Fanfiction based in the world of Harry Potter, created by JKR. Her characters are hers. Original characters are mine. No pecuniary rewards. Please see first chapter for full disclaimers and description.
Thank you to my Betas, Elaine and JL, aka Kirasha who have both stepped up the to the challenge marvelously as I scramble to finish this before HBP! Any remaining errors or mistakes are my own—please feel free to point them out!
Chapter 46: Subterfuge
She sat for a long time, listening to the 'sappy' music over and over. She was stunned, to say the least. Sentiment that he had never come close to expressing in words, though she had felt it profoundly when they shared the Bond, now played blithely through the air.
She thought perhaps that she ought to have been happy that he had made this sort of gesture to express himself so plainly. Even though she still felt her emotions were distorted because of the broken Bond, Severus' nearly continual attention since the Easter Holiday seemed to have stabilized that somewhat.
However, what she felt as she listened to the song, was fear, slowly morphing into nearly abject panic. The thing is, she knew him well enough to know that he would never have done such a thing lightly. The uncharacteristic gesture seemed one of desperation.
He didn't think he was coming back.
That had to be the only possible explanation. He wanted her to have some clear, tangible evidence of what he had never been able to say to her. Something she could keep forever in case the worst happened.
Of course this also allowed him to 'save face' if he did return alive. No one else would ever believe that snarky, cold, stoic Professor Snape would even listen to that sort of 'rubbish', let alone give it away. If someone found it in her office or caught her listening to it, they might question her taste in music, but they would never dream that she was actually listening to a message from HIM.
That last thought was actually comforting. That was exactly something Severus would do, to give her something that could in no way be traced back to him. She managed a half-smile to herself as she tried to get a grip on her fear. It wasn't going to do anyone any good just now, and she might be able to be of some use at St. Mungo's.
She carefully stored the cube away in her bag so she could keep it with her and headed out the door. She ran into the Headmaster, almost literally, at the main doors.
"Rowena, I wondered if I might find you here. Will you accompany me to my office?" he asked, though his brisk strides were already leading that direction without waiting for her response. She had to half-trot to keep up with him, and noticed dark smudges along one side of his robes that looked like dried blood.
The stone gargoyle guarding his office made no comment when he gave the password, "Sugar Floss" and she followed him onto the spiral stair. Neither of them spoke, as he seemed too deep in thought for light conversation. Once inside his office, he again asked the portraits for privacy--there was apparently some charm he could use once they were empty to prevent their occupants from eavesdropping onto conversations within the office. Rowena was familiar with many security charms, but this sort of charm was new to her--how many people had portraits likely to spy on them? She cataloged the information as an area to research in the future, but remained silent.
"You have heard about the attack?" he asked without preamble. He sat in an overstuffed chintz chair near his fireplace and waved for her to take its companion, which she did, nodding in answer to his question. "Dylan Howard is expected to live, though there is now no question of his coming back to teach in September. He is already in Texas and has someone with him.
"Three of my students were killed. Countless numbers were badly injured. St. Mungo's has had to call in its entire emergency staff. Your father tells me he expects no more deaths, but there are a few children who might still be unable to return to school at the start of next term."
Rowena watched him speak, and noticed the lines of fatigue on his face, making him look older than she had ever seen him. The bright blue eyes were crystal-clear, however, not the least fogged with age or fatigue. In fact, at the moment, they were glittering with an anger that she had never witnessed in him before. It was suddenly easier for her to understand You-Know-Who's fear of him, when she saw him like this. His strength was a palpable thing, causing the room to feel as though it positively thrummed with barely contained magical power. His aged appearance was a stark contrast to the sheer force he radiated.
"I would like to discuss your research. Particularly the research you did before coming to this school. I'd like to know more about the more specific impact of emotions on certain spells?"
She was completely wrong-footed. She had done quite a bit in that very area--to her students' dismay, as most of them found the theory to be quite boring. Nothing but dry equations to attempt to quantify various emotions as an energy force, attempting to demonstrate the impact of that additional force when added to the different energy wavelength of the Magic itself. To her it was fascinating, to the students, as dull as Binns' lectures—but what did it have to do with what had just happened today?
"Yes, Albus. I started with some of the more obvious spells--the Patronus that needs a really happy memory, the Boggart banishing charm that needs laughter, and even the Cruciatus, which needs cruelty. I thought, if emotions affected those spells--and in the case of the Patronus and the Cruciatus, they are some of the strongest spells in use--what sort of affect might they have on other spells?" She looked at him curiously; unable to fathom where he was 'going' with his questions.
"What do you know of Harry's survival of the Avada Kedavra?" he asked, pinning her to the spot with his sharp gaze.
Now she had an inkling of where he was going, and it made her very uncomfortable. She squirmed a bit in her seat.
"We weren't allowed to do much with that area, in my department," she said, slightly evasively. "Anything we did was fairly quickly confiscated and sent to the Department of Mysteries."
"Which is why you kept copies of all your work so closely sealed in your own files at home," Albus said confidently, without the slightest hint of accusation. "Lily Evans was one of the most--if not THE most talented Charms student to ever pass through this school during my time here. I need to know what you know about what she did."
"Well... I have to tell you that this is purely speculation, because I have no way to test it. I think I know how she did it. The basics are pretty widely known of course—essentially nothing more or less complicated than that somehow her sacrifice protected Harry. I think I found the actual method she used, or at least something very like it. I wouldn't be surprised if they knew the exact method in the Department of Mysteries, where as my research is all guesswork. I didn't have proper 'security clearance' to be allowed to delve into it more deeply.
"It had to have been ritual magic, something very old, probably blood magic. Not unlike the Soul Bond in some respects I think."
She fidgeted with a loose thread on her robes, trying not to go off on an internal angst-tangent over the issue of her broken Bond with Severus.
"I think she probably did the ritual over Harry sometime after he was born. She knew he was in danger. So she probably did it as soon as she could--maybe she found it or researched it while she was pregnant. It would take too much time to do in the heat of an attack. That's the only way I think it could have been done. She did the necessary preparation, so that when the time came, all it required was her... sacrifice, her blood... to complete the protection."
She sighed and shook her head.
"That's the thing, though, that's why the Ministry dampens all that sort of research. What use is it to repeat what she did? A life for a life, it's true, but still the killing curse takes a life. I was researching it, hoping to find some way to defend against the curse altogether, without the sacrifice, but it's just too powerful. There are some theoretical modifications that could be made to the ritual--but it's impossible to test the modifications. It's impossible, first of all, to inspire the depth of love and feeling for a lab-rat to perform the testing ritual... and then of course, if the test is successful, the rat lives while the scientist dies?"
She trailed off in frustration. In her mind, this was simply another one of her personal 'failures'. She couldn't develop a shield for the Cruciatus. Her wards at Azkaban had fallen with ridiculous ease once the giants had physically attacked the structure. All she had to show for years of research into Harry's survival of the Avada Kedavra was a file-cabinet chock-full of notes on 'theory' and nothing whatever tangible. Perhaps there was a tad bit of Slytherin ambition in her, as she felt the shame of not being 'the one' who managed to develop THE counter-curse for that most feared of spells.
"It's of no use to anyone, Albus, nothing but a bunch of dead-end research. It's not even something I'd be willing to teach the students, or other adults for that matter. We'd have people all over the place performing 'protective rituals' over their loved ones--and in the case of teenagers that title changes ownership every few days--and more needless deaths in the process."
He had steepled his fingers in front of his face as she spoke, and listened to her without interruption, apparently rapt.
"I would very much like to see your notes on the subject, Rowena," he said in mild tones that nonetheless carried weight of a command. "I've done a bit of looking into it myself, as has Filius, but obviously the more heads we put together on the topic, the better. Ideally I would love to speak with someone from the Department of Mysteries about it, as you have mentioned, but unfortunately they seem disinclined to discuss the subject."
"I can bring them up to you at once, Albus," she said, still exceedingly confused. If anyone could manage to take her 'dead end' research and put it to good use, it would be the Headmaster. "As soon as I get back, anyway. I was going to go to St. Mungo's to see if I could be of any help there, after I came here hoping to see... well, he was already gone when I got here."
"He was summoned at approximately the same time that I received word of the attack. He was not involved in it, nor did he know of it before hand. He very much hates any level of 'failure', and any time Voldemort does something like this, when he is unable to provide warning, he takes it very personally."
He regarded her in silence a few more moments, and seemed to come to some internal decision.
"Severus has been very closed with me of late on a great many things. I do not know what the standing is between the two of you, and I suspect he prefers it that way. I believe he thinks I 'meddle' too much."
The clear blue eyes regained some of their infamous twinkle as he said this, and she thought that it was a look that suited him far better than the powerful anger of moments before. He stood and went to a tall cabinet and retrieved a box that was nearly a foot and a half square, but only a few inches deep. It was made of some sort of metal and had a great many protective runes covering it. It was warded so heavily that she thought she could hear it hum with magic.
"I am distributing these among various locations. There are some things that only I know. Handy, for security purposes of course, but very dangerous for others involved if something happens to me. Minerva has one of these, Moody, the Ministry, and a particular safe in Gringotts just to name a few. The box cannot be opened while I live. You are more than welcome to try." He offered a mischievous smile, "I even let the Weasley twins have at one for the entirety of last summer, and they didn't so much as banish one ward.
"Inside the box is a Pensieve. This particular one contains information about Severus. Most importantly, proof of his innocence and his invaluable aid to the Order. If I survive this war, of course I will protect him from any ramifications of his actions personally. However, if something happens to me, even if our side 'wins', there are those on both sides who would find it to their advantage to discredit him, even after all the sacrifices he has made. There are few people whom I feel I can trust with the truth of this, whom I know will do everything necessary to make certain that it comes to light. I would like you to be the safe keeper of this one, if you are willing?"
It was one thing to hear Severus speaking of the possibilities of not surviving the war. He faced the Dark Lord continually in an exceedingly dangerous role. It was an entirely different thing to hear Albus Dumbledore, arguably the strongest wizard currently living, discuss such a thing. To not only hear him say it, but also to see proof of the preparations he was making for that possibility was incredibly sobering.
"Of course, Albus," she said accepting the heavy box carefully.
"Keep it concealed--you need not worry about someone breaking into it, as I have said, but I still wouldn't want it to be stolen. The locking charms only hinge on me--if I die before Voldemort is defeated, the information inside that Pensieve could be deadly for Severus to say the least."
"I understand."
"Well, then, I won't keep you any longer. If you like, I will accompany you to the hospital. I was going there shortly myself. I've been to the attack site, obviously," he gestured at his stained garments, "We were able to get everyone out. The students who weren't too severely injured for travel are slowly being Portkeyed to London by Ministry officials. The train is nearly a total loss, I don't know if it will be functional by start of term. I have no idea how we will manage to transport all those children back here by then if it's not."
He was clearly just ruminating aloud as he walked her to the door of his office.
"I'll be ready to leave in about fifteen minutes," she said.
"Excellent. I will meet you in the entrance hall then."
Harry didn't stay the full two weeks with his relations. Even though St. Mungo's was able to heal his broken bones, he was having headaches and nightmares that were unrelated to the injuries. Only a week after being deposited at the Dursley's, he was retrieved by Remus and brought to 12 Grimmauld Place. Dumbledore would have liked Harry to stay in Surrey longer, but Remus had taken a very proprietary view over Harry as well as Katrina, and put his foot down. He was unwilling to allow Harry to be miserable in the name of safety, as Sirius had been for the last months of his life.
Rowena spent a great deal of time at the house as well. Tonks had her normal duties as an Auror, and she and Remus both had important work for the Order. Rowena ended up being Katrina's primary minder during the day and often late into the evening, an arrangement that suited them both just fine. Her naptime also left Rowena free to once again spend time with Harry. Hermione and the Weasleys often popped in, so that he was rarely lonely. But they didn't live there, wanting to give the new Lupin family some semblance of privacy when possible.
The only truly distressing thing about the arrangement was that it was impossible for her to glean any news of Severus. Had she spent most of her time at the Hogwarts, she might have been able to get a snippet from Dumbledore. He was rarely to be seen at Headquarters.
It was Harry, in the end, who was able to provide her information on Severus' doings, but little of that was of a comforting nature.
"Rowena, do you reckon we ought to be keeping on with my Occlumency lessons?" he asked one day, only a few days after moving into the house.
She looked up at him from her notes. She had provided Albus with copies of all her notes that he had requested, but she had retained copies for herself as well. She didn't think there was anything more she could do with them, the equations all came up to dead-ends, but the ensuing frustration was very consuming and a good way to spend time without worrying about things even more out of her control than numbers on a page.
"Are you feeling up to it, Harry? You haven't had much time to recover from your injuries," she said gently, anxiously scanning his face. He had new glasses, though they were nearly the same as his old ones, which had been lost in the attack. He had the faded greenish yellow stain of an old bruise across the left side of his jaw and neck, disappearing into the collar of his T-shirt. It picked up the trail again down his left arm. She was certain he had sustained other injuries aside from the broken bones.
"I'm alright," he said, shrugging. "Those Healers at St. Mungo's can heal bones in about a minute. Mostly I'm just bored. I don't like to have so much time to just sit around and think. Besides, Professor Snape was letting me do exercises, and gave me permission—even instructions—to keep practicing over the summer, but I had to promise only to do it with another Occlumens."
"I hardly qualify," she said, shaking her head. "You outstripped me ages ago."
"You're good enough," Harry said, carelessly enough that it didn't sound like an insult. "I just need a 'ground'. I even specifically asked him if it was okay for you to do it, because I figured Dumbledore would make us work on Occlumency this summer, so it'd be a good time."
"I have no idea what you're talking about," she said, laughing slightly. "A ground?"
"Well, it's like this… I've sort of learned to get inside Voldemort's head—and yes, Professor Snape was watching and stuff. He helped me learn how to do it right. I have to sort of "turn off" my emotions, like I'm just observing inside there. The 'ground' helps me not get lost in it. Voldemort's so twisted; he has no concept of basic things like empathy and stuff. I have to stay completely 'blank', like a sponge, so He can't feel me in there. The 'ground' helps me come out of it and shake it off.
"Professor Snape even sort of did this thing where he would slip messages through me into Voldemort, kind of like, I dunno," he stopped and grinned, "Well, it was like he was trying to give Voldemort something of a conscience, and make him think it was his own idea."
"What?" she exclaimed, astounded.
"I know!" Harry laughed, "You don't know how hard it is for me to imagine Professor Snape teaching anyone… morals on how to treat other human beings, but the few things he tried seemed to work. Both times Voldemort stopped… well, what the Death Eaters were doing at the time. I'll spare you the details."
"Thank you," she said dryly.
"Anyway, Voldemort suddenly decided it was 'boring' and lost interest."
"Harry, I'm nowhere near as skilled as Professor Snape. I'd be terrified I'd muck something up," she said, shaking her head.
"No, you don't have to do anything. He was real explicit about that—I'm not supposed to DO anything, but I am allowed to practice just being that blank receiver or whatever it is, so long as I have a 'ground'. It's not hard. All you have to do is watch. I'll 'see' both sides—I'll 'see' your emotions and impressions, and I'll see whatever Voldemort is seeing at the time. The important thing is that I have contact with someone with normal emotions, grounding me. Voldemort won't be able to 'see' you or anything, because I'm like the buffer. Professor Snape said that if I didn't have a 'ground' I might go mad or lose 'moral clarity'."
Rowena laughed at the bemused expression on Harry's face.
"That's as close as he's ever come to conceding that I had anything like morals," Harry said grinning sheepishly. "Mostly he just thinks I'm a lawless dunderhead. He said something like, 'It would be deleterious for your already questionable moral standards to be further debased, Potter. Have a ground or don't do it'."
The slightly haughty set of the jaw and very condescending tone were such a strong impression of the man in question that Rowena couldn't help but laugh again. She could just hear Severus saying that precise thing. She must have still appeared hesitant to help him, because he felt the need to throw out the irresistible 'hook'.
"I might be able to get a glimpse of what Professor Snape is doing," he said, trying and failing to sound casual rather than wheedling.
"Okay," she said, unable to resist the chance to at least glimpse Severus. "But first I want proof that he really has given you permission to do this."
"Sure," said Harry, holding out his hands as though to say 'have at me'. "We can just practice the normal Occlumency for a bit, anyway. I don't like to do it unless I'm 'warmed up'."
He had improved greatly since Easter when Albus finally assumed his Occlumency training. More importantly, there was an easy comfort about his shields, even when she was actively trying to penetrate his defenses. It was as though it was requiring almost no effort on his part to keep her 'out', which it probably wasn't!
He did 'show' her the conversation with Severus just prior to the end of term, when he had indeed told the boy to continue to practice. It was interesting to 'see' Severus this way, through the filter of Harry's perceptions. In Harry's mind, his distinctive nose, rather than being the perfect sharp, aristocratic 'fit' to his angular face, was enormous, almost 'beaky' and distorted. His fine, lank hair appeared limp and lifeless, as it often appeared after an end of a long day spent in a confined space with 20 steaming cauldrons, but the oiliness was exaggerated. He looked thinner, gaunt and sallow rather than just naturally fair skinned. When he spoke to Harry, his slightly uneven teeth appeared exceedingly crooked, and the faint staining so common among tea-drinkers as to be barely noticeable to her perception, made his teeth look almost yellow through the filter of Harry's extreme dislike.
It made for amusing ruminations, but had no real bearing on the task at hand. They spent twenty minutes trading 'Legilimency' spells back and forth, testing each other's Occlumency. Rowena was feeling fatigued and had the beginnings of a headache just behind her eyes when Harry decided he was 'ready'.
He moved two of the more comfortable over-stuffed chairs in the room so that they were facing each other. He sat in one and fidgeted for quite some time before deciding he was 'comfortable'. Rowena doubted very much that Severus put up with these antics, but she indulged him. She sat in the opposite chair and watched as he relaxed and his face became flat and blank. At his signal, she 'connected' with him using Legilimency, her wand hand resting gently on the arm of the chair so she wouldn't become fatigued maintaining the connection. This had to be MUCH easier for Severus since he didn't need a wand.
This was different, because she was not trying to get 'through' his shields, and his mind was indeed completely 'blank' to her. It felt not unlike sitting inside a dark and empty theatre waiting for the entertainment to begin.
Then suddenly there were images, sensations and emotional impressions, so strong and so dark that she gasped aloud at the sheer malevolence of them. It was like suddenly falling out of a pleasant, if rather dull dream, into the depths of the most terrifying nightmare.
She could see a room, dark and dank, and she could even taste the acrid scent of fear on the air—a distorted contradiction of sensations impossible to separate one from the other. Someone found the taste pleasant, like ambrosia, and her stomach roiled in nausea. At first she tried to quell her disgust, until she remembered that was why she was here, 'along for the ride' to share her 'normal' emotions with Harry so that he didn't lose himself in this.
She could now tell that she was 'seeing' through the 'eyes' of the Dark Lord, as Harry made himself the conduit. Everything seemed elongated, tall and thin. The shapes were distorted, and she remembered someone describing his eyes as having cat-like pupils.
There was a fire in a large hearth, scattered furniture, and a few tables. It might have once been a large, fine drawing room of a manor house like the Malfoy's. The carpeting, furniture, and tapestries were all covered in dark stains of unknown origin. Heavy metal rings hung from the ceiling in various places, as well as dangling incongruously off of the arms of chairs or the corners of the tables. Rowena did not even allow herself to speculate on the use of those rings, clearly strong enough to be sturdy anchors for restraints.
At present, the room was nearly empty. The mind surveying the room was almost giddy with sadistic pleasure. One lone figure stood near a cauldron in a corner, though currently the individual leaned back against the wall, retching violently, even as one hand fumbled through pockets of his robes.
The Dark Lord laughed in sadistic delight.
"Dear me, Severus. It seems you have been right to avoid all my generously provided food after all. One of your brothers must be jealous of the attention I am bestowing upon you. I shall have to find out who it was and chastise them appropriately.
"Tell me, are you in a great deal of pain?" he moved closer, tongue tasting the scent of the air like a snake so that the perceptions felt odd. Rowena's heart clenched in fear and horror. When the Dark Lord was close enough to see Severus clearly, she could see how horrible he looked. Even with Harry trying to suppress all his own impressions just to be a conduit, Severus looked gaunt, like flesh stretched over bone, and almost as pale as the paper-white hand that reached out to touch his face in a gesture that was a disgusting parody of tenderness. Dark circles under his sunken eyes and the papery-thin appearance of his skin spoke of dehydration even with her rusty and limited healing knowledge.
"What is the poison, Severus? Tell me how you feel." The Dark Lord forced his own way into Severus' mind, making no attempt to be subtle or gentle. Rowena perceived the sensation of crumbling that was how she interpreted the experience when Harry's shields fell under her onslaught, and she gasped again in fear—had the Dark Lord just broken through Severus' defenses? Something in the poison he was suffering under?
But what the Dark Lord saw was 'only' normal fear, pain, self-preservation, concern to get to the antidote in time to make the next modification to the potion within the rigid time constraints, nothing that betrayed him, though it 'felt' as though his mind was laid bare.
Severus seemed to find what he was looking for, as he pulled a small vial from a pocket and consumed the contents in one swallow, breathing heavily. His glittering black eyes somehow seemed flat, inscrutable, more emotionless than Rowena had ever seen him. The Dark Lord's frustration felt through the odd 'link' made her realize that this extreme impassivity was the manifestation of his skills and the horrible game of chance that he played.
"I do not know the poison, Lord. It was not one of mine. It was impressively painful, which is one of the few complimentary things I can say about it."
His voice strengthened as he spoke, so that he sounded utterly professional, calmly discussing the merits—or in this case, the many faults, of a new concoction.
"I suspect a neurotoxin of some sort, with very rapid absorption, though there was also some corrosiveness which caused rapid gastric objection, betraying the poison's presence before it had time to be fatal, or even significantly harmful. It is extremely coarse, utterly without subtlety. If I were allowed to teach poisons, this one would not receive a passing mark. The only positive comment I can make is that it blended well with the pulp of the apple—it must have been carefully injected to avoid my notice, though it would need to be to hide its many faults.
"It was also appallingly clichéd—a poisoned apple? Utterly without creativity. I shall have to study it further before I can give you its precise properties, but I would not recommend adding this one to your routine stores.
"Fortunately, I recognized the effects and keep plenty of antidotes handy. I fear if your new Potions Master is successful in getting rid of me as his greatest rival, this potion might not be completed."
A high, cold laugh filled the room as Severus straightened up, adjusting his robes and stepped to the cauldron as calmly as though he stood in his classroom and hadn't been fighting for his life a few moments before.
"Severus, you are greatly amusing, in addition to your usefulness. I would be most put out if you expired before you could finish my potion. But then we do have another hurdle to cross between now and Halloween, don't we? How do I know I can trust you? What prevents you from poisoning me? What proof do you offer me of your loyalty, my slippery friend—you, who make Lucius appear guileless and forthcoming?"
Severus bowed low, yet managed to appear haughtier upon rising than he had done before the obeisance.
"My Lord, I know of no other means to prove my loyalty to you than I have so far done. Fifteen years I have lived in the bowels of that filthy castle, playing toady to that Muggle-loving fool, so as to be able to offer you some scrap of information and insight into his actions. My talents could have been better spent elsewhere, yet I remained where you commanded me, subverting my own ambition and desires. I have no greater gift to give than that."
"So you say, Severus, so you say," said the voice, and the perspective changed as the Dark Lord turned away to move back across the room, seating himself in a high-backed chair. "I am certain that I can think of something. It will just take time. Shall I summon the house elf to bring you something to eat? Lucius tells me you are even avoiding the splendor of his table. You will be of no use to me if you starve before the potion is complete."
"I thank you, Lord, no. I believe I have taken enough risks for today," Severus' voice managed to carry the tone of dry amusement, as though poisoning attempts were a matter for levity. Perhaps in this situation, they were, because the high, cold laugh filled the room again.
"Suit yourself, Severus. When do you next need to meet with the fool to maintain your ruse?"
"He believes me to be attending a series of Potions conferences over the summer. I told him I would return once every two weeks to see if I was 'needed'. This coincides with when I will need to obtain fresh ingredients for the potion, so I can be within my quarters without rousing suspicion."
"Ah, pity. We will have to be cautious this summer to see that he does not decide you are 'needed', then. Very well, the excuse is adequate. I expect you to try and learn what you can of his plans while you are there, of course. Find where he is hiding Potter, if you can—he's already been removed from his relations' home. He wasn't there long—he may well be vulnerable to me now if I can find him before he returns to the school."
"Of course, my Lord."
Harry blinked and shook his head, and the connection was broken. They both sat in their respective chairs, pale, sweaty and breathing heavily. Rowena managed to find her voice first, though it was small and frightened.
"Harry… are you okay?"
"Yeah. I've seen worse, actually. Professor Snape says they don't generally do the worst stuff when he's around. That was bad enough though… bloody hell—he might have just died right then while we watched."
Rowena couldn't say anything at all. She only nodded and buried her face in her hands, fighting off the wave of emotional distress and fatigue that wanted her to burst into tears on the spot.
"I'm sorry, Rowena. Maybe that was a bad idea. I really do need to practice, and I thought you might like to see the Professor. I had no idea how bad things were for him. I… er… I think I'm gonna go up and hang out in my room a while. Are you okay?"
When she nodded again, he left the room and she gradually managed to get herself back under control. Once the initial storm of panic and helplessness had passed, however, she stood up with brisk energy. At least NOW she knew of something she could do to be useful… and she only had a week in which to do it.
Severus arrived at the castle with his usual brisk strides, billowing robes and disdainful grace, though as the school was all but deserted there was no one to appreciate the effect.
Upon arrival into the Headmaster's office, he fell, exhausted, into one of the plush chairs and instantly grabbed a large apple from a fruit bowl on one of the low tables. He literally sprawled in the chair; his long legs stretched out before him, for a moment utterly relaxed, here in the one place where he felt completely safe to be so.
"Well, they haven't been over-feeding you," Albus said lightly, though his searching gaze was worried.
"You look twenty years older yourself," Severus snapped back between bites of the apple. "Lovely, relaxing Holiday we're having, isn't it?"
"Did you give Harry instructions to practice eavesdropping on Voldemort?" Albus asked without further preamble.
"A simplistic term, Albus, but yes—though only with someone who could act as a ground. Don't tell me, he's managed to botch those instructions already," Severus snarled as he threw the apple core into the hearth and grabbed another. "That would just be icing on the cake."
"No, no, he's been practicing, but his 'partner' was uncertain whether the directive was legitimate."
"A valid concern considering the source. He has actually been relatively cooperative recently. I hold no hope that it will last, but I am pleasantly surprised to hear that he has followed those instructions without direct supervision." Something in Albus' gaze roused his suspicion—the man was too bloody cheerful for the situation. "Why?"
"Apparently there is some concern over your nutritional status. They heard enough to know to expect you to come sometime yesterday or today, and so there's been a small package left for you," Albus said, his moustache quivering as he tried to hold back a smile.
"I can't take anything that obvious in with me, Albus," he snapped, "You know that! It's part of the game. How long will Severus allow himself to starve before desperation drives him to try something… how can one tamper with a piece of fruit with the skin still intact? Never mind the ridiculous fairytales about poisoned apples!"
He threw the next core into the fire as well and was about to reach for a pear from the bowl when Albus pushed forward a thick leather case.
"Open it," Albus said, cheerfully. "It's brand-new, and it's yours. It's already been keyed to you, I can't open it."
He eyed the Headmaster suspiciously but stood and approached the case.
It was a valise especially designed to carry potions ingredients—more specifically, extremely volatile and explosive ingredients. It opened like an enormous book, right down the center. Each 'side' had three heavy leaden divider 'pages', and each 'page' had two rows of vials carefully secured and padded into the case.
It was actually a very fine version of a similar case that he already owned and that he had indeed brought back with him from Malfoy's to restock. Few people were foolish enough to meddle with another Potions Master's ingredients case. Not only were they enormously heavily warded, but they were often set so that if vials were touched in unfamiliar order or removed with the left hand rather than the right the whole thing would explode and shower the meddler with the entirety of the case's contents. Since each case was specific to the Master who owned it, and Potions Masters were notoriously paranoid and obsessive, it was almost unheard of for anyone to even think about tampering with the secrets contained within.
He lifted out the first vial of the first row from the second 'page', intending to see if the vials were empty, or if this 'gift' was given fully 'stocked'. However, as soon as he had the vial out of the case and in his hand, it became a very large ham and swiss with mustard on rye sandwich. He was so startled he nearly dropped it—but not quite.
"What is this?" he asked, turning to glare at the Headmaster. "I am now a charity case like the werewolf?"
"You might want to read the note before you scoff at the gift, my friend," Albus said gently, still clearly trying not to display his Cheshire-cat grin.
He set the sandwich down on a blank piece of parchment on Albus' desk and looked more closely at the case. Tucked in between two of the vials was a small bit of parchment.
Severus,
Jealousy forgiven, music selection greatly enjoyed.
All of these vials will resume their natural shape when you touch them. If anyone else touches them, they'll get a nasty shock like my Navitas Texi. From left to right as though reading a book, the first 'page' is eggs, kippers, scones and the like, breakfast fare. The next two 'pages' are meat pies and sandwiches. The next two are fruits and vegetables, raw, skin on for most of them. The very last page is breads and rolls on the top, biscuits and puddings on the bottom—Katrina insisted on those. She was remembering our aborted 'junk food picnic' when we baked the biscuits. The very bottom most vial on the right hand side has an Endless Water charm on it. It will stay a vial, but pour it out and it will refill at once with fresh water.
I can't claim all the cookery, though perhaps knowing my familial weakness in Potions, you will find that a boon. Molly Weasley helped, though she didn't know what it was for. The preservation charms are mine, and all the ingredients were purchased fresh and inspected by Alastor before use.
My mum always told me the way to a man's heart was through his stomach.
Be careful. Come BACK.
Yours,
Rowena.
When he finished reading the parchment, it disappeared with a small 'pop' to leave him holding a small square of treacle fudge. Severus' tired face softened and he exchanged an amused look with Albus before popping the fudge into his mouth and flopping carelessly back into the chair he had been using earlier. It seemed there was no hiding things from the Headmaster anymore at any rate.
"Well, then, it appears the starvation issue is settled," he said airily as he picked up the ham sandwich and bit into it.
Albus stopped trying to suppress his grin, and conjured his tea-service, pouring for both of them as Severus all but inhaled the sandwich.
"Isn't there some old Muggle saying about… behind every successful man there's a good woman?" Albus teased.
"I wouldn't know. I am not versed in old Muggle sayings, nor have I any desire to be," Severus said loftily. "I still say that bloody Hat put her in the wrong House."
Albus smiled at him, completing the impression, had anyone been there to see, of a doting father enjoying the company of a favorite son.
When Severus finished his sandwich, though, the time for light banter was gone, and they set to work. He still had to restock his real ingredient valise—and his antidotes, though hopefully now he wouldn't go through those as quickly. He would have to return to the Snake Pit very soon.
AN: I will be away from internet capabilities over the Holiday weekend, so I am posting the three chapters I have beta'd and done before I go. I have through chapter 53 completed and back from one beta, and hope to be able to post them all in rapid succession after my period of AFK. It would make my day if my email inbox was crammed full of your comments when I return. grin