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Oh, its still Rowling's

and still rated M

This Chapter is slightly shorter, but what could I do Madam Pince doesn't like much talking... I'll make up for it by posting the next chapter sooner :)

I hope you'll enjoy it!

Chapter11. Sides of a coin

Severus Apparated to Spinner's End with the firm resolution he would not dwell on unfruitful thoughts. He wanted – he needed neutral ground, but first of all, proper rest and a good meal. Building up his stores and minding his own – very much mundane – business now felt liberating instead of a chore. He had a little more than a week to order his thoughts, and a little more than a week to contemplate what he'd learned from Dumbledore, and from Lucius and Dupont – two massively different lines for musings.

It was clear now that the Dark Lord didn't have blind youths to follow him the way he had fourteen years ago. Maybe the average followers rejoiced in his return, as a means of reviving the "fun," but leaders of society like the Malfoys and other distant houses of the old nobility grown into their roles now and perceived him as a tool to grab and maintain power.

Severus knew how dangerous their game was. They must know as much as he did now, the Dark Lord was never a tool, quite the contrary. He used everyone and everything within his reach, but it was hard to see that as an adolescent. Matured, and taking responsibility for their legacy, the noble houses' loyalty shifted from blind to pecuniary, thrusting the new reign to the theatre of politics and economic interest instead of some mythical uprising. He wondered if old Abraxas Malfoy had thought of the difference. Why did he let his son and his friends have an infatuation with the rising dark wizard? Or was that a part of the game?

Severus had no illusions about the prospect of their new behaviour. The Dark Lord was most likely to punish all who tried to reap his so-called glory, so he decided he wouldn't act on his latest information if Dumbledore only gave a chance. He was not as conceited as Lucius and those who thought their building bridges might go unnoticed, and however, his survival seemed more likely with a means to escape, like they seemed to believe. Joining the old houses would hinder his goal: preserving the boy.

With little sadness, he lamented the irony. He never had high hopes to survive his dubious dealings. Most of the time, death seemed salvation. Now, for the first time in more than a decade, he was not quite ready to throw his life away, driven by his curiosity what his intuition or what an other-worldly creature suggested he might achieve. He still wanted to stay away from a possible rescue and rely on Dumbledore and his almighty plans.

All said, the clear vision of Malfoy making way for his interests made Severus understand something fundamental. Something that clearly escaped the Order's notice: he was not the only one who had changed these last handful of years. It was up to Dumbledore how he wished to use this fact - if he ever intended to use it anyway.

He gathered his promise was the last link to connect him to Lily and not grief. He could not leave one more than the other, but if… if he fulfilled his promise, he might have a sense of that freedom he craved. Without Malfoy and without that ridiculous self-prophecy, or whatever, for sure as the hell was hot, he wouldn't fall in love again! He was way too cynical and disappointed to do so, and the supply of available witches seemed wanting, to say the least. Thus, better find some other means to keep the benefits of the deal he made without paying the dues.

About what Dumbledore told him? He was ready to learn wandless magic; although he had a vague presentiment, it was not exactly what he was initially looking for. Maybe a beginning. At the same time, he was not in a hurry to spend countless hours with the Dark Lord either. Better balk at that too and try his own approach.

Although he never noticed how utterly distrustful he proved himself in both his problems, Severus was satisfied with his decisions and let his days at Spinner's End sink into comfortable repetition.

In the mornings, he gave himself time to practice without his wand. That proved to be simple, so he pressed himself to lose the words of incantations too. Now, that was complicated enough to hold his attention and provide a much-needed intellectual challenge.

He ate simply, slept less, and visited with either the Malfoys or Dumbledore nearly every afternoon. Evenings belonged to his studies. It was a life he felt he could get used to, though he sadly severely lacked the means to maintain his more mundane needs.

Still, he managed to slip into August without too much surprise or excitement until its twelfth day, Potter's Ministry hearing. After the shock of the boy's impending expulsion, Severus wanted, needed to be around. Having no business with the kid, he decided on a short visit with Malfoy in the Ministry and sought him out with an excuse only to hear him brag about the imminent session of the Wizengamot.

Lucius was goading and celebrated his own congeniality shamelessly. He might have never thought about sending Dementors on Potter, but he had always been the first to use the cards already on the table.

Sheer panic gave place to cold-blooded boldness in a wink, and as soon as he got rid of Malfoy, Severus stepped in an abandoned office and hastily threw some Floo-powder into the hearth.

"Hogwarts, Headmaster's office!"

Albus Dumbledore was just tying up his robe; his breakfast tray lay on his desk between piles of letters and work. "Severus! What an early surprise!" – He plastered a smile on his face.

"I apologize, sir, but you must go to the ministry."

"I will, my boy, I will."

"No, Sir," – Severus shook his head, not hiding his apprehension. "You must go now! Malfoy…the Wizengamot is coming in session."

"He has nothing to do with the Wizengamot; we're just not there yet! What happened?"

Snape lost patience. "Lucius happened!" – He cried - "I already told you whatever you did, it was not yet enough! He is in charge of having the boy expelled, now he ensured his hearing is before the full body of the Wizengamot! And it begins right now!"

Showing more competence than most would have in his place, Dumbledore only nodded and stepped into the hearth.

"Maybe the chocolate -frog cards will not be enough…" – Snape offered as a parting thought as the headmaster's form twisted away within the green flames, but he could imagine Dumbledore would only twinkle and smile.

Left alone, Severus realized how hard it felt to breathe again, he would have loved to lean on the massive study-desk or crumple in an armchair, but the curious glances from all the portraits warned him against this. He had no intelligence to offer to them and did not need their gossip, so he hasted out of the office and leaned back on the door.

The full body of the Wizengamot. The genuine horror of the memory squeezed his eyes shut. Lucius mentioned him but did not throw him before the lions. Also, he did not need to, more than many knew about his ways. He could not believe when Karkaroff also put him up, but that was already after…oh, sweet Merlin! It might have been long ago, but he still felt faint.

When Moody collected him and wanted to send him to Azkaban, only Dumbledore's word stopped the monsters. He thought he did not care what became of him. He thought he did not care when his wand was taken, when he was beaten and tortured to testify. He thought nothing could offset him from his numbness after…after Halloween.

Then he sat in the culprit's chair before the full body of the Wizengamot, and magical chains intertwined his wrists. He has never been as frightened and naked in his whole life. Not when his father arrived home hammered, not when his bullies smashed him into the ground. Even in the Dark Lord's presence, he felt a narrow chance to fight back with occlumency and his wits, but tied to that chair, facing all those accusing eyes, he already knew the verdict before being questioned and was not offered a flash of chance.

Then came Dumbledore. Kept talking. And he was free to go. The old man took him back to Hogwarts, but he ran away and went all five ways until he could pay for it, not much at that point, but still a smaller poppy field and whatever the rest. The only thing he had no idea was how on earth he survived that, but the next crystal clear memory was listening to Dumbledore and believing him that Lily would want him to protect her child. Thus he went for no errands like that one ever since. But hell, how did it all come back just by saying out those same words in the same office?!

Severus fought hard against the surfacing memories trying to calm himself with deep breaths and Occluding. One thing he knew, he did not want to leave before he heard the news, only to lament on the outcomes until Dumbledore found a convenient time to contact him. A day at Hogwarts then.

His quarters' or lab's call was subdued by his earlier discomfort; this was not an occasion solitude would help. He decided to go to the library. The practical experience he had gathered in the last days raised questions he wanted to research someday. There's no time like the present. Unfortunately, he was in for a major surprise.

Madam Pince made use of the summer holiday dusting and re-cataloguing the tomes, and she had reached the restricted section, by the look of it, only a day before. The rare and precious rolls and books were piled in neat, but for an outside observer, unorganized towers, and although Pince was nothing if not helpful, finding anything was a challenge. The additional sense of being a bother only raised his annoyance and gave place to the old insecurity he usually believed he'd left behind in his troubled boyhood.

Thus he contented himself with two out of three tomes he was initially looking for and walked into the reading room like salvation waited for him there. As it happened, the encounter he walked into was far from redeeming.

No other but the disturbing French daughter of Mad-Eye sat by a desk, right across the door, and Severus halted with a grumble in his throat. However vexing he found her presence, he was still taken aback reading "au diable" from her lips. His French had never been good, but still, it was better than to take this as a compliment. After all he had to hear about her dealings, he found her rolling her eyes outrageous and did not hesitate to voice his disapproval using his well-practiced intimidating tone.

"If Dumbledore forgot to mention, you should be made aware, Beauxbaton, that the school-year here will not begin until 1st September."

For his intense surprise, a slow smile spread on the witch's face. "Why, I thank you! You are absolutely right. Albus felt no need indeed to mention it. I guess he thought all his staff was sufficiently preoccupied, so I would not be a burden. Who thought a wizard, like you, has so much time to pass idly?"

The phrases "a wizard, like you" and "passing time" fell from her lips like the greatest of offence, but Severus could not find affront in the wording.

"Are you just passing your time here?" – He asked back, noticing the tome on her desk. "The Evilest of Darkness, An Advanced Guide through the Night" – the exact tome he searched among Pince's piles in vain. Now, this was something any library-rats, such as he had always been, would have found a capital offence. "Some might think you're happier when exploding cauldrons somewhere out in the country air?"

Sage's eyes narrowed and betrayed her irritation, but her voice came softer than ever. "I am sure you must know," - she sighed – "as I hear the country air benefits you greatly. Now forgive my impatience, but would you please go back poison-licking? I have a mountain of work to finish here."

There was a vague sense of familiarity in their shared insults, and Severus nearly enjoyed his temper rising. "You wish," – he plastered an arrogant smile on his face and grabbed up the needed tome before he walked to a desk far enough from her.

About an hour went by, Severus trying to find a paragraph he hazily remembered, and Sage busy making her notes. Then the witch crossed the room and reached for the tome. Severus put his fingers on it before she could lift it from the desk.

"What about a duel to decide?" – Sage asked dryly, their eyes met with a silent clash of occlumency shields before Severus gestured to a sign on the wall. The poster showed two wands crossing in a red circle, and it read: NO DUELLING IN THE LIBRARY.

Sage grimaced. "Do you always play by the rules?"

"Meticulously."

She eyed him for a long moment, then she closed her eyes with a sigh like she counted ten. Eventually, she pulled out a chair and sat across him, leaning slightly on his desk.

"Shoot it!" – She asked, never breaking eye-contact. Her occluding showed her eyes darker, and Severus promptly decided he wouldn't pine after the improbable light colour of chocolate, even if the memory caused some unexplained tightness in his chest.

"Shoot what?"

"I saw you in Iris's memories. Wouldn't it be easier if you just asked?"

"I have no questions."

"The hell you don't."

Severus felt his temper rising. "Polla Poultron." –He called.

"My aunt?"

"She uses dark magic."

Sage smiled. "Like you never did."

"She killed muggles."

"After warning." She admitted thoughtfully. "Tell me, aren't you acquainted with a bunch of guys who envy what she's done?"

"I do not envy."

"You have no reason."

"She raised you."

"Common miscalculation." She chuckled. "No, that would be my grandmother."

Severus was aware of how much the witch enjoyed it when he sank into contemplation. "Did she teach you potions?" – he asked a trifle more politely.

"She taught me so much more than that - if this is what bothers you," she admitted again, now smugly. "My turn."

"No way," – Severus shook his head.

"You don't play fair," – she accused.

"I never claimed I did." – He returned with enough arrogance to drive most away he ever argued with, but not her. "Tell me about Jules Leroy!"

Now he needed no Legilimency to read the spite and repugnance flaring up in the witch's eyes. "Are you friendly with the worm?" – She asked back.

Severus shook his head again. "Why did you hex him?"

"I cannot see why it would bother you. He's still alive, against all reason." Sage leaned back on her chair.

Feeling the ice finally thawing under her feet, Severus pushed on: "Who is Mira?" –He asked, and marvelled at how the series of thoughts changed her features. Like her skin became transparent to show her adjourning emotions. Nothing held long enough to read them clearly, but they chased each other like clouds in the wind. Until she stood up.

"For you, she is the call that brought you the duel." – She said, surprisingly calm. "Enjoy the book."

Severus watched her retreating, and nothing felt right. He had already made the mistake of feeling something akin to compassion for this woman, only to learn how dangerous she was. He enjoyed her mind at a disturbing level, only to hear she was probably lying. Whenever he looked into her eyes, he was amused irrespective of what they discussed or how he felt about it, and just when he thought he could break through and understand something essential, she simply walked away!

Now, he could let her, but she kept Iris and through her the opportunity to ruin him as a spy whenever she chose. The only guarantee against this, her father, whom she scared and loathed, and the fact that Dumbledore trusted her. For the first time, he understood how empty and how inevitable these three words were. Dumbledore trusts her. For fuck's sake, it was not Dumbledore who would die if he happened to be wrong again! But he also knew the old man could not offer any more about him either. Dumbledore trusted him. Goddamn the old fool, it was not enough! – Severus decided, grabbed the "Evilest of Darkness an Advanced Guide through the Night," and with a few long strides crossed the reading room, putting the tome in front of the witch.

"No deal, Beauxbaton."

If he was pressed to match a word to her glance, he would have called her astonished. Severus went on using her momentary lapse in defence.

"Your father is annoyingly attached to the concept that I misunderstand you. Your reputation is in tatters in France, and here your only quality is Dumbledore's trust in you. I know that you understand more than what you reveal, and you want me to believe you want to help while I am the one to clean up after your cousin. Now the question is," – he measured every word with silent deliberation – "if you really want to be trusted, or are you sunken into self-pity so low that you do not care any more?"

She watched him through narrowed eyes, and this time he could not read her.

"I do care." –She said after a long pause. "I want to see them fall, and I will rejoice in it! Albus says it is impossible without you and the child he is trying to raise from a distance, so you have no reason to fear me. I would ally with anyone to see them fall and punished."

"Who is Mira?" – Severus asked again.

Sage closed her eyes for a long moment and stopped occluding, but he did not pry in her mind, although the offer was clear. Not this time. He wanted her to speak.

"Mira was my cousin, but we were raised together. Both of our mothers died, and we got into grandmere's care. I was the older, and had to learn to share, but it was not a chore, she was like a sister, and I loved her more than I can tell. You might thought this will be a revealing answer, but she is not the one you're looking for." – She looked hurt and accusing. "I'll tell you who she was. She was a gentle soul. A true romantic, a talent in Charms shining as bright as the sun! She detested Polla's ways and could never learn to like her when we visited. After Lennie took Iris, we had some peace in the family. Those were the years she grew up. But not long ago, Lennie's friends returned and celebrated Polla for all the wrong reasons. We were there, and they tried to use us like they used our cousin. All, except Leroy, at least we thought that. A fatal mistake!"

"I saw him courting you,"- Severus risked to mention to nudge her on.

Sage snorted. "Oh, we nearly got engaged! He asked for my consent, and dear old Aunt Polla encouraged me to accept. A day before I had to give my answer, Mira confessed to me she loved him. She said he was after her for a long time and promised the moon to take everything she had to offer." She shook her head and looked down, talking to the desk. "We don't read each other in the family as a rule. Mira told me they didn't want to hurt me. That Leroy told her, Polla pushed him into our engagement. Aunt is far too proud to sell any of us!" – She jerked her head up.

"You probably have no idea. For you, Polla is just a dark witch, but she holds tradition! She's a healer and a good one at that. She's just less scrupulous when it comes to the methods, but Polla cares about the villagers! For them, she's always been good! Our family is the longest standing coven in Alsace. We are responsible for the people. They are not mere Muggles, like I hear here people say here, they are our Muggles, and we would never hurt them! We would fight for them, as I did and will if I have to. What you call the Statue of Secrecy works slightly differently in smaller and longstanding communities. A community is a coven and the Muggles who belong to us."

"You know, magic is power indeed, your madmen got this right, but power is responsibility! You should write this on your Ministry's wall! Magic is responsibility, and however you despise or adore Polla Poultron, she would be the first one to teach this for you all! You think your Dark Lord knows a fart about real pure-blood pride?!"

Her voice choked with emotions, and she hung her head again to calm down. "And just to let you know, it is inclusive, at least the way I learned it. Any witch or wizard proving to respect tradition and honour is due to have this pride. Although,"-she admitted with a small pull of a shoulder– "this part comes from grandmere…not Polla."

"This does not answer why you want them to fall," – Severus noted, although her words told him clear enough she was not the kind of a dark witch Lucius hoped for. More, all she said seemed to support his first instinct to trust her alliance, at least to a point. He shuddered to think what the witches of her family would think about his origins though, or that she evidently declassed "so low" as to even talk to him. Not for the first time to know he should feel like a worm. Did she share their sentiment? He absently pulled a grimace of distaste.

"You think not? When Leroy and his like were around, our people changed, and I didn't like that. After I talked to Mira, I was ready to let her get her dark wizard if that was what she desired. It was obvious she trusted him more than I ever would.

I had my doubts about the whole affair already. However, and you will not hold this against me; first, I wanted to ask him why he thought he should play us. When I found him, the village closest to Polla's manor was in uproar. Muggles cried on the street, they even tried to attack me! I found Leroy in a cottage with a Muggle woman and her young daughter. There were traces of errant curses all around on the walls. The husband, Francois Pointer, was dead in the living room.

I knew him; he was a gardener, never hurt a soul. I saw you in Iris' memories, you know what he was up to, so I don't need to go into details. It is enough that I dragged him out of that house and probably shrieked like a banshee. He tried to apologize, but more Muggles came. His poor Obliviates faded on them as soon as they found themselves in a similar situation they've obviously been in before. What a shame for my Aunt! I Petrified Leroy to hear the Muggles out. Word must have got to the manor and Polla arrived in a fury, liberated Leroy and demanded he clean up after himself before the Ministry got wind of it, and we all, Muggles and witches, got in even greater trouble.

Mira, I guess, could not believe what she heard from the villagers. I cannot find another reason for her to sneak into that house than she wanted to see with her own eyes to whom she vested her trust. I was busy checking Leroy Obliviating Muggles, but there was not much to do about poor Francois Pointer. Before we could discuss it, he turned to the house and blasted it to dust. Mira died in the detonation."

Severus watched as the witch angrily swiped a teardrop from her eye. What she described was only too familiar.

"Mira loved dark romances. She died of a broken heart by the hand of her lover." – She sniffed, although her voice was dripping with sarcasm instead of tears. – "She would have loved that. And yes," – she looked straight in Severus' eyes – "I cursed the worm into next week with a warning to kill him if he ever came into my sight again. Sometimes I hope he will."

Maybe because her shields were down, maybe for some other reason, but Severus felt her ire echoing inside him.

"Now I'm sorry that," – he began with consideration, but Sage violently cut in.

"I don't need your pity!"- She cried.

"I was to say," – Severus began again hoarsely, "that now I'm sorry I told him how to get rid of those pustules."

The witch's eyebrows ran together. "What did you suggest?"

"Suspendisse mundaret." – he admitted. "In lotion."

She thought for a second. "Shit, that might work! …maybe if he putrified…"

"…the bubotuber, yes, I advised a double load."

Sage stared at him for nearly a minute before she spoke. "You know… I could easily hate you only for that."

Severus opened his mouth to answer, but honestly, he was at a loss about what to say when Pince called his name. "Yes?"

"The Headmaster would like to talk to you, Severus," – Pince said just above a whisper. "Do you need anything, Professor Moody?"

Severus glanced at the witch, but she seemed uninclined to carry on with their conversation.

"Me? Oh, no, no, thank you, I'm almost done anyway."

She turned away so he could not even say goodbye, just followed Irma Pince out of the library. When he turned back from the door, the "Evilest of Darkness, an Advanced Guide through the Night" lay forgotten on her abandoned desk.

And Potter cheated the gallows again.