Eighteen sickles and forty-two knuts. That was… He wished desperately his calculator would work at Hogwarts. Despite one of the three highest tested IQs in England, magical or not, he wasn't very quick to math in his head. Whatever the answer, it was a lot of metal for poor Mjollnir to carry four hundred miles, and not nearly enough to help cover the rent. He considered getting someone to change it, but cutting his owl's load wasn't worth sending home two or three coins instead of the pile in front of him. Pride was as nonsensical as meaningless, but he still had quite a bit of it.
Mildly disgusted with himself, he bundled the coins into a sock and shoved it into an envelope with a short, evasive note. Pride had overstayed its welcome.
"Here, Molly." He tied the package to the elderly bird's leg, giving her beak an apologetic stroke. "Stay home for a week and rest once you get this there, but you better hurry. Mum'll probably fall short again." Not that a handful of pocket change would change that.
Mjollnir hooted her understanding. He watched her disappear into the night with glum detachment. Some deeply buried sense of fairness told him that an exceptionally brilliant fifteen year old shouldn't be making ends meet between homework and detention, ideals were too abstract for his taste.
For a few minutes, he slumped onto the table in front of him, heavy locks of black hair falling in his eyes. He couldn't find a comfortable way to slump in defeated dejection, however, and sat up again. Yes, life was lousy, but there wasn't much to be done about it.
"Hey, that paper done?"
"Has been for an hour." He passed three rolls of parchment to his customer. "No worries, it's all there. Give Nott his, too."
Ignoring the answer, if there was one, he rose and slipped out of the common room. Though he was allowed to roam the school as he desired for another half-hour, the residual guilt from his unsavory source of income made him jumpy.
He didn't have much of a sense of honor, but doing people's homework for them, whatever the cause, violated what conscience he had. It satisfied his vindictive streak to know the lazy bastards would all fail their exams, but he still didn't like it. And now that it wouldn't even cover the holes in the family finances, he was pleased to abandon the venture.
He'd been periodically petitioning Dumbledore for permission to get an afternoon and weekends job in Hogsmead for the last three years. He couldn't bring himself to admit the reason, though, and the headmaster had always refused him. Were he to divulge the disgraceful truth, there might be a chance. Or, about as likely, Dumbledore might be so tired of the constant interruptions that the long-sought acquiescence might be procured.
"Licorice wand," he said dully, eyes languidly following the gargoyle as it leapt aside. He couldn't even remember where he'd learned the password.
He paused outside the office itself, hearing several voices. He didn't want to interrupt Dumbledore. Squinting, he saw only the headmaster's thin silhouette through the frosted glass, and a fire devoid of floo powder. Suddenly timid, he waited a long moment before he rapped the door.
"Come in," said Dumbledore's pleasant voice, the others going silent.
Forcing himself not to hesitate, he pushed the door open and stepped inside. "Severus, to what do I owe the particularly late pleasure?"
He glanced down at his watch, only to find it had stopped working again. Still, he was fairly sure of the time. "It's only—"
"A mere jest." Dumbledore made a slight adjustment to one of his dozens of little silver things, very few of which seemed to have much of a purpose. Looking satisfied, he waved it away, and the contraption skittered away on its seven brittle legs. "Now, as to my question…?"
Still somewhat disconcerted by the polite patience he'd encountered in the headmaster for five years now, Severus took the longest moment he dared to compose his thoughts. Staring pointedly at the tips of his shoes (and noticing a growing hole in the left one that would need a lot of spellotape), he poured out his request too fast for even himself to understand. "Dad's still out of work and Mum's job doesn't pay enough. May I please have permission to find work in town after lessons?"
Dumbledore waited a moment, presumably to pluck the individual words out of Severus' rapid tirade. "…Is this why you've been asking me this all along?"
Eyes still riveted on the hole in his shoe, he nodded.
"Why didn't you tell me?" Dumbledore's gaze finally drew Severus', and the soft understanding he read there loosened his tongue.
"Usually it's not such a big deal, but I couldn't get my usual job this summer, and the vault's empty. Even with me and Hector sharing books…" He shook his head, pulling himself out of the tangent. "Would you want people to know your Dad can't support his family?"
"No, I certainly didn't, and I was twice your age before I found the courage to confess." Severus inhaled sharply, not knowing what reply he could possibly make. "Speaking of Hector, where does he stand in this matter?"
"I don't think he knows. I mean… I never…" He trailed off. Though Hector was his younger brother by the slightest technicality (Severus had been born two minutes before midnight, his twin three after), he had always felt a protectiveness that suggested years of difference. And Hector earned it—he took naïveté to an extreme few humans had ever dared tread and, though of normal intelligence in most respects, was dumb as toast next to his brilliant brother.
"I see," said Dumbledore softly. "Well, Severus, I'm afraid I can't allow you to interrupt your studies to that extent two weeks from exams."
Incensed that his wrenching confession had been for nothing, Severus snapped up his head, about to give his venomous temper free reign.
"However, I believe I could convince one of the teachers to accept you as an aide. I few afternoons a week grading and organizing is the extent of the job, but I believe the proceeds should be of sufficient assistance to your mother. Over summer, I will appeal to the Ministry. School policy forbids underage students to work outside. But exceptions have been made in the past. Furthermore, I can put both you and your brother on student aid."
Ashamed of the outburst he'd barely bitten back, Severus nodded, hoping he looked grateful. Student aid hurt the pride he'd almost convinced himself he'd shed, but it would help, and Dumbledore had effectively solved the worst of his problems. "Thank you, sir."
"You're entirely welcome, Severus. Now, you'd best hurry back to your common room before Mr. Filch decides he needs someone to mop out Myrtle's bathroom. Discretion is the better part of valor."
Severus nodded and hurried from the office. Downstairs, however, he had no intention of returning to his common room. Listening carefully, he determined no one was nearby and skulked out onto the grounds, around to the large oak on the shore of the lake.
In the very last glimmers of the late sunset, he could make out three dark figures sprawled variously around the base of the tree. "What took so long?" asked the nearest one, the voice identifying Frank Longbottom.
"Nothing. Lumos." Severus had walked into the lake more than once without this precaution. His night vision was abysmal. Actually, all his vision was abysmal, but glasses weren't in the family budget. He made Hector read the blackboard to him and pretended to be lost in thought when he walked into things.
"That was really long nothing."
"And today's not very original comment prize goes, yet again, to my little brother." Severus' good moods were not readily apparent to bystanders. The only people who could generally recognize the difference between angry and ordinarily surly were the three right here. And one of them technically wasn't a person at the moment.
Severus leaned against a tree and let his knees drop out from under him. Even though he'd finally won the losing battle and secured the family home for a while longer, he was so exhausted he couldn't feel anything but fatigue. He had long ago trained himself to stave off tiredness, but that made it all the worse when he did allow himself rest.
He was so tired it took him a moment to notice the cold nose nudging his shoulder. He bit back a squawk. Gingerly, he reached out to scratch the nose of the enormous black coyote that had grabbed his worn sleeve in its razor-sharp teeth and growled playfully. The coyote growled again, released his sleeve, and turned into a tiny, pretty girl.
"Hi, Sparrowhawk." He carefully watched the squid drifting across the lake, knowing how disheveled Phoebe could be after transforming and really wanting to look.
"Dude, don't get all mushy about it. I was only gone a couple of days." She punched him in the back in what she seemed to feel was a companionable way. Though he could have dispelled the bruise with a flick of his wand, but, pathetic as it was, he liked physical proof that she'd actually touched him. Realizing that, all his cheer vanished and he thoroughly despised himself again.
Hector, lacking all of Severus' scruples and free of his cowardice, slung his arm over her shoulder in a carefully casual fashion. "Yeah, Phoebe, where were you for three days?"
Playfully, Phoebe flung him head over heels into the lake. "You're a jerk, Hecky. Me? I was kinda… locked in the old potions classroom. No one could hear me, and it was really kind of fun in there, so I didn't really make too much effort."
"Only you, Phebes," Frank said dully. "You realize the whole school was in an uproar because you went poking into an old closet of ingredients behind a sealed door?"
"Well, I didn't know it was sealed! It let me in!" Phoebe pulled off her black combat boots, hiked up her robes, and waded into the lake. "Here, squiddy squiddy!"
Despite himself, Sev felt his eyes follow her progress into the still water, as she played a mildly deadly game of tag with the squid's tentacles. The one and only girl of all his dreams— No, just a very good friend, one of very few he'd probably ever have. Most likely destined to eventually go out with his brother, which had been pretty inevitable since they'd first laid eyes on each other after the sorting. Yes, he was over that. Completely.
What was bothering him was clearly that Phoebe had been missing (and completely happy) for three days without his knowing. He was definitely working too hard if he didn't have attention to spare for a friend.
"Come here, squiddy! Sev, get up and help me catch the squid!" Phoebe ran out of his field of vision, forcing him to actually turn his head to follow her. "I want to hug it!"
"And she's smarter than Dumbledore?" Frank snorted. "IQ tests are weird."
"Just because she's loony doesn't mean she's not a genius." Sev was resting his chin on his hands to disguise the fact the he was forcibly holding his head in place, so as not to watch Phoebe frolic around with a giant sea monster. He listened in total composure as he heard Hector get up and join her.
"Are you Sev? No! Go away. And tell your brother to get his skinny ass over here." There was a thud and a series of splashes as Phoebe pushed Hector's head underwater.
"Notice she shows her affection with violence?" Hector asked cheerfully, settling into the grass on Frank's other side. He pulled a half empty pack of cigarettes from his pocket and scowled. "Soaked. Sev, be cool for once and—" Severus boredly sent a blast of hot air at the sodden package. "Yeah. Though, you know, she's much nicer when she's a dog."
"Coyote," Severus corrected dully.
"Whatever, it's a weird looking dog. Though she does bite sometimes. Want one?" He offered his cigarettes pleasantly to all assembled, met Severus' scowl and Frank's disinterest with a grin, and went to follow Phoebe around some more.
"Affection, that reminds me." Frank shifted uncomfortably. "I'm supposed to tell you. You have a secret admirer."
Severus started up from a slouch so quickly he hit his head on the tree. "Who?"
"Um, secret. But given the circumstances, I'd bet a dozen galleons on Lily Evans. Don't know when she sustained the brain damage."
Since Severus had been about to make roughly the same comment himself, he didn't take offense. "Are you insane?"
"No, though I think she is." Frank shrugged. "No idea, mate. Must be that reclusive, artistic thing. You're a musician, you're barely aware she exists. It'd be just like a girl."
"That kind of girl, I guess." He felt himself going pale. As a matter of fact, Severus was well aware of Lily's existence, as whenever he got anywhere near her Potter felt obligated to curse the snot out of him. He'd assumed this was just a sort of personal challenge. Curse-Snivellus-whenever-Evans-is-around sounded like a "Marauders" kind of game. But now the full sinister implications hit him.
"What's wrong with you?" Frank raised an incredulous eyebrow. "She's smart, she's good looking—very good looking—and she's almost as good at potions as you. Obviously, she's crazier than Phoebe, but, you know, there are worse things. You'll have someone to force those Beatles records on and sit around the Slug Club with."
"Potter would kill me! You know he likes her! I get attacked three times a week as it is, damn it!" He shuddered. "I'd vanish under mysterious circumstances!"
"Why do you put up with them? Damn, Sev, you're the best duelist in the year, probably the school."
"Four against one, that's why."
"There're four of us," said Frank wisely. "Okay, so Hector doesn't know which end of the wand to hold, but we can set him against Pettigrew. And Phoebe's even a prefect, so she could cancel out Lupin the detention dispenser."
"Yeah, well, tell my secret admirer I'm… dead. Yeah. I'm going to bed."
"Like fun you are!" Hector put him in a very wet headlock. "We can't get back in without that charm!"
"Sparrowhawk knows it." Pulling his cloak more tightly against an imagined chill, he hyper-disillusioned himself and skulked back to his dormitory.
