Chapter 32: The Persistence of Memory
A/N: January 9 is Professor Snape's birthday, so I suggest that you celebrate by indulging in your favorite treat and/or beverage. I'm certainly going to.
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As soon as the boat was properly under way Severus ducked into his cabin to look at whatever Mick Bletchley had magically slipped into his pocket. It proved to be a scroll. He unrolled it and a note fell out. It said: Your codename is Onyx. It was signed Golden Girl, Shadow, and friends.
That must be Marigold, Mick and the others, he thought. And they're using codenames. What childish nonsense! Then he remembered calling himself the Halfblood Prince for a year or two. "Well, students will be students, I suppose," he muttered.
The scroll was blank, but not for long. He tapped it with his wand, whispered "Aparecium", and saw that he was holding Issue No. 1 of The Slytherin Sentinel. It was dated October 1998. It featured the Slytherin crest at the top and was bordered by intertwined snakes and dragons. The text said:
Welcome to all Slytherins, both young and old, and Slytherin sympathizers, too! This newsletter aims to keep all of us in touch, providing up-to-date information and promoting discussion in these difficult times. To protect your privacy, we're assigning everyone a code name. Yours should be included with this issue. If you want to change it, just let us know.
What do you think of the way McGonagall closed all four Houses and invented four phony new ones to "end discrimination"? We all know that her real objective was to end Slytherin House!
We want you to write and tell us how you feel about it. Do you want to let the House die, or should we try to keep it alive? Have you suffered discrimination? Where were you and what were you doing during the battle? Let us know, and we'll publish your responses (using your code names, of course!).
Sticking together will keep us strong!
Golden Girl, Acting Editor
Severus tapped the scroll again and the message disappeared. He sighed as he tucked it away in his small desk. Slytherins have always had to stick together. Maybe this will help them do that. The future is in their hands now.
He was interrupted by a knock on his door. It was the cook, Seabiscuit, with some papers. "You've got mail," he said. "I've been keeping it for you while you were ashore. And I've just made a fresh pot of tea, if you're interested."
Severus was indeed interested. Biscuit made excellent tea. He followed the cook to the mess where he helped himself to the tea and proceeded to go through his mail.
Lydia in Melbourne had sent a letter addressed to all of them. She said that Stan Shunpike was working out well at the bookshop. He'd discovered that he liked reading and was currently in the middle of the Ring Trilogy. He'd found himself a girlfriend, too. "She was a regular customer at the shop, and she kept teasing him about his accent," Lydia wrote. "He started flirting with her, and eventually he asked her out and they hit it off. They're quite sweet together, really."
Shunpike has a girlfriend? he thought. Amazing! It must have been that pimple potion that I made up for him.
Beneath Lydia's letter there was one from Lucius. He broke the seal and opened it. It was on the most expensive parchment, of course, lightly scented with sandalwood.
I arranged for Draco to pass all of his exams and graduate without having to return to Hogwarts, Lucius wrote. Now he is learning to look after our many business affairs so he can assume his role as the Malfoy heir. And I am delighted to tell you that he has started to date Astoria Greengrass. She's a lovely girl from an excellent family. It's unfortunate about the Parkinson girl; she went into seclusion after the debacle at Hogwarts. Really, I fail to understand why it should be such a terrible crime not to want to die for Harry Potter.
Severus flinched at the thought of Harry Potter. What had he said to the brat? He thought he remembered something about singing. Well, it was too late now. At this very moment Potter was probably telling the whole world that Severus Snape was still very much alive. That would bring his sojourn on the boat to an end. He'd have to go into hiding somewhere.
And then there was that vial of memories that Potter had returned to him. What was he going to do with that?
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"So Severus Snape might have had a girlfriend during his Hogwarts days, someone other than Lily Evans," Rita Skeeter said to herself as she read over the notes from her visit with Narcisssa. "That certainly is an unexpected revelation. I'll have to find her, if she exists. But how?
"First things first, though. I need to do a bit more 'research' on Potter and his friends before I try to interview any of them again. That old house of his is too well protected to get near, but I've heard that he spends a lot of time at the Weasley place. The Weasleys have no sense at all and that old house of theirs is probably wide open. Maybe I should 'bug' them and see what I can find out."
She changed into a plain wool jumper, slacks and runners, then she donned an inconspicuous cloak and hurried out the door.
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"He was off his nut, Hermione," Harry said. "They'd given him some sort of medication that made him crazy. He even sang for a while! I couldn't make sense of any of it. But at least now I know that Professor Snape survived."
Hermione nodded. She'd suspected that Snape was alive since she and Luna had searched for his body, but there was no need to tell Harry and Ron about that.
"That's wonderful," she said, "but we must never tell anyone. He obviously doesn't want anyone to know or he wouldn't be hiding under an assumed name. The least we can do for him is keep his secret, after all that he did for us and for Hogwarts."
"We wanted to talk to you about that," Harry said. "We must all owe him a life debt, since he saved our lives a few times, and when we had the chance to repay him we didn't even think of it."
"We were a bit distracted at the time," Ron pointed out. "But maybe it's not too late. Maybe we could arrange an accident for him and then rescue him."
"Ron!" Hermione said.
"Just kidding," he said, grinning. "Don't get excited."
"We all owe him," Ginny told them. "Remember when he caught Neville, Luna and me trying to steal the sword? Snape gave us detention with Hagrid as punishment. At the time we thought he was an idiot because that wasn't really a punishment, but now we know he did it to protect us. If he hadn't caught us, the Carrows might have got us and I'd hate to imagine what they would have done. Snape caught us and sent us to Hagrid to keep us safe."
Harry nodded. "When you were held captive in the Chamber of Secrets, Snape was genuinely upset about it," he added. "I was hiding and overheard him." He thought for a moment. "Maybe we should have gone to him instead of Lockhart. It would have saved us a lot of trouble, but we didn't know any better."
"Going to Lockhart was a really stupid move," Ron agreed.
"Maybe the unpaid debt is why I've been so obsessed with finding him," Harry said. "I really want to do something to help him."
"All we can do for him right now is keep his secret," Hermione repeated. "We must never tell anyone, or even talk about it among ourselves. We have to act like he really is dead."
"Good idea," said Ron, who was beginning to get tired of the topic.
"Who's dead?" said Molly Weasley as she bustled through the front door levitating some bags full of groceries.
"Professor Dumbledore," Harry said quickly. "We were just talking about how much we miss him."
"Yes," Molly said, and tears began to glisten in her eyes as she remembered Fred. "So many people died."
"Come on, everybody," Ginny said, "let's help mom with those groceries!"
They all rushed to help and in the ensuing confusion they didn't notice the beetle that flew in through the open door. It landed quickly, folded its wings, closed its iridescent green wing-covers, and scurried under the couch.
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Underneath the letter from Lucius was a copy of The Quibbler. Severus picked it up. What sort of rot has Lovegood cranked out this time? he wondered. Perhaps there will be something amusing.
On the front page was a story about the Ministry's proposed plans for a monument to those who had died defending Hogwarts in the final battle. It would consist of life-sized statues of attractive young witches and wizards, wands held high and spouting water. Plated with gold, of course. It would be installed in the Ministry's atrium to replace the Fountain of the Magical Brethren.
It will undoubtedly be a tasteless monstrosity, Severus thought, chuckling. Fortunately, I'll never see it.
The next few pages were filled with the usual speculation about imaginary creatures, complete with hand-drawn illustrations, and the usual conspiracy theories. Lovegood noted that Stan Shunpike and Argus Filch were still at large and opined that they were probably hiding out with the surviving members of the Rotfang conspiracy.
Then came a report about the opera that Celestina Warbeck was working on. Severus thought nothing of it as he read that she's hired an Italian wizard and two American muggles to assist her.
Silly witch, he thought. I wonder what it's going to be about?
Then his eyes widened with horror as he found out: It was going to be about him! And Lily! Celestina was going to call it "Lily Potter and the Halfblood Prince", and she was planning to play the role of Lily personally.
He read on in disbelief until he came to the final shock: "The boathouse?" he said out loud.
A group of passengers seated near the door glanced quizzically at him.
"It will be wonderful for mise en scéne," Celestina was quoted as saying. "Oh, the clever things we can do with the lighting there!"
"She's going to move my death scene to the boathouse?!" he shouted, jumping up from his chair. "That idiot! It's intolerable! Disgraceful! Who does she think she is?" He slammed the paper down on the table.
The passengers rose quietly and headed off to their cabin.
Seabiscuit looked up from the stove where he was preparing a pot roast. "What's that?" he asked.
That brought Severus to his senses. "It's nothing," he replied quickly, reigning himself in. "Nothing. Just … just some nonsense in this stupid paper."
I've got to keep my temper, he thought. I don't want to have to explain this mess to the crew. And what would I tell them? That I was a turncoat Death Eater and a spy? That I caused people's death's? That I murdered Albus Dumbledore? That I was nearly murdered myself but Fawkes saved me? That I'm supposed to be dead? And now some idiot witch is writing an opera about it! And she's not even getting the facts right!
He took a deep breath and sat back down.
"You okay?" Biscuit asked, coming over to renew the warming spell on the teapot. "Here, have some more tea." He refilled Severus's mug.
"There are some things I ought to tell you," Severus said slowly. "All of you."
"You don't have to," the cook told him. "Only if it will make you feel better. We don't need to know."
"Maybe later, then," Severus said. It feels like I've spent most of my life lying to everyone, and I'm still lying, pretending that I'm dead, he thought. But I don't want to lie to the crew any more. They're … friends. He'd had so few real friends in his life that he was almost afraid to use the word.
He sipped the tea and thought. The boathouse – what a joke! I haven't been near the boathouse since my last year as a student, when I used to sneak down there with Holly for a bit of snogging. He smiled to himself as the memories came back. He hadn't thought about that in a long time. Those were good times. Wherever she is and whatever she's doing now, I hope she's well and happy.
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"I'll be sorry to miss Christmas here," Hermione announced when they returned to the sitting room, "but I want to spend it with my parents."
"In Australia?" Molly asked.
"Well, no," Hermione admitted. "I didn't really send them to Australia. I convinced them to take that trip around the world that they'd always dreamed of. I didn't even have to use magic. Or not much, anyway. They arranged for some dentist-friends to look after their practice and some of the neighbors looked after the house. They got back in August."
"You never told me that," Ron said accusingly.
"I thought that it was better if no one knew. And anyway, no matter what happened, the wizarding world would have forgotten about them by the time they got back." Only wizards could believe a stupid story like that, she thought. They know so little about muggles. Muggle affairs are completely under the radar for most of them. In fact, most of them wouldn't even know what radar is.
"Muggles can't just move to another country, settle down and start practicing dentistry, you know," she added. 'There are a lot of formalities, and a lot of paperwork. It can take years."
"Amazing," said Arthur, who'd joined them. "Muggles are such fascinating creatures. Imagine, they have paperwork just like we do."
"Well, I'm glad to hear that you didn't really purge their memories," Molly said. And my children had better not try a stunt like that on me! "What about you, Harry, are your muggle relatives back?"
"Yes, they're back at Number 4 Privet Drive now," he said, frowning. "I'm sure they're furious about the whole thing, and I'm not going to visit them at Christmas. Or ever."
Under the couch, the Rita-beetle's antennae perked up. She'd started to think that she was wasting her time, but now she'd struck gold. That's right, he has muggle relatives. I'd forgotten all about that. They probably knew his mother! I'll have to have a little talk with them.
She endured their small talk until finally they all went off to bed. Then she crept out, squeezed under the door, and flew off to find her clothes.
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The Knight Boat stopped in Halifax to pick up a crate of frozen nipsters, magical lobster-like creatures that jet about in the ocean like squid. Nipsters are slightly psychic, which makes them almost impossible to catch, but eating them is believed to give a witch or wizard a temporarily enhanced ability to foresee the future. Their rubbery flesh tastes much like a burnt tire and few can stomach it long enough to get any benefit, but there are always those who are willing to try, and nipsters always bring a high price at magical fish markets.
Night had fallen by the time they pulled out of the harbor. Severus was off duty and he stood on the deck looking at the vial of memories that Potter had returned to him. He longed to pull out the stopper and watch them drift away into the darkness. Shadows of those memories, most of them painful and some of them shameful, still remained to haunt him. Why return them to his head and refresh the pain?
But what would he be without his memories? What would anyone be? His memories, distressing though they might be, were part of him. They were of things he had done and experienced, and they made him what he was. Without memories a man would be a blank slate. There were witches and wizards who had deliberately disposed of their worst memories, and most of them eventually ended up in St. Mungo's, vaguely happy but mindless, like Gilderoy Lockhart.
No, they were his memories of his deeds and his decisions, and he would have to bear them. He pulled out the stopper, teased them out with his wand, and let them slip back into his head. Then he stood there for a long time, staring out into the night.