Chapter 7
DISCLAIMER - None of these delightful characters are mine, all belong to JK Rowling.
"I assure you, Severus, she has no knowledge of it," Professor Dumbledore steepled his fingers under his chin, regarded his grim colleague earnestly.
"And I assure you, Headmaster, that she must," Snape returned acerbically.
"Somebody talked to Lovegood about that prophesy. And since he conveniently vanished completely and totally before publishing it, it is a safe assumption that she told someone else of it. Someone who wants it badly enough to hunt an eleven years old child to get it."
Snape glared determinedly at the older wizard, his fingers curled in his palms, a pulse in his temple fluttering.
"Sybil Trelawney is an accidental seer. She does not remember the fugue states she experiences when she has a real vision. Whatever she told Xenophilius, she did not do so consciously," Dumbledore insisted.
"Then the question is, who else has she been talking to, consciously or otherwise?" Snape bit off the words.
Dumbledore nodded in agreement.
"So it seems. I will talk with Sybil, Severus. I feel that she may be more forthcoming that way."
Snape's eyes flashed. A way that did not involve a generous dose of veritas serum, in other words.
"Despite your confidence that my past might shield her, the girl is not safe, not while we fumble around with no clue as to who it is that hunts her," he said.
"I wondered when the old danger would rear its head. I feel it has begun," the Headmaster said, sombre and sad.
"There is no doubt," Snape's words were stark, his eyes leaden as he spoke them.
"And one so young before such a threat. How is Miss Lovegood coping, Severus?"
"Miss Lovegood is young but by no means a sapling destined to break before the first hard wind, Headmaster," Snape replied truthfully and with a touch of pride in his tone that he hadn't exactly intended.
"A remarkable girl. But it would be easy to be deceived by the air of self containment. She is a child, Severus and this is an extraordinarily difficult time for her," Dumbledore's azure eyes were pensive.
"She is a damnable nuisance, that is what she is," Snape grimaced.
"She has turned my home into a veritable museum of madcap, worthy of any discount joke shop. She holds conversations with stray animals as if talking to an old friend and preserve us all if she gets the ear of a house elf. Since this latest incident, she has been giving me the gimlet eye for having the temerity to tell her off," Snape's lips tightened.
He caught the unspoken question in his superior's eyes.
"I haven't so much as raised my voice to her!" he said shooting a withering look at the other man.
"Severus, your wrath is often a force that takes some reckoning," Dumbledore rose a silver brow over the glinting half moon spectacles.
"Believe me, if she had experienced my wrath, she would be nursing more than a little indignation!"
Dumbledore's eyes glinted at him.
"It is difficult, is it not, to resist mellowing somewhat in the company of one so good hearted?."
The younger man rose and turned towards the door, sparing Dumbledore a look that would have blistered metal.
"Good afternoon, Headmaster." An eddy of the deepest sable and he was gone.
A sharp pop announced his arrival at Spinner's End. The sound of his apparating drew Luna into the hallway, where she greeted him with a perplexed look.
"What is it?" he asked, suddenly keenly alert.
"There is someone here to see you. A ministry official. He's been waiting awhile," she said.
The news cast a hostile frown on his features. He made to open the living door but she gripped his sleeve.
"He's asked some questions about Dad but Severus, he's been asking a lot about the break in here," she said softly, a confused little frown of her own playing on her face.
"Strange that as he's quite vague about how he knows about it," she added in that faraway little way.
He lifted an eyebrow, impressed at her observation.
"Let's see about that, shall we?" this time, he opened the door and moved into the room ahead of the girl, a fleeting look of surprise in his eyes when Barty Crouch Snr rose from a chair,.
A melancholy and severe looking man, he was clutching his hat in front of him, dressed, impeccably as always in a pinstriped suit, remarkably conservative even by muggle standards.
"Professor Snape," he inclined his head in a stiff little bow.
"Mr. Crouch. To what do we owe the honour?" Snape did not take the hand that the suited man held towards him.
"The Ministry is most concerned at Xenophilius' long absence, of course. And to hear of the trouble you had here on top of that. I was in the area and thought a call would be in order," Mr. Crouch lifted a hand and with his thumb and forefinger, smoothed the thin moustache on his upper lip, a habitual gesture.
"Dear, dear, have we forgotten that our days as head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement are behind us?" Snape intoned lazily and Luna saw the already chill gaze of the official grow colder yet.
"Or has a bit of amateur burglary become a global issue warranting the attention of the Department of International Magical Co-operation?" the Professor sounded mildly surprised. Crouch's thin face seemed to sink upon itself.
"Professor, the Ministry takes any act of criminality seriously," Crouch said punctiliously.
"Your reputation alone is enough to persuade me. No danger of Azkaban going empty while you had the say in it."
It was Snape's turn to set a glacial look upon his guest. Something silent and yet furious, hate filled passed between them. Luna watched as the visitor took a step towards the door, splotches of colour on his prominent cheek bones. Before he crossed the threshold, he stopped turned back to the Professor, who had not moved at all.
"You say this was an amateur attempt? Nothing valuable taken?"
"Only my pride, Barty," Snape's lip curled.
The discussion was clearly at an end and Mr. Crouch moved to the door and replaced his hat. Then he looked down at Luna who had been half shielded behind Snape's back.
"Do not hesitate to contact the Ministry at any time, my dear. The absence of your father must take it's toll on you. It is good to have a refuge you can trust," Crouch said.
"Oh yes. But I have all of that here. But thank you," Luna replied, polite as ever but her eyes looked to her guardian, gratitude bright in her face.
"If only Mr. Lovegood had acquainted himself with the responsibilities of fatherhood, we might not be in this unfortunate situation," Crouch shook his head.
"Be careful, Crouch," Snape spoke softly but there was steel beneath the velvet of his tone.
With a curt little bow in her direction, the man was gone. Alone with Snape, Luna sank into the chair Crouch vacated.
"He thinks dad abandoned me," she sounded sad, unusually disillusioned. Snape did not say anything, he did not need to, it wasn't a question.
"Sometimes I think that it would be better if he had. At least I'd know he was out there somewhere. But I don't think he's coming back, Severus."
Her face was turned so that she was looking at the empty grate. He saw her blink, once, twice, again and realised that she was driving back tears. He had never seen her cry, not ever and this struck him now as odd for a child who had experienced such upheaval in such a short space of time.
"Mr. Crouch is a bitter man. Not someone whose first thought would be of reuniting families. He came here for something but it was not to show concern for your father," Severus wished he could tell her that her fears were misplaced, that Crouch's suspicions were likely so, that Xenophilius had simply taken off.
"Whatever has happened, we will find the truth. That is all I have to offer you," he said instead.
She looked up at him, no trace of the tears she had banished.
"Are you still angry with me, Severus?"
"And this would trouble you, young lady?"
"It was wrong, not telling you about the page. But it would trouble me a lot to think I have lost your friendship because of it," her gaze was level.
His eyes glinted. Students in his house had quaked at the very idea of falling foul of his temper for as long as he had been teaching. But no-one had ever fretted for the loss of his friendship. This foundling child surprised him and none before ever could.
"Perhaps a little. I am not a tolerant man, as I believe we have established. But I am not going to turn my back on you over one mistake," he sighed.
"My apology is all I have to offer you," she quoted his own words back to him.
"Then I accept, Luna. We will move on,"
"Yes," she looked resolute.
Merlin's beard, she sounded as though it was she letting him off the hook. His lips lifted in a tight smile.
"So we are friends are we?" he stared at her down the length of his hooked nose.
A small frown played on her face.
"I am not entirely sure. I haven't had many friendships to compare against."
Her honesty was stark and humbling and Snape could not think how to rightly process it.
"Unless you count Hagrid. And the house elves I met at Hogwarts, of course," Luna continued unaware.
Something tumbled in Snape's mind. Barty Crouch had not called here out of concern, he had his own motive and there just might be a way of discovering it.
"Miss Lovegood, I think that it is time we did some socialising of our own. Mr. Crouch was good enough to pay us a visit, the least we can do is return the call," he said.
She looked disconcerted.
"I didn't think you liked him very much. I know I didn't."
A mirthless glint sparked in the shadowy depths of his eyes.
"If I confined myself to people I actually like, I would be a hermit!"
"Leave it to me, I need to think a little about this and then, Luna, you and I shall do the polite thing and pay our new friends a call," he nodded decisively.
"You are a very difficult person to make out," Luna said, sounding not at all disturbed by the fact.
He snorted a laugh and shot her a look that was close to gleeful as she had seen him get.
"My dear, they say I am an open book!" he said, strolling to the stairs. Already, his mind was whirring. The time had come, it seemed give his social diary a good airing but before tripping up the Crouch's front path, he had an old friend to see.
The following morning, he was preparing to leave Spinner's End just after breakfast, when a whoosh announced the arrival of the post. He didn't delay, he was not expecting anything of import, a few orders for his potions store ahead of the new term, at most. He had somewhere he needed to be.
Then, Luna appeared at the door, her face white, her expression clouded. His brows drew together.
"What is it now?" he clipped.
Her hand trembled a bit as she extended a rectangle envelope to him. Snape felt the first stirring of unease. The child looked ill.
He took the envelope, looked down, saw her name written in a distinct flowing cursive he recognised at once.
"This is your letter, Luna. From Hogwarts," he spoke as though to a muggle. Shouldn't she have been expecting it?
"Yes. Of course. I knew that," she took the envelope back, cradled it against her front but made no move to open it.
Severus shook his head. There was no understanding this one.
"I have to go. I will not be late. Have a read of that, make a list of what you need, we will discuss it when I come home."
A pop and he was gone. So, Luna stood in the empty hallway, clutching the unopened letter and feeling as though the earth was spinning far faster than she could stand.
The feeling had not abated by the fall of evening when the Professor returned. They shared supper but it was a silent meal, her guardian was preoccupied in his own thoughts. Luna's letter sat on the mantlepiece, after a quick perusal earlier, she had placed it there, where it sat like a ticking bomb ever since. She focused now instead on the food on her plate and tried to force all thoughts of it from her head.
For his part, Snape was unsure whether the day had yielded satisfactory detail or not. Malfoy Manor was as grandiose as he remembered, and as devoid of personal warmth. He was received there by patriarch of the Malfoy family, his welcome as brittle as crystal in the chandaliers that lit the massive drawing room where he was shown after his arrival.
"Severus. How good of you to call on us. Of course, you must have lot of spare time, now with all the holidays from teaching," Lucius had regarded him carefully, playing the game, waiting.
"Then again, from what I hear, Dumbledore has you putting in some overtime this summer. I hope he is paying you well for the out of hours child care," man's glacial blue eyes were alight but not with humour.
"What would you suggest as an alternative? A nice rest in Azkaban? We each of us are doing what we must to get on with things, since the Dark Lord's untimely fall, Lucius. You do not seem to be suffering too badly," Severus rose one sleek eyebrow, indicated with a quick flick of his eyes the elegant surroundings.
The other man shrugged, his platinum hair framing the aristocratic set of his face.
"As you say, Severus. We do what we must."
"I am not going to going to waste your time, Lucius. Barty Crouch. Why would he turn up at my home?"
Malfoy's surprise was instant and pure. His lips twisted as though he had tasted something bitter.
"Be careful, Severus. If he is visiting you personally, I assume that his lust to send high profile wizards to Azkaban has not been sated. He may not have his position but the taste for it seem to have stuck with him," Malfoy's face hardened.
"His taste for it was all he ever had. The man condemned his own son," Severus inclined his head, fixing a thoughtful look on his face.
"His wife has never forgiven him, they say. Driven half mad by the grief. She hasn't left the house in years. Her health is gone, I hear. So, he rattles around in their house, playing at being a Ministry official each day, hating the world even more than he ever did," Malfoy gazed out the window, his voice untouched by emotion of any kind.
"And junior? As I remember, the boy was nothing short of - maniacal in his devotion to the Dark Lord," Severus went on.
His blond companion sneered.
"Maniacal? The attention starved antics of a spoiled brat hardly apsire to the idea, Severus. Poor litle rich boy with Daddy issues looking for a way to rebel, that was Barty Junior. And daddy showed him what he thought of that. Packed him off to Azkaban before you could say black magic," still, Lucius Malfoy spoke as though discussing the vagaries of the weather.
Snape digested the information and deftly turned the conversation to Malfoy's own son. The boy was due to start Hogwarts in a matter of days, his letter had also arrived that morning.
For the remainder of his visit, Severus had listened sympathetically as Lucius outlined his woes at the low standards of Albus Dumbledore and how if it wasn't for the assurance of having a few solid influences such as Snape's own, he could not contemplate sending his son to Hogwarts.
In reflection, he supposed the visit had gleaned him some of what he wanted to know. Barty Crouch still bore a vendetta against Voldemort's old guard and his son still languished in Azkaban. How that explained Crouch's call to his home, he did not know. Neither could he work out or how it related to the break in or to Sybil Trelawney and the Potter Prophesy, or to Lovegood's disappearance but though the threads stayed maddening disparate, he knew they were connected. Finding out how, well, that was the next thing.
His circling thoughts made him feel tired, drained his appetite and he glanced up, realising at last that the small girl on the other side of the table was still hunched over her plate and she had not spoken a word throughout the meal.
He said nothing, he watched her eat, though if asked to guess, he would have said she was tasting none of the food.
"Whatever it is, best tell me, Luna," he said.
She looked over at him, as though surprised to find him there.
"You are tired," she said, that jarring insight of hers appearing from nowhere to contradict the dreamy lull she exuded.
"Never mind that. You look like you found a knut and lost your broomstick. What's wrong?"
In repsonse, she stood up and walked to the fireplace, retrieved her Hogwarts letter and handed it to him.
He glanced at it and fixed his eyes on her. She sat back down, clasped her fingers in her lap and chewed her lip. He waited, he had neither the patience or the disposition to coax the problem from her.
"There's a lot on that list. I didn't ever think about that. I had it in my head that Dad would be back," she began.
"It's not easy, I know that. But term begins in days and you are starting at Hogwarts. I am quite sure your father will be very proud of you," Snape could not think of much by way of comfort. How was he to find the words to make her feel better about meeting one of life's milestones without her parent?
"Yes. It's just that I don't know how to get the money. I know Dad has some at Gringotts. The Quibbler does quite well, you know and he is the editor. But I have no idea how to get it, how to pay for all of it," she flapped her hands and went back to chewing her lip.
Snape's hand came down on the table with a resounding whack, startling the girl and himself, truth be told.
He was on his feet before he recovered and advancing towards the girl, his face set in severe and unrelenting lines.
"How dare you, you little imp!" he glowered at her, his eyes flashing.
She looked up at him, silenced by the outburst.
He reached out, took her shoulders in his hands and shook her. He ignored the fright in her eyes and dragged her to her feet.
"You ungrateful girl! You insult me with talk of money! This, this is what has you moping around here all day? What do you think? I will send you to school in sackcloth and Googlehoffs?"
She blinked, opened her mouth but no words came out. He let her go and presented her with his back.
"I.. I really did not think about it. It's not fair for you….." Too late, Luna realised that she was making things much worse and her words petered out.
"I'll tell you what I shall do, then. Make out a list of all your costs and expenditure and I shall bill your father for it when he turns up. He can settle with me out of the Gringotts account, every last sickle," he spun to face her, his eyes ablaze with naked anger.
Luna was stunned. She stood and stared into his furious features, her mind utterly blank.
And suddenly Luna felt as though her eyes had gone on fire. She blinked to dispel the unpleasant sensation, hardly registering the tears that escaped her lashes to trail down her cheeks.
The sight of her tears acted like ice water on the blaze of Snape's temper. For one thing, she looked so hopeless, standing there, desperately unhappy and for another, her crying was so uncharacteristic, he was brought up completely.
In fact, neither one seemed to know exactly what to make of it. Luna lifted a hand and swiped at the moisture on her face, not altogether sure how it had gotten there.
"What are you crying for?"
It was all he could think to say.
She looked as though her whole world was about to come undone. Real torment played on her face and pain welled up in the tears that swam unshed in her eyes.
"I have offended you. Severus. I am sorry. I hurt you."
He had said something similar to her once. It had been true and he had felt very sorry for it.
He looked at her and saw that she believed herself the guilty one now. And he was completely mortified to recognise that she was crying because of it.
He expelled a long breath slowly and crossed his arms over his chest.
"It's my ego that's been wounded, nothing more," he sighed.
He might have laughed at the idea of this little wraith of a girl hurting him, as though a snowflake could harm the stone upon which it fell. But he did not. Those were real tears on her face, the first he had ever seen her cry and they were for him. The child had come through a veritable storm in her life, held her emotions under a stoic command but came undone at the idea of causing him affront. Was there any way of comprehending what went on inside that female mind?
Still misery poured from her, silent and deep and with every tear, Severus felt a burning desire for the ground to simply open and swallow him whole. This was uncharted and frankly, hostile territory to him. Children often cried before him, the ire of the Potions Master was a dread prospect for students, he staked his reputation upon it. This was different, this was not bringing a disorderly dunderhead of a Gryffindor to heel or instilling a little due respect into a boisterous Huffelpuff. This felt like taking a sledgehammer to a butterfly.
"I didn't mean to offend. I am sorry," she said again.
"Forget it. I have had a long day. Perhaps, I am grouchy and out of sorts. I should not have snapped at you," he gave her a look that he hoped was reassuring. He was contemplating giving her a calming draught just to make her stop with the tears when she sniffled loudly.
Presently, she found a neatly folded handkerchief before her eyes and took it gratefully from his fingers.
"Stop that, now. There's no need for all this. I am a big boy, Luna. I do not bruise as easily as all that," he said gruffly.
He rested a hand on the top of her head, gently ruffling the sunshine strands of her hair beneath his fingers.
She dried her face with his handkerchief, that he carried one was an old time refinement that she liked the idea of and then she pocketed it.
"I was rude to you. I apologise, Severus. The letter, I wasn't prepared for it, that was all," she said at last.
"Change can catch us all out that way, love," he said, looking down into her damp eyes, his face set but in the serious expression he always wore, the anger of before was gone.
"So here is what I propose we do. Tomorrow I will take you to Diagon Alley, we will buy what you need for school. When your Dad turns up, he and I will work out the practicalities. For now, let's just concentrate on what we must," he said.
"A one day at a time, sort of deal," Luna said appreciatively.
He chuckled.
"Just so,"
"Rabbles only live for one day. All that flying about and making people's hair stand on end and it's over in just one day. Did you know that?"
"Welcome back," he said with a smirk.
She didn't catch his meaning. Instead, she looked up at him, her expression clearing as though a spell had been cast on her.
"So I get to spend the day with you tomorrow?" she asked.
"Yes," he nodded down at her, his head reeling to see the glad look on her face. He was starting to feel as though he had been running a long distance and it might be as well to sit down.
He mustered his expression, his eyes free of emotion and his brows meeting in a forbidding glare.
"And that will teach you better than to get my back up again!" he growled.
"I think that was a joke?" she looked up at him carefully but was met with silence.