Chapter 8: A Cursed Necklace

Dumbledore was gone from the castle for increasingly long stretches of time. Whenever possible, Minerva called together the "team," to work on the Horcrux dilemma. Snape, Flitwick, Minerva and Bill Weasley worked late into many nights. Bill, a former Hogwarts Head Boy and accomplished scholar, had been working as a Curse-Breaker for Gringotts. In that capacity he had crafted many effective approaches to obscure curses. He had been a late addition, but a valuable one, for with all their research, through the Restricted Section and Snape's own private Dark Arts collection, they had not found a single spell to release the soul from a Horcrux without destroying the object. They were in uncharted territory and would have to create their own magic, incorporating all their specialties—a kind of holistic, "complementary" magical approach. Whenever they started to feel frustrated or blocked, they reminded themselves of Emma and worked with renewed spark. Especially Snape.

Despite his best intentions, Emma and Snape had fallen into a comfortable routine in just a fortnight. Emma would sit with her friends at dinner and chat and catch up on the day's news.

In the early evening, she would bring her marking into Snape's suite. Emma enjoyed her teaching and found much hilarity in seeing the Muggle way of life from the wizard point of view. They would work there companionably, regaling each other with occasional bits of student idiocy. It was during these quiet, intimate evenings that Snape was most himself, Emma suspected. With her, he was gentle and attentive, and he let loose his dry and witty sense of humor. Frequently, he would have a Wizard liqueur to sample, or a magical gadget for her, like the two-way mirror he gave her, or the charmed galleon which could summon him, for emergencies. He showed her his private laboratory, and allowed her access to his common remedy potions for headaches, dreamless sleep, etc.

One memorable evening, he showed her a Muggle-style picture of himself, about age five, in his mother's arms as they sat on a bench in a sunlit garden. Eileen Prince could not be considered pretty, but as she gazed at her dark-haired son with unconditional love and acceptance, she was beautiful, and Emma had said so. Snape had startled Emma then, by impulsively sweeping her up into an intense, powerful hug. He had held onto her for quite a while before reluctantly, and embarrassedly, disentangling from her. Emma surmised that during these times, he shared more of himself with her than he had with any other woman.

Every two days Snape would go to Hogsmeade for her to check the post and bring back connections to her other life. She treasured these letters and books and kept her sadness to herself, as she felt he had more than enough of his own. Enough for both of them.

If she wondered why their relationship was so chaste, she didn't let her frustrations show. She knew he would have to determine the level of intimacy, if they were to build a lasting relationship. He's so guarded and closed off from people. Nastiness and ill humor are his chief defenses. But I think Nonna was right, when he decides we should be together, nothing will stand in his way. I wonder if he's wary of Rick? But I know I have his blessing, Rick would want me to be happy. Even if it's soon . . .

"Am I falling in love with Severus?" she mused out loud.

One snowy Saturday, Emma and Snape shared a relaxing lunch together in the Great Hall. All the older students and most staff were in Hogsmeade that day. That afternoon Snape planned to replenish Madame Pomfrey's potions stores and had promised Emma she could help. They finished lunch and walked companionably toward the dungeons. As they walked, their fingers brushed, and impulsively, he linked his with hers, unseen under the long sleeves of their robes. He quizzed her about the ingredients for the headache potion. She identified all of them and he smiled at her ability. Their moment was broken, however, by a Ravenclaw second-year rushing to them, screaming, "Katie Bell's been cursed! Professor Snape, help! Help!"

Without a word, Snape ran to the Great Hall. Just a few minutes later, he Floo'd back to his suite, strode into his private lab, then Floo'd back to the Hospital Wing, carrying several vials of potions. He returned to the suite hours later and knocked on Emma's door. She was sitting on the bed writing a letter. Snape smiled tentatively and sat down on the bed, facing her.

"Severus, is Katie all right?"

"I hope so. I was able to stop the spread of the curse. Katie was taken to St. Mungo's, the wizard hospital, for long-term care." His voice broke and Emma realized the man was exhausted and overwrought. She scooted down to him and gently cupped his face with her hand. She leaned in and lightly kissed his cheek.

"Katie's lucky to have you here, Severus."

He recoiled from her touch and her words and leapt up. "You have no idea, Emma, of the idiocy of what you have just said," he hissed. "In truth, it is because of me that Katie is in St. Mungo's right now."

"So, sometime during lunch, when I wasn't looking, you CURSED her?"

"No, you foolish woman, it's more complicated than that."

"Then explain it to me, Severus, I want to know your truth."

"NO!" he raged. "I cannot. You will have nothing to do with me once you know 'my truth,' as you call it, and I could not bear that." Shocked at his own admission, he strode from her room and into his private lab, slamming the door.

Dinner in the Great Hall was subdued, to say the least, that night. Severus did not show up. Emma hardly ate. Minerva told her about the cursed opal necklace and that Katie's prognosis was uncertain.

Emma became lost in thought, replaying her earlier conversation again and again. Obviously Severus had nothing to do with that necklace. Why was he willing to take the blame for such a Dark act? Why did he see himself as the focal point of Dark Magic at the school?

Emma knew a bit about his dark past—faculty gossip had taken care of that. And she was not frightened of what she might hear, but rather more frightened that he may never open up to her. She made up her mind to press the point tonight, despite his discomfort and fear of rejection.

He was nowhere to be found in his suite. Probably down at the Hog's Head, drowning his sorrows, she thought. I'll leave the door between our rooms open, so I'll hear him when he returns.

In the hour before dawn, Snape slumped against the outer door to his dungeons. "Buck up, man, you've made it this far. Another lovely evening spent with the Dark Lord," he spat. Somehow, he managed to get himself into the inner hallway. In front of his suite door, he felt another crashing wave of pain and nausea. Retching, he fell to the cold stone floor. He had taken himself as far as he could on sheer willpower. He lost consciousness, giving in to his pain and sorrow.