11- Dead by Xmas
It was a habit Raven held dear, visiting Aunt Drusilla on Boxing Day. Aunt Drusilla was Mum's sister and she lived in the countryside with her husband, Uncle Horatio, a Muggleborn wizard.
Her grandparents- may they rest in peace; Raven's memory of them was already fading- were of very old though not very pure blood, and it had never bothered them that their two daughters had married a Muggleborn or a Muggle. They simply wanted them to be happy. In Slytherin house, however, such an attitude was frowned upon and the Marigolds were probably considered some of the worst blood traitors. But things were so much easier if you just forgot about the asininity of pure-blood supremacy that her fellow house-mates held so high.
Something was weird about their house that day, Raven thought, although she couldn't quite put a finger on what exactly it was. The lights were on, and yet the cottage appeared abandoned, desolate.
She walked up the gravelled path leading to her aunt's house, nervously fingering for her wand. But only when she noticed her Mum doing just the same, she knew for sure that there was something amiss.
Raven had never seen her mother act like that.
Drawing her wand in a casual gesture with one hand, Nigella signalled her husband to stay behind with the other. Cautiously, she approached the building.
Now that was probably the first and so far only moment in his marital life that Chris Lestrange hated being just a Muggle. A man- a husband and father- should be able to protect his family. Not the other way round.
Nigella pushed the door open. It was dangling on its hinges, but that was the only sign that something horrible might have happened. Nevertheless, it was a clear sign that the peace of this place had been violated.
Softly, she called her sister's name and when Drusilla didn't reply, she called even louder. There was no response. Nigella stepped inside.
"Stay behind!" She told her daughter... and then she stifled a horror-stricken sob.
Usually- or at least most of the time- Raven did what her mother told her. This time, however, her curiosity got the better of her and she followed Nigella inside.
At first glance, the living room looked like it always did, neat and tidy. The Christmas decorations were the same as every year...
"Fuck!" It was the first word that came to Raven's mind and probably there was no better one. She stood rooted to the spot, staring wide-eyed at the scenario in front of her. Whoever had arranged this must have a sick sense of humour, because Drusilla and Horatio were lying spread out on the floor like some overgrown dolls a child had grown tired of playing with. Their eyes were wide open as if caught by surprise, and yet they were neither awake nor sleeping. They were dead. As dead as a doornail. Dead eyes were staring into nothingness.
Now she understood her mother's stifled sob.
"Raven. Get out." Nigella's voice sounded raw and weary. She didn't want her daughter to see- no witch so young should have to witness a scene like that; no young girl should have to look into the ugly face of death.
But Raven stayed.
To an ignorant observer- the Muggle police, for example- it didn't even look like a crime scene at all. The expression on Aunt Drusilla and Uncle Horatio's faces was almost peaceful. A coroner would file his report and come to the conclusion that they died a natural death. Heart failure, a stroke- something like that. There was no blood, no gore to assume a crime had been committed here.
Nevertheless, that was exactly what had happened here. A horrible crime. Raven just knew her aunt and uncle had been murdered, and that was a fact. Hadn't there been an eerie glow upon the house when they arrived?
"Oh my god," her father whispered, standing aghast at the threshold. He had waited outside for a brief moment, merely long enough to make sure he would not run headlong into a magical combat with sparks flying all around, before following his two witches.
Now he stood there feeling helpless. He wanted to do something- anything. But was there anything you could really do in such a situation?
"Oh Chris," Nigella whispered and she cast a glance at him before she took a cautious step towards her sister.
Raven understood her mother's wish to touch her sister, to probably run her fingers through her hair and hope to wake her- to do whatever was necessary to make believe that this was just a bad dream instead of a horrible crime, that Drusilla would miraculously sit up and laugh about the really bad joke she'd been playing her sister...
But that wouldn't happen and Raven wasn't irrational enough to believe in miracles when the evidence was so obvious. Her aunt and her uncle were dead. There was nothing she or anyone else could do about it.
"Don't touch anything," she hissed, startling her mother. Perhaps she sounded very cool and controlled now, but she wasn't. Deep inside, she was a frightened, shocked young witch- just as shocked as her parents were. But she was also a Slytherin. Slytherins didn't act out of impulse, they used their brains and came up with an analytical approach of things. It was a trait that came in quite handy in stressful situations and, apparently, she possessed that trait. By telling herself she could still mourn her loss later- when there was time to allow all the pain and despair to take over, and replace that strange feeling of numbness within her- she was capable of thinking up what had to be done now.
"We have to call the Aurors." Raven concluded, surprised by lack of emotions in her voice.
"Yes. Yes." Nigella agreed, but she just stood there, looking around without the slightest clue what to do.
Chris walked up to her and placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. "Perhaps," he offered, rubbing her back when she flung her arms around him and buried her head in the crook of his neck, "you could do that trick with the greenish powder and the fireplace."
"No," Raven cut in. Of course, Firecalling the Aurors would have been an option although not the best one. Any attempt in doing that could possibly ruin a hint the Aurors might find. Not all of her Defence against the Dark Art teachers had been total dunderheads like Sev used to claim- one or two of them had actually been capable of imparting some basic knowledge to them. Well, and the rest of her defensive skills she had learned the hard way, thanks to the Marauders.
But was there any other way to alert the Aurors?
"Mum, can you call them without using the Floo Network?"
Surreptitiously, Nigella wiped the tears off her face before she turned to take a good glance at her daughter.
"Oh, my dear, dear girl. You really shouldn't be here..." She reached out to cup Raven's face in her warm and yet clammy hands, caressing her daughter's cheeks. "You shouldn't have to witness such horrible, horrible things. You're so very brave. And... yes, you are right. We have to alert Auror office."
But how? Raven wondered. She watched her mother hugging her father tightly- as if she was imbibing some kind of power or energy or whatever from that embrace, and when she turned around a little later, there was definitely something vibrant about her. Like a reloaded battery... although that comparison was badly flawed.
Nigella brandished her wand. A gleaming vapour of light shot from the tip of her wand... and faded into thin air. Then she tried it again and Raven watched in amazement how the cloud of light took on a form, the shape of a silvery raven, that soon whooshed up in the sky. An instant later, it was gone.
"What was that?" Raven couldn't help asking; after all, she was a very curious young witch and she loved it when her Mum did magic. Especially when it was of the kind you didn't usually get to see at Hogwarts.
"It's called a Patronus. The Patronus Charm. It's... um, advanced magic."
Despite the circumstances, Raven remembered to ask her Mum about that particular spell later as it seemed to be a mightily effective one; it took only about a minute until the soft pop of Apparation announced the arrival of a group of three Aurors.
Their leader was a battle-scarred wizard by the name of Alastor Moody. 'Mad-Eye' Moody he was called because he had lost an eye in fight and that had been replaced by a magical one, which was kind of scary. It seemed to move around independently from his normal eye.
"Constant Vigilance!" He shouted as a greeting, or just as a warning, while he hobbled closer to the crime scene- additional to his fake eye he also had a fake leg, a peg leg, that made thumping noises when he walked.
The Aurors didn't seem to do much. They waved their wands and mumbled some incantations that didn't seem to have the desired result. There was always more action involved when Kojak or Starsky and Hutch arrived at a crime scene- although Auror Moody reminded Raven a bit of Colombo. Of course, he wasn't smoking a cigar or wearing a trenchcoat, and Peter Falk's face didn't look like a madman had gone wild with a chisel on his face either, but there was definitely a certain similarity in their approach of things. Like Colombo, Mad Eye Moody seemed to be an attentive observer who wouldn't miss a single detail. On the other hand, the Auror radiated competence with every hobbling step he took, whereas Colombo- as brilliant a mind he was- appeared to be rather clumsy and doltish sometimes...
Since Raven had never been at a crime scene before, she could only compare her experience with what she's seen on TV, and she knew very well that such a comparison sucked.. But at least it helped her to counterbalance her emotions, to keep the all the pain and shock and anger she felt at bay.
And while Auror Moody listened with dispassionate interest to Nigella's report of how she had appeared at the crime scene and found the victims, his two subordinates came up with the clever idea that using the Memory Charm on the only Muggle around would be a very wise move at this particular state of investigation.
"Stop that!" Raven yelled, aiming her wand at the Auror who was the nearest to her father- had he really possessed the audacity to cast a Body-Bind curse on him, a helpless Muggle? Her mother was about to interfere but Raven beat her to it. "Let go of my dad, you imbecilic moron!"
Things could have gone awfully wrong at that point. The Aurors could have arrested Raven for threatening to use magic on them, because, as an underage witch, she wasn't legally allowed to cast spells at all. There was a moment of vigilant wariness on both sides, then Alastor Moody threw back his head and laughed out loud.
"Oh, she's a fierce one, isn't she?" Mad Eye chuckled amused, and a casual gesture of him was enough for his men to let go of Christopherus Lestrange. Then he focussed his magical eye on Raven again.
Involuntarily, she shuddered under his gaze and tried to avert her glance until it occurred to her that she hadn't done anything wrong. So she met his eyes evenly. He was scrutinizing her all over, from head to toe, but his strange magical orb seemed to look even deeper- as if he could see straight into her head, and that made her feel very uncomfortable because he was invading her privacy. And that was none of his business!
"Why don't you do your job and find the one responsible for the murder of my aunt and uncle?" She asked pointedly.
"You're a cheeky one, eh? A fierce and clever little witch- ever thought about becoming an Auror?"
To be honest, Raven had never considered that option when thinking about her future, but in face of today's events it was definitely an idea worth thinking over. "Well, apparently Auror Headquarters is in dire need of some capable aspirant to replace those dunderheads." She pointed at Mad Eye's subordinates, and the old, battle-scarred Auror laughed again. He smirked at her, which might have indicated he liked her. You just couldn't tell for sure when a face was as scarred as Moody's with his mad magical eye.
But liking Raven wasn't enough to solve the case, and a few days later the Aurors were still clueless about who had killed Aunt Drusilla and Uncle Horatio. The funeral was the day before New Year's eve, and the new year brought no new clues either. There were suspicions but no evidence. Mad Eye Moody blamed the Death Eaters, the followers of Lord Voldemort, especially when he found out that Horatio Taylor was a Muggleborn wizard and Ministry employee, married to a pure-blood witch. Still, there was no evidence to support his theory and soon the case was filed away like so many others in recent months. People- especially Muggleborn wizards and witches- disappeared without a trace or got killed in a mysterious way. Often the Killing Curse, Avada Kedavra, was used. It was one of the three Unforgivable Curses which resulted in a life sentence in Azkaban, because its primary mean was to kill quickly and efficiently. The victim simply dropped dead without showing any sign of violence- just like Aunt Drusilla and Uncle Horatio- and no biological reason could be found by Muggle forensic scientists.
In the days that followed the murder of her relatives, Raven stayed in her room most of the time, listening to her favourite records and keeping her mind busy with thoughts about actually becoming an Auror. Somehow, the idea appealed to her. It seemed to be a more significant task of life than taking pictures of Muggle bands on stage... although she could probably still do that and go to concerts in her spare time. She dreamed about finding a way to uncover the death of her aunt and uncle- it helped her to not drown in despair due to the loss, while at the same time she avoided her parents. She couldn't deal with her mother's tears, nor with her father's gingerly way of handling the situation in an attempt to keep the family together through grief and sorrow. It was a well-meant effort, but Raven only wanted to get away from them, and yet she mourned Drusilla and Horatio, too- in her very own way.
Raven yearned for a friend now. She longed to be with Sev. Just to be around him would make her feel better, and so she surprised her parents with her wish to return to Hogwarts some days earlier, before Christmas break was over.
They didn't like to see her leaving, but they didn't detain her either. Nigella and Christopherus Lestrange knew that they had to let her go her own way, even if it hurt- especially after the recent events.
So Raven took the Knight Bus back to Hogwarts.
It annoyed her tremendously that she couldn't just sneak into the Slytherin common room to have a quiet conversation with Severus. But no, news about her tragic loss had reached Hogwarts castle already, and therefore a consolation committee, consisting of Headmaster Dumbledore as well as the Professors Slughorn and McGonagall, was standing at the steps leading to the entrance hall to give her a warm welcome and loads of more attention than she was used to get from teachers. The Headmaster even offered her to visit him in her office if she needed to talk to someone. And although she was in need for someone, he definitely wasn't her first choice. She wanted Severus. He was her friend- whereas Dumbledore had never given a damn about her until now.
Raven had to endure a seemingly endless time before the pathetic condolence party was over and she could finally make her way to the Slytherin common room. Sev was sitting in a comfortable armchair by the fire, his large nose stuck in a book. It was a sight that made her heart ache for him and she realized once more how much she loved that scrawny, dark-haired, not all too handsome boy. But while others- namely Potter and his miscreants, the Marauders- called him names and insulted him for being unattractive, she only saw how wonderful he truly was. There was beauty in the way he sat there reading, his long, slender limbs all folded very elegantly in a comfortable position by the fire; its flickering flames cast a healthy shade on his usually pale, sallow skin.
He looked up, then, surprised to see her back at Hogwarts when it was still two days until the end of Christmas break. Immediately he noticed that something was wrong; she seemed to be distressed and a bit lost. Nevertheless, the ghost of a smile flickered over her face, which was paler than usual.
"What's up?" He asked, sounding almost soft.
Raven just shrugged. She felt drained from Dumbledore's long monologue- to which she'd hardly listened- and strangely numb inside. She wasn't in the mood to talk now. All she wanted was to be close to Severus.
"Can I... may I just sit with you?"
There was definitely something wrong with her because usually she didn't ask but sat down next to him anyway. Almost out of instinct he stirred and moved to make room for Raven, who accepted this with another little smile. Instead of jabbering away like she usually would have done, she remained oddly quiet.
He thought about trying to use Legilimency on her to find out what was amiss. Then he decided against it. It didn't seem the right thing to do... all of a sudden he realized that she'd come to him looking for solace, and at first, he felt slightly overtaxed with the situation. There hadn't been much comforting at his home, and with Lily- well, whenever she was upset, sad or distressed (very often because of Petunia) she blamed him. She would seek his reassurance but not his comfort, and probably she was right in doing so since he had absolutely no experience in that. It's a thing for the weak, he told himself, to weep and moan and pity themselves- but on the other hand he also felt flattered... no, that wasn't the right word... more like touched... that someone would actually come to him, rely on him in a matter he was not adept in and just wanted to be close to him. If only he knew what to do now.
And then everything was quite easy, actually. Raven waited for a moment- waited for him to react- before she simply took his arm and wrapped it around her shoulder, snuggling up to him.
Tentatively, he allowed his hand to rub her arm in small, soothing circles, hoping she wouldn't drench him in tears now. She didn't. She didn't start blubbering like most girls would, but then again Raven Lestrange wasn't just like any girl. She remained quiet. Perhaps she cried a few silent tears, but Severus hardly noticed that, because he realized what a nice feeling it was to hold the soft and warm body of a witch in his arms. It also caused quite an embarrassing stir in certain regions of his body he didn't want to think about now, because those were inappropriate thoughts. It had nothing to do with what he felt about Lestrange- they were friends and he liked her quite a lot. It was just the physical reaction of an adolescent wizard whose body discovered its needs. He didn't love her. He loved Lily. And yet, he wished Lily would want to be as close to him as Raven was now, that she would come seeking solace in his arms. He didn't even seem to be a total failure at conveying comfort because apparently it worked with Raven... although he hadn't done anything.
"Thanks," she mumbled some time later as she rubbed her eyes. They were still a bit puffy but her smile was brighter now. The world seemed to be a much brighter place when Severus was around and his proximity was what she had needed. Also, it was a very nice feeling to be in his arms, cuddled up close to him. "You really are a good friend. My best friend."
Severus arched a surprised brow at her and swallowed hard. Not many people called him a friend- let alone best friend. He was still unpopular at Hogwarts, even within his own house. Mulciber and Avery claimed he was their friend when they wanted something from him, but it sounded different when Raven said it. More sincere. And he realized that there really was some honest friendship between them. She was the only one who would openly side up with him when the Marauders bullied him so that it wasn't always a four on one situation. The formerly pathetic, fat little girl who wanted to be a Squib because she was scared of her own wand, had grown into quite a pretty young witch, perfectly capable of standing her own ground.
He actually enjoyed spending time with her- it was a difficult thing to confess though, considering the hierarchy in Slytherin house and his desire to rise within the ranks of his peers. They would have taunted him if they could see him now, cuddling with Raven Lestrange.
What had thrown her so out off track that she needed his comfort? he wondered, but before Severus could ask again she already started to spill her story.
"My aunt and uncle got killed at Christmas," Raven began.
"Oh... um... I guess my condolences is in order..." he wasn't good at that and he knew it. "What happened?"
She told him everything, every little detail she could still remember, and by talking about it, the whole horrible situation became so much easier to handle. Especially when he appreciated her cool, controlled attitude, and it sounded like a rare praise coming from his lips.
But then she concluded, "I guess it were the followers of that Lord Voldemort. His Death Eaters. Mad-Eye Moody, the Auror, said so."
Severus didn't want to hear any of that. Lord Voldemort stood for the superiority of pure-blooded wizards and witches over Muggles, that much was true- but they wouldn't go and kill just any witch only because she was married to a Muggleborn, would they? As far as he understood, they were more or less a political group.
"Is there any proof to your theory?"
"No, but it cannot be a coincidence that so many Muggles or Muggleborns got killed or disappeared since Voldemort started his campaign against them, proclaiming the superiority of pure-bloods."
"Slytherin house stands for blood superiority since the day Hogwarts was founded, and you can't accuse all Slytherins of being a bunch of cold-blooded murderers only because they got Sorted into Slytherin." Severus sounded irked now; he dreaded this conversation ending like so many arguments he had with Lily.
Raven, however, took his hand in hers and rubbed it gently to dispel his worries. "That's not what I was saying, Sev, and you know it. Remember, I'm the history geek. There have always been Dark wizards or witches, no matter from which house. It's just like there are good Muggles and bad Muggles." She shrugged. "Probably it lies in the nature of mankind itself, that some choose a dark path to whatever they wish to achieve without caring for the corpses that pave their way.
"I mean, isn't it sort of telling that Voldemort's followers are called the Death Eaters? Doesn't that name indicate that they're not only tolerating but actively supporting the death of non-believers to their pure-blood propaganda? If it were all about the joys of eating they could have chosen a tastier name- like... like Pizza Eaters or something like that."
Severus chuckled. Now that was a logic only Raven could come up with. And as much as he hated to admit, it also held a grain of truth and wasn't completely absurd. But still, he didn't want to hear any of that. Joining the ranks of Lord Voldemort was his only chance to leave the Muggle dunghill called Spinner's End behind, to gain fame and fortune and finally, he hoped, Lily's heart.
When he didn't answer, Raven continued. "I thought it over thoroughly these past days and I came to the conclusion that I want to become an Auror."
His eyes widened startled. For the fraction of a moment his heart seemed to stop because he didn't want to lose her, and then he wondered why that thought had ever occurred to him if it was really all about a political group.
She squeezed his hand, holding on to him as if looking for support, an anchor in these rough times. "There are still so many questions that need to be answered. I want to know the reason and I hate the idea that I might never find out. The Aurors seem to be quite incompetent, except for Mad Eye Moody- Severus, will you help me to pass my Potions OWLs so that I get the chance to become a better Auror than them?"
He nodded yes. It was almost impossible to deny her request if she looked at him with those sad blue eyes that usually reminded him of the summer sky. Severus wished she would smile again... because she was his friend and because it had felt so nice to hold her in his arms.
"You are quite capable in Potions, Lestrange, if you follow your instinct instead of the textbook. I am certain you will pass your OWLs and I'll help you to achieve your goal."
Ah, there was that smile again. It wasn't as sweet as Lily's- it didn't make his heart ache- but it wasn't as rare either. Lestrange always seemed to find a reason to smile at him, and somehow he liked that. He liked the way she called him her best friend and how things were always so much... easier... with her, compared to the often difficult and strained relationship he had with Lily.
Raven hugged him- again, that was a typical thing for her to do whereas Lily was definitely more reserved in displaying affection.
"Thanks, Sev." Her mood brightened up a little more but she didn't want to push her luck too far. They were friends. Nothing more and nothing less- although he was definitely the most wonderful friend she could think of, and she wouldn't want to ruin that by following her instincts now... only because a delirious voice in her head screamed for a kiss. Of course she would have loved to kiss him, but she also knew that that wasn't a very wise idea. At least not at the moment. So she changed the topic. "Anyway, talking about pizza- I could use something to eat now."
Dumbledore had offered her some sherbet lemons, which she had rejected. The whole situation in his office had been weird, bordering to absurd, with the headmaster acting as sort of a wise uber-grandfather, all long white hair and beard. His eyes had twinkled while feigning compassion for a Slytherin he usually didn't care much about. Perhaps she should have told him that she considered becoming an Auror- he might have been thrilled to hear that not all Slytherins were lost to darkness the minute they got Sorted.
"You'll have to wait till breakfast." Severus realized he was hungry, too. He had missed dinner because he had been reading all day and now it was much too late to get any food. But he was used to going to bed with a rumbling stomach.
"Well, we could go to the kitchens," Raven suggested.
"It's past curfew. We cannot-"
"Oh, methinks we can. Sev, it's still Christmas break. Do you actually believe that dear old Sluggy patrols the dungeons on a night like this? Isn't it a much more conceivable idea to imagine him sitting in his rooms, stuffed with crystallised pineapple, drinking a good bottle of elf-made wine- probably a Christmas present from Potter's dad?"
True, Severus thought, perfectly capable of envisioning that scene. Nevertheless, he didn't even know where the Hogwarts kitchens were or how to get there.
Raven stood and extended her hand to him. "Come on."
For a brief moment, he was wavering. Uncertain whether to take her hand or not, weighing the consequences Wasn't it a stupid thing to do? He wondered. But then again, nobody was watching him. He could give in to his curiosity and that won in the end.
Immediately, he felt sort of engulfed in that special spell of hers that made others not notice her. And while he could see her clearly, their surroundings appeared somewhat blurred... as if looking through a big bubble. A big pink bubblegum bubble (not that he had ever looked through one)
Her notice-me-not spell was almost as good as an invisibility cloak. He wished he could do that trick and simply disappear when the Marauders were hard on his heels, trying to hex him, or- and that was a much more satisfying idea- if he could sneak up to them, unseen, and hex them into oblivion. Or get them expelled.
Alas, that special spell of hers seemed to work only for her. She had tried to teach him but to no avail. Probably it was because pink bubblegum bubbles were a very girlish thing that didn't work for wizards.
Silently they walked the dimly lit corridors of the dungeons, which were empty and quiet. After a few turns they came to a painting on the wall; it showed a bowl of fruit. Raven reached out her hand to actually tickle a painted pear... and although there was nothing in the wizarding world that could surprise Severus anymore, he noticed with strange bewilderment that the pear started giggling.
"I watched Slughorn doing that once." Raven informed him with a smile on her face as the pear turned into a door handle. "Although they call me fat crow, I was never so desperate in need of food that I would have found a way to the kitchens all by myself. Professor Walrus however couldn't wait till dinner that day but had to sneak into the kitchens after class."
Probably he should have said something nice or complimentary about her shape now, that she was definitely not a fat little girl anymore. He just didn't seem to find the right words. After all, Raven wasn't Lily- not that he would have managed to find the right words then.
Then the door swung open and they both stared at Peeves, the Poltergeist, holding a young elfling in mid-air by its ankles. The little one wailed but Peeves just laughed and swung it like pendulum.
"Let go of the elf! Immediately!" Raven yelled and added threateningly, "Or do you want me to call the Bloody Baron?"
The Bloody Baron, the house ghost of Slytherin, was the only being that Peeves actually feared.
"Ooooh, the fat crow is friends with ghosts, because no living soul wants to talk to her!" He blew a raspberry at Raven, but let go of the elfling. It would have crashed to the hard stone floor if not for Severus, who had chosen to side with Raven in a rare gesture of friendship, to underline that he was a living soul and her friend. Almost instinctively he opened his arms for the unfortunate elfling to land softly, while Peeves snickered and chanted, "Snivellus found himself a girlfriend! Snivellus found himself a girlfriend! Attention, ladies and gentlemen! Here comes Fat and Greasy," imitating Potter's voice, and at the same time the elfling turned huge, violet eyes at its saviour and whispered awestruck, "Master!"
Apparently, Severus had just got adopted by an house-elf.. "Um..." he mumbled, not knowing quite what to do with the elfling in his arms, which was still eyeing him adoringly. He glanced at Raven, looking for help, but she just started giggling. Then her stupid giggling turned to laughter, and she laughed so hard that she almost toppled over, clutching her own midriff.
First, he thought she was laughing about him, and that didn't sit well with him. For a brief moment, Severus was offended, even feeling betrayed due to her behaviour, but then he realized how ridiculous this whole situation really was. Especially when he noticed that he was now standing in a crowd of house-elves, all looking up to him in fearful anticipation. It seemed as if each and every house-elf of Hogwarts had gathered around Raven and him, and that was definitely not what he had expected when all he ever wanted was to get a late night snack.
Then, one of the elves stepped forward and started to bang its head on the floor, begging for mercy while wringing its hands. "Oh woe! Woe is me! Please, please, dear master, not punish Pinkie. It is Poldi its only offspring. Only a little elfling and Pinkie not knows. Pinkie not knows appropriate ways of house elves and behaviour."
Raven stopped laughing. One last snorting sound escaped her lips as she hurried to stop the elf from hurting itself even more, while the elfling Severus was still holding in his arms wrapped its scrawny arms around his neck, purring contentedly, "Master, my master. Pinkie found itself a master," into his ear. It sounded as if that wiry little something had been on a quest for all of its life and finally found what it's been looking for. A person it could serve, for it was in the house-elves' nature to serve somebody.
Meanwhile, Raven had managed to sooth the distressed mother of that elfling. She seemed to know quite well how to handle them, and Severus wondered where she had learned that. Most definitely her parents didn't own a house elf since they were a mixed couple- Muggle and witch- and he couldn't possibly imagine his Muggle father to ever accept such a creature in his house.
But Raven surprised him again. While they were having a late night snack of sandwiches made by the eager house-elves, enjoying a freshly brewed cup of tea, she told him about Tweety and how her mother had found an abandoned elfling on a cold winter's night some years ago. It surely would have died out there in the cold, and probably that had been the very intention of whoever had left it there, almost buried in a heap of snow. Apparently, some wizarding families didn't approve to their house-elves procreating unless they ordered them to do so.
"What about your father?" He couldn't help asking since the very idea that his own damnable Muggle father would've ever accepted such a weird magical being into his household was too absurd to even give it a second thought.
"Oh, Dad loves Tweety. But he set some rules she has to obey to. First, she has to be properly dressed and that means clothes. Second, she has to accept payment for her efforts and is not allowed to hurt herself... well, and third, she is not allowed to answer the door- ever- because it might be just the Muggle postman ringing , and it would be too tedious to Obliviate him each and every day. It's also not very healthy..."
They were sipping their tea in companionable silence, munching the sandwiches that the house-elves served them to bribe them, and although no words were spoken and no definition necessary, they both knew that they were friends. Good friends. Maybe not as close as almost lovers, but definitely close enough to enjoy that very moment.
Thanks to my lovely betas, hypnotic ink and Alabaster Princess.
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