Disclaimer: All Harry Potter people, places, things, and ideas (all Harry Potter nouns) belong to J. K. Rowlings. All Elf-related topics, the Elvish language, references to staff magic, and any other Lord of the Rings nouns belong to J. R. R. Tolkien and the Elvish dictionary at Nevrast. The titles of the chapters were inspired by "Once Upon a December" from the cartoon movie Anastasia. Professor Heryn O'Sheen is mine.
Chapter 5: Things my heart used to know.
Minerva had decided to take a brief walk before breakfast. As she passed the library, she raised an eyebrow at a form curled up on the floor near the doors, wearing a long-sleeved sapphire-blue nightgown. She tried to kneel down, knowing how difficult it would be to stand again. Placing a hand on the woman's shoulder, she attempted to wake her.
"Moira, Moira are you alright?" the Transfiguration professor asked.
The Elvish woman looked up at her and blinked a few times. She winced when she sat up and tried to rub the stiffness out of her shoulders. "Good morning, Professor McGonagall. I'm glad you woke me. I did not hear my alarm go off and it feels as though I spent the night on the floor."
Minerva smiled compassionately. "Dear, it would seem that you did. I wonder how you came to be out here though. Do you think you could have been sleepwalking?"
She shrugged as she stood. "I don't know. I remember going to sleep in my own bed and then waking up here."
As Minerva glanced up at the Elvish woman, she looked at her expectantly. "I hate to ask this, but would you mind helping me up?"
Lending the professor a hand, she pulled her to her feet. "I'm sorry, I should have offered. I probably ought to head back to my room and freshen up, yes?"
"Of course, dear. I shall see you at breakfast," Minerva stated as she continued her walk.
Severus was on his way to the Great Hall when he noticed the Elvish woman slipping inside her quarter. Since she was wearing her nightgown, she was probably sleepwalking, he assessed. As he approached the door, he spotted Minerva. She meandered over to him before he could enter. "Yes?" he asked.
"I think our guest is sleepwalking again and I was wondering if I should send her to you for a dreamless sleep potion," Minerva explained.
He shook his head. "The normal recipe for a dreamless sleep potion never helped her with the sleepwalking. She had her own modified recipe that she made herself. I neither have the recipe, nor do I know its whereabouts. Aside from that, she was once Potions Mistress and I doubt that she has forgotten how to brew a simple sleeping potion," he told her curtly as he found his seat for breakfast.
Fortunately for both, Severus and the Elvish woman were not sitting next to each other during the meal. As they ate their blueberry pancakes, Minerva leaned toward the Elvish woman sitting next to her. "It is Thursday and Severus has classes, as you may have already guessed. You ought to search the library on your own for things and Severus will join you later," she suggested.
The other woman nodded in agreement. As she headed off to the library at the conclusion of breakfast, she glanced over her shoulder at Severus, noticing his grouchy pace and wondering if he walked like that every day. Severus was unaware of her observations as he stormed through the corridors to his classroom.
Hours later, time seemed to have slowed to a sickening crawl. As if having bungling first-years was not bad enough, three students in his N.E.W.T. level class had managed to blow up their cauldrons, covering themselves and the ceiling in the pink liquid of failed dental hygiene potions. Filch had been two busy to take care of the mess immediately, resulting in the pink mess dripping from the ceiling as Severus taught his next class.
The final straw came when one second-year student in his last class of the day accidentally brewed fog. The cloud spread itself throughout the floor of the classroom in minutes. Severus glared at the class after giving the student detention. He was stepping down from his platform to investigate the offending cauldron when he tripped, due to the fog. A few snickers were heard as he stood and walked over to the table.
"If I hear one more word from anyone, no matter the house, that person will loose two hundred points," he spat.
It was unfortunate that the fog caused one timid student to sneeze. Severus turned rapidly and almost sneered. The day had gone on for too long and he broke his fearsome glare to glance at his pocket watch. "Class dismissed," he barked.
As the students quietly filed out and Filch appeared by the door, waiting to clean up the messes, Severus sauntered off toward the library, stopping by the kitchen first. The Elvish woman had been busily pouring over the texts from the previous day. Severus cleared his throat and she quickly turned in her seat to face him.
"Professor Snape, are you taking a break, or are your classes finished?" she asked.
"I'm through trying to teach something useful to complete idiots for the day, if that's what you mean. Apparently you've spent the entire day here," he observed.
She nodded as her stomach growled. "It would seem that I have lost track of time. Lunch was several hours ago."
He took the seat across from her and handed her a plate with a ham and cheese sandwich. "I figured that you would forget about lunch. You might not recall the habits of your metabolism, but I do. If you don't eat within the next hour, you'll probably feint. I doubt that those muggle nurses that treated you told you anything about that."
Raising an eyebrow, she stared down at the sandwich. "The librarian let you bring a sandwich here? When I passed her, she seemed far too stringent to allow for that."
He grinned wryly. "That's why I waited until she had stepped out for a moment to bring it."
The woman at the table smirked. "Thank you for the sandwich. Care to tell me how your day went as I eat it?"
He scoffed. "You'd be wasting your time. The students were worse than usual though. I had this horrid pink concoction dripping from my ceiling, and then I had fog floating all over my floor," he explained.
Smiling at him, she took another bite of her sandwich before speaking. "I wish I could recall something from when, as you have told me, I taught Potions."
I wish you could remember too, he thought to himself. "We need to resume our search," he stated abruptly.
She sighed, confused at his behavior, and turned back to her book. "I can't find it. I'm close, but I cannot seem to find the reason for the thief's coming to the school."
He eyed the books almost impatiently. "Well, what did you find? You did say you were close."
Of the three books stacked next to her on the dusty wooden table, she grabbed the one on the bottom and steadied the other two. "This is a history book from the fifteenth century that dates back to Middle Earth," she paused and opened the book to a page she had marked. "When the decision was made to switch from staff magic to wand magic, those items from ancient days that were not destroyed became property of certain cities. The nobles in charge of the cities placed the items in hidden storage rooms or deep within castle walls and floors."
"It sounds to me as though you have found something useful," he remarked.
She nodded. "I have to a point. In one of the other books, the construction of Hogwarts with references to Isenguard is discussed also. However, what seems to elude me is what could be hidden here."
He grabbed a volume blanketed in cobwebs and seated himself opposite from her. "I might as well help you," he grumbled. As they continued the search, Severus wondered if Minerva or Albus had obtained any more information relating to the thief.
Relief washed over Minerva at the end of the day. Though she greatly enjoyed teaching, exhaustion had been plaguing her. A drafty chill in the castle did not help matters. In the morning, her hands were shaking and to cover the problem, she told a few students to write on the board. She told them that the class needed to pay more attention and they could be called on at any time to write on the board.
She made her way to the infirmary after her classes, hoping that Poppy could help her. The medwitch glanced up when she entered. "Minerva, I didn't expect to see you today. You usually make a point to avoid the infirmary. Is the cane giving you trouble?"
The Transfiguration professor shook her head. "It's not the cane. I think my arthritis is acting up again. I haven't had trouble with that in a long time. I've also been tired and I can't seem to stay warm today," she admitted.
Poppy moved toward a shelf and pulled out a blue vile. "Take a sip of this. It should cause you to emit a colored aura and I'll use that for the diagnosis," she stated, handing the other woman the vile.
Minerva raised an eyebrow at the substance and then took a sip. Poppy eyed her carefully and turned her head from side to side, as if unsure of the diagnosis. Then she walked over to her and took the vial. "Oh dear," she uttered.
Glancing at her with near panic, Minerva spoke. "It's that bad? Poppy, what is the problem?"
After dumping out the blue vile in the sink, the medwitch headed back to her shelf to retrieve another one. "I'm sorry, Minerva. That potion was out of date. My comment had nothing to do with you."
Minerva breathed a sigh of relief. "Just don't scare me like that again please."
"I won't, I promise," she paused and watched as Minerva drank from the new vial. "Well, fortunately you aren't coming down with anything. But those stunners did a great deal of damage. If you want to get your strength back, you need to eat better and sleep for a full eight hours."
The Transfiguration professor sighed and shook her head. "Poppy, you know I wasn't even sleeping for eight hours as a teenager. What makes you think I can sleep that long now?"
Simply smiling, the medwitch grabbed a few light green vials from her desk. "These are vitamin potions and should be taken twice a day, before breakfast and after supper. Regarding your sleeping, if you don't, you won't have enough energy to teach. Or worse, Albus could worry about you and lecture me about reminding you to take better care of yourself."
Minerva chuckled. "He does tend to be a bit of a mother hen sometimes, doesn't he?"
Handing her the vials, Poppy whispered, "Only to you. He doesn't worry like that for just anyone."
Vials in her possession, Minerva left the infirmary to leave them in her rooms. After dropping them off, she walked to the Headmaster's study to meet Albus and discuss the current problem of the thief and his whereabouts. She found him leafing through a few recent copies of the Daily Prophet. He looked up as she approached him and smiled broadly.
Setting the paper down, he strolled over to her. "How are you, my dear?"
She smiled politely, but blushed when he kissed her hand. "I'm fine. What are all these newspapers doing here?" she questioned, looking at issues of the Daily Prophet sitting in various piles.
He led her over to the sofa to sit next to him. "I will explain everything while we have tea," he told her.
"That would be fine," she agreed.
After they each held a cup of cinnamon spice tea in their hands, he sipped his tea and showed her the newspaper he had been previously looking at. "I have been trying to peruse through these papers to find out if there are any mentions of a thief stealing ancient relics. I was hoping to find a physical description of him."
Nearly an hour passed before either had found anything useful. Minerva had started from papers dating back to the time of Voldemort's first demise and was about to put down an eleven-year old paper when an article on the back page caught her eye. She moved toward Albus and put the paper in front of him.
"I think I've found something. This article mentions a figure lurking around one of the Middle Earth museums that was closed down several years ago. It might be a start," she said hopefully. He nodded and they renewed the search with a new surge of energy.
Little by little they began to collect other articles, clipping them out and setting them aside in a box for further investigation. As they began to examine the articles, they looked for similarities of perpetrators. Albus would read the physical descriptions and Minerva would write them on a pad of paper she conjured. Soon they had developed a list of characteristics that kept reoccurring.
"It would seem that whomever we are looking for has sandstone-brown hair, stands 5'7'' by the American measuring system, is a male, a wizard which means he could have attended Hogwarts or one of the other schools at one time, and has a keen interest in Middle Earth artifacts," Minerva told him.
"Hmm, though he is on the smaller side, the description could fit several people," Albus mentioned.
Minerva nodded, but then smiled. "Yes, but this next detail would not: he has a purple discoloration on most of the left side of his face. One of the articles surmises that the mark may have been chemical-related."
"That last bit of information may prove to be the most useful," Albus added.
As they picked through more papers, they noticed something odd. The information on the individual they were looking for stopped entirely in an eight-year-old paper. He was not described again until an article in a paper only two months out of date. As they looked at more recent articles, the man showed up again.
"I wonder where he went for eight years," she commented.
"Prison would be my guess, probably for something other than burgling," he surmised. "What else can we find about his most recent activities?"
The paper sitting on Minerva's lap slipped off and she picked it back up, leafing through it to find the page she had lost. "Here it is, the incident that the Ministry of Magic told us about. What we need to do is find relationships with the recent robberies and attempts."
"Quite right. I am surprised though, that if he was arrested, we have not seen it mentioned in what we have looked through," he added.
Suddenly a thought crossed her mind. "Albus, if he had been arrested in the magic world, the Daily Prophet would have said something about it. Assuming that he did spend eight years in prison, perhaps he went to a muggle prison."
Albus nodded. "You could be right, my dear. We should check the muggle newspapers for arrests that took place eight years ago."
Using the owlry and calling in a few favors from friends, Albus soon received several muggle newspapers from the necessary time period. Looking through them, Minerva found what they had been looking for: a description of the man and details of an arrest. "It says here in the London Times that Blake Holt was arrested for stealing three valuable paintings," she paused and set the paper down for a moment. "As we know, he may not have given the police his real name. I have something else of interest," she flipped to the continuation of the article. "He had a tattoo of a green snake."
"I suppose it would be possible that, assuming that he attended Hogwarts, he also could have been in Slytherin," Albus concluded. "Was there anything else?"
"He was twenty-eight when arrested. Now he would be roughly thirty-six. I wonder why I don't recall seeing a student who fits his description before. Though he sounded almost plain, I don't think that I could forget a student with a purple blotch on his face," the Transfiguration professor remarked.
"It could be that the chemical incident that caused it happened after he graduated," Albus pointed out.
She put the newspaper on the coffee table and sat back on the sofa, rubbing the stiff spot on her neck. "I suppose it's been a long day," she commented.
To her surprise, the man next to her reached over and began gently massaging her neck and shoulders. She relaxed and let a comfortable sigh slip out. "My dear, I haven't seen you this tense in a while. Let me help you a bit," Albus offered.
As Albus continued to give her a pleasant massage, she wished she had more time in her day to relax. I wonder if Severus could make a nerve-calming potion. I could definitely use- She suddenly turned and faced Albus. "What if it wasn't a chemical accident? What if it was a potion accident?"
"It is possible. Who could he have had for Potions if the accident occurs shortly before he would have graduated?" Albus inquired.
Minerva took the age and quickly calculated the numbers in her head. When she found the answer, she slowly faced Albus again. "He would have had Heryn O'Sheen."
Albus sighed heavily. "Which means she is probably the only one who knows his true identity."
"Unfortunately she can't tell us much at the moment because she doesn't remember," Minerva pointed out.
"Then we will just have to find another way to resolve the situation. I wish I had an idea of what sort of patterns to look for regarding the thief's activities," Albus conveyed.
She moved to examine a few more papers. "There has to be a correlation between the places he went to."
After a few more minutes of searching, Albus' head shot up from the paper he had been previously buried in. "I think I've got it! Remember that map our guest showed us when she first arrived? The places the thief has been to were all on the map."
Following his train of thought, she continued. "Which means that we might guess where he will strike next by looking at the map!"
"I believe she left it here and I put it onto of my desk. We may have to move quite a few newspapers to get it," he remarked.
They marched over to his desk and pushed the papers off until they beheld the map. Minerva uttered a cleaning spell and the papers stacked themselves on the other side of the room. Comparing the clippings, they identified the places on the map and finally noticed with a pang of discomfort where the thief was going.
"He's headed for Hogwarts," Minerva stated dimly. "Is there any way to know how much time we have to prepare a defense?"
Albus took her hands in his for a moment and shook his head. "I don't know, my dear."
After taking a second to glance at the clock, she leaned toward him and gave him a peck on the cheek. "We should go to dinner. With all that happened last year, the students will worry if we are missing."
He returned the kiss and smiled lightly. "You are correct as usual. I imagine we also need to collect Severus and our guest from the library. I know she at least spent the entire day there because I noticed Severus brining a plate with a sandwich to the library."
Severus paced back and forth in front of the book-laden table. "We need to think about this logically. What does a thief steal?"
"What kind of a question is that?" the Elvish woman complained.
He sighed and dealt her his customary glare of irritation. "Woman, it is exactly the sort of question that must be asked. Now, what does a thief steal?" he repeated.
After a long moment of silence, she answered him. "A thief likes to steal what he or she can sell for a higher price, namely car parts, jewelry, certain technological items like televisions, and music CDs."
Glancing at the book that had mentioned staff magic and then returning to her, he was prepared to discuss a new idea. "What if," he paused and leaned closer to her, "the thief wanted weapons?"
She rubbed her chin with her index finger. "I suppose it is possible, but how does that apply here?" Then understanding flashed in her violet eyes. "It applies if the thief were looking for a staff!"
He nodded emphatically. "Exactly, there is probably a staff hidden here somewhere and as you know, a staff can be an incredibly destructive weapon."
Folding her hands in front of her, she leaned back in her chair. "Well, now that we have an idea of what to look for, how should be go about finding it?"
"Perhaps one of these books will give us a hint," he suggested.
Several yellowed pages later, they were no closer to finding a solution. The Elvish woman shut the book she had been staring at with a musty smack. "I don't have the energy to look anymore today. I don't know why we cannot find what we need, but I am too tired to continue at the moment," she expressed.
He snorted and set his book next to hers, an old leather book on the bookshelf next to her catching his eye. "I am surprised at you. Usually you're not one to give up easily," he commented.
She sighed heavily, a few strands of copper hair flying loose from her bun. "I have spent the entire day looking over this material and I am just barely closer to an answer. I suppose I shouldn't be surprised that, in a search like this one, the book did not simply jump off the shelf and land in front of me."
Abruptly the leather book about magical artifacts floated from the shelf landed in front of her with a soft thud. "You were saying?" he smirked.
She crossed her arms and raised an eyebrow as she looked up at him. "I know you did that, but it looks as though you might have spotted what we need."
The leather book was old indeed, old enough to contain a list of where certain magical items had gone. Finally the Elvish woman found what she had been searching for: a reference to a staff kept at Hogwarts. She jumped up and pointed out the passage to Severus. "This part discusses a staff that was dangerous enough to be broken into five parts. According to this page, it was hidden in what is now Hogwarts."
"That takes us back to your earlier question: how do we find it?" he reminded.
She thought for a moment. "There is a locating spell that uses a person to locate the object in question. Could we try that?" she suggested.
"I suppose it might work. I know the spell you mean," he responded.
"Then I volunteer," she said simply.
When he cast the spell, a rosy glow from his wand flashed in front of her. "Well? Do you know where it is now?" he questioned.
She tried to saturate her thoughts with the staff and imagined herself roaming through the castle, closing her eyes. After a solid five minutes she opened her eyes and released the breath she had been holding. "I can't find anything. The staff pieces might be protected from searching spells."
"So much for that idea," he grumbled.
"At least we know what we need to find. We'll try to find more clues tomorrow," she added.
As they stood to leave, they were greeted by Albus and Minerva. "We thought someone ought to remind you two about dinner," the Transfiguration teacher relayed.
Severus glanced over at the Elvish woman and then back to Minerva. "Thank you, Minerva, but as you can see we were already headed that way ourselves."
It was by accident that the Potions Master found himself sitting next to the Elvish woman again, but for a reason he could not define, it did not bother him as much. They ate in companionable silence and he watched with amusement as she skillfully picked the olives out of her lasagna with her fork. She never did like those, he thought to himself. When the meal was finished, he left and sauntered toward his rooms. However, he stopped abruptly when someone called to him from behind. He turned to face the Elvish woman.
She pulled out a necklace she wore that held a claddagh on the end of the necklace. "I don't mean to interrupt you while you're on your way, but I have one quick question. Perhaps you can tell me how I came to be wearing this. The nurses said I had it with me when I was brought to them."
He gasped, having almost forgotten about it. Had it not been for that idiotic battle, we would have been married by now. "I'm surprised you kept it all these years. I gave you that a few weeks before the battle. It was a promise for- never mind. I've said too much already."
Before he could stand to leave, she grabbed his sleeve. "Perhaps you will tell me someday, yes?"
"Someday," he said quietly as he walked toward the dungeons and she headed to her own rooms. She sighed regretfully, wishing that he would finally tell her some of the many things that she could sense him hiding.
(my thanks to Always Hopeful, Quill of Minerva, and excessivelyperky for reviews :D)