Disclaimer: None of the recognizable characters and settings belong to me. They are all the intellectual property of J.K. Rowling. I'm just playing around with them for the fun of it…no monetary gain is sought.
This story is dedicated to scatteredlogic for her cherished friendship and all her invaluable help.
Chapter Nineteen: Searching for AnswersAs gray clouds churned through a leaden sky, Minerva sipped a cup of tea and looked out her window with unseeing eyes, worrying over her predicament like a small dog with a bone. The idea of facing a repeat of yesterday's breakfast had repelled her so much that she'd kept to her rooms this morning and to hell with the consequences. How much worse could things get anyway? Seeing Ian, Albus…or Severus was more than she could handle this early in the morning.
Despite having thought of almost nothing but that damnable pensieve, and its damnable contents, ever since she'd been made aware of its existence, she still couldn't decide what course of action she should take. Every time she thought she'd made a decision, something nagged at her to change her mind again.
Giving in to Ian revolted her. Just the thought of letting him touch her again made her skin crawl. Memories of her married life that she'd blocked out and hidden away were suddenly exploding onto the surface of her mind like jetsam thrown up by the ocean after a violent storm. As she reluctantly picked through these relics from her past, she'd realized even more strongly what a nightmare married life had been. Living through it had been a victory. She'd escaped to a different life and going back in any way was just unthinkable.
Scars still lingered on her lower back from a flogging Ian had given her with a horsewhip one time when she'd displeased him over some trifle. The thought of having to explain their creation to anyone had kept her from having them removed, so instead she'd merely kept them buried beneath layers of fabric for decades, as she'd buried the memories of that hateful time.
Severus had wondered about what had caused the marks and had been quite surprised, and perhaps even a little concerned, to see them on her body, but she'd managed to keep her secrets. In the end, they'd both agreed not to question each other about their physical scars and personal pasts, and that had seemed a satisfactory compromise.
The thought of putting herself back into the power of such a man once more scared her to death, and how could she just hand over her family's legacy to him so that he could use it to further some scheme of that monster he supported? For clearly, that was what it would be used for. After all, Severus said he was a backer, and Albus said he was currently short of funds. Nothing else made sense. Wasn't she obligated to fight that evil in any way she could…no matter the cost?
She set her cup of now tepid tea down on her desk and stared down at the pensieve copy once more. There didn't seem to be an easy answer here. If she gave in to Ian's blackmail, she'd never have a free moment to herself again. He'd hold this power over her forever. She'd lose her family's holdings, and those holdings would go to support this evil that she was trying to destroy every day, but at the same time she'd be able to maintain some semblance of a life. She could keep her job; continue to live here at Hogwarts. She could pretend that life hadn't changed, but it would all be a lie. Wasn't that course of action the very antithesis of everything that she'd ever believed in?
If she was truly a murderess then she needed to be punished. She should be condemned to Azkaban. She deserved it. But what if she took this course only to find out that it wasn't true but was just another lie? And that she wasn't guilty of this horrible crime, after all? She'd lose her life, her freedom, and Ian might still be able to get his hands on her estate and deliver its value to Voldemort anyway. What should she do? What was the right answer?
She ran a thoughtful finger around the rough stone rim of the pensieve copy. What was the truth about this thing? Was it a faithful copy of what was in the pensieve or was that a lie as well? She hadn't thought that you could copy memories, but if you could remove and store them, copying them shouldn't be outside the realm of possibility. Why wasn't there any sound, though? In a normal pensieve, if you went into the memory, you experienced it just as if you were there, sound included. Was that true in this pensieve as well, and the lack of sound was just a limitation of the copying process? Possibly.
With a deep sigh, she hugged herself tightly and moved away from the desk toward the warmth of the fire crackling comfortingly on her hearth. If she somehow went into that pensieve and watched herself do those things, would she hear herself utter those words that she could hardly make herself think, much less say? She shivered at the thought.
She needed more information. Hopefully, Irma would have some useful information about pensieves in the library. Then, perhaps, she could learn something that would actually help her. Goodness knows what that might be, but at the moment she was wandering around in the dark, and if she didn't find a way to cast some light on her situation soon, she'd be spending the rest of her artificially shortened life in the deepest sort of darkness that there was.
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In the quiet of the library, Irma Pince pulled the book on memory off the shelf and looked at it curiously. Not surprisingly, they didn't have anything in the collection that was focused solely on pensieves. It wasn't a subject that the students had that much need of in-depth knowledge about, and the collection was basically geared towards their needs. There should be a chapter on them in this book though, along with a discussion of memory blocking and enhancing charms, obliviation, and other mental disciplines that could affect the memory. Hopefully, it would be what Minerva was looking for. If not, perhaps she could be a bit more specific, and then a more effective search could be done.
A frown crossed the librarian's face; though if it concerned whatever was bothering her friend so much, she didn't hold out a lot of hope that she'd be told anything more helpful. Minerva could be an extremely stubborn woman when she dug in her heels and refused to tell you something. Arguing with her wasn't going to get you very far.
Although Irma certainly wanted to help her friend, she didn't wish to anger her, or add to her worries. Curious now, she flipped through the book to the chapter on pensieves and wandered back to her desk as she read. It all seemed fairly dry and straightforward. With a snort of disgust, she closed the book firmly and laid it on her desk. Without knowing the question, the answer wouldn't help her even if it was staring her right in the face. Reading that book wouldn't help her to help her friend, but giving it to her might. She could only hope.
Idly, she raised her eyes from the desk and scanned the quiet room. It was early afternoon and most of the students were still in classes, so there weren't very many people around. Perhaps she should take the book to her friend now. The librarian reconsidered. No. Minerva had a class now, too. It would be better to do it after dinner. Abruptly, a sudden flash of blackness caught her eye.
Someone dressed in black was moving around amongst the shelves that contained most of the volumes on potions. Three guesses who it is, Irma, and the first two don't count, she told herself dryly. As she thought about the Potions master, her recent suspicions came strongly back to mind. Just because Minerva didn't believe that Snape cared about her or was jealous of whom she spent her time with, didn't mean that it wasn't true. Her observations could still be correct. Perhaps she should test them out a bit?
Picking up the book from her desk once again, Irma walked quietly across the library and peered down the row of shelves that Snape was standing behind. The dark wizard was holding a fairly substantial tome in his hands and was turning the delicate pages carefully with a black and forbidding scowl on his face. Apparently, the book wasn't to his liking at all. Irma had a feeling that she probably wouldn't be either, but decided not to let that fear stop her.
"Severus," she called pleasantly, placing her calmest and most professional smile on her lips. "Could I ask you to do me a favor?"
Snape's head snapped up quickly as if her voice had surprised him, though he gave no other outward sign. He stared at her for a moment with narrowed eyes, then closed the book in his hands with a snap and turned to face her directly, moving to within a foot of her position to use his greater height to its most intimidating advantage.
Staring haughtily down his nose at her, he stated dryly, "You can always ask." The unspoken continuation to that was…it's your time to waste, after all.
The man knew how to intimidate, no question about that. Still, she was tougher than most people thought, and she decided to press onward.
"I need your advice about Minerva." She scanned his face carefully, but apart from a sudden watchfulness, there wasn't any obvious change of expression. The silence stretched out as she tried to decide how to word her request until Snape was the one to blink.
"Yes?" The word was drawn out coldly and accompanied by a rising eyebrow.
With a nervous gulp, she raced ahead with her thoughts before she lost her nerve. "I'm worried about her. She hasn't been eating…or sleeping. Something is very wrong. She won't tell me what the problem is, but I thought…I mean, I hoped, that you might have better luck. Or some advice on what else to try?"
"The two of you are friends. If she won't talk to you, what on earth makes you think that I could do any better?" he asked, quite reasonably.
Irma paused and just stared at him. Good question. How could she possibly tell him why without admitting what she suspected about the man's feelings for her friend?
When she didn't seem to be coming forward with a response, Snape shifted the large book against his chest and frowned at her. "In any event, you don't really have any cause to worry."
"Oh?" she said in surprise.
"No. Minerva isn't ill or worried. She's infatuated." The last word was spat out like poison.
Irma blinked. Ah ha. "You really think so?"
"It doesn't take a genius to have noticed that Minerva is once more involved with her ex-husband. I'm sure that she looks tired and is more picky with her food because she's spending her time doing other things. I really think your worries are misplaced. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have somewhere else that I need to be." Snape turned back to the shelf and slid the volume he was holding firmly back into its place.
As he turned around once more and tried to move past the librarian, she stepped directly into his path. "Oh no, I'm sure that you're wrong about that, Severus," she said in a slightly breathy voice.
He paused and looked down at her, his face a study in contrast. Should he swat her aside and stalk out or listen to what she had to say? Curiosity won out. "Really." The word was stated low and full of skepticism, but there was uncertainty in his eyes.
Irma nodded earnestly. "Yes. Minerva is afraid of Ian. I'm positive of that. She told me flat out that she's not involved with him. I think... I'm afraid that the man might be threatening her in some way. She's not eating or sleeping because she's worried about something, and I think it has to do with Ian." She thrust out her chin defiantly. Somehow she was going to make this stubborn man listen to her.
"She admitted to me that there is something wrong. She just won't tell me what it is, except to say that it's personal," Irma continued. "I just thought that someone else might have better luck. I know that you and Minerva are…colleagues. Sometimes you can confide in someone who isn't as close, who doesn't have a personal stake in your life." Let's see how that goes over.
Snape hesitated. "She told you that something is wrong…and that she's not involved with Ian Standish?"
Give that man a gold star.
She nodded encouragingly. "Yes, she did. Then you'll help me? You'll speak to her?" Relief crept into her voice only to be dashed at the cool response she got.
"No." His face hardened, and his voice was cool.
"No?" What did it take to get through to this man?
"No. As you say, Minerva and I are colleagues; we are not friends. I will not pry into her personal life. She wouldn't appreciate it any more than I would if our positions were reversed. If she will not tell you the truth, she most certainly will not tell me."
The truth? Oh, goodness, he still doesn't believe me, thought Irma, how stubborn can any one man be?
Snape brushed by the stunned woman and headed out of the library. For a moment, she just stood there and watched him go, not sure just what else she could say to convince him until her glance fell on the book that she still had clutched in her hands. "Severus, wait." She hurried after him.
With a sigh, he turned back around. "What is it now? I do have other things that I need to attend to. I cannot afford to dally here all day listening to you worry over nothing." His voice was full of impatience.
"If you won't speak to Minerva, would you do me another favor instead?" Perhaps if one approach wouldn't work, another might be more successful. "She wanted this book for some reason. Said it was very important that she get it right away. Unfortunately, I don't have time to take it to her right now. Would you drop it off for me?" She held her breath and held out the book.
Snape hesitated for a moment. Then curiosity won the day once more, and he reached out and took the book from her hand. A frown of puzzlement crossed his face as he glanced down at the title. "You Must Remember This: Exploring the Secrets of the Mind". "Whatever does she want this for?"
Irma shrugged. "I don't know, she wouldn't tell me, but I'll bet it has something to do with whatever is bothering her so much. Will you give it to her?"
She could see the moment of decision in his eyes, as with a brief nod, he slipped the book under his arm and turned away again heading for the door. "I will see that she gets it," was his final comment as he swept out the door and out of her sight.
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Minerva reached out a hand for her doorknob, but before she could touch it, a low voice cut through her distracted thoughts from just behind her.
"Will you be joining us for dinner, Minerva, or do you have more private plans?"
With a sharp intake of breath, she turned and stared up into the cool, composed features of the Potions master. How had he gotten so close without her noticing? That wasn't a good sign, at all. Though he certainly moved very silently, she was usually much more aware of her surroundings than that. She felt a slight shiver go through her at his nearness, and she found herself remembering the last time she was so close to him. No, even closer. Her thoughts lingered for a moment on the feeling of all those lovely buttons pressed against her breasts and down along her ribcage…and something even more tantalizing pressed against her abdomen.
Before she could make the mistake of reaching out and touching him now, she took an abrupt step backwards and felt herself brush up against her chamber door. "Severus. You startled me. Is there something that I can do for you?"
"Yes, you can take this." He held out the book on memory.
She took it automatically with a puzzled expression. "What is it?"
"It's some book that Madam Pince asked me to give to you."
"Oh. Oh, yes. Thank you." She grasped the book eagerly. Oh, please let it give her some answers.
"Are you working on a special project of some sort?" His eyes skimmed over her face, noticing its careworn appearance and the deep circles under her eyes. For the first time, he let himself entertain some doubt as to what had put them there. As unlikely as it seemed, could it be that Irma Pince was right, and she wasn't involved with Ian Standish, after all?
"A project…yes," she murmured.
"Maybe you're taking on too much. You look…rather tired," he suggested softly.
Was that concern she heard in his voice? She looked up into his eyes, but saw nothing but deep shadow. "I'm fine," came her automatic answer, delivered with a tone of finality.
"Really." His response was sharp edged. "Well, you've certainly looked better, then. Perhaps, Mr. Standish is keeping you up too late?" Deny it, Minerva…
An overpowering weariness washed over her at the thought of arguing about this with him yet again. No matter how much she denied her involvement with Ian, Severus refused to believe her, didn't seem to want to believe her, and frankly, what difference did it really make at this point? She might not be here too much longer to keep beating her head against the wall of his suspicions, anyway. Just let it go. Let him go.
"I'm sure that I could use more sleep. Thank you for the book," she said in a quiet tone, as she began to turn away.
Anger surged through him at her answer. He wasn't wrong. Pince was! She didn't deny her involvement with Standish because she couldn't. He reached out and seized her by the arm before she could open her door and escape from him. "Are you heeding my warning?" he hissed shortly.
A flash of answering anger suddenly flooded through her. He should know better, damn it! Why didn't he?
"I have never betrayed you, Severus, not in anyway, and I never will," she spat back.
"See that you don't," he stated with firm arrogance.
"You have no right to lecture me about my behavior. You're the one whose behavior could stand a little correction from what I understand. I've heard rather distressing reports of how you've been acting in the classroom lately. You should never berate the students to the point of tears no matter how they've misbehaved. That's why we have a detention system. You need to treat your students with more respect."
"Don't tell me how to teach my classes, Minerva. You know nothing about what was going on. You weren't even there." His grip tightened on her arm, and he took a menacing step forward.
She glared up into his forbidding face and slipped easily into lecture mode. "It's my responsibility as Deputy Headmistress of this school to see that all the professors are adhering to a professional standard of conduct. Yours has come dangerously close to not meeting those standards lately. You'd better get a hold of your temper, Severus, or you'll regret it."
"You have no business threatening me. How good a role model of decorum are you being at the moment, Deputy Headmistress?" His voice hissed the syllables and stretched them out obscenely. "You're carrying on an affair with a married member of the Board of Governors in front of the entire school, beginning with a torrid embrace in front of all the students and staff. Don't you dare to lecture me about behavior, Minerva. Yours won't stand up to much scrutiny at the moment."
Without allowing her even an instant to respond, he cast her arm away from him as one would throw away trash and stalked off with his robes swishing angrily about his legs.
"I am not having an affair!" she called after him in frustration, but without giving any sign that he'd heard her, he turned the nearest corner and disappeared from her sight.
