APOE, Chapter 10
Here's the next chapter of Another Plane of Existence.
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Hesitant Desire
Severus never did hear back from his mother, though he’d really been too busy to give it much thought. School was requiring more of his time than it ever had before.
He’d ended up doing very well on Kennicot’s assignment; she had been so impressed with his essay that she’d asked him to demonstrate his scenario for the class. He complied without argument, bringing a non-partisan student-Isaac Brewster, a Hufflepuff-up to the front of the class to help with the presentation. Severus didn’t want anyone suspecting that his success was somehow related to a Slytherin ploy, and he didn’t want a Gryffindor like Pettigrew or Black to lie and discredit him. He wasted no energy towards making his presentation overly dramatic; his presentation had been short and to the point. He simply performed his nonverbal spell, Muffliato, and spoke in low tones to Brewster while the rest of the class blinked at him in stupidity, unable to hear anything but a strange, buzzing, white noise.
It was quite a success, and even the Gryffindors had been impressed. Lupin, in particular, seemed interested in the mechanics of Severus’s spell. Naturally, Severus didn’t give away any information (learning from the last time one of his spells had been loosed upon the school), and basked in his short-lived superiority with smug silence. Lupin, whose essay had been equally praised by Kennicot, also demonstrated his work. He used the Disillusionment Charm--an admittedly difficult bit of wand work--as camouflage, and passed on the information enclosed in a piece of parchment that needed a special password before the message could be read.
It wasn’t the Disillusionment Charm that Severus found so impressing, but the little manipulative used on the parchment. Severus had encountered magic like that before, but Lupin’s performance made Severus feel a bit envious. The two students had a sort of unspoken rivalry between them-subtler than Severus’s rivalry with Potter or Black. This was mostly because Severus couldn’t stand that Lupin was such a pushover. Lupin’s humble nature was nauseating.
Even now, as Severus headed to Professor Sprout’s class to enquire about a recent test mark, he made the mental note to research spells on message concealment during his next visit to the library.
Professor Sprout’s office was located between the kitchens and the Hufflepuff Common Room. She’d recently given the N.E.W.T. students a test on the differences between Flitterbloom and Devil’s Snare, including a rather challenging practical. The students had to identify and label the parts of a dozen different plants. Severus, whose interest in plants was limited to their applicable uses in potion brewing, was worried he’d done poorly.
When Professor Sprout, a young, bubbly professor, mentioned that the students could stop by her office to confirm their marks, he decided to take her up on that offer.
He approached her door and rapped twice.
“Come in!” she called out.
He opened the door and stepped in softly. Professor Sprout was at her desk, listening to a broadcast on the Wizarding Wireless Network. It was the first time he’d seen her without a hat on, and the hair on top of her head was matted down, resembling a crater in her curly, brown hair. He stared at her for a moment before clearing his throat.
“Good morning, Professor Sprout.”
She smiled at him, and her round cheeks grew even rounder, if it were at all possible. “Oh, hello, Severus. How are you?”
“I’m fine, Professor,” he replied. “You mentioned that we could stop by for our test marks?”
“Yes, yes, of course,” she replied with a smile. “You’re the first one I’ve seen today.” She rifled through some papers on her desk, thumbing through them quickly and pulling one aside. She smoothed it out with her earth-stained hands. “Ah, here we are.”
He glanced down at the parchment, recognizing his small, cramped writing. At the top of the paper, in bright, bottle green was the letter “A”. “Acceptable,” he murmured.
“Yes,” Professor Sprout acknowledged, “which leaves quite a bit of room for improvement, if I may say so.” She pointed at one of the short essay questions, and Severus winced at the number of inky green comments written in the margins. “You might want to flesh something like this out a bit more next time. The areas where you can locate the plants are fine, but noting climate, dirt composition, and altitude is also useful for people planning to recreate the appropriate conditions for cultivation.”
He nodded dully. He had been hoping that he would have slid by with an E, but supposed he would have to spend more time studying for Herbology in the future. “Thank you, Professor.”
“On, it’s nothing, Mr. Snape. Are you off to Hogsmeade?”
He nodded.
“That’s nice,” Professor Sprout said with a smile. “It’s been a tick since I’ve been to the Three Broomsticks. I hope you have a nice time. Behave yourself.”
“I will, Professor.” He gave her a tight, forced smile before leaving, and once he’d exited her room he inhaled deeply and heaved a large sigh. Knowing he’d performed below his own expectations was disappointing.
Oddly enough, he found walking through the Hufflepuff corridor mildly comforting; the air was warm and smelled of spices and cooking meat. A lot of students liked to congregate in the corridors, and Severus suspected that the atmosphere had something to do with it. He inhaled deeply once more, trying to figure out what the elves were cooking for lunch.
He was so distracted in discerning pasties from potted pies that he almost didn’t notice Rosier, who was standing in the corridor, leaning an arm up against the wall. In the limited amount of space between the wall and Rosier’s body was a petite girl--a petite girl, Severus noted with mild interest, who was not Florence.
The girl, a Hufflepuff with long, dirty-blonde hair, giggled at something Rosier said to her.
“What?” Severus overheard Rosier say in an amused voice. “You don’t believe me?”
“I don’t know,” the girl said lightly. “Can I trust you?”
“Can you trust me?!” exclaimed Rosier wryly. He leaned down and whispered something into the girl’s ear, lips grazing her earlobe.
She giggled and pushed him away. “Oh, Evan stop that, will you? It tickles.”
Rosier straightened up and lowered his arm so that it was parallel with the floor and brushing against the crook of her neck. “Only because you asked so nicely.”
Evan was certainly taking a risk by being so intimate in a public space. There were quite a few students who knew about Florence spending the night (and who knows how many other nights) in his bed not so long ago.
Severus didn’t particularly care about Rosier’s wanton behaviour, especially since it didn’t affect him at all, so he dismissed it without much speculation. If Rosier ended up with his knob shrivelled up by some mad, resentful girl, it wouldn’t be surprising. Walking by the flirtatious couple, he didn’t bother to offer any form of greeting. Neither the girl nor Rosier even noticed him as he passed, so it hardly mattered, anyway.
When he reached the Common Room, Rabastan was waiting for him. Avery and Wilkes were there as well.
“Are you ready?” Rabastan said gruffly. He had forgone his Hogwarts robes for a set that was dark navy in colour and made of thick material to keep out the autumn chill. Wilkes had also decided against wearing his school robes, dressed in charcoal grey. The way the students at Hogwarts dressed on weekends was very telling of their backgrounds. Muggle-borns and Half-bloods often opted for slacks and shirts, while the Slytherin Purebloods would never be caught dead wearing Muggle clothing. Then there were some, like Avery and Snape, who simply stayed in their school robes.
“Is Filch in the Entrance Hall already?” Severus asked.
Wilkes nodded. “Saw ‘im dragging his mangy bag for contraband up the corridor about five minutes ago.”
“Ah,” Snape replied with a nod.
“Let’s go now before we get held up in the queue,” Rabastan said.
The boys exited the Common Room together, soon joining the small throng of students gathered in the Entrance Hall. Filch was busy checking the students’ names off of a long piece of parchment. An old, tattered bag was at his feet. The students knew it well; it was where Filch would put all of their purchases from Zonko’s if they didn’t bother to conceal them properly. Unfortunately for Filch, that was one of the first things third-year students learned to do.
“Gah,” Rabastan groaned as he elbowed a few third years out of the way. “C’mon you idjits, move over.” In a matter of moments (along with a few sharp elbows to various ribs), he and the others were standing in front of Filch.
“Rabastan Lestrange,” he announced abruptly.
“All right, all right,” muttered Filch. His beady eyes narrowed as he searched for Lestrange’s name. “Go on, you. And don’t even think about bringing back any dungbombs. I have a pair of thumbscrews with your name on it.”
Lestrange turned around to give his friends a withering look before brushing past Filch.
Avery was next in the queue, and he stepped up to Filch, looking abrasive. “Merrick Avery.” Filch ignored Avery’s menacing stance and made another comment about smuggling in illegal contraband. Fulton was addressed in a similar manner. Of course, it was hardly a surprise, since Filch was about as cantankerous as old men come.
Severus was next. “Snape,” Filch repeated with a hiss. “Going off to join the raucous?” he asked snidely, ticking off Severus’s name with his quill. “See you don’t get yourself into trouble, Mr. Snape. I’d hate to see you on your hands and knees scrubbing the floors.” Filch lifted an eyebrow and gave a raspy laugh, showing his yellowed teeth.
Severus ignored Filch’s laughter and walked out behind Wilkes, lips thinned tightly.
“Old Filchy has a soft spot for you, eh?” asked Wilkes with a sly grin.
“He has a warm heart,” replied Severus derisively.
“If you have four legs and a set of whiskers,” Fulton said.
“He does love that old, manky cat, doesn’t he?” remarked Rabastan. He shoved his hands into his pockets and ambled along, staring out at the pathway ahead. “One time Rodolphus caught her and stuffed her into a pillowcase.” He gave an amused, sidelong glance to his companions. “He suspended her from the ceiling. Filch was seething-and he actually fetched a ladder to rescue her. S’pose he didn’t want to hurt her with magic.”
The boys chuckled appreciatively. Severus imagined Mrs. Norris yowling in fear and Filch collapsing from heart palpitations.
“Come to think of it, I’ve never seen him use magic,” mused Avery.
“I think I did once,” Fulton said slowly. “I can’t remember when it was, though.” He shrugged a shoulder. “But how else is he going to keep a castle clean? I mean, you couldn’t manage all of that without magic.”
Lestrange let out a short hiss of air between his teeth. “That’s what house-elves are for, isn’t it?” Kicking a stone across the cobbled path, he turned to Fulton. “I always figured he was related to some old benefactor who donated a lot of money to the school. Scholarship funds or something. Headmaster Dippet was so grateful he had to keep Filch around, and now Dumbledore’s stuck with him.”
“He doesn’t strike me as someone who hails from an old estate,” mused Snape.
“That’s likely because his relatives donated the estate. Or something.”
“I’ve yet to find the Filch wing,” muttered Severus, “and I know this school fairly well.”
“It probably smells like a litter box,” said Merrick. “It’s probably better that we haven’t found it.”
The Slytherins continued chatting until they reached a point where they could see smoke rising from the chimneys of the houses and buildings in Hogsmeade. Although Severus wasn’t particularly fond of crowded pubs and shops, he did like the fact that Hogsmeade was an entirely magical town. With the exception of the hustle and bustle, it was actually a comfortable, welcoming little village. Everyone embraced magic with no question.
“Rodolphus is supposed to meet us in an hour,” Rabastan said, narrowing his eyes at a few third years who rushed past them. “I’d like to go to Zonko's before then.” He stopped short and looked at the others. “Anyone else up for it?”
Merrick nodded his head. “I’ll go,” he said. “I’d like to buy something and sneak it directly under Filch’s ugly nose.”
Both Fulton and Severus declined the invitation. Rabastan folded his arms across his chest, waiting expectantly for a reason.
Fulton shrugged a shoulder. “I’ve got a parcel to pick up at Dervish and Banges,” he said.
Snape didn’t really have anything else to do; he simply did not want to be stuck in Zonko’s for an hour. “I’d rather take a walk,” he said simply. “Maybe something interesting is happening at the Shrieking Shack.”
Rabastan seemed to accept this. “All right, then. I’ll see you both at the Three Broomsticks in an hour.” He and Merrick shuffled off, and Fulton had already begun walking towards Dervish and Banges. A cool breeze ruffled the trees along the edge of town, sending a gust of spiralling, coloured leaves past Severus.
He started off towards the Shrieking Shack, shoving his hands deep into his pockets and huddling over for protection against the nipping breeze. His mind drifted from his mother to drinks with the Lestranges, and finally, when he passed a group of giggling girls, his thoughts settled on his meeting with Lily. Admittedly, tonight’s meeting had been on his mind for about a week or so.
It wasn’t just that he was anticipating the Veritaserum transfer, and he was, but it was also the fact that he found Lily interesting. He couldn’t put his finger on it, and wasn’t exactly thrilled about this new interest, either. He knew it wouldn’t do for him to be socializing with a Gryffindor like Evans, and perhaps more importantly, a Muggle-born like Evans. Still, she was like a breath of fresh air compared to most of the students with whom he socialized. She had a better sense of humour than Lestrange, possessed a nicer disposition than Rosier, and she was smarter than the both of them put together.
Above all, Lily seemed to understand where Severus motives came from, and although she didn’t agree with his decisions, she never questioned him, either. She simply accepted him for what he was-a hypocritical phoney-and refrained from pointing out faults or acting spitefully.
It was no wonder that she was a popular student, he mused. At least, she was popular in certain circles.
He ducked behind a large, red shrub and brushed through the leaves on the ground, following the trail along the Shrieking Shack’s fence line. There were a few other students there, leaning against the wooden rails and peering at the old house curiously. It was still and ominous looking; there was an urban legend that if you stared at the windows long enough you’d see the shadows of figures sweep by. Severus had never seen anything, but it didn’t stop him from scouring the windows, just in case.
“Having fun?”
Florence had approached so quietly that he hadn’t even heard her. He saw her settle against the rails next to him out of the corner of his eye, and he cleared his throat so he could answer.
“Not really.”
She snorted. “Me neither.”
Ahead of them, a brave Ravenclaw had ducked under the fence and was approaching the Shrieking Shack. His companions were hollering loudly, cheering him on. Severus shook his head.
“Snape?” Florence asked, turning to face him. He glanced over at her, giving her a blasé look. She was chewing on her bottom lip, obviously concerned about something.
“Yes,” he prodded, hoping that she would talk already. There was something about the look on her face that made him debate whether or not he should turn on his heel and flee immediately.
“Have you seen Evan anywhere?”
He should’ve fled, he decided. “Evan?” he repeated, drumming his fingertips against the splintered wooden rail. “I saw him earlier, near the Hufflepuff Commons.”
“Did you really?” Florence asked. “I’d heard that from someone else, too.”
“Then why,” Severus answered slowly, unappreciative of the nuisance, “did you ask me?”
Florence gave an unapologetic shrug. “Because I knew you wouldn’t lie to me.”
“Did you?”
She nodded. “Yes. You don’t waste effort lying about things you don’t care about.”
Exhaling through his nose in disgust, he did his best to look unimpressed. “You know me so well.”
“I don’t make a habit of studying you, Snape,” Florence replied, raking a hand through her curls. “It’s just that, though you don’t got out of your way to be social, you’ve not exactly withheld your personality, either.”
“And you can’t get a good read on Rosier, is that it?”
“Something like that,” she muttered quietly.
Severus decided to leave. He worried that if he stayed too long Florence would expect some sort of wisdom or knowledge from him, and he wasn’t about to get mixed up in romantic nonsense.
“Best of luck finding Rosier,” he said, turning to leave. “I’m expected somewhere else.” He started towards the edge of the village, dried leaves crunching underneath of his feet.
“Oh,” Florence called out from behind him, “bye.” He placed his hands into his pockets to warm them again, continuing along the trail. Seconds later, he heard the sound of crunching leaves echoing his own, only more rapidly. Florence was following him.
“Snape,” she said, catching up to him. She was nearly out of breath, waving a scrap piece of parchment in her hand. “You dropped this.”
He glanced at the parchment, raising his brows. Swiftly taking it from her extended hand, he stuffed it back into his pocket, mumbled a quick thank you, and began walking again. Florence walked with him, and though he wasn’t thrilled with her presence, he didn’t go out of his way to avoid her. Thankfully, she seemed to be done with her ridiculous inquisition, and simply accompanied him in silence.
* * *
The Three Broomsticks was extremely crowded; the tables were filled with students, villagers, and even a few professors, and the space between the seating area and bar was so packed that it hardly left any room for people to squeeze through. Severus did his best to slip by, and when he reached the private room in the back, Florence was no longer with him.
“Snape,” greeted Bellatrix coolly. She and Rodolphus were sitting at a table, drinking mead. Rodolphus nodded from where he was sitting. “Have a seat,” she continued, gesturing to the empty seats at the table. “Make yourself comfortable.” However, there was a certain tedium in her voice that suggested she didn’t really care if he was comfortable or not.
“Hello,” Snape replied, giving the room a sweeping glance. Avery, Wilkes, and Rabastan were sitting at one end of the table, butterbeers in hand. They waved at him when he walked in and then went back to their discussion, which involved something about apparition and missing body parts.
Narcissa was also seated at the table, flanked by Regulus and Rosier. There was an empty seat across from them, so Severus slid into it unobtrusively. Narcissa and Regulus would keep each other entertained, he figured, so he wouldn’t be expected to say much.
“Snape!” Regulus greeted Severus with a bright grin, lifting a steaming mug of butterbeer towards Snape before taking a sip. “You made it.”
“Were you thinking of avoiding us?” Narcissa asked. Her blue eyes rested on him, sparkling wryly.
“That’s not what I meant, Cissy,” Regulus amended hastily. “I didn’t mean to imply-“
“Forget it,” Severus interrupted, which ceased Regulus’s bumbling. He shook his head at Regulus before addressing Evan. “I had a little chat with Florence,” he said, lifting his eyebrows to imply significance.
Evan was unfazed. “Oh, yeah?” he asked, settling back in his chair. “Where is she?”
“Looking for you, I imagine.”
“Was she?”
“That was my assumption. She asked me if I’d seen you.”
Narcissa, who’d immediately perked up at Florence’s name, watched Rosier’s face with intrigue. “Weren’t you supposed to take her to Hogsmeade?”
Rosier’s brow crinkled. “No,” he replied. “I never said that.”
“Oh,” Narcissa mused thoughtfully. “She mentioned you were going together. That’s why Hope and I left without her.”
“Did she?” Rosier made a face. “Well, that was silly of her. We never even spoke of it.”
“Probably because you don’t do much speaking,” Severus muttered, and Regulus snickered into the mouth of his mug. Rosier gave Severus a dark look.
“Well you both are together, aren’t you?” prodded Narcissa.
“Yes,” Rosier sighed. He fixed a steely, fake smile on his face. “Of course we are.”
Regulus managed to catch Severus’s eye, and he nodded towards the door. Severus turned slightly so that he could see what Regulus was directing his attention towards. Florence was standing by the doorway, glaring at Rosier.
“Florence!” Narcissa simpered, rising out of her chair. “We were just talking about you!”
Both Regulus and Severus immediately looked over to Rosier. A shadow of disappointment flickered across his face, but it was soon replaced by a cheery grin.
“Flo!” he greeted, joining Narcissa by the doorway. “I didn’t realize you expected me to meet you…” He leaned down and kissed Florence on the cheek.
“Cheeky bastard.” Regulus bowed his head and coughed gently. “I saw him snogging a pretty girl from Hufflepuff about an hour ago, near Madame Puddifoot’s.”
“Did you?” said Snape. He snorted derisively. “I had suspicions about that myself.”
“Not exactly out of the ordinary, is it?” Regulus agreed. “I bet he’s got a load of girls on the side.” He watched Rosier, Narcissa, and Florence silently. Rosier was rubbing Florence’s shoulders and whispering something into her ear. She wasn’t looking very pleased, but she had seemed to relax under his touch. “My mother says that the Rosiers are masters of seduction.”
“Isn’t your aunt a Rosier?” Severus asked. He was fairly certain that the Black girls’ mother was from that family. He was privately amused that a family would be known for being seductive, and felt fortunate that his own bloodlines didn’t carry nonsense tales like that.
“Mmhm,” Regulus agreed. Madame Rosmerta came in and set another dozen mugs of butterbeer on the table, and he smiled at her before grabbing two and passing one over to Snape. “She’s easy on the eyes, isn’t she?” he asked Severus.
“Rosmerta?” Severus repeated. “I suppose so.”
Regulus watched Rosmerta as she excused herself, slipping between the trio. Suddenly, Narcissa and Florence burst into laughter. Rosier was smirking triumphantly, trailing his fingers down the length of Florence’s spine.
“Poor Florence,” Regulus sighed. “I like her.” His grey eyes surveyed her for a moment before darting to Severus. “I mean-not like that-but, well, she’s nice and all.”
“She’s tolerable,” Severus remarked, wondering if Regulus actually found Florence desirable.
“Right,” agreed Regulus, tearing his gaze away from the doorway.
More people were filtering into the room, greeting Bellatrix and Rodolphus, conversing about the latest events. Severus sat quietly with his butterbeer, overhearing bits and pieces of various conversations.
“…Two killed in Yorkshire the other day…”
“…But did you know one of them was supposedly an Unspeakable?”
“…A werewolf pack in Romania…”
After a while, Bellatrix and Rodolphus had settled themselves near the younger students. They discussed life after Hogwarts and their current endeavours, but most of the conversation was heavily laden with innuendos.
“I’m actually thankful mother has taken over most of the wedding plans,” Bellatrix said at one point. “I’ve been very busy with private lessons.”
Narcissa looked surprised. “I didn’t know you were taking lessons.”
Bellatrix smiled at her sister superiorly. “It’s an apprenticeship,” she said.
Rabastan looked at his brother. “Are you taking lessons too, then?”
Rodolphus gave Bellatrix a sidelong glance and frowned. “No.”
“Well, you’ve been busy, haven’t you?” Bellatrix said, turning to the others. “He travels so much.”
Severus recalled Rabastan mentioning that Rodolphus had secured a job in relations for some sort of importing business.
“Anyway,” she continued, “we wanted to see you all again. I know Fulton and Merrick are graduating this year.” Her heavy-lidded gaze settled on the two older boys. “Have you made plans yet?” she asked.
Merrick nodded. “Actually, I have connections at the Ministry of Magic. I’ve been offered a position there.”
“Really?” Bellatrix murmured. “That’s excellent.”
Rodolphus leaned forward, looking interested. “I occasionally touch base with Ministry officials,” he said. “Perhaps we’ll be seeing each other.”
Merrick smiled knowingly. “I’m sure we will.”
“I don’t know how much you’ll be seeing of me,” Wilkes piped up gruffly. “I’m looking into a security position for a private agency.”
“Will that take you far away?” queried Rodolphus. “Or is it local?”
Wilkes shook his head. “If I’m hired at the placement I’m interested in, I’ll be located in London.”
“Good,” said Bellatrix, looking pleased. “And if you’re having trouble finding a position, do let us know. We’ve made a few well-placed connections.”
Everyone at the table was aware of the connections of which she was speaking. Severus couldn’t help but wonder if, when the time came, he would be offered similar help. He wasn’t sure that he would take it, if it came to that. His mother’s warnings echoed in his mind, and he was having trouble dismissing them.
The group continued to chat for another hour or so, and slowly, people began to leave. Florence and Rosier walked out together, followed by Narcissa, Rabastan, Wilkes, and Avery.
Regulus and Severus were among the last to leave; Bellatrix had pulled Regulus aside to talk with him about Sirius.
“Have you spoken with him?” she asked.
“Hardly,” Regulus replied with a frown. “Not that we’ve had much to talk about.”
Bellatrix’s mouth tightened into a thin line. “If he’s too much of a fool to come to his senses, he’s going to find himself in a dangerous predicament.”
“If you think I’ll be of any use trying to persuade him one way or another, you’re mistaken,” said Regulus. “He won’t listen to me; he doesn’t even think I know my own arse from my elbow anymore.”
“He should respect you more than that,” Bellatrix replied.
Regulus laughed bitterly. “I’d only be wasting my energy.”
“I suppose I’ll have to contact him myself, then?” She seemed very displeased by the thought of it, fixing Regulus with a unhappy glare.
Regulus shook his head and sighed. “I’ll try it, but I doubt I’ll have much of an effect. He’s stubborn.”
Bellatrix frowned. “It will be better coming from you than me, cousin. He and I have never seen eye to eye, and I hardly think he will see validity in anything I might say, just to spite me. You, however, are his younger brother. Surely he has a soft spot for you in that thick head of his.”
Regulus looked unconvinced. “I’ll try,” he repeated, glancing at Severus. Severus did his best to seem inattentive; he didn’t want to become involved in any of Bellatrix’s plans, not trusting her. He thought Regulus would be better off doing the same, too.
“Fine,” Bellatrix said with an approving nod. “I’ll see you at Christmas, Regulus.” Her sharp gaze moved to Severus. “Snape,” she said.
“Bellatrix.” He acknowledged her with a slight tilt of the head before exiting the room. The Three Broomsticks had settled down by now, and the sky outside was growing pink as the sun began to set.
He and Regulus walked back to Hogwarts without much conversation. At one point they passed the blonde Hufflepuff girl with whom Rosier had been having a pash, and they exchanged looks.
“She’s not bad,” Regulus said under his breath as they walked out of earshot. “But Florence seems nicer.”
* * *
“I’ve got a confession.”
Severus looked up from the text he was reading. Lily was standing by the steaming cauldron of Veritaserum, brows knitted with worry.
“I’m not a priest, Evans.”
“Lily,” she corrected, rolling her eyes to the ceiling. “And, coincidentally enough, though you aren’t a priest, you often make me feel like I’m doing penance.”
“I’m sure you can count the number of sins you’ve committed on one hand, Saint Lily.”
“Oh, shut it,” she snapped. “Can’t I say one thing without you acting like a smart-arse?”
He lifted an eyebrow.
“Right,” she said. “Don’t answer that.” She moved away from the cauldron and rested her elbows on the table, leaning against it. “What I was about to say, before I was rudely interrupted, was that I think that you should do the transfer by yourself.”
He frowned. “Why?”
“Because this is going to be extremely difficult and tedious, and if I so much as make one mistake, I’m going to feel awful.” She shrugged apologetically. “And you will never, ever let me forget it. I don’t know if I can function properly under that sort of pressure.”
He paused, unsure of what to say. He knew very well that Lily would be perfectly capable of performing the transfer. She’d proved herself capable on many occasions, and she was, by far, the most competent partner he’d ever had. Then again, if she did happen to make a mistake, he wasn’t certain that he would be able to hold his tongue.
“That is the most absurd thing I’ve ever heard you say,” he finally announced. “Though I must admit that if you ruined everything, I would take pleasure in blaming you, just to see Slughorn’s face after hearing that you are a failure.” He smiled at the thought. “Remind me to bring a handkerchief.”
Lily wrinkled her nose. “Ha, ha.”
He snorted at her face and then looked at a timepiece on the table. “It’s nearly time, and you are going to go through with this like we planned. Are you ready?”
She hesitated before nodding. “I suppose so.” She grabbed his pair of dragon hide gloves and pushed them across the table. “Here.” The both put on their gloves and moved to the simmering cauldron. Lily had carefully placed the cauldrons side by side so that they would be able to make the transfer with less difficulty. Empty cauldrons were heavy enough, and with the added weight of the potion, the potential for disaster was multiplied exponentially.
“I’m a fair hand at Charms,” Lily told him, “but I don’t know that I can hold the cauldron steady for very long. You’ll have to tip it quickly.”
He nodded. “All right. On the count of three, then.” He paused, gathering his thoughts, and began to count. “One, Two…”
“Three,” murmured Lily, and with a flick of her wand, she was levitating the cauldron into the air. Her charm was actually quite good, and Severus momentarily marvelled at her ability to keep the potion from sloshing around.
It hovered nearer to the silver cauldron as she directed it with the tip of her wand. Severus glanced at the enclosing space between the two cauldrons and then over at Lily. She was biting her lip, but she gave him a slight nod. “Go on,” she mouthed.
He quickly moved to the cauldron, grabbed the handles, and pulled it over until the potion began to dribble into the silver cauldron. “Loosen up your spell a bit,” he ordered gruffly, as he was having a hard time getting the liquid to pour smoothly. Not only that, but even through the dragon hide, his fingers were growing warm from the heat of the metal.
“Okay,” Lily whispered. Severus felt the cauldron move with more ease under his hands, and the potion started to flow steadily into the silver cauldron.
“Good,” he said, muscles rigid with concentration. “It’s nearly half filled now.” As the potion hit the silver in the cauldron, the consistency thinned and it became slightly less opaque, just as the text stated it would.
“Does it look right?” Lily enquired.
“Yes,” he said, quickly. He hadn’t wanted to say anything, but his fingers were beginning to burn, and his eyes started to water from pain. In spite of himself, he swore loudly. Only a bit of the potion remained in the cauldron he was handling.
Lily immediately dropped her charm. “You’re burning, aren’t you?” she exclaimed, rushing forward. Before Severus could protest, she grabbed his hands and swiftly tipped the rest of the potion into the cauldron, emptying it before placing it roughly onto the table. Severus, blinking furiously, hardly resisted when Lily grabbed his hands and pulled off the gloves.
“You’re an idiot,” she scolded him. “Why didn’t you just say that your hands were scalding?”
“Because I didn’t want to alarm you,” he said through gritted teeth. “You might’ve lifted the charm too early.” He looked down at his hands; they were red and blistering.
Lily muttered an oath and dragged him over to the basin sink. Surprisingly, he didn’t protest or shrink away from her touch. She started to run cold water from the tap and forced his hands under the stream. Again, he let out a string of curse words, unable to control himself. There was a throbbing, angry pulse beating in his hands.
“Don’t move,” Lily said, leaving his side for a moment. When she returned, she thrust one of his gloves under his nose. “Look how worn these are, Severus! It’s no wonder you burned yourself! How old are they?”
Lamely trying to wiggle his fingers, Severus scowled. “They were my mothers.”
“Well, you need a new pair,” Lily said.
“Obviously.”
“You could’ve borrowed mine,” she added.
Overly irritable and pained, Severus did not appreciate Lily clucking over him like a mother hen. “Will you stop your insipid nagging?” he snapped.
Lily clamped her mouth shut. “Fine,” she said. “Give me your hands.”
Reluctantly, Severus held out his hands, palms facing upward. Lily took out her wand and waved it over the skin, murmuring a charm. The pain quelled, and he looked up at her, raising his eyebrows.
“Temporary fix,” she announced. “It’s only a numbing charm. You’ll have to go see Madame Pomfrey for some ointment so that your burns heal properly.” Her eyes glittered humorously. “And maybe something to heal your ego.”
He narrowed his eyes and refrained from wringing his hands, which were tingly. “You’re lucky I can’t hold a wand,” he said.
“I know,” she replied easily. “No cursing for you.” She laughed and shook her head. “The potion looks fine, by the way,” she said. “I suppose you could say tonight’s endeavour was a success.”
Snape grumbled under his breath, unappreciative of the fact that she was laughing at him.
“I’ll pack up your things,” she said, moving to the belongings spread out on the table. “I doubt you’ll want me to escort you to the Hospital Wing.”
She was right; he did not want her to escort him. And though his ego was slightly bruised, he was surprised that he wasn’t angry with Lily for chastising him. In fact, he was grateful that she was there and had the sense to act so quickly. Watching her guiltily, he cleared his throat. “Thank you,” he muttered softly, though it pained him to do so.
“It’s nothing,” she replied airily, scooping his belonging into his bag.
While her back was turned, Severus reached into his pockets and attempted to fish out the scrap of parchment in his pocket. His hands were so numb that he couldn’t move his fingers properly. In the end, he managed to pull the scrap out, but was unable to grasp it in his hands. He watched it float down to the floor with a defeated sigh.
“Will you come back for your things?” Lily asked, turning towards him. “Or do you want to take them with you?”
“Leave them be,” he said. She nodded and placed his bag on a rickety chair before slinging her own bag over her shoulder.
“Lily?” he added, glancing down at the parchment on the floor. “That’s for you.” He tried to point at the parchment, but his fingers were not obeying the commands from his brain. It was infuriating.
“It is?” She walked over to the scrap and picked it up, brushing her hair out of her face as she stood up. “Is this what I think it is?” she asked.
He nodded. “I was going to show you the wand movement, but…” he shrugged uselessly, and Lily laughed.
“It’s all right,” she said. “Next time.”
“Next time,” he agreed, turning to leave. He stopped in front of the door and closed his eyes, feeling the urge to pinch the bridge of the nose, which of course, he could not.
Lily brushed against him as she reached for the doorknob. “Here, let me,” she said. Her lips were curled into a pretty smile, and he found it difficult not to smile back. She opened the door and walked out into the hall. “Get well soon,” she added with a wink. “I’ll see you later.” With that, she made her way to the staircase.
Severus waited for her to distance herself some ways ahead of him before he headed in the same direction. Even though it was extremely late and he doubted they’d encounter any students--with the exception of a prefect on duty, perhaps-he appreciated that she didn’t expect him to walk with her.
As she ascended the staircase, various portraits attempted to converse with her. She greeted some of them courteously and ignored the ones that barked out rude and inappropriate comments. Most of the portraits took it upon themselves to admonish her (and Severus, when he passed by) for being up so late. Lily didn’t refrain from talking back to the portraits, which was amusing in itself.
When he reached the landing on the first floor, she turned and, after glancing around cautiously, gave him a small wave. “Night,” she whispered.
“Goodnight,” he replied, watching her quietly as she continued up the staircase.
As she stepped onto the second landing, he slipped through the doorway, not wanting her to know that he had paused to watch her. He was suddenly flooded with a number of emotions, none of which he could explain better than the last. He was embarrassed because he’d injured himself, yet pleased that the transfer went well. Then there was Lily…He found himself growing accustomed to her presence, and liked her tenacity. Above all, however, he was relieved that the ease of their partnership-he hesitated to call it anything else-remained a secret. He enjoyed Lily’s company well enough, but he did not want anyone else to find out about it.
It was a risk that neither of them needed.
Let me know what you think!
Hesitant Desire
Severus never did hear back from his mother, though he’d really been too busy to give it much thought. School was requiring more of his time than it ever had before.
He’d ended up doing very well on Kennicot’s assignment; she had been so impressed with his essay that she’d asked him to demonstrate his scenario for the class. He complied without argument, bringing a non-partisan student-Isaac Brewster, a Hufflepuff-up to the front of the class to help with the presentation. Severus didn’t want anyone suspecting that his success was somehow related to a Slytherin ploy, and he didn’t want a Gryffindor like Pettigrew or Black to lie and discredit him. He wasted no energy towards making his presentation overly dramatic; his presentation had been short and to the point. He simply performed his nonverbal spell, Muffliato, and spoke in low tones to Brewster while the rest of the class blinked at him in stupidity, unable to hear anything but a strange, buzzing, white noise.
It was quite a success, and even the Gryffindors had been impressed. Lupin, in particular, seemed interested in the mechanics of Severus’s spell. Naturally, Severus didn’t give away any information (learning from the last time one of his spells had been loosed upon the school), and basked in his short-lived superiority with smug silence. Lupin, whose essay had been equally praised by Kennicot, also demonstrated his work. He used the Disillusionment Charm--an admittedly difficult bit of wand work--as camouflage, and passed on the information enclosed in a piece of parchment that needed a special password before the message could be read.
It wasn’t the Disillusionment Charm that Severus found so impressing, but the little manipulative used on the parchment. Severus had encountered magic like that before, but Lupin’s performance made Severus feel a bit envious. The two students had a sort of unspoken rivalry between them-subtler than Severus’s rivalry with Potter or Black. This was mostly because Severus couldn’t stand that Lupin was such a pushover. Lupin’s humble nature was nauseating.
Even now, as Severus headed to Professor Sprout’s class to enquire about a recent test mark, he made the mental note to research spells on message concealment during his next visit to the library.
Professor Sprout’s office was located between the kitchens and the Hufflepuff Common Room. She’d recently given the N.E.W.T. students a test on the differences between Flitterbloom and Devil’s Snare, including a rather challenging practical. The students had to identify and label the parts of a dozen different plants. Severus, whose interest in plants was limited to their applicable uses in potion brewing, was worried he’d done poorly.
When Professor Sprout, a young, bubbly professor, mentioned that the students could stop by her office to confirm their marks, he decided to take her up on that offer.
He approached her door and rapped twice.
“Come in!” she called out.
He opened the door and stepped in softly. Professor Sprout was at her desk, listening to a broadcast on the Wizarding Wireless Network. It was the first time he’d seen her without a hat on, and the hair on top of her head was matted down, resembling a crater in her curly, brown hair. He stared at her for a moment before clearing his throat.
“Good morning, Professor Sprout.”
She smiled at him, and her round cheeks grew even rounder, if it were at all possible. “Oh, hello, Severus. How are you?”
“I’m fine, Professor,” he replied. “You mentioned that we could stop by for our test marks?”
“Yes, yes, of course,” she replied with a smile. “You’re the first one I’ve seen today.” She rifled through some papers on her desk, thumbing through them quickly and pulling one aside. She smoothed it out with her earth-stained hands. “Ah, here we are.”
He glanced down at the parchment, recognizing his small, cramped writing. At the top of the paper, in bright, bottle green was the letter “A”. “Acceptable,” he murmured.
“Yes,” Professor Sprout acknowledged, “which leaves quite a bit of room for improvement, if I may say so.” She pointed at one of the short essay questions, and Severus winced at the number of inky green comments written in the margins. “You might want to flesh something like this out a bit more next time. The areas where you can locate the plants are fine, but noting climate, dirt composition, and altitude is also useful for people planning to recreate the appropriate conditions for cultivation.”
He nodded dully. He had been hoping that he would have slid by with an E, but supposed he would have to spend more time studying for Herbology in the future. “Thank you, Professor.”
“On, it’s nothing, Mr. Snape. Are you off to Hogsmeade?”
He nodded.
“That’s nice,” Professor Sprout said with a smile. “It’s been a tick since I’ve been to the Three Broomsticks. I hope you have a nice time. Behave yourself.”
“I will, Professor.” He gave her a tight, forced smile before leaving, and once he’d exited her room he inhaled deeply and heaved a large sigh. Knowing he’d performed below his own expectations was disappointing.
Oddly enough, he found walking through the Hufflepuff corridor mildly comforting; the air was warm and smelled of spices and cooking meat. A lot of students liked to congregate in the corridors, and Severus suspected that the atmosphere had something to do with it. He inhaled deeply once more, trying to figure out what the elves were cooking for lunch.
He was so distracted in discerning pasties from potted pies that he almost didn’t notice Rosier, who was standing in the corridor, leaning an arm up against the wall. In the limited amount of space between the wall and Rosier’s body was a petite girl--a petite girl, Severus noted with mild interest, who was not Florence.
The girl, a Hufflepuff with long, dirty-blonde hair, giggled at something Rosier said to her.
“What?” Severus overheard Rosier say in an amused voice. “You don’t believe me?”
“I don’t know,” the girl said lightly. “Can I trust you?”
“Can you trust me?!” exclaimed Rosier wryly. He leaned down and whispered something into the girl’s ear, lips grazing her earlobe.
She giggled and pushed him away. “Oh, Evan stop that, will you? It tickles.”
Rosier straightened up and lowered his arm so that it was parallel with the floor and brushing against the crook of her neck. “Only because you asked so nicely.”
Evan was certainly taking a risk by being so intimate in a public space. There were quite a few students who knew about Florence spending the night (and who knows how many other nights) in his bed not so long ago.
Severus didn’t particularly care about Rosier’s wanton behaviour, especially since it didn’t affect him at all, so he dismissed it without much speculation. If Rosier ended up with his knob shrivelled up by some mad, resentful girl, it wouldn’t be surprising. Walking by the flirtatious couple, he didn’t bother to offer any form of greeting. Neither the girl nor Rosier even noticed him as he passed, so it hardly mattered, anyway.
When he reached the Common Room, Rabastan was waiting for him. Avery and Wilkes were there as well.
“Are you ready?” Rabastan said gruffly. He had forgone his Hogwarts robes for a set that was dark navy in colour and made of thick material to keep out the autumn chill. Wilkes had also decided against wearing his school robes, dressed in charcoal grey. The way the students at Hogwarts dressed on weekends was very telling of their backgrounds. Muggle-borns and Half-bloods often opted for slacks and shirts, while the Slytherin Purebloods would never be caught dead wearing Muggle clothing. Then there were some, like Avery and Snape, who simply stayed in their school robes.
“Is Filch in the Entrance Hall already?” Severus asked.
Wilkes nodded. “Saw ‘im dragging his mangy bag for contraband up the corridor about five minutes ago.”
“Ah,” Snape replied with a nod.
“Let’s go now before we get held up in the queue,” Rabastan said.
The boys exited the Common Room together, soon joining the small throng of students gathered in the Entrance Hall. Filch was busy checking the students’ names off of a long piece of parchment. An old, tattered bag was at his feet. The students knew it well; it was where Filch would put all of their purchases from Zonko’s if they didn’t bother to conceal them properly. Unfortunately for Filch, that was one of the first things third-year students learned to do.
“Gah,” Rabastan groaned as he elbowed a few third years out of the way. “C’mon you idjits, move over.” In a matter of moments (along with a few sharp elbows to various ribs), he and the others were standing in front of Filch.
“Rabastan Lestrange,” he announced abruptly.
“All right, all right,” muttered Filch. His beady eyes narrowed as he searched for Lestrange’s name. “Go on, you. And don’t even think about bringing back any dungbombs. I have a pair of thumbscrews with your name on it.”
Lestrange turned around to give his friends a withering look before brushing past Filch.
Avery was next in the queue, and he stepped up to Filch, looking abrasive. “Merrick Avery.” Filch ignored Avery’s menacing stance and made another comment about smuggling in illegal contraband. Fulton was addressed in a similar manner. Of course, it was hardly a surprise, since Filch was about as cantankerous as old men come.
Severus was next. “Snape,” Filch repeated with a hiss. “Going off to join the raucous?” he asked snidely, ticking off Severus’s name with his quill. “See you don’t get yourself into trouble, Mr. Snape. I’d hate to see you on your hands and knees scrubbing the floors.” Filch lifted an eyebrow and gave a raspy laugh, showing his yellowed teeth.
Severus ignored Filch’s laughter and walked out behind Wilkes, lips thinned tightly.
“Old Filchy has a soft spot for you, eh?” asked Wilkes with a sly grin.
“He has a warm heart,” replied Severus derisively.
“If you have four legs and a set of whiskers,” Fulton said.
“He does love that old, manky cat, doesn’t he?” remarked Rabastan. He shoved his hands into his pockets and ambled along, staring out at the pathway ahead. “One time Rodolphus caught her and stuffed her into a pillowcase.” He gave an amused, sidelong glance to his companions. “He suspended her from the ceiling. Filch was seething-and he actually fetched a ladder to rescue her. S’pose he didn’t want to hurt her with magic.”
The boys chuckled appreciatively. Severus imagined Mrs. Norris yowling in fear and Filch collapsing from heart palpitations.
“Come to think of it, I’ve never seen him use magic,” mused Avery.
“I think I did once,” Fulton said slowly. “I can’t remember when it was, though.” He shrugged a shoulder. “But how else is he going to keep a castle clean? I mean, you couldn’t manage all of that without magic.”
Lestrange let out a short hiss of air between his teeth. “That’s what house-elves are for, isn’t it?” Kicking a stone across the cobbled path, he turned to Fulton. “I always figured he was related to some old benefactor who donated a lot of money to the school. Scholarship funds or something. Headmaster Dippet was so grateful he had to keep Filch around, and now Dumbledore’s stuck with him.”
“He doesn’t strike me as someone who hails from an old estate,” mused Snape.
“That’s likely because his relatives donated the estate. Or something.”
“I’ve yet to find the Filch wing,” muttered Severus, “and I know this school fairly well.”
“It probably smells like a litter box,” said Merrick. “It’s probably better that we haven’t found it.”
The Slytherins continued chatting until they reached a point where they could see smoke rising from the chimneys of the houses and buildings in Hogsmeade. Although Severus wasn’t particularly fond of crowded pubs and shops, he did like the fact that Hogsmeade was an entirely magical town. With the exception of the hustle and bustle, it was actually a comfortable, welcoming little village. Everyone embraced magic with no question.
“Rodolphus is supposed to meet us in an hour,” Rabastan said, narrowing his eyes at a few third years who rushed past them. “I’d like to go to Zonko's before then.” He stopped short and looked at the others. “Anyone else up for it?”
Merrick nodded his head. “I’ll go,” he said. “I’d like to buy something and sneak it directly under Filch’s ugly nose.”
Both Fulton and Severus declined the invitation. Rabastan folded his arms across his chest, waiting expectantly for a reason.
Fulton shrugged a shoulder. “I’ve got a parcel to pick up at Dervish and Banges,” he said.
Snape didn’t really have anything else to do; he simply did not want to be stuck in Zonko’s for an hour. “I’d rather take a walk,” he said simply. “Maybe something interesting is happening at the Shrieking Shack.”
Rabastan seemed to accept this. “All right, then. I’ll see you both at the Three Broomsticks in an hour.” He and Merrick shuffled off, and Fulton had already begun walking towards Dervish and Banges. A cool breeze ruffled the trees along the edge of town, sending a gust of spiralling, coloured leaves past Severus.
He started off towards the Shrieking Shack, shoving his hands deep into his pockets and huddling over for protection against the nipping breeze. His mind drifted from his mother to drinks with the Lestranges, and finally, when he passed a group of giggling girls, his thoughts settled on his meeting with Lily. Admittedly, tonight’s meeting had been on his mind for about a week or so.
It wasn’t just that he was anticipating the Veritaserum transfer, and he was, but it was also the fact that he found Lily interesting. He couldn’t put his finger on it, and wasn’t exactly thrilled about this new interest, either. He knew it wouldn’t do for him to be socializing with a Gryffindor like Evans, and perhaps more importantly, a Muggle-born like Evans. Still, she was like a breath of fresh air compared to most of the students with whom he socialized. She had a better sense of humour than Lestrange, possessed a nicer disposition than Rosier, and she was smarter than the both of them put together.
Above all, Lily seemed to understand where Severus motives came from, and although she didn’t agree with his decisions, she never questioned him, either. She simply accepted him for what he was-a hypocritical phoney-and refrained from pointing out faults or acting spitefully.
It was no wonder that she was a popular student, he mused. At least, she was popular in certain circles.
He ducked behind a large, red shrub and brushed through the leaves on the ground, following the trail along the Shrieking Shack’s fence line. There were a few other students there, leaning against the wooden rails and peering at the old house curiously. It was still and ominous looking; there was an urban legend that if you stared at the windows long enough you’d see the shadows of figures sweep by. Severus had never seen anything, but it didn’t stop him from scouring the windows, just in case.
“Having fun?”
Florence had approached so quietly that he hadn’t even heard her. He saw her settle against the rails next to him out of the corner of his eye, and he cleared his throat so he could answer.
“Not really.”
She snorted. “Me neither.”
Ahead of them, a brave Ravenclaw had ducked under the fence and was approaching the Shrieking Shack. His companions were hollering loudly, cheering him on. Severus shook his head.
“Snape?” Florence asked, turning to face him. He glanced over at her, giving her a blasé look. She was chewing on her bottom lip, obviously concerned about something.
“Yes,” he prodded, hoping that she would talk already. There was something about the look on her face that made him debate whether or not he should turn on his heel and flee immediately.
“Have you seen Evan anywhere?”
He should’ve fled, he decided. “Evan?” he repeated, drumming his fingertips against the splintered wooden rail. “I saw him earlier, near the Hufflepuff Commons.”
“Did you really?” Florence asked. “I’d heard that from someone else, too.”
“Then why,” Severus answered slowly, unappreciative of the nuisance, “did you ask me?”
Florence gave an unapologetic shrug. “Because I knew you wouldn’t lie to me.”
“Did you?”
She nodded. “Yes. You don’t waste effort lying about things you don’t care about.”
Exhaling through his nose in disgust, he did his best to look unimpressed. “You know me so well.”
“I don’t make a habit of studying you, Snape,” Florence replied, raking a hand through her curls. “It’s just that, though you don’t got out of your way to be social, you’ve not exactly withheld your personality, either.”
“And you can’t get a good read on Rosier, is that it?”
“Something like that,” she muttered quietly.
Severus decided to leave. He worried that if he stayed too long Florence would expect some sort of wisdom or knowledge from him, and he wasn’t about to get mixed up in romantic nonsense.
“Best of luck finding Rosier,” he said, turning to leave. “I’m expected somewhere else.” He started towards the edge of the village, dried leaves crunching underneath of his feet.
“Oh,” Florence called out from behind him, “bye.” He placed his hands into his pockets to warm them again, continuing along the trail. Seconds later, he heard the sound of crunching leaves echoing his own, only more rapidly. Florence was following him.
“Snape,” she said, catching up to him. She was nearly out of breath, waving a scrap piece of parchment in her hand. “You dropped this.”
He glanced at the parchment, raising his brows. Swiftly taking it from her extended hand, he stuffed it back into his pocket, mumbled a quick thank you, and began walking again. Florence walked with him, and though he wasn’t thrilled with her presence, he didn’t go out of his way to avoid her. Thankfully, she seemed to be done with her ridiculous inquisition, and simply accompanied him in silence.
* * *
The Three Broomsticks was extremely crowded; the tables were filled with students, villagers, and even a few professors, and the space between the seating area and bar was so packed that it hardly left any room for people to squeeze through. Severus did his best to slip by, and when he reached the private room in the back, Florence was no longer with him.
“Snape,” greeted Bellatrix coolly. She and Rodolphus were sitting at a table, drinking mead. Rodolphus nodded from where he was sitting. “Have a seat,” she continued, gesturing to the empty seats at the table. “Make yourself comfortable.” However, there was a certain tedium in her voice that suggested she didn’t really care if he was comfortable or not.
“Hello,” Snape replied, giving the room a sweeping glance. Avery, Wilkes, and Rabastan were sitting at one end of the table, butterbeers in hand. They waved at him when he walked in and then went back to their discussion, which involved something about apparition and missing body parts.
Narcissa was also seated at the table, flanked by Regulus and Rosier. There was an empty seat across from them, so Severus slid into it unobtrusively. Narcissa and Regulus would keep each other entertained, he figured, so he wouldn’t be expected to say much.
“Snape!” Regulus greeted Severus with a bright grin, lifting a steaming mug of butterbeer towards Snape before taking a sip. “You made it.”
“Were you thinking of avoiding us?” Narcissa asked. Her blue eyes rested on him, sparkling wryly.
“That’s not what I meant, Cissy,” Regulus amended hastily. “I didn’t mean to imply-“
“Forget it,” Severus interrupted, which ceased Regulus’s bumbling. He shook his head at Regulus before addressing Evan. “I had a little chat with Florence,” he said, lifting his eyebrows to imply significance.
Evan was unfazed. “Oh, yeah?” he asked, settling back in his chair. “Where is she?”
“Looking for you, I imagine.”
“Was she?”
“That was my assumption. She asked me if I’d seen you.”
Narcissa, who’d immediately perked up at Florence’s name, watched Rosier’s face with intrigue. “Weren’t you supposed to take her to Hogsmeade?”
Rosier’s brow crinkled. “No,” he replied. “I never said that.”
“Oh,” Narcissa mused thoughtfully. “She mentioned you were going together. That’s why Hope and I left without her.”
“Did she?” Rosier made a face. “Well, that was silly of her. We never even spoke of it.”
“Probably because you don’t do much speaking,” Severus muttered, and Regulus snickered into the mouth of his mug. Rosier gave Severus a dark look.
“Well you both are together, aren’t you?” prodded Narcissa.
“Yes,” Rosier sighed. He fixed a steely, fake smile on his face. “Of course we are.”
Regulus managed to catch Severus’s eye, and he nodded towards the door. Severus turned slightly so that he could see what Regulus was directing his attention towards. Florence was standing by the doorway, glaring at Rosier.
“Florence!” Narcissa simpered, rising out of her chair. “We were just talking about you!”
Both Regulus and Severus immediately looked over to Rosier. A shadow of disappointment flickered across his face, but it was soon replaced by a cheery grin.
“Flo!” he greeted, joining Narcissa by the doorway. “I didn’t realize you expected me to meet you…” He leaned down and kissed Florence on the cheek.
“Cheeky bastard.” Regulus bowed his head and coughed gently. “I saw him snogging a pretty girl from Hufflepuff about an hour ago, near Madame Puddifoot’s.”
“Did you?” said Snape. He snorted derisively. “I had suspicions about that myself.”
“Not exactly out of the ordinary, is it?” Regulus agreed. “I bet he’s got a load of girls on the side.” He watched Rosier, Narcissa, and Florence silently. Rosier was rubbing Florence’s shoulders and whispering something into her ear. She wasn’t looking very pleased, but she had seemed to relax under his touch. “My mother says that the Rosiers are masters of seduction.”
“Isn’t your aunt a Rosier?” Severus asked. He was fairly certain that the Black girls’ mother was from that family. He was privately amused that a family would be known for being seductive, and felt fortunate that his own bloodlines didn’t carry nonsense tales like that.
“Mmhm,” Regulus agreed. Madame Rosmerta came in and set another dozen mugs of butterbeer on the table, and he smiled at her before grabbing two and passing one over to Snape. “She’s easy on the eyes, isn’t she?” he asked Severus.
“Rosmerta?” Severus repeated. “I suppose so.”
Regulus watched Rosmerta as she excused herself, slipping between the trio. Suddenly, Narcissa and Florence burst into laughter. Rosier was smirking triumphantly, trailing his fingers down the length of Florence’s spine.
“Poor Florence,” Regulus sighed. “I like her.” His grey eyes surveyed her for a moment before darting to Severus. “I mean-not like that-but, well, she’s nice and all.”
“She’s tolerable,” Severus remarked, wondering if Regulus actually found Florence desirable.
“Right,” agreed Regulus, tearing his gaze away from the doorway.
More people were filtering into the room, greeting Bellatrix and Rodolphus, conversing about the latest events. Severus sat quietly with his butterbeer, overhearing bits and pieces of various conversations.
“…Two killed in Yorkshire the other day…”
“…But did you know one of them was supposedly an Unspeakable?”
“…A werewolf pack in Romania…”
After a while, Bellatrix and Rodolphus had settled themselves near the younger students. They discussed life after Hogwarts and their current endeavours, but most of the conversation was heavily laden with innuendos.
“I’m actually thankful mother has taken over most of the wedding plans,” Bellatrix said at one point. “I’ve been very busy with private lessons.”
Narcissa looked surprised. “I didn’t know you were taking lessons.”
Bellatrix smiled at her sister superiorly. “It’s an apprenticeship,” she said.
Rabastan looked at his brother. “Are you taking lessons too, then?”
Rodolphus gave Bellatrix a sidelong glance and frowned. “No.”
“Well, you’ve been busy, haven’t you?” Bellatrix said, turning to the others. “He travels so much.”
Severus recalled Rabastan mentioning that Rodolphus had secured a job in relations for some sort of importing business.
“Anyway,” she continued, “we wanted to see you all again. I know Fulton and Merrick are graduating this year.” Her heavy-lidded gaze settled on the two older boys. “Have you made plans yet?” she asked.
Merrick nodded. “Actually, I have connections at the Ministry of Magic. I’ve been offered a position there.”
“Really?” Bellatrix murmured. “That’s excellent.”
Rodolphus leaned forward, looking interested. “I occasionally touch base with Ministry officials,” he said. “Perhaps we’ll be seeing each other.”
Merrick smiled knowingly. “I’m sure we will.”
“I don’t know how much you’ll be seeing of me,” Wilkes piped up gruffly. “I’m looking into a security position for a private agency.”
“Will that take you far away?” queried Rodolphus. “Or is it local?”
Wilkes shook his head. “If I’m hired at the placement I’m interested in, I’ll be located in London.”
“Good,” said Bellatrix, looking pleased. “And if you’re having trouble finding a position, do let us know. We’ve made a few well-placed connections.”
Everyone at the table was aware of the connections of which she was speaking. Severus couldn’t help but wonder if, when the time came, he would be offered similar help. He wasn’t sure that he would take it, if it came to that. His mother’s warnings echoed in his mind, and he was having trouble dismissing them.
The group continued to chat for another hour or so, and slowly, people began to leave. Florence and Rosier walked out together, followed by Narcissa, Rabastan, Wilkes, and Avery.
Regulus and Severus were among the last to leave; Bellatrix had pulled Regulus aside to talk with him about Sirius.
“Have you spoken with him?” she asked.
“Hardly,” Regulus replied with a frown. “Not that we’ve had much to talk about.”
Bellatrix’s mouth tightened into a thin line. “If he’s too much of a fool to come to his senses, he’s going to find himself in a dangerous predicament.”
“If you think I’ll be of any use trying to persuade him one way or another, you’re mistaken,” said Regulus. “He won’t listen to me; he doesn’t even think I know my own arse from my elbow anymore.”
“He should respect you more than that,” Bellatrix replied.
Regulus laughed bitterly. “I’d only be wasting my energy.”
“I suppose I’ll have to contact him myself, then?” She seemed very displeased by the thought of it, fixing Regulus with a unhappy glare.
Regulus shook his head and sighed. “I’ll try it, but I doubt I’ll have much of an effect. He’s stubborn.”
Bellatrix frowned. “It will be better coming from you than me, cousin. He and I have never seen eye to eye, and I hardly think he will see validity in anything I might say, just to spite me. You, however, are his younger brother. Surely he has a soft spot for you in that thick head of his.”
Regulus looked unconvinced. “I’ll try,” he repeated, glancing at Severus. Severus did his best to seem inattentive; he didn’t want to become involved in any of Bellatrix’s plans, not trusting her. He thought Regulus would be better off doing the same, too.
“Fine,” Bellatrix said with an approving nod. “I’ll see you at Christmas, Regulus.” Her sharp gaze moved to Severus. “Snape,” she said.
“Bellatrix.” He acknowledged her with a slight tilt of the head before exiting the room. The Three Broomsticks had settled down by now, and the sky outside was growing pink as the sun began to set.
He and Regulus walked back to Hogwarts without much conversation. At one point they passed the blonde Hufflepuff girl with whom Rosier had been having a pash, and they exchanged looks.
“She’s not bad,” Regulus said under his breath as they walked out of earshot. “But Florence seems nicer.”
* * *
“I’ve got a confession.”
Severus looked up from the text he was reading. Lily was standing by the steaming cauldron of Veritaserum, brows knitted with worry.
“I’m not a priest, Evans.”
“Lily,” she corrected, rolling her eyes to the ceiling. “And, coincidentally enough, though you aren’t a priest, you often make me feel like I’m doing penance.”
“I’m sure you can count the number of sins you’ve committed on one hand, Saint Lily.”
“Oh, shut it,” she snapped. “Can’t I say one thing without you acting like a smart-arse?”
He lifted an eyebrow.
“Right,” she said. “Don’t answer that.” She moved away from the cauldron and rested her elbows on the table, leaning against it. “What I was about to say, before I was rudely interrupted, was that I think that you should do the transfer by yourself.”
He frowned. “Why?”
“Because this is going to be extremely difficult and tedious, and if I so much as make one mistake, I’m going to feel awful.” She shrugged apologetically. “And you will never, ever let me forget it. I don’t know if I can function properly under that sort of pressure.”
He paused, unsure of what to say. He knew very well that Lily would be perfectly capable of performing the transfer. She’d proved herself capable on many occasions, and she was, by far, the most competent partner he’d ever had. Then again, if she did happen to make a mistake, he wasn’t certain that he would be able to hold his tongue.
“That is the most absurd thing I’ve ever heard you say,” he finally announced. “Though I must admit that if you ruined everything, I would take pleasure in blaming you, just to see Slughorn’s face after hearing that you are a failure.” He smiled at the thought. “Remind me to bring a handkerchief.”
Lily wrinkled her nose. “Ha, ha.”
He snorted at her face and then looked at a timepiece on the table. “It’s nearly time, and you are going to go through with this like we planned. Are you ready?”
She hesitated before nodding. “I suppose so.” She grabbed his pair of dragon hide gloves and pushed them across the table. “Here.” The both put on their gloves and moved to the simmering cauldron. Lily had carefully placed the cauldrons side by side so that they would be able to make the transfer with less difficulty. Empty cauldrons were heavy enough, and with the added weight of the potion, the potential for disaster was multiplied exponentially.
“I’m a fair hand at Charms,” Lily told him, “but I don’t know that I can hold the cauldron steady for very long. You’ll have to tip it quickly.”
He nodded. “All right. On the count of three, then.” He paused, gathering his thoughts, and began to count. “One, Two…”
“Three,” murmured Lily, and with a flick of her wand, she was levitating the cauldron into the air. Her charm was actually quite good, and Severus momentarily marvelled at her ability to keep the potion from sloshing around.
It hovered nearer to the silver cauldron as she directed it with the tip of her wand. Severus glanced at the enclosing space between the two cauldrons and then over at Lily. She was biting her lip, but she gave him a slight nod. “Go on,” she mouthed.
He quickly moved to the cauldron, grabbed the handles, and pulled it over until the potion began to dribble into the silver cauldron. “Loosen up your spell a bit,” he ordered gruffly, as he was having a hard time getting the liquid to pour smoothly. Not only that, but even through the dragon hide, his fingers were growing warm from the heat of the metal.
“Okay,” Lily whispered. Severus felt the cauldron move with more ease under his hands, and the potion started to flow steadily into the silver cauldron.
“Good,” he said, muscles rigid with concentration. “It’s nearly half filled now.” As the potion hit the silver in the cauldron, the consistency thinned and it became slightly less opaque, just as the text stated it would.
“Does it look right?” Lily enquired.
“Yes,” he said, quickly. He hadn’t wanted to say anything, but his fingers were beginning to burn, and his eyes started to water from pain. In spite of himself, he swore loudly. Only a bit of the potion remained in the cauldron he was handling.
Lily immediately dropped her charm. “You’re burning, aren’t you?” she exclaimed, rushing forward. Before Severus could protest, she grabbed his hands and swiftly tipped the rest of the potion into the cauldron, emptying it before placing it roughly onto the table. Severus, blinking furiously, hardly resisted when Lily grabbed his hands and pulled off the gloves.
“You’re an idiot,” she scolded him. “Why didn’t you just say that your hands were scalding?”
“Because I didn’t want to alarm you,” he said through gritted teeth. “You might’ve lifted the charm too early.” He looked down at his hands; they were red and blistering.
Lily muttered an oath and dragged him over to the basin sink. Surprisingly, he didn’t protest or shrink away from her touch. She started to run cold water from the tap and forced his hands under the stream. Again, he let out a string of curse words, unable to control himself. There was a throbbing, angry pulse beating in his hands.
“Don’t move,” Lily said, leaving his side for a moment. When she returned, she thrust one of his gloves under his nose. “Look how worn these are, Severus! It’s no wonder you burned yourself! How old are they?”
Lamely trying to wiggle his fingers, Severus scowled. “They were my mothers.”
“Well, you need a new pair,” Lily said.
“Obviously.”
“You could’ve borrowed mine,” she added.
Overly irritable and pained, Severus did not appreciate Lily clucking over him like a mother hen. “Will you stop your insipid nagging?” he snapped.
Lily clamped her mouth shut. “Fine,” she said. “Give me your hands.”
Reluctantly, Severus held out his hands, palms facing upward. Lily took out her wand and waved it over the skin, murmuring a charm. The pain quelled, and he looked up at her, raising his eyebrows.
“Temporary fix,” she announced. “It’s only a numbing charm. You’ll have to go see Madame Pomfrey for some ointment so that your burns heal properly.” Her eyes glittered humorously. “And maybe something to heal your ego.”
He narrowed his eyes and refrained from wringing his hands, which were tingly. “You’re lucky I can’t hold a wand,” he said.
“I know,” she replied easily. “No cursing for you.” She laughed and shook her head. “The potion looks fine, by the way,” she said. “I suppose you could say tonight’s endeavour was a success.”
Snape grumbled under his breath, unappreciative of the fact that she was laughing at him.
“I’ll pack up your things,” she said, moving to the belongings spread out on the table. “I doubt you’ll want me to escort you to the Hospital Wing.”
She was right; he did not want her to escort him. And though his ego was slightly bruised, he was surprised that he wasn’t angry with Lily for chastising him. In fact, he was grateful that she was there and had the sense to act so quickly. Watching her guiltily, he cleared his throat. “Thank you,” he muttered softly, though it pained him to do so.
“It’s nothing,” she replied airily, scooping his belonging into his bag.
While her back was turned, Severus reached into his pockets and attempted to fish out the scrap of parchment in his pocket. His hands were so numb that he couldn’t move his fingers properly. In the end, he managed to pull the scrap out, but was unable to grasp it in his hands. He watched it float down to the floor with a defeated sigh.
“Will you come back for your things?” Lily asked, turning towards him. “Or do you want to take them with you?”
“Leave them be,” he said. She nodded and placed his bag on a rickety chair before slinging her own bag over her shoulder.
“Lily?” he added, glancing down at the parchment on the floor. “That’s for you.” He tried to point at the parchment, but his fingers were not obeying the commands from his brain. It was infuriating.
“It is?” She walked over to the scrap and picked it up, brushing her hair out of her face as she stood up. “Is this what I think it is?” she asked.
He nodded. “I was going to show you the wand movement, but…” he shrugged uselessly, and Lily laughed.
“It’s all right,” she said. “Next time.”
“Next time,” he agreed, turning to leave. He stopped in front of the door and closed his eyes, feeling the urge to pinch the bridge of the nose, which of course, he could not.
Lily brushed against him as she reached for the doorknob. “Here, let me,” she said. Her lips were curled into a pretty smile, and he found it difficult not to smile back. She opened the door and walked out into the hall. “Get well soon,” she added with a wink. “I’ll see you later.” With that, she made her way to the staircase.
Severus waited for her to distance herself some ways ahead of him before he headed in the same direction. Even though it was extremely late and he doubted they’d encounter any students--with the exception of a prefect on duty, perhaps-he appreciated that she didn’t expect him to walk with her.
As she ascended the staircase, various portraits attempted to converse with her. She greeted some of them courteously and ignored the ones that barked out rude and inappropriate comments. Most of the portraits took it upon themselves to admonish her (and Severus, when he passed by) for being up so late. Lily didn’t refrain from talking back to the portraits, which was amusing in itself.
When he reached the landing on the first floor, she turned and, after glancing around cautiously, gave him a small wave. “Night,” she whispered.
“Goodnight,” he replied, watching her quietly as she continued up the staircase.
As she stepped onto the second landing, he slipped through the doorway, not wanting her to know that he had paused to watch her. He was suddenly flooded with a number of emotions, none of which he could explain better than the last. He was embarrassed because he’d injured himself, yet pleased that the transfer went well. Then there was Lily…He found himself growing accustomed to her presence, and liked her tenacity. Above all, however, he was relieved that the ease of their partnership-he hesitated to call it anything else-remained a secret. He enjoyed Lily’s company well enough, but he did not want anyone else to find out about it.
It was a risk that neither of them needed.