Chapter 26
Losses and gains III
Days passed, each new one frightfully similar to the last. Apart from sleeping, eating and other such necessities, Elizabeth seldom resorted to activities that didn't include the words 'reading or being questioned on Potions books' in them, which meant she would often allow herself a short break only once a day – during her friends' visits. And so it was only thanks to them she had learnt that, after being proved wrong once and for all in the matter of Voldemort's comeback, Cornelius Fudge had finally decided to hand in his resignation, with the position of the Minister for Magic eventually passing on to Ron's father, Mr Weasley, who had immediately made use of his newly gained power and awarded Order of Merlin, First Class, to all those who had participated in the defeat of the Dark Lord directly, while everybody else involved in the battle received its Second Class version. The ceremony, where the Minister would actually give out the shiny badges connected with the award, was planned for Christmas. But apart from the fact that Dumbledore had finally allowed the younger students to come back and resume their classes (with Snape being assigned to teach both Defence Against the Dark Arts and Potions for the time being), and also the not-too-surprising news of Jane becoming the new captain of the Ravenclaw Quidditch team, this was about the only interesting piece of information her friends had managed to supply her with since their first two visits, making her feel somewhat excluded from all the usual bustle that dominated the Hogwarts castle. She was by now practically the only one left in the hospital wing, after all.
Strange as it may seem, however, she still considered her stay there to be one of the most wonderful things that had managed to take place in her life so far, and it was all thanks to Snape. There were no words to describe just how much she was looking forward to seeing him every day, and how sad she was to see him go whenever he decided that their little lesson was over. Foolish really, how she used to think that her love for him had already reached its limit, that it couldn't possibly grow any stronger, for it was only a matter of time before she came to discover just how wrong she was. Love did hurt, she knew that now, seeing that even the simple fact of having him sitting so close to her and not being able to reach out and touch him was enough to make her heart bleed.
Try as she might, however, Elizabeth could still see no definite proof of him feeling the same, no matter what her grandmother might have said, but at least he had gradually lost some of his determination to keep strictly to the subject of Potions, mainly because, thanks to Hermione's miraculous memory booster, she was proving to be a much faster learner than either of them had initially hoped, and therefore could afford to broach even something more personal every now and then without the danger of falling behind with her studies. It was usually she who was doing most of the talking in such cases, however, and so while Snape soon knew the details of her life inside out, she still knew almost nothing about him, being too afraid to ask him directly in case he'd consider it a violation of the promise she had made at the beginning of his second visit. But since he had turned out to be an exceptional listener, who actually seemed genuinely interested in what she was saying, Elizabeth was quite happy to leave things as they were for the time being, and simply continue being the one who gave out all the personal information rather than the one who received it. It was only later that her curiosity finally got the better of her, and so, having just finished recounting one particularly unpleasant episode from her own pre-Hogwarts days, she took a deep breath and asked: "Sir, what was your childhood like?"
Snape threw her a suspicious look. "Why do you want to know, Miss Woodhouse?"
Elizabeth shrugged. "I just thought it would be interesting to learn something about the home life of a wizarding family," she said innocently. "And since all my friends are Muggle-born, I thought I'd ask you. You are pure-blooded, aren't you, sir?"
"Yes, Miss Woodhouse," replied Snape with a smirk. "I am indeed pure-blooded. As is Mr Longbottom, I believe. Or do you not count him as your friend?"
Elizabeth sighed. Gods, that man was insufferable! But it was her fault, she should have thought of Neville before attempting that little lie of hers. Now she'd better quickly think of something nice and witty to help her clean up the mess she had so foolishly managed to get herself into...
"I do count 'Mr Longbottom' as a friend," she said finally, "only, as far as I know, he doesn't come from a typical family, having been raised by his grandmother instead of his parents. Besides, he had only discovered that he wasn't a Squib shortly before he came to Hogwarts." She smiled. "You, on the other hand, could probably do magic even before you learned how to walk."
For a short moment, Snape looked as though he would smile too, but he caught himself just in time. "I cannot deny that, Miss Woodhouse," he said, still looking somewhat amused. "But what makes you think that my family, unlike Mr Longbottom's, had indeed been a complete one I simply cannot imagine."
"I just assumed..."
"I see. And I suppose you also expected my life at home to be a picture of happiness, didn't you?"
Elizabeth didn't see the trap hidden in that question until it was far too late. "No, Professor," she said firmly. "I'd say your childhood must have been far from ideal."
"Which brings us back to my original question," said Snape smugly. "Why are you so keen on my telling you something about it?"
Elizabeth had had enough. "Because I've told you so much about myself already, and would therefore think it'd be only fair if I got to hear something about you for a change."
"You do not know what you are asking for, Miss Woodhouse," said Snape stiffly. "I assure you that nothing concerning my life is pleasant to listen to."
Elizabeth let out a sigh of exasperation, not really sure how much more of this she could take. "Professor," she said in a voice of forced calm, letting several seconds pass before she continued, "I am not a child any more, so please stop treating me like one. I am also not as weak as I might look. I promise I won't faint whenever the details of your narrative get a little more ... delicate, let's say. And I most certainly won't pity you, if that's what you're afraid of. I will simply listen, that is all."
Snape still didn't look entirely convinced, but eventually gave in and, with a quiet "Very well, then," began to tell his tale. And so, with the help of a few encouraging questions, Elizabeth finally got to learn a little more about the man she had come to love so much in the course of the past couple of years, and was now slowly beginning to see exactly why he had turned into the cold and bitter person that he was today.
He, as she had expected, was an only child, born to a certain Mrs Priscilla Snape in the year 1960. Her husband, a very rich and powerful man from an old wizarding family, was a thoroughly unpleasant man with a propensity to despotism, who didn't care for his wife at all and saw his son merely as an heir to his enormous fortune. He tended to treat him as an adult from a very early age, expecting him to meet his excessively high demands at all times, and was therefore severely disappointed whenever Snape failed to fulfill his wishes to his satisfaction. He didn't hesitate to even beat him up every now and then, and whenever his wife tried to put an end to it, she received her fair share of the beating as well. She never gave up on her attempts to protect her son, however, even if they mostly ended up in a fierce but pointless argument with her husband, after which she would usually lock herself in her room and cry for several hours. Gradually developing a phobia of some sort, she slowly ceased leaving her room altogether as the time went by, sneaking out only to steal herself something to eat, or to check on her son whenever she was certain that her husband had gone away. World-weary and ill, it was only a matter of time before she eventually passed away.
Snape was only seven at the time of his mother's death, but he grieved for her all the same, realizing only too well what he had lost in her. He was now all alone ... all alone with his somewhat unbalanced father who was by now satisfied with almost nothing Snape did, which consequently led to beatings even more severe and frequent than before. All in all, Snape's life had turned into pure hell. That's why his father's decision to send him to Hogwarts a year early (clearly only to finally get rid of him) had come as something of a rescue for him, and he immediately started looking forward to whatever was awaiting him at his new home, seeing he was sure it could never be even half as bad as the life he was leading now. Determined to finally get the recognition his father had never given him, he plunged headfirst into the schoolbooks he had bought himself at Diagon Alley, and by the time the day to leave for Hogwarts had finally arrived, he knew them all by heart.
His enthusiasm didn't last long, however, for the one person he had managed to run into as soon as he boarded the Hogwarts Express for the first time was none other than his future greatest enemy: a tousled, bespectacled boy called James Potter. For reasons unknown, they took a dislike against each other almost immediately, and their relationship had been like that of a cat and a mouse ever since. But while Snape usually tried to avoid his enemy (as well as the small gang he had eventually managed to surround himself with) as best he could, preferring to concentrate on his studies instead, Potter seemed to pick fights with him whenever he had the chance, thus earning both of them a record amount of detentions every week.
Snape, however, wasn't put off, and continued studying harder than ever. His exam results were virtually unbeatable, making him by far one of the best students Hogwarts has ever had. But while he continued achieving top grades in pretty much everything he chose to study, his favourite subjects had always been Potions and Defence Against the Dark Arts. There was not much he didn't know when it came to those two particular areas, especially the latter where he had read not only everything concerning defence, but a huge amount of books dealing with the Dark Arts themselves as well. He soon became completely obsessed with them, and his determination to learn as much about them as he possibly could only grew when his father, having once caught him snooping around in the Dark Arts section of the private library they had at home, strictly forbid him to ever touch those books again, claiming they would bring him anything but good. The infamous Whomping Willow incident, during which Snape had nearly lost his life thanks to a foolish joke played on him by the Marauders, followed soon after, and when even Dumbledore, whom he had until then considered as one of the few people who were on his side, failed to stand up for him at that time, Snape, at first completely devastated, eventually decided to try his luck elsewhere.
Ever since he had first started school the Slytherin House had been full of gossip about some Dark wizard who was determined to take over the world and eventually clear it of all Muggles, but he had never paid it much attention. Now, however, it was quite a different story. He listened eagerly to any mention of the man whose name not even the bravest dared to speak, and it didn't take long before he found a group of Slytherins who were not only just as crazy about the Dark Arts as he was, but they were also hoping to join the Dark wizard's ranks shortly after their graduation from Hogwarts. Amazed by his incredible knowledge and skills, they soon accepted him into their midst, and so, for the first time in his life, Snape finally felt like he actually belonged somewhere. That's why he didn't hesitate at all when his so-called friends asked him to follow the same path they had chosen, having already decided to join the Dark Lord quite some time ago anyway, and he gladly endured the many gruesome tests that all the would-be Death Eaters had to undergo at the same time they did.
No matter how much Elizabeth implored, however, Snape refused to tell her anything whatsoever about the exact nature of those tests, and he was also absolutely uncompromising when it came to giving her any details of the tasks he was made to fulfill during his Death Eater days. Defeated, the Ravenclaw was eventually forced to change the subject to something a little bit less touchy.
"So ... what about your father?" she tried, determined to get some answers at least here. "Did he ever find out what you've done?"
For some reason, Snape took a little longer than usual to reply, but eventually said: "I suppose he might have had a suspicion ... but nothing more, I believe. And before you ask, Miss Woodhouse – yes, he is already dead," he added with a smirk.
Elizabeth couldn't help but smile; Snape had really guessed the question that was on the tip of her tongue quite correctly. She didn't let it disconcert her, however, managing to come up with a new question almost instantly. "All right, so ... what had happened to him?"
"The Dark Lord ordered to have him killed," said Snape coolly, sounding as though he were talking about the weather. Elizabeth, however, couldn't help but notice just the tiniest hint of emotion in his voice, almost as though his father's death hadn't affected him nearly as little as he was trying to make her believe. "Allegedly, he started meddling in his affairs more than he could allow."
"Oh," was the only reaction Elizabeth managed to come up with, unable to think of anything else to say. Maybe it was time to change the subject again, seeing that Snape was apparently unwilling to discuss the current one any further. And to tell the truth, she didn't really blame him, because although he might have wished his father nothing but the worst for all that he's had to endure from him, a death that was somehow connected with Voldemort was too cruel for anybody to experience, least of all one's father. For however unpleasant the man might have been, Snape was, after all, still his son. "Was that the reason for your eventual transition to the side of the Light?" she asked finally, immediately giving herself a mental slap when she realized that she hadn't really changed the subject much at all.
Snape, however, seemed quite happy to answer, albeit only after another momentary hesitation. Was there perhaps something he wasn't telling her?
"It was one of the reasons, yes. There were, of course, countless others – some more significant and some less – but all of them have somehow contributed to my eventual decision to leave the Dark Lord's services and confess everything to Dumbledore, who, as I'm sure you already know, gave me a choice similar to that of Mr Longbottom."
"And you chose the spying."
"Naturally."
"Naturally?" queried Elizabeth, puzzled. "But ... if you had to pretend that you were still a Death Eater, not much had changed for you, had it? I mean, you couldn't suddenly stop participating in all the Dark raids and stuff-"
"It is obvious that you have never been to Azkaban, Miss Woodhouse," Snape cut in unexpectedly. "Because if you have, I am sure you would know that even serving under the Dark Lord can often prove much more pleasant than spending as short a time as a couple of days in one of its many cells. For that is exactly how long I have stayed in the wizard prison myself, before my trial, and I would certainly never like to repeat that ordeal again." He paused for a moment, apparently to rid his mind of the memory, before continuing. "Furthermore, you probably have not realized that the Dark Lord's fall had taken place not more than a couple of months after my confession, which means that I only had to keep up my pretence for that short period of time. For once the Dark Lord had been dispatched, many of the Death Eaters began to care mainly about saving their own skin, and as such took no particular interest in continuing their previous activities. Therefore I could easily stop participating in 'all the Dark raids and stuff', as you had so interestingly put it, simply because there were none to attend. Even if that had not been the case, however, I would have maintained my position none the less. For although you obviously think otherwise, Miss Woodhouse, one thing concerning my further activities as a Dark Lord's servant most certainly had changed. In my mind, I no longer worked for the Dark Lord ... I worked against him. There was a slight chance that my efforts could eventually result in if not his direct downfall, then at least in some visible disruption of his plans. And that, Miss Woodhouse, was what had, albeit only seemingly, kept me in his ranks even after I had joined the side of the Light, despite the fact that I despised every minute of it."
"And yet, when Voldemort had reappeared at the end of my fourth year, you agreed to do it again," remarked Elizabeth admiringly and, seeing that besides a barely recognizable nod she didn't receive any other reaction, added: "But ... wasn't that way too risky? I heard that at your trial Dumbledore had stood up for you and told everyone that you were now on his side, so I can't see any reason why Voldemort would trust you after that. Wasn't it complete suicide going back to him?"
Snape shook his head. "Not necessarily. I had the trust of Lucius Malfoy, one of the Dark Lord's most faithful servants, who had always believed that my supposed transition to Dumbledore's side had been nothing more than an attempt to gain some information about Hogwarts for future use, and through him I had eventually won back the trust of even the Dark Lord himself."
"Lucius Malfoy," said Elizabeth thoughtfully. "Did he think of you as a friend?"
"Lucius Malfoy didn't think of anyone as a friend," said Snape darkly. "He did, however, take an immediate liking to me as soon as he first saw me ... perhaps he thought that later on I could be of use to him. And so, particularly in the beginning, he often helped me with my tasks, and even put in a word for me whenever the Dark Lord considered punishing me for an unsatisfactorily executed operation. He also, although for reasons we can only guess, went as far as coming to the parent/teacher evening last year and informing me that I no longer had his support, and that he would do everything in his power to make sure that my betrayal would not remain unpunished."
Elizabeth frowned – Lucius Malfoy sure seemed like a very strange person. No wonder that Draco had been so unhappy with a father like that... Getting this far, Elizabeth almost didn't resist the temptation to ask Snape about the boy as well, but since that would probably mean admitting that she had sneaked into his office in order to eavesdrop, she eventually decided to push Draco out of her mind and change the subject instead.
"Sir," she said glibly, "it had just occurred to me – what had become of the Dark Mark after Voldemort had been killed? Did it disappear?"
Snape's gaze momentarily strayed to his left forearm. "Yes," he replied, sounding – if that were possible – almost happy. "There is merely a small scar left now."
"Can I see?"
Snape sighed and reluctantly pulled up the sleeve of his robes, revealing an ugly grey spot on his skin, almost like a scorch mark.
Elizabeth regarded it with interest, then, after a while, glanced back up and asked: "How exactly was it used? Did it hurt when Voldemort was summoning you?"
"At first – no," said Snape, seizing the opportunity to pull his sleeve back down. "It was only when a Death Eater did not respond to the Dark Lord's call that the Mark began to burn more and more, until the person usually could not stand the pain any longer and, whether he wanted to or not, Apparated at the Dark Lord's side."
"But you didn't," Elizabeth pointed out. "There have been many Death Eater meetings after Neville had betrayed you, but you have managed to withstand the pain and not go to a single one. That's ... admirable."
"You are exaggerating, Miss Woodhouse," said Snape dismissively. "For your information – the pain doesn't last long ... only about an hour or so. In addition, at Hogwarts I could not have Dissaparated even if I had wanted to, so obviously that made it even easier to resist."
"Maybe, but you still have my admiration," stated Elizabeth firmly. "I, for example, would have most likely left the Hogwarts grounds and Disapparated straight away, despite the fact that a little pain usually causes me no trouble at all."
Snape eyed her thoughtfully for a while, then said: "Well, I am sure that a short training would soon fix that, Miss Woodhouse." He got to his feet. "Now, I believe that by this point we have already come to discuss much more than merely the details of my childhood, so I think it is time to end the conversation. Good day."
And with a swirl of his black robes, he swiftly departed, leaving Elizabeth to wonder whether she was just being stupid, or whether he had indeed meant the training comment as a compliment.
Elizabeth would never have thought that she would pray for her stay in the infirmary to somehow turn out to last forever, but she sure found herself harbouring that very wish now, having realized only too well that as soon as she'd leave her little hospital bed (a step that was, unfortunately, only three short days away now, no matter how much she tried to talk herself into thinking otherwise) and return to leading a normal life (however different from her previous one it might turn out to be), her current conversations with Snape would in all probability become history. It was almost certain that she would only get to see him during mealtimes and at staff meetings, after all, where even an exchange of a few words with him should be considered a great success.
'What do I care if all my wounds have now been reduced to mere scars?' she thought gloomily. 'What do I care if even those scars will be gone in a couple of days? One scar will always remain, incurable by even the most complex of potions – the scar on my heart. Snape will never love me, I know that now. He might, at the most, consider me as something of a friend, which is, of course, more than I had ever hoped for, but if he could only... No, I won't think about it. I just won't. I will simply try to make the best of those last three days, and see what happens then.'
And with that resolution, Elizabeth reached for the MP3 player she had asked Jane to bring her from her dormitory several days ago (having nearly exhausted even Snape's daily supply of books by then, and therefore needing something else to busy herself with), firmly stuffed the earphones into her ears, closed her eyes, and then simply let herself get lost in the music that her favourite CD, made up of a huge mixture of carefully selected songs, provided. It couldn't, of course, ever fully compensate for the complete oblivion that only her Animagus form could possibly bring her, but since Madam Pomfrey had made it quite clear that any such folly would severely violate the healing process, she was left to settle for the next best thing.
She might have eventually drifted off to sleep, she wasn't quite sure, but the fact was that when she opened her eyes again, Snape was sitting in his usual chair by her bed, watching her with amusement in his eyes.
"Awake at last, Miss Woodhouse?" he asked with a smirk.
"I ... yes, sir," Elizabeth managed to blurt out, quickly pulling the earphones out of her ears and pressing the 'pause' button. "Good day, sir."
Snape didn't respond, but watched her actions with curiosity – something Elizabeth found rather odd, seeing he had, despite its prominent position on the bedside table, never spared her MP3 player as much as a second glance before.
"You probably don't know what this is, do you, sir?" she asked tentatively, pointing to the device now lying on her covers.
Snape smirked again. "No, Miss Woodhouse, indeed I don't. Something of Muggle origin, I presume?"
Elizabeth nodded. "That's right. It's called an MP3 player, and it's used for listening to music. Something like a radio, let's say, if you know what that is."
"I have heard of the term, yes. However, I was under the impression that such devices do not work at Hogwarts."
"That's true," smiled Elizabeth. "But my grandmother has put some kind of spell on it to eliminate that little inconvenience." She smiled again, a rather wicked smile this time, as a sudden idea forced its way into her mind. "Would you like to have a listen, sir?" she asked, trying not to sound too eager.
Snape threw the MP3 player a disdainful look, then firmly shook his head. "No, Miss Woodhouse, I believe I will give it a miss, thank you."
Elizabeth, however, wouldn't have it. "Please, sir," she begged. "How can you possibly say 'no' when you haven't even tried it?"
With an ostentatious sigh and another, this time somewhat suspicious, look in the MP3 player's direction, Snape finally resigned. "Well, if you insist..."
Elizabeth had to do her best not to burst out laughing, finding even the mere thought of what Snape had just agreed to do absolutely hilarious. Not to mention the song she was going to play him... As it was, however, she only gave the Potions master a small smile and cheerfully handed him the earphones, explaining what he should do with them as she did so. Then, at last, she pressed the 'play' button ... and almost didn't manage to hold her laughter in this time as she imagined just what Snape was most likely to think of Marilyn Manson's This Is the New Shit – the one song she had previously paused.
Unsurprisingly, the Potions master's expression said it all: Elizabeth strongly doubted that even Joshua and Jamie's potions had ever caused him to look more disgusted, and so it didn't take long before the earphones eventually found their way back into her lap, accompanied by a rather cold "I believe I have heard enough, Miss Woodhouse."
"What, don't you like Marilyn Manson?" asked Elizabeth, pretending to look offended.
"I presume you mean the madman I have just been unfortunate enough to listen to?"
Elizabeth snickered. "The very one."
"Well, in that case the answer is no, Miss Woodhouse, I most certainly do not like Marilyn Manson," said Snape, once again succeeding in making a mere name sound like a piece of filth. "But each to their own."
"All right, so what kind of music do you like, sir?" asked Elizabeth, the curiosity in her voice only too evident.
Snape's answer, however, turned out to be deeply disappointing, albeit not exactly surprising. "None," he said, sounding as though it was the most natural thing in the world.
"None?" repeated Elizabeth, just to make sure. It was indeed hard to picture Snape grading papers while listening to his favourite tunes, but then again, coming to terms with the fact that someone could actually live without any music at all was probably even harder. "Don't you ever listen to anything?"
Snape looked rather amused by her incredulity. "Strange as it may seem to you, Miss Woodhouse – no, I do not. I find it a complete waste of time."
'You do, now, do you?' thought Elizabeth with a smirk. 'Well, then I suppose it's really no wonder that you're so uptight, Professor, because I'm sure that a bit of music would definitely help you loosen up a little. Which is why a bit of music is exactly what you'll get right now.'
"Well, maybe you just haven't come across anything worth listening to so far," she said determinedly. "But if you give me one more chance, I might be able to change that. I think I've got just the song-"
"No, Miss Woodhouse, I believe I have become acquainted with your taste in music quite well already," Snape cut in quickly, and would've most likely gone on to change the subject if Elizabeth hadn't pushed the earphones back into his hands with a look of such pleading that even a rock would've probably found it difficult to stay firm, let alone an ordinary human being. And since, despite popular opinion, Snape was as human as anyone else, only he usually did his best not to show it as much, he reluctantly took the offered earphones and once again planted them into his ears, patiently waiting for the Ravenclaw to play him whatever song she had picked for him this time. And, judging by the somewhat curious look he gave her as soon as she pressed the 'play' button, Let It Be by The Beatles probably hadn't been such a bad choice.
Elizabeth, however, wasn't as pleased with her success as she might've been. She couldn't help but feel that there was definitely something wrong with Snape today, seeing it usually required quite a bit more persuasion than a simple 'please' to convince him to do something he evidently didn't want to, and she didn't like it. It was all too easy, and she suddenly had the distinct impression that he was obeying her wishes only to hold something off ... something far from pleasant, no doubt.
Unfortunately for her, she didn't have to wait long to find out exactly what that 'something' was, for at that moment Snape, having actually listened to the whole song this time, silently (although with a small nod of appreciation) handed her back the earphones and rose to leave.
"There will be no need to continue your lessons with me from now on, Miss Woodhouse," he said, sounding as though nothing could please him more. "I have already told you everything you need to know as far as theory is concerned, the rest is up to you. There is only one more book I would advise you to read before you begin your career as a Potions teacher; I have left it on your bedside table. Now, if you will-"
"No, please wait, sir," pleaded Elizabeth, doing her best to control her temper. Why was Snape suddenly treating her like some toy that he could simply throw away when he was done playing with it? Had she been completely mistaken when she believed that he thought of her as a friend? How come he seemed to be acting almost kindly one minute, but was back to his usual cold self the next? "Even though our lessons are over, you can still come for a short chat, can't you?"
"I would hardly think that you would find my company desirable, Miss Woodhouse," said Snape testily, his expression distinctly spelling a silent 'and vice versa'. "Why don't you ask your friends to pay you a visit instead?"
He didn't say it, but the hidden message was once again only too clear.
'So that I would finally stop wasting your precious time?' Elizabeth finished inwardly, now controlling herself only with great difficulty. 'Is that what you meant to say? That all I am for you is a waste of time?'
She eventually managed to pull herself together, however, and, pretending she had missed any hidden messages altogether, said: "Because I want to talk to you, sir."
Snape raised an eyebrow. "Indeed? And why is that, Miss Woodhouse?"
Something in Elizabeth's mind snapped. "Because ... because I love you," she choked out, suddenly not caring whether Snape knew or not at all. Seeing that his dislike for her had apparently never completely disappeared, despite his confusingly decent behaviour for the last month or so, she might just as well tell him everything. "That was the reason why I was being so unnaturally polite ... that was why I asked you for a dance ... and the Valentine ... that was also from me."
She met Snape's gaze with defiance, determined to face whatever was to come. And that was when she saw it: hidden among a palette of other emotions (with surprise and disbelief being probably the most prominent) in the Potions master's obsidian eyes was the same undescribable look she had noticed on the night of her detention ... only now, thanks to her grandmother, she finally had a name for it.
Love.
It was only there for a short moment, before Snape's face quickly regained its usual air of coldness and indifference (and, in this case, also disgust), but Elizabeth was certain she hadn't imagined it. Or had she?
"You are evidently still unwell, Miss Woodhouse," said Snape impassively, looking as though her condition didn't bother him one bit. "I shall make sure that Madam Pomfrey gives you a Sleeping Draught at once." And before Elizabeth could put up any sort of protest, he was gone.
There was no time to ponder over what had happened, however, for, in compliance with Snape's words, Madam Pomfrey had indeed arrived almost immediately, and was now persistently attempting to force the aforementioned Sleeping Draught down Elizabeth's throat.
"But I'm perfectly all right, Madam Pomfrey!" protested the Ravenclaw, pushing the goblet away with disgust.
"Nonsense," said the mediwitch sternly. "Professor Snape has made it clear that some sleep would do you nothing but good."
"Well, Professor Snape is wrong!" yelled Elizabeth. "He just doesn't want to hear what I have to say to him, that's all. He didn't even come back with you, did he? He ran-"
"That is quite enough, Miss Woodhouse," said Madam Pomfrey uncompromisingly. "You are evidently distraught. Now, I suggest you take this potion-" she held it out in front of her "-without any further objections, or I shall have to consider keeping you here for an extra day or two."
Elizabeth was suddenly a picture of calmness, obediently accepting the offered goblet and downing its contents without another word.
"That's a good girl," said Madam Pomfrey delightedly and, taking the empty container from Elizabeth's hands, got up to leave.
Elizabeth, however, had decided to try one more thing. "Madam Pomfrey?" she asked timidly. "Do you think it would be possible to let me go a little earlier? I'm really feeling just fine, so I'm sure it wouldn't hurt if-"
"We will see," said Madam Pomfrey indefinitely. "For now, I would advise you to just enjoy a good night's rest and not let anything worry you." And with that, the mediwitch disappeared out of sight.
Elizabeth, on the other hand, fell back on her pillows, finally free to give her latest conversation with Snape some proper thought. She had no idea what to make of it, and she was slowly beginning to doubt that the supposed look of love in Snape's eyes hadn't been just a product of her vivid imagination. He had been so cold to her, after all, and she simply couldn't believe that a man in love would ever act that way. Or was it possible that it had all been nothing but simple pretence, just like her grandmother had suggested? But if so, why? Why would he suddenly be trying to make her believe that she meant nothing more to him than a splinter stuck in his thumb when they had been having a civil conversation about music only a few moments before? Not to mention the several weeks of civil conversations that preceded; did he really think she would forget? No, that was absurd. Snape probably despised her, just like he always had, and the reaction that followed her confession of love for him only proved it. Why would he pretend to look so horribly uninterested if he loved her too? Why would he run? Why on earth did she allow to get her hopes up only to have all that she had come to believe destroyed in the course of not more than a few short minutes?
Getting this far, Elizabeth simply couldn't keep her emotions bottled up any longer, and her eyes slowly filled with tears. She didn't care, and so she let them fall, pretending that all her love for Snape was going with them.
She didn't remember falling asleep, but she evidently must have, for the next thing she knew was that she had been jerked awake by the unmistakable sound of somebody's rapidly approaching footsteps, and that it was already morning. For a moment she naively hoped that her unexpected visitor might be Snape, but she soon saw that it was only Hermione.
"Morning," she mumbled sleepily as soon as her friend was within earshot, slowly lifting herself into a sitting position.
"Hi, Elizabeth," said Hermione, plopping down into one of the chairs next to Elizabeth's bed and breathing heavily. It was obvious that she had been running. "Sorry if I woke you, but we've just had Potions and I thought that since I have a free period now, I'd stop by and ask you..." She paused to take several deep breaths, then continued: "You see, Snape was absolutely horrible today ... worse than he's been in months ... taking points for no reason at all ... and, well, I thought that maybe you'd know why. It's just that I noticed his gaze wander over to your empty seat once or twice, so..." she trailed off, apparently out of breath again.
Elizabeth sighed, forcing back the tears that were threatening to fill her eyes once more. She wouldn't cry. Tears wouldn't solve anything. Hermione, on the other hand, was known for her ability to solve practically any kind of problem, and as such might provide some useful advice. She would tell her what had happened, and hope for the best.
Luckily for her, Hermione didn't fail.
"But Elizabeth!" she exclaimed as soon as the blond witch finished her rather gloomy narrative. "It's all so simple!"
"Please, Hermione, I'm in no mood for jokes."
"Neither am I," the Gryffindor assured her. "Can't you see, Elizabeth? He loves you! Or do you really need more clues than you already have?"
"As far as I know, I don't have any," said Elizabeth grumpily.
"Well, that's probably because you're looking at it all from the wrong point of view. If you take the fact that Snape loves you as a starting point, everything else will suddenly make sense."
"Oh, really? So why was he being nice to me for a whole month, and then suddenly started acting as though I had been nothing more than a waste of time for him all along?"
"I'd say that's perfectly understandable, actually," said Hermione, sounding more and more like her old know-it-all self. "After he had discovered that not even treating you like a piece of dirt would help him get rid of his feelings, he simply couldn't stand hurting you any longer, and so when he was suddenly forced to spend so much time with you every day, he thought that he might just as well start treating you like a normal person for once. I suppose it worked for a while, but then it started getting out of hand. You were becoming too close, and he couldn't allow that. That's why he decided to do what he did in the end – to make you believe that he didn't care for you at all so that you would leave him alone. Remember how you told me that he had even agreed to listen to your MP3 player before he finally got to saying what he had wanted to say all along? That's how much effect you have on him, Elizabeth, and I'm sure he must've suffered terribly when he eventually told you what he had to. And it's obvious that he's still suffering now."
For a short moment, Elizabeth was completely lost for words, her brain feverishly processing what Hermione had just said. True, now that everything had been properly explained to her, it really did make sense, and yet...
"But ... why did he turn me down even after he had learned that I feel the same for him as he does for me?" she peeped finally, unsuccessfully trying to do something about her violently shaking hands. "Wasn't that the main obstacle? Or do you think there are more? That he feels he's too old for me, for example?"
"Yes, Elizabeth, I'm afraid that's exactly the case," sighed Hermione. "Knowing him, he probably also thinks that he doesn't deserve to be happy with someone like you, and I wouldn't rule out even the possibility that he might still consider you as one of his students."
"But I'm not!" cried Elizabeth. "I will become a teacher in only two days!"
"I am aware of that," smiled Hermione. "But he apparently isn't, so maybe it would be a good idea to actually go and tell him."
Elizabeth looked at her hands, which were now trembling even more than before. "Yes, I know I probably should," she said quietly, more to herself than to her friend. "But do you think it'll do any good? He'll probably refuse to listen to me completely."
Hermione gave her a challenging look. "Well, you won't know until you try, will you?"
Elizabeth's last two days in the hospital wing turned out to be possibly the worst two days of her entire life. On one hand, she wanted her stay to come to an end as quickly as possible so that she could finally try and get the whole business with Snape over and done with, but on the other she was so afraid of his refusal that suddenly even the option of a lifelong confinement didn't seem so completely unappealing any more. One way or another, however, the fact was that she was scared stiff, and the nearer the time of her release from the infirmary drew, the more terrified she became. That's why she nearly suffered a nervous breakdown when Madam Pomfrey suddenly informed her that instead of the originally planned morning, she had, after giving her earlier request some thought, eventually decided to let her go some twelve hours earlier, having felt that maybe a free evening with her friends before her very first day of teaching was just what she needed to make her healing process complete. Needless to say, Elizabeth couldn't concentrate on practically anything from then on, even though she knew it would probably be wise to at least flip through the book (Anticipating Explosions) Snape had left with her during his last visit, but since even looking at it was enough to remind her of the unpleasant task ahead, she eventually gave up on it and settled instead for the simple and soothing activity of playing around with her make-up set, all the while mentally preparing herself for what was to come.
Several hours later it was indeed time to go, although Elizabeth was still feeling far from ready. She got up all the same, however, thanked Madam Pomfrey for her infinite patience with her, and then slowly began to make her way up to Ravenclaw Tower to dispose of all the things she had managed to accumulate next to her hospital bed during the past six weeks. She would've given anything for a quick chat with Jane before her eventual calvary down to the dungeons, but when she finally reached their dormitory (which, seeing that all of their former roommates had perished in battle, only the two of them now shared), it was empty, as was, except for a few first years playing chess by the fireplace, the Ravenclaw common room. Sighing, Elizabeth resignedly threw her stuff down on her bed, allowed herself a hasty look in the mirror, and then, at last, shakily set off to meet her fate.
When she eventually arrived in the coldness and darkness that made up the dungeons, all was quiet. She had no idea where Snape usually spent his evenings – he might even be patrolling the corridors, for all she knew – but she decided to try his office first, seeing it was probably the only place, apart from the classroom, where she could talk to him in private. Coming to a standstill in front of the heavy door, she raised a trembling hand and knocked, half-hoping that she'd get no answer.
No such luck: Snape's surly "Enter" was as clear as ever, causing Elizabeth's knees to almost give way and her already racing heart to speed up even more. She quickly recovered, however, and, with a deep breath, pushed open the door.
She didn't have to look twice for the man she had come to see; he was sitting at his desk only a few feet away from her, grading papers. He glanced up upon her entrance, however, and his eyes revealed a momentary flicker of surprise and emotion before he quickly arranged his face into a mask of pure irritation.
"Yes?" he asked, his voice at its coldest.
Elizabeth, having expected something like this, pretended to ignore it. Instead she crossed over to Snape's desk and, even though she most certainly hadn't been offered a seat, made herself comfortable in the chair opposite his own, her gaze never leaving the Professor's face as she did so.
"Sir, we need to talk," she stated determinedly.
Snape's eyes narrowed. "You and I have nothing to talk about, Miss Woodhouse," he snapped. "I distinctly remember telling you that our private lessons have come to an end, and any other business of yours does not concern me. So if you would kindly remove yourself from my office and stop wasting my time, I would be most grateful."
"And I would be most grateful if you kindly stopped calling me by my last name from now on," retorted Elizabeth, willing herself to stay calm. She wouldn't let him get to her so easily, she knew she'd lose everything if she did. Which, of course, was the last thing she wanted right now. "We're almost colleagues, after all, so I think Elizabeth would do just fine." Snape threw her a look full of contempt, but didn't say anything, and so Elizabeth quickly went on: "Now, although you obviously think otherwise, I believe that there really is something we should discuss..." She took a shaky breath, then looked Snape right in the eye. "Our feelings for each other."
Snape, however, seemed to be prepared for this. "Miss Woodhouse," he sneered, "I have no idea what you are trying to achieve by this pathetic charade of yours, but rest assured that-"
"No, sir, please listen," interrupted Elizabeth, raising her voice just a bit. "I've already told you what I feel for you, and, even though you might not have said it, I know you feel the same. You're acting as though you hate me, but don't you think you should stop now? Why torture yourself any longer? Why torture me? Why not stop all the pretences and let us be happy? I don't care if you're some twenty years older than me, I don't care what you've done in the past. I love you as you are, however imperfect you might be, and I'm prepared to fight for my love, too. And if you're the one who I have to fight against, so be it."
This time, Snape didn't react immediately. Instead he regarded her in a very unnerving fashion, almost like a snake deciding when to strike, making it absolutely impossible to tell what he was thinking. Did she manage to get her message across? Would it have the desired effect?
"You have no chance, Miss Woodhouse," he said finally, his voice, unlike Elizabeth's, not much more than a whisper now. "Whatever it is that you might feel-" (he practically spat the word) "-for me, and I very much doubt that it is what you claim it to be, I shall most certainly not encourage it. I do not know what had led you to believe that I might perhaps share those ... feelings of yours, nor do I care, but I can assure you that such a presumption is absolutely preposterous. You know nothing of my feelings, Miss Woodhouse, and I doubt you ever will. Now-"
But Elizabeth had heard enough; she knew she had to say something before it was far too late. "That is not true, sir, and you know it as well as I do," she said firmly. "You said you don't care how I came to the conclusion that you feel the same as I do – and, believe me, what I feel for you really is love, even though you obviously find it somewhat difficult to accept – but I'll tell you anyway. For one thing, there was your strange behaviour at my detention just before the summer holidays. I won't bore you with my assumptions about why exactly you had told me to leave so suddenly, as I'm sure you know what you had felt much better than I do; let's just say that my presence was beginning to make you rather uncomfortable. Then, of course, there were our daily private lessons in the hospital wing. Why did you bother to lead all those subject-unrelated conversations with me, when in the end you all but told me that all along those visits had been nothing more than a waste of time for you? Weren't you perhaps afraid that if you didn't end it all the way you did, it would eventually get out of hand?" She paused, gathering strength for what she hoped to be the final blow. One never knew with Snape, after all. "But – even if none of this had happened, there was always the one thing that had caused me to suspect that something peculiar was going on in the first place ... your eyes. I couldn't quite name the emotion that I had seen in them at first, but now I know only too well what it was. It was love, sir."
She finished, and was now looking at Snape with unconcealed expectancy. Snape glared back at her, but his expression was, as usual, unfathomable.
"And has it never occurred to you, Miss Woodhouse, that perhaps your supposed observations had been nothing more than a product of your evidently wild imagination?" he asked at last, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "That you merely saw what you wished to see?"
Elizabeth sighed; she should've known that Snape wouldn't give in so easily. She really didn't want it to come to this, but it seemed that she had no choice. "No, as a matter of fact it hasn't," she said scathingly. "But maybe if I heard you say that you don't love me directly, rather than cleverly avoiding it like you've been doing so far, I would actually begin to consider it a possibility. All you have to do is look into my eyes and tell me that I mean absolutely nothing to you. In that case I promise to go away and never bother you again."
Snape looked at her sharply, and, even though his expression still gave nothing away, Elizabeth could virtually feel the alarm that her words had evoked. There was evidently a huge battle going on in his mind ... a battle that would decide everything. Was it possible that he would actually lie to her? She was, of course, convinced that he would not, but...
"And what difference would my doing such a thing make, Miss Woodhouse?" he asked suddenly, having evidently reached a conclusion of some kind at last. The irritated tone he used, however, clearly indicated that he definitely wasn't too happy about it. "Do you not realize that a relationship between the two of us is strictly out of the question? Or have you decided to simply ignore all the potential consequences, naively hoping that I would do the same?"
Despite these harsh words, Elizabeth couldn't help but smile. Snape hadn't managed to tell her what she had asked him to, after all, which could only mean one thing – that it wasn't true. She didn't need any more proof than that to convince her once and for all that he did, in fact, love her, and while she knew that there was still a long way ahead of her, at least she had something definite to build on now, which immediately caused her mind to regain some of its lost optimism.
"What consequences?" she asked airily. "You mean like what would happen if somebody actually found out about us?"
Snape looked scandalized at the mere thought. "For instance, yes."
"Well, then I suppose it would be a good idea to make sure that nobody does find out, wouldn't it?" said Elizabeth sweetly. "You've already proved that you can pretend to hate me quite convincingly, so if you simply maintain that act in public, nobody will suspect a thing. I, of course, will keep up my own disguise as well."
"I am not entirely certain that you would be able to, Miss Woodhouse," said Snape doubtfully. "You are not trained to hide your emotions like I am. Sooner or later you would give yourself away, and-"
"Oh, you really think so?" asked Elizabeth fiercely. "Have you already forgotten that it was you who had slipped, and not me? If I hadn't told you how I feel about you, you would never have found out! Speaking of which, why is it so important for you to keep the relationship a secret? Who cares if the whole school knows? Let me remind you that I am not your student any more, if that's what's bothering you, and, as far as I know, a relationship between two teachers is perfectly tolerable."
"Until you receive your graduation certificate, you are still a student of this school, Miss Woodhouse," said Snape tensely, "even if you do not attend your classes any longer."
"Then we can just hide our relationship until graduation," said Elizabeth confidently.
Snape threw her an almost pitying look. "It is not that simple, Miss Woodhouse," he said wearily. "I assure you that there are more hindrances to this entire matter than you can possibly imagine."
"Well, perhaps if you actually told me what these hindrances are, I might be able to come up with a way to eliminate them," retorted Elizabeth.
Snape let out a sigh of exasperation, evidently reluctant to do as he was asked. Elizabeth's unwavering stare, however, full of eagerness and expectation, eventually caused him to give in.
"The age difference," he said curtly.
Elizabeth resisted the urge to roll her eyes. "I've already told you that I don't care about that in the least," she said firmly. "True, it might appear rather striking now, but what will it matter in some fifty years or so? I doubt anybody will give it as much as a second thought then."
Judging by the momentary flicker of amusement in Snape's eyes, her words had obviously had a positive effect. Maybe the man had even realized that there was actually a great deal of sense in what she was saying, it was hard to tell, mainly because his face had regained its usual serious expression almost immediately, causing Elizabeth to wonder whether it hadn't, in fact, been there all along. Upon closer inspection, however, she discovered that 'serious' probably wasn't the right word to describe Snape's current appearance. To her great disconcertion, he suddenly looked almost ... haunted – something she didn't like at all. And rightly so.
"There will be no 'then', Miss Woodhouse," he said quietly. "I have done nothing to deserve a happy life. The mistakes I have made in the past are-"
"Please, Professor, we've been over this already," said Elizabeth hotly. "I know you have probably done some horrible things while in Voldemort's services, even though you strictly refused to tell me about them, but I think you've done enough to atone for each and every one of them at least twice. You've continually put your life at risk by spying on Voldemort, you've managed to put up with a bunch of insufferable children for more than fifteen years, you've completely shut yourself off from the outside world, thus depriving your life of everything worth living for ... don't you think the time has come for you to stop dwelling on what had been, and to actually start concentrating on what lies ahead of you once again? I would help you as best I can, of course, but you'd have to let me. If you would only co-operate a little more..."
"I do not want your help, Miss Woodhouse," said Snape darkly. "And I am certain that were you to know the exact nature of all the atrocious deeds I have come to accomplish during my Death Eater days, you would never have made such an inane offer to begin with. You would have run away in fright and disgust, determined to carefully avoid all unnecessary contact with me in the future."
A wave of pity rushed through Elizabeth's mind at those words; she simply couldn't believe how one person could possibly manage to harbour as much self-loathing as she had just seen Snape display. Well, there was only one thing left for her to do.
"How can you be so sure?" she asked incredulously. "I've already told you that I'm not as weak as you might think, so who knows – I might turn out to fail your expectations altogether, and actually succeed in doing the exact opposite of what you had just predicted. But since we won't know unless we try, I suggest you stop being so secretive for once and actually – just this one time – tell me all about those 'atrocious deeds' of yours, leaving nothing out and concentrating on even the tiniest of details. Then we can continue our present conversation."
Snape, however, determinedly shook his head. "No, Miss Woodhouse. I have no right to put you through something as direful as that, and, were you wise, you would not even ask me to."
Elizabeth knew she couldn't take much more of this. Convincing Snape to finally give in was something she wished for more than anything in the world, but she was slowly running out of arguments. What could she possibly say to make him talk?
"I might not be wise," she said slowly, as though weighing every word, "but I do have some common sense. And my common sense is telling me that unless you agree to do what I'm asking of you, our little problem will most likely never be solved. And since the only reason why I have come here was to have that very problem taken care of, I will not leave this room until we do just that. So, unless you decide to change your mind, I suggest you prepare yourself for a long night, Professor."
Snape reacted by throwing her one of his patented death glares, but Elizabeth could see that inwardly he was already giving her words a great amount of thought. She could only hope that he would reach some kind of conclusion soon, seeing the silence, as well as the incredible tension that ominously hung in the air, were slowly beginning to drive her mad. Just when she thought she wouldn't be able to stand it all any longer, however, Snape stood up.
"Wait here," he ordered and, leaving Elizabeth no time to ask what was going on, silently disappeared through the office door and into the corridor outside.
Fifteen minutes later, however, he was back, and although Elizabeth had nearly died of anxiety during the time of his absence, all her troubled thoughts were quickly overcome by curiosity as she closely examined the strange object that he had brought with him. It was a shallow stone basin, bearing some kind of inscriptions around the edge and containing an odd, translucent substance that kept swirling round and round while giving off a faint, silvery light.
"Do you know what this is, Miss Woodhouse?" Snape asked as he carefully placed the entrancing basin on his desk and sat down.
Elizabeth merely shook her head.
"It is called a Pensieve," Snape enlightened her. "People generally use it for sorting out their thoughts and memories whenever they feel that their mind is too overloaded to manage on its own." He smirked, obviously finding such an activity utterly contemptible. "I, however, have decided to employ the Pensieve for an entirely different reason. You have asked me to tell you about my Death Eater days, which I will not, but I am certain that you will find a journey through my memories just as satisfying."
For once, Elizabeth was lost for words, and as such could only watch as Snape suddenly drew out his wand and placed its tip near his temple. When, a few seconds later, he finally took the wand away, a silver strand was clinging to it, which he quickly deposited into the Pensieve. This process was repeated several times, until Snape eventually shoved the Pensieve under Elizabeth's nose and told her to look in. Wondering what on earth she was getting herself into, the Ravenclaw gingerly obeyed.
At first she could see nothing but the silvery substance, but then the vapour cleared and she was suddenly looking, as if from somewhere up in the sky, at some crepuscular forest clearing where a small group of people, generally dressed in Death Eater robes, stood gathered around a tall man clad all in black. He looked a little different than when Elizabeth had watched him fighting Snape during the battle for Hogwarts, but there was certainly no mistaking him for anyone else – it was none other than Lord Voldemort.
"I believe we have got some newcomers today," he hissed, and the Death Eaters immediately parted to reveal four uncertain-looking young men, one of whom Elizabeth instantly recognized as Snape. He, as well as his three companions, was wearing only plain black robes, and Elizabeth was suddenly certain that what she was looking at was in all probability the gruesome entrance ceremony Snape had refused to tell her about earlier.
"So, you have decided to join me?" Voldemort asked, sounding both pleased and amused at the same time.
"Yes, my Lord," said the four men together.
"Well," drawled Voldemort, "then I'm sure you are all prepared for a little ... test."
Elizabeth didn't like the sound of that at all, and, judging by the worried looks the four would-be Death Eaters shared, it definitely looked as though she wasn't the only one. Voldemort, however, took no notice of it; instead he turned to Snape and, with a nasty smile, asked him to state his name.
"Severus Snape, my Lord," said Snape calmly, raising his eyes to meet the Dark Lord's intense gaze without the slightest hint of hesitation.
"Severus, you say?" repeated Voldemort thoughtfully, his unpleasant smile growing even wider. And then, all of a sudden, a wand appeared in his hand, pointed straight at Snape's chest, and a moment later, Snape collapsed to the ground, his body twitching with pain. Voldemort looked on in amusement, the echo of his Cruciatus curse still ringing through the air.
Elizabeth, who was suffering almost as much as Snape just by watching him, felt like shutting her eyes and never opening them again, but somehow she couldn't. And so, despite her somewhat blurry vision, she simply continued staring at the horrible scene before her until, after what seemed like hours to her, Voldemort finally decided he'd had enough and, with a wave of his wand, lazily ended the curse. Curiously enough, Snape, albeit rather shakily, picked himself up from the ground almost immediately, looking very much as though he found the Cruciatus curse about as painful as a mosquito bite.
"Very good, Severus," cooed Voldemort, eyeing his would-be recruit with obvious approval. "I see that you can withstand pain well." And, turning towards the other three novices, he added: "Let us only hope that your friends will prove to be equally resistant. 'Crucio'!"
This time it was the man on Snape's left who found himself writhing with pain, but neither he, nor his two companions were able to control themselves even half as well as Snape had done, and as such could be heard screaming and begging for mercy only a couple of seconds after Voldemort had begun to torture them. Unsurprisingly, this only prolonged their suffering, leaving them all barely alive by the time it was finally over.
"I am disappointed," declared Voldemort moodily, regarding the three bodies at his feet with distaste. "I shall, however, give you a second chance." He smiled his nasty smile again, and Elizabeth could only guess what sort of horror he had in mind this time. "True, you might not have shown much worthiness when being tortured yourselves, but perhaps you will find torturing others more to your liking?" And with that, he turned to a small group of Death Eaters who stood somewhat separated from the rest of their comrades, evidently awaiting this particular moment all along. "Bring the Muggles," he barked.
"Yes, master," nodded one of the Death Eaters, and a moment later they all disappeared towards the edge of the clearing. They were back in a matter of seconds, however, each of them dragging the limp form of what appeared to be a member of the same Muggle family. The mother and father were both badly bruised, but their two children, a boy and a girl of about eight, seemed, apart from the fact that they were obviously under the effect of the 'Petrificus Totalus', quite unharmed.
The Death Eaters dropped their burdens in front of Snape and his friends (who had meanwhile managed, although with great difficulty, to will themselves to stand up) and then stepped back, quietly looking on as Voldemort took the floor once again.
"Your task is easy this time," he drawled. "Torture these filthy Muggles-" he threw the four motionless people lying on the ground a disgusted look "-in any way you please, whether it is with or without magic depends on you. Of course, the longer you keep them alive, the better, but I don't think I really need to tell you that, am I right?"
The four young men all nodded mutely, and Voldemort then assigned each of them the one member of the unfortunate family whom they'd have to torture. Snape ended up with the little girl, and Elizabeth suddenly found herself foolishly hoping that the sight of such a helpless creature might perhaps cause his conscience to finally make itself heard, forcing the man to stop this whole Death Eater nonsense before it was far too late.
He didn't. In fact, he didn't even bat an eyelash as the girl, now relieved of the 'Petrificus Totalus', started crying for her mother; instead he calmly exposed her to some truly horrific Dark spell and, with a frighteningly disinterested expression on his face, watched her suffer. Then, just when Elizabeth thought that the girl's screams couldn't possibly get any louder, he suddenly changed the spell into a different one, apparently causing some sort of imaginary itching, seeing the girl was now scratching herself so vehemently that in many places she had begun to bleed. Snape evidently didn't care, however, continuing to vary his spells and curses with alarming frequency and not letting even the fact that the girl had eventually fainted put him off. He simply brought her to again, and then carried on as if nothing had happened.
Elizabeth was in a state of shock. She had no idea how the other three men were doing; her eyes were firmly fixed on Snape and the little girl and, no matter how much she tried, she simply couldn't bring herself to look anywhere else. Was she really watching the same man she had fallen in love with? Could he really have changed so much? From this cruel, heartless being into the lonely, indrawn person whom she had come to know and admire? Could every one of his victims have contributed to that?
Apparently not, seeing that when his very first victim, the little girl, eventually passed away, Snape looked almost ... proud of himself, unconcernedly moving on to the next set of tests (mostly concerning the group's combat skills this time) as if her death had meant about as much to him as the death of an annoying insect.
After he had accepted the Dark Mark, however, his memories in the Pensieve suddenly became nothing more than a bunch of blurry images, and that was when Elizabeth began to observe the first changes. True, he still killed, tortured, and even brewed a variety of highly dangerous potions, some of which could've easily blown up an entire house, but even though Elizabeth couldn't see his face, since it was usually hidden behind his Death Eater mask, she could virtually feel the steadily growing reluctancy to accomplish what was being asked of him. Every time, the hesitation before the eventual killing was a little clearer ... every time, the unearthly screams of his tortured victims were cut off a little sooner ... every time...
And then, as unexpectedly as they had appeared, the images suddenly faded away and were replaced instead by another continuous scene, this time set in a dark, mouldy-looking cellar. In contrast to the previous Death Eater meeting, however, here only five people were present: one of them was, of course, none other than Snape, standing in the very centre of the room with his wand pointed at a black-haired wizard who, having evidently just received his fair share of torture, now lay face down on the cold stone floor, bleeding and gasping. Two more Death Eaters, both standing in the background and watching quietly, and an impatient-looking Lord Voldemort completed the scene.
Elizabeth, however, was absolutely perplexed. Of all the murders and tortures he'd accomplished, why on earth did Snape choose to show her this particular one in detail? Who was the man on the floor? Why was he so important?
Well, it didn't take long for her to find out, for at that very moment, the man used his last remains of strength to raise his head from the floor so that he could face his attacker ... and Elizabeth almost died of shock when she suddenly found herself looking into the eyes of ... Snape?
No, it couldn't be. Snape was, after all, standing right above this strange man, pointing his wand straight at his head and willing himself to say the fatal words. Besides, this man was definitely older than Snape. True, his eyes were of the same obsidian colour as Snape's, and the hooked nose, despite the fact that it was evidently broken, also looked familiar, but other than that, there were no similarities to speak of. For one thing, the man's hair, now matted with blood, was much longer than Snape's, although just as greasy. Secondly, his features betrayed a strong, despotic personality, determined to-
Getting this far, Elizabeth suddenly knew exactly who she was looking at, and, truth be told, she was shocked beyond words. Yes, Snape had told her that his father – for that was indeed the mysterious man's identity – had been killed at Voldemort's bidding, but he somehow neglected to tell her that he himself was the one who had performed the deadly curse.
There was no time to dissect this appalling revelation any further, however, for at that moment, Voldemort, obviously tired of the unnecessary protraction, decided to leave his present place by the wall and personally take charge.
"Well? What is taking you so long?" he hissed, eyeing Snape with an air of suspicion as he crossed over to stand by his side. "Finish him off!"
"Of course, my Lord," nodded Snape, his voice slightly muffled by his Death Eater mask but otherwise sounding very much the same as it always did. Elizabeth, however, was quite sure that it was all only simple pretence; Snape's inner feelings were most likely the exact opposite of what he allowed Voldemort to see. Then again, what did it matter when he still did as he was told? It only took two simple words, after all...
"Avada Kedavra!"
And that was the end. No more images, no more scenes. She was once again sitting in Snape's office, her eyes were, for reasons unknown, filled with tears, and the man whom she had just seen murder his father was dolefully regarding her from across his desk, looking almost as though he was on the verge of tears himself.
"I hope you are satisfied now, Miss Woodhouse," he said bitterly, getting hold of the Pensieve and placing his memories back inside his head.
Elizabeth didn't reply, seeing as she was too busy sorting out her slightly confused thoughts. It was only natural after all the horrors she'd just seen, after all.
Snape, however, interpreted her silence somewhat differently. "Well?" he demanded. "What are you waiting for? Surely you don't need my permission to leave?"
Wiping the tears from her eyes with a swift gesture, Elizabeth finally decided to grace him with her attention. "No, of course I don't," she confirmed, and then, after a brief pause, slowly added: "Mainly because I'm not leaving."
Snape let out a sigh of exasperation. "Miss Woodhouse, there is no need to be considerate. If you want to leave, which, under the circumstances, would be the wisest thing you could possibly do, just do so. It would be nothing I had not expected."
"I'm not being considerate, sir," said Elizabeth resolutely. "It's true that what I have seen in the Pensieve is definitely nothing to be proud of, but I assure you that I can deal with it. You have realized your mistake, after all, and that's all that matters. In fact, I think you could even say that the experience, no matter how horrible it had been, had made you become a better person ... a person who deserves nothing but love and admiration. Both of which – and more – I'd still be delighted to give you."
The intensity with which Snape was regarding her was truly unnerving. It seemed that while one part of him was craving to accept her offer straight away, another part, unfortunately the stronger one at the moment, was very much against it. That's why the Potions master's eventual reaction didn't turn out to be nearly as surprising as it could've been.
"You say that now, Miss Woodhouse," he said, sounding even more pessimistic than before, "and perhaps you even mean it, but with time you will realize just how foolish your words had been. Even if I were to become somehow ... involved with you, I am certain that it would not take long before you would come to regret it. You would suddenly realize that while you have buried yourself in a thriveless relationship with a man who could easily be your father, all your friends are meanwhile still enjoying their freedom, carelessly making use of all the possibilities that a teenage life has to offer." He gave Elizabeth a deep, searching look, and then added: "I would hardly think that that is what you really want, Miss Woodhouse."
Elizabeth met Snape's gaze with defiance. "Believe it or not, Professor – it is," she declared, making a short pause (mainly to prevent herself from saying anything rash) before continuing. "You seem to be suggesting that I'll eventually get tired of you, but I sincerely doubt that. You might not know it, but I have loved you for almost two years now, and even though most of the time your behaviour towards me had been absolutely horrible, my feelings have never faltered. And, especially if you give me the chance to express them fully, I see no reason why they should do so in the future."
Glancing over at Snape, she saw that he was somewhat stunned by her statement about the duration of her love; obviously he hadn't imagined that he had been the object of her attraction for quite as long as that. She decided to use his silence to her advantage, however, and quickly resumed her monologue, hoping against hope that maybe she would actually manage to say something that would make him change his mind at last.
"You are afraid that I might eventually break up with you and leave you with a broken heart, aren't you, sir?" she asked softly. "Well, I can understand that, but don't you think you're being a little selfish? If you send me away now, you are most likely going to suffer anyway, but in addition you'll be dragging me down as well. Have you thought about that at all? Because, Professor, this is no longer about you alone, this is about us. I know you have spent your whole life rejecting everybody who as much as attempted to get close to you, and I know that so far it had worked, but I assure you that this time it's different. Have you realized that this time, you're not the only one who's putting their feelings at risk? That there's somebody else doing the same?"
Suddenly appearing somewhat tired, Snape looked at her and nodded. "Yes, Miss Woodhouse, I assure you that I have realized that fact only too well. Which is exactly why I am telling you to give the entire matter up ... for your own good. You are still young, you will recover soon enough. Go and find yourself a proper boyfriend, Miss Woodhouse, and forget about me. It will be better for the both of us."
Elizabeth was close to tears by now; this wasn't going well at all. But she wouldn't give up ... not yet, anyway.
"Better?" she repeated mockingly. "Or simply more comfortable?" And since Snape didn't look like he would even bother to comment that remark, she quickly went on: "Anyway, I'm not interested in finding myself a proper boyfriend, as you had so tensely put it. I've never cared about boys my age; I think they're all a bunch of immature idiots. You, on the other hand, are everything a girl like me could possibly wish for."
"Indeed?" said Snape sceptically. "And what, pray tell, is it that you would see in me, Miss Woodhouse?"
"You really don't know?" asked Elizabeth, even though she could easily guess the answer beforehand.
"No, Miss Woodhouse, please enlighten me."
Elizabeth paused on. "Well ... it's kind of hard to put into words..." she said slowly, "but I'll try." She gave Snape a thoughtful look, as if searching for inspiration, before continuing. "Firstly, I admire your exceptional intelligence and logical mind; sometimes it's almost scary how you can figure things out. Secondly, I think you have an incredible sense of honour and loyalty, examples of which you have definitely shown on more than one occasion. Thirdly, I'd say that you must be terribly brave, because otherwise you would never have dared to go back to Voldemort so that you could spy on him." She sighed. Telling Snape that she loved him was one thing, but telling him why she loved him was a different matter altogether. But since he had asked for it... "I also love talking to you. True, most people probably wouldn't consider you an entertaining companion, but to me you are like a best friend – I could talk to you for days and days and still not get tired of it. Your voice is absolutely heavenly, too, by the way, even though you probably don't realize it. Well, and lastly ... lastly I find you immensely attractive. Not handsome, because you're not, but there's definitely something about you ... I don't know how to say it... Perhaps it's your slightly mysterious appearance, or the graceful way you move about, or your billowing black robes, or perhaps all of it, I really don't know ... but the point is that I simply can't stop looking at you. Especially your eyes, they're so beautiful..." She gave Snape an apologetic smile. "I know I didn't express it too well, and there are probably quite a lot of things I haven't mentioned, too, but that's all I can think of at the moment..."
Snape, however, apparently seemed to be of the opinion that she had said more than enough, judging by the look of utter disbelief that he was giving her. And not only disbelief, she noticed presently, there was also confusion, surprise, doubt...
And then, without a single word, he suddenly got up from his chair and, in one swift movement, turned away from her, folding his arms across his chest and seemingly abandoning all signs of life as he lost himself in thought. It would've been quite easy to mistake him for a statue at that moment, actually.
Elizabeth watched his rigid figure with hope. Was it possible that not everything had been lost yet? That she had finally managed to knock some sense into him? That, after he would finish sorting his thoughts out, he would actually say 'yes' at last? That he would-
She never got any further with her musings, however, for at that moment, Snape spun around so quickly that she almost fell off her chair in shock.
"This is absurd," he spat, fixing her with an indignant gaze. "I see absolutely no reason why we should continue this conversation any farther; there is nothing more to be said. Once again I am asking you to leave my office, Miss Woodhouse, and this time I expect you to obey."
Elizabeth felt as if somebody had slapped her. So much for her hopes, which Snape, as only he could, had managed to disperse with only a few short sentences. Now she could no longer hold back her tears, and she soon felt them burning her cheeks before they dropped down onto the cold dungeon floor. Cold as the man who lived there.
Shakily, she stood up, unable to think of anything more to say. Could that mean that Snape had been right? That there really was nothing left to be said? That it was all over?
'No!' something in her mind screamed. 'You can't give up now! You're so close! Can't you see that he's ready to break? That the part of him that wants to give in is clearly taking over now? All you have to do is find a name for it and give it a little push!'
And so Elizabeth did. "Nothing more to be said?" she asked quietly, looking almost menacing as she moved over to stand right in front of Snape. "Says who? Says your mind? Well, that's great, but don't you think that sometimes, like now, it would be much better if you actually listened to your heart?"
"Miss Woodhouse, I believe I told you to leave," said Snape, but he didn't sound nearly as convincing as before.
"And I told you to use your heart," snapped Elizabeth, her tears now long forgotten. "If you actually have one, that is," she added bitterly.
Snape threw her one of the darkest glares he was capable of, obviously hoping to compel her to go away with the mere power of his gaze, but with no success: Elizabeth firmly stood her ground, glaring right back at him and looking like she wasn't about to leave any time soon. Eventually, with an irritated sigh, Snape was forced to resign.
"If I had used my heart, Miss Woodhouse, I would have been dead long ago," he said testily.
"Well, with the sort of life you're leading, I don't really think it would've made that much of a difference," retorted Elizabeth, immediately giving herself a huge mental slap as she realized what exactly it was that she had said. She had never meant to be so cruel, of course, but since there was obviously no decent way (seeing that 'Obliviate' definitely did not count as an option) of taking her words back, she could do nothing but grit her teeth and simply hope for the best ... or, better said, for the worst. And perhaps it would also be a good idea to apologize...
Glancing up at Snape, however, all such thoughts quickly left her mind, as from the way he was looking at her it was quite clear that any attempts at an apology would be entirely useless. She had never seen so much reproach in anyone's expression before, and she honestly didn't care to endure the experience again.
To her great surprise, however, the longer she looked into Snape's eyes, the more his gaze softened: slowly, reproach gave way to thoughtfulness, thoughtfulness gave way to ... well, Elizabeth didn't exactly know what, but she was sure that if he continued looking at her that way just a little while longer, she would stop controlling herself and she would...
And then it happened. Without knowing how or why, Elizabeth's arms suddenly found themselves wrapped around Snape's neck and tangled in his hair, while Snape himself tentatively put his own arms around her waist. For a while, they just stood like that, gazing into each other's eyes and simply enjoying the close contact that they had created, before, eventually, they leaned in and, ever so slowly, sought each other's lips.
Elizabeth felt like the whole world had come to a standstill. She knew nothing of her surroundings, she knew nothing of anything; all she was aware of was that kissing Snape was the most wonderful thing she had experienced so far. True, she had already done it hundreds of times in her imagination, but now she knew that she had never even come close to the real thing. If she had to find a comparison, then she would probably say that the kiss was a bit like a wild roller coaster ride – it gave her a feeling of sensation, it caused her stomach to do flip-flops, it left her feeling dizzy at the end, and, of course, it was much too short.
Both slightly out of breath after the passionate frenzy they had just undergone, Elizabeth and Snape once again found themselves staring into each other's – now somewhat glazy – eyes.
"Well, I certainly hope that your demand concerning the use of my heart has now been met, Elizabeth," said Snape with a slight smile, absently brushing away a strand of hair that had fallen into his face during the kiss.
Elizabeth gave him a dazzling smile of her own. "Oh, definitely." And then, with a fake pleading look, she added: "By the way, do you think I could also call you by your first name from now on?"
Snape merely nodded, before being uncompromisingly swept into yet another breathtaking kiss.
A/N: If I were Dr Jekyll and Elizabeth was my Mr Hyde, I think my transformation would by now be complete :) Anyway, I apologize for the terribly long time it has taken me to update, but I got stuck with a dialogue and I also had to concentrate on my exams at school for a while. Hopefully the next chapter won't take so long to get out, though.
And for those of you who have found a small mistake in this chapter (Manson's 'This Is the New Shit' was indeed released later than at the time of this story), I know about it, but I can't think of any way to change it, so I'll just leave it as it is. By the way, I am a great fan of Manson, so Snape's opinion of him definitely doesn't match my own :)
Anyway, once again I'd like to thank all of my reviewers; you people are the best!!!
Undead Euro-Trash: Of course you can post my story on your site; I'd be honoured. I still want to do a bit of editing when I finish it, though, so you can either wait for that or post it straight away, whatever you prefer best. You were indeed gushing enough – I was smiling like a maniac after reading your wonderful review, so thank you. I'm really glad that you like the way I write Snape; it takes me ages to figure out what I can or can't make him say, because I really really want him to be IC at all times. As for Elizabeth – it's almost like writing myself, so that's probably what makes her seem real. I'm totally flattered that my fic has brought you into the HP fandom, and I will definitely go to read your story as soon as I have more time. Anyway, thank you once more for the encouraging review, and I hope to hear from you again in the future.
FireValkyrie: Thank you, you're great for being so understanding. And I'm sure you're not really being neglective, either – just write whenever you feel like it, even if it takes you a long time to type (I type with only two fingers, actually, but even so I can be pretty fast if I want to). BTW, I bet you were only kidding about your story being trash, right? :) Why would people send you reviews if it were? Well, anyway, I'm so happy you still think Snape's IC; it wasn't so hard to achieve that in the last chapter, but this one was a complete nightmare. As long as he spoke in short sentences, I was fine, but as soon as I got to the part where he started explaining stuff, I was hopelessly stuck – his vocab didn't seem right, the structure of his sentences didn't seem right ... I don't know, I'm still not completely happy with that bit. But you're right, we don't know how JK would make him behave if he was to fancy someone, so maybe I'm just being too much of a perfectionist. Anyway, thank you for another cool review, and I'll be looking forward to another one!
Yoshi: Oh my, thank you so much for the kind words; you really make me blush. And although I'm sure there are many greater fics out there than the one I'm writing, I'm definitely pleased to hear that you like it so much. I wish I would have more time for writing so that I could give you a new chapter sooner, but, as it is, you'll just have to bear with me. Thank you once again for the beautiful review, and I hope you liked the new update!
Queen of Zan: Oh, I definitely don't mind you saying that my fic is good once more – anything to improve my incredibly low confidence :) And I'm also glad that you found something nice to read while waiting for me to update, because I really do take terribly long. I might go and read that fic myself if you think it's so good. BTW, I've read your 'Poor Poor Snape', so I thought I'd just give you a quick review here. I have to say it was a little chaotic, and Snape, of course, wasn't too IC (but since the fic obviously isn't pretending to be serious, I really didn't mind), but there were some good moments – for example Snape's horrible fake smile, or your explanation of why Snape favours Draco (I totally agree with that explanation, actually; I don't think Snape has any other reason for being so nice to Draco in the real HP books, either). And I am also convinced that Snape loved Lily, and that one of the reasons why he hates Harry is because he reminds him of her. I discussed this with my friend not too long ago, actually, and we came to the conclusion that there's one clue confirming this theory in OotP – when Snape called Lily a filthy little Mudblood. I thought he was just overreacting at first, but if he loved Lily, then I'm certain that such a reaction would be perfectly natural for somebody like Snape. Anyway, enough of my blabbing. Thank you for reviewing once again, and I hope you enjoyed the new update. BTW, do any of your other HP fics feature Snape?
The Evil Cup of Tea: Well, thank you for all the nice comments – they definitely put a smile on my face. I'm especially glad that you don't think Elizabeth's a Mary Sue, because one or two people seemed to think she is. I, however, believe that she's far from perfect – just like me :) Well, if you thought that there was lots of Snape in the last chapter, I think you'll like this one even more. And I finally got to where I had wanted to get all along! Sigh ... I can only wish it were real, though :( Anyway, thank you once again for the review, and I am looking forward to the next one. P.S. That's great news that your asthma has decided to leave you alone for a while; hopefully it'll stay that way.
An Anti-Sheep Cheese Muffin: Oh, all right, thanks for explaining the nickname thing to me. I bet a cheese muffin is definitely very tasty (I won't ask you for the recipe, don't worry), but what's wrong with sheep? Why are they evil? Anyway, I'm glad you liked the last chapter, and I can only hope that you'll like this one as well. It's what I've been aiming for all along, after all – to get Elizabeth and Snape together :) Sorry it took so long to get out again, but I hope the length makes up for it. Anyway, thank you for reviewing, and I hope you managed to finish your chapter so that you'd stop getting threat mail.
Summner: Thank you, I'm so happy that you find the way I write Snape to be OK, because it often happens that I either don't know how he should react at all, or I think of about three different reactions and then have to pick the one that I feel is best. Which is sometimes an incredible dilemma. And what's even worse is actually putting those reactions into sentences that would sound Snape-ish ... I feel that my English is failing me there. Anyway, it's great to know that you're still enjoying my writing, and I hope you'll like this chapter as well. Thank you once again for reviewing!
Padfoot's Girl: Yes, you're right – the fun is definitely beginning in this chapter. And, as you can see, Elizabeth finally gets out of the hospital wing, too, only to end up in Snape's office :) You wouldn't believe just how much I enjoyed writing that scene... Um, I haven't seen Pearl Harbor, so I can't really tell you whether you're right about the battle or not, sorry. Well, I am glad you found yourself something to read to get you through the enormously long waits for my updates (school and fanfiction just don't go together, unfortunately); I probably wouldn't go and read PotC fanfiction myself, but I agree with you that Johnny Depp was fabulous in the movie. He's such an excellent actor (and such a handsome man, too), and I was also extremely disappointed when he didn't win the Oscar. He deserved it so much!!! Have you seen From Hell, by the way? I loved Depp in there too. And I might go and see Secret Window sometime as well. Anyway, thank you very much for reviewing, and I hope you enjoyed the new chapter!
ALittleBitOfDarkness: Another beautiful review from you! You are one of the few people who actually tell me what exactly it is that they like about my story, and not just that they like it. I really appreciate that, so thank you. Anyway, you said that you're happy I don't use innapropriate adverbs, but I think the reason for that might be that I don't trust my English enough to use too many complicated words; often I don't even know them. I'm also glad that you liked Elizabeth's behaviour (but surely you were exaggerating when you said that you can forget that you're reading; it's just words on a computer screen, after all), and I hope she seems even more real in this chapter, because I've put so much of myself into her. In fact, I was crying while writing the kiss. Oh, I get the thing about the pants now, and I am quite sure that if you got your hands on Snape, you would make him wear practically anything. By the way, I updated, so hopefully you'll leave my pants alone. Anyway, thank you once again for the wonderful review, and I hope to hear from you again soon!
Sarvus Snape: Oh my god, you actually took the time to read my story more than once? I am flattered! And I'm also very happy that you like the way I write Snape, because it takes me ages to get him IC; I weigh pretty much every word of his. That's probably why it took me so long to update this time, since it's practically all Snape in this chapter. Hopefully the chapter is long enough to make up for that, though. Anyway, thank you very much for the encouraging review, and it'd be wonderful if I got to hear from you again sometime!
