12. An Interruption
In the Headmaster's office, Silva Snape and Albus Dumbledore were looking after the leaving boy in silence
Once Harry had closed the door behind him, Dumbledore continued:
"It really is so good to have you back... I was much worried, Silva."
"You do know, then? I thought as much."
"Yes. I received an owl from the Ministry, bearing the message that a construction site in a Muggle business district of Greater London which was almost finished, and ready to be moved into, had been blown up in a devastating explosion the day before – blasted by a firepower that, this side of official war, surmounted anything that terrorists had ever used on an European city...
"I knew that it was the site you were working at, Silva. I was really worried."
"I am so sorry, Albus – I had no means of letting you know... I didn't even realise you knew where I stayed... And what with having to come back to meet by brother anyway... The pressure was mounting by the hour. I knew that I'd be leaving the Muggle world for good this time, and this was a chance too good to let go to cover my tracks...
"I wasn't even on the site when it happened. Some of my crew were, though… And there is, too, the really serious stuff I came to see you about – regardless of my personal situation..."
The old wizard smiled at her fondly.
"You've just as much presence of mind as your brother. You are right, of course, and I am very happy to have you back with us, on my side... it's too bad that Lucius Malfoy has met you. It might have turned out very useful to have someone believed to be dead in our ranks. Yet, by this meeting, we are in no doubt that they do know…
"So, what was that explosion like? Even I only get rumours from the Ministry of Magic these days. They don't seem to be sure that it was caused by Death Eaters. Don't worry about what I may know already. Can you shed any light on the events for me?"
"I think so. If they claim to even marginally consider it might have been Muggle terrorists, or an accident, they must be blinder still than I thought. But then, they only arrived there about six hours later – all traces of magic had evaporated by then. Muggle police had thoroughly obliterated whatever would remain by their site search... Also, I got the idea that there were some officials on that team who did all they could to obliterate any further evidence in danger of showing... I stayed well out of sight, but close enough to gather some evidence, as long as I could take it."
"How did you survive at all?"
"I'll tell you, sir, but let me finish off the rumours first. There was a Dark Mark over the area right after the explosion, but the Muggle officials did not make a connection, probably considering it to be some sort of advertisement, and a coincidence. It was big, but weak, fog-like, and vanished very soon. For all I know it was not even mentioned in the Muggle press who are always so keen on spotting unusual or mysterious sightings, the more so on sites of violent accidents... It seems that Lord Voldemort was undecided between inducing panic and merely wreaking havoc and causing confusion.
"I do think that some of Lord Voldemort's Muggle friends might have been involved…"
"Muggle police said that the explosives used were of an unknown type, if explosives it had been at all. Some Muggle papers claimed that there were no traces of explosive charges found, nor any shards or shrapnels, nor had there been gas pipes on the site. What a big surprise!
"Actually, the police have found traces of Muggle explosives on some metal pieces of the basement air shafts that they recovered elsewhere in the area, but from what I gathered, the charges were nowhere nearly strong enough to blow up the whole place. I believe that is what Voldemort used as a cover, and to confound the Muggles. They now seem to believe that by some accident explosive gases, like methane, had been building up in the basement, and that what was planned to scare the developers, or an act of revenge by an employer, got out of hand. I think they are looking for environmental activists, too.
"Of the site itself, nothing was left but a hole – somewhat bigger than the excavation for the five-story-deep parking space under it had been. You know, for their smelly cars. There were no traces left for the Police to draw definite conclusions from.
"Electricity and water supplies were disrupted most of the day in the whole neighbourhood for some square miles around and, until all gas pipes in that district were taken off the net, fires flared up in unlikely places. They had suffered from the impact.
"There were no clues to external influences or foul play of any relevant size and order, while official press releases spoke of a terrorist attack at first. But there were none of the usual letters of recognition from groups, known or unknown, terrorists or otherwise, internal or international, political enemies of the Muggle government or of the Ministry of Magic... I am sure the whole thing will be put down to construction mistakes, be followed up with one of those eternal trials, and the case closed on an accident of sorts eventually. Very likely, no-one will have to pay the families for damage done.
"The toll this took was high. So far, the count seems to run to more than 140 dead, 127 of which were identified as workers of the firms finishing the site. There will be some among the toll that I knew…I had no friends at work, most of my colleagues were a rough lot, yet… No-one deserves this…
Silva composed herself.
"The others are presumed to be passers-by, not all of whom could be identified yet, and another 19 persons are still missing, among them yours truly, I suppose.
"The papers say the on-site excavations will continue all through next month... Clearing all the affected area, which is several square miles large, will take months, according to Muggle officials. They are of course trying to pinpoint the source of the explosion. It will be, in my estimation, absolutely useless. The last paper I had I got on the train yesterday. So far, there have been no claims or confessionals whatsoever by possible perpetrators, as I said."
Smiling mirthlessly, Silva continued:
"I survived by my need to not only have a very late lunch, but a desire to have it in fresher air, too, or at least in a greener environment, at a distance from the site. I was in a small park some streets away when it happened. The explosion was tremendous, blowing windows out of houses even around the square I sat in. A hail of plaster and shrapnels of metal rained down around me when I hurried to get back to my work and the phone on the 17th floor to find out what was up, and you can imagine my shock when I reached the site... There was the Dark Mark up in the sky, fading already…
"The place was bristling with rescue personnel in no time, so I decided I was not needed. I mixed with the passers-by, and took my leave after watching for some hours in different spots, when I saw Ministry of Magic officials arrive. The Dark Mark took about a half hour to evaporate entirely. I saw no-one I knew, magical or Muggle.
"Luckily, I'd taken my bag to lunch which contained a change of fresh work clothes... Which are those that you see here now... I've always had everything in there I'd really need, just in case... I admit that a different set of clothes would have been a good choice. Those were blown up with the changing room on the construction site though, I am afraid…
Albus Dumbledore noted a twinge of hysteria in Silva's voice that he'd never heard before. The events must have shaken her profoundly – the Snapes were an imperturbable sort really…
Silva inhaled deeply and continued in a calmer tone.
"I'd been suffering from the urge to meet Severus increasingly, for days. Eventually, it became unbearable. I headed north unerring, like the needle of a compass points – so here I am."
There was a pause.
The witch continued: "So, as far as wizardkind is concerned, this was a clear enough warning, and with regard to its representation in the press, there is an obvious and massive cover-up by Ministries, Muggle or otherwise, Albus. I don't think many of those working there got it, not to mention Cornelius Fudge..."
The old wizard and the not-so-old witch regarded each other with sorrow.
Albus pulled something from a drawer in his desk and handed it to Silva. After describing the events much like Silva just had but saying that no indications of magic had been found, it stated that among the victims of this severe accident, and believed to be dead, was one Silva Snape. No other wizards had been detected, dead or alive, ex-, Dark, or otherwise. It looked official.
"Severus gave me this. It was issued within hours of the explosion, and sent to him by way of notifying him of the probable demise of a relative. Which is amazing, as you will agree."
"I bet he did hand it to you gleefully, right."
"No, Silva, that he did not."
"Neither will you be able to convince me that it darkened his mood in a way worth mentioning, or that he did shed a tear, Headmaster."
Silva glared at him, and Dumbledore lowered his head. She was much like her brother in some ways…
The Headmaster then pulled out another paper. This was a Ministry note charmed top secret. Since Silva would not be able to read it herself for that reason, so the Headmaster read it out to her. To her surprise, Silva found that the Ministry of Magic was not quite so blind as she'd feared. An attached note said that the whole thing, for a variety of reasons, was very likely You-Know-Who's doing, major indication being the sighting of the Dark Mark above the area right after the event and by thousands of Muggle commuters – most of whom seemed to have believed it to be some sort of advertisement for some upcoming spectacular event of some kind, and still did. It also stated that no other traces of magic had been found, meaning that the Ministry had no idea how the explosion had been brought about. This information was to be kept confidential at all costs, as the Ministry wished to avoid an outbreak of panic.
"I've alerted the wards of Hogwarts to the probability of your arrival, strongly hoping that you'd not be dead but had used your chance, and would come here, too... I was actually quite sure of both. I would have known, otherwise.
"Previous times, when you reported here, I thought I detected in you an increasing weariness of the Muggle world..."
They smiled at each other.
"You do realise what this means?"
"Yes. This was done, down to such details as having comparatively harmless charges of Muggle explosives placed in the debris, to show power to the Ministry – to proclaim absolute contempt of Muggle life… To let the wizard-Muggle relations departments on either side of the fence know... To pry them apart if possible..."
"Right. Only too right, Silva..."
They did not speak for quite a while, both lost in ruminations.
Dumbledore seemed to be waiting for something. When Silva did not speak, he cleared his throat.
"But that is only part of the affair. There is another thing, too. Do you think, Silva, that Malfoy might have confronted you to let you know that he is aware of your connection to the site of the attack, and that he might try to pin some blame for the events on you? Why, do you think, did the Ministry of Magic declare your dead within hours of the attack? You may have been observing the spot. That particular construction site might have been chosen for just this reason… You do realise, dear, that you are a suspect, and might be wanted for questioning? Your flight doesn't help there either."
Silva blanched.
"You're... You are kidding, Albus! He can't…"
"You are mentioned in that note, Silva. So someone knew all along where you were, and that was no Order member. This does infer that Lucius Malfoy might know more about the matter than he should – and he's still in good grace with the Minister…"
"You think he might try to blackmail me?"
"Yes. And if he speaks up, the very least thing to happen will be the Ministry hauling you in to hear your account of the matter. Right now, I think, we can get away with just keeping you here and ignoring the situation, but they might get wind of this eventually… At some point, we may have to find that Muggle who introduced you to the worshippers of Voldemort."
"I've not looked at it like that… That declaration reminds me…"
"Of that of Peter Pettigrew's death, yes. Dead suspects are very convenient sometimes."
Silva shuddered.
"I am happy to know that the Dementors are not in the service of the Ministry anymore even if they constitute a threat to everyone now, but I wonder what else Fudge will come up with..."
Both wizards were unable to make anything of affairs beyond those facts at this time, but the future would likely tell, and both of them felt that this might turn out to be a tale they could do well without.
Silva sipped some wine, trying to compose herself.
"I'll go on, then," Albus said. "Two days passed without any sign of your showing up before I got that report, without any further remark, and I did start to worry...
"Intermittently, neither the Ministry's Emergency Squad nor the Muggle police detected any clues as to the cause of the explosion – no explosives in sufficient amounts, no further sightings of the Dark Mark, no letters of confession; and no call to his master for Severus, either. This paper is all I've got, and no other Order members, not even the Aurors, have had further information, or mere rumours, to add.
"I have to state that within those few days, your brother's unease became very apparent – he expected a message concerning your whereabouts, not believing in your death at all. I do think his greeting might have been a show of relief even…"
"Oh Albus, you just were not there! It wasn't, I assure you!"
The young home-comer was very aggravated by Dumbledore's apparent partiality to her brother.
"Just don't mention it, will you, please?"
The Headmaster remained firm. "I've means to make sure I know if Severus is in a state of unrest, in case he has to leave and can't manage to let me know in time. I assure you he was."
"Afraid of being called before his former master, more likely! Let's not, Albus."
"No. Sorry, Silva."
He smiled at her widely.
"So, welcome back once more to the wizarding world, and alive, Silva Snape!"
She returned a half-smile.
They sat in amiable silence, drinking to each other. Fawkes had settled on the high back of Silva's chair, and gone to sleep some time ago.
Eventually, Silva said: "It seems we can't avoid the subject of Severus, as much as I'd like to. My brother did unkindly point out that you might want to see me right away and would, unlike him, care indeed for the news I'd bring... As if I wouldn't know...
"He himself did not care at all when, and why, I went to see him first after all that time, and not you... 'As usual,' he said – this infers he knows that I've been around occasionally... Did you know he knew?"
"I never told him that you reported to me..."
"Of course you did not. But he knows," interrupted Silva.
"I suspected as much."
"What did you tell him?"
Dumbledore merely shook his head, eyebrows raised at her disbelief.
"You know that he's got his ways of coming by information – which is part of what makes him so valuable, a real asset for both sides. I share part of the tidings you bring but, just like with my other sources, I of course never reveal how I did come by them."
After a pause, Silva said: "I AM tired, Albus. I had to force my news on him... It is almost impossible for me to tell anyone else, but you have to know...
The old wizard nodded.
"I can see, Silva, that you do need some rest. How long did you take to come here? I guess you were unable to sleep?"
"True enough, sir. And four days it was, most of them on foot – one longer stretch by a Muggle train – that was where I managed to pick up some more magazines and papers –, that went in just the right direction, and another by car, hitch-hiking... My pain and unease increased all the time. I could even not make detours but had to go as the crow flies…"
"So it is time for him, isn't it? And for you as well…" Dumbledore was grave, but not overly troubled.
Their eyes met again, and the gentle smile of the old wizard seemed to soothe Silva. A bit of the destitution left her bearing. That was to be a momentary relief only though.
"You do know then what else brought me here so suddenly... It is the Calling, Albus... I am Severus' Younger Sister, to state the obvious, and I have been Called! I have never believed in this – rumour... I don't think our parents did, or Severus either! The last time it supposedly happened was about 350 years ago, long enough ago to be nothing but weird hearsay even among witches – even within our own family! Not that anyone wanted to talk about it anyway!
"I had to run here like driven, due north by northwest. I think I'd have found him anywhere in either world simply by running there – like a post owl... I could not stop once I had reached the Dungeons; I just had to get close to him!"
Silva tried to regain her composure, but making light of matter did not quite work.
"In the olden times, I assume, it was inconceivable of a lady of the Soniverirus not to be in possession of a broom, or to be unable to Apparate, or to find due assistance with magical transport, or to be at any distance worth mentioning at all to the brother her whole life pertained to anyway... I have never believed in those stories, as I said... I hoped to be spared – no – I actually never ever considered such a thing to be possible! I was sure it was all rubbish – in fact was sure it would never happen to me... Now it has..."
Silva did not cry, but she was crushed. Her agitated voice trailed off. The headmaster was shaken by the despair in it, and by her urge to escape this destiny.
The Calling, then. Dumbledore nodded thoughtfully, his eyes closed. She had never been one to accept things given, even if there was no conceivable alternative to them… He hoped that she would not refuse this time – that would mean to lose her for good.
It was a Rite and tradition that would be considered barbaric by most everyone, these days... Ancient... Not that that made any difference, it seemed – it could not be broken. The spell was listed in books on Higher Magic as exemplary by its thoroughness and irrevocability, and for durability, without of course naming the victims…
"Have you gained Confirmation by him?"
"Yes... But it was not given deliberately, I made him... That is what sustains me right now, the force of it. Else I would not be here, talking to you. Oh, and how he hated it... I threw it on him... Severus will approach you about the – that family curse of ours tonight, too. I could not stop myself... I was starting to bleed internally..."
Silva seemed to be shaking with guilt and fear now, and this pained the old wizard more than anything else. There was nothing to be done about it.
The young witch controlled her panic and continued: "I did not know it would be so bad, Albus! Downstairs, in front of his classroom today, it would have killed me! I had to force myself on Severus! I had to do it, myself! I hate it!
"My urge and pain floored me in the corridor, after our first encounter. I shudder to think what the children must have thought! Harry was fair enough though… I don't think I could have hold out much longer…
"It was only by Peeves' interference that I could get close enough to Severus to make him Confirm, against his will."
Silva Snape sighed.
"I really, really hate it, Albus! Is there no way to stop it, so that we might be spared? If you don't know of any, no-one will. Can't you undo it, stop it? I am sure neither I nor Severus are too keen on continuing this particular bloodline... He even said as much to me! For good reasons, too... And never, ever, in this manner! Oh Albus, please help me!"
Silva Snape was frantic by now, her mood changing between desperation and something bordering on hysterical fits. This was very much out of character with her. It would pass, too...
The old wizard just looked at her, quietly, compassionate, and waited until she calmed down somewhat.
He said: "Yes, Silva, I do know about the Rite – and while very unhappy to say so, I am certain that the ancient magic of it cannot be broken."
"I... I had so hoped that you... Albus!"
"Not by me. Neither by an acting High King or any known corporeal authority. The Call will have to be heeded."
Silva looked as if about to break down.
"Severus said you might take care of it..."
Albus Dumbledore mutely shook his wizened head.
After a moment, Silva inhaled deeply and let out a sigh.
She decided to ask the question that bothered her most besides events.
"Do you – do you think the Rite could have been avoided before the Confirmation? Or if I had recognised the Calling early on for what it was?"
"No, Silva. The price would have been your life – and will be still in any case if you refuse the Rite – that is the one way out, a way that is never barred, do you get me? A terribly painful way though, I reckon, because the curse is build to keep the Younger Sister alive and… fertile by any means necessary. Should you succeed your brother's death would ensue. I am afraid I will not be able to tell him otherwise."
"Severus said you..."
Silva stopped herself in mid-sentence, realising it was no use. She was completely crushed now, and utterly exhausted.
"He does not want you around, now does he?"
"No..." Silva looked at the floor. "Not at all. And I do understand that. He has not until today forgiven me my running away, and what I come back with, finally, is worse...
"That dratted curse!"
In an attempt do change the subject, the witch said wearily: "Maybe Severus himself alerted Lucius to look out for me... Not that that would make sense…
Silva got into it. This was a point to be considered, after all.
"I am sure that Lucius did not fail to notice my restlessness and my impulse to head north when we met – I stumbled more than once when I was with him, and was hardly able to concentrate on his words, or follow when he led the way in a direction off my heading. This could have been deliberate, too – so, Lucius Malfoy of all people might have gathered that I've been Called. I am sure he could know about the curse, having been the closest thing to a friend of Severus' as a student – and being a Malfoy, living in the ancient tradition, in a manor with a library second to none but our own. He knows that Severus has no children, and I am sure the boys were very much interested in subjects like that curse…
"Even if no-one can know today what being Called looks like with a Younger Sister, he might have figured it out – I'm sure that Lucius knows quite more about the Calling than most wizards due to the connection our families have – he might have figured out what I was up to.
"I have no idea what the Snape Elder Brother, the heir, is told upon maturity, and what my brother might have passed on of that to his fellow Death Eaters… If I am right, Voldemort knows by now. On the other hand, I have no idea of what use all that could be to the Dark Lord..."
Dumbledore nodded ponderously. Fawkes flew over to settle on Silva's lap, cat-like, and wizard and witch sipped their wine in silence for some time.
"Albus – what can I do? May I still stay, now that you know? Be an assistant to – what was her name – Professor Sprout? I cannot go away, I know that..."
"My dear, I insist that you stay! Do not ask this again!" the Headmaster said, slightly worried about Silva's distress.
After a moment, she breathed deeply and let out a sigh.
Dumbledore exhaled, too, but with exasperation.
"You obviously will have to stay. Do you honestly believe I'd turn you away in days like these? I shall employ you, like I said I would. Your brother will have to abide by that. I do wish to repeat that I am very happy about your return, and can see only good coming from it, do you hear me?"
The old Headmaster waited until Silva finally raised her head, met his look, and slightly bowed her neck in acknowledgement. They both felt the faint relief creeping into her heart, diluting destitution.
When the Headmaster was satisfied with her acceptance of his words, he said: "So now that at least is settled."
Dumbledore's eyes were not twinkling when he spoke, and his voice was firm. Those last words were very much an order: to leave the subject be for the time being, to stop worrying which never helped anyway, and to look toward the future in a composed manner. Silva had become one of the old Headmaster's charges; compliance was expected.
In a lighter manner, Dumbledore continued: "I'll see to quarters, and the assistance assignment for you will be settled immediately, too. It will be signed today. You need no excuses for your presence... I believe the head boy – respectively, head girl – quarters in the Slytherin dungeons are available, as these two are, this year, of Gryffindor and Ravenclaw. The room is quite close to Severus's own quarters, which should be convenient..."
Silva shivered, but nodded.
"You know where to find them?"
"I think so."
"So, if you want to clean up and change – you did not bring anything, did you?"
"Just what you see here... I want to burn those!"
"The closet there will cater you. Otherwise, ask an elf. If you loose your way, too."
"Thank you so much, Albus..."
The old wizard smiled at the woman before him.
"Do not worry anymore now, my dear Silva, but do have a bath and a change – you might wish to get some rest, too, after that ordeal of a journey here – and I would be very happy to greet you at our dinner table as a valued guest, for the time being. I want you to feel that you are more than welcome here, to me and all of us."
Silva Snape got up, smiling weakly.
"Albus, I do not know how to thank you for your heart-warming welcoming of me always, and all the support you are giving me."
Dumbledore moved around his desk swiftly and gave her a hug, which had become a kind of ritual between them whenever she left after reporting. This time, it gave Silva a feeling of coming home and being acknowledged and accepted for what she was that she missed anywhere else.
"So, this time, it is not goodbye, and I will be very happy to let you have your wand back soon..."
----------------
In the very moment Silva turned to leave, there was some commotion on the revolving staircase, then a sharp knock on the office door.
The door sprang open, and Severus Snape barged in without waiting to be called, his movements more swiftly abrupt and brusque than usual if that was possible at all.
He gave no sign whatsoever of surprise at his sister's presence or of noticing her, but said: "Albus, I have to have word with you, urgently."
The old wizard made his reserve at the interruption felt, but nodded.
"Severus."
Silva's exclamation held no hint of excitement or surprise either, but was merely the acknowledgement of her brother's sudden presence in the same room, and a demand for the same from him.
He did, at least, not pretend to not have heard, and turned to her fully.
"Ah, here is the harbinger, the dark crow before the storm – the scarecrow, should I say, considering the outfit? Still not cleaned up yet? Sometimes it crawls, sometimes it flies, but bad news are always at heel, are they not?"
The cruelty of his words was deliberate, and meant to kill.
A pause.
Albus Dumbledore stared at the intruder as if in expectation. He had to contain an impulse to hex his Professor, or smack him square in the face at the very least.
Snape's pose was one of contemptuous wariness or of waiting, as if ready to draw his wand in case his sister should attack him, but without any tension; he was merely not taking her serious in any manner. He denied accepting her presence and mission by that, but was prepared for everything that would ensue.
"You will, of course, Headmaster, stop these silly goings-on? It can't be allowed. She can't stay, that's impossible."
"She will stay, Severus, and that is final."
Snape did not look at his sister, but straight through her, just like he had when Silva had last seen him – like he had done during the final days before her flight almost a quarter of a century years ago, once she had made clear that she'd deny and fight him. No worse insult than this was possible, expressed with his entire wizard's power, and all of his bearing. To him, this equalled her presence.
But Silva Snape was not intimidated easily. She did not let fly at her Elder Brother, but ignored his demeanour in her turn: "My brother – spare me half an hour!"
Dumbledore hated the deference in the young witch's tone of voice, but she seemed to stand up straight enough.
Severus Snape snorted.
"Now?"
Silva ignored this, but stared at him. Obsidian eyes were probably resting on her now, without impact, not taking in anything and devoid of expression as true blackness must be. Maybe his look was focussed on some portrait on the wall behind her. It was impossible to say. Neither of the two did move for quite some time, glaring at each other unblinkingly. Like a draught, the Headmaster felt the strong flow of reading and occluding, and anger, run back and forth.
Dumbledore watched this scene, taken aback yet fascinated. That man had met and talked to his sister today for the first time in more than 20 years. She was his only close relative alive, and one he used to love dearly. Snape had received tidings of great importance to his benefit by her, yet he behaved as if he hardly knew the woman before him, and treated her with a contempt that was worthy of the Dark Lord.
At first, the Headmaster felt great pity for Silva. He intensely disliked Snape's disgraceful show of contempt as it happened, feeling to be an unbidden bystander. Also, he felt the strong wish that Severus Snape might relent and not be the merciless and bitterly unforgiving man he knew him to be; and a strong urge to shake him into acquiescence. Yet with growing apprehension, the Headmaster realised that the man's sister, though younger, lighter by far in build, colour, and bearing, and utterly exhausted as she was, did not relent herself in any way and was fully up to the challenge, something not many wizards alive could claim for themselves.
She had a strength of her own to match her brother's, something that was, in its own way, by no means gentler, or more accommodating and compliant, than the Potions Professor's power of will.
Dumbledore realized that Silva Snape stood her ground firmly, and would not need anyone's assistance to be a match for that dark and brilliant Master of Potions who, Dumbledore hoped very much, was an ally, now and in the future.
Students, Silva thought fleetingly, would probably have dropped dead from fright by now under that particularly intimidating basilisk's gaze, or turned to stone. She hoped he spared them that one... But then, his actual appreciation of her presence was not necessarily more comfortable. She knew she minded neither. He was Severus Snape, her Elder Brother.
After what seemed an eternity of battling minds, Snape nodded, curtly.
To the Headmaster, the room seemed to exhale upon the Professor's nod, or maybe it had been himself, or the two contestants – for a fight this had indeed been, a duel of wills.
"In about a half-hour, in the dungeons. Make sure to be punctual. May I speak to the Headmaster now, alone?"
He was curt, but almost as in courteous, after all. Just lacking a good half of the letters to the word, for the feeling, Silva thought distractedly.
"Thank you, my brother, and see you then..." She almost bowed to him.
Silva's servility disturbed the Headmaster greatly, almost making him cringe, but he was sure that it must be due to the curse that the Calling was.
Silva turned and slowly took off toward the door. Her exhaustion was palpable.
Neither of the two men spoke right away.
Taking in the Potions Professor's powerful presence before him, Dumbledore remembered how he had never understood that woman's acquiescence to this man who was her brother. He had marvelled at it so many years ago, and finally realized that this very deference of hers was one major reason why he still wished at times that someone got manners, or decency, or some deference, into the man as well – by any means necessary. Albus knew that Silva Snape's behaviour was owed in great parts to the peculiar relation between Elder Brothers and Younger Sisters in the Snape family, but that made no difference to his feelings – it rather strengthened his distaste. Why could not Severus, who was fully aware of the situation as well, show some consideration for his sister?
The Headmaster respected his Potions Professor's immense capabilities, and held him in high esteem. He even liked Severus Snape – at times, that was, considering him a friend, in a manner of speaking. But on occasions like these… The resentment that he felt rise again now might once have been part of the reason that certain students who had abused Severus badly when still a boy had not been punished... For injustice done… Old sins.
Even the boy Snape had already had an aura about him that made amiable characters cringe, and everybody else wanting to beat the shit out of him if they dared, to see that snotty arrogance destroyed, to hear him beg for mercy... They had not succeeded there. And this had not really changed: no amount of torturing applied by the offended or, for that matter, the allies he'd once chosen, had changed the man, or made him more personable.
Silva Snape very likely was the only person who loved him unconditionally, and would do so forever, and did not feel offended or intimidated by him – at least, not all of the time... She surely had suffered enough by that arrogant Elder brother of hers in other respects.
The lucidity of Dumbledore's momentary dislike of the wilful boy which he seemed to remember before him, and the exact same thing which he appeared to feel right now toward the man, the powerful wizard that boy had become as he'd promised he would, amazed himself. Dumbledore realised that this polarisation, this highlighting of emotions in others that Snape's presence invariably brought about, was actually an asset that had turned out to be most valuable already…
"Severus, I do not wish you to bid my visitors leave my office."
His Professor stared at him – not through him, as he had done with his sister, but directly and defiantly –, and was clearly considering an answer, but did not speak up. Never apologise...
When Dumbledore remained silent, Snape eventually said: "Right – so she's back again. Not for good, I do hope? I can always tell with you, Albus, when she's been here. She changes your disposition towards me more than anything else. I must appear truly hateful by comparison."
A plain statement. The Potions Professor now looked at the floor, shuffling his large feet.
Dumbledore stared back at him, a little fazed. So Severus had indeed known, all along, just like Silva had said and he himself suspected. And was he fishing for compliments, in a situation like this?
Probably not. Severus Snape had spoken without emphasis, with utter disregard whether he was really despicable to someone or not, or what Dumbledore's or anyone else's judgement or opinion of his person and behaviour might be. Yet his words reflected the old Headmaster's thoughts so precisely that he almost felt caught.
"I must ask you to not allow this! She can't stay; nothing but trouble will ensue."
Dumbledore wondered if Severus Snape did not understand the nature of the Calling himself. This would be unusual. Severus was demanding his own death and that of his own sister… The Headmaster thought that his Professor was probably so very much distressed by the course events had taken that he needed time to face the facts. That he was as averse to the going-on as his sister was plain.
Severus Snape also spoke as if his sister was not present at all any more – which Silva would not have been indeed, had she not stopped in her tracks on her way out when she heard Dumbledore address her brother so harshly. With a faint feeling of anger, Silva took in the arrogance of her brother's implicit assumption that he could not possibly have interrupted anything of import between them by his intrusion.
The Potions master spoke again. Still there was none of the usual bile in his tone, if there was in the words.
"You do realize that her loving presence worked as much toward getting me tortured by my schoolmates as did her attempts to stop and to get them off my back, don't you, sir?"
'Back to sir, then, Severus?' Dumbledore thought. Well, he could be formal, too, if that was what the time was. He glanced at the big clock. It was indeed.
"That was in no case her purpose. You know that. However, Professor, that is not and was not up to me to judge. And it was a long time ago, too."
"Aah."
A drawn low sound, silky and smooth, not giving away much besides the reason for its existence, which was indeed telling enough in itself. So much disappointment and bitterness and unforgiving hate – self-hate? – in the man!
The Headmaster would not have it.
"Since you have successfully finished my meeting with your sister, you might as well go on and tell me what brought you here in such a hurry. It must be urgent, I gather, so you might want to make it fast."
Silva could not help but watch that exchange utterly fascinated, but feel, too, that she should have been gone from the Headmaster's office right away. Without a sound, she slipped out now, before the Headmaster would again acknowledge her presence. She had never seen the old wizard act harsh like that. It was flattering to think that it had been on her behalf. Yet she could not help but feel hurt for her brother who'd been on the receiving end, and justly so. The Headmaster would not know how he hurt him, but she had read the pain in Severus like in an open book… Silva shook herself. She must indeed be mad to even consider pitying him! The bastard! This all was part of why she'd run away, too: not being able to help feeling part of what he felt. She would practice her Occlumency again – that used to help some, at least.
"Has my wretched sister told you why she came this time?"
Dumbledore nodded, replying: "Because of you, to cut it short."
Severus Snape stared at him.
"That is not the correct way to put it, I think, Headmaster."
Still not back on a first-name basis, are we...
"Which would that way be, then? It is one rather adequate way to put it, in any case."
On those words, the door closed behind Silva, and the stair spiralled downwards, taking her with it.