CHAPTER 12
Snape Smells A Rat
A little over two months passed without incident following that meeting of the Order. In early April the Hogwarts Board of Governors met at the school for their annual inspection. Among them was Lucius Malfoy.
For the most part he and Dumbledore avoided each other; when that was not possible, they observed a chilly formality which, for Dumbledore, was quite out of character. There was no pretense of cordiality between them, or of not knowing precisely where the other's loyalties lay.
At lunchtime the twelve Board members were ushered past the staff table and into the staff lounge, where a table had been set specially for them. As Lucius Malfoy passed Snape, he appeared momentarily startled by the sight of Snape holding Professor Lovejoy's chair for her, one of the little courtesies he had begun showing her openly following the revelations of their night together. Malfoy caught Snape's eye and let his gaze drift insolently down to the oblivious Professor Lovejoy and back up, a smirk fixed upon his features. Snape bristled and stared back with undisguised hostility, his hand coming up to rest on Professor Lovejoy's shoulder in an unmistakable gesture of possession. Malfoy lifted an eyebrow and directed a more calculating look at Professor Lovejoy before continuing into the staff lounge.
Professor Lovejoy had missed the silent exchange, but she felt Snape's hand tighten on her shoulder. She looked up at him. "What is it, Severus?" she asked, puzzled by the fierce look on his face.
"What? Oh. Nothing, nothing." He sat down beside her, absently rubbing his wrist. She noticed at once and paled.
"Severus?" she whispered urgently. "Your arm--is it--the summons?"
He shook his head. "No. A bit of tingling, no more. A summons is unmistakable. This is nothing to worry about." She stared at him until he met her eyes. "Really, Trillium. I'll let you know when it comes. I don't know why this happens sometimes. Who knows what he's up to, what he's thinking about."
His eyes were fixed on something partway down the Gryffindor table. Professor Lovejoy followed his gaze and saw Harry's hand pressed to his forehead.
"Oh no," she said, alarmed. "Severus, do you think--"
"Yes," he said as he rose hastily and started toward Harry. "Quickly--follow me." She rose and hurried after him, ignoring startled looks from the other faculty as she rushed to keep up with Snape.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
Harry, Ron, and Hermione watched as the Board of Governors filed past the staff table into the lounge. With great interest, they also observed the little byplay between Snape and Malfoy senior.
"Now that was interesting," said Hermione musingly. "Have you noticed how he's been doing that a lot lately?"
"Doing what?" asked Ron.
"Oh, holding Professor Lovejoy's chair for her, giving her his arm when they walk together, lots of little things like that." She directed a meaningful look at Ron. "You know--things that a gentleman does for a lady?"
Absorbed by the drama taking place at the staff table, Ron missed the hint. "Little things...mm-hmm." Harry grinned; Hermione rolled her eyes in disgust.
"Honestly, Ron, you're hopeless," she said.
When Harry looked back at the staff table, Snape was rubbing his wrist, where Harry knew the Dark Mark was burned into his skin. Professor Lovejoy noticed and turned very pale, and Harry wondered why. She put her hand on Snape's arm, clearly asking if he was all right, and he made a negative motion.
At that instant Harry's scar blazed to life with a blinding, white-hot pain. He cried out and pressed a hand to his forehead, screwing his eyes shut in agony. He was only vaguely aware of a commotion going on around him, Ron and Hermione worriedly asking him what was wrong. His scar hurt so badly that for a few moments he was utterly incapable of responding.
Then Professor Lovejoy was there, and--Snape?--was bending over him with a concerned expression. Gradually Harry's vision cleared.
"I'm all right," he said in some embarrassment.
"Harry, come with us," said Professor Lovejoy. "Right now, come along." She grasped his elbow firmly and marched him out of the Great Hall, Snape on his other side. Harry was puzzled and a little worried.
"I'm okay," he protested. "I don't need to go to the Infirmary."
Snape and Professor Lovejoy looked at each other. "My office, I think," she said quickly. "It's closest." Snape nodded and they started up the main stairway, Harry feeling like a prisoner between them. They entered the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom and Professor Lovejoy led the way up to her office. She motioned to the sofa.
"Please, Harry, sit down," she said.
"Really, I'm fine," he repeated. "It's nothing, honest."
"Oh, for heaven's sake," Snape said impatiently. "Potter, sit. Now." Harry's jaw was set mutinously but he did as he was told. Snape and Professor Lovejoy looked down at him, one with annoyance and the other with a worried frown.
"You noticed, Severus, did you not? Harry's scar started to hurt him immediately after your arm began to tingle," said Professor Lovejoy. "Can the two be connected somehow, do you think?" She looked from Snape to Harry anxiously. "This has something to do with Voldemort. I'm sure of it."
Harry stared at the floor grumpily. He had no wish to discuss his scar with Snape. Snape seemed of like mind, looking around the room as if seeking a distraction--looking anywhere but at Harry. Professor Lovejoy finally broke the silence.
"Well?" she said loudly, her tone ominous. Harry and Snape both jumped and looked at her, startled out of their respective fits of the sullens. Her arms were folded in front of her and her eyes were steely, warning signs that both males wisely acknowledged.
"I don't know," Snape muttered. "I...suppose they could be related. I have no idea what the tingling means, however, so it's impossible to be sure."
Professor Lovejoy turned to Harry. "What about you, Harry?" she asked. "Do you know what it is that causes your scar to hurt?"
He nodded. "Professor Dumbledore thinks it happens whenever Voldemort's either very angry or very pleased about something. But I don't know where he is or what he's doing, so I don't see how that helps."
She thought. "Hmm. I don't either, at the moment. It does seem a rather odd coincidence that your scar and Severus' arm--both of which are directly connected to Voldemort--alerted you at the same time, doesn't it?" She paced in front of the fire for a few minutes, then she whirled round.
"I've got it!" she cried. Snape and Harry eyed her warily. "What happened right before your arm started tingling and your scar started to burn?" she asked them with an excited air. Snape shook his head, trying to remember, and Harry shrugged.
"You had just sat down," he said finally. "Mr Malfoy was walking by and gave you--" he jerked his head toward Snape, whose eyes narrowed at Harry's deliberate lack of respect-- "a sort of dirty look or something. Then he looked at Professor Lovejoy kind of funny--" He broke off, suddenly comprehending the furious signal Snape was attempting to send him to stop talking. But it was too late.
"Lucius Malfoy?" Professor Lovejoy said. "What do you mean, 'kind of funny'?" She eyed Harry, puzzled. He, catching Snape's now unmistakable hand-across-the-throat gesture, shrugged and said nothing. Unfortunately for Snape, however, Professor Lovejoy turned around in time to also see it.
"What on earth is going on with you two?" she asked. "What did Lucius Malfoy do? I didn't hear him say a word. Someone had better start explaining--right now."
Snape fidgeted uncomfortably beneath her stern gaze. "He...didn't exactly say anything," he began. "It was more of a--a look," he floundered.
"An insulting look," Harry said helpfully.
"Exactly! An insulting look," said Snape, nodding to Harry. "A very insulting look," he repeated. It made perfect sense to him.
"That makes no sense at all, Severus," said Professor Lovejoy. "He looked at me?" she said incredulously.
"Insultingly," Snape reminded her desperately.
"Oh, of course. How could I forget?" she said sarcastically. "Really, you two. How juvenile you sound. Lucius Malfoy looked at me insultingly. What has that to say to anything?"
Snape said defensively, "Well, you asked what happened immediately before, and that was what happened."
Professor Lovejoy regarded them for a moment in silence. Then she turned and began pacing again. "All right, then. Lucius Malfoy, Lucius Malfoy," she muttered. "He's a Death Eater. He has Voldemort's ear." She looked up. "What if he has more than that?" she said, almost as if talking to herself. "What if--"
Snape's eyes widened as he saw where she was going. Harry, not quite there yet, stared from one to the other, wishing one of them would just come out and tell him what was going on.
"Yes," breathed Snape. "Why not? The Dark Lord is a skilled Legilimens, and who knows what skills Malfoy has perfected?"
Professor Lovejoy said, "But even if he was communicating with Voldemort at that very moment, what could have occasioned sufficient anger--or glee--in the Dark Lord that you and Harry would feel it?"
"You," Snape said slowly. "He was looking at you."
"Ah, yes," she said, rolling her eyes. "Insultingly. I remember."
"Not just that. More as if something had just occurred to him," said Snape. "Something to do with you. I don't know what, but I don't like it." His glance met hers and for a moment they might have been the only people in the room. Professor Lovejoy thrilled to the possessive look in his eyes almost as much as if he had touched her.
Harry regarded the two of them with alarm. Whatever did his aunt see in Snape? How far had things gone between them? Having only just discovered his new relative, he wasn't ready to give her up yet--to Snape least of all.
Snape suddenly glanced at Harry and correctly interpreted his resentful look. Fully aware of its cause, and feeling smugly superior, he sent Harry a smirk that the latter longed to wipe off his face. Professor Lovejoy, too, suddenly remembered that they were not alone, and she reverted to her former crisp, businesslike manner.
"So. Lucius was looking at me. Insultingly. As if he were planning something nefarious. Involving me. Is that it?" She looked questioningly at Snape, then at Harry. They nodded. "Well, what could it be? What nefarious plan could Lucius Malfoy possibly have for me? I'm hardly his type, and there is the oh-so-lovely Narcissa to consider. Dalliance doesn't really seem like Lucius' style, does it?"
As she spoke, Harry had an unwelcome mental vision of her chained to the wall of some dungeon at Malfoy Manor. And as suddenly as that, he knew the truth. He sprang to his feet.
"It's not for Malfoy," he blurted. Snape and Professor Lovejoy looked at him in astonishment.
"What do you mean, Harry?" she asked.
Harry opened his mouth, but Snape held up his hand commandingly. He stared at Harry, comprehension dawning in his eyes. Harry opened his mind and forcibly shoved his vision at Snape, who blanched visibly.
"What is it? What are you doing?" Professor Lovejoy asked in some frustration. There was entirely too much silent communication going on around here. Did no one speak their thoughts any more?
Snape interrupted her exasperated thoughts in a low voice. "Potter may be right," he said. He shook his head as if to make room for that distasteful thought to sink in. "Malfoy may have thought of taking you to the Dark Lord." He, even more clearly than Harry, understood just what that could mean.
"But why should he want to do that?" she asked. "Why would Voldemort have any interest in me?"
"Because Harry does. And because I do." Snape looked at her, torment in his eyes. "Remember, Trillium, I told you it wasn't safe for me to love you. It gives the Dark Lord something to use as leverage should he decide to take a more, shall we say, pro-active approach to punishing me." He swore softly, pounding his fist into his hand. "This is all my fault. I should have had more sense."
Harry had kept still as long as he was able to. He had watched the signs of his aunt and Snape's growing relationship from the beginning but, reluctant to sound like a jealous idiot in front of Ron and Hermione, he had kept his qualms to himself. But this was just too much.
"Oh, come on," he burst you. "You love her? You? That--that's not true! It can't be." He looked at Professor Lovejoy. "He doesn't even know what love is! All he knows how to do is hate everyone--including me. How can you listen to this rubbish?" He gave her an anguished look and started toward the door, but a strong arm stopped him. Realizing it was Snape, Harry tried to shake his hand off, but the iron grip forced him to turn back.
"You will apologize to your aunt immediately," Snape hissed. Harry just looked at him, unable to speak for the huge lump in his throat.
Professor Lovejoy regarded Harry in utter surprise. Then she went to him and drew him to her side.
"Well," she said with a quavering little laugh. "It sounds as though you've wanted to say that for a very long time." She looked at him as he stood next to her, stiff and resentful, and sighed.
"To be honest, Harry, I can see your point of view. Severus has diligently maintained a certain...reputation...among the students here," she said. Snape scowled and sat down in the armchair. She sent him a tiny smile.
"But you will have to suspend your disbelief, Harry, at least in this case, because he does love me. And I love him. It's not something either of us intends to go shouting from the rooftops, but there it is. You don't have to like it, but Harry--" She put one finger beneath his chin and made him look at her. "It's time for you to grow up a little. You and Severus may never be friends--although if you can't find some common ground I think it will hurt all of us eventually--but you need to understand that I can, and do, love both of you very much." Harry sent her a doubtful look out of the corner of his eye. "Well, of course I do," she said briskly. "You're my nephew, you idiot. I've waited for so long to meet you, and you're everything I'd hoped you would be. Why wouldn't I love you?"
She sighed. "Both of you have got to stop acting as if there's some kind of contest for my affection that only one of you can win. I won't tolerate it. I suppose I didn't want to see just how bad things were between you, but I should have realized."
She held Harry at arm's length and pointed at Snape. "Harry, Severus Snape is not the devil incarnate. You need to show him the same respect you would give to any other teacher." She looked at Snape. "And Severus, Harry is a terrific kid. He is not like James--he is nothing like James. We all have people in our lives we don't like. But as you yourself are so fond of saying: get over it."
She glared at the two of them a moment longer--Harry suspected those were tears he saw in her eyes--and then, apparently not trusting herself to say anything more, she swept furiously from the room and down the balcony stairway to the classroom. The outer door slammed--hard--and Snape and Harry cringed. They looked at each other guiltily.
"Wow. Scary," Harry said finally.
"Extremely scary," Snape found himself agreeing. "I'd--er--rather not have to go through that again." His eyes slid toward Harry. "I suppose," he said, with an air of one making a great concession, "we could, perhaps, agree to keep the--hostilities--to a minimum?"
"I suppose," Harry mumbled.
"At least when she's around," Snape amended.
"Right."
They stood there a moment longer, not sure what else to say or, indeed, whether anything else really needed to be said.
"Well," said Snape, rousing himself at last, "perhaps I should try to find her and...make amends." He sent Harry a sharp look. "Might I suggest you do the same before the day is out?"
Harry nodded glumly. He wasn't about to alienate one of the few people who accepted him unreservedly and with affection. Amends were definitely called for. He sighed heavily. Snape looked at him.
"I know exactly what you mean," he said with some feeling.