Updated: Wednesday 9th February 2005, in honour of Haley Carr's Birthday -)
Disclaimers: See Chapter One
Black Light
By Dante Lewis
Chapter Eighteen: Eye for an Eye
Severus Snape put down his quill, and, sealing the envelope with the Snape Crest (with Slytherin green wax, no less) summoned his private owl: a majestic black creature named Onyx. His only wish at that moment, was that he could be there in Azkaban to see the look on Black's face when he got his mail.
As he watched the Owl fly off into the early afternoon sky, Severus ignored the annoying little voice in his head that insisted that the object of his ire was most likely too insane by now to even comprehend a written word, and that he had waited too long to have his final say. But whether it is a insane Black or a lucid one at the receiving end of the line, it was all a means to an end.
"Was that Onyx, Uncle Sev?" A little voice suddenly piped up from his side.
'Damn that child for catching on to my finely crafted art of stealth' Severus thought, as he turned around to face his niece. '…and sense of timing!'
"Yes Estella, that was Onyx. Must you state the obvious?" Severus replied in a level tone.
The object of his oncoming migraine pouted. "But Uncle Sev, I wanted to give Onyx an Owl treat before he left!"
"Well you can give him one when he gets back!" Severus said shortly, rubbing the bridge of his nose in irritation. 'Here we go…'
"But he will hunt while he's out and not be hungry when he gets back!" Estella proclaimed, as though she was stating an obvious fact.
"Well then you needn't have worried about feeding him before he left then, hmmm?" Severus replied, as though it was equally as obvious.
"But… but… I wanted to!" Estella cried, her innocent child logic failing her.
"Well how was I to know that, I am not a mind reader!" Severus snapped.
"You are when you want to be!" Estella said quietly, referring to his skills as a legilimens.
'Touché, little Miss' Severus quirked his lips, but said nothing; his eyes staring intently into her blue orbs.
"Uncle Sev, are you mad now?" Estella asked, lowering her eyes.
Severus sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "No, I am not mad. I am however at a loss as to why the dietary habits of a self-sufficient animal are of such concern to you."
Estella shrugged. "Was just trying to be nice, you know. Onyx is a good owl and deserves treats."
Severus looked down at his niece incredulously, cursing the emergence of such Gryffindor traits in the child. "He is also my Owl, and as such my responsibility."
"Well maybe if I had my own pet I wouldn't want to care about yours so much!" Estella said sweetly.
'Slytherin. Very Slytherin.' Severus thought, a strange sense of relief flooding through him. 'There's hope for her yet.'
"We've already spoken about this Estella, I will not get you a dog. When you start at Hogwarts I will consider either a Cat, Toad or Owl as such are the School's permitted familiars but not before then. Am I clear?"
"Yes Uncle Sev." Estella said evenly, saving the battle for another day.
"Very well." Severus said appreciatively, placing a hand atop Estella's head. "I must attend to my potions. Can I trust you to quietly colour and play whilst I work?" Severus asked.
"Yes Uncle Sev." Estella answered eagerly as she followed Severus into his lab where she then took her seat at her very own worktable that was set up a safe distance from the banks of cauldrons Severus worked with, but well within his line of sight.
"Thank you Estella. Now you remember the rules, not a sound from you unless I give the signal, alright?" Uncle Sev reminded Estella as he busied himself at her desk, conjuring fresh parchment and crayons for her.
"Yes Uncle Sev." Estella droned, clearly used to this routine. "The potions are extremely volatile at this delicate stage of development and the slightest distraction could send you to the hothpiball." She recited, in her best Uncle Sev impersonation (only he didn't pronounce 'hospital' that way, of course!).
Severus smirked at his niece's impressionable observance and adherence to his code of conduct. Evidently his influence over his niece was so far overwriting the genetic predispositions she had undoubtedly inherited from her father. Nurture vs. Nature, so they say.
"That's correct, Estella. Congratulations on learning the first rule in potion making: always listening to your potion's master." Severus nodded in acknowledgement. "Now if you will excuse me, we have precisely one hour and twenty minutes until supper time and I wish to have completed a batch of Pepper Up for Madame Pomfrey by that time."
Estella nodded absently at her Uncle, the wheels in her mind turning. Severus noted with queasy anticipation the far away look in his niece's eyes as he set up his ingredients. 'What on earth was the child planning now?' he mused. 'Probably planning her next method of attack in the immovable plight for a dog' he concluded, as he set about making his potion.
Several steps into his potion brewing, Severus felt something was wrong. Listening out for the frantic scratching of crayon to parchment, Severus was alerted when he could hear none. Suddenly, he realised that he could feel her eyes on him, watching him intently.
Pausing only momentarily in his fluid movements, Severus continued with the potion without looking up until he had reached a non-critical moment in the potion's process. Once he had adjusted the cauldron to simmer for the necessary length of time, Severus allowed himself to chance a look in the direction of his niece, where she was, he confirmed, watching his every move.
Her eyes capturing her Uncle's ever so briefly, Estella took in a breath as though contemplating speech, but noting the pre-emptive look her Uncle gave and remembering the rules, she fiddled with the crayon in her hand and waited politely for the signal instead. Thinking she had captured her Uncle's attention and he was about to grant her permission to speak, Estella sighed quietly with disappointment when he instead looked back down at his work and began preparing the next lot of ingredients for the potion.
"Why aren't you drawing?" Severus asked, not looking up.
Estella shrugged, somewhat startled at his unscheduled outburst and unsure if she would be risking a potentially dangerous potions accident by answering out of turn. He hadn't given the signal!
When he didn't hear an answer straight away, Severus looked up from his cutting to see the end of a shrug. 'No signal' he realised with awe. 'Good girl.'
"You may speak." Severus said, giving the signal.
"Idon'tknowwhattodrawIwannahelpyouinstead." Estella said all at once.
Severus looked at her blankly, replaying in his mind what she had said, albeit at a slower speed. Realisation dawning in his features, he shook his head. "No…" he started, but then, noticing the way her face fell, paused, trying to think of the best way to handle this.
Clearing his throat, Severus decided a change of tact was in order. "While I approve of your inclination to show a vested interest in the subtle art of potion making," he started, noting with satisfaction the way Estella beamed at the notion of his approval. "I do not have the extra time available to me at the particular stage this potion is at with which to supervise your assistance. Perhaps tomorrow I will be able to schedule some time to teach you some rudimentary basics and we could work on a simpler potion."
Stella nodded enthusiastically. "That would be nice thank you Uncle Sev."
"Indeed." He intoned. "As for now, you may continue to observe from where you are, unless…" at this he picked up his wand and, pointing it at the crayons and parchment on Estella's table, muttered a incantation. "… you would rather play pretend."
Estella blinked in astonishment as she took in the scale replica potions kit her uncle had transfigured. It was just like his real set that he was working with across the room from her, except her utensils were splashed with a myriad of bold contrasting colours (a throwback to the crayons they once were, perhaps, given her Uncle's aptitude was Potions, after all and not Transfiguration) and the piles of ingredients at her disposal were of course, not real. But still, she was now free to observe and mimic him at her leisure.
Smiling widely – 'Selina's smile' Severus thought absently – Estella started arranging her new toys so that her workbench was mirroring Severus' at that moment. "Thanks Uncle Sev!" She said enthusiastically. "Shall we begin?" She added, sounding remarkably like the Professor Snape she had overheard in the classroom one too many times.
Severus merely nodded in acceptance and proceeded to add the next ingredient to his cauldron, before stirring it precisely 3 times counter clockwise. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see his niece watching him intently, her actions half a beat behind his. Smirking at what that mutt Black would do if he were in the room to bear witness to his daughter's blatant idolisation of his arch nemesis, Severus wondered if this was what it would be like with his own children.
'Nonsense' he mentally corrected. 'Black is as good as dead, Estella may well as be my own.'
Hazarding another glance at his niece, Snape was amused to see Estella deep in thought, completely immersed in her actions to even pay attention to him. As he watched her stir her play-potion, he could see her counting soundlessly and tilting her head in a gesture that was all his own. He realised with a start that he had just considered his niece 'as good as his own child' and that, in realising just how true that statement was in terms of the dynamics of their unique relationship, he should no longer be afraid to let her in.
Rousing Severus from his thoughts, however, were his niece's eyes on his. His niece's fiercegrey eyes. Eyes just like Black's. Eyes that haunted him still. Eyes that when they watch him, remind him of how his eyes had watched on in amusement as Severus had faced almost certain death at his doing. Of eyes that glittered in triumph when he had gotten away with the 'prank' and later, stolen Selina's heart.
Severus could feel the walls around his heart rebuild. Even from Azkaban, Sirius Black still seemed to manage to get the last laugh.
End Chapter Eighteen: Eye for an Eye