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It's still Rowling's world, as you all know it.
Chapter 18. To know a spell
Severus watched, frozen in place, with a rare sense of helplessness as the witch he had just lamented waltzed through his wards. It must have been that terrible elf who surely eased the wards to let her in. He should mend this as soon as he can.
However, the witch was here, and it was impossible to avoid finding out if he was right about all those details and shapes. His gaze slipped down her neck, the fold of her robe hiding too well the shape of her breasts, her waist, a visible enough crease about the hipbones – if only she would turn around! Blast it, she did! Severus swallowed as if he could gulp down all the guilt and arousal. Yes, he was spot on about all the details. Even her hair, although tied up, seemed long enough to… Dammit, man, stop this already!
Severus turned away from the armchair she seemed ready to take and emptied his mind completely with the practiced ease of an Occlumens. If he chided himself for being pathetically filthy and a prized idiot, that was a different issue altogether and his guilt felt well-deserved. It took some time to realize she was talking, and Severus failed to register what she might have said. He risked turning and facing her with a polite questioning gaze and saw her awfully hesitant.
She didn't sit down, as he imagined, only watched him warily.
"Are you still angry? I somehow hoped you might have gotten through it, but I understand if Azkaban-"
Severus shook his head absently. There was a wide range of emotions he attempted to escape, but anger was not one of those.
"Would you-" –He never got to learn what she might have asked for, because as soon as the witch stepped closer, he motioned her to sit and sat down himself, just to keep her in her place and an appropriate distance.
"Albus was quite unhappy with me." – The witch seemed to continoue whatever she has been talking about a minute prior. "I thought you wanted to know that. Also, your Pink Peril didn't care about your absence much at the meals. Which leads us…"
Why was she so uncharacteristically hesitant? It made him feel protective and began to affect him again in ways he did his best to avoid.
"You really should attempt to eat. If you still feel under the weather, you should let me call the mediwitch. It is bad enough I gave you two double brews of the Strengthening Solution; I wouldn't suggest you take a third. I know you also know about the side-effects, so it's your choice, but if it didn't help yet-"
The witch talked on undisturbed while Severus' mind stuck on the word. Yes, all brews had side-effects. Besides accelerating recovery, this one increased stamina and expanded the blood-vessels. In extreme overdose, it first caused microvascular bleeding, then, if not counteracted, might blow up any weaker artery. However, he didn't have that much. Only probably enough for some non-essential parts to fill out with blood. He fixed his gaze on his coffee table, contemplating if the witch suspected that two of her double brews might have done enough to achieve that. Hopefully not. This didn't acquit him of stupidity, though, his more presentable self had to add.
When the witch finally fell silent and pointed her wand on the table, the appearance of the tray of sandwiches, and surprisingly fruits, presented an easy solution. Severus first only took a bite to distract himself, and maybe her, from his previous thoughts, but actually, he found his appetite returned. While he ate, Beauxbaton still seemed strangely out of sorts.
"I didn't want you to see it," – she finally decided to speak her mind. "I know it angers you, but I need you to believe me. If I knew Albus would send you to Azkaban, I would have sought another way. I cannot understand him and certainly never asked for that, I just-"
"Just?" – Severus inclined his head towards her between two bites, and he knew his face displayed none of his thoughts. Most of them only conveyed surprise and disbelief, no use of either, but her unusual discomfort was intriguing.
"I just did what I had to. This was not-"
Severus couldn't fathom why this bothered the witch so much, but in one aspect, she was right indeed. The whole story annoyed him. Here's the much-needed distraction!
"Bullshit" – He claimed without as much as to look at her.
"What did you just say?"
He swallowed the bite and turned to her. "I believe you heard me clear enough. There's no way you had any other choice, even if you want to protect the people you left behind. By the way, there's not much hope you'll ever see any of them again, but who am I to deny you such a wonderful dream? Your father will want to kill somebody when he learns what transpired. Those will be jolly good days for all of us, and thank Merlin not a bit degrading for you either when he breaks down the oak door to drag out and away our new star-teacher, the favourite of the Headmaster and all.
So why would I buy into that such materialization of perfection itself was concerned about my feelings? Concerned! Instead of maybe asking for help and letting me do what I do best, and clean up after your cousin so neatly? However, for that, I guess you should have exercised that famous logic you used to so brazenly dared to call me to account."
"Oh, words fail to express how neatly you proceeded, but let me answer you: Because it's none of your business."
She leaned forward in her seat and propped both arms on her knees to look into his eyes from as close as she could. Instead of looking intimidated, she rather seemed encouraged, even keyed up, in a way he hadn't yet seen her.
"I do not know if you are this smug or this hurt and can only hope you are sarcastic and not outlandishly cruel, but I know that you agreed with Albus to protect his golden boy and serve him with unpleasant news. The mountain of dung my family piled up should not be your problem, and I cannot dig myself out from under it until you, Albus, and the golden boy stop your friends yearning for what is mine. You know not a doxieprick about France, neither in politics nor economy.
D'you think you know the boys are coming over to play nicely with your pals? You have not a freaking idea, and let me tell you that your smooth-haired princess with his attitude and cane is not enough for the Roux for breakfast. Are they the ones you would try to save me from? I'm full of excitement to hear how'd you'd do it! Pity your students like me better, but that's no reason for you to mock me with my father, who, as a matter of fact, never gave a fart about me for the better half of my life. Was this logical enough, or shall I draw you a chart?"
Severus looked back at her seemingly unfazed. Actually, her standing her ground was a welcome surprise, almost entertaining. He was familiar with his own faults in the situation enough to accept her sarcastically delivered critique, and he didn't feel the need to contradict her. That would have been unjust, and this time he had reason to try to play fair.
"What about that locket?"
"Did you fail to find that out?" – She asked back with a same saucy smile.
"Whether the Dark Lord made more than one Horcrux or not, the Headmaster's plans are not safer in your mind than in mine."
"You don't say you envy the honour to hear out his dilemma?"
"Not at all, I only worry, for he now has one more."
"Gods, he deserves all the headache more than you could ever! Although if you're so concerned, why don't we discuss what you saw in the Gaunt House? I heard you've been there."
"What does it have to do with anything?"
"Oh, with an imbalanced education such as you receive here, I shouldn't be surprised you don't know your own history! That family is said to be the last of your dear Slytherins. Would you presume they had any hidden treasures the Dark Lord might like?"
Her phrasing called up a dim memory, and Severus leaned back bewildered.
"What?" Sage seemed truly concerned for the first time since he challanged her.
"I should talk to the Headmaster."
"Oh…"
"Do you object?" – Severus asked mockingly, but actually, the witch seemed unreasonably anxious. "Let me guess, Beauxbaton, you forgot to share that your tongue ran away with you."
"Well, maybe…"
"And you dare to request any trust in your loyalty after filling me in contrary to his expressed sentiments on the matter! Herpo the Foul, indeed! I wonder what the old man would do to his friend's daughter when I tell him and have no doubts about I will. Your kind always got away with the most flamboyant crimes. You shouldn't worry with a father so close to the stove."
"Who are you talking about? Who is my kind?" - She asked instead of getting a fright.
Severus thought about stories of his youth. "Incidents" on the corridors and by the lake, and he felt as much hatred still as it happened a day ago. The one who had attempted to kill him now still got away with all the foulmouthed gibberish he could blither. Was she really like them? Obviously, she would claim she wasn't.
"The rich, eccentric pure-blood kids with all their self-righteous arbitrariness. Those who always got away."
Oddly, Sage burst out with laughter.
"Yes, I reckon that's my kind indeed, except for the getting away part, I'm obviously less well-versed in that! Funny to hear the Head of Slytherin to condemn that!"
"You don't begin to know a thing about Slytherin, Beauxbaton."
"I believe you," she inclined her head in a mocking bow, "although I still know his descendants' genealogy, and you failed to answer my question. What did you do in that house anyway?"
Severus' face contorted into a grimace of reluctance and regret.
"The Dark Lord wished to celebrate his success converting you, and also-" He hesitated only a moment, but it would serve her right to know the full extent of the consequences of her acts. "He also wished to reward me after your mind proved to be less useful for him than he deems mine."
Sage stared at him for long moments before she gestured towards the bedroom door.
"If this is the way he rewards you, I am afraid to imagine the way he punishes."
"Still, you voluntarily walked into his service." – He was quick to point out. "Before your next brilliant idea arises, I suggest you ask me and don't try to bypass me again. Dumbledore may be the mastermind you try to follow, but he has foggy ideas about the true extent of what may become of one in his circles."
"Do you honestly believe he doesn't know that?" Her tone was even more cynical than her question. Severus could only raise an eyebrow. "Seriously, I just came from a man who promised to support my decisions, who promised protection for you and for my aunt. He failed in two out of the three, and the third he didn't even have to act upon! How can you, who has worked with him for ever, fail to see his attention lays elsewhere?"
"Careful, Beauxbaton, you are questioning the only wizard who stood up against the Dark Lord. Whatever you're used to in France, here you have to choose your side."
"The only one? Please, I'm not here for four months and know about twenty, one of them is you. I can't believe a man like you can truly be so dogmatic! Are you afraid of him? Why don't you speak your mind?"
Severus' features froze into dismissal, and he silently prepared to send the witch away.
"I did speak my mind. If you-"
"I honestly don't believe that!" She burst out. "Can you imagine what you would feel if it was the other way around? If you ever asked him to protect someone by any reason, if you satisfied his every impossible, foolish whim, did your best despite all dangers, only to learn he failed in what he promised?"
It felt like a Stupefy, only worse, for blessed unconscious darkness didn't follow, and he could only swallow against his resurging pain. Severus didn't need to imagine that, if there was something he wished, it was to forget what it felt to hope, struggle, and lose the one Dumbledore could not save. Against his promise. Breathing became hard and ineffective, and he stood up and turned away to hide his face.
"Oops" – he heard from behind his back, and strangely the pain and breathlessness subsided as he rolled his eyes.
"Not your oops again!"
"Sorry, I guess it was a lucky hit. Would you like to share?" Her tone might have been tender, the answer was still obvious.
"No."
"So you know then. How can you trust him after he failed you?" – She returned to her earlier directness without any more fuss. It was relieving; Severus could still not make himself turn and face the witch.
It was impossible. She couldn't know what she questioned. He put up his life for what seemed the only reason to live, while her trust only wavered while Dumbledore sent him to a route to hell. Even that without avail. That was incomparable to losing … losing everything… she couldn't know. Why would she care about him anyway? She asked Dumbledore for the sake of her family – and him. Why? Was it a test? If he engaged her in conversation long enough, she might spill that also. Severus tried to put his doubts aside and answer her question.
"I hardly had a choice."
"Well, I do have. I thought I would try and trust you instead. You seem to care."
He turned with one move and stared at the witch, but there was no sign of joking or mocking.
"Have you lost your mind?"
"I don't think so, but we never know, do we?" Her smile was outrageously calm. "I probably know more about Albus than you or most people around here. Grandmere wasn't a bad source when it came to ascertaining his true morals. She was there, you know. When Grindelwald blasted half of Paris. They waited for Albus, but he was reluctant to help. His belief in the "greater good" sent many to doom, even if he stood up at the end and fought the good fight. He has enough to regret from his youthful errands, and he dares to poke at my guilt at every turn. I don't say he is unjust, but he is a kind of a hypocrite and he obviously failed his promise to keep you away."
"That was a silly thing to ask anyway." – He couldn't help but finally tell her.
"Maybe, but I'm not up to debate that. Will you tell me what you saw in that house, or shall we walk up to Albus to get my scolding first?"
Severus stopped himself before he stared at her again. Bad idea, she always made him talk. He needed time; this was not the pace at which his mind usually worked. Maybe he spent too much time alone, debating alone, deciding alone, hell, if he could only trust her!
But she called Dumbledore a hypocrite; she questioned his leadership and all after bowing to the Dark Lord. Yes, that was partly his fault, yes, she explained it mostly away, but she still questioned Dumbledore! It was a rule that Severus kept strictly; he growled, debated, argued but never questioned Dumbledore's decisions. She obviously did, and did it openly, so should he trust her?
He wished he could, but with all the utter foolishness about her waist and skin, he didn't trust himself to decide. Although prior to all that madness, he already knew he wanted her friendship. He even knocked on her door. Did he have a sane mind then?
Should he know about whatever Dumbledore didn't want him to know? On the other hand, should he disparage Beauxbaton in front of the Headmaster? What if he didn't see anything? Maybe it was only an illusion, or something entirely different in nature. He shouldn't jump to conclusions! He already knew way more than the old wizard intended. Should he spike things with a misleading memory? No.
Beauxbaton might do things differently, but she was good enough to him when he needed her to now shut up and wait. Severus could accept this as a semi-final verdict, and finally, he was ready to look at her. She just sat there, watching his face, her features incredibly calm. What could she think of while waiting so patiently? What made her trust him? She said she did or tried. Disturbing. Disturbing witch.
"It is possible I never saw a thing." He admitted slowly. "The Dark Lord was not satisfied with my training and-"
"Your training?"
"We shall not discuss that. He shoved me onto a table – with reasons he had… and later cursed me with the Crutiatus, so I have limited recollection about my surroundings. When he finished and left, I fell on the floor, and I believe I saw a box between the breaches. It shone like gold, and I couldn't care less... That was all."
"Don't underplay it."
"I don't. And I doubt I would ever have the opportunity to investigate it."
"Of course you should not." She stood up and straightened her robe. "Where was it precisely?"
"Oh, no, you're not getting to go there!"
"I doubt you should. It's not wise you to show-"
"Not wise? It's suicidal! Just like admitting to tell you about it at all. If he catches you-"
"I'll be careful."
"Witch, you stop right there before I curse you! This is not about gathering some herbs!" Severus had enough of her disturbing ways, crossed the room with few long strides and stepped before the door. "I will not permit this! I will not let you to-"
"You what?"
A shadow of an old conversation sank on him and gave more guilt than what the situation called for. "I didn't mean that…. sorry,… I just…" Severus felt as his adult and coherent self was struggling under the confusion and guilt of his long-abandoned boyhood and strengthened himself against it. "Don't mind the phrasing, Beauxbaton. It is inconsequential. You will not go."
"Severus, we really should make sure what you might have seen. At this point, anything may be of import. And it's relatively safe, isn't it? He is not supposed to go back into a house so rickety without reason…"
A short and vicious fight against his reluctance and his sense of duty won out with the all deciding blow of never letting one more witch die because of him again.
"I'll go back and see. If I find anything worth attention, I'll inform you through the house elf."
Severus turned about to find his travelling cloack and already thought about the best place to Apparate, and his chances if he disillusioned himself, when she stopped him with disbelief displayed all around her face.
"You're in no shape to undertake such a thing! I am not Albus, and you should erase this sense of blind-"
"Beauxbaton, not a word about Dumbledore, it was enough! You talked me into this madness; now you step aside and wait for my elf. Be glad I haven't gone straight to the Headmaster's office."
She looked troubled. It was incomprehensible but actually welcomed for that finally gave the impression she finally understood some implications of her words and actions. But he was – again – into a surprise. The witch didn't mind the Headmaster's involvement. She seemed to be bothered by his.
"Let the elf go!" – She cried out with sudden enthusiasm.
"The house elf?"
"Yes, elf-magic is different. Most wards don't even expect them. I know mine do not. Does yours?" On his visible cringe when asked about his wards, she only pulled a shoulder. "Could he do it?"
"Theoretically, it is possible…"
"Call him!" He raised an eyebrow at her practiced tone of command. "What?"
"Are you asking me, Beauxbaton?"
"Why, of course, you said he was capable."
She was so self-assured it seemed pointless to quarrel, so he summoned the houself with a deep sigh and explained to him his duty. The creature seemed so overly enthusiastic, he repeatedly warned him against taking this task lightly, even ordered him to return empty-handed if there was any possibility of something going wrong.
"Chubby understands, Professor-Master, Chubby be careful, Chubby takes the box if there's box to find. No one will see."
Upon his nod, the house elf popped away, and he found himself awkwardly standing by his still closed door, with a hand on his travelling robe, and a pretty much worked up witch on his side. Her closeness suddenly annoyed him, and Severus abruptly walked back to his armchair and promptly regretted sending the elf away. If nothing else, he could have been better employed by serving a tea. There was no possibility for this foolishness to worth the effort. He thought long and hard to recall the name of that strange dressed-up elf from a month before.
"Dobby!"
When the creature obediently appeared, he ordered tea for two and dismissed the elf. Within a few minutes, Beauxbaton must have gotten through her shock, or whatever she might have entertained herself with, and joined him by his coffee-table. He waited for her to speak and felt a hint of satisfaction when she finally proved herself predictable.
"What are you doing?"
"Waiting, Beauxbaton, I believe even you must be familiar with the concept." To see her finally subdued only increased his smugness. "Now is the perfect time you share whatever you hold back about that locket. You dragged me deep enough into this to finish now what you began."
"I don't know much," – the witch started, and Severus already rolled his eyes. "You can rest assured I will tell you, but I am going to do that in my way, and you would have to listen if I happen to fulminate about your sanctimonious headmaster, who should have talked this through with you instead of me if my opinion matters."
Upon Severus' amused twist of his lips and a raised eyebrow, she spoke in a quieter tone with a shake of her head.
"All right, even if it matters not." She let him have his chuckle, and it seemed to lighten her mood too. "Albus told me about a chamber somewhere under the school and a basilisk, thankfully dead enough. I guess you know the story."
Severus nodded. Another example for Potter's foolhardy luck, stubbornness, and misbehavior, whichever comes sooner to mind.
"So you must know about that diary too."
"Of course. A Gryffindor girl served it with her emotions, youthful desires, and dreams until it attempted to give life to memory. It made the girl open the chamber and let the basilisk roam about the school. It was ugly," – he added severely. – "This must have something to do with our subject, I believe?"
"Can't you detect it? It's not overly hidden. What kind of artifact do you know about that may store a memory for decades, needs the energy of an innocent and may-"
"-come alive!" – Severus cut in, amazed by his own lack of recognition, he should have known, but who would think of such infernal, inhuman… "It never occurred to me, but it makes so much sense, Dumbledore always referred to it as a-" –He fell silent, seeing the witch's features morphing into challenging cockiness. "Don't say it!"
"As you wish. However, he believes it actually was a Horcrux, and so he introduced me to his quest to find the trace of at least one additional item of the kind. For He has been already revived."
Severus thoughtfully nodded. "I thought about that. As for his return cannot be linked to the diary, he must have used something else. However, we cannot search for that, so you or Dumbledore must suspect an additional part and a locket… Beauxbaton, do you know what you're implying?"
"Well, I find it abhorrent as it is, but Albus believes it might be even more than four parts. He told me about meeting a young boy, Tom Riddle, in the late 1930s. The boy was an orphan already accepted to Hogwarts. He monitored his life since the day they first met, and even after his school years when he entered the employment of erm… Burkin? Butkin?"
"The Dark Lord used to work at Borgin and Burke's?"
"Oh, yes, that was it! He said it was famous… Anyway, Albus tracked him, and there were some strange deaths in their clientele. He has a list of artifacts missing by the time He left the country, allegedly to travel - I think in Albania."
"That's not just hearsay, I assure you." – Severus told her, gloomily pulling his long fingers along his lips. "Their patronage is wide; I can imagine what such a list might be like. How could he narrow his list of artifacts?"
"Well, that's the point. He could not. He acquired a memory showing a young woman selling a locket with something like Salazar Slytherin's snake to this Burke's, and the same locket is also on the list he gathered from the patronage, but that's not much at this point. He hopes to track down the house-elf of some deceased witch, but if you ask me, he has no more than random memories he collected from various people and a theory of utter conjecture."
"None of these suggest my vision in that decaying house may be of help."
"Well, none but the fact it was of the Gaunts'. The Dark Lord's mother was a Gaunt-girl, and Albus believes He might be attached to his ancestors. Especially if they-"
"-connect him to Salazar Slytherin!" – Severus finished for her. "Merlin, this even makes sense, the Chamber of Secrets is allegedly also Slytherin's heritage. You say the locket bears his insignia, and the Dark Lord took me to his descendants' home. Damnable bastard!" – He absently cursed.
"Are you damming your dear Headmaster or your own house's founder? Who thought I would hear such a thing of the Head of Slytherin!" – Sage chuckled shamelessly.
"Hold your horses, Beauxbaton; I meant the Dark Lord. I only wonder-" – He never had a chance to finish the thought.
Chubby appeared in front of him with a loud pop and put a golden box on the coffee-table with so much haste as if it burned his hands.
"Master warned danger, Master didn't say evil!" – The poor thing hid his hands behind his back and curled even his ears away from the box, trembling from head to toe with anxiety. "House was abandoned, Chubby left all as were, no one would know. But box is evil, Master. Chubby should hide it. Master not touch!"
Severus' eyes narrowed on the elf, but he looked unhurt, only frightened. He also spared a glance at Sage. The witch stared at the elf too, with what he could describe as a wide-eyed surprise, even her lips parted. It was wiser to focus on the box instead.
After closer inspection, it proved to be made of wood, japanned, and carved with leaflets and coiling branches. Around the edges and on the lid, filigreed golden strings twined together to unite on the top in the shape of a sleeping snake. As Severus leaned close enough to his breath to touch the snake's head, its eyes popped open gleaming red. He stared into those eyes unstirred by the witch's frightened yelp, and his lips slid into an amused grin.
"Slytherin suae servat[i]." – He whispered to the snake. It obediently withdrew, and the lid opened. "No need to blanch at a toy, Beauxbaton."
The witch's raising eyebrows, and complete attention was rewarding enough. The ring inside the box presented more of a challenge. Especially with the hysterical screams from the house elf when Snape's hands reached closer to the chest.
Severus dismissed the elf with genuine annoyance and lifted the box to take a closer look at the ring. It was an old-looking golden ring, inset with a black stone that held unknown engraving. Severus grudgingly admitted he had no idea where it could belong.
"This is not a Slytherin insignia." – He showed to the witch.
"No." – she confirmed at first look. "May I?"
Severus carefully handed her the box.
"It's early Middle Ages. Maybe tenth century, or a little later. D'you see the goldsmith's work here on the sides? But the stone seems even older, or somehow different. Not obsidian, not onyx… and why does it have the Peverells' sign?"
"Peverell?"
"Yes, see for yourself!"
Severus accepted the chest back because this seemed less embarrassing than admitting his complete loss about the name she mentioned. It sounded familiar, but he couldn't place it. Looking at the engraving from a different angle and trying to find anything familiar about it, a strange memory arose. Karkaroff kept talking some rubbish… he even showed a picture. It was taken in Durmstrang before a wall with a sign astoundingly similar. Pity he'd never cared…
"Looks like something Grindelwald would have used." He risked to mention but never anticipated Sage's enthusiasm.
"Yes, he used it, but it's not his sign! Oh, I couldn't believe none of you ever read history! Why did you make this up?" – She grinned at him like she found him out on some joke. "Anyway, prankster, it is older than Grindelwald. My grandmother was in correspondence with some strange magicians who had outrageous theories about the Peverells," – she chuckled. – "I guess that's a tale for another day. They all would confirm you, this is their family insignia. They were, in fact, related to Slytherin, but only spindle-side. At least as far as I remember… Would you mind if I ran up to the library now?"
He watched her with open amusement.
"What?" – The witch stared back at him while Severus put the box down.
"Nothing, only…" – Severus couldn't remember last time he said such a thing without malice – "You're such a nerd, Beauxbaton! I bet you were an insufferable teacher-pet and lived in a library even on weekends!" He couldn't help but snicker, the more when she began to pout.
"Oh, really? Well, I guess you need to be one to know one, isn't it the way they say it?"
"You may look it up in the library" – he encouraged her, already searching through a lower bookshelf, but to no avail.
"And you? What are you doing?" – Her question reached him when he opened a low chest of drawers, where he finally found what he was looking for. A piece of canvas with pockets, rolled up neatly to keep his crystals safe and clean.
Severus laid out the resilient storage on the top of the table and let the witch peek above his shoulder.
"Your best guess?"
"It's that you wanted to get rid of me to have all the fun alone!"
"Precisely" – he agreed with the same amused grin he wore for the snake before. "I failed miserably, so now you may prepare these while I find a golden chain."
He held out a small etui filled with a premade mix of powdered herbs and didn't mention that the other was the trickiest part of his plan. However, the witch presented an easy solution, already reached in her robe's pocket and unlinked something from its chain.
"Well, this is not of bullion, but-"
Severus grabbed on the offered chain, and carefully, never touching the pendant, he fitted the crystal.
Meanwhile, the witch prepared the herbs around the ring, setting four equal piles on the four corners of the table, and separated one more portion to begin the ceremony.
"Is that selenite?" –She gestured on the crystal he chose.
Severus nodded.
"Have you let it drink up the moonlight?"
"Three consecutive nights, the full moon the middle. Shall we?"
"Sure, which chant do you prefer?"
"Per vim…"
"You're not playing around!"
"What good would that do?"
She chuckled. "Now?"
"Now."
On Severus' nod, Sage began to chant and threw the fifth portion of the powdered herbs above the ring and the table. With a flick of her wand, she ignited the powder in the air around them. The small sparks and specks levitated illuminated around them.
"Per vim potentiam tuam nego – Per vim potentiam tuam perdo – Per vim potentiam tuam aboleo[ii]."
Up to the second round of chants, she ignited the four piles of herbs at the corners of the small table while Severus carefully lowered the crystal towards the ring. He held the golden chain in a way it didn't move from above its target, and he quietly chanted with her.
On the third round of chants, the crystal reached the golden ring and sat inside its circle. Severus felt the strange and unexpected pull through the chain that became hot in his hands. He wished he could warn the witch, but the pull was so forceful he needed all his focus to deny it.
Eventually, by the time Sage began the fourth round of chanting, he decided to interrupt the process and tried to pull the crystal up and out of the ring. It refused to move, and the chain became unnaturally hot. Sage stopped chanting and hit his hands from above the ring. The chain finally slipped between his fingers and piled on the crystal, still caught in the circle.
Then all lights went out in the room, and Severus only stepped back and away by sheer instinct, grabbing the witch with himself. That moment the crystal illuminated, and, with a shriek, it tore vertically from bottom to top before it evaporated with the chain and all traces of herbs around.
With an impatient move of his hand, Severus re-ignited the torches and candles in the room. A glance at Beauxbaton - she was pale as a sheet but held her wand without trembling, ready to fight. He stepped to the coffee table. The box and the ring looked like they hadn't even tried to poke them. Severus carefully closed the lid.
"And now, Beauxbaton, we indeed go up to the Headmaster."
Thankfully she didn't even try to argue.
Severus peeked out on the corridor and disillusioned the witch. Such measures might be unnecessary to protect their ways, but it was always better to be safe than sorry in a school like Hogwarts. They chose the short flight of stairs connecting the dungeons to the second floor, which ended in a tapestry. Both carefully stepped through the step they knew to misbehave. Severus tried to glance at her, to see if the witch remembered too, forgetting about his own charm for a moment. Sage gave the password to the Gargoyle, and they both soon entered Dumbledore's office.
The Headmaster showed no particular signs of surprise seeing them, but he turned his questioning gaze on the small box when Snape put it on his desk. Sage assessed the situation for him, and Dumbledore opened the lid eagerly even while she talked.
When the Headmaster used the Slytherin slogan without a qualm, Sage glared at Severus with surprise, but it was hardly news to him. Unlike Dumbledore's next move, when he grabbed the ring out of its container and raised it level to his amazed sight.
Sage warned about the curse and retold the story of their failure to break it, but Severus felt the old wizard didn't hear her. There was something unfamiliar in those blue eyes. Burning greed, or desire, with more than a hint of sadness that soon turned into a suspicious glitter like he was close to tears.
While the witch ranted on and on, Severus couldn't tear his eyes off the Headmaster's features, and when he saw the old man sliding the ring onto his finger, he lashed out with a sudden cry of fright, knocking the ring from the old hands, and recoiled, realizing his own boldness, he nearly apologized for being disrespectful.
The ring flew an elegant curve through the air, ratted on the phoenix's sitting rod and with a cling, it rolled under the escritoire. The bird flew up with a shriek, but Dumbledore already had gone on his hands and knees to retrieve the treasure, calling out for something that sounded like a name.
Severus stood frozen and bewildered, watching the witch crumpling by the Headmaster of Hogwarts, calling his name repeatedly and trying to get the old man back to the land of sanity. He couldn't cope with the tears on the face of the one he'd given himself to follow, nor the panted incoherent words-
"…so precious… work of a lifetime… Ariana… I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, my dearest, I was such a fool…"
When Sage turned to the phoenix and ordered it to get Aberforth, he was grateful for someone doing something. Anything, even if his astonishment failed to give him any possible reasons. But the bird flew up high towards the ceiling and disappeared with a sudden flare of flames. The room became awkwardly quiet, and Severus tried to conquer his shock.
Dumbledore stayed seated on the floor of his office, Sage tended him the best she could, and the phoenix returned in minutes with a remarkably grumpy old wizard hanging on its tail. He wore pyjamas, and his beard was untidy, but he couldn't be more frightful adorned in all arms.
"What in the name of all feral and distasteful did you think to summon me in such an obnoxious manner!?" – The arriving wizard began his ranting even before letting go of the bird's tail. The phoenix flew above their heads and circled, already singing its wonderful song of reassurance and unity. "Oh, shut up!" – Aberforth waved his hand toward it, and the bird disappeared. "What's gotten into you?" – The old wizard stepped closer to the Headmaster, but Sage replied.
"We found a ring, heavily cursed, it bore a black stone with the Peverell insignia. We thought Albus might find a way to lift the curse, but he tried to pull it on. I have no way to understand why! Severus stopped him, and he is in this state ever since. He called for Ariana, I thought you might-"
The old wizard's grumpiness shaped into open hostility under the blink of an eye.
"Ariana?" He took one more step closer to the Headmaster on the floor. "I say, Albus, they should have let you suck up that damned curse! Now, where is that bloody ring?"
Dumbledore motioned toward the escritoire, and Aberforth pulled his wand from the rubber of his pyjama drawers.
"Accio ring" – he mumbled with a grimace and caught the cursed object to examine it on his palm. "Have you at least told them how utterly fucked up you are?" – He waited for his brother to shake his head before he turned to the room.
"This omniscient fool has always had great thoughts on his mind. Greater than to look out for his only sister, or as a matter of fact, for mine. You had one job, you arse, one job, to take good care of her, for one bloody year before I could finish here at this damned school! But no! You couldn't do that, for you had circles to run about your golden-haired bestie and bask in his smiles till he finished with your ward! Are you still bathing in the glory of your greatness? The man who eventually defeated his lovely Grindelwald! Go on, conceal your foolish pride that made killed our sister, and jump on a cursed ring to forget that you unleashed two of the most vicious wars!"
Severus stared wide-eyed on the Hog's Head's barkeeper, but the Headmaster made no attempt to contradict his rebuke.
"See that stone, Aberforth!" – He stretched a shaking hand toward the ring instead. "I can finally get her back! This is one of the Hallows I've been searching for my whole life!"
"Hallow my arse!" – Aberforth cried with irritation. "You are nearing a hundred and twenty and still craving a fairy tale to be true!"
"It is!" Conviction gave strength to the old wizard, and he finally stood. "Look and see it!" – He pointed on the engraving that Sage identified as the Peverell insignia – "There were three brothers, the Peverells. They journeyed by midnight and saw a river…
Severus was familiar with the story. Everybody was. A tale of Beedle the Bard, a child's book author, lived and wrote so long ago his stories sank into common sayings. Three brothers made a pact with Death. One received an invincible wand, one a stone to call back the dead, and the third modestly asked for a cloak. It was an old tale of virtue and humility, but he would never have taken the Headmaster as one of those who took it by face value. When Dumbledore finished reciting the tale, Severus was proved wrong.
"I can finally call her back." – Albus told Aberforth with a strange glint in his eyes.
"To have her sad and cold, hidden behind a veil? I congratulate you, brother, on your life's true achievement! After a hundred short years flew away, you might finally understand the moral of a children's tale: YOU DON'T CHEAT DEATH!"
For the first time, Severus understood the true gravity of being stuck between his age's two most powerful wizards. They basically wanted the same: Voldemort wanted to cheat death for his own reasons, while Dumbledore wanted the same to correct his error, for what he probably saw as a benefit for others. Now he understood what the Headmaster implied, telling him he was lucky to have no issues with his own mortality. However, if Dumbledore was right, he could call back someone else…
Severus looked at the stone on Aberforth's palm, and a strange surge of excitement began to overwhelm him. If the tale was true, Lily might return… His breath caught of the realization, but the elation soon merged with Aberforth's words. He had no wish to stare at her broken and cold form. The hatred and judgement he saw in her son's eyes showed him what he would look at. And what would he say? What could he possibly tell her? That his betrayal was unintentional? That he was sorry and broken? Would that sate a need in her or only his own? He could see her, yes, perhaps, but only hidden by a veil. Then she would go again, and he would lose her for the hundredth time. NO!
While Severus took time to face the darkest depths of his soul – yet again – the quarrel in the room escalated. Aberforth heartlessly berated his brother, while Albus argued he should right an error that others could hardly understand. Sage seemed helpless between them, a rare and painful sight on her usually self-assured face. The brothers neglected her completely.
Severus stepped closer with the aid of his rising annoyance – probably the best weapon in his depository by now – and had a good long look at the ring.
"May I?" – He picked it up from Aberforth's palm, engaging the arguers' attention. "I have only two questions. Can anything prove this thing is a Horcrux? And would it damage the stone if we destroyed it if it is?"
All seemed taken aback but by different reasons. Aberforth was the first to get to his senses.
"A Horcrux?"
"Well, I assumed-"
"You assumed!" Aberforth repeated outraged. "And were you to use it anyway?!"
Albus Dumbledore looked ashamed first since he saw the ring.
"The stone is older and more powerful than anything we could find around. Nothing can damage the Resurrection Stone."
Sage looked glad to see the tides finally seemed to turn. "Albus, we already tried to lift the curse. How-"
It seemed that the Headmaster finally returned, and he raised a hand to cut her.
"We already know Harry destroyed a Horcrux with basilisk venom. As it happens, the sword," – he walked up to a portrait, and when it floated aside, took Gryffindor's sword from a case built in the wall. – "It bathed in the same venom." Dumbledore got up the sword and approached the ring, which Snape – for Aberforth's open and harsh amusement – hastily threw onto the Headmaster's desk. "Let's see then!"
Only faltering for a second, Albus Dumbledore smote on the ring and the office filled with an eerie scream. A liquid – similar to blood poured from the ring, and the holder let the stone loose.
After a moment of bewildered silence, they all heard Sage's raspy voice, "I am convinced, Albus. So how many more?"
At the moment, it was too much to expect an answer. The old wizard teetered and sank into his chair, the sword of Gryffindor lamely hanging from his hand.
"Go away, you kids," – Aberforth turned to the teachers, and neither Severus nor Sage felt inclined to argue. They heard the grumpy old man taking his leave of his brother. "Now get that bird of yours to deliver me back to my bedroom, for I won't parade through the castle and the grounds in this attire… And I'm taking your precious pebble before you lose your better mind again…"
Then the office door closed behind them.
Severus peeked at the witch's face and saw she was too weary to make her discuss all that transpired. He shouldn't complain; he already had more acceptable company than he thought he was worthy of. But this was still a small disappointment.
However, as soon as the spiral staircase started under their feet, the witch stumbled, taken by surprise, and he stretched an arm around her by reflex, efficiently cutting off the flow of his own thoughts. The soft curve of her waist under his palm replied to the unspoken wishes of his early afternoon, and all he could do was to curl his fingers before his palm slid in errant ways to explore.
He hardly heard the witch's mindless apology, but recognizing she talked, Severus said out the first thing that came to mind.
"I must believe in Beauxbatons Academy of Magic there are no staircases at all."
"Of course there are," – she answered dryly with a side glance, "They only know better how to behave."
With that, the witch swiped off his hand gently, too gently to wipe his secret smirk, but Severus dredged up his better set of manners and escorted her flawlessly to her door.
Only on the stairs behind the tapestry dared he look at his palm, and Severus gave himself a moment to finish with this insanity. As life just proved, there was enough of madness all around without him creating any additional problems.
[i][i] Slytherin suae servat - Slytherin preserves (keeps) his own
[ii] Per vim potentiam tuam nego – Per vim potentiam tuam perdo – Per vim potentiam tuam aboleo – By force your power I dispute – By force your power I destroy – By force your power I invalidate (deprive).