Chapter 37 - Sometimes life is being vulnerable.
December 29, 2005

Severus Snape stood at the shoreline, looking out into the black water. It was well past midnight, the house behind him stood quiet and peaceful, but he was not at peace. The first round of interviews had gone well. He'd personally been expecting Valentina to pose as Maria Lopez. The woman had access to everything, and her typical demeanor seemed to be a tad…exaggerated. If a person were already accustomed to portraying a flamboyant personality, it should be easy to emulate someone similar. But Maria's commentary on Valentina had been too scathing. Even if Valentina could overcome some of the influence of Veritaserum (which he suspected would be the case,) it's was highly unlikely she would deliver such an acidic diatribe on herself.

But if not Maria, who was she masquerading as? It was undoubtedly foolish for him to be so personally affronted by the girl's attempts to overthrow Gareth's reign, but as he'd helped create the boy, he felt he had a vested interest in his success. And there was Miss Laurent to consider. Mrs. Laurent, he corrected himself. That exquisite specimen of Slytherin House falling in love with Sirius Black was something he did not understand and must be marked down as a foible of human nature, like a shellfish allergy — unfortunate, possibly fatal, and incomprehensible. Regardless, Mrs. Laurent was a student of his, one of his best, and it was not to be borne that she might be bested by someone trained at Castelobruxo.

He'd worn a furrow in the sand with his pacing, his footsteps running together, but his body was still tense. Eglantine would almost certainly be willing to assist with that— But Severus silenced the thought immediately. While she had made it clear she was more than willing, he did not frequently indulge the offer. He had…attempted to consider the possibility of a…real relationship, but guilt was a powerful numbing agent. She would be better off finding someone not quite so damaged.

"Severus?"

He turned abruptly at the soft voice, posture stiffening, afraid Eglantine would be there at a moment when he knew himself to be vulnerable… Thankfully, it was Miss Laurent. Mrs…

"Are you second guessing me too?" she asked, kicking at a clump of sand as she joined him.

"Not at all," he replied, his voice stern. "And you should not second guess yourself. I admit, I anticipated Mrs. Lopez being the most likely target. As that was not the case, I am considering our next steps."

Lina dropped down to sit on the beach. Severus reluctantly joined her, summoning a cushion from one of the patio chairs to insulate him from the damp sand. She had changed from her evening clothes to her more customary t-shirt, wand strapped to her forearm, and those trousers with the excess of pockets. She pulled a knife from one of them and twirled it absently. "Have you come across people that can beat it? That are immune to Veritaserum?"

"No," he said slowly, "which is why I approved of your method of questioning. Asking their opinions of both Gareth and Valentina should have easily revealed her. But there is a study on people who are, not immune to the potion, but capable of working around it. It's difficult. One has to tell the truth in such as way as to avoid revealing what one most wishes to hide."

"For example?"

Severus sighed. "If you ask, 'What is your opinion of Mr. Rodriguez's leadership?' She would say something like, 'His employees are very fond of him. He has high ideals and is capable of motivating people.' All true statements, but they don't reveal that she personally is not fond of him and despises his high ideals. Ask, 'What have you heard about his relationship with Valentina Rodriguez?' And she replies, 'That woman corrupted his morals and tried to destroy him.' Again true, but doesn't reveal what she personally feels or thinks.''

Lina cursed. "So if the motivation was strong enough, she was on guard, and accustomed to bending the truth, she could get around it. So, someone like us."

He acknowledged the statement with a quick nod. "That doesn't mean it's a bad idea. Most people are not like us. And I was watching for particular wording and physical tells that would have indicated someone we met with today was that sort of person."

She flicked the knife from her hand in a swift movement. It struck a piece of driftwood that Severus could scarcely make out in the darkness. She summoned the knife back, and it zipped through the air, blade spinning. She caught it up in her hand just before it struck her and returned to twirling. "You weren't there when I questioned Ramón," she finally said in a low voice.

"Did he give you any reason to doubt his answers?"

"Not at the time, but after what you just said…they could have been carefully constructed answers. They also could have been the truth," she muttered.

Severus thought through his own interactions with the young man the day he had arrived with Lupin, trying to determine if his words and actions could have been hiding someone more venomous. He had given him a calm and specific account of the last several days of Mr. Rodriguez being in hospital and then back home with Miss McIntyre. He had seemed appropriately concerned. He had, understandably, reacted with fear and confusion when Miss McIntyre raced past them both and transformed into her werewolf form, attempting to retrieve Mr. Rodriguez from the sea. Naturally he'd had to take the young man's wand. It wouldn't do to have him fire off a spell when he didn't understand that they were safe, but there had not been anything overtly suspicious in his behavior. "Mr…what is the man's surname? I don't think I ever heard Mr. Rodriguez use it."

Lina looked at him out of the corner of her eye with a half smile. "Castillo. Gareth tends not to be quite as formal with people's names as you are."

Pointless to respond to that comment. "I was merely going to say that Mr. Castillo was not aware of the lycanthropy before the day we arrived to help, that is, the twenty-first. He was quite taken aback seeing Miss McIntyre transform, and then Mr. Rodriguez be plucked from the water in his own werewolf form. I can not tell you whether or not it is likely that the man I met was, in fact, Valentina Rodriguez. I certainly had no suspicions of it until this moment. Indeed, the one thing that is suspicious is that the young man claimed he was feeling poorly and requested a couple days sick leave after driving us to the administrative offices this afternoon."

"Naturally. That's why I'm questioning my questioning," Lina huffed, standing to her feet and beginning to pace in the same furrow he'd dug with his own uneasiness.

"And what do you propose should be the next course of action?" That was perhaps a bit unnecessary, employing his "Head of House Voice," but really Miss Laurent was becoming positively morbid over a situation she was more than capable of dealing with. And it worked. The Voice made her stop pacing and face him, her shoulders stiff.

"We find him and interrogate him again," she replied, her own voice cold. The phone in one of her many pockets chirped loudly. She whipped it out, glaring at the screen. He watched her posture relax ever so slightly. "But first," she said, a predatory smile crossing her face, "we break into Valentina's crypt and see who, if anyone, is there. My contact found the location."

"In a magical cemetery?" he cautioned. "We'll need more than the location."

"He says the doorman will give us access. I don't want to wake the others, it will be simpler with just us. Unless you'd rather not. The Headmaster of Hogwarts probably shouldn't be caught grave robbing."

That face. He hadn't seen that face in a while, eleven-year-old Evangeline Laurent thinking she might be getting one over on him. "Then it is fortunate for you that I have never been caught attempting anything," he replied, straightening to his full height to peer down at her.

She narrowed her eyes, but broke first, one side of her mouth twisting up as she tried not to smile. He almost smiled back.

Gareth stretched out on his bed, staring at the starry sky through the open balcony door. It was well after midnight and he should have been asleep, his room hadn't felt so safe and peaceful in a long time. But his thoughts whirled too fast to settle into sleep. Deirdre had played her part to perfection tonight, and he didn't think he'd done too badly either. Not that his part had been difficult. Catch sight of her. Check. She and Sirius had walked into the restaurant after the rest of them were already at a table. She was wearing some sleek pantsuit in a blue-green color, her hair twisted up on top of her head, showing off long silver earrings, and accentuating her neck and bare shoulders. Act interested. Check. She was stunning. Even knowing it was part of a plan, he lost the thread of the group's conversation, following her with his eyes as she walked across the room to her own table. He kept glancing at her as Sirius came over to talk. Pretend you haven't seen each other for years. Check. He said all the right things, inviting the pair to join their party, standing as she approached the table. She said all the right things too, reminding him of her friendship with Isabel and their previous meeting at Bill Weasley's wedding.

It had been a pretty fun evening, trying to stay in character, making a few light, flirtatious comments to watch how Deirdre would react. He'd almost been able to forget about the other side of the plan, that they were baiting a trap for Valentina. It had been an exhausting afternoon interviewing people at the office. He'd been hyper aware of people's movements, facial expressions, and words. They discovered the people there actually did like working for him, a few of them had decidedly odd tastes in some areas of their lives, and the veterans of the firm felt both he and they were well rid of the association with Luís' daughter and that side of the family. It was helpful to know Valentina was not masquerading as the staff he'd worked most closely with, but it also felt they were no closer to finding her.

Ugh. I don't want to think about that. He reached for the small photograph on the bedside table, Deirdre smiling back at him before she turned her head away, the shy movement caught in time. He wasn't even sure he'd managed to get a decent shot of her until he had it developed. He'd taken it just after the war, and it had lived most of the years since then under the lining of his guitar case, a poignant reminder of what had almost been. But now, now the real thing was so tantalizingly close.

He laid the photo on the pillow beside him and reached for his phone. This would probably get him a scolding from Lina, but he didn't care. Besides, if she was already asleep she wouldn't see the text until the morning, and he was supposed to follow up in a couple days anyway.

I enjoyed seeing you tonight. I'm glad you came to visit Lima.

He waited, thinking if she didn't respond quickly he'd let it go and actually try to sleep. But she replied almost immediately.

Me too. It was nice to reconnect. :)

He smiled. The texts had to be just so, in case someone saw them. Only Maria and Ramón knew Deirdre had been the one to come look after him when he got out of the hospital. For the rest of the world this would be an unexpected meeting that would build into a romance. He'd noticed Condesa de Grimaldi at her customary corner table in the restaurant, surrounded by her usual sycophants. There was no way she'd missed their performance. He hit dial.

"Hiya," came her soft voice.

"Hey yourself. I know I was supposed to wait a couple days before I called to ask you out on a date, but I couldn't. That happens in real life sometimes, right?"

She laughed. "I wouldn't know about that, but I'll not complain. Can you not sleep, then?"

"No, I keep replaying you walking in wearing that pantsuit." He whistled appreciatively into the phone.

She laughed again. "Sorry, I can't take you seriously when you use the word pants."

He smiled, rolling his eyes, though she couldn't see him. "You're hilarious. What do you call it?"

"A trouser suit. I couldn't believe I was brave enough to wear something sleeveless out in public, but Sirius insisted."

"Bravo, Sirius." He heard her try to stifle a yawn. "I don't want to keep you. You should get some sleep."

"It's your fault. Your voice is yummy. I just want to curl up and let you talk me to sleep."

"So I'm boring?" he laughed, knowing that wasn't what she meant, but unable to resist teasing her.

"Don't be daft." There was silence then she said softly, "You make me feel safe."

"Good." He almost choked on the lump in his throat. "Are you okay there? I mean, you've checked the locks on the door and…everything?" He had a moment of almost panic. What good were locks if Valentina came after her? "Maybe you should stay in your wolf form," he suggested, sitting up in his bed. "Or I could come over. I could be there in less than ten minutes, just need to walk out past the anti-apparation border."

"Gareth, I'm all right. Sirius is next door, and he put up all sorts of protection spells. You can't just show up here, Lina would be furious if you cocked up her plan."

"Right, you're right," he said, swiping a hand over his face. "I just…I don't know what I'd do if something happened to you. I wasted so much time, and now—"

"Tell me about having school with Hawthorne on the reservation," she interrupted. "It can be my bedtime story, one memory every night."

He shook his head, smiling to himself at her obvious attempt at redirecting his runaway thoughts. "Your personal Scheherazade, is that it?"

"Start with that, I don't know what that means."

He huffed a soft laugh. "Scheherazade told a story to the king of Persia that lasted a thousand and one nights. I could probably tell you a thousand and one memories. That will take us through the next three years. So, Hawthorne came to the reservation when I was nine, I think, maybe ten. He started out just volunteering to read out loud in the evenings. We did that already, but he'd brought so many books with him…" Gareth smiled, remembering being almost mesmerized by his measured, resonant voice. Their evenings had gone from children's stories to Shakespeare and Dickens, with Agatha Christie and Sir Arthur Conan Doyle thrown in for good measure. And as Hawthorne saw the children actually paying attention and curious about the stories, he would pause and explain things, words and idioms, and cultural context. Gareth talked for a good twenty minutes, and then caught the soft sound of her yawning again. "Okay, I'm hanging up now. I'll tell you another memory tomorrow night."

"I can't wait. I love you, Gareth."

He sighed, somehow both content and desperately longing for more. "I love you too. Sleep well." And he quickly ended the call before he found some reason to keep her on the line.

"This is it," Lina murmured, staring up at the stone edifice, its domed roof soaring above them. "There's a mausoleum behind the church, and a cemetery for magic users underneath, reserved for the old families." The moon was hardly a sliver in inky black sky, most of the stars lost in the glow of the city lights. The iron gate creaked softly as it was opened, and they moved through the courtyard of the church silently, mere shadows in the black of the night. A security guard came around the corner, whistling, and froze as he caught sight of them. "We need access to the magical crypt," Lina said. "Are you the doorman?"

The man looked at her in confusion, his hand on a gun at his waist. "Necesitamos acceso a la cripta mágica," Severus tried. The man looked even more confused, pulling out a radio of some kind with his other hand, the first unlocking the strap that kept the gun in its holster. Severus sighed. Muggle. He quickly cast a stunning spell, the man falling with a thud to the pavement. After moving his unconscious form out of sight, they went around the back of the church to the mausoleum, dealt with the locks, and entered the large room, their footsteps echoing off tile, stone, and marble.

Lina paced out the space, then stood there a moment, hands on her hips as she surveyed the room. "Light it up," she finally shrugged, and the the two of them cast spell after spell hoping to quickly reveal the entrance to the lower level. After several minutes they had to admit defeat.

"We split up," Severus directed, "check every door, wall panel, crypt covering, plaque, or crack in the floor for traces of magic."

They moved in opposite directions and began methodically going over each tomb. "Is this is a good time to ask you about Eglantine?" Lina called, her voice overly loud in the space.

Severus paused his steps and turned to look at her, certain the displeasure was obvious on his face. "That's a bit intrusive, don't you think? You're allowing your husband's idiosyncrasies to influence you."

Lina cocked her head at him, her eyes narrowed. "Perhaps." She smiled wryly. "Sirius does love a bit of gossip, but I've discovered it's because he cares about people." She turned back to the crypt she was studying, running her fingertips over the raised edge of the name plate. "We are friends, aren't we? And it occurred to me that I've never actually asked you about it, given you the chance to share anything."

He snorted derisively and turned away.

"Yes, that was my first thought too," she continued. "But then I remembered the day that Artemis told me she was pregnant with Ana. I didn't know what to say. I told her I was the 'help hide the bodies' sort of friend, not a 'cooing over the baby' sort. And I thought, well, even if I'm only that sort of friend, I should have asked you, because I do care."

In that moment Severus felt very old and very tired. He never would have imagined a day that a student of his would have the cheek to inquire into his personal life. Somehow he'd lost all ability to terrorize and intimidate. It made him feel vulnerable. But there's a satisfaction there too, don't deny it, a little voice in his head piped up. You like that Lina considers you a friend, that someone cares. His mind flashed to a memory, a twelve-year old Lily Evans, listening to him mutter some complaint about someone. 'You have to be a friend to have a friend,' she'd said and nudged him with her shoulder. He didn't remember what else had followed, it was like a photograph, one moment captured in time. And it hadn't worked. He didn't know how to be a friend. Never too late to learn something new, interrupted the little voice. This time the voice sounded smug, and suspiciously like Lupin.

"I respect her work and enjoy her company," he said slowly, his voice carrying clearly through the room, though he'd intentionally kept it low.

"So you like her, but that's uncomfortable for you and you're not certain you're emotionally trustworthy." Lina said softly.

Severus froze.

"Sorry," Lina sighed. "I knew I'd muck it up. That was what Artemis said to me when Sirius was…being himself and I didn't know how to handle it. You and I are enough alike that I thought…it might help to know someone was on your side. Shutting up now." She moved away toward the next vault.

He swallowed, feeling a cold that had nothing to do with the ambient temperature. "I…I will take your words under advisement." That was all he could manage in the moment, and it was a relief to know she would understand and not press him further. He tried to refocus, squinting at the next crypt in the row, the name "E. L. Portero" was printed on the bronze plaque, and underneath a phrase, Custodit Ostium Mortuorum. Odd. No dates, and the phrase was Latin, not Spanish. "Here," he called softly, his voice echoing in the cavern-like space.

Lina joined him. "Why do you think it's this one?"

"No dates. And I believe the phrase means something like 'He guards the gate of the dead.' Which is also convenient, because his name means The Doorman," Severus said with a sardonic smile, tapping the name with his wand. "El portero." As soon as the words left his mouth the stone block began to slide back. It was a loud, grating sound, and they both took a step backwards.

"Artemis would have loved this," Lina muttered, holding her wand out, the light barely illuminating the descending staircase that had appeared, "and probably quoted Indiana Jones."

They followed the steps down, their wand light giving the passageway an eerie glow. The cool, dry passage opened into a large square chamber, the walls lined with tombs, stacked four high. "Blimey, this whole section is nothing but Rodriguez," Lina muttered, quickly scanning the names on the tombs. "Goes back two centuries. Ah, here she is…Valentina Pilar Rodriguez 1978 — 2004. How do you want to open it?"

Severus stepped back, studying the layout. The tomb was the one closest to the ceiling in this column. "I believe if we remove the front panel, the casket should slide out like a drawer. What did you use to open Dumbledore's tomb?"

Lina gave him a sideways glance. "Sectumsempra," she finally said, a little sheepishly.

He looked at her, his silence demanding an explanation.

"It was a teaching moment," she protested. "On the neutrality of spells and the motive and control of the caster. I merely pointed out to Harry that he had used the spell to harm someone and I was going to use it as a tool to cut open the stone."

"Effective," he said dryly. "But I believe Diffindo should suffice."

They made quick work of the front panel of stone, shifting it away and levitating the casket out and down to the ground. Severus cast a few quick spells, checking for any curses laid on the casket, but it was clean. Lina took a breath and shoved open the top, the faint, sickly sweet smell of embalming chemicals and decay wafting out.

"Damn," she hissed, staring at the body.

It was Ramón Castillo lying there.

"Pity. I rather liked the young man," Severus said quietly.

"So did I," Lina muttered. "But you never met the real one."

"So she didn't choose someone with access to the company. She chose someone with access to—"

"Gareth," Lina finished, her voice tight and hands gripping the side of the coffin.