Chapter Eight: The Rise and Fall of the Dark Arts

As the first of September loomed ever closer and Snape remained absent, the chasm in my chest grew increasingly wider. I'd felt a little guilty about constantly badgering Tethys for information, but if he didn't turn up soon, I would have no choice in the matter of returning to school; I wouldn't be able to get to King's Cross Station without his help, thanks to his indominable barriers.

I couldn't have said why, but for the most part I'd put off reading the book Tethys had gotten for me. I'd been so adamant about having the book in the first place, that it seemed silly to have allowed it to sit untouched on the bedside table for as many days as I had. But still, it wasn't until the evening of August 31st, the night before I was meant to be boarding the Hogwarts Express, that I finally opened The Rise and Fall of the Dark Arts.

Sitting cross-legged on the center of the bed, I flipped open the cover. The book was one I was only vaguely familiar with; I knew it was more about the rise and fall of Voldemort, than simply the "dark arts." I hoped that somehow, it could help me understand Snape better; give me some insight into his past as a follower of Voldemort, and maybe even help prepare me to stand at his side and fight, if it came to that. I didn't know if or how it would be useful, but it had to be worth a look.

Even at Ilvermorny, our History of Magic class went into some of the details concerning Voldemort's rise to power back in the late 1960s, so I skimmed through the first few chapters as they contained little that I didn't already know. Some of the details regarding his true name (Tom Marvolo Riddle) and his schooling at Hogwarts were new to me. While I'd primarily been looking for more information on the Death Eaters, the part about Harry piqued my interest.

'The fall of Lord Voldemort was brought upon by the most unlikely of wizards. Much mystery surrounds the circumstances of the night of All Hallow's Eve, the 31st of October, in 1981.' My birthday. The day I turned two, I noted absently. 'Lord Voldemort traveled to the village of Godric's Hollow, once home to both the Potters and the Dumbledores, among other renowned Wizarding families. It is widely believed that Lord Voldemort visited Godric's Hollow not on a whim, but on a specific mission to seek out the Potter family. Upon arriving at the village, he entered the Potters home and made an attempt to murder the infant child, fifteen month old Harry Potter, with the killing curse. For reasons unknown to this day, Harry Potter survived the curse and a great explosion ensued, blowing apart most of the second floor of the home and ending the reign of the Dark Lord at once. The only known person to survive the killing curse, Harry Potter became known as the Boy Who Lived, and was left an orphan after the murders of his parents, James and Lily Potter…'

My brain jammed. Lily. That name bounced through the confines of my head over and over, and suddenly my mind was a long way away from Snape's house, back at Hogwarts once again.

His voice… 'It's remarkable… how much you look like her… like… Lily…'

Lily.

'Sixteen years ago, the most important person in my life was taken from me, and I was, in part, at fault…'

Lily Potter.

'I never thought… after Lily… that I could care about someone again. I never wanted to. I sentenced myself to solitude as penance for her death.'

Harry's mother.

And my voice… 'It's her that I look like, isn't it? The girl I resemble is… the girl you lost.'

The room seemed to be spinning around me as emotions churned like a tornado in my stomach. I clutched fistfuls of the jade comforter in each hand to ground myself, trying to form coherent thoughts as the puzzle pieces clicked together. Sixteen, nearly seventeen, years ago, on my birthday, Lily Potter was murdered by Voldemort. It wasn't a coincidence of names. Snape had been in love… with Harry's mother. But how… how could that be? He held so much contempt towards Harry… was always so harsh towards him… it didn't make sense.

No. It all made perfect sense.

His voice again… 'You'd turn my inventions on me, like your filthy father, would you?'

Ugly hatred had surfaced from within him when he mentioned Harry's father. Hatred for the man his love had chosen; for the man who helped to create half of the boy born to Lily Potter.

I didn't even notice I'd started crying until beads of water appeared on the pages of the book, blurring the text and wrinkling the paper where each droplet fell. Instantly, I felt annoyed with myself. When had I become such a crybaby?

"Rowan?" Snape's voice recalled me back to my surroundings. I'd been so lost in thought that I hadn't even heard him come in.

"You're here," I said, unthinking, and the fact that my thoughts were locked on Lily Potter was the only thing holding me in place.

His arms were full of textbooks, his gaze, lingering on me as tear tracks ran down my cheeks. "Are you alright?"

"Will you tell me…" I said, the words strangled in my throat, as I gripped the blanket even tighter. "Tell me about… Lily Potter?"

The books crashed to the floor in a mess of paper and leather, landing every which way. For several seconds he remained frozen, looking stricken and speechless. Then he glided through the pile of texts over to the bed and snatched the burgundy book that had been splayed open on my lap. His eyes scanned the page in a heartbeat and he let out a long exhale. "I see," he said flatly, turning his face away. He fixated on the floorboards at his feet and I fixated on him - on the familiarity of his profile and his posture and his smell.

"Your Lily was Harry's mother," I said quietly.

He gave a light scoff. "She was not my Lily, do not be mistaken. She… she belonged to him. But yes, she was Potter's mother. Lily Evans was her name back then…"

"But why… you blame yourself for her death. Why?" My voice was strained, my heart twisting for his pain. "What happened that night?"

Somehow, his anguished eyes turned even darker than their usual obsidian color. "I had a hollow, shameful hope that you would never find out… It was unforgivable…" he spoke in a near whisper, every word tinged with quiet sorrow. "Though perhaps you would be far better off, if you knew the worst of me. Nothing else seems to keep you away, so maybe if you knew what I was capable of, you would finally learn to hate me…"

I frowned at him, bewildered. "You'll never understand… will you?"

Snape looked up from the floorboards, meeting my swimming eyes, and when he spoke it was in his coldest tone. "No, you will never understand. I do not deserve forgiveness. I don't have any right to accept your compassion. I've done reprehensible things. Things for which I had no remorse at the time… things that culminated in her death. I followed the Dark Lord willingly; served him eagerly." He jerked the sleeve of his cloak up to his elbow, revealing a tattoo a shade of red so deep it was as though blood was seeping through his skin. The marking of a Death Eater, in the shape of a skull with a snake protruding out of its gaping mouth, took up nearly the entire length of his forearm. "This is what I was. Vicious. Vile. Monstrous." His face was marred by disgust as he tugged the fabric back down to conceal the vivid tattoo.

Streams of salty tears ran down my cheeks worse than ever. "Why can't you accept that… that I don't care what you've done? Do I have to say it again? A thousand times? Because I will. Do you think I'll change my mind? That you can scare me off? Or that you'll leave for a few days and the feelings will disappear? Is that why you're always trying to push me away? I'll never stop. And I'll never give up on trying to heal the darkness that you carry. No matter what you've done… no matter who you were… I forgive you."

I swallowed the sobs that rose in my throat as Snape's unfathomable eyes looked at me, a long, searching look, his lips parted slightly. "You refuse to give up on this… don't you?"

"Yes. I refuse to give up until you honestly tell me that you don't want me," I said. "But even so, I know it would be a lie. Another way to hide from your feelings; to punish yourself and run away from what you truly want."

Snape hesitated; the anguish had been replaced by a look of conceding wonder. "How do you see inside me the way you do?" he intoned, his deep voice silky and low. And then he leaned over the bed in one swift motion, taking my tear-soaked face in his hands and moving so close that we were breathing the same air. "How is it that someone like you would choose me, out of everyone? It's an outrageous mistake. And yet… the most reprehensible thing of all is that I can't seem to make myself stop wanting you. I selfishly, arrogantly want to be with you."

"Then have me," I said steadily despite the sensation of my heartbeat pulsating through my entire body. He was far too intoxicating for his own good. "It's not a mistake."

"It's dangerous."

"I don't care."

"Every day, we may very well be risking the destruction of the Wizarding world as we know it."

"I don't care," I repeated, and something shifted in his eyes. I suddenly felt like something in him might change; like some of darkness might finally begin to heal.

And this time, when he kissed me, it was delicate and soft and tasted like oceanwater as my tears ran between us. His lips sent a million volts down my spine. When our mouths parted he pulled back only slightly and rested his forehead against mine, the black strands of his hair falling into my eyes and I could smell the faint scent of brewed potions.

"I do love you, Rowan," he whispered, sending my unsuspecting body into shock. It was the first time he'd actually said the words aloud. And I knew then that at last we had reached the point of no return; we were hopeless as a snowfall at the cusp of spring, in a love that was as forbidden as it was deep, and there was no turning back now.

"Rowan? Wake up, it's nearly time to go," said a comforting voice from the depths of my mind. "It's nearly 10:00, are you always so lazy?"

"Huh?" I muttered, feeling flummoxed until I was conscious enough to click my memories from last night back into order. Once Snape was able to accept that I wanted to be with him regardless of his past, he finally gave in, fully, to his feelings; more than just the fleeting kisses… more than just momentary vulnerability… and so, he stayed.

Despite that I had an infinite number of questions itching like an incessant gnat around my brain, I'd been determined to soak in what little time I had with Snape before returning to Hogwarts, where things would be much more complicated. I never did attempt return to the discussion about Lily Potter. The topic seemed to have discomposed him - it was clear that he was not ready to open up those particular wounds. And for a few, short-lived moments, we were able to relax and just simply exist together.

"It's going to be so hard, keeping my distance from you," I'd said to him as we sat together atop the dark green blankets.

"Perhaps… but it is absolutely essential," he said warningly, and I could feel the vibration of his voice as I rested my head against the pressed white shirt covering his chest. For the first time possibly in all of history, Snape had abandoned his cloak and his knee-length coat (only with much persuasion on my part). White was an odd color on him; he was already so pale that the brightness nearly blended with his ivory skin tone, though it made the boldness of his black hair and eyes stand out even more brilliantly than usual. However, I couldn't decide which sight was more bizarre: Snape in white, or Snape in socks. Something new that I learned about him was that he, apparently, was quite vehemently against shoes on the bed linens – so much so that he was willing to strip down to his socks to climb in next to me. "We will have to be exceedingly cautious whilst at Hogwarts. The Dark Lord has arranged for a continuous patrol of Death Eaters: in the halls, in the common rooms, teaching classes… and dementors are set to be stationed at all the exits. It is crucial that we are not seen, and of course, it cannot appear as though I am granting you any special treatment."

"I know that. Don't worry, I'll be careful," I said, poking at a loose button on his shirt. "But, I thought you didn't want me returning to school? Not that I'm complaining or anything, but what made you change your mind?"

"Would you have agreed to stay here if I'd asked?"

I peered up at him from his chest; his brow was raised inquiringly. "No, of course not," I said. He gave me a meaningful look. "Well I didn't think I'd have a choice in the matter."

"I wouldn't confine you here against your will," he said, and I thought he sounded slightly offended. "Indeed, I would certainly prefer if you stayed here, it would be undoubtedly safer. I did not, however, delude myself into thinking that you would be agreeable to any such arrangements. Nevertheless, the self-indulgent part of me wants you close by, so that I can see you, even if only for brief moments."

That explained the textbooks, which remained in a heap on the floor where Snape had dropped them. "You're right. I wouldn't have agreed. Isn't attendance mandatory, anyway?" I said, reaching to take the hand that wasn't fitted around my waist.

"Yes. The Dark Lord intends to have any student who does not report to Hogwarts hunted down. He will spare no effort, but I am quite certain that I would have been able to hide you well enough. What are you doing?"

I'd been twisting and twirling our fingers together, locking and lacing and tracing the shape of his hand as I tried to wrap my brain around the idea of what a real relationship with Severus Snape would look like… and knowing that, at least for the foreseeable future, it wouldn't be a real relationship at all. "Memorizing every detail…" I said meditatively. "So tomorrow… I'm going back to Hogwarts then."

I felt him nod. "I have arranged an undetectable portkey to King's Cross Station at 10:30 AM."

"Will you stay here with me? Until it's time to go?" I asked, sliding my thumb along the inside of his palm. The veins that ran like river channels along his wrist were prominent and bluish.

His abdomen rose and fell with the tempo of his breath. "I will stay," he said quietly as he closed his hand around mine, stopping the constant intertwining movements and holding tight. My hand fit inside of his perfectly.

I'd fallen asleep like that – curled into the space along his body that seemed as though it had been made for me – and for the first time in countless nights, I didn't need a Sleeping Draught to keep the nightmares away. I was afraid he would be gone when I woke up; he'd had a habit of slipping away from me, as transient as a mirage… but in the morning, his arms were still holding me close.

"So it wasn't a dream," I said blearily as I rubbed the haze of sleep from my eyes.

"It would appear not," said Snape, smiling in a soft way that I'd never seen him smile before; in a way that made my heart pause mid-beat, and I couldn't possibly stop the heat that burned in my cheeks. Would he always have this effect on me?

His black hair was tousled slightly, his formerly crisp shirt now wrinkled with an indent in the shape of my head. I'd always thought he was striking in his signature polished state - I'd never seen him looking anything less than precise and orderly. But now, a bit unkempt… a tad disarrayed… he was brutally, breathlessly alluring. Without first considering, I leaned up and gave him a small kiss, then shrank back and looked away, resisting the urge to hide my face in my hands… I must have been positively lobster-ish. Was I allowed to do that now?

He'd certainly noticed my blush, because he reached out and cupped my face in his hands, tilting my head up towards him, and responded with a second light kiss.

"No cloak, no coat, no shoes… messy hair… smiling," I said, and I couldn't suppress a giggle; the entire scenario seemed so far beyond reality it was as though my brain could simply not accept it. "You're breaking all your rules now, aren't you? When is the last time someone's seen you in socks?"

He resumed a familiar, Snape-like sneer as he clambered out of the bed and immediately reached for his black leather shoes. "It's your fault, you know…" he said, carefully tying the laces.

"I know," I sang, smiling up at him. "And I wouldn't have it any other way."

His sneer faded as he glowered at the clock, pulling on his coat and fastening the endless array of buttons. "As Headmaster, it is probably best that I am not late on the first day of term."

"Right…" I said, understanding that as my cue to get ready to leave, and not twenty minutes later I stood dressed and almost presentable for the start of a new school year. I hoped that Ginny wouldn't be suspicious of my whereabouts this summer, but the Gryffindor-colored sweater hung a bit loosely on my still-underweight frame. I'd put a few pounds back on as Tethys had been feeding me quite generously, but not enough that I was back to my normal, healthy size.

Grabbing my undetectably extended purse from the nightstand, I went over to the pile of scattered books. "Thanks for getting my books for me… Oh! I can't forget to say goodbye to Tethys before I go," I said to Snape, picking up a brand new copy of Practically Impractical Potions by Libatius Borage and giving it a brief glace-over before dropping it into my maroon bag. He, meanwhile, was inspecting a set of old brass scales – now turned portkey – to ensure that his anti-tracing spells were intact.

Pop! The one-eared elf appeared out of thin air as if summoned by the sound of her name. "Good morning miss!" she trilled. "Tethys hopes you slept…" her huge eyes landed on her master, and, taking in his appearance, she began to squeal like a strangled hyena as she drew her own conclusions.

"Tethys!" Snape snapped. The noise of elation stopped at once. "Miss Pierce will be leaving shortly. She would like to say a proper goodbye."

The smile dropped from her face. "Yes, Master," she said, keeping a pleasant tone. She charged to me and bowed deeply, then began picking up the mess of schoolbooks. "It has been Tethys' great pleasure to serve you, miss."

"Stop that, I'll get them," I laughed. "Give me a hug, would you? You've been wonderful, Tethys. Thank you for being a friend."

The elf's glistening eyes widened hugely. "Friend?" she asked, and began to convulse with sobs.

Kneeling down, I wrapped my arms around her tiny body. "Of course. Please don't cry, silly. I'm sure we will see each other again soon. Don't roll your eyes," I said, for Snape was looking rather irritated by Tethys' hysterics.

Teardrops dripped from the tip of her long nose as she sniffled and hiccupped. She was hardly able to contain herself as she blew her nose in her shirt and bowed once more. "Tethys is proud to be called your friend, miss. Tethys looks forward to the day we meet again."

Then, she vanished from my arms with a snap.

"She's been my only companion for the past few weeks… really the only friendly contact I've had in months. I'll miss her," I said gloomily, slumping over my bag as I tossed in a few more texts. "We chatted a lot, you know. She's worried about Hogwarts… of the ways it'll be different now." The final book on the floor seemed to emphasize my words: The Muggle Epidemic: A Guide to Recognizing and Understanding the Dangers of Muggles, Muggle-Borns, and Muggle-Sympathizers and the Threats They Pose to Wizarding Society Today. "Seriously?" I held up the thick volume as evidence, crinkling my nose in distaste.

Snape scowled. "Tethys is not mistaken. The curriculum has been amended to push an agenda that is entirely anti-Muggle and anti-Muggle-born, and the rules, along with the consequences for not abiding by them, have been considerably modified."

My insides seethed silently as I packed the hateful textbook with reluctance. "Should make for an interesting year…"

"I don't suppose asking you to mind your attitude would be of any benefit?" he asked dubiously.

I smirked, getting to my feet. "Nope. Not even Uncle Arawn could snuff out this flame." But as I said the words, I realized they were not altogether truthful. Perhaps my fire wasn't "snuffed out," but it was certainly dimmed a bit. I felt different somehow. First, mom's death… then, dad's betrayal… and now, being tortured and held captive by my uncle… had left me cracked. Imperfect. Like a window with a fracture down the center: still keeping out the elements, pretending to be intact, but fragile and ready to burst apart dangerously when just the right amount of force connected with just the right point of weakness.

Snape made a noise of dissent that indicated he suspected as much. "I would advise against your usual cheekiness; it can only result in a very unpleasant experience for you. There is something I must warn you about…" he said softly. "As you can guess given the book, Muggle Studies is a now a required course for all students. And… it will be taught by Hogwarts' newly appointed Deputy Headmistress… Alecto Carrow."

A hot and seasick feeling erupted in my stomach. "Now!? You decide to enlighten me with this bit of information now!?" I said, rather more sharply than I had intended. The portkey he'd arranged was letting out a faint buzzing sound, as though it was eager to get going, and the clock on the wall was nearing the 10:30 AM mark more rapidly than seemed logical.

"I should have told you sooner, however I was hesitant to diminish our time together even more than I already had," said Snape, his black eyes drooping slightly.

I raked a hand through my hair. "No, you're right. It's alright. It would have made little difference. I just… have to figure out how I'm going to handle this."

"You will handle it by doing nothing," he shot quickly, expression colored with concern. "I am serious. This is not a matter to take lightly or dismiss with your usual complacency. Promise me you will not intentionally seek out a fight against Alecto Carrow. Please."

I crossed my arms with a pout. "I'll do my best... no promises though…" I muttered, feeling a bit like a child. The seasick feeling had only intensified, bubbling even more frenziedly now that the brass scales were clanging themselves violently against the tabletop as the clock showed just one minute until 10:30 AM.

Slinging the strap of my bag across my body and double-checking my wand pocket a final time, I looked to Snape, whose obsidian eyes were piercing my own. I hoisted a probably-unconvincing look of enthusiasm onto my face. "It'll all be fine. We'll get through this. Harry will defeat him, we will be together, and everything will go back to how it should be," I said, nearly yelling over the sounds of the raucous portkey. I took both of his hands and weaved my fingers through his. "Alright then… I'll see you on the other side."

Our lips met briefly but fiercely one last time. I forced back the tightness in my throat as I wrapped my arms around him and he held me against his chest.

"I love you, Severus," I said, my voice barely audible over the earsplitting clatter.

"And I love you, Rowan. Be safe."

Without allowing myself the time to hesitate, I spun away from him and clasped my fingers onto the cool brass.

Chapter Soundtrack: Ruelle - The Other Side