Chapter Seven
Shacklebolt dropped a thick file upon the interrogation room table.
"Tell me, Severus, how exactly am I supposed to not arrest you?" With unsteady hands, he pulled the area signature scan from the folder. Severus watched the other man and leaned back lazily in his stiff chair.
Shacklebolt pointed out the tell tale spikes on the line chart of the scan. Severus noticed the other man's hands were shaking minutely. He remained silent and instead watched the man's face; something was off with the auror.
"Now's the time where you explain just what the hell – other than pulsing – could cause these spikes," Shacklebolt prompted expectantly.
Severus remained silent, face blanked of any explanations. Shacklebolt's brow drew downward with every passing moment, the lines of anger harshly marking his usually smooth brow.
"Sometime today, Severus," the auror started tapping his wand upon his free hand in agitation.
Severus leaned forward, posture still relaxed and folded his hands before him atop the table. He tilted his head as he regarded the scan. "I did," he met the auror's eyes, "what I had to to protect Mr. Potter." He calmly brushed some imaginary lint from his sleeve. "Surely you cannot find faults with aiding the great Harry Potter.
"And if you can, know that I've no doubt today was not an isolated incident. The boy will be a target once again." Severus watched as the storm settled over Shacklebolt's face. "Where is he, anyway? Incarcerating the Boy Who Lived and Lived, as well?" Severus flippantly asked.
"No, just ex-Death Eaters," Shacklebolt shot back. "You see nothing wrong with being identified as the one who was practicing dark, illegal magic in broad daylight, in full view of witnesses?" The auror nervously wet his lips.
Severus smirked and leaned backward in return. Gauging out how far and how quickly the usually calm and genial man's odd behavior would carry him.
For his part, Shacklebolt looked as far from pleased as a hairless cat left out in the sun. He pulled out the chair opposite Severus and sat. "Let me make something painfully, excruciatingly clear, Severus. The only reason you aren't being charged is due to the respect I hold for you as a fellow Order member."
"Nothing to do with the fact that you have no proof the man lying in your morgue wasn't the one practicing," Severus added.
Shacklebolt rubbed his brow, massaging the tense muscles as if the mere mention of the Order had tripled his anxiety. "This is the second time the scans have produced these results in very recent history. The second time you were conveniently nearby when they did. I was able to keep your father's disappearance low profile, but these similarities are going to raise more than a few eyebrows." He paused, regarding Severus from beneath his brow, "They will likely charge you with those other three wizard's deaths."
Severus' smirk vanished his own brow furrowing; he leaned forward. "I had nothing to do with that," he darkly reminded the auror. "I had nothing to do with any of your crimes. Where is Potter?" He was beginning to distrust the sanity of the man before him and didn't like not knowing where the young wizard was in light of it.
"And I believe you," Shacklebolt assured, ignoring the question of Harry. "But I'd be one of few. You have made a lot of enemies over the years."
"And despite my natural inclination to do otherwise, I have never considered you one of them," Severus thought it best to remind Shacklebolt that though Severus had never acknowledged any kindness on the auror's part, that didn't mean they were on opposite sides of the table. Except for literally at that moment, that is.
Shacklebolt tilted his head, but the gesture was hardly friendly, "Could've fooled me.
"But that point is meaningless, now. You have the unfortunate displeasure of being on Minister Heller's hit list."
"What's the glorified pigeon have to do with this?" Severus questioned as that stone was dropped, his lax posture draining away to make room for a whole other level of insanity in the small exam room.
"He's at the top of my food chain." Shacklebolt regarded an area just past Severus' shoulder, "Funny thing is, I used to be honorable before I met you lot. Always did right by everyone whenever I could.
"Only now, the choice isn't between right or wrong. It is either wrong by you," his dark eyes shifted to Severus', "or wrong by me."
Severus eyes narrowed, "What do you want, Shacklebolt? What will it take for you to deliver me my charge and allow us to leave?"
"Heller wants your cooperation in an investigation of the Headmaster's actions, particularly regarding the end of term last year."
Severus felt his lip twitch in a snarl, "You would betray the Headmaster, the leader of the Order, the man to whom you swore an oath?" He couldn't believe that there was this big conspiracy brewing in the ministry against Dumbledore. He'd been under the impression the apprenticeship arrangements were the Headmaster's punishment from the ministry on that matter.
"And you would ask me to betray him as well?" Severus scoffed, "You truly aren't the man I thought you were." Severus' lip curled in distaste, "I thought you better than to try blackmail."
The auror straightened in his seat, his jaw grinding in frustration. "Can't you see? This isn't about what I want. I have no choice!"
Severus slammed his palm open faced on the table, "There is always a choice!"
Both men stared at the other, breath coming in heaves as neither would submit and look away. Severus searched the other man's eyes for a remnant of the true Kinglsey Shacklebolt, the man who would never consider betraying Albus Dumbledore or the Order of the Phoenix.
Shacklebolt folded first, looking away from Severus' piercing gaze; he ran a palm over his shaved head. "I want your complete assistance with your father's investigation. I want you to aid the Minister." He leaned forward in an awkward attempt at menace as Heller, just like the mentioning of the Order, induced a fresh round of tension clearly visible on the dark man's visage; the fragile patience Shacklebolt had regained shattering in the face of the still searching potion master, "I want you to keep that large nose of yours out of my investigations."
Severus laughed bitterly, finding an iota of sick amusement at the auror's psychological condition and realizing the personal attack for what it was, an attempt to goad him into cooperation, "You'll have spent a decade beneath the earth before I ever become a lapdog for your Minister.
"And do please inform me," Severus continued, "as to how I can both assist you in your search for my father as well as keep my finely distinguished proboscis out of your affairs?" He tapped the side of his nose with a single fingertip.
Shacklebolt stood abruptly, towering over the still seated man, "So, you don't want to do things the nice way, fine by me, we'll keep this strictly transactional. I'll even spell it out for you so that you can see you don't have any more of a choice than I do." He jabbed his finger in exclamation onto the cleared table.
He drifted off, a calm spreading over his features as he regarded the scans, lightly caressing them with his fingertips. For the first time, Severus became frighteningly unnerved by Shacklebolt's behavior. A mad but logical enough for appearances' sake auror he could handle; he didn't like his chances with one who'd gone completely around the bend. "Those are the only copies as of yet. No one else has seen them aside from Heller, you, and I, and these questions have not been monitored."
"I have less idea as to what you are talking about now than usual." He leaned backward in disgust. Refusing to let the twisted auror think he was backing him in a corner.
Shacklebolt let the insult slide. He reached once more for the folder, flipping the pages with practiced ease, the calm having stretched into every fiber of his being. "Fascinating people, Muggles. They use technology and science to overcome the obstacles lacking magic has foisted upon them."
Severus raised an eyebrow. "I assume at some point you will reach a relevant meaning." He waved his hand to the side as a gesture, knocking the file to the floor accidentally on purpose. Severus made no move to pick the papers up.
Shacklebolt glared at the other man and reluctantly retrieved his file, trying to shift everything back into a semblance of order.
"Muggle hospital records," he held a long sheet of paper up by way of explanation, returning to his seat in the process. "I know your father wasn't carried out of the hospital. He walked out on his own two feet, but someone had to have been there to help him."
"I was there when you showed. Why would I have returned to the scene?" Severus argued.
"For exactly that reason, to throw us off your trail. Who else would want your father?"
Severus' mind relaxed slightly in the face of Shacklebolt's fishing. Mad or not, fishing for information meant the aurors hadn't yet enough to really hold him, all he had to do was get out and to Dumbledore in one piece and then they could figure out what was wrong with their auror associate. "If I wanted him removed from the hospital, there were plenty of official channels to accomplish it. There would have been no need to create a trail to throw you off of. There are too many troll-sized holes in your theory to fall into; you can't pin those wizards on me."
"I can't," Shacklebolt admitted, a slightly crazed look in his eyes, "But Heller can. And he will, if you do not cooperate."
They entered another stare off; this one remained until a knock at the door startled them both. Shacklebolt stood and waved his wand over the confirmation latch.
Minister Heller was the first to enter, causing a wave of noxious apprehension to rush over Severus, completely unnoticeable to any casual observer. The second entrant was the Headmaster, however, and the wave subsided. Severus watched as Heller inconspicuously pressed a hand firmly upon Shacklebolt's shoulder; the element of madness left the auror's eyes, and he was left looking slightly confused by his surroundings.
"Ah, gentlemen, how are things going?" Dumbledore asked, pointedly ignoring the stretched atmosphere.
"Fine Headmaster," Severus bit out, standing from the interrogation chair. "Kinglsey was just telling me he had all he needed from me for this interview." He nodded to the auror convincingly. Shacklebolt blinked but nodded in affirmation.
"Good, good." The Headmaster turned to the Minister, "And you were worried, Oramando."
"All he needed?" Heller questioned incredulously. "What of," he grabbed the file and flipped through hurriedly, reaching the end quickly. He looked up to the three wizards and flipped through the file once again. He regarded the two wizards and nodded at Shacklebolt who didn't seem to know how to respond. "Well," he declared, a brow risen in Severus' direction, "I suppose everything has been taken care of. Mr. Potter is in the medical examination room; seems he took a bit of a hit to the head in all of the commotion. You might as well be on your way to see to the lad."
"Perhaps Auror Shacklebolt could escort us?" Severus requested, needing to have left the building before the Minister got the auror alone. In a stroke of luck he couldn't have dreamt for, the Minister's lifting of whatever overt control he'd been exercising over Shacklebolt had left the man in a bit of a trance. No doubt, Heller believed the absence of the scans meant Severus was going along with their scheme, the moment he got Shacklebolt alone to obtain the other man's version of events he would realize otherwise. Severus needed above all else to have destroyed the incriminating scans before then.
-~PULSE~-
The ride down to medical ward was thankfully silent. The Headmaster seemed reluctant to speak freely within the auror department, and Shacklebolt was still confused by the gaps in his memory. Severus wisely remained quiet, his hand itching for the soothing presence of his wand as the paper's he'd lifted burned a whole in his pocket. The lift opened on the correct floor and the Headmaster strode directly to Harry. Shacklebolt grabbed Severus' arm on the way out.
"Are we alright, Severus?" he asked, the murky waters visible behind his eyes.
"As much as we ever are, I suppose," Severus offered.
Shacklebolt shook his head and leaned in close, "Something doesn't seem right, I can't really remember what happened just a few moments ago. It's like I can see it, but everything is playing on fast forward. I thought it best not to mention it to Heller until I had a chance to speak to you."
Severus wanted to take pity on the bewitched man knew his safety couldn't afford it. He jerked his arm from the auror's grasp. "Maybe next time you'll not waste either of our afternoons by bringing me in for questions you aren't even going to do the courtesy of remembering." He made a point of angrily turning away from the other man. He stopped abruptly, three steps from the auror. Severus faced Shacklebolt once more, "I suggest you avoid meeting with Heller one on one and instead get with the Headmaster, away from this place." Severus nodded once and turned yet again.
Shacklebolt grasped Severus' bicep once more and sighed heavily, "Never forget that when comes down to it, we are friends." Severus couldn't hold back his snort. "I want to help you, Severus."
Severus eyed Shacklebolt sharply, "It isn't what you want that's bothering me." He left the other man to linger in the entryway.
Dumbledore, while conversing with Harry, watched the two men from across the room, a look of befuddlement hidden masterfully upon his old face. Severus, having been in close contact with the man for most of his own adult life, knew he would have to explain his interview later; a fact that he was not dreading for once since it might allow him some clarity on the subject, as well. It was with mixed emotions that he approached his apprentice's bed.
He turned his attention to the young wizard. The boy had been banged up during the altercation, but looked well enough to simply visit Madame Pomfrey as opposed to St. Mungo's. The on-sight medi-wizard had set to knitting most of the open cuts, cleaned up the scratches, and had bandaged Harry's arm wand arm. Severus hoped they hadn't looked too deeply into the boy's injuries lest the potion master find himself in the middle of yet another inquiry.
Technically speaking, allowing wizards who had not yet graduated to practice wandless magic to any serious extent, such as a patronus charm, was frowned upon. It was not illegal, but Severus did not need any more excuses for Heller to target him.
"Well, Potter," he began, voice gruff as his aggravation with Shacklebolt bled into his tone, "have you had your fill of auror worshipers or do you wish to bask here for the night?"
Harry frowned but refrained from arguing with the man in the middle of the auror medical room.
"I'm fine, sir," Harry assured. He scratched at his bandages only to have his wrist seized by his master. He gaze sharply met Severus'.
"Do not bother those until Madame Pomfrey has a chance to look at them," he ordered.
Harry grimaced but nodded all the same and rolled his legs over the side of the bed nearest Severus, not wanting to place the man at his back. He stood and immediately felt his world shift sideways. A firm hand grabbed his elbow and kept him upright. He stared at the floor and watched the ground and Severus' shoes move across his field of vision with one another. He looked up to his master's face, distractedly thinking the man wasn't sneering like he expected. For a moment, he appeared almost concerned. Harry straightened and then shook off the steadying hand.
The expected sneer formed. "Looking for attention, Potter?" he demanded. "You said you were fine." The older wizard retrieved the boy's chart from the end of the bed and flipped through the pages. Harry set to re-donning his shoes mumbling to himself about bipolar instructors, while the Headmaster and the Potions professor read the notes.
"You got yourself a nasty bump there, Harry," the Headmaster commented. "Are you up to flooing?" he asked. "If not, we can always travel by ground."
"He'll be fine," Severus asserted, panicking at the thought of a train ride with the headmaster as well as seeing that the head injury was minimal enough to not be at risk of exacerbation by floo.
"Harry?" Dumbledore looked for Harry's agreement.
Harry stood from the bed and shifted up and down on his feet, his vision staying in place the whole time. "I think I'm good, sir."
"Mr. Shacklebolt," Dumbledore called, "You will do us the pleasure of escorting us to the floo station?"
"Of course, Headmaster," Shacklebolt assured, straightening from the wall he'd taken to leaning against whilst he waited to bring them to the exit of the aurory. He approached the trio while they headed towards him and the lift. "So our young Mr. Potter is doing just fine, yes?"
"Yes, sir," Harry answered. He supposed it must have been since Severus had dealt with the attack mostly by himself, but he noticed his reluctant master seemed to have become worse for wear during their not-so-speedy time at the aurory. Granted, all Harry really did was wait in a bed while Severus was interviewed, but he wondered if Snape's declined demeanor was solely because of the questions.
They entered into the elevator alongside several other occupants, making for a tight and silent ride down to the main floor. The Hogwarts residents said good bye to their escort and entered the main floo.
Severus smiled wryly at Dumbledore and threw the powder to the floor. "Hogwarts, Headmaster's Office!"
~=PULSE=~
The wizard was blown once again flat on his back. He watched the hand-painted ceiling's figurines sway to and throw as he tried to recapture his breath.
"Honestly," his teacher spat with venom, "You would think you would have accomplished something by now!" The frustrated teacher with his shortly cropped hair and furious gate paced the furniture-less room. When he spoke, his voice echoed off the walls, testifying to the lack of objects.
The student, for one, was grateful the obstructions had been moved beforehand. It was bad enough he'd been slammed against the walls and doors, he hated the idea of his body being hurled at the edge of an antique coffee table or into an heirloom vase.
Tobias Snape charged at the blond wizard, easily lifting the man from the floor and tossing him against the wall with restrained force.
"For all your posturing about blood purity, you sure aren't taking to this subject well," Tobias growled. Over the few days since his release, he had regained his lost energy. His body was still not as strong as it had been pre-coma but he was well enough to be menacing to the blond wizard before him.
Lucius straightened his spine and rolled his shoulders roughly, itching for the familiar wood of his wand. He'd made the agreement to place his wand elsewhere during their lessons, and although wandless magic was not completely out of his range of abilities, he didn't have much aptitude for it. Either way, he knew killing the glorified muggle before he was able to learn his trade did not fit in the plan, so he swallowed the lump that was his pride for the moment and practiced several calming breaths before trying to speak to the eldest Snape.
"I can't believe it was easy for you to learn this your first go round," Lucius ventured. "Perhaps you could practice a little restraint and not pummel me every single chance you get," he bit out through grinding teeth.
His teacher merely heaved in response.
"How long did it take Severus to learn?" Lucius demanded in a tone he refused to identify as petulant.
Tobias smirked and replied with a dry response, "He surpassed your current progress within the first hour."
And they'd been at it for seven.
The man's instruction left much to be desired, according to the wizard.
The wizard's intellect was likewise for the man.
He thought perhaps he'd been spoiled by his wife and son; all the wizards he'd ever been in close contact with were, to put it bluntly since Lucius Malfoy in fact was not, smart.
"Again!" he ordered. Lucius walked away from the wall, to the center of the room where they'd placed a large training mat. "Remember," Tobias chastised, circling his student, "You must feel the energy around you and capture it.
"We aren't meditating; it is not enough to just be aware of the forces all around us." He stopped to stand directly before the rich wizard, "You must discover how to master it as it flows into you and through your veins." He looked off to the side, Lucius looked just as dim as he had before their last go. "After that, all you need is to expel the energy from you at your will," he finished. "I understand the process is much like when you wizards channel your magic through a wand." Tobias rubbed his temples in frustration. "Think of your hand as the wand," he tried, wishing his son was there for the least of reasons being as a wizard, Severus might could teach Lucius Malfoy how to pulse.
"Alright," Tobias took in a deep breath. "Like before, I'll throw a soft pulse to you. All you need do is accept it into you, hold it for a short moment, and then let it release naturally."
Tobias planted his feet shoulder width apart, his front steadied and forward facing to Lucius. Goosebumps rose upon his hairy arms as he pushed his palms together against and unseen force. His heart beat accelerated slightly, and the room became softly cooler. He gently flicked his wrists.
Lucius felt the force slam into him like a brick wall. The carpet slipped beneath his feet, inserting itself beneath his head. Within the split second, his breath left his body, his heart lunged forward. He fought, once again, to regain his breath.
Tobias' displeased face came into view over him.
"Well, that proves that theory," Tobias declared.
Lucius frowned. "What theory?"
Tobias analyzed his fingernails nonchalantly, "Hair length has absolutely no correlation to talent." He stood and walked to the double doors. "Notify me when you are ready to really put forth some real effort."
Lucius, in a fit of most uncharacteristic behavior for the bigot of a wizard, rolled his eyes and screamed silently. The Dark Lord had better appreciate the hell he was going through for him.