks and I have always been peculiar among our species. Unless I am mistaken we met during the first year of Hogwarts's commencement." Irvan reached his left hand up to stroke the phoenix's plumage. Fawks responded by dipping his head lower for easier reach, brushing against the vampire's neck in the process. One thing Irvan never understood was why phoenixes were on relatively good terms with vampires.
"I believe Fawks is worried about you, Irvan," Dumbledore said after awhile. "He is not normally so taken with someone. And I must say I am curious as to why you remain here. It is obvious you have feelings for Severus."
"Feelings, Headmaster, are subject to interpretation, and I am quite aware that my feelings are far from clear," he answered condescendingly. "My feelings have yet to be determined as benign, sinister, or even genuine."
"Master Irvan is very protective of Master Severus," Totti piped up. "Master Irvan is very protective of all members of the Snape family."
"I am afraid, Totti, that my former relations with the Snape family members bears no relation to my feelings towards Severus."
"How do you mean, Irvan?" Dumbledore watched as the vampire moved to the balcony windows. Fawks still provided a comforting presence for the vampire, but Irvan seemed distracted and gave only a small amount of attention to the bird. To the Headmaster, it seemed Fawks was quite accustom to the treatment.
"You have seen many things in your time, Headmaster, but your experiences would not be appropriate for the conflicts I seem to be having."
"I'm sure as one old man to another, I will have had some similar experience. Or at least know of someone. But if all else I would hope I could be of assistance."
Irvan finally turned around, both he and the phoenix had a small smile. "You are the first to refer to me as an old man in complete sincerity since Salazar." The vampire spared a glance for Severus. "I don't understand if it is instinct or genuine. You will have to understand our emotional matters of this nature are not developed at such a personal level. And after the affair of this afternoon, I must admit that I know longer know why I even bother."
"I am afraid I do not understand you."
"I was thrown from my entire world of existence out of an obligation to be sure Severus would not come to harm as a result of my actions and mere existence. I am now about to be thrown back into that world after twenty years of seeming to be dead. That is the simple matter, Albus. The complex issue derives from the fact that I don't feel as though I am ready to deal with the rest of my kind when I am in such a situation that I am in. Nor do I want the responsibility of keeping that book safe. Nor is it safe for me to reveal myself for it will still put Severus at risk. More to the point, it is likely a vampire who gave the knowledge of the book to Voldemort and it will be that same vampire who would betray me to him, as well. So you see, Albus, my discovery is inevitable. Yet I cannot return on my own terms as it will expose Severus. That is only one facet of my current problems."
The vampire remained standing at the entryway to the balcony, contemplating the rest of his dilemmas. "The true dilemma lies with Severus. He is as strong-willed and stubborn as his fathers and he will do what needs to be done to see to fruition his goals. It was only a matter of time before his demands crossed paths with my own. I worry about what will occur when it is discovered that he has betrayed the Dark Lord Voldemort. Severus will remain stubborn, but even he dislikes betrayal. His will is about all he has left." The Creature of the Night turned once more to the thunderous evening, running an affectionate stroke along the phoenix's plumage.
"But you have other problems to deal with. Sirius Black, to name one. Harry Potter, to name another. And most urgently Number Twelve Grimmauld Place. Have you isolated the danger yet, Albus?"
Dumbledore freely confessed that he could not follow the vampire's logic. It was too sporadic for him even to try. Nor did he put much effort in understanding the enigma Irvan was presenting. True, the vampire already knew about the catastrophes waiting to happen in the worlds of Sirius and Harry, but Dumbledore could not figure out how it knew about Grimmauld Place. Unless Severus told it. It was too likely for Severus to have mentioned something. Far too likely.
"Clues have been found, but Alastor needs the second potion soon or the benefits of the first will die and the whole process will have to be begun again," the Headmaster admitted. They were no closer to identifying the leak then they had been months ago. Nothing new had come forward. No new information had been spread. That they knew at least. And with the incapacitated Potions Master, Dumbledore feared that his Order would not discover what information was compromised until it was too late. "Perhaps you would consent to assist?" he suggested.
He hoped the vampire would at least consider the request. He could do nothing to change the vampire's mind, but Irvan was rational enough to know what the consequences would be for them. The silence of the room suddenly seemed overbearing. Nothing had changed, but the atmosphere grew heavy with the waiting for the reply.
"It can keep until morning," was Irvan's reply. And the creature took his position at the foot of Severus's bed once more. It was a strange sight. One Dumbledore would not soon forget. Lain stretched out under dark shimmering bedcovers was his Potions Professor and Death Eater spy. Ever watchful guardians stood silent at their post. One a small loyal representative of the family, the other an older protective companion of the clan. And to provide companionship for the graveyard shift was a bright spot of sunlit loyalty and courage. The scene was peaceful, yet the atmosphere creased with heart-sinking worry and concern.
Dumbledore left them for the evening. Severus needed his rest and the Headmaster would not be able to find rest while fighting the urge to hold a midnight vigil. Therefore he retired to his own guest chamber and hoped sleep would come swiftly for it would not be pleasant to lie awake with unfounded worry. He left not knowing the vampire was already calculating the numerous difficulties that lay in wait. Irvan knew their real problems were only beginning and he was ridiculously postponing them by refusing his consent to read his grandparents' book. Perhaps the boy was on to something and a possibility lay hidden between its pages. But it would all wait until morning.