Something Good
It was about a week after the casting of the dreamwalk spell, and Amelia was sipping a cup of Yorkshire Gold while perusing the entertainment section of The London Times. It was around midmorning, but she was still in her nightshirt, a bright pink affair with the words Clap Your Hands if You Believe in Fairies emblazoned in glittering letters across it. Her feet were encased in a pair of fluffy pink socks, she claimed London was too damp even in May to go about barefoot.
Severus sat opposite her, wearing casual beige slacks and a long-sleeved emerald shirt, nibbling on a second piece of toast and drinking his own cup of tea. "That's a Muggle paper."
"I know. I like to read them sometimes." She turned a page. "Oh, listen to this! The Sound of Music is playing at the theater. I saw it when I was a kid and I loved it."
"Never heard of it."
"Well, it's an American musical. It won tons of awards on Broadway, they even made it into a movie. Why don't we go and see it? I haven't gone to a play in a long time."
"Amelia, I don't like that kind of thing," he rolled his eyes. "All that singing and dancing, ugh!"
"Come on, Sev. It's not all singing and dancing. It's got a real good storyline, about a nun and a naval captain who fall in love in Austria during World War II."
"A nun and a captain? What kind of romantic nonsense is that?" Snape snorted.
"The same kind of 'romantic nonsense' that brought us together, Severus dear." Amelia frowned, shooting him a look over the top of the paper. "They've got a song during the production I really want you to hear. It reminds me of you."
"A Muggle song reminds you of me?" he repeated, utter disbelief flitting over his face.
"Uh-huh. You'll see what I mean when you hear it. You need to get out of the house, before you start to grow mold, spending all your time in your lab, experimenting. It'll be fun."
"It'll be fun, she says. The way shoe shopping is fun? I'd rather be bitten by a werewolf!"
"Oh, quit complaining," she scolded, swatting him on the head with the paper. "Men! You're never happy unless you're grumbling."
"Is that so?" Severus arched an eyebrow. "You women have it down to an art form. It's called nagging, among other things."
"Humor me, Sev. You know what they say—theater broadens the mind."
"That's travel broadens the mind," he corrected, smirking.
"Beg pardon, Professor, sorry I'm not up on all those modern expressions," she said tartly. "We can't all be walking encyclopedias like you. The show starts at two o'clock, and the tickets aren't expensive, about 15 in American money each."
"You really want to see this stupid show?"
"Yes, Potions Master. Like I said, it'll be fun."
"Fine. We can go. Happy now?"
"Over the moon. I love you, Sev," she gave him a kiss.
"The things I do for you," he muttered, then kissed her back.
To his surprise, he actually liked the play, despite all the musical numbers. The story was interesting and so were the characters. He even liked the seven bratty children as the show went on, though the pranks they played on their governess made him shudder.
Is this what I have to look forward to as a teacher? Little beasts putting snakes and
spiders in my desk, pinecones on my chair, and casting annoying hexes on me and all that bloody nonsense? Bloody damn hell! Maybe Dumbledore ought to look for another teacher.
The rest of the play was quite good, however, and he especially liked the scene in the gazebo after Maria returns to Captain Von Trapp. It was a classic love scene, but the song they sang was anything but.
It was called "Something Good" and the words caught his attention immediately.
He sat bolt upright in his seat, the lyrics repeating themselves over and over in his head. Merlin's Beard, she was right. This song—it could have been written for me. For us. He shot her a startled look.
She grinned knowingly and nudged him in the ribs. "What did I tell you? Whoever wrote that song knew someone very like you."
"How disappointing," he drawled. "Here I thought I was unique."
"You are unique, Sev," she whispered in his ear. "There's not another wizard in the world who can do what you can. That's why I love you, impossible man."
He gave her a crooked smile. "You're the amazing one, not me. Now hush, I want to see what happens next, and if we keep talking like this, they're going to throw us out."
The final curtain came down and everyone applauded, even Snape.
"Well? Was it worth three hours of your time?" Amelia asked as they made their way outside.
"I liked it. It was very well done, the actors were first rate," he conceded. "They could have had better sets, but we're dealing with Muggles here, not wizards, so I guess they did the best they could with their limited abilities."
She smacked him lightly on the shoulder. "Quit being such a snob. You're a half-blood yourself, why do you insist on acting like a pureblood bigot? Simply because we're wizards doesn't mean we're the be-all and end-all of creation. We're human too."
"American equality strikes again," he said with a rueful chuckle. "My apologies. I was conditioned as a teenager and sometimes I slip back into my old habits. You're absolutely right. Muggle or wizard, we all share the same earth."
They passed a concession stand selling popcorn, peanuts, and hot dogs.
Amelia sniffed appreciatively. "I'm starving all of a sudden. How about you?"
"I could eat a bit. Where would you like to eat? The Dragon and the George is a decent restaurant," he suggested, naming a popular eating establishment in the wizarding community. "Or do you want me to cook something? I've got a new chili recipe we could try."
"Why don't we eat at a Muggle restaurant?" she offered, a gleam of challenge in her eyes. "Live a little, huh?"
Severus considered. "I don't know. I haven't eaten at a Muggle restaurant since I was a little kid. Back then all we could afford was McDonalds."
"We're not eating McDonalds," she told him firmly. "Fast food's no good for you. I'm talking about food for decent people. Hmmm . . .what's around here?"
She glanced up and down the street, spotting several small cafes, a deli, and a fish and chips bar.
"Not quite what I had in mind. C'mon, let's walk a bit further. They've got to have a good restaurant around here, all those theater types know how to eat well."
"How do you know so much?"
"About theater people? Used to date one awhile back. It didn't work out, he was too obsessed with his career. Thought he was Laurence Olivier reincarnated. But he did teach me about classy restaurants."
In the end they found an Italian place that seemed very popular called Villagios. They ordered iced teas and fried calamari as an appetizer.
"What is this?" Snape wanted to know, sniffing one of the crispy rings.
"Eat it first, then I'll tell you."
He frowned suspiciously. "Is this a joke of some kind?"
"No. It's really good, an Italian specialty," Amelia said, munching on one. "Just eat it, Sev. It won't kill you."
"That's nice to know." He smelled it again. "It smells good." He popped one in his mouth, chewed experimentally. "Hey, this is good." He picked up some more and ate them.
"Try some with marinara sauce," she indicated the bowl next to the calamari.
He did, and liked the taste even better. Amelia watched in amusement as he devoured half the plate.
"Okay. Now tell me, what is this stuff?"
"You sure you want to know?"
"Amelia, you're stalling. I've eaten plenty of strange things, you know. Bertie Botts Every Flavor Beans, for instance."
"Right. It's, uh, squid. Swims in the ocean, you know. That's all. Squid rings dipped in batter and fried." She gave him a searching glance. "You're not going to throw up or anything, are you?"
"No. I thought you were going to say something worse, like worm larvae. Squid, that's not bad at all." To prove his point, he ate another piece.
For dinner they had lasagna and homemade ravioli. The food was very good, though Severus declared, "Your lasagna's better, Amy."
She beamed. "Aww. You're sweet, Sev."
"Me?" Both eyebrows went up. "Only you would use that word to describe me, Amarotti. Sarcastic fits me better, according to popular opinion."
"Who pays attention to popular opinion? Not me. Never have and never will. You're sweet as sugar to me, and that's all I've got to say."
"You make me sound like a candy bar. Severus Sugarplum, or some other revolting name like that," he gave her a pained look. "I beg you, don't ever give me one of those cute nicknames like other girls give their boyfriends."
"You mean, like Sugarbaby?" she teased wickedly. He grimaced. "Or how about Honeypie? Or, even better, Sweetcakes!"
He choked. "Pin any of those awful titles on me, Amelia Angelface, and I'll sing in public and start a riot," he threatened.
"Okay. Okay." She held up her hands in surrender. "Can't you take a joke?" Then she snickered. "Angelface? Sev, that was really bad."
"So was Sweetcakes. That's a name for a fat Pekingnese, not a person."
She began to laugh, chuckling into her napkin.
"What's so funny?"
"You—how did—?" she gasped, unable to form a coherent sentence, she was laughing so hard.
"Amy, for Godsakes!" he hissed out of the corner of his mouth. "People are staring."
"Sorry. I couldn't help myself." She wiped her eyes with a napkin. "But that actually was the name of one of my Aunt Mariel's dogs. She bred teacup poodles."
"Teacup poodles? Sounds like a dessert, not a dog."
"They're called that because they can fit into a teacup. Rich old ladies love them."
"And they give them ridiculous names like Bonbon or Gumdrop, right? It's a wonder the poor dog can hold up its head after being humiliated like that."
"Why Severus, I never knew you were a dog lover."
"I'm not. I hate yappy dogs like that. But even I'd feel sorry for a dog named Petit Four."
"So would I," she signaled the waiter for the check. "Speaking of dogs, what would you say to getting one?"
"I knew this was leading up to something," he groaned.
"You don't like dogs?"
"They're okay. In other people's houses, not mine."
"Didn't you have any pets when you were a kid?"
"My mother was allergic."
"But you're not. Are you?"
"No. As far as I know."
"A dog would be good company for you," she hinted. "Once I'm gone—"
"Whoa! Back up, Amarotti." He held up a hand. "I don't need or want a dog. Period, the end."
"Whyever not?" She handed the waiter some money, including a generous tip.
"Because I like our house just the way it is. Us alone in it. A dog is nothing but trouble."
"How would you know? You've never had one."
"And I don't want one either. They smell, they shed, and they pee all over everything."
"Only till they're housebroken," she argued.
"No dogs, Amarotti." He fixed her with one of his icy glares.
"Don't take that tone with me, Snape," she glared right back at him.
"Then stop being so damn unreasonable." He threw up his hands. "Why are we fighting over a dog we don't even have?"
"That's a woman for you, old chap!" laughed a man over at the next table, nursing a pint of beer. "They'll pick a fight with you over something that ain't even happened yet. If you ask me, the best way to handle Miss Spitfire there is with a good smack."
"I didn't," Snape said coldly, turning his head to shoot a furious glare at the other man.
"Hey, I was just trying to help."
"The day I take advice from a drunken lout like you will be on my deathbed. Mind your own bloody business," he growled.
"Now look here, you snarky git—" the other began, starting to get up from his chair.
Snape pinned him with a glacial glare that froze him in his tracks. "Don't finish that sentence. Just sit down and drink yourself senseless the way you always do," Severus sneered. "Your wife will thank you, I'm sure."
"Wot's that 'bout my wife?"
Snape spun on his heel and turned to leave, ignoring the other's question. "Let's go, Amelia. Before I lose my temper and give the jackass the beating he so richly deserves."
"Good idea," the Dark Hunter agreed. She cast a glance at the inebriated man, who was staring after her boyfriend with hatred in his eyes.
Smothering a sigh, Amelia wriggled her fingers at the large man and hissed a sleep charm. The other slumped over in his chair, to all appearances passed out.
Disaster averted, she hurried after Snape, who was still seething at the man's words to him. "The nerve of that bloody baboon, telling me I ought to hit you! I should go back there and give him a good lesson in manners, the miserable beast. Someone should have beaten him senseless years ago, just like someone ought've my father. They're two of a kind!"
"Severus, calm down. There's no need for you to fly off the handle like this. He didn't do anything to me."
"Lucky for him, otherwise he'd be regretting it for the rest of his life. People like him ought to be locked up in a cell and chained to a wall like a vicious animal, for that's what they are."
He strode angrily down the sidewalk, his hands clenched into white-knuckled fists, his eyes smoldering. Pedestrians took one look at him and scattered.
"Sev! Wait up!"
He slowed, allowing her to catch up with him. "Sorry. But men like that make me want to curse them unto the tenth generation. Either that or truss him like a side of beef and let his wife beat him with a stick. He's just like my father."
She said nothing for the moment, sensing it was better to just let him walk off his temper.
At length, he spoke again. "I suppose you're going to tell me I overreacted. That you're perfectly capable of defending yourself, right?"
She laid a hand on his arm, projecting a wave of serenity at him, since an angry wizard was not a safe thing to be around, even though she knew he'd not unleash his temper on innocent bystanders.
"Not at all. I'd defend you to the death after what we've been through and I'd hope you'd do the same for me." She felt the tension go out of him, the tightness in his shoulders easing by degrees. "That one went looking for trouble, if you ask me, and trouble found him. I'm just sorry he ruined a perfectly good evening."
"Me too. But that stupid row we had didn't help any either," he admitted, tossing his hair out of his eyes. "Forgive me?"
"Always. And that wasn't much of a fight by Amarotti standards. In my house, you could tell a serious argument by volume, doors, and plates." He threw her a blank look. "How many curses in Italian, how many doors got slammed, and plates got broken against a wall," she elaborated.
"Oh." He didn't bother to add that in his house, you could tell a serious argument by the amount of bruises your father left on your mother's face or your own. Especially after he'd been drinking, like that stupid git back there.
I will never be like my father, he vowed silently.
They'd reached the end of the street and turned left down a slightly less inhabited alley. He found himself humming a few notes of that song "Something Good" from the play. He caught Amelia's knowing grin just before he pulled out his wand and tapped it three times against the brick wall.
RAT-A-TAT-TAT-TAT.
The wall folded up silently and they stepped quickly through to the tunnel leading back to Diagon Alley, the shopping district of the wizarding world.
It was fairly quiet this time of night, most of the shopkeepers had closed up and gone home to eat supper with their families. The only illumination was from the street lamps lit with the Lumos spell.
"Shall we Apparate the rest of the way home?" Snape turned to Amelia.
She opened her mouth to reply when there came a sudden sound of glass shattering, followed by a pained yelp, and a shrill voice crying, "There! I think it ran that way!"
"What on earth was that?" Amelia hissed.
"Trouble," Snape answered, and headed toward the sound of running feet, wand out.
As he raced down the street, he noted a rock had broken a window near Eeylop's Owl Emporium, glass crunched under his shoes. He rounded the corner leading to Knockturn Alley, a seedy section of shops catering to illegal magics.
There came a thud, as of a blow striking flesh, another yelp, and more laughter.
"Let's see it again! That Leglock jinx is awesome!" a nasal voice whooped.
"Naw. That's not as good as the one that burned off all the fur on its tail," said another.
"I wanna see it dance again," whined a third voice. "Dance, you mangy cur, dance!"
"Let's set it on fire. Then it'll dance all right!"
Another thud. "Rats! Missed it!"
Livid, Snape shot down the alley, skidding to a halt just behind a circle of three boys. Alongside them were several large trash bins, overflowing with garbage and empty packing crates and other junk. The stench of spoiled food and rotten fruit was overwhelming.
Before them, in a sorry heap on the ground, was a scrawny half- starved black and tan stray dog. Blood flecked its face and paws where rocks had struck it and its tail was singed and red where a blistering hex had burned all the hair away. It lifted its head at
Snape's approach and bared its teeth in token defiance at this new tormentor.
The three delinquent children never even heard him, they were too busy taunting the helpless animal, pelting it with garbage, more rocks, and the oldest pointed a wand at it, a nasty smirk on his face.
"Expelliarmus!"
The little brat's wand was blown out of his hand, flying down the alley, and the boy himself was sent crashing against the wall.
"Ow! Who did that?" he whimpered, rubbing the back of his head.
"I did," Snape said silkily, his voice low with menace. He reached out and grabbed the smaller two by their ears, twisting them hard. The kids yelled loudly and tried to squirm free.
"Ow! Leggo!"
"That hurts, you miserable bugger!"
"Severus, what's going on here?" Amelia appeared at the mouth of Knockturn Alley, hand lifted, the words to a stunning hex on her lips.
The battered dog whimpered pitifully and began to crawl towards her.
"Oh, the poor thing!" She crossed over to the dog and knelt beside it, gathering its head into her lap. The dog whined and licked her hand. "You nasty little brutes!" she snarled, glaring at the boys. "Severus, they were torturing him!"
"We was just having a bit of fun with it, miss!" chortled one of the boys, a greasy tow-headed imp wearing shorts and a Chudley Cannons T-shirt.
"Fun? Like this?" Severus growled, and gave the boy's ear another pinch.
"Yeeow! Stop, you're gonna pull my ear off!"
"It'd be no more than you deserve, you rotten little brat. Does it amuse you then, to beat and abuse a helpless animal? Would you like me to do the same to you, you filthy monstrous brats?" He shook the two sharply, lifting them up by their collars to glare into their pale faces with eyes like burning coals. "Would you?"
"No, sir!" sniffled one, the youngest, a red-headed eight-year- old. "Please, please don't hurt me! I'll never do anything bad again, I swear!" he began to blubber, snot dripping from his nose. Snape sneered at him in disgust.
"If you hurt me, I'll tell my mum and dad!" the other boy blustered.
Snape grinned evilly. "By all means, boy, let's pay a visit to your parents, see what they think of their son roaming the streets at this hour, breaking windows and casting forbidden hexes on defenseless animals. D'you think your mum would be proud of her son when the Aurors come knocking at your door to drag you off to Azkaban?"
"Azkaban!" the boy cried, his bravado vanishing. "I don't wanna go there, the dementors eat your soul! My dad said so. I don't want a dementor to Kiss me!" He began to cry.
"Me neither!" sobbed the youngest.
"He's lying, you stupid idiots!" shouted the oldest. "They don't send kids to Azkaban. He can't do anything to us, he doesn't even know where we live."
"But I do," came an icy voice from behind them. Amelia looked up from cataloging the dog's injuries, her eyes narrowed in concentration.
"The two you're holding are brothers, Jeremy and Thomas Thatcher. They live at 12 Cockleburr Lane, parents Linda and Jeremy Thatcher, Senior," she recited in a cold matter-of-fact tone.
The two brothers stared at her in horror. "H-how she do that? She knows who we are!"
"Shall I go on? Their friend over there is Gerald Tiberius Crouch, nephew of Bartemius Crouch, Senior who works for the Ministry of Magic."
"Crouch, eh?" Snape barked. "Wouldn't your uncle just love it, boy, if he found out you were continuing the family tradition of dark wizardry? Another criminal guaranteed a one-way trip to Azkaban just like your cousin Barty Junior!"
All the blood drained from the gloating twelve-year-old's face. "You can't tell Uncle Barty. He'll kill me! We were only playing. We didn't mean to hurt the dog, it was an accident," he whined.
"Don't lie to me, boy!" Amelia roared. "You meant every nasty cruel word of those hexes and we both know it. You're a spoiled wicked brat who enjoys bullying anything weaker than you. You'll end up in prison just like that cousin of yours if you're not careful. I'm a Dark Hunter, I send criminals like you there all the time." She eyed him coldly. "I can send you there too, if you don't shape up."
Gerald gulped sharply. "No! M-my cousin Barty died there."
"And so will you, the way you're going. Is that what you want, kid? To have a dementor suck out your soul?"
He shook his head frantically. "No! Please! I'm sorry, I'll never hurt anything again. Just don't tell Uncle Barty, please! He'd beat me for sure if he knew I was using magic outside of school."
"As well he should," Snape put in, raking the boy with a withering stare of contempt. "You're a disgrace to your families, all of you. If you were mine I'd horsewhip you till you begged for mercy." He released the Thatcher boys. "Go home, all of you, and pray we don't send an owl in the morning post to your doors. Go on, get! Before I call a dementor."
The three bolted, running as if the dementors were actually at their heels.
Snape trailed them a ways, making sure they weren't lurking in the vicinity. Not that he thought it likely, the boys had been scared good and proper and would probably go hide under their beds until morning. And spend the rest of their summer holidays praying their parents never got a letter informing them about the mischief their
children had been up to that night.
He made a mental note to keep an eye on Gerald Crouch at Hogwarts, for the boy had been the ringleader and he'd been the one casting the hexes on the dog. Yes, he'd watch young Mr. Crouch like a hawk, because torturing animals was one of the first signs of a deviant depraved mind. His cousin had been one of Voldemort's most
fanatical followers. The last thing we need is another Barty Crouch Junior in the making.
He returned to Knockturn Alley, finding Amelia holding the dog in her arms, murmuring softly to it. "He's scared and in shock. We need to get him home."
"You sure about that? He looks all done in. Maybe we should call a Magical Creatures Healer."
"He looks worse than he is. I can heal him up as good as any vet."
"Want me to carry him? He's pretty big, for all he looks like a bag of bones."
"Thanks, but I've got him calmed down enough so he won't bite."
"Right. Let's get on home then," Severus said, and they vanished from the alley, Apparating onto the front porch a few minutes later.
Amelia carried the dog downstairs to Severus' lab, figuring it the best place to administer potions and mix up new ones.
She placed the dog on the Potion Master's stainless steel dissecting table and rolled up her sleeves. "I'm going to treat him for shock, but I need you to mix up a strong sleeping draft and it'd help if you had any burn salve handy."
Snape pointed his wand, and vials and powders started to upend themselves into his cauldron. Soon he had a sleeping draft brewed and decanted into a small glass beaker.
Meanwhile, Amelia had laid her hands on the emaciated dog's chest and murmured a spell to combat shock and dehydration. A blue glow spread from her hands over the dog, causing the fur on his back to stand up.
Severus measured out more ingredients for the burn salve and set it simmering. Then he approached the dog, sleeping draft in hand.
The dog whined and tried to scramble off the table.
"Easy, fellow," Amelia crooned, stroking the dog's head. "Sev won't hurt you, he's got something to make you feel better."
Snape's nose wrinkled. "God, but he stinks! And I think I saw fleas crawling on him."
"What do you expect, he's a stray," Amelia said. "We'll worry about that later."
"Hold him still," Severus ordered, extending a hand towards the dog's muzzle.
The dog snarled softly.
"Let him smell you first." She clasped the dog firmly, pressing him down on the table. "Behave now. Severus is a friend."
The dog sniffed Snape's fingers warily. "Good boy. Talk to him, Sev."
"Nice dog. Swallow this and don't give me a hard time."
Then he moved quickly and caught the dog's head in the crook of his arm.
The animal whined and struggled, his nails scraping across the table. "Be still, damn you!" Snape snapped. He went to grasp the dog's lower jaw and the frightened animal snapped at him.
He jerked his hand away just in time. "Bite me, will you, you ungrateful wretch!"
"Sev, he didn't mean it," Amelia cried. She projected a wave of soothing warmth and calm into the dog's mind. The dog quit struggling. "Okay, he'll be good for you now."
"He'd better. I'm not risking my fingers for some crazy mutt," Snape growled, eyeing the dog balefully. But his hand was gentle as he pried the dog's jaws apart. "Good dog. Now swallow this."
He gently tipped the beaker and let the draft flow down the dog's throat. "Nice and easy. There you go." He carefully massaged the dog's throat, making sure the animal swallowed.
"He should start feeling the effects in a few minutes," Severus said, releasing the dog's head.
The dog shook his head, his tongue coming out to lick his nose. Then he yawned, displaying large fangs. The brown eyes drooped sleepily and he put his head down on the table. In another minute, the stray began to snore softly.
Amelia straightened. "Sleeping like a baby. You're good, Sev."
"Any second year can make up a sleeping draft," the Potions Master shrugged.
"In five minutes, knowing the precise amount to knock out a dog?"
"Well, that's why I'm the Potions Master." He turned back to the cauldron of burn salve, stirring it briefly with a long spoon. "Excellent. Just the right consistency."
He pointed his wand at the cauldron, made a swirling motion and the salve flowed out of the black kettle and into a small earthenware pot.
"Here," he handed the pot to the waiting Amelia. "That should heal up those blisters in a flash. While you're applying that, I'll cast a delousing charm on the mangy animal so we don't all wake up tomorrow with fleas."
Soon they had made the dog as comfortable as possible, putting the animal on a soft blanket. In addition to the burned tail, the dog had various bruises and cuts and was very thin.
"He needs plenty of liquids, beef broth with an egg or some ground beef when he wakes up." Amelia said, studying the sleeping animal.
"He needs a bath and a brushing too. I don't want dog hair all over my lab," Snape muttered, brushing the dog hair off his clothes.
"I'll get to that after he's up and about. I think he'll clean up quite nicely, don't you?"
"Now, don't start getting attached to that fleabag. We're not keeping him. Soon as he's better, off he goes."
"Where? Back to the streets?" she demanded angrily.
"Of course not. Even I'm not that cruel. We'll find him a good home."
"I think he already has a good home."
"No. Absolutely not. I don't like dogs." Snape said firmly.
"All right, dear," Amelia said, humoring him.
The next morning, Amelia woke to find Severus gone. She padded sleepily into the kitchen, expecting to find him making breakfast. But the kitchen was dark.
"Severus?"
"Down here," came the muffled reply.
She went down the stairs to the lab, fully expecting to find him preparing some new elixir. Instead, he was cross-legged on the floor, the dog's head in his lap, patiently spooning broth with an egg in it down the animal's throat.
"I came down to check on him and he seemed hungry," Snape said defensively. "But he was too weak to drink from a bowl, so I had to do it this way."
"So I see." She bent to examine the dog, who thumped his tail weakly. "He looks much better than yesterday."
"He sure doesn't smell better though," Snape mumbled, feeding the dog another spoonful of broth. "As soon as you can stand on your feet, you're getting a real bath," he told the dog. "And by the way, I still don't like dogs, so don't try and act all sweet and innocent with me."
The dog wagged his tail again. Thump. Thump. Then he licked Severus' hand. "Oh, so now you like me, huh? Maybe now you won't bite the hand that feeds you."
Amelia hid a grin, for out of the corner of her eye she saw the wizard's hand creep up to scratch the dog behind his pricked ears.
Doesn't like dogs my eye!
Over the next few days, she caught the Potions Master doing various things for the dog he claimed he'd never wanted. Severus was the one who woke up first in the morning and took the dog out for a walk. "Well, someone has to," he grumbled when she commented on it, pretending not to see the brand new leather leash and collar hanging on a hook next to their coats. She'd also caught him feeding the dog scraps from their meals. "He's too thin. Look at his ribs." Or cooking him ground beef mixed
with rice and cheese. "That Muggle dog food's no good. He won't touch it."
"Of course not. He's not dumb, why would he eat dry dog food when he can get fresh ground beef?" Amelia laughed.
"You were the one who told me to feed him that."
"Not for every meal. Just in the beginning."
"What did you want me to do, watch him starve?" Snape countered. "If he dies, there goes five Galleons of wasted potion ingredients."
"Uh-huh. That's why you spent three hours yesterday giving him a bath and grooming him."
"He smelled and you know I can't abide the smell of dogs." Snape pointed out. "Besides, now he doesn't look so scruffy."
He indicated the dog, who was lying on the rug near his foot. The dog had begun to fill out some due to regular food and his freshly washed coat gleamed inky black save for tan on his legs, around his eyes and the tip of his tail. The hair on his tail had now grown back, thanks to Snape's potion, and was a silky bush.
Amelia studied him thoughtfully. "I'd say he's a mix between a shepherd and a collie. He's got the shepherd ears and coloring and the size, but the collie fur and disposition. If I had to venture a guess, I'd say he'll be about ninety pounds or so when he fills out. A good- sized dog. If he hadn't been so starved, he'd have taken those three brats easily."
Snape's eyes narrowed at the mention of the three boys. "Sneaking little cowards. I can't wait till I have that wretch Gerald Crouch in my class. If he puts one toe out of line, I'll slap him with a detention so fast he won't know what hit him."
"You'd take points from your own House?"
"Not if I can't help it. But in his case, I'll gladly make an exception." Severus said in distaste. "There's something wrong with a kid that likes to hurt animals like that. He's got the makings of a serial killer or a Death Eater, come to think of it."
"I'd have to agree with you," Amelia nodded, kneeling to pet the dog. "You'll need to watch that one, Sev."
"Oh, I will. Believe me." He fished something that looked suspiciously like a dog biscuit out of his pocket and tossed it to the shepherd-collie. "Catch!"
The dog was on his feet in a flash, and the treat was snatched out of midair and devoured in a twinkling.
"Did you see that? Moves as quick as lightning. And smart too, I just taught him that trick yesterday. He's brighter than half the children I'll be teaching, aren't you, boy?"
The dog wagged his plumed tail and woofed in agreement. Then he nudged the wizard's hand until Snape rubbed his ears.
"Dog tricks, Sev? Who was it that said not to get attached to him, hmmm?"
"I'm not attached to him," Severus argued, still petting the black ears. "But people will be more likely to want him if he's well- mannered."
"Then you've had an offer for him?"
"No," he said quickly. "I mean, I haven't asked anyone yet," the Potions Master hedged. "I'm going to, next week. He'll, uh, look better then and I'll have more time to work on obedience."
"You know what I think?" Amelia said slowly, smiling smugly. "I think you like that dog but are too afraid to admit it, Severus Snape."
"Don't be ridiculous, Amarotti. That dog's nothing but trouble. He almost bit my hand off, he eats like a horse, sheds like a polar bear, and he snores. Not to mention the fact that yesterday his blasted tail knocked over a whole shelf of my glass bottles. And he chewed my slippers too."
"What was he doing in your lab?"
"I let him in because he was whining at the door. It was distracting me and I couldn't spare the time to put a silencing charm on him, so I opened the door instead." Snape admitted. "And look how he repaid me." He shook a finger at the dog. "You are a menace, you know that? Destruction on four legs. You're a worthless fleabag and the
sooner you're out of here, the better. I should just open the door and let you go play in the street."
The dog whined softly, tilting his head to the side and giving the Potions Master a pleading look from huge brown eyes.
"Don't give me that pathetic look. It won't work on me. I don't like you. First chance I get, I'm giving you away, then you can wreck someone else's house. I mean it. Now quit looking at me like that."
"I'll believe it when I see it," Amelia hooted.
"You'll see it. I'll be putting up signs tomorrow."
The dog flopped over on his back, all four feet waving ludicrously in the air.
Snape looked down his long nose at the grinning canine. "What now? Can you believe this? The insolent puppy thinks I'm going to drop everything and rub his belly for him. Ha!" he picked up the book he'd been reading and buried his nose in it.
"I'm going to get some tea. Want some?"
"Sure." He didn't look up from his book.
Amelia slipped out of the room, ostensibly to make tea. She peeked quickly around the doorframe.
Severus was still reading, pointedly ignoring the wriggling dog by his feet, who had managed to move directly under the toe of Snape's shoe.
Very slowly, the wizard's foot moved, back and forth, rubbing the dog's belly. The dog sighed in bliss and Amelia bit her lip to keep from laughing.
Every morning for a week Amelia would ask when the dog would be given away. "Found him a home yet, Sev?"
The answers were varied, but evasive.
"Later, I'm too busy right now."
"As soon as I finish this next paragraph, I'll ask the neighbors."
"Tomorrow, the dog goes."
Every evening the dog would still be there, lying on the rug.
By the end of three weeks, Amelia couldn't resist saying, "You know, Sev, if you haven't found a home for the dog by now, he really needs a name. We can't keep calling him "boy"."
"What would you suggest?"
"How about Blackie?"
"Too common."
"Midnight?"
"He's not pure black."
"Vagabond?"
"Don't like it." He snapped his fingers. "Maverick, that's what we'll call him," Snape said decisively. "It sounds better than Vagabond."
"I like it. A maverick's a wanderer and a rebel. He wandered into our lives and he beat all the odds. He even won you over, Sev."
"What are you babbling about?"
"Come on, Snape, admit it. The dog's not going anywhere, not today or any other day. Because you can't bear to give him up. Maverick's here to stay."
The Potions Master scowled, not meeting her eyes. "I . . .ah, hell, I guess I can put up with him."
Maverick barked, then jumped up to plant both paws on Snape's shoulders and lick his entire face.
"Ugh! Get down, you walking carpet! Just because I said you could stay does not mean you can walk all over me, you crazy beast!" He shoved the big dog off him, wiping his face with his sleeve, concealing a grin as he did so.
"Thought you didn't like dogs."
"I don't. Except this one. Sometimes," Snape admitted grudgingly. Then he knelt to scratch his dog under the chin.
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