Chapter IX: Confessions

Cassandra had hung up the phone quite a while ago, but Severus had not moved. He was still standing by the window, still holding the phone with one hand and slowly clenching and unclenching the other.

She had not sounded as surprised as he had thought she would. Did that mean that she had expected him to find out that she was a witch? And did that in its turn mean that she knew about his secrets as well? Of course, she must know by now that he was a wizard. Only a wizard could have blown her cover. But did she know who he was?

Severus put down the phone and started pacing. Cassandra wanted to see him. But was he ready? Was he ready to hear her telling him who she really was? And was he ready to give her an answer in case she asked who he was?

Purposefully, he grabbed his coat and marched towards the door. There was no point in postponing the inevitable. Sooner or later he would have to face Cassandra and with her his past.

Severus had not been prepared for the sight that presented itself as Cassandra opened her front door. She was wearing a long dark blue robe embroidered with signs that he had not seen for years. That robe was not made by a Muggle tailor. It was undoubtedly Madam Malkin's handiwork.

Cassandra looked up at him, her face just as inscrutable as his own. 'So you've figured it out,' she stated, her voice neutral. Gone was her smile, gone was the warm tone. And Severus regretted ever having picked up that ill-fated ring, wished that everything could be as it had been the night of the party when he had actually been happy for a while.

Cassandra stepped away from the door and beckoned him inside. Nicodemus was sitting in the hall, its yellow eyes fixed on Severus. And as the wizard moved, so did the cat. And as he followed Cassandra into the living room, the cat hurried to keep up, always keeping its place between the witch and the wizard.

Severus accepted Cassandra's offer for tea with a silent nod and settled into the chair she pointed towards. Clutching his tea cup with both hands, he let his eyes wander towards the bookshelves and shook his head. He should have understood when he examined those books for the first time. No ordinary Muggle would own books like these. As he caught sight of Advanced Potion Making, he turned to face Cassandra.

'How could you keep this from me?'

She looked straight at him, and her voice was firm and calm as she spoke. 'Despite it being the twenty-first century, people still do not react very positively towards witchcraft.'

'You have been lying to me.'

She put down her tea cup with a clatter. 'I have not.' There was now a defiant tone in her voice. 'I have given you plenty of clues. You just chose not to see them.'

He was just about to open his mouth to deliver a biting retort when a whooshing noise from the fireplace made him jump up from his chair.

'It's not like you have been completely honest with Cassandra either, Severus.'

Slightly perplexed, he stared at the elderly woman who had exited the fireplace and was now brushing ashes off her emerald robe. Minerva McGonagall had been one of the last people he had expected. He spun around to face Cassandra. She did not look surprised at all but just got up and filled a third tea cup.

'What is this?' Severus barked. 'Some kind of set-up?'

'Nobody is trying to set you up in any way, Severus,' Minerva said in a slightly annoyed tone. 'Now sit down.'

He defiantly kept standing up.

'Severus Snape, have a seat,' Minerva ordered. Instead, Cassandra sank onto the nearest chair.

'So it is you,' she whispered.

Severus did not answer. And once more silence settled over the room. Minerva had made herself comfortable on the sofa, and Nicodemus had jumped up onto her lap. For several minutes, the tabby's purring was the only sound to be heard in the house. It was Minerva who broke the silence.

'For heaven's sake. Severus, open your mouth. Ask Cassandra what you want to know so desperately that you ventured to break into my office.'

Severus stared at the Headmistress, baffled.

'Oh, come on, Severus. Didn't you think that your break-in went a little too smoothly?'

'Did I leave a trace?' he asked. 'Did one of the portraits …'

'I was expecting you, Severus,' Minerva replied. 'Cassandra informed me that you had found the ring.'

'How could you have known?' he asked, now looking at Cassandra. She just nodded towards Nicodemus, who was now sleeping on Minerva's lap.

'That infernal cat,' Severus growled. 'I should have wrung its neck the first time it attacked me.'

'It was Nicodemus who recognised you in the first place.' Minerva's voice was as patient as if she were talking to a five-year-old.

'He's a Kneazle.' For the first time since Minerva's arrival, Cassandra was speaking. 'He recognised you as a wizard the moment he laid eyes upon you.'

'Is that why he tried to rip me into pieces?'

Cassandra shook her head. 'He noticed that you had a secret.'

'He probably sensed your Dark Mark, Severus,' Minerva added.

Severus' eyes were fixed on Cassandra. She suddenly looked pale, fragile. She had clasped her hands in her lap and resolutely stared down at them.

'Why do you own a Kneazle who is trained to detect the Dark Mark, Cassandra?' He saw a muscle twitch in her jaw, but she did not answer, did not raise her gaze. So he turned to Minerva. 'Well?'

'I gave the Kneazle to her,' the Headmistress explained. 'For protection.'

'Protection from what?'

Again, there was silence. Minerva was looking at Cassandra, who in her turn was still staring at her hands. And Severus was alternately staring at one of the women, waiting for an answer. Then he got up on his feet and started pacing the room.

'Is either one of you going to tell me what is going on here?' he snapped. 'Why is Sirius Black's little sister hiding in Iceland? Why is she being protected by a Kneazle? And what does she need protection from?'

'My past.' Cassandra's voice was so weak that it was almost inaudible.

Severus swirled around to see her stare at him. Her eyes were filled with fear, her hands shaking. What the hell was going on? From the corner of his eye, he saw Nicodemus jump down from Minerva's knees and run towards his mistress. Cassandra picked the cat up and hugged it towards her chest, as if she was trying to hide behind it.

'You could say that all of it started when Cassandra came to Hogwarts,' Minerva started. 'You know the Black family, Severus. They have always prided themselves with their pure-blood ancestry. Of course, they had made plans to marry off Cassandra to a pure-blood wizard the day she was born. But that plan would have required that she was sorted into Slytherin. When she was sorted into Ravenclaw, the family of her future husband declared that they would not have her. Then Orion and Walburga more or less told her that she needn't bother coming home anymore. They did not want yet another black sheep in the family.'

Once more, Severus looked from Minerva to Cassandra. Nicodemus had now settled in her lap, and she was petting the cat with steady hands. But she was still not looking up, nor was she speaking.

'Her brothers didn't care about her,' Minerva went on. 'Sirius was too busy cooking up mischief with his friends, and Regulus did his parents' bidding and distanced himself from his sister. Very few people even knew that the Blacks had three children.'

Severus nodded. That explained why he had not known about Cassandra, despite him having spent a fair bit of time with Regulus. It struck him as a bit odd, however, that Sirius had not triumphed when his sister, like himself, had not been sorted into Slytherin.

'The year Cassandra took her N.E.W.T.s, Voldemort was at the peak of his reign, and she had nowhere to go. She was certainly not welcomed at home. And although she was not in any way involved with Voldemort or the Death Eaters, she did not find any employment. Her family name brought her nothing but trouble. And since certain Death Eaters still had some unfinished business with the Blacks, she was in danger. That was when Professor Flitwick suggested that she went abroad, at least for a while. When she found the love of her life, she decided to stay in the Muggle world. And we all thought it was for the best.'

Minerva got up and crossed the room, coming to a halt in front of Cassandra. She cupped the younger woman's chin in her hand and made her look at her. 'I think you should tell him the rest yourself, kitten,' she whispered.

Cassandra nodded tentatively, and Minerva patted her cheek. Then she turned to Severus. 'Do I have to put a spell on the door, or will you voluntarily stay to listen, Severus?'

'I will stay,' he promised.

Before stepping into the fireplace, Minerva turned once more to face her two charges. 'You know where to find me, both of you.' And then she was gone.

For a while, Severus stared at the empty grate. Then he felt something brush against his legs. It was Nicodemus. 'You want me to talk to your mistress, don't you?'

As if to say yes, Nicodemus bumped its head once more against Severus' leg and then jumped onto Cassandra's lap again.

'Please don't think badly of me, Severus.' Her voice sounded strange, endlessly tired, thick with tears. 'I never meant to deceive you in any way.'

'When did you figure out who I was?' He just had to ask. He needed to know.

Cassandra shrugged. 'You presented me with just as many clues as I did, although you did not mean to. There was your first name, your accent. There was the fact that you are three years older than me and could very well be the Severus I remembered from school – from Hogwarts.'

'A proper analysis,' Severus stated. 'But then again, that is what can be expected of a Ravenclaw.'

Cassandra nodded. 'And then there was the way Nicodemus reacted towards you, of course.'

'You said he behaved like that with family.'

'Yes, family. Wizards, Severus.'

'Why did you not say anything?'

'I wanted to be sure. I needed proof. That was why I let you see parts of the bookshelf. I normally don't let my Muggle friends see those books.'

Of course not. She had even told him that she was a witch that day. And he had chosen not to believe and instead bought her silly explanation about being a Wiccan. All of a sudden, Severus felt rather stupid.

'I figured that if you were a wizard, you did not want to reveal it,' Cassandra went on. 'And so I decided not to ask. We had made a deal, you and I. Remember? We said we wouldn't dig in each other's pasts.'

Severus nodded. He remembered that afternoon at the tiny café. He had enjoyed himself tremendously then. For some blissful hours, Cassandra had made him forget his past. And now it was all crashing down on him like a tidal wave.

'I thought we would both come clean eventually. And then Nicodemus knocked over the casket.' She sighed heavily. 'I didn't want you to find out that way.'

Again, Severus nodded. 'I can imagine better ways as well. But maybe it was for the best.'

'I'm sorry, Severus.'

'So am I, Cassandra.' Then he rose from his chair. 'I need to catch the last bus into town. I have to work tomorrow.'

'Please don't leave, Severus.' There was a look of sheer desperation on her face. But Severus wasn't ready to respond to her emotions. He had to sort out his own first.

'Please don't leave,' she repeated.

He looked down at her, his heart heavy in his chest. 'What do you want me to do, Cassandra?' he asked. 'What are you hoping for if I stay here tonight?'

He saw her shoulders droop. But she was still looking straight at him. And he thought that there were tears shining in her eyes. 'I'm not hoping for anything, Severus. But I'm afraid that you'll walk through this door and never have the courage to come back.'

'Are you calling me a coward?' The tone of his voice was much harsher than he had intended it to be, and he regretted it immediately as Cassandra flinched.

'No,' she replied, shaking her head. 'You are not a coward, Severus. You are a survivor. And survivors do not tempt fate. Your Slytherin self-perseverance will keep you from coming back.'

Severus nodded. Yes, maybe it would. Maybe he would walk out on her now and never see her again. The thought made his heart ache.

He resisted the urge to touch her. Had he touched her, his determination would have crumbled and he would have stayed. But he could not. He mustn't. Not tonight. 'Goodbye, Cassandra,' he whispered softly. Then he turned on his heels and left without looking back.