Chapter 6 – Here and There

Cameron was unaccountably nervous. All day, he'd been running around the house straightening things that weren't crooked and casting Dusting Charms on surfaces that didn't actually have any dust on them. He'd already showered twice and gone through every set of robes he owned.

Get a grip, he told himself, you're not fourteen. Nor are you a fucking girl.

Plus, it wasn't like it was a date or anything. Just tea with a mate on Boxing Day. That's all.

Beyond frustrated, he closed his eyes and plunged a hand into the pile of robes on his bed. Whatever he came up with, he was wearing it.

He found himself holding his green dress robes edged with golden embroidery. Well, thank the Founders for that. He'd have hated to go back on his word.

Finally, he was clothed and his hair tied back. He fretted over which teacups to use for a while before he remembered that he only had one set and the issue was entirely moot. The clock on the mantel chimed four, and he threw himself into an armchair in the sitting room and snatched up a book in an attempt to feign nonchalance. He was slightly out of breath, but maybe that wouldn't show.

Moments later, Snape stepped gracefully out of the fireplace, not a speck of ash on him.

"How do you do that?"

Snape raised an eyebrow in question.

"Come out all spotless and dapper?"

"A simple Repelling Charm takes care of the soot. The rest, I fear, is down to natural poise. I suppose that means you're in for a life of stumbling out of floos."

"Ha bloody ha," Cameron replied and gestured to the other chair. "Please, have a seat."

He busied himself pouring tea and inquiring about additives for a few moments, then they lapsed into silence. Snape seemed perfectly content to sip his tea and stare.

Cameron couldn't help noticing that he was better dressed than usual. His black, form-fitting robes were trimmed with burgundy velvet and his hair was so shiny. He wondered what it would feel li—

"So," he ventured, cutting off his thoughts before they got too ridiculous, "how was your Christmas?"

"Uneventful. Yours?"

"Same."

Cameron sipped his tea and tried, once again, to decide if he was going to give Snape his present or not. He didn't want to seem forward or make Snape uncomfortable for not getting him anything in return, but he still wanted to give it to him. Maybe later.

"Working on anything interesting, now that you've a break from the dunderheads?"

"Not particularly. The infirmary needed restocking."

"Ah."

Silence. Again. This was not going nearly as well as he'd hoped. Still, Snape was there, and that was something. Wasn't it?

"Why did you ask me here?" Snape asked abruptly.

Why, indeed? He had no idea. Then he had a sudden thought.

"I have an ulterior motive, of course," he answered, smiling.

"Are you planning to inform me, or shall I have to guess?"

"I was hoping you'd return the favor. I've heard so much about how beautiful Hogwarts is, and I've never been there. I'd love to see the castle sometime." If he could get Snape to invite him there, he'd be able to make a detour to the Room of Requirement and get the diadem. Not to mention he'd get to see Snape again. He didn't delve into why that seemed so important.

"Perhaps I shall consider it—if I like your gift well enough," Snape answered with a smirk.

"Wha—how did you know?"

"Sage, I can feel you fretting about it from here. Out with it; I've brought a small something for you as well."

Warmth suffused his chest and he couldn't hold back his grin. He held out a hand and Summoned the present.

Snape's jaw dropped. "Did you just…was that…?"

What was Snape going on about? He inspected the package, but other than the wrapping being a bit, well, garish, there was nothing out of the ordinary.

"Where's your wand, Sage?"

Oh. Well, shit. This was what he got for being distracted. "I, er. I think it's on my bedside table. No big deal. Don't you want your gift?" he asked, holding out the package.

Snape just looked at him incredulously. " 'No big deal'? Are you daft? Nonverbal and wandless? How long have you been able to do that?"

"Since I was nineteen." He held the box out again. "Do you want it or not?"

"I…I—yes. Yes. Here's yours," he finally answered, fishing a small package out of his robes and enlarging it.

They exchanged gifts, his guest looking at him warily all the while. Snape opened his present without taking his eyes off Cameron, but finally tore his gaze away to see what it was.

He held up the plaque, which read 'Master at Play' and quirked an eyebrow.

"To hang outside your lab," Cameron explained.

"You realize this is liable to send the students into fits."

"Yes, that's part of its charm."

Snape looked like he wanted to be amused, but was still too worried Cameron might do…something. He sighed and opened his present. Nestled in folds of tissue, he found a Sneak-o-scope.

"Thanks, this is great!"

"To, er, aid you in your…snooping."

Cameron laughed, but Snape still looked guarded, like he was waiting for Cameron to use his quick reflexes and overabundant power to do something unspeakable to him.

"Oh, take a deep breath. I'm not the bloody Dark Lord."

Snape's eyes went impossibly wide and he jerked his left arm up against his abdomen. "You—you couldn't possibly…Are you…?"

Cameron sighed. He really needed to learn to control his tongue better when he was upset. It was kind of entertaining how easy it was to get Snape out of sorts, but he didn't want the man scared. He told Snape the truth—or part of it, anyway.

"No, I'm not a Death Eater. But I know that you were—I can sense the Mark on you."

Snape seemed to be paralyzed with fear or shock or some other unsavory emotion. After several minutes of silence, Snape sprang to his feet. "I'll just—I should…," he mumbled, heading for the floo.

"No, wait! Don't go, please," Cameron begged, grabbing Snape by the arm.

He turned back with a pained look. "How could you possibly want me to stay, knowing what you know about me?"

"Because I know more about you than just that. I know you're a good man. Tell me—did you enjoy what you did when you were a Death Eater?"

He opened his mouth, but didn't say anything.

"You can tell me anything, Snape. I'll keep your secrets. I'll even swear an Oath, if you like." It was a bit drastic—he'd lose his magic if he broke a Wizard's Oath—but he knew he'd never betray Snape's confidence.

"Merlin, you're serious, aren't you? No, you don't need to do that."

"Sit back down," Cameron entreated, "Talk to me."

"I—this is very personal. I don't…"

"I'm sorry. You don't have to tell me anything, of course. Only if you want to."

"I—I joined him of my own free will. But before he fell, I defected, became a spy for the other side. I never enjoyed it. It was—That's all I'll say." He looked as if even that little bit cost him a great deal.

"That's more than enough, Snape," he assured the man, who still seemed a bit skittish. He held up the teapot. "Another cuppa?"

XXX

"What do you mean, you hope there's a curse in here? I don't think I've ever encountered someone who wanted a hexed bedroom."

He studied the man in front of him, wondering if this job had been a good idea after all. He didn't look mentally unstable.

"It's just—," Marks started. "It's very personal, you see…"

"Mr. Marks, you can rely on my discretion," he said, hoping to put the man at ease so they could get this over with already.

"Right. It's like this—every time I bring someone in here, they change their mind and leave."

"I…see." He didn't see at all. He was here, and he didn't want to leave. Well, not so much that he suspected a curse, anyway.

"Women, I mean."

"Oh. Oh. I think I understand."

Marks sighed in relief. "Good. Do you…do you think you can help me?" he pleaded with a hopeful look.

"I'll certainly try. Give me a few hours in here and we'll know."

Less than an hour later, he found Marks in his sitting room.

He looked up from his book in surprise. "Did you find it already?"

"I think so," Cameron answered. "Tell me, do you recognize this magical signature?" He performed a complex bit of magic that exponentially amplified the signature he'd found on one of the knobs of Marks dresser.

Marks' eyes widened. "Miranda!" he gasped. "I—I never thought she'd do something like that. I suppose I did sort of deserve it…"

"I removed the curse, but you might want to apologize to her. That was a very strong Revulsion Hex—I wouldn't want to be on that witch's bad side." Cameron wasn't sure it was such a good idea, really. She'd probably caught him in bed with someone else. Well, maybe he'd get another job out of it when she cast an Impotence Curse on him or something.

Marks seemed to be thinking something similar. "I…I'll think about it."

XXX

It wasn't until school had let out for the summer that one of Snape's letters mentioned a Hogwarts visit. He couldn't blame him, really. It wouldn't do for any students to see him visiting the feared Potions Master and start to think he was human.

When he presented himself at the gates, Snape was there to meet him. It was their first meeting since Christmas, and he found he had to force himself to look away from the man and exclaim over the forest and the lake and the castle.

Once they were inside, Snape showed him to the Great Hall, and he acted like he was struggling not to be impressed by the enchanted ceiling. It was a rather impressive bit of spell-work, after all.

To his horror, they ran into Dumbledore on the way out of the Hall. His first instinct was to fling his arms around him and tell him how much he'd missed him. But the Headmaster had never met Cameron Sage. Luckily, Dumbledore was looking at Snape and didn't see the longing he knew must have shown on his face for a moment.

Once he'd gotten himself under control, he noticed that Snape seemed rather uneasy. Dumbledore just looked amused, and a bit curious.

"Headmaster, may I present Cameron Sage?"

Cameron stuck out his hand. "Pleased to meet you, Professor Dumbledore."

"You as well, Mr. Sage. I see my reputation precedes me."

Cameron mentally kicked himself, but, really, who didn't know who Dumbledore was? He was glad to note that no one seemed the least bit suspicious.

"What brings you to Hogwarts, Mr. Sage?" Dumbledore asked. Snape looked even more nervous at that, and shifted his gaze to the stone wall.

"My friend here was kind enough to invite me for a visit. I've heard so much about the castle over the years, I just had to see it for myself."

Dumbledore raised his eyebrow at Snape. "Your friend, hmm? And how long have the two of you been friends?"

Snape narrowed his eyes. "Leave me alone, Albus. You're just upset that you're not omniscient, after all. I've a right to a private life."

"Of course you do, my boy—I would never suggest otherwise. I'm simply pleased for you. Enjoy your visit, Mr. Sage," he added, and wandered off.

"Barmy old codger. Go choke on a lemon drop," Snape muttered and Cameron couldn't help laughing.

"Is he always like that?" he asked, knowing full well that he was.

"Worse, usually. He doesn't like to be caught unawares and it threw him off his stride. I could use a drink—join me?"

"Love to."

At his first glace of Snape's personal quarters, he decided they must have come furnished. The furniture matched that of his old dorm and common room, and from what little he had seen, the Slytherin common room as well. He knew Snape had been living there for three years, but the only remotely personal items were the books crammed into the bookcase.

"Brandy?" Snape offered. "I'm afraid I don't have any scotch."

Cameron nodded. For some reason, it warmed him that Snape had remembered his drink of choice, even if he couldn't offer it.

Once they were settled on the sofa with their drinks, he asked, "So are you planning another ingredient-gathering expedition this summer?"

Snape shook his head. "Nothing so exciting. I'll be here at the castle. What about you—any plans for the summer?"

"Well, a client recently purchased a house in South Africa and he's engaged me to check it for curses, but that should only take about a week. I might hang around there for a while though, do some sightseeing or something. I don't really know yet."

"Hm. Sounds interesting. I saw your article in last month's Dark Artifacts. It turned out rather less tedious than it might have."

Two hours and three glasses of brandy later, Cameron reluctantly stood up and made his excuses. If he stayed much longer, he'd probably get too drunk to do what he needed to. After convincing Snape that he'd be able to find his own way out, he headed to the door.

"Sage?"

"Yes?"

"I though perhaps we could…meet for a drink sometime. When you're back from Africa. If you like," Snape hesitantly proposed.

Cameron couldn't help smiling at how nervous Snape seemed. "Of course. That would be great."

Snape let out a breath in obvious relief. Was he really so unsure Cameron would want to talk to him or spend time with him?

"You'll write while you're gone?"

Apparently so.

"You know me. Expect an annoying letter at least once a week."

Snape's lip twitched in one of those almost-smiles and they said good night.

He had been a bit worried about running into someone, especially Dumbledore, on his way to the seventh floor, but the corridors were completely deserted. In no time at all, he had the diadem concealed under his cloak and made his way to the gates to Apparate home.