Walking free

The members of the court had risen and were leaving in twos or threes, talking in hushed voices. Morag, however, leapt unceremoniously over a bench and made for the door after Severus. Minerva, Aberforth, Harry and Hermione followed her through the torch-lit hallway. Not taking any notice of them, Severus stormed up the spiral stone staircase to the 9th level, then walked briskly to the lifts at the end of the corridor, got in and slammed the gate shut just as they reached it.

"Oh, for Merlin's sake," Aberforth huffed, his hands on his knees, panting for breath. "A leopard won't change his skin, and a sour git will stay a sour git."

"Language, Aberforth," Minerva scolded as they stepped into the next lift. It rattled into life and started its ascent to the Atrium.

"I hope we manage to catch up with him," Hermione said anxiously. "I really want let to him know how grateful we all are for everything he's done in the shadows."

"You'd be wasting your time, lass," Aberforth grumbled. "He won't listen to any of it. Been wounded in his pride, he has. For some reason, he thinks his love for Lily is scornful."

"I find it rather romantic, actually, that someone would devote his heart to a woman so completely," the brown-haired witch mused. Harry looked at her quizzically.

"Well, don't you go tell him that," Aberforth shrugged. "Not the kind of thing he'd take well."

They finally caught up with Severus as he was retrieving his wand from security. Morag walked up to him and laid her hand on his arm, but he shrugged her off. "Severus –" she started, but he interrupted her, his face hard as stone.

"What gave you the impression I needed or wanted you to intervene?" he snarled. "You should have left me alone, instead of meddling with things that are none of your concern."

Morag frowned and crossed her arms. "Sorry fer saving yer sairy skin, then. Again."

"I never asked to be saved!" he bellowed.

"Och, aye? I should have let them lock ye up, should I? Should have left you tae die, too, perhaps?" she snapped back.

"Maybe you should have!" he raged. "I asked for nothing, and certainly not for an interfering girl to bring my deepest secret out in the open – "

" – I did that because I couldnae bear tae see ye sent to Azkaban!"

"This, I repeat, had nothing – nothing – to do with you, obnoxious witch! What made you assume you had to get involved? Why should you even care what happens to me?"

"I care because I love ye, ye daft fool!" she blurted out, a rosy tinge creeping onto her caramel cheeks.

"You have caused me to be ridiculed in front of my peers," he roared on, then stopped. "… what did you say?"

"Ye bliddy well heard what I said! But it seems lost on ye, since yer pride is clearly the most precious thing in yer life!" she seethed. With that, she turned her back and stomped off towards the exit. They all hurried after her.

The dark-cloaked wizard, who was several paces ahead of the rest of the group, dashed out of the telephone box right behind the young healer, inadvertently knocking over an empty bin. Three pigeons, who'd been searching through a takeaway box on the floor, fluttered away at the commotion, cooing in indignation, and came back to their quarry in a ruffle of feathers.

The heat of Severus' fury had been quenched as surely as if he had been doused in cold water. He called after her. "Morag, I'm sorry –"

"Och, ye're sairy noo, are ye?" she cut him off as she spun around to face him. "Ye ken that pride of yers will be yer undoing, aye?"

"Please listen, Morag –"

"Nae, ye listen tae me, Severus Snape! I willnae be yelled at, or spoken tae like that, d'ye hear me!" Her eyes were pools of dark fury.

"I said I'm sorry – "

"Sairy isnae guid enough! Ye shouted at me in front of yer friends, too! I tell ye, I willnae be treated in that way!" Severus felt a leaden weight in his stomach as vivid memories of his argument with Lily came back to him. The idea of losing Morag was unbearable. He reached for her hand, then thought the better of it. He beckoned over Minerva, Aberforth, Harry and Hermione, who had just burst out of the telephone box. Once they got close enough to hear, he turned to Morag again.

"I apologize for shouting at you, Morag, and for doing so in front of… our friends," he said soberly. "I shall never shout at you in such a manner again. Please forgive me." Harry's eyes were wide with astonishment, and Hermione stood with her mouth agape. Minerva gripped Aberforth arm, tears brimming behind her square spectacles. Morag's features softened, and her eyes locked with Severus'. "All right, then. Apology accepted." He stood in silence, looking back into her almond eyes, and neither of them moved.

Minerva gave a nervous cough. "I suggest we all head back to Hogsmeade and have a drink at the Three Broomsticks to celebrate your release, Severus."

"The Three Broomsticks? With all due respect, Professor, I think we should go to the Hog's Head," Harry smiled. "It may not be as reputable as the Three Broomsticks, but the innkeeper is a good man."

"You lot are welcome, I guess," Aberforth shrugged, but he smiled behind his stringy beard.

"That's settled, then," said Harry, and all of them Disapparated from the narrow London street, leaving the pigeons to their meal.

A few minutes later, the company walked in the dimly-lit inn and grabbed several stools and chairs. Unusually cheerful, Aberforth strode behind his bar and called out, "What will you all youngsters have?"

"I am hardly a youngster, Aberforth, thank you," Minerva reminded him airily.

"My dear Minerva," the innkeeper said with a twinkle in his eyes, "you still have the sparkly eyes and slim figure you had when you first started working at Hogwarts, after all."

The Headmistress blushed at the unexpected compliment and relaxed a little. "I will have a Butterbeer, please."

"How about the others? I can crack open a bottle of Blishen –"

" – not for the students, surely!" the older witch protested.

"Well, they have fought a war against the most powerful Dark wizard Britain has ever known, Minerva. We can stop pretending they're children, don't you think?" Severus said with a wry smile.

"I'll have a Firewhisky, then," Harry said.

"Same," Morag added.

"Make that three, please, Aberforth," Severus said as he leaned back wearily in his chair.

"I'll just have a Butterbeer, thanks," Hermione said. Then, turning to Morag, she asked, "You mentioned the Vow of Asclepius at the trial. I had never heard of it before. What is it?"

"Well, Asclepius was the god of medicine in ancient Greece," the young healer started.

"Oh, I know about Greek mythology. I used to love reading those stories as a child. Asclepius was the son of Appollo and he was supposed to be such a good healer that he could bring people back from the brink of death."

"Am I telling the story or are ye?" Morag quipped.

"Sorry," laughed Hermione. "I have a tendency to do that. Working on it. Please go on," she added.

"Well, long afore the wizarding community started tae get all organized an' creating institutions all over the place, the craft was usually passed on within families, frae one generation tae the next. That's the way it was fer healers too. But because people's lives were in oor hands, since ancient times we've been asked tae take a sacred vow tae care fer oor patients the best we can and treat everyone nae matter who they be. We take it in the name of Asclepius, the Greek god of medicine, of Apollo the god of healing, and of Chiron, wisest of the centaurs and skilled in the arts of medicine and botany."

"Noo, as ye all ken, a community of centaurs live in yon forest. When I was a wee lass, Chiron himself, who has lived many, many centuries an' travels around tae world to visit his kind –"

" – I thought that according to the Greek myth, he had been shot with a poisoned arrow and died?" Hermione said.

"Myths are part history an' part tales, lass. Chiron has powers we can only dream of. He was able tae heal himself after that shot. He sure will die someday, but he can live much longer than we can fathom." Morag explained. "Noo, when I was a wee lass, he came tae visit the centaur community here, an' so I was fortunate enough tae learn a great many things frae him an' take mah oath afore him."

"I thought centaurs did not like humans very much," Harry remarked.

"Aye, they dinnae like it when people meddle in their business, an' they resent the way some wizard an' witches look down on them – which is downright daft if ye ask me, because they're much wiser an' knowledgeable than we are an' nae mistake. But they willnae turn down someone who needs help. They took me in after mah Mam died. I dinnae ken what would have become of me without the centaurs, an' that's the truth."

"Does Chiron still live in the Forbidden Forest?" Hermione enquired.

"Nae, he left the forest in the late 80s. I dinnae ken where he is noo, the other centaurs dinnae tell. They're very private creatures. Like some of oor present company," she added with a chuckle. Severus glared at her before downing his glass.

"Make that another round, Aberforth, please," Morag said, grinning. "It's not often I get tae drink in the company of proper wizards."

"I take it you're proficient in herbology," Hermione said. "Would you mind sharing some of you knowledge, things we wouldn't be taught in Hogwarts?"

"Lass, I dinnae ken what they teach ye in yon school. But I can tell you the forest an' moors round here are full of potent herbs."

Severus glanced at the young healer. Her loose jumper had slid down her shoulder and she was leaning forward as she and Hermione talked – two intelligent witches, deep in conversation. He studied her profile, the velvety brown almond eyes, the soft curve of her cheeks and lips, her hair in a high bun, revealing her slender neck, her smooth golden brown skin. Any second now, she would turn and see him staring at her, and Occlumency would not help: she would see the hunger in his eyes. He tried to look away, but at that moment, she looked around and smiled before returning to her conversation.

After a while, Minerva seemed to remember she was Headmistress. "It's high time we headed back to the castle, Mr Potter, Miss Granger," and the two friends had no choice but to follow her out.

When Morag and Severus walked back from the Hog's Head, it was well past midnight. The young witch, holding his arm, led them towards a small stone cottage at the edge of the wizarding village and pushed open the door. Once they were inside, Morag suddenly wrapped her arms around his chest and lay her head on his shoulder. "Severus. I thought I'd lost ye," she murmured. Her scent wafted up from her hair, making him giddy. He tucked a red curl behind her ear, ran his fingers across her freckle-dotted cheek. Then, he lifted her face to his and kissed her. Her lips were velvety and plump, a lingering taste of Firewhisky still on them, and his pulse quickened. The ravenous hunger he had never been able to satiate finally took over as he pulled her closer.

There was a voice somewhere in his mind, muffled by the happy haze of alcohol, that was telling him to stop, to repress those emotions, to barricade his heart. He ignored it.

Glossary

aboot – about
afore – before, in front of
aye – yes
bliddy – bloody (swearword)
couldnae/dinnae/isnae/willnae – couldn't/don't/isn't/won't
frae – from
guid – good
ken – know
lass – girl
mah – my
maself – myself
noo – now
och – oh
oor – our
sairy – sorry
tae – to
wee – small
ye/yer/yers – you/your/yours
yon – that … over there