Chapter Six - Fate Plays a Word Game

The staff woke up to a light fall of snow on Christmas morning. As there were no students staying for the holidays Snape expected the late and leisurely breakfast to be exceptionally quiet, but halfway through the meal two visitors appeared at the door to the Great Hall. Accompanied by Hagrid, Hermione Granger and Harry Potter entered rather shyly and made their way to the dining table. They had only left the school a few months earlier but already they looked older. A pearl button shone at the frilled collar of a pure white blouse beneath Hermione's smart navy robes. Harry was dressed in casual Muggle clothes – blue jeans and a dark blue sweatshirt. He looked taller and rangier – very much the image of his late father. Hermione, her hair still a bush of rich brown curls, had become a most attractive witch.

Snape took one look at Harry's face and hastily looked away – Harry's green eyes still reminded him of the beautiful Lily Evans.

The two ex-students were greeted very warmly – Dumbledore and McGonagall were especially welcoming, Flitwick squeaked with delight, and Black was particularly thrilled to see his Godson. Snape sat in silence at the end of the table as Hermione and Harry gratefully accepted toast and coffee, and chatted to the other staff. Eventually however, Hermione left her chair and came over to the Potions Master.

"And how are you, Professor?" she asked shyly.

"Perfectly well, thank you Miss Granger" Snape replied in a condescending voice. He felt obliged to be polite and say something more so he added "And are you enjoying training to be an Auror?"

"Ah, I've changed my mind about that" she confessed. "Next year I'm going to train to be a teacher."

"Oh no" Snape groaned quietly.

"What's wrong?" Hermione asked in surprise.

"A trainee teacher" he whispered. "You are not going to come here, are you? I won't find you invading my classroom in a year's time will I, sitting in on my lessons and putting me right about everything?"

Hermione didn't know what to say. She supposed she should have expected a reaction like this.

McGonagall intervened. "Severus is suffering from another trainee teacher at the moment" she said merrily, her blue eyes twinkling at Hermione. "And that particular young lady doesn't have quite your penchant for correcting people and putting them in their place! So he thinks he's got worse to come."

"Did I do that?" Hermione asked.

"Merlin's beard!" Snape groaned again. As there were no students present he allowed himself to unbend a little; with theatrical style he buried his head in his hands.

"Oh quite a lot, quite a lot" McGonagall assured her, watching Snape shudder behind his hands.

The two witches looked at each other, and then at Snape. Slowly he raised his face to peer through his fingers. Hesitantly he smiled. Then suddenly they all started laughing.

"You were bloody awful, Granger" he mumbled darkly.

"Severus, language!" McGonagall hissed.

"Well she was, Minerva" Snape insisted. "There wasn't a question I could ask without Granger would have the answer. Give her half a chance and she'd be running the bloody lesson. And actually you are not quite right about our Miss Lavelle" he added broodingly. "She does have a certain flair for putting people in their places."

As this light banter continued a number of things struck Hermione. One was that she was no longer their student; she had immense respect for her former teachers, but she was an adult and could in a sense count herself on equal terms. Another was that her teachers, although powerful wizards, were only human after all, and to face a class of children could on occasions be something of an ordeal for them. And she also realised that she had a certain fondness for them as human beings, even for her moody, and sometimes cruel, former Potions Master.

Snape suddenly found Harry was by his side. "Hello Professor" Harry said.

"Potter! Is there no getting rid of you?" Snape exclaimed softly. The ghost of a smile played around his lips again as, rather self-consciously, he shook Harry's hand. "Well, are you still training to be an Auror, Potter? Only, Miss Granger here, tells me she's giving it up and is going to teach."

"I'm still gonna be an Auror" Harry assured him. "Definitely, Professor. It's a great job! I certainly wouldn't like to teach – I remember what I was like! Hermione, I'm gonna disappear to Sirius's room, give him his present and so forth. But Hagrid's invited us for a cup of tea at half past ten. Shall I see you then?"

Tactfully Hermione realised that Sirius and Harry must have a lot of private family business to catch up on. "Well I'm going to talk about my teacher training with Professor McGonagall" she explained. "Shall I call for you at, say, ten-fifteen? We can walk over to Hagrid's together."

"Yeah, good" Harry agreed. "Well, it's nice seeing you again" he said to McGonagall and Snape. "If I'm allowed, I might pop back next year."

"It's good to see you, Harry. Come back any time" McGonagall said. "Merry Christmas, my boy." Quite unexpectedly she gave him a hug.

Snape shook his hand again. "Good luck, Potter" he said softly and Harry was impressed by a certain sincerity in his tone.

"All the best to you, Professor" Harry replied. "Merry Christmas." And with a last, rather curious look at his former Potions Master, Harry walked away.

"Come on Hermione, we have things to discuss" McGonagall said briskly. "Let's go to my office and sit by the fire."

"Yes, lets. Oh, and Professor" Hermione said, turning to Snape, "trainee teachers usually look for a placement at a school other than their own. To broaden their outlook. So don't worry; my first choice was always going to be Beauxbaton. And my second … Sienna." And after squeezing Snape's arm affectionately she set off with McGonagall, Snape staring after her in amazement.

Snape and Flitwick spent the rest of the morning playing chess. Flitwick won; he was the slightly better player and tended to win about sixty per cent of their matches; but even without the fun of a victory Snape appreciated a challenging game.

Lunch began at one o'clock. Sybill Trelawney, the aloof Divination Professor joined them for lunch, enticed from her lofty tower classroom, as she was every year, by the irresistible aroma of roast turkey and plum pudding. She sat next to Dumbledore, displacing McGonagall from her usual position next to the Headmaster. McGonagall chose a seat next to Snape and found him in a surprisingly agreeable mood.

"Sybill is enjoying herself" McGonagall observed darkly as they watched Dumbledore insisting on refilling Trelawney's wine goblet.

Once the coffee and mince pies had been consumed Dumbledore lured Trelawney away, adamant that she should try a special liqueur he had stowed in his office; Trelawney rather giggly and unsteady on her feet as she tottered after him.

Dumbledore's office was full of Christmas cards; they hung festooning the walls, magically suspended as if on strings. "Oh you are popular, Headmaster!" Trelawney exclaimed as she sank into a Queen Anne chair and looked around the room.

"Yes, yes I must be" he agreed. "Now, where is that bottle. Somewhere in here." As he knelt and rummaged in a low cupboard the change in her voice alerted him. He straightened up, grasping a small brown bottle and gazing at Trelawney. Her eyes were rolling in her head and her mouth was oddly slack as though she was having a fit. Her voice had become deep, harsh, almost inhuman.

"The dark road opens before us. It will draw us into a maze. The only route through? A twisting route. A long, twisting route to get us through the coming darkness."

The Headmaster watched her carefully. "Is there … light at the end of this dark road?" he ventured to ask.

"Light? Yes, for some. For some" Trelawney replied sadly. "Walk beside the heavenly child."

With that she said no more. Her head lolled sideways against the wing of the chair and she appeared to have fainted.

Having had far too many goblets of red wine at lunchtime, Snape fell asleep on his Chesterfield sofa before his sitting room fire. He was awoken at half past seven by a house-elf knocking at the service panel near the fireplace.

"Come in" he called, swinging himself into an upright position and running a hand around the back of his neck. His head ached, and his mouth felt dry and sour.

Dobby entered quietly through the small service door. "Please sir, the Headmaster wants you to be at supper at nine o'clock, sir" the elf said in his high, sing-song voice. "He particularly wants to speak to you, sir."

"Very well, Dobby" Snape replied quietly. "Tell the Headmaster I will be there."

A shower, a shave and a change of clothes made him feel better. At supper Snape ate little and drank only apple-and-elderflower juice. He sought out Dumbledore.

"You wanted to see me, Headmaster."

"Yes, Severus. There is something I want to show you" Dumbledore said confidentially. "In my office, after supper."

Neither of the wizards wanted much to eat, so after staying for just under an hour for the sake of politeness, they headed for Dumbledore's office. Dumbledore took his Pensieve from its cabinet, gave the ancient stone bowl a swirl and placed it on his desk. His memory of the afternoon's events came swimming into view. Together they stared into the bowl and watched the picture – the memory – of Dumbledore searching in a cupboard. They heard Trelawney's exclamation about the Christmas cards, the sound of her plumping down in an armchair, and the clink of bottles.

"This is it now" Dumbledore said. They both watched as, clearly in a trance, she uttered the words about the dark road, the twisting route through the maze and the heavenly child.

At length Dumbledore straightened up and the picture and sound of his thoughts dissolved into semi-solid white mist in the stone bowl of the Pensieve. He took his wand and replaced the memory inside his head.

"I showed that scene to Minerva just before supper" he said.

"What did she make of it?"

"Well, she is a bit suspicious, naturally. You know her opinion of Divination, and indeed of Sybill." Seeing Snape's bitter smile, Dumbledore added "Yes, I know you share Minerva's views, Severus. But Sybill has on occasions been proved correct. Spectacularly correct; as we all know. In her own mind Minerva is trying to play this down, but we are both aware that this might be a warning of some impending problem. I intend to discuss this with Amy and Felix tomorrow. Anyhow, if you have recovered from your rather liquid lunch would you like to sample this liqueur that Sybill and I tried earlier?"

They sat by the fire, chatting and sipping a deep red syrupy liquid from jewel-like Waterford crystal glasses. At a quarter past eleven Dumbledore noted the time and called for a house-elf to attend his office. He was drawing a third chair to the fireside when Dobby appeared through the service panel.

"Dobby. Go down to the broomshed" he instructed. "Celeste should be arriving at half past eleven. Ask her to come up here, please. She may of course put away her travelling clothes first." He noticed Snape's sullen expression. "I want you to stay, Severus" he commanded.

"As you wish, Headmaster" Snape replied wearily.

A few minutes later Celeste arrived. She wore a long-sleeved, calf length, cream wool dress, and her belt and thick-soled high boots were of imitation brown suede. She entered quietly, wished both wizards a Merry Christmas, took a seat by the fire and gratefully accepted a glass of liqueur. Snape regarded her cautiously. She looked tired, as though her day had been stressful, yet she was as immaculately groomed as ever. Her lips bore a trace of lip gloss as protection against the cold. Her chestnut hair was brushed back and tumbled loose about her shoulders, its colour exceedingly rich against the cream of the dress. Snape thought it very beautiful. The way it had fanned out about her in the prefects' bath came to his mind. She is very lovely, he conceded.

"Did you have a pleasant time, Celeste?" Dumbledore asked in his kindly voice.

"Wonderful thank you, Headmaster" she replied. "I saw my uncle at Midnight Mass, then spent the night with the Weasleys, then left after an early breakfast. I was home before nine o'clock, so I had the whole day!"

"And how are your parents?" Dumbledore enquired.

But Celeste was not listening. She had taken a sip of liqueur and was holding up her glass to study its garnet colour against the firelight; entranced both by the liquid's ability to portray the fire's warmth and the way the crystal magnified its light. "Beneath the still, cold, ruby glow of everlasting Polar night" she murmured. Then she seemed to remember where she was and she pulled herself together. "Sorry … 'The Ice Cart' … not appropriate really – it's a celebration of cold. I'm more taken with how this captures the light and warmth. Err, my parents… (Snape suspected Celeste was choosing her words carefully.) Mother is … blooming. Father is, quite well, in fact best I've seen in a long time. He is home until Boxing Day!"

"You could have stayed longer if you had wanted" the Headmaster pointed out gently.

Celeste finished her drink in one gulp. "I know. But one day was fine. The Weasleys' house was packed. It's amazing how they all fit round the breakfast table. I didn't see Percy and Penny, but Charlie was there with his new girl friend, Amanda Fitzwarren. It turns out she and I are distantly related."

"Yes, well Charlie always did have an eye for a pretty witch" Dumbledore chuckled. "And you do come from quite a large family."

Celeste smiled. "I think Charlie and Mandy will be very happy together" she said. "I'm glad for them. Apparently Harry Potter and a friend called Hermione are visiting tomorrow."

"They were here today" Dumbledore remarked. "Hermione wants to go into teaching. The idea gave Severus a bit of a shock. Not one of your favourite pupils was she, Severus."

"She used to drive me up the wall" Snape drawled. "And Potter? I'm sure he threw a firework in my classroom one day! Landed in a cauldron and splashed everyone. I should have reminded him about that – he would probably admit to it now. He was almost as bad as those awful Weasley twins."

Celeste smiled at Snape. "It's scary sometimes, trying to keep control" she said softly.

"As Miss Granger will find out" Snape observed coolly. "Apparently she hopes to train at Beauxbaton so I won't have to endure her as trainee." He sounded contemptuous but his ghostly smile made a brief appearance.

"As you endure me" Celeste grinned. "Mmmm, Beauxbaton. My old school! I wish I'd met Hermione."

"You could see her at The Burrow, tomorrow" Dumbledore suggested.

Celeste mulled the idea over. The Weasleys appeared to prefer a houseful of guests – this was their third Christmas without their son Ron, and furious activity seemed to be their answer to coping with his loss. However, it put a strain on their tight budget. "Mmmm? I've imposed on Arthur and Molly's hospitality already though" she decided. "They have so many people turning up at their house. No, I'll leave it. I'm bound to run into her sometime. She won't start training until next September, will she. Well, if you will excuse me, gentlemen; I'm very tired. I think I'll go to bed."

She bid them goodnight and Dumbledore showed her to the door. Snape listened to the sound of her boots clumping gradually away. He was always surprised that her footsteps could be so heavy, almost masculine, yet in high heels she sounded just like any other woman.

Dumbledore stood in silent thought for several minutes; then he too seemed to remember where he was. He refilled their glasses. "You have heard Estella teasing Celeste about Charlie Weasley" he said to Snape.

"Yes, I have heard the odd remark" Snape replied casually.

"Celeste, as you know, joined Vladimir Gordeev's team in Romania, controlling the dragon problem there" Dumbledore explained. "That was the team Charlie took over three years later when Vladimir returned to Russia. So she worked with Charlie for two years. They were … drawn to each other, shall we say. They had what Celeste describes as 'a bit of a fling'." He smiled. "That is to say she looked upon it as a bit of a fling. But Charlie, it seems, began to take it seriously. I believe he actually proposed marriage. That is why Celeste left."

Snape's eyebrows arched. "I see" he said.

"She always wanted to teach" the Headmaster continued quietly, almost talking to himself. "That just made her take the plunge."

"Why did she ever want to work with dragons anyway?" Snape asked in a derisive tone.

"She has her reasons. She might explain in her own time. It wouldn't be a bad thing if she did. But what I'm telling you about Celeste and Charlie is in confidence, Severus."

"Of course, Headmaster" Snape replied smoothly. "Do her … do her parents live apart?"

"No, and yet sometimes yes" Dumbledore said cryptically. "It is a difficult situation and I suppose I should also leave that to Celeste to explain properly, if she chooses. She has a few horrors in her life. Not many of us are totally spared them, are we? It is late. Perhaps we ought to turn in."

There was a heavy fall of snow during the night and the following day the grounds looked as enchanting as a Christmas card. In the staff room after breakfast Celeste asked if anyone would accompany her on a walk through the forest. No one seemed keen, however. She considered going alone but Snape took delight in pointing out that this would be 'most unwise' as the forest was so dangerous. Celeste went away thinking this over as Snape and Flitwick set up the chessboard.

But Snape could not settle down to his game of chess. With a mumbled apology to Flitwick he went in search of Celeste and to his extreme annoyance found her heading towards the forest. Silly girl, he fumed, hurrying after her. Damn, I'll have to go with her now – she doesn't know these woods well enough. Why didn't she heed my warning? Why does she always think she knows best?

But Celeste didn't enter the forest; Hagrid's cabin was her destination. Five minutes later they both emerged, accompanied by Fang, Hagrid's boarhound. Chatting happily together, they headed for the forest at a brisk pace. They didn't see Snape. Hagrid was carrying his crossbow.

"The minx!" Snape whispered aloud. So she has got her walk. And she does have company. And she does have protection! So Severus, you can stay indoors, which – after all – is what you wanted. But he couldn't help regretting that he had lost the opportunity of being her companion.

Many of the staff lunched late that day. His chess game long over, Snape patrolled the castle, irritated at having no students to upset. Cold air rushed up to meet the Potions Master as he went down to lunch by way of the marble staircase – Argus Filch was coming through the Main Door. Behind the Caretaker two people were arguing on the steps.

"It was too badly injured, Rubeus!" Snape heard Celeste shout. "What would you have me do? Leave it to suffer?"

"Well – no, but there no need to feed every bloomin' wolf 'n' fox. They're vermin–"

"They're not doing us any harm! If and when they do, we can deal with them. Meanwhile, surely there's enough room on this planet for more than just us and whatever we decide is useful to us!"

Celeste burst in, in a temper, stamping the snow from her boots and loosening her cloak. "Excuse me, Professor" she mumbled to Snape, flouncing past him as she strode up the stairs.

Snape stared after her, listening to Hagrid's heavy tread marching into the Great Hall. "And just what was that all about?" he enquired of Filch.

"Ohrr nuffin, Professor" Filch replied dismissively. "Miss Celeste Aay Kayed a rabbit in the forest but wouldn't let 'Agrid take it fer Fang. Said some passing carnivore would be glad of it. Said Fang 'ad enough wiv scraps from the kitchen. Esscuse me, Professor." Filch didn't want to get into too much conversation with Snape. Instead he shuffled off to get a mop.

So Celeste used the Avada Kedavra curse, Snape mused. So much for my thinking she needed protection. He conceded that it was true about the kitchen scraps. The school consumed tons of meat. There were plenty of scraps to feed Fang as well as all the cats. Snape took his place at the table and moments later Celeste reappeared, her cloak gone and her boots clean. She sat near to Hagrid as usual but their conversation was a trifle stilted.

Snape watched her again at dinner that evening. She marched down the Hall in her royal blue robe and evening gown as if she was wearing battle colours. It will be silver jewellery tonight, he said to himself – she rarely wears gold with the blue or the jade green, rarely silver with the carmine; as for the emerald – it can go either way. Ah yes, the blue dress – the lowest cut dress! What will Argus do? The Head of Slytherin smiled to himself as he watched the conflicting emotions on Filch's thin face. Celeste greeted Hagrid and Filch, and was soon in friendly conversation with them. It seemed she had no use for sulks or grudges.

Without students, New Year's Eve was a particularly sedate affair. A champagne buffet was served in the Great Hall and The Weird Sisters played music from the 1920s and 1930s. Many of the teachers danced. To Snape's mounting annoyance, Black showed off by dancing a playful two-step with Celeste, followed by a sinuously provocative tango with Hooch.

"Well, ask one of them to dance, Severus" Dumbledore advised, seeing Snape's look of fury.

But Snape would not. He thought himself to be a hopeless dancer. And, he reasoned, it was just possible that, as he normally went to such pains to be unfriendly, any request of his would be declined, leaving him looking a fool. He stormed off and took a walk around the building. Half an hour later he was glowering out of a window on the second floor when Hooch found him.

"Why aren't you dancing, Severus?" she asked.

"I don't dance! I NEVER dance! You KNOW that!" Snape snapped.

"Yes … but … I thought … Celeste–" Hooch began.

"Celeste WHAT?" he roared.

"Oh nothing! You're such a pillock sometimes, Severus!" she shouted. And, not trusting herself to say anything further to him, Hooch stormed back to the Great Hall.

Disgruntled, Snape continued to prowl the building, only reappearing in the Great Hall at midnight in time for Auld Lang Syne, whence he found himself lined up between Celeste and McGonagall. Both witches grasped his hands tightly, their grip surprisingly strong. From across the circle of excited, singing faces Hooch winked at him. He flicked his hair out of his eyes and sneered back at her. She was hand in hand with Black on one side and Hagrid on the other, clearly revelling in male attention. Snape decided he was definitely wide of the mark when he suspected there was 'something going on' between Celeste and Madeline Hooch.