Chapter Twelve
September, 1976
Dear Sev,
Ugh. Ugh. Ugh.
I can't believe you LEFT ME here.
Mary's not taking the Potions NEWT and you're off in grownup land so guess who's my lab partner?
James BLOODY Potter and I can't believe you left me here.
Love from
Lily
Dear Lily,
Was the Giant Squid unavailable?
Severus
SHOEMAKER FOUND DEAD IN LEEDS
The body of Wilbur Blishwick, aged forty-seven, was found in the River Aire on Tuesday. Blishwick, the proprietor of a Hogsmeade shoe repair shop, was reported missing by his wife on 31 August. Aurors told the Prophet yesterday that they had no reason to suspect foul play, as Blishwick had no particular enemies and was known to be both clumsy and an avid fisherman.
Blishwick is survived by his wife, Elizabeth Blishwick née Jones, and two children.
"What's the matter?"
Severus glanced back at Cadogan. "I beg your pardon," he said, although he didn't.
"You look," Cadogan said with obvious caution, "as though you're walking to the firing squad."
Severus had paused with one hand on the knob to the laboratory door. He allowed his hand to drop and turned to face his nosy employee (who really should be careful of using such obvious Muggle expressions in the current political climate). "Do I?" he asked simply.
Cadogan nodded. "I've been working here for well over a month and I've yet to see you hesitate before dispensing Potions advice that's so far over my head I couldn't reach it with a stepladder, or before throwing would-be shoplifters out the door. Literally."
Severus smirked. He had enjoyed that.
"But each morning when you head down to the lab," Cadogan continued, "you pause for just a moment, and then you take a deep breath and I can practically hear the funeral march: dun dun DUN dun."
The woman actually sang. And she wiggled her fingers on a phantom instrument while she did it.
"Thank you for your concern," Severus said. "Please don't do…that…again."
Cadogan shrugged. "Noted." She leaned forward over the counter. "Is he really that bad?"
"Master Jigger can be…" Severus remembered the delicate way Slughorn had phrased his description. "Demanding."
"I see," Cadogan said. "That's…unsurprising?"
"Rather."
"Well," Cadogan said, "good luck, I suppose. I hope it gets better for you."
"So do I, Ms Cadogan," Severus said. "I appreciate your wishes." Cadogan nodded, and Severus turned back to the laboratory door.
"Incidentally," he said, as he began his descent, "all it takes to expel a shoplifter is a concentrated repelling charm."
"Got it," Cadogan called out. "Thanks."
He closed the door behind him and continued down the stairs.
It wasn't that he and Jigger didn't get along, as that would imply that the two had some sort of real relationship. As a point of fact, since Severus had been able to resume his duties in the laboratory, his interaction with Jigger had been limited to a) summarizing the articles Jigger had assigned for him to read; b) handing Jigger samples of the potions the man had instructed him to brew; and, over and over, c) justifying his brewing techniques as Jigger interrupted time and time again to inquire as to why Severus brewed the way he did.
(At least Jigger hadn't offered further critiques of Severus' hygiene. Although Severus detested the feeling of having his hair pulled tightly into a damnable piece of elastic, he could follow instructions when given them.)
Severus had managed to keep his frustrations to himself since his initial outburst, as he did have to admit that, as unpleasant as Jigger was, he really couldn't know how skilled Severus was with a knife and cauldron until he'd had time to observe him. (And, given how frustrated Severus found his students' unwillingness to grant him proper respect, Severus was determined to act appropriately until Jigger accepted his superior skills and knowledge and they developed a true working relationship.)
But, weeks later, Severus couldn't help but wonder how bloody long this observational period was going to continue.
"An Everlasting Elixir, today," Jigger said by way of greeting when Severus entered the laboratory. "At least fourth tier complexity."
"Yes, Master Jigger," Severus said, and reached for a cauldron.
Dear Sev,
Ha very ha. YES.
Potter isn't half bad as a partner although he's slightly hopeless at the material (I don't know how he got the OWL but I suspect cheating). And he and Black (who's partnered with poor Pettigrew—he's such a nice boy, I don't know why he hangs out with Black and Potter, it must be the same Gryffindor disease that's got poor Remus) keep making fish faces at each other when Slughorn isn't looking, which is often. KILL ME PLEASE.
Does Master Jigger love you yet?
Love from
Lily
Dear Lily,
Master Jigger does not, I am fairly certain, "love" anyone. However, he does seem to tolerate my presence ever so slightly more, as I believe he may have unintentionally forgotten to insult my intelligence yesterday—a victory for the House of Slytherin, to be sure.
You should hex Potter when he's not looking. Frankly, you should hex Potter when he is looking.
Incidentally, did you notice anything odd about my OWL scores?
Sincerely,
Severus
Diagon Alley, London
Slug & Jigger's Apothecary
Ministry of Magic
Division of Magical Education
Diagon Alley, London
Dear Ms Hopkirk;
Many thanks for your reply and your warm wishes. I would also like to inquire as to the "Incomplete" mark on my Transfigurations O.W.L. I understand that I did not sit the practical portion of the examination; this was due to my taking the Arithmancy N.E.W.T., which was scheduled for the same time.
Given my score on the Transfigurations N.E.W.T., might my O.W.L. score be adjusted to reflect what would, surely, have been an exemplary performance?
I eagerly await your thoughts on this matter.
Sincerely,
Severus Snape
Severus, on his way from his flat to the laboratory, reached the end of the rear staircase just as Cadogan entered through the back door. "Ms Cadogan," he said by way of greeting, and gestured for her to precede him to the front of the shop.
Uncharacteristically, Cadogan did not reply with "Mister Snape," or with "Try not to sound too excited to see me," or even with "How is your redheaded lady friend?" (Although Severus did have enough faith in the woman's intelligence that she would never try that particular greeting again—not after Severus had assigned her to inventory all the eyeballs and entrails in the shop.) Instead, Cadogan merely nodded and, head lowered, walked briskly to the front of the shop, where she took her place behind the counter without a word.
Severus followed at a more moderate pace. He didn't need eighteen years' spying experience to observe that Cadogan was upset—but he had no interest in delving into his employee's personal life. It was unprofessional.
(And he didn't care.)
So Severus merely turned to remind Cadogan that, should she need anything, she should alert him via the cord next to the laboratory door—
"Ms Cadogan," Severus said suddenly, "are you injured?"
"What?" Cadogan said. "No, I—" She put her hand up to the large, red welt on her left cheek. "Oh, I—I'm sorry, I—" She reached for her wand. "Epiksey."
"The incantation is 'episkey,'" Severus said quietly.
"Right. I—I did know that, I just—episkey." The welt on her cheek disappeared; she touched her face, feeling the now-smooth skin with calloused fingers, her eyes closed.
"Forgive me if I intrude," Severus said, "But how is it that you came to acquire such an injury during your lunch break?"
Cadogan shook her head. "It was nothing," she said.
Severus raised an eyebrow.
"It—it was just some arseholes," Cadogan said. "They thought they'd have a bit of sport with a few stinging hexes. I'm fine."
"You were attacked?" Severus asked pointedly.
He watched with no small amount of alarm as Cadogan angrily wiped at her eyes. "It's not me, personally," she said. "I was just in the wrong place, at the wrong time, with the wrong blood."
"Did you recognise your assailants?" Severus pressed.
Cadogan shook her head. "No, I didn't know them," she said bitterly. "Like I said, they were just some blood purist arseholes who saw a Mudblood and—"
"Please," Severus said, as his shoulders tensed involuntarily. "Don't use that word."
Cadogan, clearly startled, fixed him with a curious gaze. "All right," she said. "In any case, that's the word they used, and no, I don't know who they were."
"Were they observed?" Severus asked.
Cadogan shrugged. "I doubt it," she said. "I was taking the shortcut behind Fortescue's—"
"The one adjacent to Knockturn Alley?" Severus asked.
"Look," Cadogan said, her expression turning from hurt and embarrassment to irritation. "I appreciate your concern, but if you're going to tell me that I should know better than to use that shortcut, just—just don't. I shouldn't have to choose my route based on whether some Pureblood delinquents are—"
Severus held up a hand, and, to his surprise, Cadogan fell silent. "I was merely verifying the location of the attack," he said.
Cadogan nodded. "All right."
"Are you…" Severus phrased his question carefully. "…planning to report the incident to the DMLE?"
Cadogan snorted. "What, and let the blood purists there know that I'm an uppity Mud—sorry."
"Unfortunately," Severus said, "I believe you may be correct. If—would you prefer to take a break before we re-open?"
Cadogan shook her head. "No. Can we—I just want to carry on."
"Very well," Severus said. "If there's any way I can be of assistance…?"
Cadogan let out a single bark of laughter. "Sorry, sorry," she said. "But, er, I think I can excuse you from 'comforting' duty."
That was unfair. Severus had been doing an admirable job of feigning interest in Cadogan's well-being. It was simply unfortunate that she couldn't provide any substantive clues as to the identities of her attackers.
"Then I'll leave you to re-open," he said. "Do alert me if you need assistance and, ah, do recall the banishing charms."
"Thank you, Mr Snape," Cadogan said, pointedly turning to the front of the store.
Severus opened the laboratory door. "Incidentally, Ms Cadogan," he said as he descended, "you are uppity."
Cadogan whirled around, a hint of a smile on her still-reddened face. "Away with you!" she exclaimed.
Severus—who felt oddly accomplished despite the fact that he had learned absolutely nothing—closed the door.
Dear Sev,
Do you mean the Incomplete on your Transfigs score? I guess I figured that wasn't a big deal?
I am not going to hex Potter, as a) that would be stooping to his level, and b) he really isn't that bad—he's really been on his best behaviour this year, for what that's worth—he's just, ugh. Childish I guess? Which, I know we're the same age. It's just, comparing him to, like, I don't know. You?
He's just such a little boy.
I hope that doesn't sound weird.
Love from
Lily
Ministry of Magic
Diagon Alley, London
Division of Magical Education
Dear Mr Snape:
I have spoken with Ms Marchbanks of the Wizarding Examinations Authority. Given the uniqueness of your situation, the Ministry is prepared to make an adjustment of your "Incomplete" score and change your mark to "Acceptable."
If this is not agreeable to you, you are welcome to file an official appeal with the Division of Magical Education, at which point a make-up examination will be scheduled for you.
Kindest regards,
Malfalda Hopkirk
Assistant Secretary, Division of Magical Education
Dear Lily,
I noticed the errant score last week, when organising my previous correspondence. I somehow failed to notice when I received them. Perhaps my eyesight is going further. Regardless, I have taken steps toward rectifying this mistake.
I am flattered that you think me mature, but I rather wish there had been a higher standard for comparison than James "Isn't It Amusing When I Put This Up My Nose" Potter.
Rest assured that I have always regarded you as far more refined than our peers.
Sincerely,
Severus
Slug & Jigger's Apothecary
Diagon Alley, London
Ministry of Magic
Division of Magical Education
Diagon Alley, London
Dear Ms Hopkirk;
Enclosed you will find Appeal Form 11.3.µ, Appeal to Make Up O.W.L., Transfigurations.
I am available at any time on Mondays at your convenience.
Sincerely,
Severus Snape
"Master Jigger," Severus said carefully, as the other man closely observed as he brewed a standard all-purpose antidote (honestly, as though any NEWT student couldn't do the same in his sleep). "I'd like your opinion on something."
"Yes?" Jigger said (neutrally, always neutrally), his gaze never wavering from Severus' moving hands.
"Yesterday, when I was practising the extra-potent Wit Sharpening Potion—"
"The one I approved for sale this morning?"
"Yes. I told Cadogan to mark it up twenty-five percent from the standard ones in stock and label it 'for emergencies only.'"
"Good. We'll probably need more. But go on."
Severus finished the thirtieth counterclockwise stir—he paused for comment, but, surprisingly, none came—and set his stainless steel stirring rod down on the charmed spoon rest. "It occurred to me, as I added the ginger, that, were we to incorporate certain elements known to cause confusion in the drinker, we might be able to produce a potion that simultaneously sharpens the mind of the drinker and muddles his own perception of it."
The primary ingredient was lovage, and, in Severus' Mastery project, he had given the potion the admittedly unimaginative title of "Draught to Increase Susceptibility to Veritaserum."
Jigger, as far as Severus could tell, seemed thoughtful. "And the application of such a potion would be?"
"It might," Severus said, "open the drinker's mind to interrogation, through Veritaserum, truth charms, or…more direct methods."
The two Occlumenses regarded one another for a moment.
"An interesting hypothesis," Jigger allowed. "And one we can certainly consider investigating, after you have passed your QUAILs."
"I understand," Severus said. "But, since this idea is directly related to the potions I have been revising—learning—" Severus inwardly cringed—what was he, to misspeak like that? "—I thought, perhaps, we could incorporate this experimentation as part of the QUAIL preparation process."
Jigger leaned back slightly on his stool. "I gather that you are…frustrated with the pace of your apprenticeship?"
Severus adjusted the cauldron on his table. "I am…eager to begin original research," he said. "And given how quickly we have progressed through our schedule…"
"Yes, thanks to your constantly pushing to move on to the next subject."
Severus bit the inside of his cheek.
"You will continue to brew the potions I assign, with my supervision, on Wednesdays," Jigger said.
Severus' eyebrows lifted of their own accord. "Leaving Fridays for experimentation?"
"Yes, fine." Jigger's eyes turned to the periodical in front of him. "You've shown that you may have earned that NEWT record after all."
Severus hadn't been so begrudgingly complimented since it had been intimated to him that he was more than "just" a Slytherin.
"Sir, I'd like to say something," Severus said, "and I hope I won't be misconstrued."
Jigger glanced back up. "Do go on," he said drily.
"I would not have been able to set that record if I hadn't had fifty years of others' research to study so closely."
Jigger was silent for a moment. "I dislike flattery," he said at last.
"And that is why I don't employ it," Severus replied.
Jigger said nothing.
"Did you know," Severus said into the silence, "that they only notify those who have set the top record?"
"Do they?" Jigger said.
Severus nodded. "One might achieve the second-highest score in, for example, the Defence Against the Dark Arts NEWT, and never be told, even if that record remains in the top five fifty years later."
Jigger, to Severus' satisfaction, looked ever so slightly pleased for just a moment. "Really," he said, and then his expression neutralised once more. "I wonder why you inquired as to those records. Allow me to guess—second-highest?"
Severus, to his annoyance, felt his cheeks colour slightly. "No. Ah. Third."
Jigger picked up his magazine once more. "Very well," he said—and, for the first time, Severus heard the slightest hint of amusement in the man's voice. "Make your Mind-Opening Potion, Mr Snape."
Severus blinked. "That—that's an excellent name for it," he said.
Jigger opened the magazine. "Flattery, Mr Snape," he said. "I won't say it again."
Severus opened his mouth, and, realising that there were only so many battles one could fight and win, closed it again.
Division of Magical Education
Ministry of Magic
Diagon Alley, London
Dear Mr Snape:
I have scheduled your make-up Transfigurations practical O.W.L. for Monday next, ten o'clock a.m. Please report to the Division of Magical Education no later than nine forty-five.
Kindest regards,
Malfalda Hopkirk
Assistant Secretary, Division of Magical Education
Dear Sev,
Come on, Potter hasn't done that nose trick since at least fourth year.
Love from
Lily
Diagon Alley, London
Slug & Jigger's Apothecary
Ministry of Magic
Division of Magical Education
Diagon Alley, London
Dear Ms Hopkirk;
Many thanks for your assistance in this matter. I will certainly report to the Ministry tomorrow at nine forty-five a.m. for my make-up Transfigurations O.W.L., practical portion.
Sincerely,
Severus Snape
Severus was finished at the Division of Magical Education by ten-thirty. The practical examination had been laughably easy—he had amused himself by modelling his tortoise-cum-teapot on the Hogwarts china, which had delighted the examiner—and he had fled the company of the department's loquacious secretary as soon as he could. (The woman, only a handful of years older than Severus was at the moment, had the unnerving tic of blinking far too many times in rapid succession. As she also stared intently at him through half-closed eyes, she presumably had some sort of vision problem.)
So he still had the bulk of his day off to look forward to—he planned to check on his Felix Felicis, to clean his loo (Jigger employed a housekeeper for the shop and the flat, but Severus had yet to see any indication that the woman had even once taken a wand to the bathtub), and, of course, to write to Lily—and he waited for the lift in a somewhat pleasanter mood than usual.
Of course, the lift opened to reveal Lucius Malfoy and Antonin Dolohov, at which point his mood soured considerably.
"Severus," Malfoy said, surprise evident in his over-posh voice. "What a surprise."
"Mr Malfoy," Severus said with a nod as he stepped into the lift.
He did not know Dolohov. He had never seen him before. He didn't acknowledge him.
"Antonin, this young man is in the same Hogwarts House that I myself was once in," Lucius said by way of introduction. "Severus, Mr Dolohov is an associate of mine."
"A pleasure to meet you," Severus said, shaking the murderer's hand.
The lift sped upward, and Malfoy turned an inquisitive gaze to Severus. "I simply must ask," he said, "what brings you to the Ministry when, given the time of year, you should be at Hogwarts. Surely you're not skiving off? Don't tell me you've been expelled. You certainly can't be here on…family business."
Yes, yes, all of Slytherin knew Severus was a destitute halfblood. Very clever. Regardless, this particular destitute halfblood still had no desire to crow about his accomplishments to two of the Dark Lord's servants.
"A scheduling conflict prevented me from taking the practical portion of my Transfiguration OWL," Severus said honestly. "I've just taken it."
"I see," Malfoy said. "How did you do?"
"Well enough, I suspect," Severus said. "Thank you."
"Good, good." The lift opened onto the Atrium, and Malfoy gestured with his ostentatious cane that Severus should exit first. He did so.
He did not enjoy having his back to the two men.
Malfoy, to Severus' visceral displeasure, continued to walk with him through the Atrium. "We've just been meeting with the Minister," Malfoy drawled. "A lovely man. You can rest assured that our Ministry is in the appropriate hands."
"Excellent," Severus said.
"And here we are," Malfoy said as they reached the row of fireplaces, and Severus belatedly realised that Malfoy expected him to floo back to Hogwarts. "Do give my regards to Horace—to Professor Slughorn, I mean," Malfoy said.
"Ah, certainly," Severus said. "Nice to meet you, Mr Dolohov."
Dolohov nodded, his lack of interest in an unconnected student clearly evident in his face, and Severus relaxed ever so slightly.
"Take care, Mr Malfoy," Severus said, and, no better ideas presenting themselves, he stepped into the green flames and clearly—but quietly—stated his destination.
Tom the barman blinked when Severus tumbled out of the Leaky's fireplace, but after Severus cleaned up all the scattered soot, the man said nothing.
A/N: Thank you so much for your reviews, which always make me a) smile, b) think, or c) hit myself in the head for not thinking of something before. Each reaction is welcome.
Responses to anonymous/unsigned reviews, chapter status updates, and apologies/excuses for, er, rather late chapters, can be found on my livejournal (debpeters).
Coming up: a Hogsmeade weekend.