Author's Note:
Thanks again for your patience and reviews…please keep them coming! This chapter contains two references to
other performances related to the Harry Potter cast—one for Alan Rickman, and
one for Richard Harris. Can you spot
them?
Happy Reading!
**********************************************************************************
Chapter 19: Best Laid Plans
I want somebody
to share
Share
the rest
of my life
Share
my innermost
thoughts
Know
my intimate
details
Someone
who'll
stand
by my side
And give
me support
And in return
She'll
get my support
She will
listen
to me
When
I want
to speak
About
the world
we live
in
And life
in general
Though
my views
may be wrong
They may even
be perverted
She'll
hear
me out
And won't
easily
be converted
To my way of thinking
In fact
she'll
often
disagree
But at the end of it all
She will
understand
me
I want
somebody
who cares
For me passionately
With
every
thought
and
With
every
breath
Someone
who'll
help
me see things
In a different
light
All the things
I detest
I will
almost
like
I don't
want
to be tied
To anyone's
strings
I'm carefully
trying
to steer
clear
of
Those
things
But when I'm asleep
I want
somebody
Who will
put their arms
around
me
And kiss
me tenderly
Though
things
like
this
Make
me sick
In a case
like
this
I'll
get away
with
it
--Depeche Mode
*************************************
Snape had had precious little time between his last class and dinner to prepare his package for Adelaide. Of course, no one could clear a classroom like he could, and, once the last of his students had vacated the Potions Lab in record time, he smirked to himself, noting that it had been quite a while since he'd seen fifth-years scurry out with such a desperate look of raw panic in their eyes.
As soon as the room was empty, he had summoned Dobby, who was promptly dispatched to the kitchens with an assignment. Snape retrieved some of his finest stationery from a black leather box in his office, then sat down at his desk to write a note for Addy, while waiting for the House Elf's return.
'Hmmmm…what to say,' he puzzled as he looked at the tauntingly blank card, placing his palms together and pressing the edge of his forefingers against his pursed lips, his thumbs crossed beneath his chin.
'Something brief, yet intriguing…just enough to pique the curiosity, without seeming maudlin,' he mused. Finally, he came up with a few words that, in his mind, struck a perfectly inviting balance.
When Dobby returned with Snape's request wrapped in tissue paper, Snape placed it gently inside a green velvet box lined in creamy white satin, and then delicately set the note card on top. He looked at the present and frowned. Tilting his head to the left, he readjusted the position of the card. Then he did the same thing, this time tilting his head to the right, and again, back to the left. He fidgeted with the tissue paper and repositioned the card several more times before he noticed a slack-jawed Dobby staring at him as though he had three heads.
"What?" he snapped at the House Elf.
"N…n…nothing, Sir" stammered Dobby, motionless with shock.
Snape scowled and slammed the hinged lid down on the box, still glowering at Dobby. Then, with an air of extreme nonchalance, as though this was something he did every day, he reached into a desk drawer and pulled out four green and silver ribbons, never taking his gaze from the quivering elf in front of him who was trying to keep his already wide eyes from popping out of his head.
With long, graceful fingers, Snape gathered the ribbons around the box, and whipped them into an amiable bow with a swish of his wand. One more enchantment would cause the ribbons to gesture appropriately—a special touch with which he was particularly pleased. Then he cast a final spell to burn his initials in silver into the top of the box with the tip of his wand.
Balancing the box on the tips of his fingertips, he looked at his package approvingly, a bit surprised at himself. It had been a long, long time since he had made even the slightest attempt at anything of the sort, and back then he had been an oblivious, senseless, infatuated boy. He'd had his heart duly stomped on, and had kept it well protected ever since. Severus Snape had always been a quick learner, but he had perhaps learned some lessons too well, and just maybe the time had come for him to unlearn a thing or two.
But, he had to admit, the package looked good. There was no way Addy would be able to resist it, and once she opened it, he felt sure that her curiosity would draw her straight to him.
Snape intended to return to his classroom immediately following dinner in the Dining Hall. According to his plan, Addy would appear at his door shortly thereafter--looking quizzically lovely—perhaps holding the card in one hand, a charmingly puzzled expression across her face. "There's something you want to explain to me?" she'd ask. He lightly touched the long scroll of parchment sitting on his desk. It contained the formal explication and apology he'd been up all night writing.
*************************************
Back in her chambers, Addy had come to the conclusion that Snape wouldn't dare try to pull anything that was outright dangerous, not under Dumbledore's roof anyway, and she was silently grateful for the Headmaster's implicit protection. Still, she reasoned, just because this strange little package, with its bows waving cheekily at her, appeared to be from Snape, that didn't necessarily mean it was. Appearances could lie. For example, Snape himself had appeared to be her friend, hadn't he, just before whirling round and raking her over the coals for being a Death Eater. Yes, appearances weren't always what they seemed, and things could change in a heartbeat.
She approached the package with caution.
At the slightest tug, the beckoning ribbons sprang from the box with a life of their own, causing Addy to scoot backwards reflexively. From her crouched position, wand at the ready, she watched the hinged lid of the box open slowly of its own accord, creaking enticingly as it revealed it's satin interior. And then…nothing.
She took a halting step towards it, and then another, until she was once again peering directly down into the box. A folded note card rested neatly on top of something that was loosely wrapped in tissue paper. The card bore the same initials as the box, embossed in silver.
Addy picked up the note and opened it. Inside were three words, written in precise handwriting:
"Let me explain".
Then, as Addy held the card in her hands, a fourth word shimmered into view beneath the others:
"Please."
Addy bit her lower lip in dubious reflection…was that a special request, or an afterthought?
As if in answer to her unspoken question, the word "Please" suddenly underlined itself.
The note relieved some of her anxiety about the nature of the package, but--still wary--she poked at the tissue paper with her wand. There was definitely something small and solid wrapped inside. A faint smell wafted up from the box—the card had smelled of leather, but the object inside had an odor she recognized, but could not put her finger on.
She parted the tissue paper carefully to finally reveal Snape's little present. An angry, puzzled frown spread slowly across her face as she stared down into the box. In disbelief, she reached in and, holding the item gingerly between thumb and forefinger, plucked out a single, slightly greasy, still warm, broiled lamb chop.
"What in the name of Joan…" she said aloud, squinting at the piece of meat. "Explain INDEED!"
She slowly twirled it in her fingers to view it from all sides…lifted it to her nose to smell it… poked at it. By all accounts, it seemed to be a perfectly ordinary, everyday lamb chop. She started to pace.
Why on earth had Snape sent it to her? What could it possibly mean?
"I see," she thought to herself, holding the lamb chop at arm's length, still clutched between two fingers. "He sends me some sort of obscure message disguised as an entree, with a three-and-a-half-word note, and I'm supposed to go trotting down to his dungeons like a supplicant, begging him to enlighten me to the bizarre inner workings of his twisted mind. Well I'm sorry, Professor Snape," she continued, thrusting the lamb chop into his imagined face, " I'm not interested in your little games!"
She continued to pace, keen to figure out the hidden meaning of Snape's token on her own, so that she could throw it in his face…both literally and figuratively. But she came up with nothing.
'Forget about it, Adelaide" she eventually told herself. 'And forget about him. If Professor Snape has something he'd like to say to you, he can come calling like a normal person. He knows where you live. Just forget about him and his stupid…cryptic…infuriating lamb chop! You've got work to do."
With a determined nod to herself, she dropped the lamb chop back into the box, closed the lid with a definitive flourish, slammed it down on the table in her lounge, and dramatically wiped her hands against one another. She'd visit Hagrid tomorrow and bring it as a treat for Fang. Then she picked up the green and silver ribbons and spent several seconds crumpling them into teensy, tiny balls, muttering to herself, before hurling them into the wastebasket.
Next, Adelaide sat down at her desk with her back to the box, and, with exaggerated casualness, opened her notes from the previous night's strategy session. She had planned on refining her crudely drawn map of the site where Voldemort intended to blow up the London Underground. She opened her bottle of ink…and immediately spilled a large stain on her robe.
"Aaaarrrrgh!" she cried, as she stood to remove the garment and perform yet another cleaning spell. "Why do I even bother?!?"
With that, Addy needed a drink. All the lovely tipsiness she'd accrued during dinner had abandoned her. The meal itself felt like it had been days earlier, not less than an hour. How could one day go so far downhill so quickly?
She went to the small bar with which her room had been stocked and, for the first time, inspected the bottles that had been set there for her use. She picked out an aromatic, garnet-colored, orange-blossom cognac and poured herself a snifter, taking it back to her desk. On her way back, she glanced down at the velvet box on her table. The lid was raised. She could swear that she had closed it. She slammed it shut (again), exclaiming, "Stupid lamb chop!" before reinstating herself at her desk.
She took a large sip of cognac and pulled out the tea-stained sketch that she had drawn the previous night in Snape's office. Addy sucked on the end of her quill, trying to concentrate on her work. But the stains on the map reminded her of his rough hands caressing her face…the rhythmic stroking of his thumbs in her upturned palms. The look in his eyes as she'd stepped towards him…a look that was, at the same time, vulnerable and masterful, desirous and generous. She took another gulp of cognac, recalling how she'd felt irresistibly drawn toward him, her heart fluttering in her throat. She had been just moments from reaching out and tracing the refined contour of his lips with her finger…from pressing her body against his…
With an unbidden warmth pulsing in her groin, her mind wandered back to the strange parcel on the table behind her. Twirling her quill between pursed lips, she swiveled slowly in her chair until she was staring at the box. It was open again. She drained the snifter.
What could it mean? What was he trying to tell her? The sound of his tender laughter at the site of her smudged face floated to the forefront of her memory, only to be quickly replaced by the acidic hiss of his voice at the moonlit gate:
"Why not? Voldemort's orders?"
Was he taunting her with this gift? Was it a puzzle? A mean joke? A threat?
It was obvious she wasn't going to get any work done until she figured this out. She poured herself some more cognac, took the lamb chop out of the box, set it on the table to study it, and spoke out loud as she circled the small room, trying to decipher the riddle.
"Okay, it's a lamb chop…it comes from a lamb…a lamb is…a baby sheep! Sheep are… ummm…fuzzy…they're barnyard animals…sheep have a reputation for being loyal, yet stupid. Is that what he's trying to say?" Maybe, but it didn't really seem right. She continued.
"Sheep are weak, defenseless…they're not predators, they're prey…sheep are followers! Aha! It's a comment on me being one of Voldemort's "followers!"
She stopped and crinkled her nose. It was still a little obtuse, even for Snape.
"Wait a minute!" she said, snapping her fingers excitedly. She refreshed her drink and grabbed a scrap of parchment from her desk, writing out the letters: L – A – M – B – C- H – O – P in large block print.
Then:
"Champlob"
"Pomblach"
"Mapbloch"
Perhaps there was some arcane significance to one of these anagrams! She laboriously withdrew her massive WED (Wizards English Dictionary) from the bookshelf and fingered through it breathlessly, searching for some meaning among the yellowed pages.
The endeavor proved to her one very important thing: that this whole exercise was a load of rubbish. "Oh Hades!" she cried, slamming shut the enormous book with great difficulty. Addy emptied her snifter again in one stiff shot.
She tried to brainstorm the riddle a bit longer, until her cognac-soaked brain felt as turbulent as the storm outside. Suddenly, a bolt of lightning split the sky, illuminating the room in electric blue, followed by a timpani chorus of thunder.
"That's it. Its time to take the dragon by the horns," she slurred to herself. "Thanks to the sophomoric humor of Professor Severus Snape, it's quite obvious that no work will get done in this room until I have a word with him, and let him know exactly what I think of his little gift."
Addy grumbled to herself as she slammed the lid down (for the third time) on the box, pocketed it and crossed the room, banging her door shut as another clap of thunder rumbled through the castle.
She stormed down to the dungeons, fueled by the warm liquor that coursed through her, rehearsing what she would say in a barely contained undertone the entire way. Every few minutes, lightning would flash through a high window, casting her rampageous expression in deep relief. Had any students been out wandering the halls, they would have had a good fright.
Before long, she was at the door to the Potions Laboratory, cheeks flushed…hands clenched at her sides…angry, cognac-drenched thoughts swimming through her mind and ready to burst forth from her lips.
*********************
Snape had rigged a Sneak-o-Scope to let him know when anyone approached—friend or foe-- which turned out to be a good thing because Addy's current temper would surely have otherwise confounded it. When he saw it start to whirl and sputter, he put the finishing touches on his office, where he had set up dessert for two: champagne and dark chocolate truffles. He didn't particularly care for sweets himself, but could tolerate a finely made bittersweet chocolate from time to time, and he had it on Dumbledore's authority that Addy would appreciate the gesture. He had put all his trust in the idea that his Headmaster knew how to handle a woman, since he certainly did not.
He lit some candles and stepped out into the Potions Classroom, just as the sound of her stomping footsteps came to a halt outside. He went to stand behind his desk, noticing for the first time a strange feeling, deep in his belly—he felt, for the first time in a long time, alive. Puttering around in his office just now, he'd even come close to whistling to himself, once or twice.
Running his hands over his torso and arms, he straightened and smoothed his frock coat, double-checking his buttons to see that he hadn't missed one. He leaned down a bit to check that every button at each ankle of his pants was in place, and, last but not least, placed his hands on his neck to ensure that his collar was standing properly. Then he cleared his throat and fixed a look of gracious welcome on his face, as he pointed his wand at the door and opened it from across the room with an expectant "Alohomora".
Snape was lucky that he had keen reflexes. Had he not ducked just in time, the lamb chop would have hit him smack between the eyes. Even drunk, Addy had good aim.
To be continued…