41. Penelope

The twenty-ninth of March dawned rosy and slow. I woke up to the bleeding pink light with my heart beating rapidly from another nightmare. I breathed deeply, lying on my back and staring at the light on the stone ceiling. I couldn't remember what had happened, but my body was tingling with the familiar sensation of panic.

I rolled over again, already exhausted. I lingered for a few minutes in bed, my eyes closed against the pillow, my limbs heavy.

The nightmare wasn't the only reason for my paralysis. The next day would be the first of my fertile window. My body had been nervous over the past days, more frequently recalling what had happened with Lucius Malfoy as the full moon grew nigh. I was terrified by the inevitability of going to bed with someone again. The comfort of Severus's potion wasn't enough to fully console me. Severus himself had remained guarded and often short-tempered since the day I'd found the Resurrection Stone.

Yesterday he had seemed particularly on edge, and I sensed he was waiting for me to broach the subject of our impending task. I knew I wanted to have it over with tomorrow, so that the anticipation would end. But the mere thought of saying so, stating my most simple desire or opinion, was daunting.

I felt the morning light creep onto my face, and groaned. I wanted to spend the day in bed and avoid fully waking up. But yesterday evening Severus had proposed that we brew some Wiggenweld Potion, so that I could get back into practice, and because we had no more. I had agreed, and I had to keep my word.

I pushed myself up from the bed and magically cleaned the sheets, which were slightly damp with sweat from the nightmare. I took a quick shower and pulled on a jumper and trousers. My body moved slowly, exhausted from night upon night of stressful dreams, and from the turbulence of my relationship with Severus.

I was just in time for breakfast. I put a few things on my plate, starting small. I had no appetite whatsoever, but knew Severus would mention it if he noticed I wasn't eating. He entered the great hall a few minutes after I'd arrived, and sat down beside Minerva. Indeed, I caught him glancing briefly at my plate.

I nursed a cup of tea after I'd finished, and when the others were beginning to filter away, Severus turned to instruct me. "We will meet in the classroom in a quarter of an hour. Bring from the storeroom Salamander Blood, Lionfish Spines, Flobberworm Mucus, Honey Water, and Boom Berry Juice. Please."

I nodded, and set off to retrieve the ingredients, reciting the list in my head to make sure I didn't forget any of them. I was certain that he hadn't written them down on purpose, and was determined to pass this small test.

Climbing up and down the ladder as was necessary, I collected the ingredients from the storeroom. It occurred to me to look for a vial of Dreamless Sleep while I was there–I was desperate for relief from my nightmares–but there were none. I left the room, locked it, and went down to the Potions classroom in the dungeon.

Severus had prepared a cauldron on one of the tables. I set down the ingredients under his gaze. He nodded, and I was relieved that I had not forgotten anything.

I had noticed as a student that, though it was a dungeon classroom, it had windows. They were always kept shuttered, but I could remember sometimes seeing very narrow hints of light squeezing through the hinges. I'd always wondered why Severus didn't unlatch the windows and let more light in.

As he uncorked the bottles of ingredients, I walked to the wall and began to open them myself. The cool morning light streamed in. The windows looked out over the dewy grass that sloped down towards the Whomping Willow, the greenhouses, and Hagrid's hut.

I turned to see that Severus had been watching me silently. He had a ribbon of light on his face, and his eye twinkled slightly in the golden glow. For a moment I almost believed he was smiling, but then he stepped into a shadow and the illusion was gone.

"If you really mind, I–" I started, sensing that perhaps I'd crossed a boundary. Although, technically, this was now my classroom.

"I don't." He moved his head to indicate that I should join him, and I did so. The classroom was much less unpleasant with the sunlight. I could more easily envision teaching here now.

I felt the old habitual trepidation as I went to him. Being in this classroom again reminded me of how controlling and cruel he'd been as a teacher.

Back to work, Weasley, had been his favourite phrase to scold me with, back then. Five points from Gryffindor for daydreaming. Normally a Hufflepuff occupation. I did not take you for one so weak-minded…

I shook the old Snape's voice from my head, but the anxiety lingered. If he was as dominant and unrelenting in bed as he was in the classroom…

I felt myself shy away slightly as he reached past me to start the flame beneath the cauldron, and reminded myself of what Fredrica had said. There was no reason to be so nervous, and yet I was.

"I will observe, and only intervene if you are about to make a mistake," Severus said.

I nodded my understanding, and began to study the instructions. Wiggenweld had few ingredients, but the timing was quite difficult, as well as the ability to recognise the correct colouring at certain stages. I was quite rusty. I'd made a few potions for the Order after leaving school, but hadn't even gone near a cauldron since the end of the war. I was bound to make a mistake, or at least prove myself to be clumsy in Severus's eyes. He had no doubt kept his own skills sharp.

I trembled a bit as I began to measure out the Salamander Blood. He stood over my shoulder with his arms crossed, watching. I felt unease creeping up the back of my neck, just as I had when I'd taken my exams. As though he were finding fault with everything I did. But I forced myself to relax, knowing that this time he was certainly hoping for my success rather than my failure.

Despite the stifling silence, I was able to focus eventually. I sensed I was rightly judging the changing hue of the potion, and was very careful to stir correctly. I felt my face tensing with concentration, determined not to do anything wrong. I remained nervous that Severus would notice me making a mistake, and correct me. But he never did. I wondered then if he was allowing me to make loads of mistakes so that I would be embarrassed afterward. He had done so before.

I took a soft breath, reminding myself that I was no longer his student, but his colleague. He wouldn't do such a thing. Silently I vowed that I would never treat a student that way myself.

At long last I finished. My body was a bit shaky from the stress, and my ankles felt stiff from standing so long. I stood aside as Severus tested the potion, watching him with a mask of neutrality on my face.

"Excellently done," he said, after a long moment.

I felt myself flush from the rare praise.

We had to wait half an hour for the potion to cool. Riding the high of my success, I wondered whether I might brew some Dreamless Sleep as well.

"Of course," he agreed. "Pine needles, Chamomile, Sopophorous Bean, and more honeywater. You'll need fresh lavender as well. Go and bother Sprout for some."

I went out of the classroom and climbed the stairs, my heart fluttering oddly. It was a lovely day and I went out to the greenhouses without a cloak. Neville and Pomona were in greenhouse three, and I stuck my head in to ask about lavender. "First greenhouse, dear," Pomona answered. I cut off a bit, and then went back into the castle to the tapestry corridor. I retrieved the other ingredients from the storeroom and returned to the dungeon. I was surprised to realise that I was actually having quite a bit of fun.

Severus had prepared a second cauldron, and had retrieved a different book for the instructions. He supervised again as I prepared the ingredients and began to brew the potion, careful not to let my ego run away with me. One success after a long hiatus didn't mean that I would get this one right too.

I felt my heart speed up when he held out a hand to stop me, when I was nearly through. I assumed I'd done something wrong, but his expression wasn't snide.

"A slight alteration, if I may," he intoned. "I suggest you now add three more flowers from the lavender, and stir counterclockwise."

I glanced with furrowed eyebrows at the book, whose instructions were different, but trusted that Severus knew what he was doing. He'd invented plenty of potions himself. Likely this modification would make the potion work better.

I did as he suggested, and finished with no mistakes. I turned off the flame to let it cool, feeling satisfied. Severus tested it. "Also perfect," he said.

The Wiggenweld was cool by now, and I slowly dipped empty vials into the cauldron with tongs, handing them to Severus, who capped them. Then we did the same with the Dreamless Sleep.

"Put them in the proper places in the storeroom," he instructed, giving all of the vials to me. "And keep those you need for yourself."

I went and did so, slipping two vials of Dreamless Sleep into my pocket, and then returned to help him clean up.

The air was very dense as we quietly worked together. With magic it only took a minute, but the seconds seemed to stretch much longer. When the tables were clean and the cauldrons replaced, we stood silently, Severus looking out the windows.

"Tomorrow…" I started.

"Yes," he said slowly, not turning. I sensed an increased tension in his posture. "Would you prefer…"

"Why not tomorrow?" I said, looking down.

"What time?"

"I thought it would be better to wait until after dinner… Nine o'clock?"

He nodded.

"Alright," I said. It was terribly awkward, and I began to turn to go.

"Good work," he said abruptly, his back to me.

"Thanks," I said, just above a whisper, and fled.

The weather remained stunning through lunchtime, and at one I went out flying. I'd made a habit of it, and had gone out almost every day in the last week. It helped to keep my mind off the nightmares, and the exercise put me in a better mood. Though the sun was shining, it was still cloudy enough for the pastime to be safe. Staying high enough, I was well out of sight of any muggles.

I flew east, with no destination, and let the wind shift me slightly southward. After a while I came over a small city. I had never been here before, but I knew it must be Edinburgh. Why not take a stroll around? I wasn't dressed conspicuously.

I touched down in the nearby hills, which were surprisingly empty on such a lovely day. The wind came cool and soft over the grass and danced with my hair. I realised I couldn't be terribly far from Eddleston, where Remus's cottage was. It was strange to picture it sitting there unused. I let the wind carry the thought from my mind.

I hid my broomstick in a thicket, and apparated into the city. I landed in a little cluster of old houses near a stream and climbed up the empty cobbled lane into a more busy street. There were buses and cars, sights I hadn't seen since I'd been in London last autumn, renovating Number Twelve Grimmauld Place. It was all a bit overwhelming, but I enjoyed the feeling of letting myself blend into the crowd. The sunlight shone beautifully on the buildings, turning the sandstone golden, and glinted in the windows.

The stream of people carried me across a bridge, and I soon happened upon a bookshop. The windows were wide and welcoming, and I stepped in, wanting to have a look around. I was greeted by the soft ringing of a bell on the door.

The wooden floor creaked under my shoes. The books were all new, and the titles were curious. There was a respectful and quiet feeling in the air. I thought the muggles who were quietly walking around and reading the words on the back covers didn't seem too far off from witches or wizards themselves.

Allowing my body to relax into the non threatening environment, I wandered upstairs to the second floor. I soon came to a shelf labelled CLASSICS. There, at eye-level, was a copy of The Odyssey.

It was a different translation than Remus's copy, but I felt drawn to it nonetheless. I suddenly felt that I should finish reading it myself. I opened the book and paged through it until I found the place where Remus and I had left off. I didn't have any muggle money on me. I felt a strange impulse to steal the book–one of those old and buried impulses which Fred had always encouraged. But I knew I wouldn't follow it.

"Have you read the Iliad?"

I turned around to see that the voice belonged to a thin young man with brown hair and freckles. He wore glasses, and had his hands in his pockets. His accent was soft and Scottish. He was looking at me with a smile.

"No," I said.

"Oh, you've got to read the Iliad before you read the Odyssey. Then the Aeneid, that comes in between."

"Oh," I said.

He looked a bit embarrassed. "Sorry for interrupting you. I'm in classics at the Uni."

I nodded, slowly piecing together what he meant.

"Have you read it already?" he asked, indicating the copy of The Odyssey I was holding.

"Yeah," I admitted. He was looking at me intently, and I realised that he probably fancied me. I kept myself from blushing. "Never finished it though."

"Didn't enjoy it?"

"I liked it," I assured him.

"Lost your copy?"

I forced a smile. "Something like that." I turned and set the book back on its shelf. "It's alright, I'm not buying anything."

He must have noticed the regret in my posture. "You don't mean to tell me you've come into a bookshop without any money," he said lightly.

I smiled and shrugged. "Just having a look around."

"I'll buy it for you," he said suddenly.

I was taken aback by this kind offer, but was wary. My mind automatically warned me that he might want something from me in return.

"I'm sorry," I said. "I'm, um… I'm married."

"Oh," he said, shaking his head. I realised I may have misread his intention. "I'm not trying to… anything." His eyes slipped down to my left hand, and I realised I didn't have a ring to prove what I'd said. He shrugged, looking a bit awkward. "I just think everyone should read it, that's all. Not that I'd do the same for just anyone, of course."

"Thank you, but I really–"

"What I mean is, you were looking at it like you needed it badly."

I looked at him, and suddenly knew for certain that he didn't have any underlying intentions. "I couldn't," I said.

"It's not a problem," he assured me. "Listen, I'll buy it for you, as long as you promise that once you've finished it, you'll read the Iliad as well."

I hesitated a moment. "Yeah, I will," I said, surprised at myself.

He grinned. "Shake on it?" he said, holding out his hand.

An old spike of fear entered my throat. He seemed in all ways a muggle, but what if he wasn't? If I took his hand and he turned out to be a wizard with bad intentions, he could apparate and I'd have walked right into the trap.

"It's alright," he said, sensing my wariness, and letting his hand fall, no questions asked. He gave me an understanding smile. He really was kind. "Now, this particular translation is in my opinion the best. Fitzgerald's is more widely read, but I think it's dry…"

I went with him down to the front desk, and watched in disbelief as he paid for the book with his own money, and handed it to me. I felt tears threatening to well in my eyes.

"Don't rush through it," he advised.

"Thank you," I said, unable to say anything else.

He smiled, as though it were nothing important. "Of course," he said. "Enjoy the weather."

He lifted a hand as he stepped away, and I waved back to him before he went back upstairs to continue looking around. I walked out of the bookshop in a daze, holding the new copy of The Odyssey close to my chest.

It seemed too good to be true, and a bit guiltily I checked over my shoulder a few times. But I didn't see the young man again.

As the fear lifted from my heart, I felt a breath of fresh air enter me. It took so much pressure off, speaking with someone who was blissfully unaware that there had been a war fought in Britain last year.

I found my way into a quiet alley, shady and cold, and from there I apparated back to where I'd left my broom.

I had planned to get back to the castle sooner rather than later, but now I felt free to linger longer. I walked a little ways until I found a river, and I sat on a rock to read some of The Odyssey.

The language was beautiful, and drew me in as the other translation hadn't done. Time passed by as easily as the water, and soon I realised that I was only a few pages away from the end. I read slowly, taking in every word. When I finally finished, pulling myself fully out of the narrative and the poetry, the sun was beginning to sink in the sky, and the wind was a bit sharper.

I stared into the water, and found myself thinking about Penelope, Odysseus's wife. She had remained faithful to him, waiting in grief for twenty long years despite the offers of her unrelenting suitors. Odysseus had worshipped her for her loyalty upon his return.

If Remus were to come back, however, it would be to find that I had married another man. I knew the circumstances were different. I'd had no choice, what with the Ministry. But I still felt unreasonably guilty.

If Remus was indeed safe, but unwilling to return, I hoped that he was at least being cared for. The imagery of the story had woven into my thoughts, and I imagined that after the full moons he was tended and healed by an old witch whose husband was also a werewolf. I envisioned a small warm cabin, in the ancient woods of Germany, as Sirius had suggested.

As the air grew slowly colder, and I began to hear small animals scurrying in the nearby woods, I let go of the thoughts of Remus, one by one. It would do no good to let them linger when tomorrow night I would have to give myself over to Severus.

The sun was sinking nearer to the earth, about to kiss it. I performed a shrinking charm on the book and put it in my pocket. Then I mounted my broom and kicked off, quickly rising high into the sky to remain unseen.

"Hogwarts," I whispered to my wand, which helpfully pointed the way. I slipped it into my pocket, and then started off, racing the sunset. I had promised Severus that I wouldn't stay out after dark again, and it would not be wise to awaken his temper tonight.

NOTE

Any thoughts?