Chapter Four
He had a dark scowl marrying his face. The day was bright and yet pale, his eyes narrowed every time the sunlight hit a particularly polished surface, sending blinding tendrils of light his way.
Of course those weren't the solo responsible for his frown and irritation. The fact that Severus Snape was walking to one of the Surrey Commercial Docks helped his bleak and unapproachable state of mind. Not for the first time he asked himself why he had ever allowed any form of agreement to be made in his old mind.
The only possible excuses were that he was either getting senile or he was going insane. And obviously none favored him much.
Not two days after the incident at the park, and the Golden Boy's final revelation, Snape received the first owl that had been sent to him since he was tossed into a cell in Azkaban. It bore a double-headed eagle crest, and it had been magically enchanted so only he could open the envelope and read its contents. The flowery handwriting he had found was not unfamiliar to him, although it wasn't one he knew very well.
It didn't take him long to search deep into his mind and extract an echo for those square A's and extended crosses on the T's. It was a direct letter from Durmstrang new and young Headmaster.
Teaching Piotr Antokolsky during his seventh-year brought Severus images of a tall, tanned boy, with an easy smile and a perpetual blush whenever a certain silver-haired fifth-year crossed his path. The Potions Master had enjoyed that year as the Russian's Head of House, especially because of Antokolsky's raw aptitude and sincere appreciation for potions.
Piotr never excelled in the craft, and if Severus' memory served him right – and it had always – his former student had managed only an Acceptable at his NEWT. Remarkable nonetheless. Even if Snape had only acknowledged it with a disdainful sneer.
The message sent was curt and formal, a polite invitation for the former professor to visit the school now under the young Russian's administration. As well as a legal copy of the documents that would be needed if he accepted the position as Potions professor once again.
It was clear that Piotr was acting like a true Slytherin, not taking anything at face value and careful enough to test the waters. It made sense, Severus had been away for far too long and the Headmaster would be a fool to simply take Potter's word as law. It was that suspicious and wary behavior that finally gave Snape all the reassurance he needed to sign the papers and send them back to Durmstrang the next day.
There was only one point that got him severely unpleased with the whole deal – Potter hadn't lied about the salary and he found out he had several other benefits coming with the job; like free reign when it came to his teaching schedule as well as absolute control over an endless amount of ingredients, even the ones of the most dubious form, like vampire blood and shards of unicorn's horn – the fact that every professor was expected to go to the school with the students in their first official year working at Durmstrang was rather abhorring to put it mildly.
Needless to say that a quick apparation somewhere near the wizarding school would be more than welcomed, mostly considering the option of travelling over two hours under sea with hundreds of hormonally driven monsters.
Well, a downside to everything, he gathered.
Obviously, the grudgingly acceptance of this particular term in the contract didn't exactly mean that he was anywhere nearer accepting his fate in that first day of September than he had been one month before when he signed the papers. And the closer he got to the dock he had been directed to on the latest letter that he got from Antokolsky, the darker his scowl became.
Around him he could see many wizards and witches with their loud offspring, presumably "incognito". How they planned on succeeding while wearing absurdly colorful and unmatched clothing he didn't know. It was good that that day the whole area of London Docklands was under subtle but still effective wards that made muggles more tolerable with that questionable fashion circus and unusually forgetful of anything out of the ordinary.
'Snape...'
Severus frowned at the voice that called him. He gritted his teeth and clenched his hand around his wand, but forced himself to take a deep breath and count till 10. He had to get used to people calling him that again.
After years of not being forced to handle the memories and the many ghostly voices that whispered in his ears, and nightmares, he was back to that world and on his own volition. The Potions Master was still unsure of why he was going back to magic full force, or why he had let an incompetent like Potter, of all, to convince him out of his boring as hell but blissfully uneventful life.
But the truth was that Snape was too accustomed to a double life to settle for one muggle existence. He had fought his nature as hard and for as long as he could and it still pained him that the Ministry's Poster-Boy had been the one to trigger the inevitable, but he clutched at the thought that Ernest Hamilton was an argument that couldn't be ignored.
That being, he controlled his most primal instincts of hostility and animosity, swearing to himself that he wouldn't give in to the urge to literally get rid of Potter.
At least not until the blasted boy did something that would justify his crime in any court.
Or maybe not in front of so many witnesses.
'Potter' he drawled irritably as the Man-Who-Defeated-Voldemort finally stood before him with a knowing smile that made his scowl deepen.
He should have known. The letter he had gotten from Piotr Antokolsky didn't let on in any way that is ex-most-hated-student would be there at the docks too, but then again Potter was just trying to make sure that Severus actually showed up. What in itself proved how little the brat knew him.
Severus Snape never went back on a decision, even if he damned himself in more than one way because of them.
He looked around himself, with a sneer that told Harry that his former professor was more than a little uncomfortable and displeased with the prospect of travelling with children and adolescents after so many years.
He could understand. For someone who had been known for his absolute aversion for any kind of pleasant contact or public display, the sight of several smiling and excited students and their relatives must bring the same amount of pleasure as that of a prolonged Chinese torture session. Without knowing why Harry was suddenly aware of the fact that Snape had never been at Platform 9 ¾ during his school days.
When screaming and laughing second-years brushed past them, he was brought back to the tall and brooding older man in front of him. Harry had been mindful of not even daring to extend Snape his hand or give him any other demonstration of greeting, it was more than enough that the once Slytherin Head of House hadn't forwardly verbally abused him yet.
The Potions professor merely stood there, his arms crossed over his chest, glowering at anyone who attempted to look at him as he surveyed the scenario with his custom contempt. As Harry had found him weeks before, Snape was wearing muggle clothes and he obviously didn't like it one bit. It was indeed strange to see the "Old Hogwarts Bat" without his constricting and strict teaching robes, although his wardrobe clearly hadn't changed in color. Black trousers, black dress shirt and black suite, what pretty much only added to his bleak artistic public persona. He chuckled softly at the fact that most of the muggles that appraised "Severus Black", would never know that his impossible personality wasn't at all an act.
Well, the most shocking still was the fact that his hair wasn't only longer but also kept at the back of his head in the same fashion it had been every time Harry saw him since that accidental re-encounter at the gallery. He fancied that the other man also didn't look much older. Snape looked tense and irritated but then again that was the only version Harry had ever known, and as far he knew, it was simply the way the Potions Master was and had ever been. There were no more layers to him.
Well, except for the dutifully and wittedly honorable spy.
'Is everyone here already?' Severus groaned impatiently as a particularly fat purple-haired old lady watched him with unmasked curiosity as she jabbed her equally obese and completely bald husband on the ribs.
Turning his attention back to the infernal creature, which he without a second thought blamed for that definitely ridiculous situation, he waited for his answer.
Potter was grinning at some midget with long braids that Snape wouldn't be able to identify as a boy or girl even if his life depended on it, although the kid was most certainly no older than 13.
The Boy-Turned-Man-Who-Lived winked at the twitchy before looking over at him, his eyes no longer masked and his green eyes blazing even more with the rays of sunlight that bathed their left side. Severus noticed that the glasses were back, although they were of a more contemporary design and not those idiotic round spectacles.
As he, his former student and perpetual pain in the arse wore muggle clothes, the younger one opting for slightly baggy jeans and a clearly old and overly used mustard sweater – that bore many noticeable holes and stains – over a white shirt.
'No, not at all...' Harry answered at last, grinning as Katharine Lühmann blushed bright red and hurried her way after her giggling friends 'The kids are still arriving...'
Severus cursed darkly under his breath, narrowing his eyes. He looked at his muggle watch and realized that there were still ten minutes before Durmstrang's ship ported at the third dock of Rotherhithe.
Thanks to the reformations at London Dockland, the students had a limit time to embark under the protective wards that would be raised as soon as the vessel ported. Those wards were a combination of complex and altered notice-me-not and Confundus spells and charms. All to keep muggles and other unwanted audiences from seeing them. As it happened, they were merely under an ancient but precarious charm that provided something akin to an invisible bubble, what made them all gather too close to each other to Severus' comfort.
'Will we be the only two adults there?'
Harry had to hide his smirk at Snape's sudden unpleasant epiphany.
'I'm afraid, yes...' he said not sounding apologetic at all 'I'm the only one who leaves the castle during summer...'
When a group of bulky and suspiciously mischievous sixth-years passed their way, shushing themselves abruptly as one of them caught sight of Potter, Severus' scowl darkened impossibly and his lips curled in annoyance.
'Understandable' he grunted glaring at the boys.
'Why I leave?' Harry asked absentmindedly, nodding to a few parents that greeted him as they kept a wary eye on the dark man in front of him.
'Why the others professors stay behind.'
He chuckled softly but the sound was muffled with the sudden wave of powerful and old magic that always followed the imperious emersion of Durmstrang's ship.
Snape watched impassively the grandness as the imperious ship was finally above the Thames' water and not under it. Secretly he had always enjoyed to the sight of it, ever since Severus first saw the ship when he was fourteen and Hogwarts had once again been the chosen school to host the Triwizard Tournament.
His fascination for Dark Arts had naturally made Durmstrang highly interesting in the Potions Master's eyes. He had spent many years reading about the school, its history. One of his strongest frustration was the fact that he had never been invited to go there. Just one more thing he could easily blame on his father, adding another topic to an already long and unending list.
As soon as the gates were opened and the stairs magically rearranged themselves on solid ground, he was awaken by motherly cries, fatherly well wishes and general parental last admonishing and advising. When he was sure he wouldn't be able to stand it any long without hexing them all silent, Potter made the first decent offer he had ever done to him.
'Would you like to wait inside?'
With an exasperating growl he looked over at the prat, making sure that his question wasn't only obvious but it had actually been unnecessarily delayed.
'Very much so, yes' he drawled impatiently.
Harry turned on his hells quickly, trying to hide his knowing grin, motioning for the older man to follow him.
Inside the ship was as beautiful and ostensive, as it was incredible on the outside. There were several quarters that served as Hogwarts Express' compartments, and many students were already finding their way in. Magically the ship was enormous, more so than it already looked to be. Remembering what he had read during his school days, Severus realized that Surrey Docks weren't the only port they would stop at. Unlike Hogwarts, that pretty much made all of her students direct themselves to Platform 9 ¾, Durmstrang picked up her students over the Europe.
It was better that way since most of the alumni body wasn't from England anyway.
'Our quarter is the first one...' Potter's voice pierced his musings kindly as they reached the front of the ship.
Admittedly the further they went the older and scarcer were the student's conglomerations. Snape knew that some of them were bound to recognize him, or at least try really hard to know where they had seen him before. His face had graced the Daily Prophet more times than he cared to count since Dumbledore's' – since he left Hogwarts many years before.
'Here...'
Severus stopped at Potter's polite acknowledgement, and found himself before wooden doors, and carved sea monsters, mermaids and Nordic wizards and witches. After a second glance he noticed that the history of Durmstrang's founders had been draw on that hard and dark surface.
Without further ado, the Golden Boy pushed the seemingly heavy doors and mannerly stepped in before he turned and gestured the older man inside. What he saw would have aghast any unprepared visitor but obviously didn't earn anything other than a slightly raised eyebrow from Severus Snape.
The ex-spy took in the impossibly luxurious interior. Silken curtains, Persian rugs and expensive furniture decorated the largest compartment he had ever seen.
'One quarter?' was all he allowed himself to say.
'Yes...' Harry replied as he closed the doors behind them 'Actually it used to be two magically altered quarters... But a former Headmaster had a tad megalomaniac issue and decided to make some modifications...'
The hint to Karkaroff was clear in the sarcastic tone, and Snape's eyebrow rose higher though he was sure to make it go back to it's normal place before Potter got a glimpse of it.
'I see' he drawled unsurprised.
Soon Severus indulged in the younger man's little tour, sneering unconsciously at the thought of the dead Russian Death Eater. Igor had been a joke, even during the Dark Lord's prime time but on his behalf he hadn't been the only one. All of them had joined with the wrong purposes and many had misguided aspirations, Regulus Black being the epitome of the two.
Snape stilled dreamed with Black's younger brother's demise, the way he and other Death Eaters had been ordered to put an end to what their leader – who back then already shouldn't be even named – had called "endless cowardly babble" and " annoying unintelligible whining". That night had been the beginning of the end for Severus, even if at the time he was too blind to recognize the nightmares as they were; unconscious signs of desperation, as his mind tried to gradually warp itself around a truth his heart had known all along.
'It'll only take a couple of hours more than the Express does to get to Hogwarts...' Potter interrupted his thoughts once again, and not unwelcome for a change. Although he probably would never know, not with the frown he was presented with.
'You've got your sea legs?'
Harry saw by the subtle way Snape's eyes widened lightly, his facial muscles completely frozen and his eyelids blinking twice slowly that Severus had started. Potter had no idea of how he had noticed something like that, specially when that reaction only differed from his former professor's detached mask by the slight narrowing of his onyx eyes.
'My what, Potter?' he asked lazily and bored, crossing his arms over his chest.
'Do you get seasick easily?' Harry asked in his kind and solicitous voice, watching as the ex-Death Eater scowled at his polite manners 'Do you have migraine or auras? Claustrophobia perhaps? Even though we'll "sail" underwater these are common reactions, specially in a first trip, and taking in consideration that it is not advisable for us to go to the deck for the matter...'
Severus waved a dismissing hand and turned his back on Potter, walking swiftly to the huge couch at the end of the main room.
'I've got my sea legs just fine, Potter' he interrupted impatiently.
Choosing to ignore the irritation that tone always brought - and that made the hairs on the nape of his neck stand to no end as his magic urged him to an outlet he had long ago learned to breath out – Harry merely nodded thoughtfully with a pleasantly blank expression.
'Good...' he said politely as if he actually cared.
Before Snape could even snort at the tone of his voice, Harry tilted his head the side with a far off look on his face for a few seconds before there was a firm yet apologetic knock on the doors.
'I'll get it...' he said readily.
Severus merely shrugged his broad shoulders as he sat on the couch, making himself comfortable. As he waited, Snape indulged in a talent he had once mastered but that now was considerably out of practice.
So many years among muggles made him deny his senses and acute attention the pleasure of overhearing conversations, something he had sharpened when he was a schoolboy. It was thanks to this natural talent that he avoided many pranks Black and his sycophants planned for him, as well as saving his life more than once both as a willing Death Eater and then as a guilty spy.
He waited as Potter opened the door slowly, greeting whoever was outside with a general greeting. Without any name being mentioned at first, Severus had no other option but to study the muffled words that he could barely hear coming from the still opened doors. It didn't take him long to identify that polite and juvenile voice.
'Prof. Potter...'
'Ernest, hi... Where's Michael?'
Racking his mind after information as the Boy-Who-Lived clearly brought Mr. Hamilton inside their quarter, leading him to where he was, Snape was suddenly reminded that Michael was the boy's older brother and his only relative and family.
He also identified the fondness in Potter's voice and the relaxed way the student talked back to his professor.
'He decided to stay at shore...' Ernest replied readily with a hint of harmless sarcasm in his voice 'He's not feeling very good as it is... He ate some bad seafood last night, while he was trying to make some sort of amusing statement about my sixth-year and personal life in comparison with an octopus and a clownfish...'
Harry allowed himself a rich but subdued laugh that otherwise wouldn't have left his mouth, but that the boy beside him and his exaggerated roll of eyes inspired.
'I see...' he chuckled 'And that backfired...'
'You can say that...' Ernest grinned at his professor, walking confidently beside Potter until he halted his steps and his smile froze on his face 'Oh... Mr. Snape, sir...'
The expression of utter surprise and discomfort, not to mention embarrassment, was more than enough to let Severus know that his presence had been finally acknowledged. Nodding once, he didn't even bother to stand up as the younger men walked closer to where he was.
Potter was seemingly none the wiser about the sudden tension and Hamilton looked like a deer caught on headlights.
'Nice to see you again, young Mr. Hamilton' he drawled tonelessly.
Harry placed a hand over Ernest's shoulder, squeezing it supportively as the boy schooled himself again. He had always marveled at his student's self-control and couldn't help but be intrigued by the way Ernest showed his nervousness when around Snape.
Surely the git was what childhood nightmares were made of, unpleasant as hell and just as nasty, but normally Hamilton had a better hold of his emotions than that. He gathered that it was the fact that the boy had been caught off-guard and in that regard his next squeeze on the adolescent's shoulder was undoubtedly apologetic.
'Nice to see you too, sir...' Ernest replied calmly, his face politely impassive although there was a tinge of pink of his cheeks and neck 'I'm really sorry for barging in, I didn't know you had company, Professor... I will-'
Snape watched as the student turned determinedly, obviously desperate to leave the room and composure himself. But at Potter's immediate frown and the fact that his hand's hadn't left the youngster's shoulder, Severus was sure that young Mr. Hamilton wouldn't get his way out that situation easily.
He bit back a grin when the boy sighed almost imperceptibly but clearly dejectedly.
'Don't be silly, Ernest...' Harry countered, confused by the other's reaction, and placed both his hands over Hamilton's shoulders – effectively positioning the boy in front of him – as he focused his attention on the deceivingly blank eyes that watched the them 'Ernest always accompany me on the trip from and back to Durmstrang... I just don't like to stay here alone and he finds in himself the patience to stand me for more hours than he is forced to...'
Severus only gave another firm nod, watching the way the boy blushed to the roots of his hair in a crimson shade. Apparently what was really happening with his student was unbeknownst to Potter, for he ruffled the younger one's hair lightly and gently pushed him forward and towards the couch Snape was currently sat on.
'As you are here already, Ernest... I will let you know the news first...' he grinned when the boy looked up in earnest at him 'Prof. Snape will be your Potions professor this year...'
That obviously made the boy start. Severus waited for what the silence would bring as in slow motion big, sparkling dark amber eyes locked with his own, showing a thirst and awe that he had rarely seen. Gathering all the emotions he had captured on the boy from their last encounter, Snape was suddenly reminded of Potter's assurance that Ernest Hamilton would provide him all the motivation he needed to take that job.
'Really?' was the childishly anxious question that Ernest couldn't hold back, as well as the pleased widening of his darkening eyes.
'I believe so, Mr. Hamilton' the Potions Master offered noncommittal.
That seemed to be all the information the dark blond youth needed to fit back into his controlled and appraising demeanor, the same stance Snape had witnessed little more than one month before.
'Welcome to Durmstrang, sir.' Ernest supplied calmly, despite of his steely restrained excitement, before he added with a sincerity so pure that could have made Snape curl his lips 'It'll be an honor to be in your classroom this year...'
To Harry's everlasting surprise, the ex-Death Eater didn't respond with his usual cutting sarcasm. Again he noticed that the older man seemed to accept from Ernest Hamilton what he normally would never accept from anyone else, at least not without a sneer or deprecating comeback.
'I hope you will prove your old professor's recommendations, Mr. Hamilton' was all the other drawled with a tiny hint of boredom that could in no way be translated as the dislike and underestimation he had offered to everyone Potter had ever cared about.
Even if they indeed deserved the old man's acknowledgment.
'I have to say I am undoubtedly much more difficult to please.'
'I will make my best, Professor'
Severus saw the set look on Hamilton's face, as well as the impudent – albeit highly impressive – effort the younger one made to hold his gaze. It had been years since he found such spite on someone so young, and it had been even longer since such audacity inspired his attention in a favorable way.
Ever since he had caught a young silver-haired little toddler, trying to conceal himself in shadows at the mere age of 5 only to get a glimpse of him and to, of course, overhear one of his conversations with Lucius Malfoy.
There it was.
There he was again, the same memory, the same wraith that had been haunting him for exact 14 years. The same guilt, the same despicable feeling of failure. It was only when his eyes inadvertedly danced above the face of the boy in front of him, making him get a glimpse of curious and studious green orbs that he berated himself for those milliseconds of vulnerability and was brought back to the matter at hand.
'We'll see about that' he challenged slightly, pinching the tip of his nose with the tip of his thumb and forefinger.
Taking that blank answer as a dismiss, and taking note of – as well as accepting – the challenge offered, Ernest nodded confidently once before he squared his shoulders and turned to his professor again. Harry noticed that the younger man didn't have the nervous look he had had before, although the solemnity he gave to the situation was etched in his amber yes.
'I'll leave you two alone then and look for some of the others...'
The boy didn't let anything show in his voice and eyes but Severus identified that stiffness on his shoulders and the blankness on his face. The youngster looked far too concentrated to do something unimportant such as going out to join his fellow students.
Again Snape was unusually assaulted by a memory that echoed very well with the posture of the adolescent in front of him. This time the reminiscence wasn't of a fair young rich boy but that of a broody and terse young man; too thin, too tall and who had the disconcerting need to push away anyone who came too close.
'Stay Mr. Hamilton.'
The room went silent and it took Severus a while to realize that indeed he had been the one to utter those words.
Harry frowned lightly, staring at his former professor and trying with all his might to comprehend what the older man wasn't letting show. It wasn't the first time that he had been stumped by thing Snape said, did, or refrained himself from doing, but it was only the second time that he was able to mask his reaction.
Waving a bored hand over the couch, the Potions Master showed a hint of sneer before clearing his throat and drawling lazily.
'I'd like to have a full report on what you have learned for the past five years and you are most certainly the choice, for Mr. Potter here might end up mistaking some stages of his scholar duty.'
It was Harry's chuckle that dissipated the tension, made Severus' scowl come back full force and only increased Ernest's confusion. He looked up at the young man he had learned to respect greatly when his hand moved to the back of his head, as it always did when his professor was somewhat relaxed or reassured.
Of course, that didn't keep him from blushing deeply but it was still welcomed.
'He means that you won't lie to him about what I taught you and I will...' Harry grinned unruffled at his student as they moved to the couch.
'I know, sir...' Ernest said carefully, before adding to the darker man with unquenchable honesty 'And I really won't, sir...'
Once the other two were sat, Severus felt a cold and quick tighten of his insides that indicated that Durmstrang's ship was once again submerging as it was it's nature.
Allowing himself to contemplate once again what the bloody hell he was doing, Snape sneered at the smirking face of Harry Potter before focusing all his attention on the eager dark amber eyes of Ernest Hamilton.
'Very well' he grunted.