Hey,
I stop apologizing, I know I'm horrible! Please mark my words when I say this story is not, and would not be abandoned, I have the whole story outlined (and actually written, I just twisted it one more time during typing in and editing, and now have more knots to solve than I originally thought).
Thank you for the reviews! You cannot imagine how much those mean to me, and I'm grateful for every word!
Oh, and I didn't actually mean to bash either Harry or the Golden Trio, I only think that Severus would... ;)
Rowling's world!
By the Road of Freedom III.
The familiar portkey-ride took the three wizards near the half-roof on the camp's clearing. Both young boys seemed exceptionally disturbed, even guilty. Their shared glances and overall anxiety didn't escape Snape's notice; however, he was preoccupied with his own bad premonitions and just ran after them as quickly as he could.
The shrill, ominous female voice they heard from the tent didn't seem to belong to any of the witches they shared it with. Potter ran ahead but halted with a gasp; Weasley followed him, blocking the entrance.
"HERMIONE!"
Severus was first annoyed by this useless cry and the obstacle, but only until he pushed his way through between them and saw the young witch hovering in the air with arms and legs hunched back and her head hanging loose as she shrieked in Latin – at the moment the fourth chapter of an eighteenth-century German spellbook, the ingredients of a powerful curse to protect dangerous objects.
Severus' eyes searched for Sage, hoping for a different explanation than what he already suspected. Alas, the witch was busy trying to find the original text among the old tomes scattered around the bookshelf. At least she conjured pillows under Granger – a superfluous effort, but surely an act of hope and kindness. Even if the young witch showed no signs of any indication of landing.
Against all odds, Severus decided to go for the easiest solution and try to work his way up from there, so he cast a Finite, pointing his wand at Granger. Exactly nothing happened. He only annoyed the older witch.
"Do you seriously believe I haven't tried that?!" – she attempted to outshout the recitation, not stopping her search for a second. Severus saw with more than some relief that she'd already conjured a pair of gloves to dig among the cursed tomes. Now he did the same, getting down next to her.
Some of his books were already stood in piles sorted by hazardousness. There was no trace of his formerly established wards anywhere near them or the bookcase. He snatched up one of the piles with a wand move and began to send the books back to their places to make more room.
"What are you doing? Why don't you help her?!" – Potter cried still from the entry of the tent while Weasley reached out for Granger.
"Stop!" Severus suddenly roared, and the boy looked up frightened and surprised. "I won't deal with the two of you levitating up next to her! Sit!" – He commanded and showed the two boys to the table with a pointing finger. Potter was the slower to oblige.
"Do you mean it's contagious?" – Weasley asked with great alarm, pulling his friend by his shirt sleeve.
"I didn't know this could happen," – Severus heard Potter whispering to his crony, and the pent-up tension suddenly erupted from him in a whim.
"The amount of whatever you do not know, Potter, will once amaze you if you prove lucky enough to realize. Whatever made you and your pathetic second selves conspire and create a diversion so your so-called friend could arrange her possible demise? How could you even imagine that your transgression would go unnoticed and be spared the consequences?! The Boy-who-fucking-lived-so-we-all-may-die! You pathetic fool! Have you never–"
"Found it!" – Sage's urging cry jolted him – again – out of the sermon he'd been preparing for years.
Severus was back at the witch's side, studying the open tome with a warning look at the brats. The tome refused to be closed and slowly turned the pages with Granger's performance. Sage's Finite didn't even seem to reach the paper.
"She won't last long with this pace," – she reminded cautiously, refreshing the health scan she projected by the girl's body. "Already exhausted, and she's got eighteen more chapters to go…."
As his wards had nothing in them to cause a similar effect, Severus was sure the book itself had to react to Granger's meddling with a built-in protective curse.
"Let me see if I can find the primordial intent," – Severus took the tome from Sage's hand and only wasted a moment on her surprised look. "What?"
"You want to switch off only the first protective curse put on the tome to annul the rest? I've never seen anyone doing a Vinculum a Priorem. Where did you learn it?"
Severus put the tome on the table and spared a quick glance at the boys. Potter looked bewildered and anxious, but he eyed him almost as much as he watched Granger. However, Weasley seemed truly frightened, as if he had at least a hunch about what was going on. He didn't envy the redhead if that was the case. Curses on old tomes were severe, placed with the intent of fending off the invader, mostly irrespective of the miscreant's continued existence. Maybe Minerva's escapades had closed down the Restricted Section for good, but it was restricted for a reason.
"Pince is a legit curse breaker by her office. I had ample opportunity to pick up some of her practices," – he discreetly answered Sage.
"May I watch?" – her eagerness didn't surprise him, but compared to the situation, Severus almost found it hilarious.
"I want you to assist," – he told her and left for his storage to grab up some angelica root and fennel seed. He put those carefully by the tome with the smaller mortar and began to instruct, absentmindedly returning to his classroom voice. "You will make a fine powder. We'd better burn it on a charcoal board of oak wood, but that's inaccessible at the moment, and I will not resort to using any other wood."
"Sure," – the witch's confident nod was reassuring. He continued in a lighter tone.
"The scanning charm you will see is to manage the layers. The longer we dawdle over the recent ones, the further we push the original, wasting time, which, as you say, is of the essence. When you see me reaching the lowest layers of what would seem a subtle net of concurring curses, you will pour the mixed powder on the open tome and light it."
"On the tome?" – Sage stared at him disbelieving, which didn't sit well with Severus' impatience and anxiousness at all.
"Did I stutter, witch? Yes, on the bloody tome. If I didn't cock it up by that point, it wouldn't destroy it, but you'd be shielding me from the curse."
"I'll light it," – Sage quickly nodded.
"Thank you," – he acknowledged with just a hint of snark. "Then I will produce our sacrifices to satisfy the Prima Vinculum, and you may put your wand in use on the victim," – he pointed at Granger, pulling a face.
"What will you offer?"
"Well, my stocks are lacking virgin's blood–"
Sage snorted before she laughed up short. "Well, don't look at me!"
Severus rolled his eyes. "I meant to say, I would go for the second-best option and try to satisfy it with the blood of the caster. And…"- he hesitated only for a short second. It was enough for the witch to turn wary eyes on him. "On the off chance I faint, I really think you should tend to the girl first," – he finished in a soft voice with a shrug that felt lame, hoping the brats at the other end of the table wouldn't hear him.
"You'll be fine," – Sage assured him, and her tone was in tell-tale odds with the look in her eyes.
Granger began the fifth chapter, and Severus cast the scanning spell to get lost within the interlaced pattern of sequential curses. He tried to find a thread to follow through them, so he wouldn't need to break all additional curses one by one. This was the search for the Prima Vinculum, and he wasn't surprised even Sage hadn't seen it in action. One mistake, and his consciousness would drift away between the curses added to the tome's protection over the years. Well, as Pince had put it when she requested his assistance for the first time, what better reason to have to avoid mistakes? Severus couldn't argue that time and was only grateful now.
He knew the tome sensed his intrusion and added it to the first meddling of the young witch, which it must have "understood" as an attack. The first step of the process was a labyrinth game, and in no way entertaining for the outsider. He still could somehow sense Sage's unrelenting attention at the periphery of his awareness.
After some minutes, he also began to feel the dark magic's sucking force, the pull towards the greatest personal temptations. For him, it had always been intellectual vanity, the unhealthy longing for the abyss, and curiously this time, it proved to be a growing amount of desire, anger, and the frustration of dissatisfaction that haunted his recent existence.
He wished to do things that threatened his focus, either throwing himself into the offered abyss or leaving his work unfinished to see after his other needs… The thousand-faced monster attacked with always renewing force. His vision blurred for a second with possible curses he could use to force his own ends. They disturbed the picture in front of him.
When he focused more, images of objects of his various desires emerged in picturesque detail; fame, success, acknowledgement, and a witch's adoration and abandoned welcome. He knew where all those would lead him, and he respected her for her better mind. Severus worked himself through the temptation, never noticing his cheeks flaring pink by the effort and embarrassment or the narrow trails of sweat trickling down his temples.
The pull became stronger, now less alluring and more to devour. It showed strength and power. It grew bigger than him. A sinister force, attempting to frighten him away. His heartbeat quickened, and his breathing got erratic. He tried to pull through with the sheer power of his stubborn will.
The pit felt like the bottom of the ocean. Pitch-dark, with an overwhelming pressure seizing him from all directions. A sensation of drowning. Sage saw him pale beyond his normal, but he had no notion of his surroundings at his point. Again, panic rushed through him in the lack of air, animalistic fear of death – this time not inviting. An emptiness of failure, a step into nothing which didn't seem welcoming at all.
He'd always imagined the effects of a Dementor's kiss like that – and with the thought, he finally understood the curse's mechanism. It was his fear, his imagination; there was nothing new. He pulled through it, only to feel compelled to recollect all his knowledge about the tome, about dark magic, about all his knowledge of existence… to stop here and think, share, and recite….
The last layer. Coercion. Hoping that Sage saw his progress through the scanning charm, Severus began to chant a counter-curse, touched blindly for a vein and cut his left wrist.
When he next found his bearings, he was lying on the floor, his head sideways on something soft that smelled good, and he felt the delicate touch of long cold fingers. His eyes fluttered open, and Severus found himself with his face on Sage's lap, a healing scan levitating next to him in the air. It must have shown he came to his senses, but the caressing touch on his hair didn't stop. He gave himself some seconds of rare peace before he remembered Granger and sat up.
"She'll be all right," – Sage was quick to tell him. "She fainted in synchrony with you but reacted well to a simple Ennervate. Now she's asleep. I healed your wrist. You should rest too."
Severus searched her face for anything more than that, but the witch seemed weary beyond measure. Her lips were almost white, her skin green with exhaustion and the dark circles under her eyes were frightening. So he wasn't at all surprised when she didn't even try to follow him when he got up from the floor.
A short glance around showed all the kids resting. The two boys snored, leaning on Sage's bed in the "girls' dorm," watching over Granger deep in slumber on the opposing bed. At least they must have told themselves they were.
Severus gathered Sage from the floor by offering an unsteady arm to support her waist, helped her to his berth, and tidied the place. The books flew back to the bookcase with a swish of his wand, the mortar returned to his storage in the same manner, and one of the chairs slid to him obediently. He transfigured it into an armchair before he flopped down on it inelegantly. Sage, by that time, was asleep sitting on his cot. The most gallantry he could afford at the moment was kicking her legs sideways, so she canted on his pillows before he fell asleep.
It was bright daylight when Severus next came aware of his surroundings, hushed voices susurrated, and his wand got sooner into his hand than he could possibly get in terms of being awake. He saw Potter approaching the fold of the entrance, and with a malicious smile, he cast a nonverbal Duro. The boy hissed when his hand knocked into the lapidified groundsheet and instinctively shot him a nasty look.
Severus showed a finger towards the table. "Sit," – he said silently, not to wake the exhausted witch just an arm-length away.
"Oh, come on! Seriously, we just wanted to talk!" – Weasley cried out in protest, waking Sage, who sat up straight, reaching for her wand. When she saw the murderous look upon Severus' face, she said something about a strong coffee and disappeared towards the kitchen.
Severus rubbed the back of his neck with a palm, trying to cope with the sudden morning and also to somehow talk himself into a measure of patience. Alas, Granger didn't seem to grab the importance of said coffee.
"We would only like to go outside to talk, sir. We understand we caused a problem, we won't go far or–"
So much about patience. Severus felt most of his buttons pushed. "Sir,"- he slowly repeated. "How thoughtful of you, Miss Granger, to suddenly remember to add the honorifics after weeks of neglect! How very thoughtful and at the same time how utterly pharisaic and futile! Do you dare to believe such nuisance of a spoilt child would worm herself to my better graces by graciously giving what is only due? Do you happen to hope your last trespassing on all and every rule of this camp, your school, even common sense, would go unnoticed by a single effort of being suddenly polite?"
Severus' gaze measured the three kids, Potter seemed resentful, Weasley a notch pensive, and Granger repulsed.
"Of course you do!" – He answered his own question, beginning to raise his voice. "Because that's what you've been all taught up until now, have you not? The irreproachable batch of heroic Gryffindors and their arrogant disregard of everyone but their own breed! The same that bought them house points for rule-breaking, by the Headmaster's hand, no less, the same that is praised and supported in all their endeavours to break their tiny necks! How many did you hurt by your irresponsibility over the years? Which of you is keeping count?"
Seeing Wesley's and Granger's fuming could never be as rewarding as watching Potter silently reaching his boiling point. He pushed on, almost enjoying the slow rush of redness, flushing the boy's face.
"I'll count it for you. Quirrell was the first. He died with the sole sin of being a miserable idiot. Arthur Weasley didn't lose a life, only reputation, and almost a job to provide for five ungrateful brats, but why would you care? Lockhart's in the Janus Thickey Ward at St. Mungo's – a miracle, by the way, he is without Mr. Weasley's sister, but who am I to suggest your priorities when deciding upon your next escapades?
"Did you feel adventurous on the night you risked a whole castle of students and several villages' worth of people getting preyed on by a werewolf, or have you only counted the incomparable advantages of letting loose a mass murderer and a traitor? All to prove your peerless heroics, but don't let me judge you only upon your youthful errors and flair for entertainment! Let's just get down to the heart of things and ask Amos Diggory how delightful it must feel to conjure seventeen different flowers every fucking month on his son's grave! I'm quite sure he would oblige and elaborate in great detail–"
Potter's capacity of restraint ran out, and he shouted at the top of his lungs: "As if you cared!"
Snape couldn't help the delighted smirk when he finally broke him.
The witch's outrage from the kitchen felt much more surprising. "As if?! You short-sighted miserable little–" – Sage seemed to choke on her anger.
Severus couldn't help feeling mirth upon her lack of words.
Such insults took time to form. It seemed the witch still had had no sufficient impulse to build up her anger… well, better late than never… "Aargh!" – the witch meanwhile cried out unintelligible in frustration, making Severus' brows lift, and he wondered if she wished to stomp too.
"What the hell do you think you're doing here in the first place?! Who did you think have–"
Fearing Sage would let on something in her outrage, Severus decided to cut in: "We all know what, don't we?" – His voice sounded strangely calm even for his own ears as he rolled up his shirtsleeve.
Granger promptly averted her eyes, Weasley swallowed hard and eventually turned his head away, but Potter stared at the Dark Mark with the determination of the fanatic. Severus felt the snake move in the skull.
"I guess this is as good a moment as any other to whistle for the Dark Lord then, is it not?" When Potter flinched, and Granger yelped, he knew he could go on.
"This is what you expected, wasn't it, Potter? Whatever else for did we kill time here trying to fill your pathetic mind in vain to have at least a faint chance against him after all, than to give you over? All the world is to revolve around you, is it not, Potter? Hence, no one could possibly have a better thing on their minds than serving you or digging your grave!
"You must think we've enjoyed your presence here immensely. You're demanding answers, you're prying for information, you're taking your safety, food, clothes, rest, for granted, you're trying to command loyalty… has it ever crossed through your underdeveloped mind just once that you're not the special hero the world had been awaiting? That you're just a child in need with an insatiable ego that rivals with the self-proclaimed tyrant you'd wish to throw?"
"You don't have a single idea about Harry if you think that!" – Granger exclaimed, just seconds before Severus was sure the boy would have erupted again.
Never mind, this show of blind loyalty was almost as entertaining!
"You're only angry that they stole your bloody bike!" – Granger went on, obviously furious with Snape's horrible accusations. "But it wasn't even their idea! It was mine!" – her voice cracked and trembled, not unlike some years prior when she vouched for the two boys and took the blame for Quirrell's troll.
Severus was ready to answer when a mug with steaming coffee appeared in front of him, sufficiently breaking his line of thought with unexpected kindness.
"Would you elaborate then, Miss Granger?" – Sage asked calmly, sitting back down on Severus' cot. "Whatever did you imagine to achieve endangering your life and others' to create distraction and process books that were restricted with reason?"
Granger swallowed hesitantly, and she looked over her accomplices. To Severus' surprise, it was Weasley who nodded with a shrug. Strange, he would have thought it must have been Potter's decision if the others outed anything about the big plan….
"I-I tried to find something about the spell," – she admitted.
"Which spell?" – Sage pushed on.
"This one," - the girl showed around. "Locu- locumtotum. We've decided to break it."
"You've decided?!" – Severus repeated, but Sage kept her calm.
"Why?" – She only asked.
"Because… because it obviously doesn't work out as it probably should. You want too much from Harry, it must be impossible or…" – Severus suffered another surprise when he thought he saw disappointment in the young witch's eyes.
"Anyway, he says he cannot do it, and we're stuck here." Granger went on. "We don't even fully know where - taking only your word for not missing the whole year when "returning." It doesn't make sense. Professor Snape never wanted to help Harry, you might pressure him into it, but that's just what he is, he never would and–"
Granger's hesitant flow of words stopped abruptly when Sage laughed up with such honest cheer that not one of them could mistake her mirth for mockery.
"You presume too much about my abilities Miss Granger if you think I could ever make your Professor do anything against his will! And you completely misunderstand my character if you imagine I would," – she added on a more sober tone. "Haven't you noticed that the whole journey was his idea? Or that the place you questioned belongs to him? Would you imagine the professor you all seem to hate with such determination relentlessly worked in these past two months to make it even possible for you to stay alive?"
Severus pulled a face with distaste, and he saw Potter's distrustful grimace, but peculiarly also the other two's hesitance. Especially Granger's. What could have occurred here? A breach of loyalty? Or were the little Gryffs not as similar to each other in the first place as he usually saw them? Disturbingly, he couldn't decide.
"I have bad news for you, Miss Granger," – Sage went on undisturbed. "None of the tomes contain any indication of the spell we've used to get here. It's a recently developed charm, so to speak…" – she cleared her throat in discomfort Severus could easily understand, so he chimed in:
"Besides, none of you can leave here with your memories intact," – he made it clear for them all. "Not to endanger a witch who only tried to help you, whatever you may think about the rest. Potter's mind is a playground for the Dark Lord. Until he learns to keep a secret, none of us may return. So whatever thrill you get off playing with others' lives, you will not put her at risk outing her efforts for the enemy to know and then attack her."
He stood, and dismissing his charm on the canvas, he was ready to leave this aborted discussion behind when Potter finally yelled his resentment:
"You're one to talk!"
Severus stopped short and heard Weasley trying to placate his friend:
"Leave it mate, it doesn't–"
"NO!" Potter seemed through his last thread of nerves. "IT DOES WORTH IT BECAUSE HE HAS NO RIGHT! I KNOW WHAT IT FEELS LIKE! NONE OF YOU DO! I WAS THERE, I SAW IT! I SAW CEDRIC, WHAT THEY'VE DONE TO HIM, I'VE BEEN THERE! D'YOU THINK I WANTED ANY OF THAT TO HAPPEN?! AND NOW I'M THE OOONLY ONE TO STAND UP FOR HIM…" – his voice cracked and turned suspiciously sloppy for a moment, but he quickly got over it and went on.
"You can criticize Dumbledore, you only prove my point there! Sirius was right; you cannot be trusted! You have no idea what you're talking about! I don't endanger them. I never asked anyone to face this! I NEVER WANTED TO FACE THIS, I HAD NO CHOICE, HE DIDN'T GIVE ME! YOU HAD A CHOICE, AND YOU SCREWED IT! YOU JOINED THEM! YOU SERVED THEM! DID YOU HAVE A THRILL?! YOU WANTED TO KILL SIRIUS, OF ALL PEOPLE! YOU OUTED REMUS IN THE THIRD YEAR! AND YOU DARE TO EXPECT TRUST AND US ALL TO BELIEVE YOU TO WANT TO HELP?"
His words couldn't be harsher than his own musings, and Severus felt a strange cold calmness descending upon him. Having it finally all out on the table was strangely relieving. At the same time, he'd probably never felt more livid in his life.
Snape lifted his chin, and replied on a rare calm tone: "I expect exactly nothing from you, brat."
His silent voice lingered long in the tent after he left them. Out in the clearing, Severus only regretted not telling the boy he was henceforth alone.
If he didn't want to deal with the boy since he fished him out of the Pensieve, there was no way he would ever look in his direction again. But the voices reached him through the canvas. Sage's berating the brat for going too far, asking how he dared – it was a meaningless effort. He couldn't imagine a thing that would change his mind before he heard Potter's answer.
"He only got what he deserved. It was not even enough! You obviously side with him, so why don't you join him? Do you want to Obliviate us and give over to Umbridge? Do it; I don't care! Cedric had no one to ask him before he was killed. He only took that bleedin' Cup! It was me! Whatever he says, it had always been me! I didn't ask for it for sure! If someone is at fault, it has always been him! Defending Slytherins, taking points, threatening Sirius… I've never wanted anyone to do this, he does!"
The one thing that got through Severus' enclosed mind of that all, was the honesty of the boy's belief that he risked no one's life or efforts. He faulted him, the Dark Lord, fate, or whatever he believed in, but himself, because…
Gods, the brat honestly believed he fought alone!
This had never occurred to Severus before this morning, he believed Dumbledore's machinations, his reinforcing mischief and calling bold thirst for danger youthful adventurousness, planted deep enough the sense of never being left alone – a feeling he literally made a fool of himself in his youth to ever experience, for whatever short a time, in whatever company!
Yes, it was a mistake. What news! Did the boy really imagine it had never occurred to me I screwed up? But then again, Potter couldn't know about most of his deeds… So it was an instinct. Which he cursed but never truly faulted. What he faulted was the boy's hazardousness. Taking risks was annoying enough but cleaning up behind his boldfaced idiocy was completely different! And returning to Sage, who still tried to sort out this mess for his sake, now the boy's blindness and reluctance endangered her life too.
With sudden decision, Snape returned to the tent. He wasted no time arguing or explaining, only waited for Potter to turn to face him, and he cast Legilimens.
A flood of heightened emotion and disjoint memories – Black in various situations, Dumbledore turning away after Arthur's attack, Diggory grabbing the Triwizard Cup, Diggory lying dead, Barty Crouch changing back from using Polyjuice Potion. Snape also saw himself repeatedly, showing off his Dark Mark to Fudge… then this morning again. With sudden force, he reached for any memory about Cho Chang. The Ravenclaw girl was dancing with Diggory at the Yule Ball, she blushed by some reason in the Owlery, she approached on the main stairs and–"
"NO!"
An unexpected force ejected him from the boy's mind.
"HOW DARE YOU?! YOU HAVE NO RIGHT!" – Potter shouted, and this time Severus didn't hold back.
"Stop me!" – He sneered. "Legilimens!"
This time he went straight for Cho Chang, and received such a forceful stinging hex, his shoulder and a side of his neck felt aflame.
"So you truly can stop an intruder, do you?!" – He challenged. "Legilimens!"
He faintly heard Granger shriek and Weasley protest. He couldn't care less. This time he chose all memories he was aware of about the Trio's rule-breaking.
Arthur Weasley's damned Ford England, brewing Polyjuce in a loo – what were they thinking? Organizing a secret Defence association, training Lovegood, Finch-Fletchley, Finnigan, Longbottom, the Patils, the Weasleys, Jordan,… he only stopped of his own volition. Then he turned his attention towards any memories about Dumbledore. The Headmaster giving consolation, the Headmaster giving an explanation - wait a moment, why the hell would I support the child for any superficial debt to his goddamned father?! Severus lifted his wand by sheer surprise and looked at Potter, scandalized before remembering his initial intention.
"So you say it is not your doing, is it?" – He slowly began to drawl. "Because you are not a self-centred little turd! You are loyal to the grave, are you? A true Gryffindor, who would never out his friends, horribile dictu, the Headmaster of Hogwarts? Do you have no shame betraying those you should defend?"
Potter stared murderously but didn't say a word.
"ANSWER ME, YOU BRAT!"
Faintly Severus was aware that even Sage flinched, but she didn't try to stop him. Nobody else mattered.
"The moment one picks at your disturbingly drear love-life, you defend all thoughts and emotion,"- he told the boy. "Every single memory you happen to have. THAT is the way to do it if you happen to be wondering about the method! But let someone push for memories about your closest friends, breaking the rules in incriminating detail, every effort Dumbledore put into your miserable upbringing, you let the trespasser have his full of every thoughts and memories there are to gather!"
He paused to look at the two other kids and enjoyed the moments of his revelation sinking in.
"You do have defences; you're just reluctant to use them!" – he spat the words. "You are too lazy to practice and steal a witch's time who had no obligation to even try to assist you! Of course, you outed everyone and feel no remorse for betraying them, but what should I expect after you almost killed your best friends just hours ago?!"
"I did not. It was–" – Potter seemed curiously apologetic, but Severus had no time or patience for his excuses.
"BOTH of them in one night, and a Muggle!" – he roared. "Are you covering behind Granger's generosity? So she had an idea. I ask you, Potter, did you consent?!"
"We both consented," – Weasley's voice sounded shaken. "I'm sorry, Hermione, I should have known better. It really looked awful."
Severus kept eyeing Potter, who grabbed after his defiance with visible effort. Probably his pride was greater than to let the greasy git win. Then, with an impulse, Severus decided to go all the way, adjusted his stance, softened his voice, and mimicked the Dark Lord's mannerisms to the best he could when he spoke again.
"So you are the one standing alone against Lord Voldemort, are you, Harry Potter?"
Lazily, like the Dark Lord liked to perform, Severus lifted a wandless hand, and on the call of his finger, the boy's body emerged into the air.
"Let's see with what pathetic protection Dumbledore armed his champion!"– he softly hissed again, not for a second giving a mind to anyone's yelp or the horrified expression on the boy's face.
On a twist of his finger, Potter's back bent back, and the boy helplessly levitated closer. "Legilimens," – he purred softly, almost like an endearment, in sharp contrast with the brutal force with which he penetrated the boy's mind.
This time he finally met reluctance. As much as he would have praised it some months ago, now he pushed through it without a thought. Everything Potter knew about Dumbledore or the Order, Granger's address, Weasley's father's plotting with Black at Grimmauld,… the faint attempt to stop him sometimes returned, the boy didn't give up this time at least, but the spell finally broke by Snape's will.
"Congratulations, Potter, you'll be such a useful servant when your time arises!" – He hissed softly before he let the brat's body fall on the floor.
Granger's voice broke first the eerie silence when Potter's body didn't move. "HARRY! Whatever have you done to him?!"
Severus glanced at Sage for the first time since he returned to the tent. The witch pulled her legs up on his bunk and hugged them, watching him with hesitant appreciation. It suddenly occurred to him how dark the Dark Lord perceived her mind, and here, he just performed in the stead of the darkest wizard to the maximum of his abilities. On his questioning gaze, she replied with an apologetic roll of a shoulder. It was disconcerting how little she seemed to mind the show.
Meanwhile, Potter enjoyed his peers' attentions, at least Severus thought that until he finally spoke up.
"No, I'm all right, just a headache. That's the least."
When Severus turned with some surprise, Granger was staring daggers at him.
"How could you–" – she began, but Potter took her hand, and that silenced her.
"He could because he knows him. He knows him like I do. Not even Dumbledore…" – Potter swallowed and hesitantly stopped. "He meant me to see that he knows him too."
Weasley stared at him. "What do you mean, mate? This was quite horrible, believe me!"
"Because it is, Ron," – Potter said, hanging his head. Then he suddenly looked up to Snape, and to his surprise, asked: "He is, isn't he? Even for you…."
Severus snorted. "What did you think?"
This time when he left the tent, Sage followed him and wordlessly handed him his mug. She peeked up at Severus with hooded eyes and bit down on her lip to hide a smile that promised… Severus choked on his hitching breath, feeling like he was already naked in her boudoir. The witch stepped away with mischief and longing in her eyes, and he could only shake his head, stunned by her apparent ability to excite him to the point of physical discomfort with a glance….
He rather escaped than retreated to his workbench to refocus his attention on the sack of pieces for what should have been his motorbike, only realizing within about half an hour that that glance somehow silenced all his thunderous thoughts. Or any kind of thoughts, really, and his eyes sought her out. She still was that disturbing witch he never hoped to understand.
Sage readied their meal with confident wand moves above the open-air fire pit. The cauldron emitted delicious smells, and she had not a glance to spare for him in her single-minded effort. Watching her secretly for some minutes finally tempered the disconcerting experience.
After counting and restoring the pieces, Severus cast a long-awaited Reparo, and sighed with honest relief when the Black Shadow stood together again. He had found all the parts last night; praise whoever had the presence to hear it! At least that was not a sacrifice his unfaithful luck demanded! It gave him an unreasonable calm, especially under the circumstances.
The morning's events didn't leave the kids untouched. Granger and Weasley kept their heads together, discussing whatever they felt they must. Severus also noticed them peeking toward one side of the camp, where Potter sat alone outside the line of the trees. The boy looked troubled even from this far. He pulled his knees to his chest and kept his eyes on his shoes… It would have been tempting to hope that he finally understood the consequences of his deeds, alas Severus rather thought the boy was just plotting his revenge.
A short visit to the side of the main road, Apparating in silence from the other side of the clearing, and he was convinced their hectic night didn't demand more of his attention. Both Muggle vehicles disappeared with their drivers, with no sign of any unusual tracks or difficult consequences. A relief if he ever knew one. Severus decided to walk the better part of the distance to clear his head on his way back.
The morning's developments were astounding if he worked his underdeveloped optimism hard enough. At least he could prove to Potter the need for Occluding, also they both found the boy at least capable of trying. But, unfortunately, that didn't mean he could get rid of about thirty years of doubt on a whim – or, as he preferred to put it, throw his devotion to realism away. The brat won't learn Occlumency overnight. He also won't become careful, thoughtful or a deep thinker just like that… Severus grimaced discontented, and he looked up to the sky.
After the lack of rest at night, the sun seemed way too bright and hot today. He made himself comfortable with a cooling charm, wandless, to satisfy his magic's constant need for entertainment, and he forced his mind to continue assessing Potter.
Honestly, the name disturbed him even before conscious thought could even enter his mind. No wonder he kept calling him "the boy," "the brat," or "the nuisance"… Whenever he called the wonder boy by his father's name, something went awry. He only noticed this because now he had time aplenty to observe him with his peers. And their behaviour was off. Way off.
First of all, he'd never seen Potter ordering around any of them. If he had to name their interactions, he would have said the boy relied on his friends. Then, Weasley never complained to his bestie to entertain him with some idiocy. If he pushed for entertainment, it was mostly a partner in Wizarding Chess. It didn't match Severus' expectations, but he thought he just didn't hear the incriminating part…. Strangely, he wasn't sure anymore. There was plotting, mostly from Granger and partially from the wonder boy.
Then there was Granger's part. She didn't sit idly while the other two engaged in mischief. She supplied background and knowledge like Lupin used to, but she also took part in the dangers, not passively, and not by necessity.
Severus didn't believe for a second that she could be solely responsible for last night's events. On the contrary. She likely fixed up the boys' plans, impatient for her education or some other swotty reasons; however, she didn't seem to take the blame on the wonder-boy's command. Instead, she stood up by her own volition, which was curious, and not for the first time.
Now, he remembered in vivid detail how it used to be with James Potter and his merry gang, and this had not been their way. Of course, the brat could have possibly amended his practice learning from his father's mistakes, but realistically he couldn't have knowledge about his father's infernal gang before his third year. Still, his ways didn't seem to have changed ever since. Severus had no memory about the Torturous Trio having a watchman, Weasley didn't behave as a second self of Black, Granger didn't act as Lupin – last night was a prime example. And the wonder boy apologized to his accomplice without a prompt! He'd never heard anything similar to that.
It was as if the boy understood – at least partially – his idiocy endangering Granger… and Weasley seemed as if he was bothered by the accident they caused.
Truth be told, the only one he knew the Trio attacked three on one had been Longbottom in their first year. It shaped his view on them greatly when he heard about the incident from an outraged Minerva, but of course, the Headmaster had his own opinions on the matter. As always. Malfoy and his cronies followed Lucius' example, having one always on the watch-out, moving together, and their clashes with the Trio were with even numbers….
It didn't make sense.
Severus had to wonder if he'd made a mistake by not taking these three as individuals. The thought was new and peculiar. He rarely entertained himself by re-visiting his opinions. He usually took great pains to form them and then acted upon them…. Not that he didn't try to give the brat a chance in his first year, but that didn't work out as he thought it would. His attempt to measure the boy came back to him with a tirade delivered by Minerva, asking why the hell he couldn't leave the boy alone during his first class.
Blast them all, he did from that day! He tried, at least, before the curfew breaks, the meddling with the Philosopher's Stone, before they broke the Statue of freaking Secrecy, or until the brat exploded Goyle's cauldron with Filibuster Fireworks! It all proved that his first impression was right and just, and the boy deserved no special treatment at all.
And with that, Severus managed to talk himself into such a bad mood that any attempts at re-assessing the boy's behaviour were futile. He would just keep in mind that such reassessment might be in order and that he had probably better found a new name for the brat…. Before he blinded himself completely.
Fifty-five steps.
The road was dusty.
Seventy-five steps.
Severus looked about to see some birds in the strange quiet, but approaching noon, most animals had already found hiding.
A hundred more steps, and he realized that he'd returned to his childhood game, counting steps when going for a long walk.
Twenty-five – fifty-five – seventy-five – a hundred – twenty-five –
How strange, he hadn't even thought about this silly game for about thirty years!
Seventy-five – a hundred –
It was entertaining, reliable, and calming. Also reassuring. He never missed counting.
– fifty-five –
Was it really possible he misunderstood the Trio? Dumbledore hinted he thought he did… it always felt like he was being mocked. However, Sage once alluded that Severus and the boy had more in common than he might have considered… it sounded ridiculous.
– hundred – Sage – twenty-five – Oh, gods! – fifty-five – he missed her even now – seventy-five –
Fuck, he had no idea how to clear his mind of her ever again! She was here every night and day. She was at least at the periphery of his thoughts constantly. How the hell was he supposed to hide this from the Dark Lord or even Umbridge? As things were at the moment, probably any fool who cared to look would see how much he was taken by her.
– twenty-five –
Merlin, it was a shame how loose he'd let his mind go here. Of course, Héloïse would applaud him for it, but how was he supposed to return? Damned copper! They were all basically sitting on the alchemical catalyst of change, individual growth, love … screw healing! He should stop this before his feelings ruined them all!
– a hundred –
Was it possible that the wonder boy experienced the effects too? Maybe he wasn't that wrong earlier but needed to refocus. All of them possibly went under some change on their own accord… they were all liable to the effects of copper mines after all…
Severus stopped counting steps to convince himself to change some of his attitude against the Trio when he saw someone approaching from the camp's direction. First, his heartbeat rose embarrassingly, but this figure was shorter…. By the time the wonder-boy came close enough to talk, Severus had closed his personal musings into a hidden nook of his mind, so he could ask what Potter wanted on a suitably threatening tone.
The boy boldly levelled his gaze to Snape's. "Why do you hate me?"
Severus' face contorted into a painful grimace.
"If you took this long to spread some of your nonsensical whining, I wish you had saved the effort!"
"No, I mean it," – the boy insisted. "I've been thinking. You might want to help now, but ever since my first day at Hogwarts, you've always kept picking on me… You still answered the other day when I asked about my mum, you were the only one! You also took us away from Umbridge, but you straight out hate our presence! It's quite clear you do, you know; I didn't need Moody to point that out!"
Severus felt almost relieved. "Ah, so this is the reason for this encounter. Whatever your Professor Moody berated you for, she must have been just. Now–"
"No, I came to ask you why!"
"Why what, Potter?" – Severus came dangerously close to losing his temper.
"Why do you hate me? And why would you help?"
Severus turned his head away with disgust and continued on towards the camp. The boy followed him.
"Outside your miserable circle of acquaintance, people try to do what is right, not only what they expect to enjoy."
"That's not an answer!" – the boy cried out, offended.
Severus snorted. "You want to bet?"
After twenty-five steps, he thought better of it.
"I assure you, it was. If you managed to understand it, I won't need to give you another today," – he added with a sigh, shaking his head in advance. Obviously, this discussion was the best chance to re-evaluate Potter, even if he felt no urge to do so.
"If you believe me so useless, I wonder why you bother preparing me against Voldemort–"
Snape turned furiously. "Do NOT say the Dark Lord's name!"
"I wonder what difference it would make here!" – Potter yelled in his face, but Snape didn't even wince.
"That… is not the point–"
"So what is it then?!" – the boy screamed at him, obviously desperately trying for something. Severus had no idea for what…. "Bloody hell, Snape, what did you expect people would think? You're more away than here; you criticize Dumbledore, mock the Order, call us all names, and want me to believe you don't hate us all, just what? Prove a point? What's your bloody point?!"
It surely didn't surprise the boy when Snape stepped threateningly close, visibly struggling to hold back his temper.
"The bloody point, you prat, is exactly this impertinence and your obvious inability to think, which endangers others," – he hissed in a menacingly low voice. "I've never believed the Headmaster should give you special treatment, for that reinforces your stupidity, as you take every opportunity to prove! You're preoccupied thinking I hate you, and you hate me in return, not for a second realizing that it doesn't matter at all! Your feelings or mine won't change a damned thing. They will neither win nor end a war!
"You want respect and niceties? Deserve them! Behave as if you were not a spoiled, selfish little tosser! I know you imagine you're none of those, but that's exactly what you are. And address me once more with this utter lack of minimal respect, and I'll show you to your place as you should have been shown years ago for good."
The boy took a hesitant step back and swallowed, but his words didn't match with this show of nerves. "D'you think you will scare me? As if I haven't seen enough of that!"
A long look in Potter's eyes convinced Severus even without Legilimency that the brat referred to Tunney's abominable spouse.
"That blockheaded husband of your aunt maybe has nothing on you, but others do," – he reminded. "Is this your problem? Self-pity? Are you still wallowing in the big bad injustice of the world? I cannot fathom how it might have escaped your notice, but life is not fair. Do you want to keep your privacy intact? Occlude! Do you want the wonderful new world to come? Fight! Fight the intruder on your mind! Do you want to have friends? Defend them in your memories!
"And if you want any respect, defend your masters too, especially Professor Dumbledore and Professor Moody. Because if you don't, you're not better than the last coward, hiding behind Granger's skirt whenever you're caught in mischief. Because if you don't, you're not better than the last pitiful traitor, giving your peers' and masters' secrets to the Dark Lord."
Now the boy stared at Snape with his eyes aflame with hatred, but surprisingly Severus found he didn't hate the brat. The way those eyes loathed him was still disturbing, but not to the same maddening level he remembered. Instead, Severus felt repulsed and frightened. Frightened out of his senses indeed, thinking about the risks and the stakes. No matter what, never should the safety of so many fall onto such a boy. Especially not her safety… he tried not to add, but it was impossible. If it was not about her, he might haven't even engaged in such a fruitless discussion….
"I'm not a coward," – Potter shouted while Severus lamented his own emotions. "And I haven't betrayed anybody!"
"Yet," – Snape emphasized. "If you want to keep it that way, I suggest you close your mind." – This time, he finally had a distinct feeling he reached the boy. Potter's hostile stance wavered, and he showed more than one sign of thinking.
"But… But Ron's dad… Mr. Weasley would have died if I–"
"You cannot know that," – Severus replied quickly but in vain.
"Dumbledore said it helped!" Potter argued. "And Mr. Weasley thanked for my–"
"Oh, because THAT is what truly matters, is not?" – Severus lost patience again. "Merlin, what a glorious moment it must have been! Tell me, Potter, did you have a silent apotheosis, or was there an angels' choir? Maybe harps and fucking trumpets?!" – He had a lot more coming, but unfortunately, Potter cut most disturbingly:
"Just because no one thanks you for anything, for you being such a…" – he must have seen Snape's eyes narrowing – "well, like this, doesn't mean it's a sin to accept praise!"
Severus winced. Honestly, he was close to strangling the boy at that particular moment, but he had been closer…. He swallowed and remembered his list. He needed the brat. Step five, the Fool card, No. 0 – Severus silently repeated this to himself twice with clenched teeth.
"Well then… don't waste a moment clearing your mind. I'm sure your peers would cope the best they can. Arthur would understand you did your best, and asked Amos to recommend wood for a nice coffin. Surely, Dumbledore would say something wise and meaningful again, when you buried Granger, next to her parents, if I may suggest. Do you seriously believe I do not know what I'm talking about?"
It even surprised him that Potter didn't react. Severus never knew that the look upon his face changed so much the boy became more curious than angry.
He felt Potter's gaze while he turned away to think. Of course, they were already through this. On their first lesson… maybe that was when he missed something important. What else did Potter want? Now he remembered. Information. Severus tried to imagine looking into the Dark Lord's mind and shivered under the hot sun. He doubted he would consider it a gift if he could… but if he had no other source of information, would he risk prying? Whatever the circumstances…?
Severus turned back to the boy with a new idea: "You said in your godfather's house that you wanted answers to all your questions."
"Yes," – Potter lifted his chin with defiance.
"Ask!"
The boy's eyes rounded out in a moment. "What?"
Severus' grimace showed his reluctance, but he had no better idea. "As for a dimwit with a penchant to pry, you seem very much surprised," – he drawled. "You want a connection to the Dark Lord, so you wouldn't envy anybody else's place in the Order. Your godfather, I imagine. I promised you answers. As long as I know you can keep your mind close from any intrusion, I will answer if you ask."
Potter stared at him with mouth agape, and Severus felt tempted to tell him off. He had no pleasure in the deal.
"Would you really?" – the boy asked dumbfounded.
"Yes."
"The truth?"
"What would it be worth if I wanted to mislead you?"
Potter seemed hesitant. "Why?"
"That's none of your business," – Severus spat, then he realized he should amend his words if he wanted to make an agreement. Oh, Merlin! "I only give you answers about what influences you. This does not."
This time the boy didn't hesitate long. "What is at the Department of Mysteries?"
Severus sighed and silently said his farewell to another piece of trust that linked him to the Headmaster. "Among other things… there are prophecies."
"Why does he want a stupid prophecy? And why would I dream about that?"
"Because he's never heard it," – Severus began to Occlude without thought or intent. "This is the reason for your parents' death and your scar. The Dark Lord heard the beginning of a prophecy about something or someone succeeding against him, coming the year you were born, at the end of July. He decided it was you, but he's never heard the second half, and he couldn't destroy you. You are dreaming about the Department because the Dark Lord wants you to go there."
To Severus' surprise, Potter took the news better than he would have given him credit for.
"Why?"
"Because… the Prophecy was about him, and by his choice, you, and only those, may gather the Prophecies from the Department, who are subjected to them. Because he hopes to force you to give it over to him. He hopes he could destroy you if he heard it all."
Potter seemed to consider this before he spoke up again: "What was in the second half?"
Severus was wary about this moment, and he couldn't help swallowing with some trepidation. "He thinks it was the reason he couldn't destroy you."
"So was it about my mum?"
Severus closed his eyes for a second, then gazed out to the hillside. "I cannot know, but I doubt that." He swallowed again. This discussion proved much harder than what he was ready for. "The Headmaster said it marks you as the champion to defeat the Dark Lord. He's raised you to be that. I could never argue against it."
Oddly, the boy jerked his head with so much accusation, Severus had to check his words, afraid he gave on what he hoped to hold back. "Because you think I couldn't!"
Severus' eyes narrowed with determination. "Because I believe you shouldn't!" – he thundered. "Learn to think, Potter, heroes and champions live short and lonely lives. Would you want to be predestined to such fate?"
This must have surprised the boy because he eyed Snape suspiciously for long moments, then he seemed to sink deep in thought.
"So…" – he finally went on – "you only know the first part of the Prophecy, just like Vol– You-know-who?"
Severus nodded with a blank face.
"But Dumbledore knows it all?"
Well, that was interesting – Severus nodded again. "Yes."
"D'you think he would tell me?"
Swallowing the surprise and some relief with one big gulp, Severus decided to take as much as he could: "If you prove your skills as an Occlumens, he might."
It really seemed that the brat wanted to protect his friends and have the most information he could possibly gather. Severus began to wonder how long he would go to satisfy this curiosity… on the other hand, his masochism found poetic justice in the fact he had to be the one telling Lily's son about the prophecy.
Days came and went in rapid sequence, Sage was busy training Potter, and she had some or another tidbit of success to share every day. Severus soon got into the habit of exercising his Snape persona again and regularly attacked the boy's mind, with less and less success. He was almost afraid Sage would join Potter's fan club, hearing her constant praises. But then the witch always added a word of gratitude, silently arrogating the boy's success to his efforts – which seemed a small exaggeration. Nonetheless, it was a welcome sentiment.
Severus was cautiously optimistic. Which led to the next problem, figuring out their return to Hogwarts. Not that he – or as a matter of fact, the others – hadn't wasted a thought on the issue before, but it turned out that all of them had different agendas about their return.
The boys seemed to prefer any idea that would have landed them at Headquarters. Granger was wary of the committal order from the Ministry, Sage kept listing all who may be affected: Trelawney's situation was dire after her dismissal, she had never been closer to falling victim to the Dark Lord's curiosity, and Aberforth's pub wasn't the most secure place to defend her. Minerva and Hagrid were both under scrutiny. They and Sage were the next in line for dismissal. Severus thought about Lucius' plans to remove Sage from Hogwarts and wished to find any solution that would give her protection against that.
It all led them to endless disputes and raised a bad gut feeling in Severus. A premonition of the worst kind made him anxious about their choices, or as Sage loved to put it, made him obstinate and unreasonable.
The day arose when the wonder boy was ready.
Then soon, the day arose when it was so plain to see, no one could deny it. He would never reach the level where he could lie under Legilimency, but he could close up his mind against intruders, ejecting even the most violent attack against his mind. After that, there was no delay any longer.
As much as the kids were ready to join Black at Grimmauld, or – in their more recent and wildest dreams – Dumbledore in hiding, and couldn't imagine any scenario with a Ministry order vanishing, Severus was nearly sure that he could make Lucius work his magic on the ministry officials.
"And since when do we trust a Malfoy?" – Potter didn't hesitate to ask, and both his second selves seemed to be in agreement.
"I didn't ask for your trust, neither your opinion," – Severus dismissed their ridiculous arguments. He was preparing to risk his station and reputation on both sides. If he had to work with somebody, that'd better be someone he knew. "Lucius proved more than enough how easily any document can vanish at a snap of a finger. There's no one better for the job."
"And do you think Dumbledore would agree to that?" – Weasley raised the question. "There's dad to do it. He's also in the Ministry."
Severus somehow managed not to laugh. "Well, I won't ask him to try," – he finally replied, considering Sage's questioning eyebrows. "Lucius has a dab hand and all the funds to have his wishes granted, wouldn't you agree?"
Sage huffed loudly but agreed. There was one problem checked. Severus couldn't help losing his patience when Potter pushed on:
"But why would he ever help us?"
"That's not your problem. You fished for enough information; this does not concern you."
"All right, say you convince Mr. Malfoy, but how would that help us with Umbridge?" – Strangely, it was Granger who showed herself ready to finally move on. Severus grudgingly reconciled working with them all to avoid a possible mess up. It was still hard to cooperate with school kids.
"I can't see any better option than to Obliviate her."
Weasley stared at him suspiciously, with his doubts written all over his face. "And the squad too?"
"What squad?"
"The Inquisitorial Squad, Professor, which Umbridge established in the morning," - Granger explained, visibly surprised neither of her teachers counted with the Slytherins. "Malfoy and the others–"
"Who, Miss Granger?" – Severus interjected impatiently. "You are framing now Draco Malfoy again, and who else do you wish to talk about?"
"Well, Crabbe, and Goyle, and Pansy Parkinson for sure, and that sixth-year girl…."
Severus raised both eyebrows.
"And Montague," – Weasley hurried to add – "and Warrington, and…."
"And Millicent Bulstrode" – Potter supplied.
The list eerily reminisced the one in Chubby's report a month prior. Which was not at all for Gryffindor ears. Neither was his true opinion on the matter.
"I'll talk to them," – Severus nodded with pragmatism and was ready to move on, but it seemed Potter wasn't.
"And just like that, they wouldn't pick on us any more…?" – The boy looked more than doubtful.
"Yeah, they've been parading around and deducting points all day! Even from Fred and George! I heard that–"
"Because taking points is such a capital offence indeed! You must want them all in Azkaban, don't you?" – Severus cried out exasperated. "Well, let me disappoint you there, I will not partake in your childish inter-house dissents, and they could do much worse than that in their situation."
"You should know," – Weasley seemed to mumble, but Severus couldn't be quite sure he heard it right. Nevertheless, the three were biting back chuckles, which made his blood boil – Sage's interference was probably timely:
"Let me then summarize! We return, you Obliviate Umbridge, you talk to your Slytherins, you reach out to Malfoy… I guess I should take the teapot then to have a quiet drink until you finish. Oh, and let's not forget Trelawney, have you already found the best way to hide her, or should we rely on Aberforth's hospitality longer? Because I honestly think that in such an upheaval would be undetectable if one spirited her away."
Severus sighed. "Here we go. You know, witch, you wouldn't get hurt if once you stayed behind, especially when we both know about the plan to remove you from Hogwarts."
"You trust Lu–"
"He," – Severus corrected.
Sage looked around impatiently but nodded.
"All right, you trust his abilities a little too much. Haven't I proven repeatedly that I can outsmart him whenever I wish to?"
"Don't get conceited, Beauxbaton; even you need a place to stay safe. In real time…."
"Safe, you say? Don't you have just an inkling that it might be already too late?"
"It's not too late before you're forced to join his plans," – Severus tried to indicate Lucius, but Sage must have misunderstood him:
"As if I haven't already!"
"The other him, witch!"
About this point, the three Gryffindors' confusion and blatant curiosity reached the point Severus couldn't neglect.
"We'll talk about this later," – he proposed.
"Oh, I'm sure we will!" Sage's eyes were sparkling combativeness. "Especially because you cannot take Sybil. If we get rumbled, you have already planned too many threads to lead back to you. I wonder how you plan to explain it all away!"
Now Severus turned fully towards the witch, ready to fight to have his way.
"This whole escapade never happened, Potter can miraculously shut his mind, and his dimwits won't get questioned because Chubby will take them safely away. Where would you like to chime in? I am the Head of House for those nitwits; it is my duty to keep them at bay! So what's to explain away? No order from the Ministry, no expulsion, and you stay where you are."
"And Sybil? It's better to take her now than later, or would you prefer me to take the risk twice?"
Severus was ready to tell her off when Granger suddenly asked about their classmates.
"What about the others who heard Umbridge? The Gryffindors won't tell, but the Ravenclaws?"
"Oh, the superiority of Gryffindor ideals!" – Severus rolled his eyes, but he hung his head quickly because the question was valid. Moreover, he already knew what Sage would suggest, and he hated to admit defeat.
"All their words would be idle gossip and nonsense if your PP had a sufficient false memory," – Sage smiled brashly and leaned even closer to mock him. "And I'm way better with those, even better with practising all year!"
"I really wish you could temper your ego," – Severus grumbled.
"But?" – Sage asked back without missing a beat.
"Whatever makes you think I have any reason to amend my words?" – He returned, unthinking of how much he slipped into one of their private banters… even if this time, it wasn't as personal as they were used to have it. "You'd better come up with a good tale to feed her before I do, so you wouldn't have to mock me for solving one more thing without your help."
The witch looked as if she already had a saucy reply before her gaze slid through the three Gryffindors' stunned faces, making her think better of it and turn her face away, swallowing hard.
After a few moments of thinking, Sage jerked her head and asked:
"Do you think Minerva could cope without the giant?"
Severus was admittedly surprised.
"Hagrid? I guess… but why would she?"
"Well, we forgot Albus. I won't go rogue more than I really have to, and this is way too big to leave him out…. On the greenhouses Tuesdays, I had the impression Hagrid could contact him. And one of his pets could help with a great enough havoc if you know what I mean."
Severus' lips slowly pulled into a wicked grin as he watched her. "You want to send him with a message, but on the Pink's order. So she would have a reason to celebrate and stopped looking deeper, while the commotion would hide our tracks. It should make for a better gossip!"
"Yes, it should…." – the witch agreed and looked around with some hesitance. "Does he have any creature that is small enough to slip into the castle unnoticed but nasty enough so a classroom or better a corridor should be evacuated?"
Severus lamented the question, but before anything could come to mind, the two boys cried out in unison:
"Blast-ended Screwt!"
Granger shivered, but Sage couldn't be more lost. "What?"
It took some time for the kids to explain the Blast-ended Screwts to Sage, but she soon smiled contentedly.
"Perfect. It's volatile enough."
"You cannot mean to sneak one into your classroom,"- Granger protested.
"The goddess forbid, but I want all to believe that it was there," – Sage smiled. "It will give both of us time enough to have our errands," – she added innocently. It didn't work on Severus.
"I said no," – he repeated unfazed.
"Sybil needs to be moved, Severus. There won't be a better chance!" – The witch argued in vain, Severus only shook his head.
"Why is she so important anyway?" – Potter had to prove his instincts working as he asked.
"Yeah, she's absolutely phoney–"
"Mr. Weasley, mind your tongue when you talk about one of your–" – Sage began to chastise, but it proved ineffective when all heard Severus' murmured words:
"Not absolutely, which is quite unfortunate."
To end the disputes, Severus pushed himself from the table and walked out to the evening. It wasn't yet chilly, but cool enough to have a nice walk or to think undisturbed.
He knew he was everything Sage called obstinate and unreasonable. And he had no better reason than a bad feeling. Was it madness? Was it madness to try to protect her from the ominous words of that foolish prophecy? The one that promised he would lose a war, the one that said he couldn't possibly protect her, the one that promised he should lose all his hopes to win his prize – whatever prize?
He wanted no rewards, not this time, not any more! And he wanted none of those things Mira Rasical's memory promised. Not to lose a war, not to lose his hard-developed hopes, not to lose her! So she had to stay at Hogwarts….
His emotions pushed him to his limits even before he heard soft footsteps approaching him from behind. He didn't need to turn to recognize them.
Surprisingly, the witch didn't try to talk or to catch his attention in any way other than to hug him from behind. It was unexpected and safe. Severus melted into her arms without a thought, sighing deeply and closing his eyes against the settling darkness of the twilight. When Sage lifted her hands to massage some tension from his shoulders, his senses came to life.
All the small moves of those ridiculously long clever fingers, their pressure on his shoulders and their caressing his neck felt the closest to salvation he had ever known… and his body reacted steadily and slowly. His breath increased, his skin became oversensitive, he could hear even the grass rubbing under her shoes, taste the scent of her skin until the odd daze of drunkenness smudged his thoughts… he suddenly felt the need to defend himself before he lost the rest of his mind.
"I still won't let you go," – he whispered close to despair, thinking it would put an end to her ministrations. He was wrong.
"I know you're being a jerk by some supposed kindness," – she replied softly, never ceasing her strokes along his spine or rubbing the back of his head. He could feel her face softly pressing into his back. "I wish I knew when I lost your trust in my abilities, but I know it cannot be true…."
Severus struggled to make sense of her complaint. "I haven't…" – he moved his head to look at her, but Sage stubbornly hid behind his back. Finally, he decided to turn and force her eyes to meet his with a heavy heart. "You're an exceptional witch. I would be a fool to deny it…."
Sage's eyes were suspiciously sparkling even in the darkness of the fallen night. It was hard to maintain any resemblance of rational thinking and not get lost in them.
"I –" – Severus tried, chocking on his honesty lamely. He grimaced. This romantic snuggling under the starry sky seemed alluring, but he had hardly half an idea how to properly do it… "For fuck's sake, witch, I haven't had a thing to lose in these last fifteen years or so, and now you want me to just let you…."
Severus turned abruptly away and stared through the line of trees along the hillside. "You're driving me mad," – he admitted. "I know Lucius better than you do. If he decides to remove you from Hogwarts, he won't stop until he satisfies his greed. The most I can do to hinder him is to keep you as far away from him as I possibly can, and–" – he halted when Sage stepped next to him and looked up in his face.
He shuddered to think how bare his expression must have shown his soul. "Trelawney isn't worth you," – he whispered anyway, ashamed of the thought, still faithful to the truth. She knew how screwed up he was already – he consoled himself.
Sage smiled with sadness and maybe a hint of pity in her eyes.
"It's not your place to rank people by their worth, is it?" – She asked silently back. "Do you think I would choose your path, taking you to the Dark Lord time and again? Do you think I never want to step in? Not when I see you go there? Not when I hear you were out with the gang chasing Dementors in a prison?" – She sucked in her lower lip, and probably a bunch of additional thoughts if he knew her at all, and she shook her head. "The minute we begin to think like that, they win."
Severus stared at her.
"Then they have won already, Sage," – he told her with all seriousness. "Have you never asked yourself what made me serve the so-called light side? All my friends are on the other, but one. And she died already."
His words seemed to surprise the witch more than he expected, but there wasn't a decent way back anymore.
"You wanted your revenge, and your cousin's death prompted you into action. I changed for my friend, even if I hadn't changed in time for her to know. Because she was worth it. Even in her death. And now you want to tell me I cannot measure you by the value you carry in my life?" – He shook his head. "Sage, your friendship is worth me more than you could possibly imagine."
He felt so raw and naked, her hand reaching his face, cupping it tenderly before she breathed a kiss on his lips felt like a miracle.
"Then don't ignore my values," – she asked him, looking deep into his eyes.
Of all the moments in his life when Severus had to admit total defeat, this was probably the sweetest. Still, it felt like a horse kick in the guts.
Severus turned away, running a hand through his hair, trying – trying hard to reconcile with the turn of their discussion. He wanted to do things she would have understood as disrespect…. for what?
Maybe it wasn't such a bad idea. If she didn't take Trelawney now, she would talk him into it later. Or he would have to do it, trying to cover his steps – it might have been what he hoped for, but he wasn't taken so far as to not see the logic if it hit him in the face…. If only he just didn't have this odd bad feeling…!
"You will have Chubby at your disposal," – he finally told her. "He will appear by your side wherever you call him. And I would appreciate it if you were back before midnight. At least don't give the Pink a reason to sack you!"
For his greatest astonishment, the witch rewarded this with a wide grin and two arms thrown around his neck.
"Would you be rather waiting in my quarters?" – She asked with cheek, kissing his lips with slow enthusiasm. "I'm sure I could find a way to prove you I suffered no harm… you could examine me in detail…" – she whispered softly in his ear, and if she was already there, she also licked the curve of his earlobe, not leaving place for a shadow of doubt about her meaning.
"I'll be there," – Severus could only breathlessly assure before he grabbed her by the waist and kissed her with all the pent-up emotion of these last two months that he had no other way to profess.