Chapter six: Big hard sun
Severus awoke the next morning to the sound of gruff, angry shouting outside.
"Sixth time she's ran back here this week! Have you bewitched her into following you? She's mine, for Merlin's sake!"
He hurriedly pulled on the old grey trousers and the clean, crisp linen shirt that were laid on the chair, and stepped in the doorway. The dazzling May sunlight caught him unawares and it took him a few seconds to take in the comedic scene played out before him.
The Hog's head barman was trying to corner a shaggy-haired goat who danced around him without letting him catch her. A frayed rope trailed from her leather collar. "A'm sairy, Aberforth", Morag said, an amused glint in her eyes. "I dinnae ken why she's taken such a liking tae me. Let me help ye." Although she let the young witch approach her, the goat ran off again as soon as the barman came close. She climbed on a nearby rock and stared at them, the rectangle pupils in her golden eyes narrowed sternly. Morag could no longer repress her laughter, which infuriated the barman even further.
The healer scaled the rock and whispered soothingly to the goat, stroking her forehead gently, and coaxed her back to the path. She then handed the rope to Aberforth, but no sooner had the old man taken it than the stubborn creature gave a sharp tug and ran inside the Shack, knocking into Severus on the way. Aberforth, noticing the other man's presence for the first time, nodded to him.
"Snape", he said curtly.
"Good morning, Aberforth. You seem to be experiencing some trouble with your goat."
"Well, if that's the way she's going to be, Morag's welcome to her, the stupid thing! I swear I'll cook goat stew if she comes near me again!" The barman growled.
"So, you're Morag's mysterious patient", he added. "Count yourself lucky she found you. Seems she's been working miracles."
"She has remarkable healing skills." Severus paused awkwardly. He had not talked to anyone except Morag since she found him, and was unsure how people would respond to seeing him alive, after everything that had happened. Being faced with the brother of the man he had killed was certainly not the easiest way to start.
"Aberforth, I suppose this may be unwelcome, but I am truly sorry about your brother." It sounded like such a trite and inappropriate thing to say that Severus regretted it instantly, berating himself for his inability to find the right words. Yet, what else could he say? Somehow, "Sorry I killed your brother" would not have sounded much better, in any case.
The old barman considered him sombrely, then grunted, "How 'bout a drink at mine? I think we've got a few things to say to each other, Snape."
Morag, who had brought the goat back outside, gestured to the other side of the village. "I'll take Jeannie tae ma cottage, if it's all the same tae ye, Aberforth. I'll bring ye her milk every morning, and that's a promise. Sairy again, truly."
Hogsmeade's main street was, mercifully, deserted, save a house-elf pulling a barrel-laden cart towards the Three Broomsticks. The two men walked in heavy silence, Severus throwing glances towards Aberforth every now and then. The war had clearly taken its toll on the older wizard: his body seemed bonier, his face more lined and tired, and a fresh pink scar ran across his cheekbone.
They turned right into a narrow lane, and in the small stone courtyard. The barman turned a long iron key into the lock and pushed open the door.
"What will it be, Snape?", he said, gesturing to one of the rickety chairs. "I got some Blishen, unless you want to stick to a plain old lager."
"Blishen sounds good, Aberforth, thank you", said Severus, sitting down.
"I'll be frank with you, Snape: if I'd found you alive right after the battle, I might just have finished you off. Had you down as the worst double-face snake in wizarding history, I did."
"That is certainly justified. I have no intention to try and defend myself –"
" – well, you don't need to. Young Potter came here and explained a thing or two. He wanted to find you and give you a decent funeral, believe it or not."
"What exactly did Potter say to you?" grunted Snape through gritted teeth.
"Told me you were on my brother's side, being a spy for him and doing his bidding. Told me the bloody old fool had gotten himself cursed with something uncurable, and that he asked you to put an end to his misery, and to save young Malfoy from becoming a murderer in the process."
"That is a rather accurate summary, I suppose."
"Of course, it's not like I want to thank you for ending his life. Whatever else he may have been, he was my brother", Aberforth spat. "But I can't exactly blame you, either. Albus had a talent for manipulating people and hurting them in the process." He paused, and Severus held his piercing blue gaze, so alike his brother's, for several long minutes.
"I guess what I'd like to say, Snape, is I'm sorry Albus used you the way he did. He had a habit of disregarding others, supposedly for the greater good, that I can never forgive him, and it seems you've been his victim too."
"I was not a victim!" Severus scowled. "I knew the risks and I faced them willingly."
"Did you, now? It's easy to make a man walk into danger when he thinks he's lost everything, isn't it?"
"What else did Potter say, precisely?" Severus insisted, his fingers clenched around his firewhisky.
"He said you loved his mother," Aberforth said flatly. "That you defected from the Death Eaters as soon as you realized Lily Potter was in deadly danger."
"Marvelous", Severus grunted. "Who else did Potter impart that piece of information to, pray?"
"Well, the Granger girl and the youngest Wesley boy seem to know, but I'm not sure who else he told. Anyway, s'far as I'm aware, it was you who gave him your memories, Snape. Bit of a stupid thing to do if you don't want people to know your secrets, isn't it?"
"It's not like I was expecting to live to bear the shame!" the younger wizard exclaimed, fuming.
"Shame? What shame, lad? You made mistakes, big ones, but then it was love that drove you to put them right. I see no shame in that, far from it." Aberforth's gaze bore into the black eyes again.
"It never was my wish for it to be common knowledge. Lily…" he started. Then, screwing his eyes shut as if wincing in pain, he continued. "We made different life choices, and it was my fault that we grew apart. I can never make that right, nor the part I played in her death."
"I'm not the one who can absolve you of that, lad. But do hope you make peace with yourself eventually", the barman said, not unkindly.
"I seek no mercy, nor pardon, Aberforth. This burden is mine alone to bear." With that, Severus stood up. "Thank you for the firewhisky."
"Wait, Severus." It was the first time the old barman had addressed him by his first name. "What are you going to do now? It's not like you can live in that derelict old shack for the rest of your day, as a penance of sorts, is it?"
"Living there with Morag is hardly a penance –" Severus started, then bit his lip, cursing himself inwardly, mortified. What had he just implied, exactly? Yet, the barman did not press him with more questions.
"All I'm saying is, you need to work out where you're going to stay and what you're going to do. The Ministry sure will have enquiries, for a start."
"Let them come." Severus shrugged. "Good day to you, Aberforth, and thank you again."
He stepped outside and blinked in the bright sunlight. Morag had talked about taking the goat to a cottage, meaning she actually lived in Hogsmeade. He certainly could not expect her to give him lodgings; that would be utterly inappropriate. He would most probably go back to Spinner's End. Having to face that bleak old house again, with no real prospects for the future, filled his mind with dread.
As he turned into the path leading to the Shack, he saw the young healer hurrying along the main street. He stopped and waited for her to catch up with him. She moved with natural grace, like a dancer, and her copper curls shone in the sunlight. He refused to admit to himself how charmingly beautiful she looked.
"I'm glad ye're oot of that Shack, Severus. Ye need some daylight. Ye look like an old parchment that's goin' tae turn mouldy frae being stuffed away in a cupboard for too long" she quipped. "Hoo aboot ye come on home visits with me today?"
Glossary of Scottish words and phrases
A'm: I'm
aboot: about
dinnae: don't
hoo: how
ken: know
ma: my
oot: out
sairy: sorry
tae: to
ye: you
Author's note: "Big Hard Sun" is the title of a song by Eddie Vedder (Pearl Jam). Yes, I do like using songs in my writing.
