Author's Notes: We get a taste of the relationship between Mira and
Tricia, and our poor Potions master continues his self-destructive slide
towards burnout.
Disclaimer: Nothing recognized from the books is mine.
Chapter 5: Preparations for the Festival.
Snape awoke the next morning with his hair drenched in sweat, his clothes rumpled, and his bedcovers wadded up from tossing and turning. He came to consciousness, realized where he was and remembered the events in the tavern the night before. He remembered Mirabelle and her companion, the three young Death Eaters, and a cold chill ran up his back as he had a vivid mental image of the two women lying bloody and mutilated on the ground in the alleyway. Bile rising in his throat, he got up and ran into the bathroom and retched repeatedly until the wave of nausea passed. Hands shaking, he staggered to a chest in the corner of the bathroom, removed a small vial of potion, leaned against the wall for support, and drank it down in one swallow. He staggered back to the edge of his bed, and sat with his head bowed until his hands stopped shaking and his breathing returned to normal. He got back up, rinsed his mouth out, splashed cold water onto his face, ran a comb through his sweaty tangled hair, and went into his bedchamber to change clothes.
He left his chambers and went up to the faculty dining room, where Dumbledore was breakfasting with Professor Sprout, Hagrid, and Mr. Filch. He sat at an empty place setting, and turned the teacup right side up on the saucer. It instantly filled with hot steaming tea. He crossed the knife and fork over the plate and pushed them away.
Dumbledore raised an eyebrow. "What? No breakfast, Severus? Not even a piece of toast?"
Snape gave the headmaster a sharp look. "Tea will suffice, I'm not feeling well this morning, possibly a touch of the flu or something, I'm sure it will pass".
"Well, then you should head over to the hospital wing and have Poppy get out an anti-nausea serum for you".
"Thanks headmaster, but I shan't bother her. If necessary, I can manage a simple anti-nausea serum in my lab".
"Very well Severus, I trust that you have some pressing work to attend to this morning. But please come by my office at noontime, we have much to discuss".
"Yes headmaster, I shall see you then" replied the potions master curtly. And with that, he drained his cup of tea, turned the cup upside down on the saucer and rose silently from the table and headed back to his lab.
Snape spent the morning preparing the ingredients for a batch of potent healing salve for Madame Pomfrey and Mademoiselle Lowrey in the school infirmary. If violence again came to the school, the nurse and her new assistant would need to have a significant store of healing potions at their disposal. Snape lit a fire under a cauldron, dumped in the ingredients for the salve, and charmed a small wooden paddle to keep the mixture stirring while it simmered. He pulled on his robe, walked out into the corridor, locked the door to the potion lab behind him and headed up to Dumbledore's office. He found Dumbledore sitting in one of a pair of overstuffed chairs in front of a fire that was crackling with multicolored flames. "Please do come sit down Severus," said the headmaster. Snape crossed the room to the chair. Fawkes, the headmaster's pet phoenix stirred on his perch and cooed a greeting and settled back into sleep. Snape settled wearily into the chair and let out a sigh.
"Goodness me, where are my manners this afternoon" said Dumbledore. "Can I offer you some lunch Severus? You didn't eat a thing at breakfast, you must be famished".
Snape let out a sigh and rolled his eyes. "Really Severus, you must eat, I cannot have you running yourself into the ground from hunger".
"Okay, okay. I'll eat, but I'm really not very hungry".
Dumbledore smiled at the weary potions master. "Very well, a sandwich then?" and snapped his fingers. A house elf appeared and the headmaster placed an order for a sandwich and glass of water for the professor. Dumbledore took a large brass poker and tended the fire in the fireplace, within seconds a plate of assorted sandwiches, a pitcher of water, and a glass appeared on a small table between the two chairs. Snape selected a sandwich from the platter, and ate rapidly. As a man who was in the habit of missing meals, Snape was used to hurriedly grabbing a bite to eat here and there when hunger became overbearing. He poured a glass of water and selected a second sandwich from the plate. A smile worked its way across the headmaster's face, he knew the potions master was under extreme stress, and he continued to busy himself with the fireplace while Snape ate his fill from the plate of food.
Once Snape had eaten his fill, Dumbledore returned to his chair and sat quietly for a minute, contemplating the fire, and the discussion he was about to have with the professor. "I read your report last night Severus, I am very concerned about this big attack being planned against the ministry".
"As am I" replied Snape. "This plan is not one that I have been made aware of, apparently I am not yet trusted again with the planning and carrying out of major attacks".
"This may be problematic," said the headmaster. "I need somebody on the inside who can get me information on the where, when, and who of this attack".
"Yes headmaster, I will do everything I can to get information so that preparations for defense can be made".
"Good, good, I have complete faith in you Severus".
"I am flattered by your confidence headmaster, I will not let you down" replied Snape.
"Now" said the headmaster. "I have your next assignment". You are to go to the celebration in the town square tomorrow evening, and be an out of sight observer, and send up a warning at the first hint of trouble".
"How will I accomplish this without being spotted?" asked Snape.
"I'm sending an invisibility cloak to your quarters via your house elf. You will wear it tomorrow evening and observe the festivities and watch the crowd for any known Death Eaters. You will keep a safe distance, so as not to be detected, and report back to me any information that you happen to overhear. If you see anything that looks like an attack getting ready to happen, use your wand and send up red sparks, and the village constables, the aurors, and others whom I have asked to attend the festival as security forces will rush to intercept the attack".
"Very well headmaster". "I will be ready to leave for the village tomorrow at sunset."
In the small apartment above the tailor shop, Mirabelle DelMare and her cousin's daughter, Patricia, were digging through a trunk of robes, shawls, and other assorted clothing that had been brought back from the Treadle family's summer holiday.
"Father always manages to mix business and pleasure." Complained Tricia, "We were supposed to be on holiday in Morocco, but he insisted on visiting some of the silk merchants to get samples of clothes to carry in the shop."
"Well kiddo, you certainly won't be complaining when you're the belle of the ball in your exotic Morrocan finery at the festival, now will you?" Tricia blushed, she was at the age where she was just coming into her own as a young woman, and beginning to pay attention to things like her clothes, hairstyle, and boys. "Anybody special filling up your dance card? Or are you going to be playing the field and playing it cool?" The woman said as she tossed a filmy silk dancing robe at the giggling girl.
"Stop it aunt Belle! You're teasing me!" Mirabelle got up, tousled the young girl's hair, and walked over to an armoire.
"Now that we have you sorted out with a dancing robe, what am I going to wear?" The girl fished a shimmering robe out of the trunk; the robe was black silk shot throughout with fine threads of silver.
"How about this one aunt Belle? It's your size."
"Ooh, I missed that one, thanks! The fabric is wonderful, with a little embellishment, maybe some little bells and jewels, it'll be perfect for the dance".
"Wear that one aunt Belle, and your dance card will be full all evening too" teased the girl as she ran giggling out the door and down the stairs. Mirabelle chuckled to herself, and held the robe up against her body and contemplated the reflection in the armoire mirror.
The afternoon passed quickly at both the Hogwarts potions lab and the Treadle family's' tailor shop. Professor Snape finished filling the jars with the salve, cleaned up the mess left from the preparation, and had time in the evening for a simple supper in the dining hall, some reading in front of the fireplace, and a long soothing bath before he fell into a much needed deep and restful sleep. Mirabelle excused Tricia from working in the shop that afternoon, so that she could go to the cafe' across the street for a soda and gossip session about the festival and dance with her girlfriends. Mirabelle assisted in last minute shopping and alterations orders for the big day, closed the shop, and retired to her apartment upstairs for a quick bite to eat before tackling the task of embellishing her dancing robe.
Albert, her cousin's husband, wouldn't mind that she took one of the nicer sample robes. He'd see it as good advertising to have his merchandise on display at the dance. Her cousin Suzette (who went simply by Susan now) would have something extremely elegant and opulent made for her by the tailor elves that did the bulk of the actual sewing for the tailor shop. Susan's husband prided himself in having one of the best-dressed witches in the village as his wife. Susan and Albert Treadle lived with their daughter, Patricia, in a large house on the edge of town. When Mirabelle's life fell apart back home in the United States, Susan welcomed her into their home and then offered her a job and keys to the apartment above the tailor shop. Grateful for the change of pace, Mirabelle gladly accepted the offer and had been working in the tailor shop and living in Hogsmeade for close to three years now. She had grown very fond of her cousin's daughter, who was fascinated with her and her heavily muggle influenced upbringing back in the States.
Mirabelle sewed the last little silver bell and sparkling garnet stone onto the robe, hung it on the outside of her armoire, admired it for a moment, and then got ready for bed. Tomorrow would be a short day in the shop. It was closing at noontime in preparation for the festival. That would give her plenty of time to bathe, fix her hair and makeup, and dress for the dance. She extinguished the lamps and blew out the candle on her bedside table and drifted off to sleep, dreaming strange dreams of dancing with even stranger men in long black cloaks.
Disclaimer: Nothing recognized from the books is mine.
Chapter 5: Preparations for the Festival.
Snape awoke the next morning with his hair drenched in sweat, his clothes rumpled, and his bedcovers wadded up from tossing and turning. He came to consciousness, realized where he was and remembered the events in the tavern the night before. He remembered Mirabelle and her companion, the three young Death Eaters, and a cold chill ran up his back as he had a vivid mental image of the two women lying bloody and mutilated on the ground in the alleyway. Bile rising in his throat, he got up and ran into the bathroom and retched repeatedly until the wave of nausea passed. Hands shaking, he staggered to a chest in the corner of the bathroom, removed a small vial of potion, leaned against the wall for support, and drank it down in one swallow. He staggered back to the edge of his bed, and sat with his head bowed until his hands stopped shaking and his breathing returned to normal. He got back up, rinsed his mouth out, splashed cold water onto his face, ran a comb through his sweaty tangled hair, and went into his bedchamber to change clothes.
He left his chambers and went up to the faculty dining room, where Dumbledore was breakfasting with Professor Sprout, Hagrid, and Mr. Filch. He sat at an empty place setting, and turned the teacup right side up on the saucer. It instantly filled with hot steaming tea. He crossed the knife and fork over the plate and pushed them away.
Dumbledore raised an eyebrow. "What? No breakfast, Severus? Not even a piece of toast?"
Snape gave the headmaster a sharp look. "Tea will suffice, I'm not feeling well this morning, possibly a touch of the flu or something, I'm sure it will pass".
"Well, then you should head over to the hospital wing and have Poppy get out an anti-nausea serum for you".
"Thanks headmaster, but I shan't bother her. If necessary, I can manage a simple anti-nausea serum in my lab".
"Very well Severus, I trust that you have some pressing work to attend to this morning. But please come by my office at noontime, we have much to discuss".
"Yes headmaster, I shall see you then" replied the potions master curtly. And with that, he drained his cup of tea, turned the cup upside down on the saucer and rose silently from the table and headed back to his lab.
Snape spent the morning preparing the ingredients for a batch of potent healing salve for Madame Pomfrey and Mademoiselle Lowrey in the school infirmary. If violence again came to the school, the nurse and her new assistant would need to have a significant store of healing potions at their disposal. Snape lit a fire under a cauldron, dumped in the ingredients for the salve, and charmed a small wooden paddle to keep the mixture stirring while it simmered. He pulled on his robe, walked out into the corridor, locked the door to the potion lab behind him and headed up to Dumbledore's office. He found Dumbledore sitting in one of a pair of overstuffed chairs in front of a fire that was crackling with multicolored flames. "Please do come sit down Severus," said the headmaster. Snape crossed the room to the chair. Fawkes, the headmaster's pet phoenix stirred on his perch and cooed a greeting and settled back into sleep. Snape settled wearily into the chair and let out a sigh.
"Goodness me, where are my manners this afternoon" said Dumbledore. "Can I offer you some lunch Severus? You didn't eat a thing at breakfast, you must be famished".
Snape let out a sigh and rolled his eyes. "Really Severus, you must eat, I cannot have you running yourself into the ground from hunger".
"Okay, okay. I'll eat, but I'm really not very hungry".
Dumbledore smiled at the weary potions master. "Very well, a sandwich then?" and snapped his fingers. A house elf appeared and the headmaster placed an order for a sandwich and glass of water for the professor. Dumbledore took a large brass poker and tended the fire in the fireplace, within seconds a plate of assorted sandwiches, a pitcher of water, and a glass appeared on a small table between the two chairs. Snape selected a sandwich from the platter, and ate rapidly. As a man who was in the habit of missing meals, Snape was used to hurriedly grabbing a bite to eat here and there when hunger became overbearing. He poured a glass of water and selected a second sandwich from the plate. A smile worked its way across the headmaster's face, he knew the potions master was under extreme stress, and he continued to busy himself with the fireplace while Snape ate his fill from the plate of food.
Once Snape had eaten his fill, Dumbledore returned to his chair and sat quietly for a minute, contemplating the fire, and the discussion he was about to have with the professor. "I read your report last night Severus, I am very concerned about this big attack being planned against the ministry".
"As am I" replied Snape. "This plan is not one that I have been made aware of, apparently I am not yet trusted again with the planning and carrying out of major attacks".
"This may be problematic," said the headmaster. "I need somebody on the inside who can get me information on the where, when, and who of this attack".
"Yes headmaster, I will do everything I can to get information so that preparations for defense can be made".
"Good, good, I have complete faith in you Severus".
"I am flattered by your confidence headmaster, I will not let you down" replied Snape.
"Now" said the headmaster. "I have your next assignment". You are to go to the celebration in the town square tomorrow evening, and be an out of sight observer, and send up a warning at the first hint of trouble".
"How will I accomplish this without being spotted?" asked Snape.
"I'm sending an invisibility cloak to your quarters via your house elf. You will wear it tomorrow evening and observe the festivities and watch the crowd for any known Death Eaters. You will keep a safe distance, so as not to be detected, and report back to me any information that you happen to overhear. If you see anything that looks like an attack getting ready to happen, use your wand and send up red sparks, and the village constables, the aurors, and others whom I have asked to attend the festival as security forces will rush to intercept the attack".
"Very well headmaster". "I will be ready to leave for the village tomorrow at sunset."
In the small apartment above the tailor shop, Mirabelle DelMare and her cousin's daughter, Patricia, were digging through a trunk of robes, shawls, and other assorted clothing that had been brought back from the Treadle family's summer holiday.
"Father always manages to mix business and pleasure." Complained Tricia, "We were supposed to be on holiday in Morocco, but he insisted on visiting some of the silk merchants to get samples of clothes to carry in the shop."
"Well kiddo, you certainly won't be complaining when you're the belle of the ball in your exotic Morrocan finery at the festival, now will you?" Tricia blushed, she was at the age where she was just coming into her own as a young woman, and beginning to pay attention to things like her clothes, hairstyle, and boys. "Anybody special filling up your dance card? Or are you going to be playing the field and playing it cool?" The woman said as she tossed a filmy silk dancing robe at the giggling girl.
"Stop it aunt Belle! You're teasing me!" Mirabelle got up, tousled the young girl's hair, and walked over to an armoire.
"Now that we have you sorted out with a dancing robe, what am I going to wear?" The girl fished a shimmering robe out of the trunk; the robe was black silk shot throughout with fine threads of silver.
"How about this one aunt Belle? It's your size."
"Ooh, I missed that one, thanks! The fabric is wonderful, with a little embellishment, maybe some little bells and jewels, it'll be perfect for the dance".
"Wear that one aunt Belle, and your dance card will be full all evening too" teased the girl as she ran giggling out the door and down the stairs. Mirabelle chuckled to herself, and held the robe up against her body and contemplated the reflection in the armoire mirror.
The afternoon passed quickly at both the Hogwarts potions lab and the Treadle family's' tailor shop. Professor Snape finished filling the jars with the salve, cleaned up the mess left from the preparation, and had time in the evening for a simple supper in the dining hall, some reading in front of the fireplace, and a long soothing bath before he fell into a much needed deep and restful sleep. Mirabelle excused Tricia from working in the shop that afternoon, so that she could go to the cafe' across the street for a soda and gossip session about the festival and dance with her girlfriends. Mirabelle assisted in last minute shopping and alterations orders for the big day, closed the shop, and retired to her apartment upstairs for a quick bite to eat before tackling the task of embellishing her dancing robe.
Albert, her cousin's husband, wouldn't mind that she took one of the nicer sample robes. He'd see it as good advertising to have his merchandise on display at the dance. Her cousin Suzette (who went simply by Susan now) would have something extremely elegant and opulent made for her by the tailor elves that did the bulk of the actual sewing for the tailor shop. Susan's husband prided himself in having one of the best-dressed witches in the village as his wife. Susan and Albert Treadle lived with their daughter, Patricia, in a large house on the edge of town. When Mirabelle's life fell apart back home in the United States, Susan welcomed her into their home and then offered her a job and keys to the apartment above the tailor shop. Grateful for the change of pace, Mirabelle gladly accepted the offer and had been working in the tailor shop and living in Hogsmeade for close to three years now. She had grown very fond of her cousin's daughter, who was fascinated with her and her heavily muggle influenced upbringing back in the States.
Mirabelle sewed the last little silver bell and sparkling garnet stone onto the robe, hung it on the outside of her armoire, admired it for a moment, and then got ready for bed. Tomorrow would be a short day in the shop. It was closing at noontime in preparation for the festival. That would give her plenty of time to bathe, fix her hair and makeup, and dress for the dance. She extinguished the lamps and blew out the candle on her bedside table and drifted off to sleep, dreaming strange dreams of dancing with even stranger men in long black cloaks.