The incessant tapping on his window finally drilled through his groggy, drunken haze.
Shoving aside tangled blankets, stumbling over the shoes he'd kicked off at some point in the night, Severus threw open his bedroom window, allowing the bird entrance. He took the envelope from its mouth, and watched as it sailed cleanly out again, not even waiting for the usual obligatory treat. Which served well, since he never kept any on hand.
Few were the letters Severus Snape received.
The familiar Hogwarts crest rose from the red wax sealing the parchment, and the sight of it made him groan. Flipping it over, he noticed the usual perfect scrawl of the deputy headmistress was absent, replaced by the short, loopy style of the headmaster himself. This wasn't merely a notice of some kind, or a boring announcement.
Bloody hell. I'm too hung-over for this.
The insomnia had returned, and he'd tossed and turned in his bed, staring at the ceiling until, at some godforsaken hour, he gave up, storming downstairs, and pulled out the bottle of whiskey. He hadn't been angry enough for vodka, and he hadn't been pleased enough for rum.
And he never, ever, touched tequila anymore.
Ironically, he never had to drink a large amount to find himself in a drunken stupor. Contrary to what his students, and likely fellow faculty, presumed, he had a fairly low tolerance to alcohol. He never could understand how Malfoy managed to drink so much and not kill himself, the few times they actually socialized outside their respective homes. So, for him, a few long, deep swallows of the burning liquid was sufficient.
Instead of returning to his own bed, he stumbled up the stairs to the guest room, flinging himself on his childhood bed, the small, confining room for once being a haven for him. At least in here, he didn't reach over for the feel of another warm body, or breathe in the scent of jasmine all around him. And in here, the incessant dwelling over every word, every action, every mistake of the past few days didn't reach him.
Fuming, he sat down on the bed and opened the seal on the parchment, his eyes scanning the words quickly.
My office. One hour. I'll have coffee waiting for you.
How did the bastard know he was out of coffee?
A quick shower and a shave, a change of clothing, and several quick charms to straighten his home later, and he found himself ready to finally floo himself back to the school. With a grimace, he stepped into his fireplace, and out into the headmaster's office.
As promised, a rather large mug of coffee was waiting for him.
"Headmaster." With an incline of his head, he settled himself into the chair directly opposite Dumbledore, reaching for the coffee in front of him.
"Severus, would you care to explain to me what Professor Sinistra is doing in her apartments when I clearly instructed you to keep her at your home until further notice?"
"Because she insisted, and frankly, I'm not exactly desiring to have her temper aimed in my direction any more than absolutely necessary."
"Well, I thought her safety would be paramount…"
"Her safety isn't in jeopardy. Her own brother poisoned the wine."
That stopped Dumbledore. He stared across his desk at the younger man. "What?"
Well, clearly he doesn't know everything.
Severus sank back into the chair, the coffee tasting like ambrosia to him. "I received a visitor last night. Claudius Sinistra, looking for his sister." His black eyes narrowed in bitter anger. "Informing me that I was harboring the sister of one of the inner circle of Death Eaters should have been one of those tidbits of news you provided me with before sending me off to my home with an unconscious vampire in my arms."
"With a name like Sinistra, I would have assumed you would have discussed it already."
"Oh, right. And break that little vow you made me take years ago about not discussing my prior occupation with anyone inside these walls save yourself?"
Dumbledore merely nodded his head slightly. "Excellent point. However, it doesn't explain how Claudius Sinistra found you, nor how you discovered he poisoned his sister's wine. From everything I know of the man, harming Selene would be the farthest thing from his mind."
"Malfoy came to visit me, and Selene made the untimely mistake of coming downstairs. He saw her, they bickered back and forth, and he left, presumably to tell Claudius, because within hours he was on my doorstep." The coffee mug was empty, and with a smug little grin, Dumbledore refilled it with a gesture. Sighing, Severus continued. "So, there I am with the eldest and youngest Sinistra siblings, listening to what is likely an age-old argument between the two, when Claudius lets slip that Selene received the wrong bottle of wine. Turns out Greyback had asked for the wolfsbane wine to take care of a traitor in his midst." His words took a knowing lilt with those last few words.
Dumbledore's eyes grew large. "You don't think…"
Severus shook his head. "It's not Lupin. Greyback would just kill him outright if he knew. My guess is, the need for a subtle death in the pack would indicate a much higher-ranking member of his little gang of flea-ridden sycophants. One whose clear murder would cause him more trouble than its worth to him. Have Lupin do his usual snooping around, he'll likely find the answer."
The headmaster breathed a sigh of relief. "So, knowing that Professor Sinistra's poisoning wasn't malicious doesn't explain you disobeying me."
"I didn't. She made the choice herself. I merely didn't stop her."
"Any particular reason why?"
The black eyes narrowed further. "With all due respect, none I care to share with you."
Now, the blue eyes filled with a slight amusement. "Well, that is an interesting reply indeed."
"Last I knew, private discussions between myself and another professor were still truly private."
Dumbledore waved his hand absently, rising to offer a treat to Fawkes, who clearly had had a burning day recently. "Yes, yes. I meant no insult, Severus. However, what's done is done. Unfortunately, I cannot prevent Professor Umbridge from going to question her on her absence. Nevertheless, rest assured that Professor Sinistra's trip to Alaska for research purposes with an old colleague will be sufficient cause to justify her leave, I believe. She accepted my word, at least, as to your home visit with your Aunt Medusa, so all is well."
With a roll of his eyes, Severus set the mug down and left the office, fuming the entire way to his workroom, determined to work on some random complicated potion.
Perhaps the exactness needed would distract his mind.
The incessant knocking on her door roused her.
Groaning, Selene wrenched herself from the bedding, snatching her robe from its usual spot, draped over a chair, and slid into it before letting in her visitor.
"Ah, Professor Sinistra. I do hope this isn't an…inappropriate time?"
The high-pitched, clipped tones and the insinuation dripping off Delores Umbridge's voice immediately made her skin crawl. Clutching her robe closed, she took in a deep breath and replied as calmly as possible. "I was sleeping since I'd stayed up late working, but I assume I have a few moments. To what do I owe this visit?"
Without waiting for an invitation, Professor Umbridge led herself into Selene's living room, perching herself on the end of her couch, looking at her expectantly, her creeping eyes taking in closed curtains and the bag still tossed on the floor. "I assume that, before you left on your little trip, that you had received a copy of the Educational Staffing Decree number seventeen?"
Rolling her eyes, Selene tightened the sash of her robe and settled herself into her armchair, shaking her head. "The last such Staffing Decree I remember receiving was, I believe, number sixteen, focusing on topics of research deemed acceptable for Hogwarts professors. So, no, I had not received any number seventeen. Pray tell, what was the contents of that particular decree?"
Umbridge's eyebrows shot up for a moment, then she regained her usual, somehow repulsive, calm. "I believe that Staffing Decree seventeen was scheduled to arrive the morning that you left, therefore you should have received it."
"Ah." Selene smirked at the professor, gaining a bit of pleasure from her distasteful grimace. "See, I left the evening before. Therefore, I would not have received this decree. So, what desperately important information did I miss?"
Umbridge cleared her throat in annoyance at Selene's dismissive attitude. "Hem hem. Educational Staffing Decree Seventeen states that any absences from the school at any point in the academic term requires approval from the High Inquisitor, that is to say, me. Any violations of this decree can result in immediate suspension as deemed necessary by the High Inquisitor, once again, me. Because of this, we need to have a discussion, considering I did not approve your leave." A look of triumph was stretched across her toadlike visage.
It disappeared within seconds.
"Was the Decree retroactive?"
"I beg your pardon?"
Selene leaned forward, talking slowly, enunciating every syllable. "Was the decree retroactive? Did it cover any pre-existing travel plans in the lettering of the document?"
Umbridge shook her head no, once, the motion barely visible.
Selene sat back, smirking again. "Then I fail to see what your approval has to do with anything."
Umbridge narrowed her eyes, giving her the appearance of a constipated frog. "Just because Professor Dumbledore informed me you were conducting observations in Anchorage…"
Selene cut her off immediately. "I have a standing commitment with a colleague who happens to run an observatory in Alaska. Every so often, she happens to have an opening in her schedule, and since it's mostly Muggle astronomers who use her observatory, I need every opportunity to observe that I can grasp. After all, the Northern Lights don't quite reach us here. The cloud cover, you see." Silently, she blessed the headmaster for the prearranged excuse, used any time Selene felt it necessary to sneak away from the school. In all these years, only three times had it been so. "Therefore, when I received her letter, I requested the week from Professor Dumbledore and left. It is not my fault that your Educational Staffing Decree arrived scant hours too late to prevent my leave. However, I will strive to ask your blessing before conducting my Ministry-approved research in future."
The chill of her tone was unmistakable.
Umbridge glared openly at the professor. "I wasn't aware, Professor, that you had such an arrangement. You never mentioned it to me when we discussed your research three weeks ago."
"You never asked."
"I asked you how you conducted your research."
"And I answered you honestly. By observing astronomical phenomena through telescopes, using mathematical logarithms, and interpreting star charts over several hundred years." Selene shrugged nonchalantly. "I would have assumed a professor intelligent and insightful enough to achieve the position of high inquisitor would have been able to logically deduce that not all astronomical events take place above the skies of Great Britain and, therefore, would necessitate occasional trips to observe elsewhere in the world."
Umbridge's voice remained her high-pitched usual volume, but her demeanor grew dark and menacing. "The next time, Professor Sinistra, you even contemplate trying to use semantics with me to get around rules that the Ministry of Magic sets in place in order to ensure the smooth functioning of this school, I will personally ensure you that Ministry officials will be involved in talks with you."
Selene almost growled in time with Galileo, who loudly made her unease known. "And the next time you dare attempt to threaten me, no matter how politely, Inquisitor, do yourself a favor and recall that I am not a citizen of Great Britain, and thus your Ministry officials can no longer touch me. As I recall, that law passed a scant dozen years ago. And I will personally ensure you that the Italian Ministerodi Magia will not give a damn for any number of Educational Staffing Decrees, and any violations of my rights will cause a rather unpleasant diplomatic situation. I am here because it seems that your educational system has short-sightedly ensured that the Astronomy curriculum was neglected for decades, thus necessitating my hiring from another country, and I have worked tirelessly to improve this academic field in your precious school. I would think your Ministry would be appreciative, but clearly you have a limited capacity for appreciating the backgrounds of your colleagues. " Selene rose, striding to her apartment door, throwing it open. "And one more thing, dear Inquisitor. The next time you endeavor to threaten someone, remember this – subtlety is by far not your strong suit. So, perhaps instead of trying to sneak around manners and polite words, you should come out and make it clear you're trying to intimidate someone. Good day."
When she slammed the door behind the wretch of a woman, Selene actually laughed in an odd euphoria of accomplishment.
Christmas morning dawned brightly, the sun reflecting off the thick snow that covered the castle grounds.
The normally cheery sight only managed to annoy Severus Snape even more than he was already.
Umbridge had managed to disrupt his work the afternoon prior, her usual effeminate personae shoved aside, her attitude curt and sharp. Even though she found nothing at fault with his excuse of visiting the fictionally-ill Great Aunt Medusa, she took the opportunity to make it perfectly clear that his alterations of the new term's curriculum was not, as of yet, on target with Ministry-approved guidelines.
His response hadn't pleased the Napoleonic-driven woman one bit.
At least you stopped before you told her what, anatomically, she could do with her commentary.
The complicated draught ruined by her ill-timed disruption, he'd stormed out of his workroom in a rage, flying down the halls to his apartment, slamming the door shut with gratification.
Christmas Eve, and all he had to show for it was a ruined potion and a furious disposition.
Blessing the lack of students remaining during these holidays, and the fact that he would, blissfully, be spared any socially-required attendance at a feast or gathering, Severus had showered and fallen asleep, deeply.
Deeply enough that he never heard the house-elf deliver the package.
He held that package now, wrapped in plain paper and twine, wrapped with care but without the usual affectations of color and good cheer. Instead, it was utilitarian, plain, as if the sender loathed the gaudy packaging usually attributed to holiday gifts.
Only one such person in the entire castle fit that logic.
You know, usually, people open their Christmas gifts fairly quickly, rather than standing in a castle window, holding it for an hour, brooding until they become almost formulaically worthy of a bad Muggle Gothic novel.
He seriously wondered if anyone else had such a loud and articulate conscience.
Untying the twine, he allowed the plain brown paper to drift away, holding a book, a small vial, and a note written in long, precise handwriting.
"You mentioned once, over coffee, how rare it was our disciplines ever collaborated. Here is proof that, while it is rare, it does occur. I hope this gift finds good use in your research."
No signature, no badly-scrawled 'Happy Christmas', no wishes of good cheer or shared affection.
It was probably the most perfect gift ever given.
His hand swept over the leather binding, turning the book to read the spine. 'Astronomy and Alchemy – a Shared Science'. Turning pages, he found not only academic discussions of the relationship between the two fields, but some instructions for perfecting existing potions as well as new ones entirely. One page gave him the clue for the identity of the mysterious white powder in the vial that he held absently.
Powdered meteor rock.
Such an ingredient was rarer than unicorn blood. Often, the cost of obtaining the ingredient far outweighed the usefulness and profit of the potion it enhanced. At the last time he had inquired into obtaining some, the cost had been quoted at three hundred galleons a gram.
The vial in his hand was worth a small fortune.
How in bloody hell…?
She's an Astronomer. One that does have Muggle connections in her field. Likely, she has sources no one else does.
The gift was beyond belief.
The sun was setting as she woke again, having slept poorly for the last day or so. Selene stretched, groaning, sitting up in the pile of bedding, turning to stare at Galileo, whose meowing had awoken her from fitful dreams. "Well, happy Christmas to you too."
Galileo rose, revealing a slender, plain-wrapped package on which she'd been perched.
Selene's eyes grew cautious. "What the hell is that?" Getting up from the bed, she reached for it, the scratchy feel of the plain brown paper catching her fingertips. Confused, she pulled it open, slowly.
A piece of paper, with spidery, even writing, faced her.
"I didn't remember seeing this in your collection. Hopefully I didn't make a judgment in error."
She shook her head. The terse wording could only come from one person. With the slightest of smiles on her lips, she finished pulling away the paper, gasping in shock.
Homer's 'The Iliad'. In original Greek.
Selene's fingers caressed the cracked leather binding, the pages crisp, yellowed with age. Clearly protected magically against further wear, the book was older than its appearance. She closed her eyes, holding it to her chest as she made her way to her living room, curling on the couch, thoughts going through her mind.
He got me a gift?
Well, didn't you send one as well?
That doesn't matter. Mine wasn't this personal. It was a gift from one colleague to another.
You don't know that. You spent all those days in his home. Did it look as if getting Christmas gifts was a regular occurrence?
But when did he find time to get this for me?
Maybe he made time before you got sick – same as you did.
The idea made her blush.