Chapter 15
The Tallest Tower
Outside of classwork, Charity spent her last weeks of the school year avoiding Snape and searching towers. She couldn't stop wondering about the girls in the painting. The more she thought about it, the more compelled she became to locate the old meeting spot. The fact that the girls continued to be tight-lipped about the whole thing only made finding the room that much more intriguing. At the very least, this activity gave her mind something new to dwell on. She knew the meeting place had been at Hogwarts, and she knew it had been in a tower, so she spent countless hours stumbling around dark, unused towers and closely examining familiar ones.
Snape's attitude towards Charity, meanwhile, had become pointedly antagonistic, starting with that night in the trophy room. She was actually beginning to miss the days when he'd treated her as nothing more than an unpleasant stain on the wall. There was a particularly nasty incident on Charity's birthday at the beginning of May. The owl post had brought her two packages that morning. The first was a beautiful copper jewelry box with inlaid silver and stones from her parents – "Goblin Made" her mother had told her in the birthday card that accompanied it.
The second was from Oliver Wood. Charity and Wood had kept up a correspondence since they first met at the Yule ball. Knowing her father's love of Quidditch, he'd sent tickets to a Puddlemere game last summer. At the game, Wood surprised them by flying into the stands just before the match began and handing Charity a bouquet of flowers. He'd made such a spectacular and crucial save during the game that he'd earned his new nickname, the Prince of Puddlemere. His package to Charity contained a large aerial pictorial of the Most Beautiful Quidditch Fields of the World and an autographed photo of young Wood in his Puddlemere United uniform.
At the end of the meal, a small cake appeared in front of Charity, and Dumbledore led the whole school in a round of 'Happy Birthday' or whatever each individual chose to sing. It was a loud, happy racket, and put Charity in a chipper mood as she left the Great Hall that morning, presents in tow. She was looking down at the photo of Ollie, thinking what a nice young man he was and how handsome he looked in his Quidditch robes, when Snape passed by. He glanced down at the athletic figure, which was winking and smiling away at Charity.
"You and Wood, hmm?" he sneered unpleasantly.
"We've become friends, yes," Charity answered coldly. "What difference does that make to you?"
"You'll make a striking couple – Beauty and the Dolt."
Charity narrowed her eyes at Snape and continued walking, but he kept pace with her and added, "And what lovely children you'll have. Why, you could make your own Quidditch team - a beautiful, stupid Quidditch team."
Why was he doing this? Rather than snap back, Charity tried to get away by making a sharp turn down the next corridor, but Snape grabbed onto her forearm and pulled her to face him. He was looking right at her, yet it felt as if he was looking through her. How different were their interactions from last year. Charity was suddenly thinking of a friendly conversation they'd once had and fought the urge to shake the Snape now standing in front of her in an effort to bring her old Snape back. Instead, she forced her mind back to the present and wrenched her arm out of his grip.
"That was mean…you're just mean, Severus Snape," she told him shakily. This time he let her walk away. She was upset with herself because she didn't understand why she still let him get to her. She was even more upset by the fact that her brief happy memory with Snape had reopened that aching void that had just started to heal over.
Dark, lonely towers were comparatively attractive to scenes like that one, so Charity continued to haunt them. Her heart sank a bit when she considered that maybe the meeting place from the painting was nothing more than a girls' dorm in either Ravenclaw or Gryffindor tower. She'd been hoping for something more esoteric. She wheedled an invitation to the dorms from students in each of those houses. She was immediately able to cross Ravenclaw Tower off the list of possibilities because that tower had no view of the forest. She then eliminated Gryffindor when she noted that there were no fireplaces in the dorm rooms. Charity's girls most definitely had a fireplace - it provided for the poker with which they chased off Cadogan.
On several occasions she purposely walked past the painting in order to surreptitiously scan for any revealing details, but still the search was fruitless. Not to be discouraged, Charity figured that at the very least she was finally getting a better grasp on the logistics of Hogwarts castle.
*****
Charity's castle wanderings were put on hiatus as end-of-term exams approached. One evening, Charity was huddled in her office, putting the final touches on a fourth year final, when there was a soft knock at her door. She opened it to find Snape standing there. His sharp, pale features seemed shaken and unsure, yet his black eyes remained steady on hers. She returned his silent gaze and noted that the venom of the past several weeks was remarkably absent. He seemed to be searching her eyes and must have found what he was looking for, because without a word and in a single motion, he stepped forward and closed the door with one arm. He wrapped his other around her waist and pulled Charity into a kiss.
Snape's kiss was firm yet his lips were surprisingly soft. All in all, Charity found the sensation to be quite pleasant. Wait! What was she doing? Her hands were on his chest, and she used them to push him back. Snape didn't try to stop her, but he kept his hands around her waist. Breathing heavily, Snape and Charity regarded each other for several charged moments. Charity peered intently into Snape's expectant eyes, trying hopelessly to figure him out. She could see that he was waiting for her to make her decision. It was obvious that he longed to have his mouth back on hers, but he wasn't going to pressure her. She had to give him credit – this was one hell of a lot better than 'I was only doing my job.' How could she resist?
She lunged back to him, and they were at it again. This time it somehow felt okay, like it was alright for Charity to forget about all the past months of Snape's cruelty and neglect, like she should pull him closer. They stumbled through the grapevine wreath with a breathless "la cucaracha," and slipped onto her sofa with their hearts pressed tightly together. The only words between them for the next while were Snape's barely audible murmurs, "…need you… tonight …my strength…"
Later, as they reclined silently on her sofa, Charity traced her index finger over Snape's sharp features. He certainly had been harshly drawn, but nothing could have looked better to her than him looking at her the way he was just then. He gazed on her, almost with out blinking, as if he wanted to drink her in with his eyes, imprint her lovely image on his brain, and memorize every detail. It was the tenderest of looks, and somewhat disbelieving. His look mimicked how Charity felt – were they really here together, holding each other, throwing off all decorum and inhibitions, simply…in love?
A thousand questions sprang to Charity's head: What had brought about Snape's sudden change in attitude? Why had he gone away in the first place? What was his favorite color? Charity suddenly wanted to know everything about him, but this wasn't the time to ask; she didn't want to break whatever spell they were under. Besides, there would be plenty of time for questions some other day. So she stayed silent with Snape - looking at him, smiling at him, and pelting him with soft kisses. The spell was inevitably broken when a shadow gradually returned to Snape's face.
"There's something I want to make for you," he said. With no further explanation, he sat up, reached for his cloak, and pulled out a small vile labeled 'Asphodel - powdered root'. He borrowed Charity's small copper cauldron and began mixing a few common herbs and a dash of wormwood from her kitchenette with the contents of the vile. Puffy white steam began to rise from the mixture.
Charity walked lazily over and sat on her kitchen stool across the counter from him with her head propped on one hand. She felt calm, content, and a bit tired. Her weariness seemed to increase as the steam grew thicker.
As she watched her potion master through the thickening fog, she reflected on all that she had wondered about him over the past year. Had the lure of Dark Magic really penetrated him at some point? Was that what had taken him away from her? Whatever the case, he'd come round to her now and that was all the evidence she needed to believe that his goodness had won out.
"You're a good man Severus Snape," she murmured sleepily. When Snape gave no response, she felt slightly embarrassed at having said it out loud, so she decided to cover by teasing him. "I don't care what everyone else says."
Staying focused on the potion, Snape murmured under his breath, "If only that were true." By the time he finished saying it, Charity was sound asleep.
*****
Charity forced her eyes open at an urgent knocking at the door of her office. As she roused herself, she also heard commotion in the hallway.
"Professor Burbage, are you in there?" came a stern voice through the door. It was McGonagall. Charity jumped up and wiped drool from her cheek.
"Coming Minerva!" she called. After quickly verifying that Snape was gone and chiding Bnickel not to look at her like that, she dashed into her office and opened the door.
"What is it?" she asked, her curiosity growing as she noticed frantic activity in the hallway.
"Good Heavens, have you been drugged?" asked McGonagall, peering into Charity's eyes. "Hogwarts has been invaded by Death Eaters. Get up to Gryffindor Tower immediately and KEEP THE STUDENTS THERE!" McGonagall shouted as she started rushing away down the hall. She stopped herself suddenly and dashed back to whisper, "Quid Agis," to Charity.
"What?" Charity asked. She did indeed feel as if she'd been drugged; her head was thick and it had sounded to her as if McGonagall was speaking another language.
"Quid Agis," McGonagall repeated quickly, apparently struggling to keep her voice low. "It's the password to the tower at the painting of the – large boned woman in pink." As she said this, Charity noticed burn marks across McGonagall's face, but the elderly professor was already on the move before Charity could ask any questions. As McGonagall neared the end of the corridor, she quickly shouted to Charity, "And DON'T give out any details to the students - nothing has been confirmed!"
It would be no problem for Charity to keep the details to herself, because she didn't know any. She pulled on her robe and headed off to Gryffindor Tower. By divine guidance she navigated her way quickly, only once running past the tapestry hiding a vital staircase before quickly doubling back. After making her way up a narrow staircase and jumping a false step that she'd nearly forgotten about, she found herself standing in front of a portrait of a large woman wearing a poufy pink dress. The subject's eyes were nearly as poufy as her dress from crying, and they had a slightly terrified look about them.
"Quid agis," Charity said gently, hoping she'd remembered the password correctly.
The portrait swung open as the subject let out a loud sob and blew her nose into a corner of pink satin. Charity climbed into the round Gryffindor common room, still feeling groggy. As soon as she had the students as calm as she supposed was possible under the circumstances, she allowed herself to wonder - what exactly were the circumstances? More Gryffindors came pouring through the portrait hole as they were shooed in by the other professors. They came with much news. Unimaginable, unprecedented, unforgivable news. For the rest of their lives, the generation of students at Hogwarts that year would clearly remember exactly where they were the moment they heard that Albus Dumbledore was dead.
Charity was standing in the middle of the common room of Gryffindor tower, still in a dopey haze. The haze seemed to clear instantly when Seamus Finnegan came through the hole yelling, "They got Dumbledore. Threw him over the side of the tower!" Seamus had apparently been hiding at the end of the corridor, getting updates from Nearly Headless Nick. Students rushed to the window, but all they could see was darkness.
More students came with reports that the Order of the Phoenix was at Hogwarts doing battle with the Death Eaters. Snape, one of Dumbledore's most trusted advisors, was surely embroiled in the battle. Charity wanted to rush out into the castle, but needed to stay in her post. Seamus was furious when she wouldn't let him return to the hallway for updates. She held her ground firmly and explained that the best way to help the Order was to stay put. Three students did not return to the common room until very late – Ron Weasley, Hermione Granger, and Ginny Weasley. When they did return, they were able to relay the whole story. The whole wretched story.
The rumors that had been tossed about all night fell out as follows: Dumbledore was indeed dead; Death Eaters had invaded the castle; the Order of the Phoenix and several professors had been on hand doing battle with them; a particularly nasty Slytherin sixth year, Draco Malfoy, had been helping the Death Eaters all year long and was the one that had disarmed Dumbledore. The one that killed Dumbledore, however, the one that betrayed the man who had wholeheartedly trusted him when no one else would, was Severus Snape.