10. Two Reports
After her brother had returned to his classroom for the second time, cursing under his breath, Silva Snape wearily made her way back to the Entrance Hall, distracted by her very own thoughts and premonitions.
From there, she tried to plot her way to the gargoyle that she remembered to be in charge of admission to the Headmaster's office, and did find it without any trouble. This was odd, even though it was not all that long ago that Silva had been here last. The location of the office, as well as the password, seemed to change frequently these days – or the paths there, depending on how you looked at it. If one lived in the old castle, most of this probably got by unnoticed, unless one had to see the Headmaster on a daily basis, because it happened only gradually. Outside visitors were confounded, which was just the purpose.
Silva did not have to wait either until some gentle soul would tell her the password of the day, or let her in. Albus Dumbledore was standing in the opening, right in front of the staircase, flanked by the gargoyles and smiling at her radiantly.
The old man was, for some reason, not merely happy, but very relieved indeed to see her. He would have heard the rumours, surely…
"Silva, welcome, welcome – how good it is to have you here again! And this time to pick up your wand again, I believe – I dare hope? Dear, you do look as if urgent news were propelling you... come with me. Do you wish to take a bath first – or to speak?"
"To speak, Albus, definitely," she said, feeling worn-out, when they mounted the moving staircase. Yet she had to smile up at the old wizard at this reception, feeling relief already and heart-warmed as always, if unexpectedly so, this time. She had hoped for this, but not known for sure. Her brother's ways...
"No bath right now, I do feel strong and pure, for a – well, good, reason that you'll come to know soon enough if you haven't gathered it already, considering your appearing to be on a look-out for me..."
They smiled at each other fondly.
"Right now, these dirty Muggle rags don't bother me as much as they did an hour ago. But eventually, soon, I do want them off...
Once in the office, Albus Dumbledore conjured a comfortable armchair for his visitor, to stand in front of his bureau. He motioned Silva to sit, and poured her some wine – heavy and red, like blood. There was a pile of different kinds of chocolate, too, on a silver plate.
Silva smiled at him gratefully. Seeing the old Headmaster always felt like a homecoming. She looked about the ancient, strange room.
"It might be early, but you seem to need some treat... So, what tidings bring you here?"
Silva was still standing, about to answer, when something golden and fiery hit her with a blissful trill and made her sway – Fawkes, in his full splendour, tried to wrap himself around her, claws, huge wingspan, and all, and she had to embrace him to prevent tumbling over with the weight of the great bird.
Dumbledore laughed.
"He's not forgotten you either, and he is convinced you will stay this time, see? He missed you."
"At least someone did," Silva mumbled, carefully untangling herself from brilliant feathers and helping the beautiful bird to climb up on her shoulder where he perched, making delighted little noises. She was running her fingers tenderly through the fine feathers on his neck.
"So did I," said Dumbledore, but Silva preferred either to ignore that, or had not heard it.
Regardless of the Phoenix's blessed presence and show of affection, the feeling of being injured by her brother's treatment took over Silva's mood again.
"Albus... YOU will talk to me, to my face, and address me as a person..."
"He still won't?"
"No... Well, he did choose to remember my name upon my crashing his class, which can only be owed to well-contained surprise, but the contempt he oozed, till the moment I left...! You know this absolutely neutral manner of scanning and appraisal of his when he feels real contempt, and it matters to him personally...? He looked me up and down… It's not like I prefer to dress like this! It was far worse than anything I did remember, too… I knew then why I'd never gone to see Severus, all these years. As if he's showing disregard for a life form as such... If a life form I was, there in front of him, at all. That scrutiny makes one feel as if one was something that should be removed right away and by any means necessary... Something no cat of self-esteem would ever bother to drag in, no good to be used in any potion, but probably spoiling any of them, something not even loathsome, just one thing too much around..."
The young woman in front of the Headmaster hung her head.
"I can't really put it in words ... If he'd bottle that look, it'd be close in effect to the Kedavra, or strychnine, or..."
Silva's voice trailed off. There was a pause.
"Oh, but you surely are as eloquent as ever, dear... Very adequately descriptive..."
Dumbledore, while sounding jocular, observed Silva with calm compassion, half-expecting her to start to cry. He had seen that look of his Professor work on others, and men of standing fold in because of it. He was quite sure that none of the students, not even Harry Potter, had experienced that particular look. The Potions Professor apparently spared it for occasions that really mattered to him personally. It was likely to kill underage youngsters, anyway...
The Headmaster did not want to get into a discussion of his Potions master's moods and demeanour any further now, though.
"How is it with the Muggles?"
Silva looked up again, eyes dry to his relief, and seemed happy about the change of subject.
"Oh, fine, really. You know I am... was... working as a carpenter and painter, some decorating, too, things like that... construction finishing work..."
"WAS working...? So, Fawkes is right?"
Silva seemed to ignore the question.
"I've become really good at it, too. If Argus Filch ever thinks to resign, think of me, will you?"
Albus Dumbledore had to smile at that, but grew serious again. He would not let her drop the subject.
"I will, dear... Am I supposed to take this as an application? So you DO choose to come back, finally – I am very happy to hear that. I was very worried about the rumours that reached me, lately…
"Silva, you know I never understood it. Why in the world did you forsake your wand, why did you give up the Gift? That was absolutely unnecessary! Severus was one person to need you about, he really did, and does still. No-one could ever crack his shell after Idane had gone. You know him inside out, you were then and are now the only one to relieve his loneliness.
"Others needed you, too... You were to be a Prefect, and you would very likely have become head girl eventually..."
"Head girl, who cares, Albus, honestly? We did then, and do have again today, other kinds of trouble..."
Albus pondered where he had heard that before.
"That's why it would have been you, Silva. Because you could see it for what it is worth, and act upon the analysis accordingly."
The old wizard smiled at her, but she was not in the mood to be soothed, or to be pumped for personal information and insights by gentle complimenting.
Some of the energy of today's events still was with her. Silva interrupted the Hogwarts Headmaster's reminiscing.
She seemed to consider several answers, then said: "Let me report, Albus. That is, after all, what I came to see you about, besides the need for some kindness...
"As I did tell my very dear brother before, I met Lucius Malfoy on my way here. He made passes at me, regardless of my outfit, like in the old times. Well, I did not look quite that messy then… He said, however, that the Dark Lord is not entirely content with Severus's performance lately, and intends to test him, which may or may not be true. My brother might need – or might not, if your perceptions about his loyalties are true – some corroboration with his Dark master...
"I did not pretend to be interested, and never mentioned that I was set to meet Severus – I wasn't, too, then. Lucius knows very well that Severus and I are not on speaking terms. But I do believe he was quite sure that I was headed for Hogwarts. He might have made the connection... In any case, he is sure to report to his master that I have been spotted in the wizarding world alive, and presumably was heading here. I cannot imagine though that Malfoy will be in on the idea that I might report to you personally and in detail, or that I might come back for good... I'm not happy to have been discovered that early on, but on the other hand, this way we know for sure that any old owl will know very soon."
The old wizard was smiling brightly at the young former witch, quite disconnectedly.
Finally, Silva could not keep a straight face anymore, regardless of her tidings. She was so very happy to be back! This welcome was so much better than what she'd hoped for! After all, Dumbledore might still have needed her as a spy with the Muggles…
"For good, Albus, yes. Fawkes is right of course, as always."
Dumbledore did raise an eyebrow to that, but did not speak.
Silva stroked the gold-and-red plumage tenderly.
"Lucius might have had the idea that I'd let Severus know – else why should he tell me things like that? –, speaking terms or not, that I'd take care to somehow let my brother know, which I did, too, if an abridged version, to alert him to the need to report my return to Voldemort as soon as possible. Lucius did not seem to refer to any distrust on his master's side, though. This might have been an honest attempt at warning, as far as Lucius is ever honest. If that is so, Malfoy might still be considered a friend of Severus's… At least, my dear brother was definitely surprised, or annoyed rather, when I told him that Lucius had approached me right after re-entering the wizard realm. Which I was, too, and probably for much the same reason, which would be my being watched. This may have been some kind of service of Lucius's to an old mate, but you will understand why I doubt that that's the only purpose...
"Has Lucius Malfoy been acquitted yet? That's sure to happen, isn't it, Albus? The man always falls onto his feet…"
Dumbledore nodded once.
"Lucius Malfoy has been released on probation after his involvement in… what was termed a 'mysterious incident in the Ministry of Magic's Unspeakables Department by the Daily Prophet."
"A-ha", made Silva.
"His acquittal is impending, regardless of the rumours and whatever the Ministerial reasons may be, but he has not been cleared of all charges yet and, hence, is in some sort of hiding, mainly from curious questions."
Silva pondered this information.
"Hm. I can't image that he'd jeopardize his acquittal by running away now, but once he's free to go again wherever he pleases…"
"Now why should you say that?" asked the Headmaster, a bit surprised.
The woman ignored him, lost in her thoughts. After a while, she said:
"It is to be expected... A bad thing…"
They both fell silent for some time. The Headmaster did not prod her to explain her mysterious remark, being sure that she'd tell him eventually.
After a while, Silva spoke up again.
"Albus, I cannot read my brother anymore now... He has closed himself up... This has all gone bitter..."
She composed herself.
"To answer your question, I got the impression that Lucius was on his way to escape to the Muggle world. Malfoy, of all people! He wanted to know all kinds of things about how Muggles live... I dare not think what kind of havoc he might wreak there..."
"This is what I heard: the Dementors defected, and all the prisoners and Dark wizards ran from Azkaban. Lucius escaped then, too, after having been convicted after a mysterious, but very violent, incident in the no-go section of the Ministry in the first place, and would have to hide, which would not be easy for him within the wizard world, being as well known as he is. And, within the Muggle world, he could render his lord all kinds of services...
it seems that regardless of the fact that he left Azkaban on his own, instead of waiting for Officials to arrive, Malfoy managed to make Fudge believe that he had only acted for the good of all, and that the Minister is very much inclined to believe that, too. That would mean that Lucius's not quite on the run.
I also heard that his flight could not impede his application to be acquitted of any charges concerning that mysterious fight at the Ministry."
"As usually, your information is quite accurate, Silva, except that he did not flee.
"A Malfoy never does. He can be sure, it appears, of things to come his way… No, Lucius was released on remand by the Ministry, on the pretext of having changed sides – once more. This was mere hours only before the mass breakout happened. At least that is the official line on his release.
"Lucius claims that he was fighting Voldemort's agents in the Department of Mysteries with us, that Sirius Black was with them, and that I had dragged some school kids into the fight. His blatancy is incredible! Lucius enjoyed rubbing it in. Luckily, we could cover up the presence of any students but Potter there…
"I won't forget Malfoy's sneer when he accused me of neglect of my duties, and rightly so for once. He claimed that I came in too late, being only just able to limit the damage done – which would have been far greater had it not been for his presence of mind. All of which would have been the Ministry's job anyway. He's right there, too, of course, regardless of the fact that he did everything he could to prevent them from doing their duty. I wasn't then, and am not now, in any position to refute his accusations, or set things right, which is bad.
"As to the other Death Eaters, they seem to have agreed to go with his story. They are escaped convicts, too, so there is no trouble there – safe the fact that very likely, with the Dementors being an insecure ally of the Ministry and wizardkind in general at best, there is no place to safely hold them now...
"Lucius even claimed to have killed Black himself."
The air around them seemed to curdle suddenly.
Silva gasped, then blurted out: "Killed Sirius Black…? Are you saying that…"
"Oh dear! You did not know then, Silva?"
Wide-eyed, the young witch stared at the old wizard, slowly shaking her head.
"Tell, me, Albus! Now!"
Albus Dumbledore held her eyes, and an infinitely sad look was in his own.
"I'm so sorry, Silva... I thought you knew… This was crude!"
Silva motioned him to continue, impatiently. Albus obliged her hurriedly, not enjoying the situation at all.
"Flatly, in that incident in the Ministry, Sirius Black was killed in the course of a duel with his cousin Bellatrix."
"That mean, wicked bitch! So he survived hell, only to be killed by her? I can't believe it!"
Silva's voice was hoarse, about to crack.
"If I ever wanted to see a bitch dead, it was her! I rejoiced when I heard she was sent to Azkaban!
"Oh, Sirius… That crazy old bastard… I don't understand..."
There were tears in Silva's eyes, then on her cheeks, suddenly. She swallowed.
"You told me that he eventually convinced you of his innocence in the killing of all those Muggles and Peter Pettigrew, and that finally even my bro had to see the light of reason there... You know I never believed he'd do something so vile anyway... But he still had to hide … You said there was no chance yet of clearing his name…"
"Sirius was not to be stopped when he heard that his godson was engaged in another fight with Lord Voldemort. His death was more of an accident, just Bellatrix's sort of luck, my dear."
Silva really was crying at that.
"That mean, nasty… Oh, it does not matter, he's gone. Sirius dead! He just was someone I would really, really have wanted to meet again... But this is merely what was to be expected, him being most careless and incapable of any kind of self-restriction or patience..."
She smiled under her tears, recalling memories of that young, brilliant, handsome, and completely irresponsible, offspring of her family's worst enemies. Not much of a wizard, but a true warlock…
Drinkling their wine, red as blood, they were silent for a long time.
When Silva had composed herself, Dumbledore said: "The Ministry of Magic follows Lucius's tale and has it, officially, that Sirius was with the Death Eaters matter of course. He was a convicted criminal He'd escaped from Azkaban, some of the others involved in the fight had, too. So what is more likely than his assisting them? You know we never managed to get hold of Peter Pettigrew, which would be the only evidence sufficient to obtain Sirius's acquittal... PP has not been caught nor seen yet by anyone but Harry and his friends, Remus, and the DE, so there's no proof of Sirius's innocence, or that Black was trying to protect Harry Potter.
"I have no handle to set any of that right, which really hurts, and all of this will very likely lead to much pain for Harry when, eventually, I have tell him the whole story of the conflict between your brother and Black. He's likely to rage at me, and at Severus, and I can only hope this won't break him.
"The only good thing in all this is that your brother was finally convinced of Sirius's innocence, and that they did shake hands at some point, if on my order... it should take some small weight off Severus's shoulder now, that, even if he'll never admit as much."
There was a long pause.
"Albus – this is really bad news..."
She wiped her eyes.
"Yes, Silva, that it is indeed."
The witch and the wizard sat pondering events for some time.
"Why do you have to tell Harry about my brother's wretched life anyway?"
"He has to know why I trust Severus. Last year, I tried to force those two to come together by having your brother teach Harry Occlumency, and it was a complete disaster… went spectacularly wrong, really."
"Oh Albus, I could have told you that! Anyone could have! Severus hates anything Potter!"
"Silva, Harry HAS GOT to learn to protect his mind. While" – the old Headmaster grinned – it won't hurt your brother a bit to control his temper once in a while, don't you think?"
Albus Dumbledore grew serious again.
"During the fight in the Ministry, it became apparent that Voldemort can control Harry, possess him even, while they are in the same room, at the very least. The boy had been having strange dreams about becoming a snake, and about sneaking down corridors – for months, as it seems. He alerted us to an attack on Arthur, by that enabling us to save his life, and Harry had the idea that he himself had attacked him… in his dream… in the form of that snake…"
Silva gasped.
"That huge snake seems to be Lord Voldemort's familiar. The incident was what let the Dark Lord become aware of the connection between them. He then made use of it to lure Harry into the Ministry of Magic by sending images of Sirius's capture and torture there to him. The boy had no means of checking with his godfather to make sure he was alright… He even broke into the Defence against the Dark Arts Teacher's office to try, without success…
"Harry never came to see me and tell me about things, and that was all my fault. When he was in my presence, in the moment there was eye contact, the murderous desire of that snake, i.e. Voldemort's will, made him almost leap on me, and that already happened before Voldemort became aware of the connection… I felt this, of course, and refused to talk to the boy for fear of strengthening this connection, but never bothered to let him know why I did what I did. I betrayed his trust, expecting him to act in a self-controlled manner that most grown-ups won't manage…"
"You gave him no reasons for your actions?"
"No… I had no idea how much he depended on my sympathy, and there was no time really to write long letters of explanation, what with protecting the Prophecy, having that Umbridge woman teach here, Fudge's fussing, and my removal from the Wizengamot and other positions where I still might have had some influence on the turn of events… That's just to name a few things, mind you. Harry appeared to be such a small cogwheel there, and he has his friends…"
"Oh Albus!"
"Yes, Silva. It was my fault entirely. I misjudged the situation, and failed Harry utterly. They are strong. And I cannot let Harry Potter off now, even if I gave him all the reasons for my course of action. He MUST learn Occlumency, or be a peril to everyone – himself, the Order, his friends… He must learn to trust your brother. You could help out there, I believe...
"They will have to fight side by side – soon, and closely, too. No-one needs a crystal ball to predict that. Severus is the only one who can bring Harry Potter close to Tom Riddle – this side of allowing Harry to be captured again."
Silva looked at the old wizard with some bitterness.
"So that is why you greet my return so enthusiastically – a helping hand to make good, doing repair jobs on miscalculations you made, trying to undo mistakes that were so very unnecessary… You are still moving people about like pieces of chess!"
Dumbledore sighed deeply.
"Harry thinks so, too… So, you have not forgiven me either, have you? Like your brother, like young Harry…"
The Headmaster had looked very old, weary, and tired, when he said that, but suddenly, this demeanour was gone in a flash, and a formidable wizard, eyes blazing, was facing Silva who shrunk back in amazement.
"I know I've blundered, and am likely to commit more blunders in whatever time I have left here. Only refraining from doing anything at all could help that! But action has to be taken, and I will stand for my decisions, and meet them in full, conscious, responsibility! No-one else is willing or able to act; no-one knows as much about the things going on as I do! Fudge is a ninny, and all the others are still half-disbelieving of Voldemort's return, and none of them sure what to do. I do know that I can be blamed for the death of more than one, Silva! I am likely to cause more pain, too. Would you have me look on, waiting until the damage is done? You might face your last hour in the course of events, and soon! You are free to not join the fight yet!"
Silva merely shook her head in awe.
The wizard who was radiating power before her became the kindly old man with a long white beard once more.
"See, Silva – I might be in a leading position, but I am no deity, I am fallible, and hence my judgement is a fault occasionally… Some mistakes even turn out for the better... All I can do is ask you, Silva, to please try and consider what would be if I had not taken the responsibility to act, for this fight, on me so many years ago. I did not ask for it – and you know that, as opposed to Fudge!"
"You mean I ran away, cowardly, then," Silva stated flatly, with some coldness.
Albus faced her squarely, and eventually nodded, eyes dim with sorrow.
Silva felt her throat close as if she was about to cry, but realised that the thing clenching at her heart was fear.
After some moments, the old wizard said: "Will you help me? Will you try to comfort the boy like you have before?"
"Of course, sir... for now though, I could do with some comfort myself..."
Fawkes, on her shoulder, trilled, soothing her. His softly-feathered cheek rubbed hers, his wings were covering her shoulders like they were hers for an instant, and the bliss of that made her smile regardless.
After some moments of stroking the magnificent bird-creature and staring into the flames of Dumbledore's fireplace, Silva continued, her voice thick with unshed tears at first, but becoming increasingly serene and distant with the task of reporting her observations and suspicions.
"Let me continue where we broke off, and tell why I think Lucius might eventually go to the Muggles anyway, might even prefer what would look like flight to acquittal. That would make no difference anyway as soon as Voldemort had won this war, surely.
"Some of his questions pointed to such a turn of his. As you surely will be aware, there are those among the Muggles who consider themselves magical, and some of those prefer to worship the demons of their respective religions, attempting to conjure them up, usually trying to quell negative forces, or to make good.
"I have come to know about such groups. They call themselves orders or lodges and believe they are practicing magic. Honestly, I would not know about the truth in such things, Albus, but I don't think there is anything beyond mental exertion there. What I do know is that such beliefs exist.
"The common view is that what they call Magic works much like an act of concentration on their true aims, and achieving them, or to remove obstacles of thought. That is not all that different from the way we do things, but normally, Muggles do not get far. Occasionally, they manage to confront their innermost self, in the form of what they call an 'exteriorised presence', or some such thing, which can be so impressive that they are changed for life. Usually, nothing much of consequence beyond the personal comes from all that. Yet occasionally, it gets to be political, not necessarily in a bad way, but so far, it is still a fairly normal mode of action for them.
Some of them seriously work with those things, with their minds and perceptions, and on themselves, trying to understand what the world and life are, but there are a lot about who would rather take the easy way, achieve aims without working for them, and are lusting for power. They need sense, and if they don't find any, often take to desperate and cruel measures to create it.
"Neither of them have such energies as wizards do, hence a wand does nothing for them even if they use one. Where it is a means of focussing energy with wizards, it is, with them, mostly a symbol within a rite – of the element of fire, or of the phallus, of virility, and male fertility – of the power of procreation, in short, and the power to enforce it. A wand is supposed to concentrate such energies, but it does not work for them like it does for us."
Dumbledore nodded.
"Very concise. I am well aware of that."
"Sorry to lecture, Albus, but I am getting to the point.
"You will remember my mentioning such folk rather in passing, last time I reported. You do of course remember the Witch Hunts – the things Muggles did, and do to each other, mainly – not only in persecution of damage done, but also, what leads to that in the first place..."
Dumbledore nodded again, patiently.
"Now here comes the twist: of course it would not be beyond Voldemort to use Muggles to his end, and their own downfall – as long as that's feasible, as long as they are of use..."
"Muggles? Riddle wouldn't ever – "
"He has done so already, Albus, as I have reason believe; and passes this off, with the more excitable of his pureblood followers, as a „strategic alliance", which it surely is – if Lucius Malfoy is to be trusted. You'll remember, Albus, that I considered such a thought absurd when I reported last, and only mentioned that someone who's got a crush on me introduced me to people worshipping someone who looked ridiculously like the description Harry gave you of Riddle resurrected?
"The point is that Lord Voldemort may have crossed the line – I believe he has really done it, this time. Wand and all!"
The old wizard sat, pondering this quietly, and shook his head unhappily. Silva ignored the gesture.
"So, I knew about such things already, and thought Lucius was mocking me by his questions, though I could not figure out right away how he knew in the first place, or why he should care. I had a lot of time to think about that later on, running here. Lucius's words did consolidate the reality of what until then had only been an absurd notion, not even as much as a vague suspicion. Surely, that was not his intention at all… I would not have mentioned it again otherwise, were it not for my dear brother's best school time friend... Up to then, it was a mere anecdote... You must ask Severus if he's heard anything of that sort. He probably has, and surely will have considered it even more silly that I did at first... Albus, I am afraid it is possible!
"What Lucius Malfoy told me sheds a different light on what I had witnessed before. He asked me a lot about Muggle beliefs and what they do when they believe to conjure up a demon or ghost, and would they take orders from such an apparition. I found those questions odd, but they eventually linked up with other incidents and observations. Lucius gave several examples, usually of things having gone wrong, and allowed for a lot of guessing. What happens seems to be that Voldemort shows himself at the meetings of those Muggles, in a circle, presumably conjured up by them, and under their control and command. It does not seem that one of these groups ever before hit upon an actual source of magical power, but this time...
"However, according to Lucius Malfoy, by my inference again, mind you, Voldemort tells his wizard followers that he needs such groups now to gain full access to the Muggle world, and that they will not stand a chance later when their time is up – which likely is true enough. And were Voldemort able to control those groups, we'd stand no chance either. We can't hope for a Harry Potter to come to the rescue every time things become tight for us…
"You know, Albus, that Lucius is a great blabbermouth who can't hold his secrets, and a liar to boot, but much of this had the ring of truth to it. I believe he was careless because he did not expect me to be in on topicalities, or interested at all in such matters…"
They both retreated into gloomy silence. Eventually, Silva spoke up again.
"So, these Muggles appear to believe that Voldemort's the personification of evil, or a prince or demon from one of their many hells. I have no idea how or as what Voldemort introduced himself with them. They conjure him up, using blood, of course, and might follow his instructions minutely if he promises them power. I'm quite sure that feeling a power like his, should he crack the whip on them, will send them running to serve him a good as they can, and they will stop at nothing. Those people really wish to destroy their own kind!
"And while he does, or rather did, I am afraid, need these people to pass into the Muggle world, and for nourishment, considering the state he is in, they are silly enough to believe that they can order him to come on or disappear at their will, and do their bidding. They do believe that they can limit the damage done! It will be easy for Voldemort to make them dance to his tune."
The Headmaster pondered that.
"So, Voldemort seems to have made contact with and allied himself to a rather mean set of Muggles. No-one in the wizard world outside of his own Inner Circle will, I believe, know of that yet.
"But Silva, how would you know that Malfoy was not lying to you? Why should he have told you in the first place if he suspected that you were going to Hogwarts?"
"I can't! I don't understand why he told me, except for the one reason that he tried to pump me for information to get along with those Muggles better. Very likely, Lucius can't imagine that I am reporting to you personally, and on a somewhat regular basis. Obviously, my only indication to the truthfulness of his words is the coincidence. I have no idea why he'd bother to tell me, except to show off, and let me know that I'd sided with the losers so many years ago. He wanted to impress me while I was still at school, and still might wish to do so now. His telling implies that he was sure that I was on my way to return to wizardry for good, mean no danger to his plans, and have no clue of the goings-on at all. He probably even thought that I might be in the hands of the Death Eaters soon…
"Let me state again that I have no idea how he would know my whereabouts unless he somehow has divined what drove me back in the first place."
At that, Dumbledore looked at her with some surprise, then sighed. Silva ignored him.
"Also, Lucius must think that there's no danger in my knowing, for some reason. In all probability, Voldemort's aims have been achieved already, and Lucius Malfoy only goes there for the final touches... One possible reckoning of his may be that, if this rumour of Voldemort having gone off to the Muggles to hassle them gets around, the Ministry, and others, will develop a false sense of security..."
The old Headmaster, who was listening intently, nodded to that.
"In any case, it makes sense in connection with rumours I've been hearing for months, and had no explanation for... And Malfoy can't possibly know that.
"You know I made a little extra money with my knowledge of herbs… There was the wish to sometimes talk about our world without being conspicuous, so I hung out with role-players and re-enactors, that's people who play wizards, or medieval knights etc., and who like a good story about another world. Among them are people who call themselves Occultists, and other strange Muggle folk. Most of them are rather nicer and more open-minded that the average Muggle, if more querulous, too, but some are really weird and nasty.
"I met one of the latter type there. That guy'd taken a fancy to me, and been trying to date me for some time – somehow, he thought that a Dark kind of adventure would do best. He said that there were fundamental changes going on in the world, and he'd show me. He took me to a meeting of his group, Church of Dark Release they call themselves. Lucky for me, it was not one of those nights that Voldemort, if it is him indeed, appeared in their midst – that would have been real trouble for me, and some show for them! I surely would not be here now...
"At that point, I found the whole experience not very intriguing, and it did nothing for the guy to get me to date him – his lot, I did not like at all, even though they seemed harmless enough then.
"What that man had said only really made sense after what Lucius told me. I remembered the description that guy gave me of their master demon. It then was easy to figure out who they were conjuring up, and believed to control... That guy had not been lying.
"I am sure the guy'd been sworn to secrecy by that circle, probably by Voldemort himself, but such a thing merely seems to be one more reason with Muggles to brag and make things known, particularly the males. At the time, I even got to see a Muggle photograph of their - well, demon. That was unusual in itself, insofar as that Muggle demons can't usually be put on Muggle photographs I didn't think much of it, it could have been anything at the time, a fake, or someone in a nasty disguise, and forgot all about it. But I made the connection when Lucius asked all those questions – I realised that that photograph fitted the description you once gave of Voldemort's new look only too well. I still have only your description to go by, mind you. . I tried to consider it a coincidence, not to be taken serious at all, but found it worried me greatly.
"Lucius was very circumventive of the subject of the return of what he claims is his former master, saying that the rise of such a menace was deplorable, etc.
"If I am not mistaken in my assessment, Lucius Malfoy is intending to meet those Muggles, and that is of immediate importance to all of you – us. He'll claim to be an emissary of hell… He could get that hell-bent group to blow themselves up on orders of their master, or make them kill other Muggles... I guess he might even be in the Muggle world by now. Maybe some mixed families can find a way of intervening…
"There is some sort of a pureblood thing going between Muggles, too, depending on skin colour and other features that are easily recognizeable. So, those Muggles believe in some kind of pure-breeding in Muggles, and do hate wizards. That funny bunch thinks they are the real wizards, and that real wizards are white of skin, in this case! That only shows how short-sighted they are, and how very unable to look over the brims of their cups...
"More than anything, the powers that would be hate the factual power...
"Voldemort, however, might not be needing those Muggles at all except for a fence and to get some dirty work done, depending on the state he is in himself... I wouldn't know, that's beyond my knowledge of magical theory...
"They seem to worship the apparation sure enough, You-know-who or not, and I am positive that they would kill should he order them to. They are waiting for that, to be allowed to do so… If they do not do so anyway to conjure him up, or just to please him, or themselves...
"If they could be made to perceive our world, and invade it, there would be a terrible battle...
"Lucius told me about those things with a big sneer. I'd have loved to wipe it off his face, but I was distracted, and curious to know what he was on about. Lucius was ridiculing Muggle stupidity to aggravate me rather than letting things drop intentionally, I believe.
"He also had some rumour about the Blood of the Enemy having been used already. I've no idea what he meant by that, and Lucius refused to elaborate…"
Silva noted that Dumbledore was struck by her last words. Was it her mentioning of that phrase Lucius had used, or that ghastly story of Muggle stupidity in general?
"Can you tell me more about this, Albus?" Silva asked, feeling sure that he could.
The old wizard merely shook his head, indicating that he did not want to elaborate either about the reference Lucius Malfoy had made to the ritual using Harry's blood to resurrect his master. Voldemort was strong, and getting stronger…
Albus Dumbledore was greatly troubled by the connections the witch before him was making between events, and showed it.
Silva sensed the old wizard's disquiet and was worried, wondering what in her tale could have brought it about, but went on. Considering, none of what she had to tell could be called good news, really…
"As it seems, Lucius still has a crush on me or rather, not quite forgiven me my rejection, after all these years. He was definitely bragging, showing off, trying to tell me how stupid Muggles are, and that I should come back to the real, wise, pureblood wizards of the realm... Which might be his way of courting today, I would not know – it was not really attractive in any case. I've no idea how he can believe that I'd join his lot should I really come back, after all that happened! He probably believes that exile among the Muggles must convince anyone of their inferiority and expendability…
"There is no reason that he should feed me stuff like that of his own invention, or under orders of his Dark Lord either, even if I still don't understand how he found me. Might be a little game of his own.
"I do not think that he knows or cares enough about the Muggle world to make a story like that upon his own, which is my main reason of bringing this rumour before you again."
Dumbledore nodded, ponderously.
"There is some very good reasoning in what you say, distressing as it may be."
Silva continued: "Let us try to see what might happen. Lucius Malfoy steps onto the Muggle stage. Those people will love him, his looks, his demeanour, even his smell, I should think... If he managed to show up in an appropriate manner, as an emissary of their demon-lord, they'll just kiss his feet...
"If his aim was flight after all, he'd be approaching his very own hell, in a sense... Some punishment of and in itself... Probably he merely used his chance of pumping someone he knew for reliable information. A Malfoy living with Muggles, adored by Muggles... Do you think he'd even notice the contradiction?"
"Oh, I doubt that... He might tire of it eventually though, for lack of worthier devotees..."
This made Silva giggle, but she grew serious again immediately.
"I do so hope that I am seeing into this meeting things that are not there… Else, this is indeed bad, Albus."
"Oh yes, that it is, my dear. But I find it a relief to see that it rhymes for you. Many wizards with more – well, reliable, sources of information are neither willing nor able to make as much of what they know..."
"By what you've said he would not need to fly, which was what I thought when I met him... So, where would he be, now? With those Muggles?"
"Many people might not want to support him or have him around and will only be too happy if he's gone – just as the Ministry in general will be happy not to have to try and refuse him a come-back into his positions here – if they at all can, that is..."
"If he's gone, not all that many people will ask where he might be, for the time being."
The Headmaster and the wayward witch sat in silence for some time.
----------
After a few moments, the staircase started to move, bringing someone up to the office. There was a knock, and after inviting in whoever it was, Dumbledore said:
"Even if there was no need to run, Lucius is sure to make his way. He's not one to be intimidated by Muggles."
Silva glanced at the visitor, who had by then entered. He was a thin, smallish boy, lanky, black hair disorderly, glasses.
Harry Potter!
He'd grown some since she'd seen him last, but he still was small and underweight for his age, and looked a bit distraught right now.
His approach to the desk was not shy, but he did not speak, nodding to her slowly, green eyes staring wide. He'd probably been in class this morning. There was no other reason to stare like that at a visitor to the Headmaster of Hogwarts... Yes, he had been there, she read it in him.
Harry had just received an owl by Fred and George, relieving him magically of a charm that they'd used on him earlier that day. He felt that his attempts at convincing them to return were at an end, the twin's threats having become quite serious of late. There was no chance to succeed. He had merely thought to report as much to the Headmaster, and advanced when he found the stairs to work.
And there was that Snape woman, talking animatedly to the Headmaster. They seemed to know each other well, and even be friends. He thought he heard Malfoy's name mentioned when he entered.
Harry did not mean to intrude, surely what he had to say could wait, but...
The Headmaster motioned to the boy who was still staring at Silva Snape.
"Excellent! Sit down, Harry, sit down. Just a minute. I think you might be of use here."
Tea and muffins appeared in front of him. Fawkes, after briefly touching down to greet the boy by way of rubbing his cheek and stealing a piece of scone, went back to perch on the shoulder of the woman.
"This is Silva Snape, as you will already know. Silva, Harry Potter, the hope of the wizarding world."
The woman said seriously: "Hi, Harry, an honour to meet you," and noticed the red flecks on the boy's cheeks that seemed to be brought about rather by the embarrassment of the introduction than her presence, or a feeling of pride. Was there even something like anger about it in him?
Silva Snape nodded politely and, considering the Headmaster having called the boy in, thought it to be okay to go on with what she had to say.
So, she said: "However, summing those tidings up, I should like to stay here at Hogwarts, Headmaster, if you see any chance for me to be of use here. I do not think I am safe in the wizarding world, otherwise... May I? Would you help me with it, like you did my brother? He'll hate it! You guessed the wish already…"
Her voice had become pleading, as Albus was hurt to hear. Pleading did not suit her, and she had done valuable work for the order – surely, this tone was a measurement of her distress.
"You could stay at Grimmauld Place..."
"Keeping old Remus company, right, poor guy... That draughty horrid old Dark magical box, and memories and Dark artefacts everywhere... No, Albus."
The old wizard smiled at her. Apparently, he'd expected as much. She was very much like her brother – uncompromising even when in dire need, and generally getting what she wanted...
"It's been cleared out pretty much, you know?"
Silva Snape merely shook her head.
The Headmaster grinned mischievously.
"I had to ask that to make sure."
She now nodded.
"I can see that."
"Silva, I did indeed hope you would want to return to Hogwarts, while I wish dearly that the circumstances and outlook were generally more bright. You are needed here. But then, everyone is – and many might die... I would be very grateful if you stayed – to fight by my side, like you said you would – and to have your wand back soon... Do you want it?"
"Oh, not right now."
"No?"
The Headmaster raised an eyebrow in mock surprise, his eyes twinkling.
"Some witch you are..."
Silva smiled, despite herself.
"My very dear brother said as much, too... Well, I've been doing well without magic for a good 20 years, Albus, and am in no hurry to resume. A few days do not matter! There are other things more pressing..."
Harry gaped at her. She had no wand now? Had she really come in from the Muggle world, just like Malfoy and his buddies had suggested, and without any use of her magic? Her whole demeanour, however, increased his sense of urgency. Big and terrible things were about to happen...
"You are sure that you will stay?"
She nodded.
"You know about the difficulties. I do believe days to matter, in the end...
"However… are you still as good with herbs as you were, being a student?"
"Honestly, I would not know," Silva said, relieved by the distraction, and some possible solution to that part of the problem, "with the magical bit of that, at least, but then, why should I not be?"
"I do believe that Professor Sprout – you will not know her?" – Silva shook her head – "that Professor Sprout, who teaches Herbology now, is in quite some need of an assistant, particularly one who is good at the subject of Herbology, is not too wont of breaking things, and does like to work with her own hands, without magic, to do the things the house-elves can't. I'll see to that.
"About your magic – you must be completely out of practice!"
Silva nodded again. "Don't forget I never made it beyond the fourth year."
"I possibly couldn't forget that, dear, but you did have some... advantage by your upbringing... However, this is where Harry here might come in. He is a very capable young wizard, one of the best of his age, and could be of great assistance once you've got your wand back, so that you can slip safely back into the old habits, and pick up from him what you missed when you left school so unexpectedly. He is now in his sixth year, and headed a Defence against the Dark Arts club last year... by the name of Dumbledore's Army, incidentally. It greatly annoyed the Minister."
Dumbledore chuckled.
The boy blushed, rather sweetly, and seemed about to say something, but nothing came out.
Silva nodded to him: "That would be great! You're a famous boy, I'd be honoured! Harry – would you ...teach me what I missed out on?"
Dumbledore added: "Do you feel up to it, young man? What with homework, and Quidditch, and... your other appointments?"
Harry would not for the life of him have missed the opportunity to get close to someone who apparently was a source of information to Dumbledore himself, seemed to know Lucius Malfoy, and might have known his parents in school! If that meant additional work, so be it. Also, he'd liked her right away, even when she burst into class. Her attitude toward him was entirely different from that of her brother, too.
Dumbledore seemed to be amazed about his silence and feel a need to convince him.
"Now do you agree, Harry? A fine chance, too, I am sure, to practice for your N.E.W.T.s – and after. Silva Snape here used to be one of our finest students in her time! She'll pick up again in no time at all, I am sure, and might even teach you a few things. She knows a lot about the Dark Arts..."
Albus Dumbledore's eyes twinkled even while he said that, and he turned back to Silva, who'd blushed with dislike of his last remark.
"My dear, you have, I believe, no idea how grateful I really am to have you back here. You might be able to comfort Severus a little, and hold in check this youngster here and his high-flying plans, by helping them with the Dark Arts... Will you tutor her, boy?"
The Headmaster now smiled at Harry who, to his own surprise, did not feel incensed about the Headmaster's inferences, but felt he was looking forward to spend time with the strange woman sitting beside him, oddly familiar as she seemed, and although she was still dirty like a sewage worker, smelling of mud a bit even at the distance. She had not gaped at him, or wanted to see his scar, or to shake his hand for a heroic deed he did remember nothing about. Looking at her, he was almost disappointed about that. Neither did she scold him for being famous, but instead was deriding Snape, who just had to be her brother, unlikely as that was, regardless of the similarities of appearance in them.
Harry said, much surprised by the turn of events, but also curious: "Eh... er, no problem, I think – it would be a pleasure, Mrs. Snape, madam... An honour of course, I am sure..."
His voice was lower than one would have expected from one with his smallish frame. The breaking of voice must be complete in Harry already.
"No mistress or madam, please. Just plain Silva. I am no stuck-up Potions Professor, Harry."
She made a face at him, and he knew then they'd friends. GREAT friends. Here was someone he'd like to be family. He easily averted his mind from the implications of that thought for the moment.
The Headmaster said, looking grave for once: "I must mention that you may not talk about this, even to your friends!"
Harry had heard that a lot, lately. He would manage. He took a sip of tea, and nodded.
After a moment, Dumbledore turned to him. "So, my boy, what brings you here? Another failure, I am afraid?"
Harry remembered the scroll he held. He'd not been able to attain to the Headmaster's, and his own, wishes in the matter, but he was sure that this was not his fault. He'd been working the twins for all he was worth, resorting to moral as well as material blackmail when they did not relent at all. The letter he was taking to the Headmaster tonight was the end of those efforts as far as Harry was concerned.
"Yes, Professor, sorry, sir. I tried and tried again, ever since I left them at the Burrow to return here myself, everything from begging to attempted blackmail, but they won't relent at all."
Silva's eyes went wide when she heard that. The famous Boy-Who-Lived did blackmail!
Harry went on unperturbed and apparently completely unaware of the upsetting term he'd used.
"They still claim they've never been so happy in their lives as they are now, setting up their own business, out of their Mum's hands, and will not have that spoiled by you or anyone else, no matter what is at stake. Actually, the language they use is not nearly as polite as that..."
Harry decided to elaborate for the sake of the woman who would not know anything about this.
"Fred and George've offered me free and unconditional support via owl mail like before, or the Triwizard Tournament money back. When I continued pleading, saying I don't want it, Fred and George said they'd pay me back on the spot anyway, and would I kindly shut up, which requests I of course refused. They must be doing really well if they could do that! When I wouldn't let up, they threatened to have me banned from the Three Broomsticks and the Leaking Cauldron for the rest of my life if I won't stop, and promised to use me as a test person for their newest inventions without my consent.
"They started that today, too, I daresay. There was some powder in their letter this morning... Just a little warning. They only sent some other stuff that shrunk my ears back about an hour ago, after I promised I'd leave it be – as they'd demanded with the other letter. Luckily, I only opened he first one after lunch…
"I don't think, sir, that I can take much more of it. I meant to try, really… It is no use obviously, and I do want to be friends with them in the future!"
"Thank you, Harry. You may leave it at that. We don't want you disfigured and experimented with. If you wish to continue to meet them, go ahead."
"I think I'd rather not, sir... Not right now. We've talked some about bringing supplies into Hogwarts. I think the matter is settled so far..."
Silva Snape seemed to have lost all interest in Harry's report and what it was about, but had curled up in her armchair while he spoke, appearing gloomy and utterly exhausted now.
They fell silent. Harry drained another cup of tea and had a couple of very nice muffins.
The quiet of the room was comfortable, and disturbed only by some rustling of feather from Fawkes who had returned to his perch, the crackling of embers from the fireplace, and the melodic ticking of the ancient grandfather clock in its corner, with a face Harry could never figure out. It seemed to change its meaning constantly.
Eventually, Albus Dumbledore spoke.
"Some things have to be settled first, but either Silva here or I will approach you in time about the tutoring."
Harry realized that they both had been dismissed, but wanted to finish his tea that he found most refreshing after Quidditch practice, having his ears resized twice, attempting to apologize to Snape while not failing completely this time, and going over the same arguments all afternoon to find a handle to pry on the Professor, and being subjected to Ron's irregular bursts of questions about the whys and whens of Occlumency between the curses he'd thought up for his brothers whenever they met, and all in one day. The Snape woman's arrival in the morning was only a minor incident in that light.
He could also feel Silva Snape's exhaustion, and saw how the good spirits were leaving her, but he did not move. Neither did she. Both of them seemed to be taken in by the peace of the Headmaster's office.
Dumbledore did not push them. After a while, he asked:
"So, what else is it, Silva? You mentioned things more pressing than getting your wand back, but remain mostly silent about them; yet you are not taking your leave to a well-deserved bath; and I gather that the unthinkable has happened – that you did see Severus first upon arrival, as well behoves a brother and sister, but has been quite out of the question for the best part of a quarter of a century..."
Harry had finished his tea now, but at this point, he'd have left anyway – not even his ingrained strong curiosity made him want to hear any more about his Potions Professor's affairs than he had to already lately, and surely would in the future.
Bidding them a good day, Harry quietly slipped away, receiving a nod from Dumbledore and no recognition of presence from the Snape woman.
After leaving the Headmaster's office, Harry made for the Gryffindor common room, taking his time, hoping to find a seat close to the fireplace and some quiet. He wanted to stare into the embers by himself to think over what he'd heard and what still could be done about Fred and George.
While crossing the Entrance Hall, he heard a familiar swish of robes from a side corridor. Looking in the direction, he saw Snape vanish around a corner, making for the stairs. The Potions Professor probably was on his way to the Headmaster's office.
Poor Silva, to have a brother like that.
So, it seemed that – Snape's sister, she was alright, he kept having to tell himself – Silva would stay at Hogwarts for the time being, probably as an assistant to Professor Sprout, which was good news to him in any case. The Herbology Professor had become increasingly touchy and irascible lately, ready to hand out detentions on the reason that the students utterly failed in cleaning up after them in a sufficient manner.
And Harry'd been appointed to help the strange woman to pick up on magic again...
He wondered if his Potions Professor would really be happy with that. The better if he was not...
Harry grinned.
He pondered what he'd just witnessed – rather than report, he'd listened, he thought. When he had entered the office, they'd been talking about Lucius Malfoy whom the woman seemed to have met. She was still in those dirty rags she'd worn when gate-crashing the Potions lesson, but besides, she'd seemed comparatively radiant and fresh.
After that, they had spoken about her having no wand at the moment, which seemed to be with Dumbledore, since he had offered it back to her, or rather, had teased her about giving it back. Yet neither of them seemed to be in a hurry about it. She had said she'd not practiced magic in 25 years, and lived with the Muggles by choice for most of that time. This was something that Harry found incredible, not only because of his own experience. He'd only known about magic for a good five years, and would not miss it again for the life of him!
Also, it seemed that she had left Hogwarts mid of term – ran away? –, during her fourth year… apparently, she'd never bothered to pick up on upper year's knowledge, Dumbledore had said as much...
So, he would assist her to catch up and practice, he'd be her tutor. Harry was sure to find out more about her that way. He would spend quite some time with her, and he did look forward to that. Would Snape make ill of Harry Potter, of all people, tutoring his sister? Well, what if Snape couldn't be bothered himself? But why not, for Merlin's sake? Silva Snape seemed pretty intriguing, and much nicer than her brother, whom she seemed to have some kind of ancient disagreement with that ran deep. But then, being nice probably counted rather in the negative with the dour Potions Professor, though…
There was something else: on leaving the Headmaster's office, Harry had gotten a glimpse of a feeling of tremendous pressure, or urgency, and sadness about her.
But puzzling him most was another thing, over and again: where on Earth had he met her before? Obviously without being reminded of her brother by the likeness, too? Harry was sure that he had, still more now than he'd been in the morning, and a very long time ago...
But Harry also knew that any brain-racking would be useless, so he shoved the thought aside. The memory would come back all by itself, or not at all.