Villain of the Piece
Part 3 Waiting Games
- Chapter 43 -
Chapter 43: The Fox
and the Hare 12th to Having gone into denial about the Godric’s Hollow tragedy,
the Head of Slytherin appeared to be coping very well. He was still smarting about Honor but he was
confident that she could normally be found at work, and on balance he was in good
spirits because Dumbledore had sung his praises. And although he was concerned that the other
senior staff knew of his special role, he was not too concerned because they
were people of great power and long years of faithful service; they would not
thoughtlessly put him at risk now that they knew the truth. He could rely on them – up to a point. “You can only ever rely on anyone up to a point” he murmured, as he ambled down towards the
Entrance Hall, and a witch suckling a baby in a German medieval portrait,
answered “Yes indeed.” As the week continued the reaction of the staff was
curious. Wilbert Slinkhard appeared to
distance himself because of fear that Severus was still an active Death
Eater. Filius Flitwick was more inclined
to pay attention to anything Severus said, and On Thursday morning his spirits lifted a little higher
because an owl came from Honor. But it
was a very short note and that in itself warned him that not all was well. ‘Can you be in
Hogsmeade on Saturday?’ it asked. ‘I’ll
wait for you in Madam Puddifoot’s. I’ll
be there from The grounds were deserted, dissolving in a mist of cold
drizzle, as Severus set off shortly before eleven. It was a week before the first Hogsmeade
weekend and that plus the miserable weather meant that Madam Puddifoot’s was
almost empty. Honor sat at the table in
the window – the very one he had sat at with Regulus years ago. He hung his wet cloak on the coat stand. He could tell by the look on Honor’s face
that Tuesday’s press article had not passed her by. “Hello” she said guardedly. “At last!” he sighed.
“I was beginning to think you’d deserted me.” He looked at what she was having and ordered
the same. “Hold on” said Honor.
“This is a pecan Danish. Wouldn’t
you prefer apple?” “You still remember my preferences” he observed as Madam
Puddifoot set off to get him coffee and an apple and cinnamon Danish pastry. “I still remember” Honor agreed. There was no point in evading it so he added “I suppose you
are fully conversant with the media’s ‘Dumbledore’s Dark-Eyed Deceiver’?” “If you mean the ‘What of the Man in the Shadows’ little
titbit, yes, I’m fully conversant with that” Honor said shortly. “I’m not – as you can imagine – totally
comfortable with the notion of a dark-eyed ‘deceiver’ lurking in the Hogwarts
dungeons.” “Please don’t” Severus whispered back. “Sarcasm doesn’t suit you.” “Sarcasm is the only weapon I have left.” His food and drink arrived and they lapsed into silence,
resuming only when they were alone again. “You don’t need any weapons against me, Honor” Severus
insisted. “Yes I do!” she said firmly. “Oh yes I do.
I’ve always feared you had a predilection for the dark. You always kept in with people like the
Malfoys. There’s something behind these
allegations. You did what Regulus did,
didn’t you. Tell me the truth for once –
the whole truth. You did what he did.” “Do you–?” “–Yes, I do know what
he did! I know how he regrets it now,
and what a mess he’s in. You’ll end up
the same if you carry on like this.” “You don’t know
what I do” Severus insisted quietly. “It
couldn’t be bandied about in the press.
Trust me. Why do you think I’m
here, at Hogwarts? Why do you think
Dumbledore employs me? Ask him – ask him
about me if you feel you cannot trust my answers. But don’t ask me to explain everything. It’s too secret. Too dangerous. I shouldn’t even be saying this now.” “Then don’t say it” she whispered angrily. “Keep stumm, like you always have. But don’t assume that being the girlfriend of
a spy is much more fun than being the girlfriend of a criminal, because it
isn’t!” She finished her coffee, giving him time to think over what
she had said. She seemed in no hurry to
leave, but she could not be overawed.
Quietly Severus finished his pastry and poured more coffee. He realised that Honor had changed; she
wasn’t prepared to be there for him any more. “Well, what do you want us to do?” he asked eventually. “I think we should maybe stop seeing each other” she murmured. “You have a life here, now. That’s clear to me. And my life is elsewhere.” “I didn’t want it to end like this” he replied, annoyed but
trying not to sound angry. “No. Well, neither
did I” Honor admitted, “But I think our situation has run its course.” “Run its course? You
sound like you expected this.” “No, that’s not fair” Honor hissed. “I didn’t have any expectations. But I began to realise that I never got to
know you. You never let me in to your
life, and to the real you. I don’t
actually know anything about you, Severus!
Not your family, or where you grew up – anything! That – that just isn’t right. You said you had some secret job – well,
okay. I suppose there are things you
can’t talk about. And yes, I suppose you
must be legit if Dumbledore’s given you such a senior position. But that doesn’t alter the fact that you’re
too shielded for me. Too anonymous. I can’t cope with the isolation of it. I feel too much on the outside–” “I’m sorry I work so far away” Severus said gently, trying his
best to coax some warmth into the situation.
“But we get long holidays. It
won’t be like that once term–” “Don’t say once term ends” Honor hissed again. “That’s dodging the issue and you know it –
it’s not the distance that isolates me.
I felt the same even when we were in “You never said so.” “No. I was too
stupid to be able to pin down what was wrong” she muttered. “But now we’ve seen a bit less of each other –
now I know. We were still apart even
when we were closer. And I know that
that sort of relationship is not what I want.” “Then it’s goodbye.” “Yes, it’s goodbye” Honor agreed, sorting out some money
and leaving it on the table. “Stay
lucky, Sev. I mean that!” She got up and gave his shoulder a squeeze as she slipped
past him, out into the rain. The blur of
her cloak showed for a moment against the steamy window and then she was gone. After a moment’s hesitation Severus stepped out after her but
Honor was nowhere too be seen and he guessed she had Apparated across the
village to hail the Knight Bus in privacy.
He settled the bill, Apparated back to the castle, and remained in a
grim mood all day. He couldn’t sleep that night so rather than take a potion
he prowled the castle, trying to walk off his anger. Peeves tried to water-bomb him with a balloon
he had filled from the fountain in the courtyard but Severus cursed him, making
him zoom away, his bow-tie drawing him forward like a propeller. “The bitch! The
bloody bitch!” he snarled, watching Peeves zoom up the Charms corridor. “Who’s a bitch?” a portrait asked. Severus glared at him.
“No one” he growled back to the startled old wizard. “Only a skinny young witch I used to sleep
with – when it suited us both!” and he stomped away; the portraits gasping in
outrage at what he had said. The next week idled by, slower than the previous one, and
in billows of squally rain. Wilbert had
said no more about the Quidditch international and Severus didn’t mind too much
because he didn’t feel in a mood for Quidditch, so when “It’s on the first Saturday of the holidays” she said. “Me and Dughall and Septima and you could
make up a foursome if you like. We’re
off to see Othello. How do you fancy
it?” “Yes, that would be nice” he agreed. “Thank you.
Let me know what I owe for the ticket.” He wondered about asking I must admit I’ve disgraced myself, he conceded as he
wandered out of the Great Hall. All
things considered, He realised that he was getting life into some kind of
order again. He had withstood the pain
of Lily’s death, and the anger at losing Honor, and the worry of his damaged
reputation caused by the press. The loss
of the Dark Lord was also a wrench to be considered. In many respects it was a huge relief, and
yet it was still a loss – it still required, on Severus’s part, an emotional
adjustment. The greatest wizard of all
time had gone from the world. And as a
result he could no longer be Voldemort’s colleague; nor his pupil. “Broken dreams” he murmured, as he climbed the long stone
staircase to the fourth floor and headed for the library. “Past glories; past recalling. Who said that?” “Remiglius Ravenclaw in his book entitled ‘Temporal
Portkeys’ ” a portrait replied. “Nice try” Severus said.
“Actually it was Melkeor Slytherin – Portals of Time – 1643, Dust and
Mildewe.” * On the day of the Hogsmeade weekend Severus had a quick pint
of mead with Ted Kettleburn in the Three Broomsticks and then returned to
school and caught up with marking. By
nightfall he was weary but far from sleepy.
After a week of foul weather the night was clear, and he walked around
the school for the sake of the exercise, enjoying the deep tolling of the clock
announcing It was on the third floor that he heard it; a faint
noise. Students off to the kitchens, he
wondered? But the source of the noise
eluded him and surely no student could move as quietly as that. He began to stalk it. Was it moving up the long stairs to the
fourth floor? At the top of the stairs a suit of armour fell, crashing
down in metallic echoes, and he took the rest of the steps two or three at a
time, jumping the tumbling armour. But the
armour seemed to grab at his legs and he stumbled, landing badly. Limping on, he reached the corridor. Wasn’t that a figure ahead? A tall figure? He fired a stunning spell, watching it sear the
darkness. It didn’t find its mark; instead
there was a blaze of brilliant flame and then he was knocked backwards, over
the lip of the staircase. He came to, feeling grass under his fingers. Damp grass.
He was in the parkland far from the castle walls. Dew was soaking the back of his robes and
wetting his hair. It was cold. A hooded figure stood over him, holding a broomstick in one
hand and a wand in the other. “Is that
you, Snape?” it said. “Bellatrix?” “Yes. Are you okay?” “What do you want, Bella?” Severus asked. “How did you get in?” “Secret passage from the Shack” she said. “I’m glad I ran into you out here. Very handy – it’s your help I want.” “Why?” “Why?” She sounded
exasperated and hissed “It may have escaped your notice, Snape, but the Dark
Lord has vanished. I’m going to find
him.” “He’s gone for good.
Finished, Bella. It’s over” Severus
said sadly, rising to his feet. Bellatrix didn’t lower her wand. She edged back, keeping a distance between
them; a safety zone. Severus gripped his
wand and eased it forward in his sleeve.
He knew his right ankle was weak – it felt sprained – and he felt
slightly dizzy, but otherwise okay. He
didn’t like facing Bellatrix when feeling less than a hundred percent, but fortunately
she seemed more taken up with his comment that the Dark Lord was no more. “No, I will not believe that!” she spat back. “The Dark Lord cannot be gone for good. He is the greatest wizard that ever
lived. He cannot just vanish. He’s out there, somewhere, waiting for us. It’s a test.
He wants to test our resolve. And
I’ll move heaven and earth to have him back.” “He’s gone, Bella” Severus insisted softly, almost
pityingly as he inched his wand forward. “People are saying that, yes” she replied. “I’m surprised you’re taking that line. I’m surprised you’ve given up hope so
easily. Help me, Severus. Come with me.” “I have a job to do.
And would you mind lowering your wand?” “Don’t be a fool!” she snarled. “You know what I mean. You know how to make time for – ah – extramural
activities. What could be more important
than this?” “Where do you propose to start looking?” “I don’t know. I’ve
tried Mynydd Myddfai. I drew a
blank. I need inspiration.” “And I’m to be your inspiration? How very flattering” he sneered. “You must like me more than I thought. But do put that wand away; it rather spoils
the effect.” “I’m not sure I can trust you” she flared angrily. “You might turn me in.” “Turn you in? Who do
you think I am? Igor Karkaroff?” “Yes, he did rather point the finger at you” she sniggered. “It might repair the damage if you fed me to
the Ministry. ‘Dumbledore’s Dark-Eyed
Deceiver is Good Boy After All; Karkaroff Got it Wrong – Blamed him out of Desperation’
something like that the storyline would be.
It could get you off a hook.” “Tempting.” “Look, stop pissing me about!” she hissed, even more angry
with him. “Are you with me or not?” “I think not on
this occasion” said Severus, “As you haven’t got a clue about what you are actually
going to do–” He had barely stopped speaking when his wand was wrenched from
his sleeve. In one flowing movement
Bellatrix caught it and mounted her broom, rising in circles higher and
higher. He could see her, a menacing
cloaked shape, blotting out the stars. Suddenly
she dropped an object and made off, speeding like a bullet. A desperate second of scrabbling on the ground
won him back his wand and he pointed it towards her, but in vane. The spell shot across the parkland, but Bella
flew at breakneck speed, zig-zaging like a hare avoiding a fox. She was around a corner of the castle and out
of sight in seconds. He stood ankle deep in the damp grass, running a thumb painfully
over the handle of his wand, feeling the royal circles carved in the
ebony. Yes, it was his own wand – he was
sure of that. Bellatrix had given it
back, it wasn’t a fake; and it has responded as well as ever. She was just too fast; that was the problem. He fired a Patronus and began to walk towards the castle,
limping and feeling rather a wreck. Suddenly
he ached everywhere, his wand hand was scorched, and a more definite pain,
twanging like a warning bell, was beginning in the triceps muscle of his left
arm. There were two people he needed to
see – Dumbledore definitely, and possibly Madam Pomfrey. But the parkland was dissolving before his
eyes. His head was swimming. The castle seemed as far off as ever… He was in his bedroom when he came to again, lying on top
of the bed, fully clothed but without shoes. Dumbledore was standing over him, looking grave. “Severus” he said. “I think I ought to call Poppy. I think she ought to examine you.” “Yes, I suppose she must” Severus agreed. “That means–” “What if I swear her to secrecy, as I did with the House
Heads?” Severus thought it over and decided it was for the best. He felt ill and in a lot of pain now. It was either Poppy or St Mungo’s – but he
could not expect to escape examination altogether. ‘Keep it in the family’ Lucius would say, he told
himself. Yes, let it be Poppy. It was odd stripping off all his clothes in front of Poppy
Pomfrey. It was something he had not
done since he was a schoolboy, and certainly not in a bedroom in the dungeons. He shed his clothes slowly, afraid of
toppling over, and then stood with one hand against a bedpost to steady himself
as she walked around him, ducking under his arm. Dumbledore looked on, faintly amused at his
slight embarrassment, but concerned at his physical condition. His right ankle was swollen and the muscle in
the shin above had gone into spasm, as had the muscle above his left elbow. He fought off a wave of nausea and stood
there, waiting as Poppy continued her surveillance. She made no mention of the faint silver Mark
on his arm, the only gasp of horror was caused by the sight of his back. “You’re all bruises, man!” “It’s my ankle that cripples me” he murmured, keeping his
right foot just clear of the floor. “And
I think I’ve banged my head – I feel perpetually nauseous and dizzy.” “Yes, there’s a lump on the back of your head” she said, running
her wand over him as if it was a Muggle scanning device. “Look at the bruising, Headmaster. Scapulae, sacrum … heel.” “Is the ankle broken, Poppy?” “No, definitely not broken.
It’s more likely a sprain. But there
is skeletal damage” she added sadly. “There’s
a greenstick facture of the left radius not far from the point of the elbow. Fortunately the bone didn’t puncture the skin. And there just might possibly be a hair-line
fracture to the skull. Okay, Severus
we’ll let you lie down now.” “Shall we get Severus to St Mungo’s?” Dumbledore asked, as
Poppy hunted for a fresh nightshirt for her patient. “St Mungo’s?” he gasped.
“ Dumbledore ignored him and said softly “Will it be a re-run
of last time?” “No, Headmaster” Poppy assured him. “Severus is a fit young man and these breaks
are small. Skele-Grow and a couple of
days in bed should make all the difference.” “Two days?” “Yes and I’ll have to splint that arm, and possibly the
ankle” she said severely. “Burn-paste
for your wand-hand, and pennyroyal for the bruises. This will certainly need a couple of day’s
bed rest.” “But, I have classes tomorrow.” “Skele-Grow isn’t that fast. I wish it was. And don’t underestimate the severity of a
sprained ankle!” “Oh, don’t worry about lessons, Severus. I can get Minerva to sort out your timetable”
Dumbledore said smoothly. “But when
Poppy has patched you up I’d like a word.” Severus gave the Headmaster as full an account as he could
of his run-in with Bellatrix Lestrange but it made a thin, unconvincing
story. He agreed to use of the Pensieve
and Dumbledore fetched it to his bedside.
But even a re-examination of his memory was of no assistance. “She showed no sign of attacking you” Dumbledore said when
he emerged from inspecting the memory. “She
merely disarmed you. Why were you out in
the grounds?” Severus was beginning to feel more and more confused. “I walk around when I cannot sleep” he explained. “I usually stay indoors.” “Then perhaps you were indoors. Perhaps you have been made to forget that.” “She Obliviated me?” “Quite possibly. And
yet she doesn’t mind you knowing about Mynydd Myddfai.” “What is Mynydd Myddfai?” “Where is Mynydd Myddfai is the correct question”
Dumbledore said. “It is near to Godric’s
Hollow. No, that little detail didn’t
matter to her. She says she found you
outside. I wonder. I wonder what happened before you woke
up. You – and the beautiful Bellatrix –
could have been doing anything.” The possibilities cheered Severus; a cruel smile twisted his
mouth. “Absolutely ‘anything’ ” he repeated. “How tragic to have had a romantic dalliance
with beautiful Bella and not to remember it.
But no, I wonder what really happened in those missing moments. My clothes are muddy and wet, and that argues
a scuffle outside. But Bella didn’t look
as if she’d been in a scuffle. Perhaps
there was a third person – perhaps she watched while I fought someone else.” “All that is clear is that you got hurt” Dumbledore replied. “Beaten up, perhaps. But why would Bellatrix attack you, or allow
you to be attacked? As a
punishment? To defend herself? No, she would use curses, she wouldn’t choose
to defend herself physically. She loves
magic too much to use any other means. Yes,
perhaps someone else attacked you.
Someone else, or something
else. Perhaps Bella really did find you
lying in the grounds, having been attacked by someone else. Perhaps she really did want your help – that
plea sounded very genuine. Remind me again
exactly what your last memory was before the encounter with Bella?” Severus sighed. “I
remember walking up the main staircase” he said. “The girl with the posy curtsied to me. She usually does when I’m alone.” “I will question the portraits” Dumbledore said. “They can tell me your route. I should have thought of this sooner.” The Headmaster hurried away and returned a little while
later. He was able to outline Severus’s
journey to the third floor, his stalking of a shadowy figure and his mad dash
to the fourth floor. He had even found
the battered suit of armour at the bottom of the staircase. “I am told that your foot slipped backwards down a stair or
two, as you were trying to leap the armour” he said. “Hence the sprained ankle. But you got to the top. You got a few paces along the corridor.” “And then what did I do?” “Fired a spell along the corridor. A spell came back and hit you, and knocked you
backwards down the staircase. You’ve made
some lovely dents in the armour.” “And then?” “A figure floated you away.
By Mobilicorpus, or some such means.” Silence fell. “Is that it?” Severus asked helplessly. “Is that all they know?” “Yes” Dumbledore sighed.
“Unfortunately your fall made such a commotion that all the portrait
subjects rushed to the staircase to have a look. I’ve warned them about leaving their
frames. That is how a diversion can be
set up. Ah, well! Time will tell what was going on. And perhaps your memory will repair
itself. But I think you were Obliviated
very powerfully. I could say
brutally. That, to me, speaks of Bella;
or of her friends. Silent incantations
of course, so there is no overheard speech to help us. I do not think you were physically beaten,
more likely you stunned yourself as your head hit step after step. In fact I’m amazed you survived this.” Severus grinned.
“Poppy said I had a thick skull” he said. “What did she say about the Mark?” “Nothing” Dumbledore said.
“She swore to keep secret your Death Eater past and knowledge of the
Mark on your arm. She passed no opinion
about it. In that respect Poppy is like
Hagrid, she is loyal to me. And she is a
far more worldly woman than Minerva.” Severus nodded, feeling reassured. Poppy had certainly done her best for him,
she had not held back when he needed treatment, she had offered him every spell
and every substance at her disposal. And
he felt better already simply for being cared for. |
Author’s Notes I am indebted to another friend (Lady Claudia) for the details
of Snape’s wand. |
- Chapter 44 - |