Smutmas fic, revealed
Title: Open Your Mind
Author: Flora
Recipient's name: azhure1
Rating: NC17
Pairing(s): Snape/Charlie
Disclaimer: Potterverse isn't mine. Alas.
Author's notes: Written for merry_smutmas 2005. Thanks to Marks and Anj for pruning my commas, among other things.
...had to split it into two posts, as it's a bit under 15,000 words.
Open Your Mind
Charlie stared down at his hands as he watched the sudsy water swirl down the drain. He'd left his gloves behind this morning, and of course today had been a day when he'd had cause to grab leads and pull the monsters about a great deal. Despite layer upon layer of calluses, he'd blistered, and the bitch of that was, it was hard to do much healing magic when one couldn’t hold one's own wand properly.
Well. Much as he'd intended to ignore the problem, washing the dishes had felt odd with the stinging in his palms, and he wasn't about to go scrubbing the stew pot now. He ran water into it and sprinkled in flakes of dried soap as it filled, then went to see if he could find his salve. Living alone had a whole lot of advantages, but this was one of those times he rather wished he shared quarters.
Except not, as more than likely the other person would want to do things like chat, and Charlie wasn't, on the whole, terribly interested in doing any such thing. Still, having someone else readily available to help with his hands would have been nice, so he could make his standing date with The Saturday Dragon Report waiting next to his most comfortable chair by the fire that was actually necessary this evening.
He was elbows-deep in his old trunk upstairs when the rap at the door came.
He'd been rather expecting it any time, really, ever since he'd returned from Britain--Minerva's terse note, following up on the one delivered at the wedding she'd hated to miss, had been clear as to the who, if not the what--so he shouted from the bedroom to come in, and finished digging through the flasks and bottles until he'd found the one he wanted. The effect of this one was relatively quick, and he was rubbing his hands together and enjoying the warm tingle of the salve working under his skin.
It wasn't Harry. "Oi," he said, lifting a brow. "Now why would a Malfoy have come to me?"
The boy turned slowly, and Charlie saw the remaining scars from where, to hear Ron tell it, he'd had his head all but cut in half. His nose was marred, just slightly, and a pale long line sliced across one cheek. Charlie thought that he had other scars, not like this one, because he held himself stiffly, awkwardly, and because his eyes, silver and quick, were …unsettled. Still, the scars were nothing like Bill's, and Charlie controlled his response to a mere flare of nostrils--this was the boy who had let in that monster.
"I'm to tell you a message," the Malfoy said, breaking Charlie's train of thought. "I've come here with Snape, who says he needs the cover the preserve offers but knows he'll trip the charms."
Charlie let one brow quirk and maintained eye contact as he pushed his hand down slowly to get to his wand. "Why would I let him in? And also, why did you not trip the charms?" He pulled his hand free suddenly, uttering an altered petrification hex that left the boy in charge of his words and his eyes but otherwise froze him utterly, then catching him as he inevitably fell forward.
He glanced at the door and closed it with a word, re-locking it and checking that the anti-Apparation spells preventing entrance without permission were unchanged. Everything seemed fine, so he turned back to the boy, rolling him over onto his back. "Well?"
Malfoy rolled his eyes. "No wand, no ill intent."
"And he would trip them because…?"
"He doesn't intend harm, but he says he can't risk coming in unarmed, given, well. You know given what?"
"So he risks you?"
"Something like that."
"A Malfoy, used as a sacrifice? That can't sit well." Charlie's tone was conversational, but was intended to rile the boy, to stir any sparks of uncontrolled anger because even unarmed, he might have the potential to wreak havoc through unvoiced magic, and he'd rather bring that on in his own time. In his experience, Malfoys weren't entirely brilliant at self-control in this arena.
"It doesn't, but it's …necessary. He's done a great deal for me."
"Oh?"
"It's a long story, and he should tell it. He says he will be happy to meet you at your dragons, whatever that means, but that he'll have to have his wand."
"He needs me, knows what I think, and has terms. Lovely. How about if, instead, I simply keep you here?"
"I …there's nothing I can do about that."
Charlie cocked his head, and waited.
"He says your dragons will know. About him. He thought you might, but might not trust that. About the Legilimency, I mean."
Charlie blinked, then slowly nodded. He was a rather mediocre Legilimens himself, not especially strong and barely taught, and that much only because his particular talent with dragons and other creatures made having the rudiments under control useful; one could use every advantage one could get, when dealing with two-ton reptiles who breathed flame. Still, it was why Minerva was sending him Harry, because Snape was the only other Legilimens she knew, and there were, of course, reasons why he couldn’t teach him. And it was true, he wouldn’t trust his own mind against Snape's. Well. His mind, he would, but his ability to read him? Not at all. Snape was probably ten times stronger, and would be able to fool him.
But the dragons. Now that was something else entirely. They knew things that weren't perceptible to humans, things about motivation and trust, and things about drive. If he was there, and had communicated his doubts to one of the older females in particular, it would certainly let him know whether Snape was to be trusted. He made his decision. "Listen carefully. I'm letting you up, and you're to go out, directly to him. No, I won't follow. Tell him--" Charlie reached for a paperweight on the side table and transfigured it into a clock. "Tell him fifteen minutes according to this clock, on the hour, in the third enclosure south of the fence. If he's early, I'll assume ill intent. If he's late, I'm not waiting. Is that clear?" He released the boy, keeping his wand trained on him.
Malfoy nodded and looked at the clock. "On the hour, third south of the fence. Yes." He started for the door, then stopped. "He is one; I'm not."
"I beg your pardon?"
"Just. You should know, if you want to go poking about in my head, not that I like the idea, but you'd see …my point of view."
"Good to know," Charlie said dryly. "However, I'm not entirely sure I want to be mucking about in the head of a priggish Death Eater hopeful. Twelve minutes. And if I wind up assuming ill intent, you'll want to pass along that he's unlikely to do well if all of them take it into their heads to roast him for me."
The Malfoy shuddered and left, and by the time he was halfway up the path, Charlie had pulled up solid blocking charms all around the house, tied to himself and unlikely to be broken without his knowledge, and was sprinting south to the third enclosure. He'd chosen this enclosure for a reason. A rare twosome lived here, and he hoped to use that to his advantage, but it would take a minute to get organized.
Pairs of females were unusual. Pairs who were not of the same breed ---same sexed or not--were downright special. This duo was more so, because they'd been together for as long as Charlie had been here, and were utterly devoted, one to the other, and communicated better than any he'd ever seen. They could be bred, of course, and had been, though as they aged, he didn't especially expect to do so again. However, because one was a Horntail and the other an Opaleye, his experience was that when one was seen, the other was ignored. No one expected them to be working together. He intended to use that today, too. Just in case; he didn't think Snape would come here knowing what the dragons could do unless he was either mad or a whole lot more arrogant than Charlie had ever thought, but it was possible, and advantages were good to have.
He opened up his mind in the usual way and gave them an idea what he needed, then grinned as they huffed and snorted at each other, clearly talking things over. Danica was apparently elected chief emissary--or assassin, depending on how they felt, he supposed--and Gis wandered off to hang out near some of the great boulders in the enclosure, looking for all the world as though she had nothing to do with what was about to happen.
Charlie hopped up on top of the stone fence and waited, confident Danica would warn him if there was trouble.
Just as the hour struck, Snape came out of the edge of the woods nearest him. Danica roared, but the man didn't flinch, which Charlie took as at least cautiously positive. "Snape."
"Weasley." His tone was more hesitant than his posture, which was interesting, but again, neither dragon was especially alarmed.
"What do you want?"
"Safe haven."
"Why would I?" Charlie felt his eyes narrowing, but that was fair, and he'd never been much for social chitchat.
"Because your dragons aren't crisping me."
Charlie looked up at Danica, whose whirling eyes said she was still working, and looked back at Snape. "Because you're working on her, telling her not to. Not playing fair, Snape." He glanced toward Gis.
Who didn't look angry at all. He nearly laughed at Danica. A dragon, playing Bad Auror. "If I offer safe haven, what do you expect to happen?"
"Voldemort doesn't really… He hasn't realized what kinds of charms are up around the colonies, and has no reason to think I would run to someone like a Weasley--"
Charlie was a bit bothered by the way Snape had stopped mid-sentence; that didn't seem like the Snape he knew. However, a glance at Danica showed that she was watchful, alert, and evidently not worried. Huh. "I don't know that I want him to realize such a thing. Also, good idea, there. Insult your would-be host."
"Sod off. It's true; he knows I've never been friends with your father--or, Merlin help me, your mother, and given my association with Lucius--"
"Sod off, yourself. I already had to tolerate the boy in my damn house, and I don't need mention of his relatives. And you're dodging the question." He looked up pointedly at Danica, whose head had come down low. She was glaring. "What do you expect to happen?"
"Nothing. If all goes well. Possibly… Possibly something, but I don’t imagine anything focused would come near you. And if it did, I'd leave, as soon as you said the word."
"Likely too late. And why do you need harbor? And more to the point, why do you need it with me?"
Snape shrugged, a languid gesture that belied its own casual air because clearly, this wasn't a casual request. "He's aware neither of us are as loyal to him as he would like. The only other likely place I could go, there are an angry werewolf, a boy who thinks long after he acts, and your mother. And possibly an Auror or two with a bone to pick. And Draco can't go there anyway. He is in my care."
Charlie kept looking at him levelly. "I'll think it over."
"I don't have--"
"Time. I know. I'll think it over, and you may stay here with Danica and Gis while I do. I don't invite people into my space lightly, and I won't have you bothering the other handlers. Both of you, actually. The boy needs to stay here, as well. Here in the enclosure, I mean, while I consider."
Snape opened his mouth to object further, but closed it again immediately, regrouping then asking,. "Draco?"
"Ah. Yes, that's his name. He needs to come talk to them, too. Just in case."
Snape nodded and turned to the forest from which he'd emerged, beckoning. Charlie was entirely unsurprised to see Draco come forward, slowly, clearly nervous about the beasties. He glanced over at Gis, who had clearly been attending to this one, too, and then looked back. "They won't harm you, Malfoy, if you're honest. If you're not, they'll crisp that pretty skin black before you can say boo, so I'd not try to fool them."
He turned to go. "I'll let you know, when I decide. Don't try to leave."
"You're leaving us here?" Draco was whining, and sounded a bit panicky, but before Charlie could respond, Snape was speaking to him, low and quiet. Charlie glanced at the dragons, who were placid, and didn't bother trying to overhear. It was a father soothing a child, more or less, and nothing more sinister. Nothing to worry about.
"Yep!" Charlie gave a cheerful wave as he walked off. There was nothing to think about, but he thought he might as well let them sweat a bit, and Gis would have let him know if Snape had tried to get a look into his thought process even if he himself hadn't felt it, so it didn't matter that the man had the option; he wasn't using it. He hurried back up to the house; he was expecting a guest, and though the charms hadn't twanged at him, which meant Harry hadn't arrived, there was no cause to be dawdling.
He went up and pulled down the blocks--not all of them; his home, like the rest of this colony, was always to some degree protected--and set about putting away the dishes that had dried while he was out and cleaning up the stew pot that had been soaking. Then, he went out to the sitting room and plunked down in the chair to re-apply his salve and then read his journal. There was a particular article--a wide-ranging study of nesting sites and viability of newly hatched dragon pups--which had been calling to him all day, and he was bloody well going to sit here and read it while he'd a chance, and especially enjoy that he was making the Malfoy brat wait. He was surprised to learn that there was a significantly higher rate of survival of pups born in west-facing sites, in the mountains, and spent several moments wondering how he was going to persuade Lola, come spring, that her persistent east-face choice might not be the best one. She regularly lost half her pups, so it seemed the four and a half percent difference was worth a shot.
That new rap at the door, the one he'd been waiting for, came nearly an hour later, just as he'd got a good start on the SDR crossword. He wasn't sorry to put it down; he'd managed a pathetic single word he was certain of, and the puns weren't making sense in his head tonight. He tossed the report and his pencil onto the end table, and went to the door. "Ah. Harry. I've been mostly-expecting you."
"Mostly? Really?"
"Ayup. Minerva said something cryptic--I think she can't help herself; the woman is either blunt or frustratingly opaque--and I surmised you would be needing help with Occlumency, possibly something I can give. I could be wrong."
"Something like. Sorry, I don't think I knew you were an Occlumens?"
"Probably not. I'm certainly not the same caliber or type you've been working with, but then, perhaps a different approach, especially if you have a knack for it, is just the thing. Mine's more …Saurian, I suppose."
"You. What? You're a …Lizard Occlumens?"
Charlie laughed. "Dragon, actually. Many of us who do this for a living have a peculiar bent for that sort of thing; it helps to be a sort of Reptile Legilimens to get the bloody mules to go where you want them, and the other rather goes with, or they tend to make you too damn jumpy. It's the same, I think, or just about, but a different, I don't know, philosophy."
Harry thought about this. "Um. All right, then. So that's different, and I suppose it's easier than trying to learn from Snape. Also, the reptile bit might be, I don't know, something of a help, I suppose, given the whole business with the basilisk and Voldemort's horrid snake and all. And, I mean, you won't. Well, you might knock me on my arse, but it won't be because you're a horrid nasty awful murdering--"
"Oi, let me mention something here?"
Harry blinked. "What?"
"Snape's here. And--no, stop that. He wouldn’t be, if the ladies down in the pen didn't trust him. They'd know, Harry, if he were motivated as you believe. They'd be able to tell, and they'd have torched him where he stood. He's not what you think."
"And how do I know to believe you?"
"You know, Harry. If I were working for Voldemort, I'd an excellent opportunity three years ago during a rather chaotic scene at the World Cup, wouldn’t you say? But, the other thing about the difference is, whatever you've learned so far is …related to, but not the same as, what I'll show you, and you'd be able to tell, if you looked, if I were lying. I'm nowhere near as strong as Snape."
Harry considered this for a long while. "So, essentially, I shall just have to believe you, because if I don't, I can try to check, but I'll need to--"
"Actually, no," Charlie interrupted again. "Minerva sent you. She rather has some other instincts to work with, too."
"What? Oh. The. She can tell things as a cat?"
Charlie nodded. "Feel free to go ask her. Though actually, you can't tell her Snape's here. He just got here, and he's a reasonable need for silence on that."
Harry shook his head. "I think I'm developing a headache. And I saw Snape murdering--"
"Harry. I know. I know what you saw, from a relatively reliable report. And I can't tell you what happened, there, but I can tell you something must have been underlying, something you couldn’t know. I'm a straightforward bloke, with little use for social blather, so I'm willing to help you, but not willing to talk about it all night. It is what it is. Right?"
Harry nodded slowly. "He's not here, in the house, is he?"
"Nah. Down with the girls. Him and a friend. So. Say what you want to say."
"I just. I don't think I can learn anything while he's present."
"Fair enough. We'll let him freeze a bit longer, then, while I see where you are?"
"You want to--"
"Unless you can reckon a good way to describe for me what you know and can do?"
Harry twisted up his face. "Er. Well, he would just-- it would feel-- Bugger."
"Thought so. Hold on." Charlie dragged his wand out of his back pocket and pointed it. "Legilimens." He pushed his way into Harry's head, mouthing something rather like a Seeking charm to hone in on the memories he needed to see, then spent several moments looking through, rummaging back and forth before backing off. "Yeah, his methods didn't work well for you, did they? Can't say I don't see why; direct is all well and good, but there's a place for explaining, I suppose. And for showing. All right. Here. I need to make you unable to mention his presence, all right?"
"Like a Fidelius charm?"
"Ah. Related, vaguely. Same branch of magic, though it's restricting a piece of information inside you without restricting it in anyone else, so in that way, it isn't quite the same. Also, it will let you, if it's a matter of you or him. Just won't let you forget and mention him casually, you know? If I may?"
Harry shook his head. "I suppose. It's weird, though."
"Yeah. I know. Anyway." He muttered something that might have been retentoscuro, and watched Harry flinch as the odd lock clicked into place inside his head. "Good. Now. Here's your homework--I assume you wish not to stay here day after day? It seemed not, based on what I saw."
"Uh, no. I have things to find. Things to do."
"Exactly so. Right, then. Watch." He pushed his way into Harry's head again, and spoke. "It's easiest to think of it as a visual, for me. I don't know how to explain it any other way, so I'll hope it works well enough for you, too--though when I was first training, one of my colleagues swore it made more sense as a shift of harmonic. Now. Look right here. And see this, and distort, like this. Try it, then undo it."
He withdrew and watched as Harry's eyes unfocused then came back. "Oh! That's. But it."
"That's an internal exercise. Do it several times, four or five times a day. Come back when it's easy. When you can do it without thinking."
"But what's it--"
Charlie held up a finger and re-asserted himself inside Harry's thoughts. "Do it now?"
Harry paused, and then shakily, slowly, did as directed. Badly, and awkwardly, but in a manner that merely indicated a lack of practice, not anything worse. Charlie backed off again. "As I say. When it's easy. You've got the general idea. That's the first step."
"But Snape never--"
"I know. Different discipline, and different teacher. One of those things. Also, I could be wrong. I've never taught this before--never had an intern who didn't either already know how, as far as it goes for most of us, or lack the knack entirely. Go on, then. See if you can let me know when you plan to come back, but I'll see you when I see you, right? Ah, if it's still not easy in a week, come back anyway."
Harry nodded and went to the door. "What is that step, exactly?"
"It's the internal part that matches the external spell, sort of. It'll make more sense when you get the rest going, all right? Trust me on that."
Harry turned the handle and stepped through the door. "All right. I'll work on it, and be back next week, latest."
Charlie nodded and went back to his puzzle. It was easier, with less on his mind.
By the time he went back out to the enclosure, some four hours later, Draco was well and truly terrified--apparently Danica was enjoying herself puffing smoke at him and looking menacing--and Snape had clearly become exasperated with the boy's whinging and had moved to the far corner of the enclosure. "I'm surprised Gis let you come this far," Charlie said as he approached.
"They became upset. I ignored them, and once I stopped here, they settled."
"Fair enough. You can stay. I have conditions."
"I expected you would."
"First, I have an intermittent student who has no wish to see you. You'll become easy to avoid, when he's here."
Snape lifted a brow, but nodded.
"Second, if the girls decide you're hiding anything--not just these girls, but the others, too--there are no second chances. You don't have the right to keep secrets here."
Snape shuddered, but nodded again. "Except for those things I am bound to hide," he added.
"They wouldn't get worked up about those things," Charlie said. "Third, at least for the time being, the boy is your hostage. He stays even when you have reason to leave the colony."
"I won't--"
"Just in case. And you'll tell me ahead of time if you have reason to leave."
"All right. What else?"
"You teach me your brand of Legilimency. And Occlumency. In the presence of the girls." He nodded at Gis, who was all but snickering at Draco by now.
"I imagine that can be done," Snape allowed slowly. "Is that all?"
"For the moment. I'll tell you if the terms change."
"It would seem we have a deal. I don't suppose it includes bed and board?"
"We'll see what we can work out," Charlie said. "If nothing else, I have the infirmary. It's less than ideal for temperature and whatnot, but I imagine we can make it livable. It's not especially drafty or anything." He called out to Draco. "Oi! Malfoy. Come on, then. The two of you will be making yourselves at home in my barn."
He watched the boy blanch--which shouldn’t have been possible, given how pale he'd been to start--then swallow and nod acquiescence, walking a careful line between the dragon he clearly feared and the fence; he was trying to not look frightened, and failing rather spectacularly. "Gis, let him up," Charlie said quietly. She snorted puffs of smoke and moved off to the side, giving him freer walking space, which he didn't seem to much appreciate; he scowled and continued pretending he was utterly unalarmed as he walked toward Charlie and Snape.
Charlie turned and led the way up to the second building. It was the smaller of the two, long and narrow and, like every building and structure here, built entirely of stone. The other, larger, building was generally used to house newly-hatched dragons until their wings toughened up enough for weather, and for occasions when a handler and dragon were working on something where enclosure would be more practical. This one was generally used for both human and reptile medical care, with a long cabinet along each end and a dividing barrier bisecting the space. "Here," Charlie said, pointing to the "human" end. There were three beds and a rather rustic-looking cart that floated between them as needed, to act as a table for a surgeon or nurse. An ancient and rather quaint claw-footed bath stood open in one corner, the folding screen that might shield it leaning against the wall, with a sink and counter nearby and a toilet tucked right in with just a sliding curtain. "This should be adequate, I trust?"
Snape nodded curtly and glared at Draco, who appeared about to comment (negatively, Charlie suspected), then set down a traveling bag at the foot of the bed closest to the door. "I shall sleep here. Draco?"
Draco curled his lip and pointed at the far bed, not bothering to voice his opinion at all.
Charlie levitated and moved the third bed across to set along the opposite wall, just in case it should be needed, and set up a simple metal folding table and pair of chairs to fill the space where it had been. "There. Bed, table, chairs, and toilet. You can come up and share kitchen space. Please knock, as I will assume an intruder is an intruder."
And with that, he turned and left them there to work out their own shower and bedtime schedule. He had other things to do. Like have his own hot bath and pull on worn flannel pyjamas and a dressing gown, and have some nice tea. And see about finishing that puzzle.
That last proved impossible, and when he found his mind wandering to his guests for the fifth time, he gave up and went to bed.
By the time Harry came back, Charlie had learned several new things about Severus Snape.
For one, that man was surprisingly fastidious about certain issues of hygiene. Who would have guessed it? But he'd been up to the house before dawn the first morning asking whether there was a less-drying soap than that which was stocked in the infirmary, and if not, whether Charlie might have ingredients out of which to make some. Charlie had blinked, but looked in his lavatory and found a fresh bar of soap and a tube of some sort of soothing bath …stuff that his mother had sent two Christmases ago. He'd handed them over, and Snape had examined both, then declared the combination 'tolerable' and spun about to go.
Before Charlie had barred the door, he'd knocked again, asking after tooth-cleaning powder, and also shampoo.
Charlie had shaken his head and located both, then been surprised again half an hour later when both Snape and Draco, hair wet and both smelling of whatever "ocean breeze" was supposed to be (as it didn't smell like dead fish, he wasn't sure what that meant; it was slightly astringent and vaguely sweet, which wasn't so much his experience with the beach), had arrived seeking to use the kitchen. Snape had thoroughly scrubbed every surface before setting a complaining Draco to work chopping tomatoes and garlic while he rummaged in the icebox for eggs and sharp cheese.
Charlie had been too startled by the rather unexpected whirl of activity--he'd expected Snape to be an unadorned porridge and black coffee sort of fellow--to be offended by the unnecessary cleaning, and then too pleased to be served a lovely omelet (as well to make three as two, Snape had said) to object to the overtaking of his kitchen.
And it really was a lovely omelet. But then there had been the repeated scouring of the kitchen (an event later repeated before and after each meal, which led Charlie to believe this was, in fact, habit, and not a statement about his own hygiene) and a stop in Charlie's bath, and they were gone.
Which was fine. They were pleasant enough guests--well, Snape was; Draco was a whinging brat--but he had plans for harness-repair and that required the table and plenty of space without being bumped into and distracted. Dragon harnesses needed to be both functional and sturdy, in a way horse harnesses, well. They needed those things, but it took a lot more energy on the part of a horse to break one than it took a dragon. Dragons had a lot of kinetic power to burn, after all. So to speak. He'd got out the long broad straps and set to work with glue and grommet, and the occasional poke with his wand, and before he knew it, they'd been back for supper, and then they'd stayed for an hour or so, Charlie and Snape discussing topics of general interest to them both and the boy sulking in the sitting room, and the pattern had been set for the rest of the week: Charlie ate lunch alone, but had guests for both breakfast and supper, followed by easy conversation or companionship, though Draco often rolled his eyes and went back to the barn long before Snape.
It was, as he'd rather expected, the full week before Harry had returned. He'd warned Snape and the boy to stay out of the house for the evening, sending them with a great pot of stew to simmer over their fire in the barn and allowing Snape to borrow a half dozen back issues of periodicals that held articles on draconian medical applications. Draco hadn't found much in his shelves to enjoy, but he did still have a stack of old Muggle adventure stories, and those had been deemed juvenile, but at least something to do. Charlie had sighed, but let Snape add those to his pile of evening reading.
It was half six when Harry knocked, and Charlie was, once again, buried in his puzzle, feet up on the ottoman with one of Mum's ubiquitous quilts around his shoulders. He picked up his wand and stood, not bothering to set anything down, and went to the door, holding the quilt at his chest with one hand and the pencil and puzzle with the other. "Ai, Harry." He didn't waste any time on chitchat, simply pushing forward into Harry's mind with a word. "Show me?"
Harry blinked, then stepped inside and set down his satchel before doing as directed, almost confident as he performed the task Charlie had shown him the week before.
"Good. Almost there, on that, and I imagine it's a matter of practice. Next, the other side, Look, here." Charlie turned his own mind until it was as though his field of vision folded back on himself, which was bizarre but was how he'd been taught, so in principle, it ought to work for showing Harry. "So, you should be able, while you're turned like that, to see the analogous part of my mind, but not a great deal else. So, look for the same thing in my head that you've found in yours, and perform the opposite distortion. I know. I can't show you as directly. Well, try it, and if you can't reckon it out, I'll turn things around and try to show you in yourself, though that's awkward for its own reasons."
He stopped and waited, going along for the ride as Harry successfully found and not-so-successfully twisted.
"Ow! Not quite. All right, so that was sort of a turning anti-clockwise, and what you want is more of a folding over and pushing inside? It's not something I can do to myself, but, all right, here." He blinked and withdrew his mind from Harry's and walked over to set down the puzzle on the table and toss the quilt over the back of a chair, then sketched out with his hands the fold-and-push maneuver. "So, the reason you want to know how to do this, because I realize you have no particular intent to perform this skill, is because if you understand how to do it, you should understand how to not allow it to be done to you, see? And then, it's more a matter of strength. You got Ron and your Muggleborn friend helping you with that? I mean, have you tried that?"
"Er. Tried what? With which?"
"With the strength. Actually, I don't know that they can, but I should tell you I know it can be done in terms of dealing with dragons. That is, if I need to be able to force one of the beasties to let me direct him, I can get a couple of others with this skill to help me."
Harry blinked. "I. Oh. Well, Voldemort's got that snake, of course. It might be relevant. You'll have to teach me. Or them, but probably me, so I can show them, whichever's faster."
Charlie nodded. "All right, so try it again, now."
He waited, to feel Harry finding the place, and applying the pressure, and then, all at once, the odd sense of inversion that meant he'd got it. It had been sloppy, and if Charlie had been trying to hold him out, it would have taken little effort, but it was essentially right. Charlie nodded again, and said, "All right, and undo it."
Harry frowned. "Why?"
"Well. I'd rather you didn't leave me like this, and also, if you get out of my head entirely without undoing it, it hurts."
"Oh. Uh." Harry paused for a long moment. "So, a pull and unfold, then? On the left, kind of?"
"Something like. I can undo it myself, course, and I'll help you go the right way."
"Oh. Good. I was worried I'd not know how and leave it all--"
"No worries. Snape's still here. He could fix it, much as I'd rather not go ask him to."
Harry said nothing, merely frowning and trying to do as Charlie had directed. "All right. There?"
"Yep."
"Right. Okay, here goes." His brow furrowed in concentration and he attempted the maneuver.
"Not bad," Charlie said after a moment. "Not great, but not awful, and for a first try, pretty fair. All right, in and out again, and then we’ll stop and have a drink because I'm thirsty."
Harry bit his lip and set about doing it all over again, sweat dotting his nose, letting his glasses slide down. Charlie waited, deliberately not interfering, and let him do it, then nodded and went into the kitchen. "Milk?"
"Um. All right."
"I might have some biscuits," Charlie added. "The Malfoy brat seems to be unable to survive tea without them." He opened a cupboard and got out a tin, opening it and then bringing it to the table with the milk and a couple of tall glasses.
"Draco's here, too?"
"Oh. Did I not mention? I thought I said Snape had a friend with him."
"You did. I just thought you meant… I don't now who. Not like the greasy git has many friends."
"Eh. Not so greasy, these days. Dunno why, but every morning when he comes up, he's all scrubbed. Not greasy."
"You have him in here?"
"Breakfast. Supper. Chess, a couple of times. Mostly, he reads, and I read, and both of us tell the boy to shut it."
Harry smirked. "I bet that's going just brilliantly."
"Eh, he gets snippy, I can always threaten to have Gis mind him again. He didn't much like her. The boy, I mean. Snape doesn't seem to have much of a problem with her. She's one of the Antipodeans."
Harry laughed. "Are they staying long?"
"Long as they need a hiding place, I imagine. Or until they do something that causes the dragons to object to their presence."
"Don’t you object?"
"Well. Not much for houseguests--there's a reason I don't keep beds made up, after all--but on the whole, they've not been too bad. And Marek and Katrina don't object, either--though I think Katrina had designs on him at first. Snape, I mean. I was a bit surprised he didn't hex her to Antarctica, but he just told her she wasn't his type, and she apparently believed him."
Harry shook his head. "I still can't believe you're--"
"Do it again, now."
Harry sighed and fumbled through another journey into Charlie's mind and back out. "Good enough?"
"Good enough. Work on that until it's easy. Tell that snot of a youngest brother of mine to let you practice on him; not like he has secrets you don't know, right?"
"God, as long as I don't have to see anything he and Hermione do when, uh. Ew."
Charlie chuckled. "Tell him to think about slugs before you start or something. Though don't say, and don't think about your girlfriend, as that will rather not work. Anyway. Do that, come back in a couple of weeks? And we'll work on you not letting me in, and me keeping you out. Right?"
Harry got up and went to the door. "Right. I should let you know when I'm coming?"
"Sure. Give me a day's notice if you can, so I can keep the rabble out. And two weeks at most, right? You should have it well in hand by then."
Harry nodded, and opened the door. "Charlie? Thanks. I know this is kind of a pain."
Charlie shrugged. "Maybe after you off the bad guy, you'll have a career in managing beasties."
"Of course." Harry paused. "Actually, there might be something to be said for that." He went out into the night and up the path, and Charlie closed the door and put away the biscuit tin, then went back to his warm chair before the fire and tried to work out which word he was supposed to be anagramming to fit into the little boxes.
Charlie hadn't much thought about the impending holiday season, when he'd told Harry to come back, but Harry had sent notice he'd be delayed until Tuesday, and by the time that day arrived, a package from his mother had come, along with the usual note not to open until the appropriate day. From the feel of it, it was the standard pair of jumpers, apparently made of a rather bulkier grade of wool than usual, but as he stood with it in his hand, it occurred to him it was probably impossibly rude to have nothing in the way of holiday cheer for his guests. Well, the younger one, at least. Snape seemed as untouched by the notion as he was, but he expected going without would be rather a shock for the Malfoy and a look at the calendar informed him today was 23 December, so he locked up the house and went into town to see what was what.
What was what, apparently, was that there was a free event in the pub, which seemed to involved cabbage, and a wide assortment of knitted products in the market. Charlie sighed. As he'd only learned what Romanian he'd absorbed from occasional encounters with locals (which usually didn't involve a whole lot of talking beyond what was needed to ascertain whose bed they might employ) and what he'd got from the one-week course he'd been required to take upon his assignment here (from which he knew how to ask for a red pencil, as well as what the polite way to ask directions to the toilet was; neither of these had proven useful), he couldn't exactly ask after Christmas trappings, and nothing was obvious.
He sighed and went back past the colony to the international Apparation Station, and headed for London.
He hated Apparating, had done ever since he'd first failed the examination, and came out the London end shaking his head and cursing quietly, but, if nothing else, at least here there were mince pies and clockwise-stirred Christmas puddings, so that was something. He found himself purchasing a few decorations--tinsel and shining globes, and a candle …thing which looked Christmassy and seemed like it would go all right on his mantel--and thought well, perhaps it was high time he owned at least one object of Christmas ornamentation; it would be more cheerful. Then he got hold of both a pie and a pudding, and went back. A man could only stand the crowds for so long, and it wasn't as if he wanted to get gifts for his guests, anyway.
When he arrived, Snape and the boy were standing on his step looking put out, and he realized it was tea time already, and they'd begun to make a habit of coming up. Well. He wasn't in the habit of reporting to anyone, as long as he didn't intend to be away during his watch, and it hadn't occurred to him to do so now, either. Besides. It wasn't as though he owed them.
He let them in and took his purchases into the kitchen. "I thought perhaps mince pie today."
Snape lifted a brow, but said nothing.
The boy frowned and muttered something Charlie couldn’t hear, and went back into the sitting room to slouch on the sofa.
Charlie shrugged and set the water to heating, then cut himself a piece of the pie. He'd deal with the decorations later, without an audience. He was somewhat surprised when Snape got his own plate and served himself a rather liberal serving as well, but there was really no need to comment, so he simply sat at the table and ate his pie and sipped at his tea.
"Did you find this locally?" Snape asked, at length.
"No. I went into town, but there was mostly cabbage. And some sort of meat-stuffed …stuff. I went home for pie. And pudding. Got pudding, too."
"Hm. Well. It's tolerably good, but mine's better."
"What, you bake, too?"
"Relatively well, actually."
"Huh. All that, and he's a good cook."
He hadn't meant to say that, not quite, but a loud snort came from the direction of the living room. Charlie wasn't sure how to interpret it, but it covered Severus's bright blush at his inexplicable flirtation, and they both fell back into silence. It was companionable enough, just sitting there, eating and thinking, that Charlie failed to consider the time, finishing his pie and going back into the living room to at least put up his few decorations, mostly ignoring Draco and asking Snape to help him hang the garland, surprised when he agreed.
Finally, as the clock struck seven, he blinked. "Oh. Potter, this evening."
Snape stood at once and beckoned to the boy. "Come, then, Draco. We should get out of Mr Weasley's way."
Draco sank lower on the couch and spoke out of one lifted corner of his mouth. "Don't see why I should have to freeze my bollocks off just because the sainted Harry Potter is coming to call."
Snape frowned and made to reach for Draco's ear to haul him bodily off to the barns, but Charlie shrugged. "Fine. Stay. I actually could use a third party on whom to demonstrate."
Draco yelped and jumped up, his hand flying to the scar across his nose. "Demonstrate what?"
Charlie glanced at Snape, who had stopped sharply midway through tidying up the table of his own mess, and looked as startled as he was. "Not that, for heaven's sake. Legilimency."
Draco blinked, looking from Charlie to Snape and back again. "But. Why the hell are you--"
"Because," Snape interrupted before Charlie could, "I found him unable to learn."
Charlie waved a hand. "Nah. He's doing all right, but I come at it from a different discipline. Any case, he should be here any moment, now."
"Actually learning, is he? Unexpected."
"I think he rather doesn't want you present for it, or I'd have you stay to see. And it's merely a matter of a different approach. No reflection on you or him, I don't think."
Snape glowered, but nodded and moved toward the door. "Come along, Draco." They went out the back Draco whinging all the way, just as Harry arrived at the front. Charlie waited a moment before answering, just in case. It wasn't that he wouldn't actually need someone--and Snape would be good for the task at some point--up here eventually, but there was more to show before that was needed, and he was fine with coddling Harry for a bit, merely because it was easier to get the basics whilst comfortable than not.
"Hullo, Harry," he said when he finally opened the door. "I was having tea, and mince pie. Care for any? Also, Mum find you lot with the jumpers? Or are you not still traveling?"
Harry grinned. "She found us. I imagine she ought to work for some department or another in the Ministry, because we'd literally only just got settled into the place out in the marshes out west--south of Liverpool, you know--when there comes not an owl, because that would be too obvious or some such, but a bleeding purple heron with our parcels. Clearly, much more blended in, that--but obviously she was all over knowing where we were. Sometimes I think she's a bit scary, with that."
Continue
Author: Flora
Recipient's name: azhure1
Rating: NC17
Pairing(s): Snape/Charlie
Disclaimer: Potterverse isn't mine. Alas.
Author's notes: Written for merry_smutmas 2005. Thanks to Marks and Anj for pruning my commas, among other things.
...had to split it into two posts, as it's a bit under 15,000 words.
Open Your Mind
Charlie stared down at his hands as he watched the sudsy water swirl down the drain. He'd left his gloves behind this morning, and of course today had been a day when he'd had cause to grab leads and pull the monsters about a great deal. Despite layer upon layer of calluses, he'd blistered, and the bitch of that was, it was hard to do much healing magic when one couldn’t hold one's own wand properly.
Well. Much as he'd intended to ignore the problem, washing the dishes had felt odd with the stinging in his palms, and he wasn't about to go scrubbing the stew pot now. He ran water into it and sprinkled in flakes of dried soap as it filled, then went to see if he could find his salve. Living alone had a whole lot of advantages, but this was one of those times he rather wished he shared quarters.
Except not, as more than likely the other person would want to do things like chat, and Charlie wasn't, on the whole, terribly interested in doing any such thing. Still, having someone else readily available to help with his hands would have been nice, so he could make his standing date with The Saturday Dragon Report waiting next to his most comfortable chair by the fire that was actually necessary this evening.
He was elbows-deep in his old trunk upstairs when the rap at the door came.
He'd been rather expecting it any time, really, ever since he'd returned from Britain--Minerva's terse note, following up on the one delivered at the wedding she'd hated to miss, had been clear as to the who, if not the what--so he shouted from the bedroom to come in, and finished digging through the flasks and bottles until he'd found the one he wanted. The effect of this one was relatively quick, and he was rubbing his hands together and enjoying the warm tingle of the salve working under his skin.
It wasn't Harry. "Oi," he said, lifting a brow. "Now why would a Malfoy have come to me?"
The boy turned slowly, and Charlie saw the remaining scars from where, to hear Ron tell it, he'd had his head all but cut in half. His nose was marred, just slightly, and a pale long line sliced across one cheek. Charlie thought that he had other scars, not like this one, because he held himself stiffly, awkwardly, and because his eyes, silver and quick, were …unsettled. Still, the scars were nothing like Bill's, and Charlie controlled his response to a mere flare of nostrils--this was the boy who had let in that monster.
"I'm to tell you a message," the Malfoy said, breaking Charlie's train of thought. "I've come here with Snape, who says he needs the cover the preserve offers but knows he'll trip the charms."
Charlie let one brow quirk and maintained eye contact as he pushed his hand down slowly to get to his wand. "Why would I let him in? And also, why did you not trip the charms?" He pulled his hand free suddenly, uttering an altered petrification hex that left the boy in charge of his words and his eyes but otherwise froze him utterly, then catching him as he inevitably fell forward.
He glanced at the door and closed it with a word, re-locking it and checking that the anti-Apparation spells preventing entrance without permission were unchanged. Everything seemed fine, so he turned back to the boy, rolling him over onto his back. "Well?"
Malfoy rolled his eyes. "No wand, no ill intent."
"And he would trip them because…?"
"He doesn't intend harm, but he says he can't risk coming in unarmed, given, well. You know given what?"
"So he risks you?"
"Something like that."
"A Malfoy, used as a sacrifice? That can't sit well." Charlie's tone was conversational, but was intended to rile the boy, to stir any sparks of uncontrolled anger because even unarmed, he might have the potential to wreak havoc through unvoiced magic, and he'd rather bring that on in his own time. In his experience, Malfoys weren't entirely brilliant at self-control in this arena.
"It doesn't, but it's …necessary. He's done a great deal for me."
"Oh?"
"It's a long story, and he should tell it. He says he will be happy to meet you at your dragons, whatever that means, but that he'll have to have his wand."
"He needs me, knows what I think, and has terms. Lovely. How about if, instead, I simply keep you here?"
"I …there's nothing I can do about that."
Charlie cocked his head, and waited.
"He says your dragons will know. About him. He thought you might, but might not trust that. About the Legilimency, I mean."
Charlie blinked, then slowly nodded. He was a rather mediocre Legilimens himself, not especially strong and barely taught, and that much only because his particular talent with dragons and other creatures made having the rudiments under control useful; one could use every advantage one could get, when dealing with two-ton reptiles who breathed flame. Still, it was why Minerva was sending him Harry, because Snape was the only other Legilimens she knew, and there were, of course, reasons why he couldn’t teach him. And it was true, he wouldn’t trust his own mind against Snape's. Well. His mind, he would, but his ability to read him? Not at all. Snape was probably ten times stronger, and would be able to fool him.
But the dragons. Now that was something else entirely. They knew things that weren't perceptible to humans, things about motivation and trust, and things about drive. If he was there, and had communicated his doubts to one of the older females in particular, it would certainly let him know whether Snape was to be trusted. He made his decision. "Listen carefully. I'm letting you up, and you're to go out, directly to him. No, I won't follow. Tell him--" Charlie reached for a paperweight on the side table and transfigured it into a clock. "Tell him fifteen minutes according to this clock, on the hour, in the third enclosure south of the fence. If he's early, I'll assume ill intent. If he's late, I'm not waiting. Is that clear?" He released the boy, keeping his wand trained on him.
Malfoy nodded and looked at the clock. "On the hour, third south of the fence. Yes." He started for the door, then stopped. "He is one; I'm not."
"I beg your pardon?"
"Just. You should know, if you want to go poking about in my head, not that I like the idea, but you'd see …my point of view."
"Good to know," Charlie said dryly. "However, I'm not entirely sure I want to be mucking about in the head of a priggish Death Eater hopeful. Twelve minutes. And if I wind up assuming ill intent, you'll want to pass along that he's unlikely to do well if all of them take it into their heads to roast him for me."
The Malfoy shuddered and left, and by the time he was halfway up the path, Charlie had pulled up solid blocking charms all around the house, tied to himself and unlikely to be broken without his knowledge, and was sprinting south to the third enclosure. He'd chosen this enclosure for a reason. A rare twosome lived here, and he hoped to use that to his advantage, but it would take a minute to get organized.
Pairs of females were unusual. Pairs who were not of the same breed ---same sexed or not--were downright special. This duo was more so, because they'd been together for as long as Charlie had been here, and were utterly devoted, one to the other, and communicated better than any he'd ever seen. They could be bred, of course, and had been, though as they aged, he didn't especially expect to do so again. However, because one was a Horntail and the other an Opaleye, his experience was that when one was seen, the other was ignored. No one expected them to be working together. He intended to use that today, too. Just in case; he didn't think Snape would come here knowing what the dragons could do unless he was either mad or a whole lot more arrogant than Charlie had ever thought, but it was possible, and advantages were good to have.
He opened up his mind in the usual way and gave them an idea what he needed, then grinned as they huffed and snorted at each other, clearly talking things over. Danica was apparently elected chief emissary--or assassin, depending on how they felt, he supposed--and Gis wandered off to hang out near some of the great boulders in the enclosure, looking for all the world as though she had nothing to do with what was about to happen.
Charlie hopped up on top of the stone fence and waited, confident Danica would warn him if there was trouble.
Just as the hour struck, Snape came out of the edge of the woods nearest him. Danica roared, but the man didn't flinch, which Charlie took as at least cautiously positive. "Snape."
"Weasley." His tone was more hesitant than his posture, which was interesting, but again, neither dragon was especially alarmed.
"What do you want?"
"Safe haven."
"Why would I?" Charlie felt his eyes narrowing, but that was fair, and he'd never been much for social chitchat.
"Because your dragons aren't crisping me."
Charlie looked up at Danica, whose whirling eyes said she was still working, and looked back at Snape. "Because you're working on her, telling her not to. Not playing fair, Snape." He glanced toward Gis.
Who didn't look angry at all. He nearly laughed at Danica. A dragon, playing Bad Auror. "If I offer safe haven, what do you expect to happen?"
"Voldemort doesn't really… He hasn't realized what kinds of charms are up around the colonies, and has no reason to think I would run to someone like a Weasley--"
Charlie was a bit bothered by the way Snape had stopped mid-sentence; that didn't seem like the Snape he knew. However, a glance at Danica showed that she was watchful, alert, and evidently not worried. Huh. "I don't know that I want him to realize such a thing. Also, good idea, there. Insult your would-be host."
"Sod off. It's true; he knows I've never been friends with your father--or, Merlin help me, your mother, and given my association with Lucius--"
"Sod off, yourself. I already had to tolerate the boy in my damn house, and I don't need mention of his relatives. And you're dodging the question." He looked up pointedly at Danica, whose head had come down low. She was glaring. "What do you expect to happen?"
"Nothing. If all goes well. Possibly… Possibly something, but I don’t imagine anything focused would come near you. And if it did, I'd leave, as soon as you said the word."
"Likely too late. And why do you need harbor? And more to the point, why do you need it with me?"
Snape shrugged, a languid gesture that belied its own casual air because clearly, this wasn't a casual request. "He's aware neither of us are as loyal to him as he would like. The only other likely place I could go, there are an angry werewolf, a boy who thinks long after he acts, and your mother. And possibly an Auror or two with a bone to pick. And Draco can't go there anyway. He is in my care."
Charlie kept looking at him levelly. "I'll think it over."
"I don't have--"
"Time. I know. I'll think it over, and you may stay here with Danica and Gis while I do. I don't invite people into my space lightly, and I won't have you bothering the other handlers. Both of you, actually. The boy needs to stay here, as well. Here in the enclosure, I mean, while I consider."
Snape opened his mouth to object further, but closed it again immediately, regrouping then asking,. "Draco?"
"Ah. Yes, that's his name. He needs to come talk to them, too. Just in case."
Snape nodded and turned to the forest from which he'd emerged, beckoning. Charlie was entirely unsurprised to see Draco come forward, slowly, clearly nervous about the beasties. He glanced over at Gis, who had clearly been attending to this one, too, and then looked back. "They won't harm you, Malfoy, if you're honest. If you're not, they'll crisp that pretty skin black before you can say boo, so I'd not try to fool them."
He turned to go. "I'll let you know, when I decide. Don't try to leave."
"You're leaving us here?" Draco was whining, and sounded a bit panicky, but before Charlie could respond, Snape was speaking to him, low and quiet. Charlie glanced at the dragons, who were placid, and didn't bother trying to overhear. It was a father soothing a child, more or less, and nothing more sinister. Nothing to worry about.
"Yep!" Charlie gave a cheerful wave as he walked off. There was nothing to think about, but he thought he might as well let them sweat a bit, and Gis would have let him know if Snape had tried to get a look into his thought process even if he himself hadn't felt it, so it didn't matter that the man had the option; he wasn't using it. He hurried back up to the house; he was expecting a guest, and though the charms hadn't twanged at him, which meant Harry hadn't arrived, there was no cause to be dawdling.
He went up and pulled down the blocks--not all of them; his home, like the rest of this colony, was always to some degree protected--and set about putting away the dishes that had dried while he was out and cleaning up the stew pot that had been soaking. Then, he went out to the sitting room and plunked down in the chair to re-apply his salve and then read his journal. There was a particular article--a wide-ranging study of nesting sites and viability of newly hatched dragon pups--which had been calling to him all day, and he was bloody well going to sit here and read it while he'd a chance, and especially enjoy that he was making the Malfoy brat wait. He was surprised to learn that there was a significantly higher rate of survival of pups born in west-facing sites, in the mountains, and spent several moments wondering how he was going to persuade Lola, come spring, that her persistent east-face choice might not be the best one. She regularly lost half her pups, so it seemed the four and a half percent difference was worth a shot.
That new rap at the door, the one he'd been waiting for, came nearly an hour later, just as he'd got a good start on the SDR crossword. He wasn't sorry to put it down; he'd managed a pathetic single word he was certain of, and the puns weren't making sense in his head tonight. He tossed the report and his pencil onto the end table, and went to the door. "Ah. Harry. I've been mostly-expecting you."
"Mostly? Really?"
"Ayup. Minerva said something cryptic--I think she can't help herself; the woman is either blunt or frustratingly opaque--and I surmised you would be needing help with Occlumency, possibly something I can give. I could be wrong."
"Something like. Sorry, I don't think I knew you were an Occlumens?"
"Probably not. I'm certainly not the same caliber or type you've been working with, but then, perhaps a different approach, especially if you have a knack for it, is just the thing. Mine's more …Saurian, I suppose."
"You. What? You're a …Lizard Occlumens?"
Charlie laughed. "Dragon, actually. Many of us who do this for a living have a peculiar bent for that sort of thing; it helps to be a sort of Reptile Legilimens to get the bloody mules to go where you want them, and the other rather goes with, or they tend to make you too damn jumpy. It's the same, I think, or just about, but a different, I don't know, philosophy."
Harry thought about this. "Um. All right, then. So that's different, and I suppose it's easier than trying to learn from Snape. Also, the reptile bit might be, I don't know, something of a help, I suppose, given the whole business with the basilisk and Voldemort's horrid snake and all. And, I mean, you won't. Well, you might knock me on my arse, but it won't be because you're a horrid nasty awful murdering--"
"Oi, let me mention something here?"
Harry blinked. "What?"
"Snape's here. And--no, stop that. He wouldn’t be, if the ladies down in the pen didn't trust him. They'd know, Harry, if he were motivated as you believe. They'd be able to tell, and they'd have torched him where he stood. He's not what you think."
"And how do I know to believe you?"
"You know, Harry. If I were working for Voldemort, I'd an excellent opportunity three years ago during a rather chaotic scene at the World Cup, wouldn’t you say? But, the other thing about the difference is, whatever you've learned so far is …related to, but not the same as, what I'll show you, and you'd be able to tell, if you looked, if I were lying. I'm nowhere near as strong as Snape."
Harry considered this for a long while. "So, essentially, I shall just have to believe you, because if I don't, I can try to check, but I'll need to--"
"Actually, no," Charlie interrupted again. "Minerva sent you. She rather has some other instincts to work with, too."
"What? Oh. The. She can tell things as a cat?"
Charlie nodded. "Feel free to go ask her. Though actually, you can't tell her Snape's here. He just got here, and he's a reasonable need for silence on that."
Harry shook his head. "I think I'm developing a headache. And I saw Snape murdering--"
"Harry. I know. I know what you saw, from a relatively reliable report. And I can't tell you what happened, there, but I can tell you something must have been underlying, something you couldn’t know. I'm a straightforward bloke, with little use for social blather, so I'm willing to help you, but not willing to talk about it all night. It is what it is. Right?"
Harry nodded slowly. "He's not here, in the house, is he?"
"Nah. Down with the girls. Him and a friend. So. Say what you want to say."
"I just. I don't think I can learn anything while he's present."
"Fair enough. We'll let him freeze a bit longer, then, while I see where you are?"
"You want to--"
"Unless you can reckon a good way to describe for me what you know and can do?"
Harry twisted up his face. "Er. Well, he would just-- it would feel-- Bugger."
"Thought so. Hold on." Charlie dragged his wand out of his back pocket and pointed it. "Legilimens." He pushed his way into Harry's head, mouthing something rather like a Seeking charm to hone in on the memories he needed to see, then spent several moments looking through, rummaging back and forth before backing off. "Yeah, his methods didn't work well for you, did they? Can't say I don't see why; direct is all well and good, but there's a place for explaining, I suppose. And for showing. All right. Here. I need to make you unable to mention his presence, all right?"
"Like a Fidelius charm?"
"Ah. Related, vaguely. Same branch of magic, though it's restricting a piece of information inside you without restricting it in anyone else, so in that way, it isn't quite the same. Also, it will let you, if it's a matter of you or him. Just won't let you forget and mention him casually, you know? If I may?"
Harry shook his head. "I suppose. It's weird, though."
"Yeah. I know. Anyway." He muttered something that might have been retentoscuro, and watched Harry flinch as the odd lock clicked into place inside his head. "Good. Now. Here's your homework--I assume you wish not to stay here day after day? It seemed not, based on what I saw."
"Uh, no. I have things to find. Things to do."
"Exactly so. Right, then. Watch." He pushed his way into Harry's head again, and spoke. "It's easiest to think of it as a visual, for me. I don't know how to explain it any other way, so I'll hope it works well enough for you, too--though when I was first training, one of my colleagues swore it made more sense as a shift of harmonic. Now. Look right here. And see this, and distort, like this. Try it, then undo it."
He withdrew and watched as Harry's eyes unfocused then came back. "Oh! That's. But it."
"That's an internal exercise. Do it several times, four or five times a day. Come back when it's easy. When you can do it without thinking."
"But what's it--"
Charlie held up a finger and re-asserted himself inside Harry's thoughts. "Do it now?"
Harry paused, and then shakily, slowly, did as directed. Badly, and awkwardly, but in a manner that merely indicated a lack of practice, not anything worse. Charlie backed off again. "As I say. When it's easy. You've got the general idea. That's the first step."
"But Snape never--"
"I know. Different discipline, and different teacher. One of those things. Also, I could be wrong. I've never taught this before--never had an intern who didn't either already know how, as far as it goes for most of us, or lack the knack entirely. Go on, then. See if you can let me know when you plan to come back, but I'll see you when I see you, right? Ah, if it's still not easy in a week, come back anyway."
Harry nodded and went to the door. "What is that step, exactly?"
"It's the internal part that matches the external spell, sort of. It'll make more sense when you get the rest going, all right? Trust me on that."
Harry turned the handle and stepped through the door. "All right. I'll work on it, and be back next week, latest."
Charlie nodded and went back to his puzzle. It was easier, with less on his mind.
By the time he went back out to the enclosure, some four hours later, Draco was well and truly terrified--apparently Danica was enjoying herself puffing smoke at him and looking menacing--and Snape had clearly become exasperated with the boy's whinging and had moved to the far corner of the enclosure. "I'm surprised Gis let you come this far," Charlie said as he approached.
"They became upset. I ignored them, and once I stopped here, they settled."
"Fair enough. You can stay. I have conditions."
"I expected you would."
"First, I have an intermittent student who has no wish to see you. You'll become easy to avoid, when he's here."
Snape lifted a brow, but nodded.
"Second, if the girls decide you're hiding anything--not just these girls, but the others, too--there are no second chances. You don't have the right to keep secrets here."
Snape shuddered, but nodded again. "Except for those things I am bound to hide," he added.
"They wouldn't get worked up about those things," Charlie said. "Third, at least for the time being, the boy is your hostage. He stays even when you have reason to leave the colony."
"I won't--"
"Just in case. And you'll tell me ahead of time if you have reason to leave."
"All right. What else?"
"You teach me your brand of Legilimency. And Occlumency. In the presence of the girls." He nodded at Gis, who was all but snickering at Draco by now.
"I imagine that can be done," Snape allowed slowly. "Is that all?"
"For the moment. I'll tell you if the terms change."
"It would seem we have a deal. I don't suppose it includes bed and board?"
"We'll see what we can work out," Charlie said. "If nothing else, I have the infirmary. It's less than ideal for temperature and whatnot, but I imagine we can make it livable. It's not especially drafty or anything." He called out to Draco. "Oi! Malfoy. Come on, then. The two of you will be making yourselves at home in my barn."
He watched the boy blanch--which shouldn’t have been possible, given how pale he'd been to start--then swallow and nod acquiescence, walking a careful line between the dragon he clearly feared and the fence; he was trying to not look frightened, and failing rather spectacularly. "Gis, let him up," Charlie said quietly. She snorted puffs of smoke and moved off to the side, giving him freer walking space, which he didn't seem to much appreciate; he scowled and continued pretending he was utterly unalarmed as he walked toward Charlie and Snape.
Charlie turned and led the way up to the second building. It was the smaller of the two, long and narrow and, like every building and structure here, built entirely of stone. The other, larger, building was generally used to house newly-hatched dragons until their wings toughened up enough for weather, and for occasions when a handler and dragon were working on something where enclosure would be more practical. This one was generally used for both human and reptile medical care, with a long cabinet along each end and a dividing barrier bisecting the space. "Here," Charlie said, pointing to the "human" end. There were three beds and a rather rustic-looking cart that floated between them as needed, to act as a table for a surgeon or nurse. An ancient and rather quaint claw-footed bath stood open in one corner, the folding screen that might shield it leaning against the wall, with a sink and counter nearby and a toilet tucked right in with just a sliding curtain. "This should be adequate, I trust?"
Snape nodded curtly and glared at Draco, who appeared about to comment (negatively, Charlie suspected), then set down a traveling bag at the foot of the bed closest to the door. "I shall sleep here. Draco?"
Draco curled his lip and pointed at the far bed, not bothering to voice his opinion at all.
Charlie levitated and moved the third bed across to set along the opposite wall, just in case it should be needed, and set up a simple metal folding table and pair of chairs to fill the space where it had been. "There. Bed, table, chairs, and toilet. You can come up and share kitchen space. Please knock, as I will assume an intruder is an intruder."
And with that, he turned and left them there to work out their own shower and bedtime schedule. He had other things to do. Like have his own hot bath and pull on worn flannel pyjamas and a dressing gown, and have some nice tea. And see about finishing that puzzle.
That last proved impossible, and when he found his mind wandering to his guests for the fifth time, he gave up and went to bed.
By the time Harry came back, Charlie had learned several new things about Severus Snape.
For one, that man was surprisingly fastidious about certain issues of hygiene. Who would have guessed it? But he'd been up to the house before dawn the first morning asking whether there was a less-drying soap than that which was stocked in the infirmary, and if not, whether Charlie might have ingredients out of which to make some. Charlie had blinked, but looked in his lavatory and found a fresh bar of soap and a tube of some sort of soothing bath …stuff that his mother had sent two Christmases ago. He'd handed them over, and Snape had examined both, then declared the combination 'tolerable' and spun about to go.
Before Charlie had barred the door, he'd knocked again, asking after tooth-cleaning powder, and also shampoo.
Charlie had shaken his head and located both, then been surprised again half an hour later when both Snape and Draco, hair wet and both smelling of whatever "ocean breeze" was supposed to be (as it didn't smell like dead fish, he wasn't sure what that meant; it was slightly astringent and vaguely sweet, which wasn't so much his experience with the beach), had arrived seeking to use the kitchen. Snape had thoroughly scrubbed every surface before setting a complaining Draco to work chopping tomatoes and garlic while he rummaged in the icebox for eggs and sharp cheese.
Charlie had been too startled by the rather unexpected whirl of activity--he'd expected Snape to be an unadorned porridge and black coffee sort of fellow--to be offended by the unnecessary cleaning, and then too pleased to be served a lovely omelet (as well to make three as two, Snape had said) to object to the overtaking of his kitchen.
And it really was a lovely omelet. But then there had been the repeated scouring of the kitchen (an event later repeated before and after each meal, which led Charlie to believe this was, in fact, habit, and not a statement about his own hygiene) and a stop in Charlie's bath, and they were gone.
Which was fine. They were pleasant enough guests--well, Snape was; Draco was a whinging brat--but he had plans for harness-repair and that required the table and plenty of space without being bumped into and distracted. Dragon harnesses needed to be both functional and sturdy, in a way horse harnesses, well. They needed those things, but it took a lot more energy on the part of a horse to break one than it took a dragon. Dragons had a lot of kinetic power to burn, after all. So to speak. He'd got out the long broad straps and set to work with glue and grommet, and the occasional poke with his wand, and before he knew it, they'd been back for supper, and then they'd stayed for an hour or so, Charlie and Snape discussing topics of general interest to them both and the boy sulking in the sitting room, and the pattern had been set for the rest of the week: Charlie ate lunch alone, but had guests for both breakfast and supper, followed by easy conversation or companionship, though Draco often rolled his eyes and went back to the barn long before Snape.
It was, as he'd rather expected, the full week before Harry had returned. He'd warned Snape and the boy to stay out of the house for the evening, sending them with a great pot of stew to simmer over their fire in the barn and allowing Snape to borrow a half dozen back issues of periodicals that held articles on draconian medical applications. Draco hadn't found much in his shelves to enjoy, but he did still have a stack of old Muggle adventure stories, and those had been deemed juvenile, but at least something to do. Charlie had sighed, but let Snape add those to his pile of evening reading.
It was half six when Harry knocked, and Charlie was, once again, buried in his puzzle, feet up on the ottoman with one of Mum's ubiquitous quilts around his shoulders. He picked up his wand and stood, not bothering to set anything down, and went to the door, holding the quilt at his chest with one hand and the pencil and puzzle with the other. "Ai, Harry." He didn't waste any time on chitchat, simply pushing forward into Harry's mind with a word. "Show me?"
Harry blinked, then stepped inside and set down his satchel before doing as directed, almost confident as he performed the task Charlie had shown him the week before.
"Good. Almost there, on that, and I imagine it's a matter of practice. Next, the other side, Look, here." Charlie turned his own mind until it was as though his field of vision folded back on himself, which was bizarre but was how he'd been taught, so in principle, it ought to work for showing Harry. "So, you should be able, while you're turned like that, to see the analogous part of my mind, but not a great deal else. So, look for the same thing in my head that you've found in yours, and perform the opposite distortion. I know. I can't show you as directly. Well, try it, and if you can't reckon it out, I'll turn things around and try to show you in yourself, though that's awkward for its own reasons."
He stopped and waited, going along for the ride as Harry successfully found and not-so-successfully twisted.
"Ow! Not quite. All right, so that was sort of a turning anti-clockwise, and what you want is more of a folding over and pushing inside? It's not something I can do to myself, but, all right, here." He blinked and withdrew his mind from Harry's and walked over to set down the puzzle on the table and toss the quilt over the back of a chair, then sketched out with his hands the fold-and-push maneuver. "So, the reason you want to know how to do this, because I realize you have no particular intent to perform this skill, is because if you understand how to do it, you should understand how to not allow it to be done to you, see? And then, it's more a matter of strength. You got Ron and your Muggleborn friend helping you with that? I mean, have you tried that?"
"Er. Tried what? With which?"
"With the strength. Actually, I don't know that they can, but I should tell you I know it can be done in terms of dealing with dragons. That is, if I need to be able to force one of the beasties to let me direct him, I can get a couple of others with this skill to help me."
Harry blinked. "I. Oh. Well, Voldemort's got that snake, of course. It might be relevant. You'll have to teach me. Or them, but probably me, so I can show them, whichever's faster."
Charlie nodded. "All right, so try it again, now."
He waited, to feel Harry finding the place, and applying the pressure, and then, all at once, the odd sense of inversion that meant he'd got it. It had been sloppy, and if Charlie had been trying to hold him out, it would have taken little effort, but it was essentially right. Charlie nodded again, and said, "All right, and undo it."
Harry frowned. "Why?"
"Well. I'd rather you didn't leave me like this, and also, if you get out of my head entirely without undoing it, it hurts."
"Oh. Uh." Harry paused for a long moment. "So, a pull and unfold, then? On the left, kind of?"
"Something like. I can undo it myself, course, and I'll help you go the right way."
"Oh. Good. I was worried I'd not know how and leave it all--"
"No worries. Snape's still here. He could fix it, much as I'd rather not go ask him to."
Harry said nothing, merely frowning and trying to do as Charlie had directed. "All right. There?"
"Yep."
"Right. Okay, here goes." His brow furrowed in concentration and he attempted the maneuver.
"Not bad," Charlie said after a moment. "Not great, but not awful, and for a first try, pretty fair. All right, in and out again, and then we’ll stop and have a drink because I'm thirsty."
Harry bit his lip and set about doing it all over again, sweat dotting his nose, letting his glasses slide down. Charlie waited, deliberately not interfering, and let him do it, then nodded and went into the kitchen. "Milk?"
"Um. All right."
"I might have some biscuits," Charlie added. "The Malfoy brat seems to be unable to survive tea without them." He opened a cupboard and got out a tin, opening it and then bringing it to the table with the milk and a couple of tall glasses.
"Draco's here, too?"
"Oh. Did I not mention? I thought I said Snape had a friend with him."
"You did. I just thought you meant… I don't now who. Not like the greasy git has many friends."
"Eh. Not so greasy, these days. Dunno why, but every morning when he comes up, he's all scrubbed. Not greasy."
"You have him in here?"
"Breakfast. Supper. Chess, a couple of times. Mostly, he reads, and I read, and both of us tell the boy to shut it."
Harry smirked. "I bet that's going just brilliantly."
"Eh, he gets snippy, I can always threaten to have Gis mind him again. He didn't much like her. The boy, I mean. Snape doesn't seem to have much of a problem with her. She's one of the Antipodeans."
Harry laughed. "Are they staying long?"
"Long as they need a hiding place, I imagine. Or until they do something that causes the dragons to object to their presence."
"Don’t you object?"
"Well. Not much for houseguests--there's a reason I don't keep beds made up, after all--but on the whole, they've not been too bad. And Marek and Katrina don't object, either--though I think Katrina had designs on him at first. Snape, I mean. I was a bit surprised he didn't hex her to Antarctica, but he just told her she wasn't his type, and she apparently believed him."
Harry shook his head. "I still can't believe you're--"
"Do it again, now."
Harry sighed and fumbled through another journey into Charlie's mind and back out. "Good enough?"
"Good enough. Work on that until it's easy. Tell that snot of a youngest brother of mine to let you practice on him; not like he has secrets you don't know, right?"
"God, as long as I don't have to see anything he and Hermione do when, uh. Ew."
Charlie chuckled. "Tell him to think about slugs before you start or something. Though don't say, and don't think about your girlfriend, as that will rather not work. Anyway. Do that, come back in a couple of weeks? And we'll work on you not letting me in, and me keeping you out. Right?"
Harry got up and went to the door. "Right. I should let you know when I'm coming?"
"Sure. Give me a day's notice if you can, so I can keep the rabble out. And two weeks at most, right? You should have it well in hand by then."
Harry nodded, and opened the door. "Charlie? Thanks. I know this is kind of a pain."
Charlie shrugged. "Maybe after you off the bad guy, you'll have a career in managing beasties."
"Of course." Harry paused. "Actually, there might be something to be said for that." He went out into the night and up the path, and Charlie closed the door and put away the biscuit tin, then went back to his warm chair before the fire and tried to work out which word he was supposed to be anagramming to fit into the little boxes.
Charlie hadn't much thought about the impending holiday season, when he'd told Harry to come back, but Harry had sent notice he'd be delayed until Tuesday, and by the time that day arrived, a package from his mother had come, along with the usual note not to open until the appropriate day. From the feel of it, it was the standard pair of jumpers, apparently made of a rather bulkier grade of wool than usual, but as he stood with it in his hand, it occurred to him it was probably impossibly rude to have nothing in the way of holiday cheer for his guests. Well, the younger one, at least. Snape seemed as untouched by the notion as he was, but he expected going without would be rather a shock for the Malfoy and a look at the calendar informed him today was 23 December, so he locked up the house and went into town to see what was what.
What was what, apparently, was that there was a free event in the pub, which seemed to involved cabbage, and a wide assortment of knitted products in the market. Charlie sighed. As he'd only learned what Romanian he'd absorbed from occasional encounters with locals (which usually didn't involve a whole lot of talking beyond what was needed to ascertain whose bed they might employ) and what he'd got from the one-week course he'd been required to take upon his assignment here (from which he knew how to ask for a red pencil, as well as what the polite way to ask directions to the toilet was; neither of these had proven useful), he couldn't exactly ask after Christmas trappings, and nothing was obvious.
He sighed and went back past the colony to the international Apparation Station, and headed for London.
He hated Apparating, had done ever since he'd first failed the examination, and came out the London end shaking his head and cursing quietly, but, if nothing else, at least here there were mince pies and clockwise-stirred Christmas puddings, so that was something. He found himself purchasing a few decorations--tinsel and shining globes, and a candle …thing which looked Christmassy and seemed like it would go all right on his mantel--and thought well, perhaps it was high time he owned at least one object of Christmas ornamentation; it would be more cheerful. Then he got hold of both a pie and a pudding, and went back. A man could only stand the crowds for so long, and it wasn't as if he wanted to get gifts for his guests, anyway.
When he arrived, Snape and the boy were standing on his step looking put out, and he realized it was tea time already, and they'd begun to make a habit of coming up. Well. He wasn't in the habit of reporting to anyone, as long as he didn't intend to be away during his watch, and it hadn't occurred to him to do so now, either. Besides. It wasn't as though he owed them.
He let them in and took his purchases into the kitchen. "I thought perhaps mince pie today."
Snape lifted a brow, but said nothing.
The boy frowned and muttered something Charlie couldn’t hear, and went back into the sitting room to slouch on the sofa.
Charlie shrugged and set the water to heating, then cut himself a piece of the pie. He'd deal with the decorations later, without an audience. He was somewhat surprised when Snape got his own plate and served himself a rather liberal serving as well, but there was really no need to comment, so he simply sat at the table and ate his pie and sipped at his tea.
"Did you find this locally?" Snape asked, at length.
"No. I went into town, but there was mostly cabbage. And some sort of meat-stuffed …stuff. I went home for pie. And pudding. Got pudding, too."
"Hm. Well. It's tolerably good, but mine's better."
"What, you bake, too?"
"Relatively well, actually."
"Huh. All that, and he's a good cook."
He hadn't meant to say that, not quite, but a loud snort came from the direction of the living room. Charlie wasn't sure how to interpret it, but it covered Severus's bright blush at his inexplicable flirtation, and they both fell back into silence. It was companionable enough, just sitting there, eating and thinking, that Charlie failed to consider the time, finishing his pie and going back into the living room to at least put up his few decorations, mostly ignoring Draco and asking Snape to help him hang the garland, surprised when he agreed.
Finally, as the clock struck seven, he blinked. "Oh. Potter, this evening."
Snape stood at once and beckoned to the boy. "Come, then, Draco. We should get out of Mr Weasley's way."
Draco sank lower on the couch and spoke out of one lifted corner of his mouth. "Don't see why I should have to freeze my bollocks off just because the sainted Harry Potter is coming to call."
Snape frowned and made to reach for Draco's ear to haul him bodily off to the barns, but Charlie shrugged. "Fine. Stay. I actually could use a third party on whom to demonstrate."
Draco yelped and jumped up, his hand flying to the scar across his nose. "Demonstrate what?"
Charlie glanced at Snape, who had stopped sharply midway through tidying up the table of his own mess, and looked as startled as he was. "Not that, for heaven's sake. Legilimency."
Draco blinked, looking from Charlie to Snape and back again. "But. Why the hell are you--"
"Because," Snape interrupted before Charlie could, "I found him unable to learn."
Charlie waved a hand. "Nah. He's doing all right, but I come at it from a different discipline. Any case, he should be here any moment, now."
"Actually learning, is he? Unexpected."
"I think he rather doesn't want you present for it, or I'd have you stay to see. And it's merely a matter of a different approach. No reflection on you or him, I don't think."
Snape glowered, but nodded and moved toward the door. "Come along, Draco." They went out the back Draco whinging all the way, just as Harry arrived at the front. Charlie waited a moment before answering, just in case. It wasn't that he wouldn't actually need someone--and Snape would be good for the task at some point--up here eventually, but there was more to show before that was needed, and he was fine with coddling Harry for a bit, merely because it was easier to get the basics whilst comfortable than not.
"Hullo, Harry," he said when he finally opened the door. "I was having tea, and mince pie. Care for any? Also, Mum find you lot with the jumpers? Or are you not still traveling?"
Harry grinned. "She found us. I imagine she ought to work for some department or another in the Ministry, because we'd literally only just got settled into the place out in the marshes out west--south of Liverpool, you know--when there comes not an owl, because that would be too obvious or some such, but a bleeding purple heron with our parcels. Clearly, much more blended in, that--but obviously she was all over knowing where we were. Sometimes I think she's a bit scary, with that."
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