Chapter 35:
Tom does not make me take the mark. It would be difficult to conceal against my uncle. He keeps me well after the Death Eaters had departed, Severus included, using Legimens to determine my legitimacy. As my feet hit the stone steps of Hogwarts, I imagine Severus and Albus will be waiting for me on the other side of the threshold. I know Severus will have informed him of the night's events.
Very well. I brace myself and swing wide the doors.
No one is there.
Peering carefully into every crevice of the entryway, I am alone.
Tucking my hair behind both ears, I raise my wand cautiously and continue forward. The entire length of the trip down to the dungeons I meet no one; I hear nothing. Curious.
Opening the door to my rooms, I am once again greeted by nothing. Upon closer inspection, there is a piece of parchment on the table. In the firelight, I read,
Bena-
I am sure you have your own reasons and motivations for choosing as you did this evening. Know only that I have not informed Albus. I have been called away for a few days. Enjoy the solitude. The students are fast approaching.
Faithfully yours,
S.A. Snape
I turn the letter over in my hands several times, willing it to reveal more. Nothing. Folding it in to fourths, I shove it unceremoniously into an inner pocket and sit down on the couch. That Severus is unsure of my motives is unsettling. I sit, staring at the fire until I lose track of time.
It has not been my intention to mislead those close to me. I think it is merely the instinct of self-preservation that I acted upon tonight. I had no under-lying intention of malice in agreeing to what I did. I have been told, and I have seen it often, that parents will gladly give their own lives for that of their children. Harry Potter is living proof of this. I have seldom been more thankful than this moment that Severus and I never had the chance to procreate. I would be disappointed, firstly, that the poor child's parents were such vile creatures, but even more, it would have meant my death, or that of my husband this evening.
I would much prefer to be selfish. Severus I know can take care of himself. I was left to fend for myself tonight, as I have been for most of my life. Albus does not know about my agreement, I remind myself. Do I tell him? The knowledge that my poor abused brain could not take much more invasion at this point, I opt out of visiting.
Instead, I begin to pace the cold floor of my rooms. I do think of them as mine, actually our, rooms. The bookshelves Severus cleared for me and now filled with my books. I run a thumb over the familiar spines, straightening up to look over the not unimpressive collection of my husband. He has the obligatory potions manuals and volumes.
Though not necessarily his first love, Severus flung himself passionately into potions, once he discovered he had a knack for it. He has several articles published. He was particularly instrumental in the creation and refinement of the Wolfsbane. I have often wondered what drew him to that potion. Although a crude form of the potion existed when Remus was at school, the side effects far out-weighed any benefits. In the years Remus was in the States, including his time with me, the potion made leaps and bounds due to exorbitant funding from the private sector both in Britain and the States. The result was the wolfsbane as it is known today. Severus was one of the brewers heavily involved in Britain.
Remus' face floats into my mind. It will be full moon in three nights. I know he dreads each one, always fearing the damage he could do those whom he loves. I choke down the sob forcing its way through my chest. It is a cruel twist of fate that the two men I was given to love are so opposite.
Remus is everything soft, gentle and kind. He is exceedingly patient and warm. Watching him interact with the children at Hogwarts has been gratifying. It is his calling. He has the temperament of an old soul, made older by the sheer maturity with which he has been forced to act most his life. Thinking of him brings a smile to my face. He tries so desperately to make up for the horribleness of his being a werewolf. He is indeed a tame werewolf. His only fault is that he has never rejoiced in the raw strength and energy he possesses when in his wolf form. He has never fully realized his power.
Severus, on the other hand, has spent most his life attempting to attain power. He started near the bottom and has strived since he was young to better himself. And while that is an admirable trait, Severus was raised without morals. He was taught to fend for himself and damn the others. And, since it was all he ever knew, he took it to heart. He is a cold, calculating adult. Not incapable of love and softness, but unwilling. He was taught that love and kindness and the like were weaknesses to be exploited. And exploited them he has. He can be heartless, striking down the fragile shell of teenaged witches with one offhand comment. He could cast the killing curse and feel only pleasure at doing his master's will. He is a hard, brittle man.
He is indeed brittle. Easily broken if one only knows where to strike. I have the knowledge, and have chipped away pieces on occasion, but I have never thought about breaking him fully. Albus has crossed the line even further than me. But neither of us has completely crossed over. And I do not intend to do so now.
Pulling a small rune from the same inner pocket that houses the parchment from Severus, I rub the well-worn rock between my fingers. It is inscribed with Berkano, the runic symbol for a love affair. Remus gave it to me years ago, days after we first met. Nodding to myself, I continue to move the rock about my fingers and take off for the lake.
I arrive sooner than expected. Looking about me, I see no one. Good. I take the stone out and toss it twice in the air before pulling my left arm back. In one supple wrist movement, the stone is released from my hand and goes skipping across the surface of the lake. After seven skips, it sinks below the surface.
That chapter of my life has ended. I breathe a sigh of relief, knowing my decision to be final. I stare at the lake a few moments longer, the earliest glints of light beginning to hit.
Severus may not be a man to inflame longing, desire, and lasting loyalty in most that he meets, but, so many years ago, with one appraising look he managed to ensnare me heart and soul. I took a vow eighteen years ago to be his, and to that vow I hold true.
Fingering the ring on my left hand I nod again and begin the trek back to the castle.
Tom does not make me take the mark. It would be difficult to conceal against my uncle. He keeps me well after the Death Eaters had departed, Severus included, using Legimens to determine my legitimacy. As my feet hit the stone steps of Hogwarts, I imagine Severus and Albus will be waiting for me on the other side of the threshold. I know Severus will have informed him of the night's events.
Very well. I brace myself and swing wide the doors.
No one is there.
Peering carefully into every crevice of the entryway, I am alone.
Tucking my hair behind both ears, I raise my wand cautiously and continue forward. The entire length of the trip down to the dungeons I meet no one; I hear nothing. Curious.
Opening the door to my rooms, I am once again greeted by nothing. Upon closer inspection, there is a piece of parchment on the table. In the firelight, I read,
Bena-
I am sure you have your own reasons and motivations for choosing as you did this evening. Know only that I have not informed Albus. I have been called away for a few days. Enjoy the solitude. The students are fast approaching.
Faithfully yours,
S.A. Snape
I turn the letter over in my hands several times, willing it to reveal more. Nothing. Folding it in to fourths, I shove it unceremoniously into an inner pocket and sit down on the couch. That Severus is unsure of my motives is unsettling. I sit, staring at the fire until I lose track of time.
It has not been my intention to mislead those close to me. I think it is merely the instinct of self-preservation that I acted upon tonight. I had no under-lying intention of malice in agreeing to what I did. I have been told, and I have seen it often, that parents will gladly give their own lives for that of their children. Harry Potter is living proof of this. I have seldom been more thankful than this moment that Severus and I never had the chance to procreate. I would be disappointed, firstly, that the poor child's parents were such vile creatures, but even more, it would have meant my death, or that of my husband this evening.
I would much prefer to be selfish. Severus I know can take care of himself. I was left to fend for myself tonight, as I have been for most of my life. Albus does not know about my agreement, I remind myself. Do I tell him? The knowledge that my poor abused brain could not take much more invasion at this point, I opt out of visiting.
Instead, I begin to pace the cold floor of my rooms. I do think of them as mine, actually our, rooms. The bookshelves Severus cleared for me and now filled with my books. I run a thumb over the familiar spines, straightening up to look over the not unimpressive collection of my husband. He has the obligatory potions manuals and volumes.
Though not necessarily his first love, Severus flung himself passionately into potions, once he discovered he had a knack for it. He has several articles published. He was particularly instrumental in the creation and refinement of the Wolfsbane. I have often wondered what drew him to that potion. Although a crude form of the potion existed when Remus was at school, the side effects far out-weighed any benefits. In the years Remus was in the States, including his time with me, the potion made leaps and bounds due to exorbitant funding from the private sector both in Britain and the States. The result was the wolfsbane as it is known today. Severus was one of the brewers heavily involved in Britain.
Remus' face floats into my mind. It will be full moon in three nights. I know he dreads each one, always fearing the damage he could do those whom he loves. I choke down the sob forcing its way through my chest. It is a cruel twist of fate that the two men I was given to love are so opposite.
Remus is everything soft, gentle and kind. He is exceedingly patient and warm. Watching him interact with the children at Hogwarts has been gratifying. It is his calling. He has the temperament of an old soul, made older by the sheer maturity with which he has been forced to act most his life. Thinking of him brings a smile to my face. He tries so desperately to make up for the horribleness of his being a werewolf. He is indeed a tame werewolf. His only fault is that he has never rejoiced in the raw strength and energy he possesses when in his wolf form. He has never fully realized his power.
Severus, on the other hand, has spent most his life attempting to attain power. He started near the bottom and has strived since he was young to better himself. And while that is an admirable trait, Severus was raised without morals. He was taught to fend for himself and damn the others. And, since it was all he ever knew, he took it to heart. He is a cold, calculating adult. Not incapable of love and softness, but unwilling. He was taught that love and kindness and the like were weaknesses to be exploited. And exploited them he has. He can be heartless, striking down the fragile shell of teenaged witches with one offhand comment. He could cast the killing curse and feel only pleasure at doing his master's will. He is a hard, brittle man.
He is indeed brittle. Easily broken if one only knows where to strike. I have the knowledge, and have chipped away pieces on occasion, but I have never thought about breaking him fully. Albus has crossed the line even further than me. But neither of us has completely crossed over. And I do not intend to do so now.
Pulling a small rune from the same inner pocket that houses the parchment from Severus, I rub the well-worn rock between my fingers. It is inscribed with Berkano, the runic symbol for a love affair. Remus gave it to me years ago, days after we first met. Nodding to myself, I continue to move the rock about my fingers and take off for the lake.
I arrive sooner than expected. Looking about me, I see no one. Good. I take the stone out and toss it twice in the air before pulling my left arm back. In one supple wrist movement, the stone is released from my hand and goes skipping across the surface of the lake. After seven skips, it sinks below the surface.
That chapter of my life has ended. I breathe a sigh of relief, knowing my decision to be final. I stare at the lake a few moments longer, the earliest glints of light beginning to hit.
Severus may not be a man to inflame longing, desire, and lasting loyalty in most that he meets, but, so many years ago, with one appraising look he managed to ensnare me heart and soul. I took a vow eighteen years ago to be his, and to that vow I hold true.
Fingering the ring on my left hand I nod again and begin the trek back to the castle.