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Chapter Eleven
After a week of waiting, it became obvious that Emma was not going to return this time.
Severus had waited at home every day, lying on his subtly transfigured bed, staring at the ceiling. He wondered where Emma was, whether she was home already or if she was headed to some uncertain part of the future. Part of him – a voice he never liked to listen to – recalled her offhand comment that wizards who attempted to travel forwards in time had a tendency simply to cease to exist.
It didn't bear thinking about.
The worst part, just like last time, was that no one knew she had vanished. Neither of his parents knew that she had returned, and he was not planning on telling them. His father still didn't know the girl they had taken in off the street had been a witch. It wouldn't do for him to find out. His mother's reaction to Emma, and her increasing distance from her own magic, discouraged him for discussing anything magical with her. Lily hadn't contacted him after Potter's swaggering display in her front garden, and he had no close friends at school with whom he could discuss anything like this.
Her absence was everywhere.
The chair in the kitchen where she had sat to share tea and toast with him; his bookcase that she had rummaged through as she had examined each book in detail; even his own bed. Worst of all, when he finally stopped waiting for her and headed out down the towpath towards the woods, he realised that she was haunting the little clearing by the stream, too. Even Lily hadn't taken so much of his life with her when she left. Yet Emma had not meant one fraction of what Lily had to him. She didn't warrant this terrible loneliness, this terrible unease, yet she was constantly in his thoughts.
He hid the old blue shirt she had worn in the bottom of his chest of drawers, he stopped having marmalade on his toast, and, when he walked along the towpath, he simply walked in the other direction towards the locks that climbed the hill. He took his books downstairs, to read in the front room instead of at his old desk. He wrote his notes at the kitchen table. It threw him into daily contact with his parents, but even that was better that the emptiness that waited for him upstairs.
Eventually his normal nature reasserted itself. Emma had been a brief, pleasant interlude to what would have otherwise been a dull and dismal summer. That she was gone was sad, but it was not the end of the world. He had coped when Lily had removed herself from his sphere, and he would cope without Emma. He didn't even know her real name; it was pointless imagining that their sudden friendship had been anything more profound than a lost girl and a lonely boy finding temporary solace in one another's company.
He would survive this as he had survived all else.
He took his books back upstairs and tidied his desk. As he reordered his hastily scribbled notes at his desk, a small, creased piece of parchment drifted free.
It was one of Emma's innumerable lists, the first one she had scribbled down with his old, chewed pencil. The pencil that he now kept in his pocket.
He glanced down at the neat columns.
Facts:
I am a witch – have a wand, can remember many spells.
Knew Tobias Snape's name even if I don't know him. He seems not to know me – could there be reason for him to lie?
Have read Hogwarts: A History at least once before or am else wise familiar with Hogwarts history.
People:
Albus Dumbledore – I am aware of Dumbledore, may even have met him, but feel disinclined to turn to him (why?). Perhaps a last resort?
Lily Evans – prejudiced against me (Sev?). Too close to James Potter. Awful sister.
James Potter – felt something when I saw him but his face is somehow wrong (TS). Not comfortable around him.
Eileen and Tobias Snape – unlikely to be of further help. Initially very generous in taking me in before finding I was a witch (ask Sev for possible thank you gift ideas?)
Miscellaneous:
Muggle world – am familiar with it which would suggest Muggle-born, but seems oddly quaint. Money odd. Maybe half-blood or well-travelled?
In my favour:
Wand.
9 Galleons, 8 Sickles and 3 Knuts.
Severus Snape.
The fact that she had listed him amongst her assets should have irritated him, but for some reason he felt strangely . . . not irritated.
In my favour – Severus Snape.
It was rather nice.
Her use of the name Sev made him uncomfortable. Hopefully she was just using shorthand; he had hated that awful nickname. His given name was one of the few truly wizarding things about him, named for a distant uncle who had been a favourite with his mother. Only Lily had been able to call him Sev without making him want to cringe.
He allowed himself one small moment of wistfulness before carefully folding the parchment and placing it in his pocket next to the pencil.
Although Emma was gone from his life, he owed it to her to try and help her in any way he could. He left his desk half tidied and crossed to the wardrobe, searching amid the old shoes at the bottom until he found the battered shoebox that contained what few possessions he had bothered to keep from before he started Hogwarts.
There, somewhere near the bottom, was his old Muggle library card.
-x-
Emma Jones had been a secret for almost as long as he had known her. Neither of his parents had mentioned her since the day he had led her to the bus stop on the high street. He was even careful not to think her name too clearly ever since she had disappeared the second time; although he had come to terms with the fact she wouldn't suddenly reappear it still had the power to hurt him, ever so slightly.
As such, it felt almost like a punch to the chest when his father casually dropped her name into the conversation.
"Did that Emma girl say she'd lost a bag?"
It was the first time either of his parents had mentioned Emma since that teatime nearly a fortnight ago; his father's sudden use of her name made him start. Severus kept his eyes on his book with a supreme effort and carefully controlled the level of interest that showed in his voice.
"I don't think so," he answered just as casually. "Why?"
Tobias Snape lifted a pink beaded bag in his gloved hand. His wife had finally prevailed upon him to clear the weeds away from the front door. "Found this outside, reckon it might be hers."
Severus examined the bag as carefully as he could from his side of the table. It was a small evening bag with pretty beaded detail across the front side. It didn't look like anything Emma would own, but its discovery just inches from where she had been found was unlikely to just be a coincidence. She hadn't mentioned having lost a bag, but there was a good chance it had simply been lost along with the majority of her memories.
"I did think your mother might like it, but I can't get the stupid thing open."
Severus held out his hand and awkwardly caught the bag as his father tossed it across the table. It was slightly soiled and damp from spending the last couple of weeks buried in the gutter, but it was still clearly an expensive accessory. There was no obvious magical signature to it, but there was always the chance that it had belonged to Emma. Severus sighed. "I'll see if I can get into it. If not, I think we still have that Emma girl's details somewhere."
He tried not to flinch at his own words, but dismissing Emma so casually seemed almost blasphemous.
His father didn't even notice. "Maybe we'll get a reward. Though the skinflints didn't give us anything for looking after their own daughter."
Examining the bag in his room, Snape came to the conclusion that it could not be opened, at least not without magic. This was enough to convince him it had belonged to Emma. It was also enough to make him wonder if she would return for it.
He pushed the feeling of tentative hope aside.
Emma's sudden appearance and sudden disappearance were no longer important. That he had briefly been caught up in the maelstrom of her life was no longer important. He had spent so much time wondering from whence she had come and whither she was headed that his homework had sat neglected in the corner of him room.
He had things to do.