4. IN AMENDMENT TO
Severus was not having a good day and considering that it was still before breakfast that was saying something. But his day had started the same way the previous day had ended, with both Dumbledore and the Dark Lord badgering him about finally finding a potion to mute Potter's pain from her curse scar while also complaining to him about the respective other and trying to squeeze some titbits of new information out of him. As if it was as easy as making soup to develop an entirely new potion to alleviate the pain from a curse scar that by rights shouldn't even exist; as if he hadn't heard all their complaints before; as if they both hadn't by now realised the dangerous game he'd been playing and had stopped allowing him access to any useful information.
And now, when he had escaped to Malfoy Manor to at least get away from Dumbledore's constant interruptions, if not from the Dark Lord's untimely summons, and had had some hope of finally getting to work in peace, he had been informed by a quivering house-elf that Lucius had assigned his usual guest quarters to the gawky Gryffindor girl-wonder simply because she had apparently asked for a room with a balcony overlooking the gardens and most of the usual guestrooms were located in the east wing and had a view on the Quidditch pitch instead, which, Severus thought, should be perfectly acceptable to Minerva's star seeker.
He was still fuming when he reached the door to his quarters and started pounding his fist against the closed door. "Potter! You have exactly one minute to open this door and explain yourself!"
He listened briefly for any sound of movement and then started banging against the door again, convinced that the dratted girl would somehow manage to sleep through all of this just to be contrary. At the end of his already limited patience, he drew his wand, slashing it across the keyhole to override the integrated locking mechanism and pushed the door open.
"Potter!" he shouted, meeting startled green eyes across the expanse of his rooms, the rest of her just slowly coming into his awareness.
She had clearly just fallen out of bed, her hair an unseemly, wild mess on her head, a pillow crease on her cheek, her slim form covered in a thin white shirt with some kind of faded logo on the front, her legs bare. Severus cursed mentally and remembered quite forcibly why the Heads of Houses had long since come to an agreement that matters concerning the respective opposite gender could and should be relegated to one of the other Heads of Houses, who had the appropriate qualifications for any such issues. He spun on his heels, his robes billowing around him as he strode quickly down the corridor, his only goal to get as far away as possible from a half-naked Miss Potter.
"Professor!" he heard hasty footsteps behind him, reluctantly halting his own steps when she called out to him again. "Professor, please wait!"
"What, Miss Potter?" he demanded swirling around, but keeping his eyes firmly above her head.
"I want to apologise," she said, her words surprising him enough that he glanced down briefly, finding that she had at least had the common decency to put on some more clothes, though why she had chosen jeans and a sweater that were clearly several sizes too large for her was well beyond his will to understand.
"Miss Potter, the list of your transgressions is long whereas my time is limited." He sneered at her. "Thus, I think I will go without hearing your bumbling apology for whatever plagues your conscience right now. Be assured that I simply do not care."
He turned away, but she spoke up again. "I should not have gone into your Pensieve. I had no right to violate your privacy like that and I'm sorry. Even if that means nothing to you. I also wanted to give you these."
She pulled two sealed envelopes out of her back pocket, holding them out to him. He could see the Black family seal on one of them, recognised Lupin's plain handwriting on the other.
"I've had enough of what Black and Lupin and Potters find amusing," he spat, making no move to accept the letters from her hand, quite sure that they were likely accursed with what the Marauders and their offspring would once again consider a well-played prank.
"They're apologies," she corrected, "For that incident and others, as far as I understand. My father obviously can't offer his and if you want to have an admission of guilt from Pettigrew you might have to get in line, but I thought you at least deserved an apology from Sirius and Remus."
"Just like your father to assume that an insincere apology fixes everything," the Potions Master retorted.
"I don't actually," she interjected, her chin tilting upwards mulishly. "And I don't know if that's a fair characterisation of my father or if he was arrogant or lazy; or if my mother was ungrateful and spoilt."
"I never said anything about your mother," Severus protested.
"No, but just as you claim that I'm exactly like my father, my aunt is convinced that I'm exactly like my mother. And she doesn't mean that as a compliment, either. Maybe you could compare notes sometime; I'm sure you'd get along famously." She crossed her arms over her chest, a familiar fire in her emerald eyes as she glared up at him. "You don't have to accept my apology and you don't have to read those letters. But maybe, if it isn't too much trouble, you could start judging me on my own merits – or lack thereof. I'm sure you'll still find ample reason to hate me. Good day, Professor."
She turned away and he only then noticed that her feet were still bare, her steps nearly silent on the cold stone floor. He was still standing there, lost in thought, when a house-elf popped up and informed him that Mistress Holly had told the house staff that she wanted to switch to a different room so that Master Snape could reside in his accustomed quarters. It did not help the confusion in his mind, nor did the two letters he found she had left behind in his rooms.
§*§*§*§*§
"Ah, Severus, I heard you had arrived," Lucius greeted him, looking up from his correspondence and motioning the Potions Master to join him in his private study. He waited until Severus had settled in one of the armchairs with a tumbler of good Scotch in his hand before he added with a smirk, "I also heard you got into an argument with our Miss Potter."
Severus snorted unhappily. Even after he had spent several hours in his lab, able to immerse himself fully in the rewarding work of creating something new, something unique, something powerful, his encounter with the Girl-Who-Lived still rankled with him.
"So she went crying to you to complain?" he demanded. "Typical."
"No, actually, I was informed about this by several of my ancestors, who happened to overhear your argument from their portraits," Lucius replied, still smirking. "I also learned from the house-elves that Miss Potter has chosen to vacate the rooms I assigned to her because apparently you voiced your displeasure about my decision."
Severus heard the rebuke loud and clear, knowing that Lucius did not enjoy being questioned, let alone about the running of his own estate. "I was merely surprised about this arrangement and expressed as much to the house-elves," he pressed out. "I don't know how Miss Potter found out about it."
"Probably by simply asking," Lucius replied, offering to refill Severus' glass. "The house-elves all adore her."
Severus scoffed, mentally rolling his eyes. Perfect, precious Potter, of course they'd love her, with her gentle voice and charming smile in contrast to the sharp words they were accustomed to hearing from the Malfoys.
"Well, in any case, I trust you're satisfied with being back in your usual quarters and Miss Potter seems quite happy with her new rooms in the west wing."
"The west wing?" Severus startled slightly. "Do you think that is wise? The inscription…"
"Yes… 'Only the purest shall pass'," Lucius mused. "Curiously that did not seem to affect Miss Potter at all. I'm starting to wonder if my ancestor might have been referring to something besides blood when he set up those wards…"
"Potter likes to be the exception to every rule," Severus commented bitterly. "Just like -" He broke off, her angry words echoing loudly through his mind.
"I heard she offered you an apology," Lucius said, studying him carefully. "It might be wise to accept it."
"I don't need her damn apology!" the Potions Master snapped angrily, glaring at his blond friend. "Why is she even here? Don't tell me you've joined the ranks of her fans!"
Lucius' face darkened, though if Severus hadn't known him so well, if they hadn't been friends for almost two decades, he might not have noticed. "I never knew you to be so short-sighted, Severus. You've managed to play both sides for a long time, my friend, but I fear very soon you will have to make a choice. And even I might not be able to intervene on your behalf if it should be the wrong one."
"Don't be so melodramatic, Lucius. The war is over; that was the sole point of this pointless exercise," Severus replied, even knowing that Lucius was absolutely right; that without his patronage he would never have been able to complete his potions mastery and would have remained nothing more than Dumbledore's puppet and charity case for the rest of his miserable life; that without Lucius' intercession the Dark Lord would certainly not have been so lenient with him when he had learned just how convincingly Severus had played Dumbledore's man over the years.
"Naïveté doesn't suit you, Severus. The war isn't over; it's just changing to a different battlefield – one on which you might not be as useful to either Dumbledore or the Dark Lord as you've been in the past," Lucius corrected him. "You might want to provide for these eventualities."
"By making nice with the Girl-Who-Wouldn't-Bloody-Well-Die? Is that what you're doing?" Severus demanded, only more infuriated when Lucius actually smiled.
"Perhaps you did not read the contract as carefully as you should have," the blond suggested airily, savouring a sip from his drink before he summoned a roll of parchment from one of his locked filing cabinets and offered it to the Potions Master.
Severus sighed, but unrolled the parchment, unsurprised that Lucius had somehow obtained a certified copy of the peace contract for himself, probably through his contacts at the Ministry and/or liberal application of bribery. He almost missed it, the small addition, an innocent repetition, really, which had been added to the first of the Dark Lord's demands and which had Lucius looking so unbearably smug.
… The Wizarding World and the Order of the Phoenix to suspend the war and all hostile actions against my person, my wife and her friends and family and the organisation called Death Eaters, to refrain from criminal or petty prosecution and to hold peace…
"You slipped this in," he said, half accusingly, half in open admiration. "And they didn't notice?"
"The Dark Lord did, of course." Lucius lifted his shoulders in a negligent shrug, his smirk growing wider. "And Dumbledore might have, but what could he have said without revealing his hand? No, Severus, Holly Potter and all those she considers her friends are completely off limits to both sides."
"So you invited her to your manor…" Severus said, his mind working furiously to calculate all the implications, the new possibilities of this development.
Lucius made a dismissive gesture with his hand. "A rather spontaneous decision, I admit, but one I don't think I shall come to regret. I have found her to be a rather thoughtful, pleasant young woman and I should not dislike it if she one day considered me a friend. But I'm the Dark Lord's right-hand man; my allegiance has never been in question."
Severus remained silent for long moments, staring into the dancing flames of the fireplace, but his thoughts directed inwards as he took a careful look behind his Occlumency shields. Miss Potter might think that she had seen his worst memories when she had entered the Pensieve, but there were others, much more painful, hidden deep within the crevices of his mind, the harm and humiliation Potter and his merry band of bullies had wreaked nothing compared to the guilt and blame he had incurred on his own conscience.
"I can't accept her apology," he murmured, speaking over Lucius' protests. "I can't accept her apology because I don't deserve it. Not from her. Not from Lily's daughter."
Lucius sighed. "Severus…"
He shook his head, quickly finishing his drink and getting to his feet. "Thank you, Lucius. I appreciate the advice."
He didn't wait for a reply, knowing that there was nothing Lucius could say that hadn't been said before, nothing that would change the fact that he was responsible for his best friend's death.
§*§*§*§*§
He returned to his lab, tried to invest all of his concentration in the precise art of potion brewing, but found to his displeasure that his mind lacked its usual discipline, that his thoughts escaped his reins and wandered back to other things, to his argument with Miss Potter, to the written apologies from Lupin and Black, to his conversation with Lucius, to all the things he tried to keep buried. Since he well knew that attempting to brew an experimental potion when he was distracted was a monumentally stupid idea, he reluctantly finished what needed to be finished and put stasis charms on his projects before locking up his lab and returning to his sitting room. He picked up a book on Occlumency, thinking that perhaps some of the contained information would come as a timely reminder to himself right now. Instead, he found himself remembering the disastrous Occlumency lessons with Potter's spawn, her obvious distaste of him as a teacher and her disinterest in putting in even a modicum of effort to learn something that would potentially safe her life. The familiar rush of anger and annoyance felt almost liberating, a moment of normalcy.
But then other memories reasserted themselves, the snippets of her childhood he had seen in her mind that didn't want to fit the image he had created of her, her too small body crumpling to the floor after another one of his attacks, the anger, despair and fear in her wide green eyes when she looked up at him. Eyes that were so much like Lily's, who would have been furious with him for abusing her daughter like that.
He was almost glad when a timid house-elf popped up and informed him that Master Malfoy was requesting his presence for dinner. He closed the book, but then hesitated before putting it away, taking something else from the hidden compartment of his travel bag instead.
§*§*§*§*§
Whether by coincidence or careful design, Lucius met him just outside the informal dining hall, making polite small talk as they entered the hall where Miss Potter was already sitting, having what appeared to be a very animated discussion with one of the house-elves. The house-elf was nodding eagerly, its long caramel-coloured ears flapping wildly, before it disappeared with a deep bow and Potter turned around to face them.
"Lucius, Professor," she greeted them with a guileless smile, once more clad in an ill-fitting ensemble of baggy jeans and a colourless blouse. "Cooky just told me that we're having beef Wellington for dinner and some fancy French chocolate for dessert."
"I take it you approve," Lucius replied, taking a seat at the head of the table and starting to unfold his serviette. "You must have worked up quite an appetite with how much time you spent out on the Quidditch pitch."
Potter shrugged with a bashful smile and with her hair gathered back in a high ponytail, her pale face looked too much like Lily's.
"Perhaps, if at any point you have exhausted your enthusiasm for flying mindless circles around the pitch, and find that you have some time to spare for your homework – or perish the thought – some other academic pursuits, this might come in handy," Severus said before he could think better of it, sliding the book on Occlumency over the table. "The Dark Lord is of the opinion that we should continue our Occlumency lessons and I'm of the opinion that my time is too valuable to waste on unprepared students. I've highlighted some paragraphs that you should read with special attention."
"Cool, thanks, Professor," Potter replied and to his horror opened the book immediately, even as dishes upon dishes of food appeared on the table.
"Miss Potter," he said warningly, but with her unerring talent of doing always the exact opposite of what he wanted from her she had already found the photograph he had slipped in between the pages.
She dropped the book carelessly, the picture cradled between her shaking fingers, her eyes wide and luminescent. Severus knew every detail of what she was seeing, Lily Evans at sixteen years of age, in a short-sleeved summer dress, her long red hair fluttering around her as she swung back and forth on the makeshift swing set her father had fastened to one of the old cherry trees in their garden, trying to swing ever higher, laughing and happy, carefree and beautiful.
He cursed mentally when after long moments of silently drinking in the image of her mother, Potter flipped the picture over, startling when she found not just a date or a short description, but the words Severus had written down earlier, spur of the moment.
Lily Evans was a brilliant witch, a kind and generous friend, a fiercely protective woman, who never hesitated to speak up when she saw an injustice. If someone tells you that you are just like her, you should take it as a compliment, even if it was not intended as such.
She snapped her eyes up to him, such a raw look of emotion in them that he felt slightly unmoored, awkwardly clearing his throat. "I found that somewhere and thought you might have better use for it."
She cocked her head, studying him much too closely for a few moments, and then started beaming, springing up out of her chair and rounding the table to throw her arms around him much to his consternation.
"Miss Potter! This is highly inappropriate," he protested, trying to push her away without actually making any further physical contact and looking to Lucius for help, who of course, was enjoying this all just a little too much.
"Thank you, Professor," she murmured, finally stepping back and smiling at him through teary eyes. "This means the world to me. Thank you."
"Well, as I said, I had it lying around," Severus replied, striving for an even tone and avoiding her too knowing gaze.
"I didn't know you knew my mother," she said carefully, at last slipping back into her seat.
"We shared some classes," the Potions Master replied evasively.
"I think you mentioned that she was your lab partner in Potions," Lucius offered innocently, smirking at his glare. "And of course, you grew up in the same neighbourhood."
"I would love to hear more about her sometime, Professor," she said, lightly tracing her fingers over the photograph again before carefully slipping it back between the pages of the Occlumency book; she looked up at him again, a smile on her lips. "And I do think you deserve my apology and forgiveness, but I can wait until you feel ready to forgive yourself."
"You…" Severus heard himself descend into an undignified sputter.
"You eavesdropped on our conversation," Lucius put it more succinctly, arching a disapproving eyebrow.
"I don't think you can prove that, Lucius," she gave back sweetly. "And if you don't want to give me a reason to listen in, I suggest you refrain from talking about me behind my back."
She didn't wait for either of the two former Slytherins to come up with a rejoinder, instead turning to her dinner and humming appreciatively at the first bite. "This is fantastic. I tried to make beef Wellington once, but the pastry looked kind of soggy and apparently the mushrooms were too chunky."
"You have a habit of not dicing your ingredients finely enough," Severus said after a moment too long, forcing himself to continue after another brief pause. "Though I should not think that chunky mushrooms should detract much from the taste."
"I wouldn't know," she replied with a light shrug. "The food wasn't for me. But I will try to remember that advice for Potions class. Or probably not, but I appreciate it nonetheless."
"And why would you not heed my advice in the classroom, Miss Potter?" Severus demanded, cutting a precise bite from his own beef and spearing it onto his fork with a cube of roasted beets.
"I doubt I got an 'O' in Potions, Professor," she pointed out. "And Professor McGonagall said that was a requirement for taking your class next year."
"It is," Severus admitted. "But I would still suggest waiting for your exam results before you decide to erase everything I've ever managed to teach you from your brain."
"Another valuable bit of advice, sir," she agreed with a smile and then asked Lucius to pass the carrot puree. Severus experienced some schadenfreude as Lucius, still speechless, passed the requested side dish, no doubt reviewing their conversation and trying to decide if any of his plans needed recalibrating, now that he had learned first-hand of Potter's annoying habit of poking her nose into absolutely everything.
Happy New Year, everyone!