Chapter 12:
The rest of the day is spent in the dungeons, Severus inexplicably absent. I do not speak to anyone, using my time instead to keep an update on my correspondence. I have several friends and colleagues anxiously awaiting news of my settling in. I shall send the letters via international floo, not wanting to tax Severus's poor owl too terribly; only a short trip down to the post office in Hogsmeade is required for the letters to be dispatched.
Thirteen letters, three hours, and a hand cramp later, I sit back in the high backed chair, my back complaining in protest at having to sit hunched for so long. The candle in the corner of Severus's desk has melted short.
Without my noticing, the sky has grown dark. I have no doubt missed supper. Moving to the small pantry with which Severus has provided the makings for a small snack or meal, I procure water crackers, a crumbly Stilton, and a very fine port.
Settling in front of the fire, I lose myself in Severus's collection of ancient tomes on a variety of topics. Before I know, there comes a loud knocking on the door. Rubbing my eyes, I make my way slowly to the door.
Opening it, I find Remus in the doorway, a paper clutched in his hand. "Bena, where's Severus?" he asks urgently.
"I do not know, Remus. How late is it?"
"Late? Bena, it is very early." He tells me, a hint of bewilderment in his voice.
Turning a blearly eye in the direction of the window, I find he is telling the truth. I slept through the night on the sofa.
"Bena, where is Severus?"
Confused as why he is asking again, I shake my head, "I've no idea. He wasn't in our rooms when I returned from Diagon Alley," Remus looks at me sharply, I forget he does not know about my meeting with Narcissa, "and he apparently hasn't returned yet. Why?"
Remus's face carries a pained expression as he raises his eyes to mine. "Bena, Severus left yesterday to go to Malfoy Manor, and, presumably, to proceed to a Death Eater meeting. He has not yet informed Albus of his return, as he always does."
His final sentence hits me bit by bit. "Remus, why are you holding the paper so tightly? Why are so worried? Remus, please, tell me." I realize by this time, my tone has become distraut. I am, for the first time in my life, playing the worried wife. I find I do not like it at all. My heart is in my throat, my stomach is doing turns, and my pulse is fluttering.
Remus swallows and pushes past me, into the room. As he does, he presses the Daily Prophet into my hands. Unfolding it, I am confronted with the disdainful smile of Lucius Malfoy, sneering up at me from under the headline 'Release from Azkaban: Minister Fudge orders release of Lucius Malfoy'
A breath catches in my throat. At that moment, there is a pecking at the window. Torn from the dizzingly number of thoughts playing out in my head, I walk over the window, taking the letter from an unfamiliar owl. I open it, Remus watching me carefully.
I do not register the imprint of the seal, a deep green. Instead, my eyes are drawn to the tidy print covering only a scant line of the small folded parchment. It is a line from Narcissa, requesting my presence at Malfoy Manor that evening for dinner. The note asks for a response, which explains why the owl has stayed at the window.
I look wildly to Remus, showing him the note. His look provides me no answers. "You must say yes. Severus is most likely there. You need, you need to go there, Bena."
I nod and scribble a response in the affirmative. The owl soars out the window. Remus and I are left alone again. I feel a shudder of tears wracking its way through my chest. Before I am aware of it myself, my knees buckle below.
Remus catches me, and guides me to the sofa. His arms envelope me; I feel no hidden impulse of desire from his ministrations. That, more than his embrace, comforts me and I lean further into him, the stress from the part week surfacing.
I do not speak to him of my woes, content merely to cry. We stay like this a while longer, until Remus, gently, brushes my hair from my tear-stained face. Kissing my forehead, he draws me from the sofa.
"We should speak to Albus."
Giving him a small smile, I nod, but say, "No, Remus, I need to speak with Albus. I will go to him now. Thank you."
Quitting myself of his presence, I walk resolutely towards Albus's office. As I am passing through the Great Hall, Minerva's voice cuts across my clouded thoughts.
"Settled in then, Professor?"
I sigh loudly. Now is not the time for a confrontation with Minerva. Turning to face her, I draw myself up to my full height, as impressive as her own. She walks the three remaining steps down to bring herself even with me. She closes the gap so we are mere inches apart.
"I am observing you, Bena. Hurt Severus, even a little, and I will come down upon you. He will be too easily broken."
Though I do not betray it to her, I am shaken. "Minerva, there will be a time when I will desire nothing more than to squabble and argue with you. Now, however, I am on my way to Albus. Please forgive me."
Sweeping past her, I continue my climb up the stairs. Feeling my heart beat painfully in my chest, I have hope Albus will be able to put it all right. The mother lion is protecting her cub more fiercely than I expected. Knocking loudly, I again hear the words, "Enter, my child."
The rest of the day is spent in the dungeons, Severus inexplicably absent. I do not speak to anyone, using my time instead to keep an update on my correspondence. I have several friends and colleagues anxiously awaiting news of my settling in. I shall send the letters via international floo, not wanting to tax Severus's poor owl too terribly; only a short trip down to the post office in Hogsmeade is required for the letters to be dispatched.
Thirteen letters, three hours, and a hand cramp later, I sit back in the high backed chair, my back complaining in protest at having to sit hunched for so long. The candle in the corner of Severus's desk has melted short.
Without my noticing, the sky has grown dark. I have no doubt missed supper. Moving to the small pantry with which Severus has provided the makings for a small snack or meal, I procure water crackers, a crumbly Stilton, and a very fine port.
Settling in front of the fire, I lose myself in Severus's collection of ancient tomes on a variety of topics. Before I know, there comes a loud knocking on the door. Rubbing my eyes, I make my way slowly to the door.
Opening it, I find Remus in the doorway, a paper clutched in his hand. "Bena, where's Severus?" he asks urgently.
"I do not know, Remus. How late is it?"
"Late? Bena, it is very early." He tells me, a hint of bewilderment in his voice.
Turning a blearly eye in the direction of the window, I find he is telling the truth. I slept through the night on the sofa.
"Bena, where is Severus?"
Confused as why he is asking again, I shake my head, "I've no idea. He wasn't in our rooms when I returned from Diagon Alley," Remus looks at me sharply, I forget he does not know about my meeting with Narcissa, "and he apparently hasn't returned yet. Why?"
Remus's face carries a pained expression as he raises his eyes to mine. "Bena, Severus left yesterday to go to Malfoy Manor, and, presumably, to proceed to a Death Eater meeting. He has not yet informed Albus of his return, as he always does."
His final sentence hits me bit by bit. "Remus, why are you holding the paper so tightly? Why are so worried? Remus, please, tell me." I realize by this time, my tone has become distraut. I am, for the first time in my life, playing the worried wife. I find I do not like it at all. My heart is in my throat, my stomach is doing turns, and my pulse is fluttering.
Remus swallows and pushes past me, into the room. As he does, he presses the Daily Prophet into my hands. Unfolding it, I am confronted with the disdainful smile of Lucius Malfoy, sneering up at me from under the headline 'Release from Azkaban: Minister Fudge orders release of Lucius Malfoy'
A breath catches in my throat. At that moment, there is a pecking at the window. Torn from the dizzingly number of thoughts playing out in my head, I walk over the window, taking the letter from an unfamiliar owl. I open it, Remus watching me carefully.
I do not register the imprint of the seal, a deep green. Instead, my eyes are drawn to the tidy print covering only a scant line of the small folded parchment. It is a line from Narcissa, requesting my presence at Malfoy Manor that evening for dinner. The note asks for a response, which explains why the owl has stayed at the window.
I look wildly to Remus, showing him the note. His look provides me no answers. "You must say yes. Severus is most likely there. You need, you need to go there, Bena."
I nod and scribble a response in the affirmative. The owl soars out the window. Remus and I are left alone again. I feel a shudder of tears wracking its way through my chest. Before I am aware of it myself, my knees buckle below.
Remus catches me, and guides me to the sofa. His arms envelope me; I feel no hidden impulse of desire from his ministrations. That, more than his embrace, comforts me and I lean further into him, the stress from the part week surfacing.
I do not speak to him of my woes, content merely to cry. We stay like this a while longer, until Remus, gently, brushes my hair from my tear-stained face. Kissing my forehead, he draws me from the sofa.
"We should speak to Albus."
Giving him a small smile, I nod, but say, "No, Remus, I need to speak with Albus. I will go to him now. Thank you."
Quitting myself of his presence, I walk resolutely towards Albus's office. As I am passing through the Great Hall, Minerva's voice cuts across my clouded thoughts.
"Settled in then, Professor?"
I sigh loudly. Now is not the time for a confrontation with Minerva. Turning to face her, I draw myself up to my full height, as impressive as her own. She walks the three remaining steps down to bring herself even with me. She closes the gap so we are mere inches apart.
"I am observing you, Bena. Hurt Severus, even a little, and I will come down upon you. He will be too easily broken."
Though I do not betray it to her, I am shaken. "Minerva, there will be a time when I will desire nothing more than to squabble and argue with you. Now, however, I am on my way to Albus. Please forgive me."
Sweeping past her, I continue my climb up the stairs. Feeling my heart beat painfully in my chest, I have hope Albus will be able to put it all right. The mother lion is protecting her cub more fiercely than I expected. Knocking loudly, I again hear the words, "Enter, my child."