He had to admit, albeit he had been prepared with sunglasses, a short sleeved olive shirt, ochre britches, leather sandals and three hair ties to tame his waves into a surfer bun, that he should have come earlier in the day. Much earlier. Night would have been the even better idea. Fearing he would burn under the local midday sun’s gleaming spears, knowing his bared skin attracted not only the UV rays but everyone’s attention like marble in an obsidian quarry, he searched his way from shadow to shadow, self-ironically laughing inside about every single person that had ever come up with the assumption that he was indeed a vampire. Currently he felt like one, at least. It was not only the flipside of the world, it was the flipside on the thermometer, compared to Scotland.
However, his determinedness was enough to keep his eyes focused, piercing through the shades, knowing his target was equally odd among the naturally tanned people around. Smells and foreign words hitting him as he sought his way through the market, he had to refuse several offers, from still living chicken to car parts and – herbs that did indeed test his determinedness to find whom he was looking for, as soon as possible. He was actually tempted to come back to one stand later.
Of course he could have used a tracker, but he alone was enough source of magic he had to conceal. Any applied spell could have been too much, no matter how skilled he was.
And there was the face he had searched for, bright red from the heat, swimming in sweat, the benjy on his remaining hair only little relief. With a broad grin of himself and the customer, he handed over an outdated looking kind of the tool, accepting the money with a laugh and an accent heavy greet. Then he disappeared in the shadow of the garage he apparently called his shop now. Arriving at it, he saw that the man had sunken into a very forgiving large beach chair surrounded by what appeared to be an arsenal of tools, very worn down cupboards that were obviously holding screws and alike and a squeaking, rattling fan. Arms akimbo and his legs stretched out, the round man had closed his eyes to let the rusty fan do its duty. Siesta looked different, but he knew if it hadn’t been midday, the market would have been bustling with people.
Joining him in the surprisingly much cooler garage, he came to halt by a workbench, to which he leant himself, arms and legs crossed leisurely. With a sniff that made his walrus beard quiver, the man opened only his left eye to look straight at who meant to disturb him.
“Hola señor.”, the newcomer smirked, then pushing his sunglasses a little down his nose. “¿Cómo estás?”
“Estás what the devil are you doing here, goodness sake!”, he jumped up so quickly the chair didn’t even have time to prepare for falling over. “How did you – ”, with a checking glance outside, he grabbed a string on the rusty garage door and pulled it down as quickly as he could.
“You know how I found you.”, relieved that he could now gladly wipe the sweat off his face, Severus hooked the sunglasses to his collar.
“Of course he told you.”, Vernon puffed.
“He told me, after I had spent a week trying to find you where Harry supposedly dropped you off.”
“Well, guess what, I didn’t like where Harry dropped me off.”
“What’s wrong with Chicago?”, no reply, only a glare. “Look, I only meant to check whether you’re still alive.”
“I haven’t melted yet, as you can see.”
“Clearly. Fine business you have built yourself.”
“I know how to use a drill.”, he grunted. “And how to repair one. Among other things. I don’t know if you know, but that’s how I started. Long before Harry convinced me to sell what I worked my entire life for and donate the proceeds. I was looking at a fine retirement. See what I am looking at now. You and your smirk. In a dirty garage.”
“What was wrong with the MACUSA provided penthouse in Chicago?”, Severus repeated, ignoring the rant knowingly. “And how did you manage to contact Alastor?”
Still puffing, waiting a few seconds, Vernon weighed. But then he pushed his hand into his rear pocket, pulling out a very tousled red and golden bundle of feathers. His smirk remaining, Severus nodded to the brittle concrete floor.
“Of course. I should have known Harry wouldn’t drop you off without Phoenix feathers.”, eyes back on Vernon, he still waited to hear the words from his mouth.
“Yes. Very caring he is, that Harry. Taught me how to use them, in case of emergency.”, Vernon’s tone stayed the same. “Fine! Yes! You want to hear it?”
“Quite, yes.”
“It was an emergency! I worked hard all my life!”, he brandished his fist with the feathers. “Just to be bereft of it all! Am I not allowed to spend the rest of my life with people I already know? Yes! I’ve made friends here! Are you satisfied now?”
“I am satisfied, yes.”, Severus smiled gently. “That Harry judged you correctly. That you have a heart with need for comfort, no matter how much you try to conceal it. I would go as far as claiming that he knew you’d use one of the feathers to get in contact with Alastor.”
“If that’s the case,”, he finally dropped his resent with a last huff, storing the feathers and straightening his disturbingly colourful Hawaiian shirt that had many fresh and old sweat stains, “Then you understand the boy better than I do.”
“Interesting, that he still is a boy to you.”
“Man, whatever.”
“Vernon. You didn’t call him a boy because you missed that he grew up. You know this as much as I do. As much as he will always be the boy you had to look after, although it had been Petunia to do so, as much he will always be the boy I forced myself to watch from between the hedges.”
“So you did spy on us.”
“Of course I did. Who wouldn’t be curious. If it had been the other way round, and you had had to put Dudley in the care of others, wouldn’t you have done the same?”, it was utterly fascinating to see the wheels in his brain click in place. “I see, you figured why I understand Harry and his ways of thinking. Or why I decided to rescue all of you, back then.”
“Screw it.”
“Isn’t that,”, with an amused frown, he briefly scanned the garage again, “Your business?”
“Oh shut up before I chop your head off with the fan. Not that I think the fan’s strong enough or anything. I don’t even want to know how you managed to stick your buddy into her with that hound dog watching.”
“Charming.”, Severus sighed, with his legs still crossed, but hooked his thumbs to the front pockets of his britches now, relieved about the fan’s fresh breeze on his arms. “You have become a very civilised man.”
“And you? Impregnating a married woman?”
“I had no idea you ever cared for Lily. Or my brother.”
“You – wow. Your brother.”
“And I know what you are driving at, but I never touched Petunia. You can believe me.”
“Now didn’t you.”, Vernon gave him a frowning nod.
“I never had feelings for her. At least not of that kind.”
“So she didn’t leave me because of you?”
“No.”, he said serious. “As we tried to make you understand. She left because you treated her so negligent; took for granted that she was just there, every day of your life, that she had given up hope that you still loved her. That was all she wanted to know. If you loved her as much as she still loved you. But you never answered her question. So she let go.”
“But I do love her.”, Vernon huffed again, sincere this time. “I still love her like on the day we married. I don’t know what she’s doing now and it hurts me so much I can only distract myself by repairing tools. I’ve been here for a month and I feel like I’m already becoming one of the machines I’m fixing. I want to know if she’s happy. Or Dudley. Because if she is, if they are, I am. Please tell me she’s happy.”
“Why don’t you – ”, Severus turned his head to the left reaching over to what he could see but Vernon could not, and two bony hands helped him pull off the shiny fabric, revealing her to be even more drenched than her ex’s shirt, “Ask her yourself?”
“P-petunia – ”, with his gasp, his jaw slightly dropped, and he blinked heavily, trying to veil tears as being disbelief only.
“Hello Vernon.”, she said woeful.
“Now then,”, Severus sighed, folding the cloak to a neat pile, “Seeing as you are ready to talk now, I’ll be leaving you. I have to be somewhere in two hours and I want to be certain I don’t get hit by worse than rusty fans. Make sure you use those feathers wisely. Good luck.”
~~#~~
A surreal oddity laid in the air, owning not only him, but many around. Carefully ignoring that he was the centre of the attention, he focused on his onion clapshot with oatcakes, the woman two seats to his right, clearly jealous that she had to go with the evening’s menu, like so many times. Not that the food was bad. He just knew that she had always hated the fact that he had gotten the meals he had wanted, already as a student. And although she knew the reason, and despite Septima receiving the same service, she still didn’t like it, in the particular case of him. But he couldn’t care less. In fact, it even amused him that of all traits she could have kept, this was one of them.
Done, he pushed his plate aside, and instantly, a bowl of stewed apples appeared, with a dragon’s puff from his right, once again. Grinning inside even more, he did his best to tease her with his way of eating, without deigning her a look. Even more so, when all others in their vicinity had decided they were done with the main course and bigger bowls of stewed apples arrived, with small bowls for everyone to take what they could still fit in their stomachs.
“You are,”, her lovely puffing met his ear, “An exceptionally fine – hurdie. You know that?”
“I have not the slightest clue what you are talking about.”, Severus remained openly indifferent, holding his spoon ostentatiously in the air and ate its content, very slow.
“I meant that you talked to the Elves.”, she hissed.
“Of course I did. They needed to know I am back. Serves no one if I die at my very first supper.”
“Yes, yes. And you are sure they don’t know? None of them?”, she changed topic so she wouldn’t frustrate herself even more.
“Do you trust her?”
“I’d like to. But she isn’t a trained Obliviator.”
“If you mean by trained, that she has a Ministry approved certificate, no. But she is trained; I can guarantee you. Very well even. She walks into a room and knows everyone’s minds better than the owners do. With very few exceptions, of course, but I believe you know as well as I do that no such exception sits on those four long tables. You can gladly hold your speech. All they know is that Horace retired two weeks ago, due to health issues. Which is both surprisingly and unsurprisingly true. His therapy has been approved. There is only three who are still alive. One gave his statement, one still has no memory and the third had put it behind. There is nothing more anyone can do.”
“And you are still sure you want to do this? I could say you were merely our guest and look for another – ”
“Is it no longer your wish to have me back?”, he fiercely pushed his empty bowl to the side.
“Of course it is! I’m merely saying, people will not like it. The parents will not like it.”
“I was vindicated and it is on you to calm the parents. Besides, I am open for a personal chat with everyone who has a problem with me. I don’t mind.”, stiff like a tree between them, Septima’s eyes only travelled left and right, without any other deliberate movement of her head.
“You are also aware that you will probably spend the first two weeks convincing the students that you won’t kill any of them? Or answering their nosy questions? They are behind on the curriculum already.”
“That, Minerva, shall be my problem, not? Just like it was my problem and mine alone, in the staff meeting?”, he sneered. “And if I was honest to myself, I would actually look forward to it, as it would be the first time after sixteen years of teaching at this school, that a large number of students wants to ask me things. Not necessarily subject related, but it should be interesting, to say the least.”
“And I think,”, Neville hissed over, “You should hurry with your announcement. Before any of them actually loses their patience and goes to bed.”
“Yes, yes.”, she huffed.
Straightening her clothes as she raised, she then took her spoon and chimed it against her goblet three times. It gave her the immediate attention of everyone in the Great Hall.
“May I have your attention, please?”, she had of course, but simply wanted to make sure it was really the case. “Now. As all of you know by the lack of a certain class for the past two weeks and the absence of your teacher, Professor Slughorn had decided to retire. Sadly so shortly after the beginning of the educational year, but his troubling health forced him to take this step. I assure you, I am aware that many of you may not agree with my decision, but, as we all should put more value in proper education over personal opinions in such matters, I can gladly say that with our newest member of staff, we do not only welcome back a familiar face to this school, but a teacher who takes the accumulation of knowledge utterly serious. After all, you are here to learn. Please, before you all go to bed, welcome with me; who will once again be our Potions Master as well as Head of Slytherin House: Professor Severus Snape.”
~~#~~
Four knocks on a dark old door, and a heart, sinking. However prepared, the green shimmering feather quill found its way back into the ink pot, waving for a second, like a banner in a breeze that wasn’t there. Outside the single window, close to the floor, a huge lone eye disappeared in the blackness of the lake. He heard one of the tentacles brush by the sturdy glass as the creature turned to dive down. The silent guardian of old. No soul in this world knew how old actually. Only the spirits might tell, and they kept the secret. Held the myth alive like whatever it was that held the squid alive.
“Come in.”, he sighed, his reading glasses placed on the desk, by the ink pot now.
Though who came in, was differing from her so much like a beaver differed from an eagle. And still, he had somehow expected him to show up. He had been the only in the meeting that hadn’t said a single word. Even his sister had talked. She now taught what he had shortly after the war; and he had, to make way for her, accepted. Hestia had never been meant to be a teacher anyway. Her talents laid elsewhere and she had moved on.
“Sit down,”
With a gesture, he offered him the chair on the other side of the table; wiped some of his long black waves over his shoulder. They were even darker than the fabric of his black robe, but perhaps it was only the chandelier’s light. For now, the fireplace was cold.. The crackling of the flames in the silence had annoyed him. Curious, the other sat down and let his brown eyes drift around. Scanned the rows of shelves that held no dust anymore, but once again, uncountable jars filled with the most bizarre things. And books. Many books. What seemed to confuse the man the most however, was an object that didn’t fit into the dark, neatly sorted surrounding: hanging from the plain iron chandelier and made from various gifts of nature, was a sort of dreamcatcher. Spun into its middle, what looked like a crystal taken from some other chandelier.
“It traps the fears of everyone coming in here and lastly unleashes them on those who seek for my life.”, he answered the obvious question very calm and serious, causing the man to swallow hard and take his eyes off the object eventually, to look at him. “That is up to you to believe it or not, however. Still I wouldn’t question the abilities of who gave me the Fearcatcher.”
And indeed, as though it had done its work well, all tension fell off the man and he scratched his short foxy red locks with an embarrassed laugh, which too, cast a smile on the other’s face.
“Now then!”, he calmed down and loosened the two upper buttons of his white linen shirt that he wore under the brown waistcoat. “Let’s be real.”
“Let us be real, yes.”
“The others don’t like you. Well, most of them. Not even some of your former colleagues.”
“I’m not here to be liked. I’m here to teach another generation that is our future and I’m here because my presence in this school has become imperative once more. I am here because it is essential for my family that I’m here now.”, he explained, earnest again. “You don’t need to understand. Especially, as I don’t want you to become your cousin’s toy.”
“You mean Irchard? What does he have to do with it? Sure, he’s now a bigwig in the Ministry, but him and I never saw eye to eye much. In fact, I can count the amount of conversations I had with him in all my life, on the limited amount of fingers I still have.”, emphasising, he briefly lifted his hands and revealed the full lacking of the little and most of the middle finger on the left, as well as the front phalanx of his right ring finger. “I don’t think he even remembers I exist, if people don’t explicitly remind him.”
“Well, that may be good news, but it can also be potentially bad.”
“Why’s that bad? I’m not interested in politics. So in ways, I’m like you. Here to teach. I want to teach children that while we might differ from Muggles by a genetic mutation, we’re all part of the same human species, sharing the same planet.”
“And there, you just contradicted yourself. Preaching equality, is always a political statement, as well. Also that is what I meant to tell you. Be careful, or you will be a target. Of course we must successfully persuade people of that opinion, or conflicts will never stop, but it is also a tricky persuasion, seeing as persuasion is against the very same opinion as well. To let everyone live their lives and their thoughts be theirs. Finding the balance is hard. Even more so now, as our society is starting to fall back into old habits, where fear mongers throw tiny beads of hate into our middle, and not only in our society.”
“I’m not afraid to stand up for my belief.”
“You were already afraid of pebbles, shells and nuts on strings.”, the smart-alecky look he gave him, resulted in a huff.
“Say what you want. Besides, I only came here to warn you that it might take some time to gain everyone’s trust.”
“Are you naïve enough to believe I’m not up to that? I may be many years younger than you, but that doesn’t naturally make me dumb, Herbert.”
“Right. After all, you managed to survive quite the dangerous life. As I heard, not because you were constantly lucky.”
“Who says I survived?”, Severus frowned, giving Herbert pause.
“I also heard you and your lot believe very much in the transparency of ghosts. Don’t get me wrong, but – you look very opaque to me.”
Their immediate silence didn’t last long. Hesitant sounding, another fist attempted to gain entry for its owner.
“Apparently, more people would like to seek my presence than you believed to know, Herbert.”, looking straight at him, he waited.
“Then why don’t you want to – ”, the door opened, someone scurried in, hectically closing it behind.
“No need to ask someone who knows they don’t need actual word from me to be allowed in here.”
“You – ”, turning his head at the newcomer, Herbert faltered. “Oh.”
“Yes?”, Albus didn’t react; he only glared at the empty fireplace. “Go on, light it, if it makes you feel better,”
“I don’t get it.”, the boy grumbled.
“Get what.”
“He’s been through so much. Seen so much. And still he is nothing but an ordinary teacher, following the curriculum.”, with a sniffing sigh, Severus briefly lowered his head.
“You must understand, Albus, maybe he has seen too much. Have you ever thought about it that way? That after all these years of teaching, he has decided for himself that this is the only way to cope with it? To follow a routine? So he doesn’t have to be reminded of it all, constantly? If I may say so, he is doing the job he gets paid for. And you, cannot blame him for it. For that, you haven’t spent enough years in this world. You haven’t seen the things he has seen.”
“But you’ll be different, right? I promised everyone that you’ll be a teacher. A proper teacher.”
“Define being a proper teacher.”, legs crossed, his fingers folded on his lap, he leaned back.
“I don’t know.”, panted Albus, his head sinking. “Different. From the others.”
“Albus, I am here to do my job.”, he said calm.
“Tz.”
“And it is on me to pick my methods, not on you, not on Minerva, not on anyone else. I can understand your wish to be treated like all others in class, and I shall grant you that wish. But that also means you will have to comply if I tell you something. You must equally be a student. Don’t, and I assure you, your very first detention will show you what it means to be equal. Don’t demand if you cannot take. Remember that.”
“Remember.”, he chuckled flatly. “As if I wouldn’t. But that’s the problem. I remember. Nobody else does. Not even Scorpius. And it makes me mad that I don’t know if he really just doesn’t remember, or if Luna made it so he doesn’t. Personally, if it’s the second, he’d be the only one I’m not jealous of. Apart from you of course.”
“Why are you jealous?”
“Because, for some reason, she spared me the luxury of not remembering!”, furious, he lastly turned his head at him. “I have to live with what happened! Every time I look at Scorpius, I know what has happened to him. What I hate even more is that I’m old enough to understand what that means. If it really was Luna to have cut his last string of access to those memories – he’s blessed. He will never remember. But I will, and it makes me mad. Mad that not only do I remember everything, but that nobody wants me to be able to forget anything. Especially seeing as it’s Luna.”
“What do you remember, Albus.”, still utterly calm, he raised and approached the boy, slow and careful, but not curious.
“Everything.”, he now cried quietly. “And I hate that. Every time somebody’s like – oh sorry, I forgot – I’m like – lucky bastard – and I’m scared.”
“There is no need for you to be scared of that.”, his hand gently laid down on the boy’s left shoulder.
“But I don’t want that! I want to learn things! Remember things! But not – not – everything! I look up to you, yeah, but I don’t wanna be like you! I – I don’t want that burden – ”
“Who says it is a burden?”
“I say. And I’m scared. That one day, my head will just explode from it all. There’s too much in it already. All I want is to be able to truthfully say that I forgot something.”
“You will forget things, Albus. Trust me. You will, in your very own way.”, he looked back up at him. “Your brain will learn to distinguish. The key is to focus and sort your thoughts. Of course it is harder when things happened that trouble you. But you will learn to sort your thoughts and memories and recall them when needed. You will learn to tame them so they don’t drown you.”
“But I’ll still never forget.”
“And you don’t need to.”, with another sigh, he pulled the boy to his chest, held him tight but not too much, whispering then. “Sh. I’m no’ sayin’ I wan’ ye ter become like me. I dun’ wan’ anyone ter become like me. Bu’ ye wun’.”
“How can you say.”
“Because, no matter wha’ ev’ryone thinks; wha’ Hermione thinks; even yer father isn’ entirely like me. Nobody is exac’ly like anuther. Tha’s wha’ makes me ’ave faith tha’ ye wun’ ’ave ter become like me. No’ necessarily.”
“Sometimes I regret it.”
“Wha’ d’ye regre’.”
“Dad told me, I have a choice. That the hat takes it into account. And he did. I was torn so much, thought of it so much, hoped it would be possible for me to influence his decision. And Dad said I can. But when I had the choice, when the moment had come – it still feels like I rushed the decision. Sure, it was the last possible moment, but it feels like I decided my fate.”
“’Course ye did. Ye made yer firs’ life changin’ decision an’ such are never easy. Ye will wonder all yer life, if it was tha righ’ choice. Life is nut’in’ bu’ a big pile o’ choices ’owever. Cause an’ effec’. Ye will doub’, no question. Bu’ ye canno’ change it anymore. Ye’ll ’ave ter look forward.”
“But I regret it already.”
“An’ why d’ye regre’?”
“It feels like – you know, I’m alone.”
“Ye’re no’. Also wha’ makes ye think, ye wouldn’ be tha same in anuther ’Ouse?”
“I know. And back home, I was also mostly alone. But I wanted that. Now there’s so many people who could care to spend time with me, but I’m still alone. Worse, I don’t know how I should talk to them so they don’t think I just want attention. And I desperately want to know what it’s like to wake up in a tower, and look over the lake.”
“Grab yer beddin’ an’ sleep in any o’ tha towers. ’S tha’ easy.”
“Don’t make fun of me.”
“I dun’. Bu’ ’ave ye seen a sunrise through tha lake already?”, he received no answer. “Though’ so. Now come. I’d like ter show ye sum’thin’. Ye’re no’ alone down ’ere.”
Carefully letting go but not fully, he lead the boy over, to the window behind his desk, ignoring his colleague’s pondering stare that followed them and that the man even stood up to see why he sat down on the floor, in the window’s little alcove, barely fitting in the arch. His arm stretched out, with a nod, he signalled Albus that he should join him. Reluctantly but regardless, he too sat down on the cold stone, onto his own uniform cloak, sideways between his grandfather’s bent knees. Curious, he looked at his left hand while the right was back on his shoulder. It laid flat but gentle against the old window, before it, nothing but dark endlessness. He could have sworn however, that the window had trembled.
“What was that?”, he gasped quietly.
“Wai’.”
“What am I waiting for?”
But there it already was. A few bubbles from the deep and a swarm of fleeing Grindylows. Then, two big suckers, only two of many, suddenly bumped against the window, right where Severus’ hand was. Awestruck, the boy studied the convolvine tentacle, the suckers apparently being ones of the smallest, at its tip. Then already, filling up the entire window space, the reddish white head appeared, its golden eye as big as a human head. Like a whip, something else flapped between and was gone again from sight.
“What’s – does it have – antlers?”
“No. Tha’ was one o’ ’is two tentacles. ’Ey go’ fin like ends. Wha’ mos’ people call tentacles, is actually ’eir legs.”
“Oh. But does it feel your hand?”
“Wanna try?”, very hesitant, holding on to Severus’ knee, Albus placed his right hand next to his and immediately another sucker touched the window.
“Whow! He’s – pumping! I can just feel it! It’s like he’s – he’s saying hello – did he just blink thrice?”, the – actual tentacle was back with a flick, knocking on the glass five times, then it brushed past and disappeared again.
“Oh ’e is sayin’ ’ello, yes. ’E wan’s ter know why ye ignored ’im ev’ry time ’e tried ter gain yer attention at tha common room window. All yer classma’es ran over, bu’ ye din’, while e’ wanned ter talk ter ye’.”
“How can you – ”
“I learned ter read ’is language. Took me many years, bu’ he’s nice ter swim wi’.”
“You swam with him? You never said! He blinked again – what’s that mean? Wait – no – ”, the suckers loosened and slowly but gently, the squid dove off.
“See? Ye’re no’ alone.”, like before, he pulled the disappointed boy to his chest, stroking his head. “Those who really wan’ ter be yer friends, will come ter ye. It’s no’ quantity wha’ matters, if tha frien’ship isn’ real. Now.”, he patted his shoulder shortly, “Bedtime.”
“Okay,”, Albus slowly stood up.
“In yer bed, no’ in mine.”, he had interpreted the look at the shelf door right. “Maybe anuther nigh’, bu’ no ternigh’. Lemme come back firs’, before we decide if I call ’is place a ’ome again.”, he too raised and accompanied his grandson to the door, where Albus turned to him once more.
“Thanks.”, he breathed.
“Any time, an’ ye know tha’.”
“But I hope you know I’m not as curious.”
“As ter wha’?”
“Cut a hole in the ice and go swimming with the squid. Well, not yet.”, that charmed a scarce smile on Severus’ face, and eventually, on the Albus’ as well.
“G’nigh’,”, he sighed, thoughtfully brushing a loose strand of the chin long bushy waves behind his ear, where it stayed without complaint. “Me lil emerald.”
“I’m not sure if I wanna let it grow more, or if I’ll have a cut. Maybe I’ll even go for a Mohawk. I vaguely remember Dad having had it like that, when I was little. But it’ll have to wait till Christmas. I’m not letting anyone but Mum cut my hair.”
“Yer ’air is yer own. Dun’ le’ anyone decide fer yerself wha’ ter do wit’ it. Le’ ’em say wha’ ’ey wan’ an’ smile.”
“Alright. ’Night, Grandpa.”, the door opened for him on his wish.
“Good nigh’.”
“Good night, Professor Cluttertoil.”
But he was gone before the man could return the wish and the door was shut again, the moment the fire in the chimney flared up. Frowning at the flames, he didn’t even notice Severus walked towards them, until he blocked his view like a slim but still powerful shadow.
“I’m not exactly sure, maybe I missed it, but did you open and close the door for him or did – ”
“He did that himself.”
“The fire? Was that – that was also him, wasn’t it?”
“Yes. You see, as much as he said he doesn’t want to become like me, as much he has ever striven for just that. He is interestingly wise. When he understood how much he was alike me, he knew he would become even more like me when he would grow older. It troubled him, and still does, but he also finds it exciting. Knowing what he himself might potentially end up becoming. He wants to be prepared. He wants to learn to cope with things before he has experienced them. It pains me, in times, as I find myself in this very aspect as well. While I wanted to not be like my parents, I openly, and in some matters, secretly admired them. I wanted to be as capable of coping with life. Of course I learned it the hard way. A very hard way, I must say. A struggle, from what I know, has been passed down in all branches of my family for centuries. Not only my family, that much I know for certain, but I gave up breaking what I believed to be a curse and started to embrace it. Very slowly, but steadily.”
“Hm. But he’s right about Draco, you know? He’s encapsulating himself, and I’m not quite sure if he’s still alive. Mentally, I mean. He’s as absent as Cuthbert already and it doesn’t help that he still goes home on weekends.”
“You cannot blame him for wanting to spend time with his wife.”
“Does he want? I’m not so sure. Saturday of the first week of term, she’s sent him a howler. Ever since that, he hasn’t spent a single weekend at Hogwarts.”
“I don’t need you to remind me of their complicated relationship. I’m very familiar with it. But it is his life and he has chosen it. I will not intervene everywhere. In the end, it would only make people believe there isn’t a single problem they cannot solve without me. And don’t think I don’t know why you’re actually here. It is a little late for deciding differently. If you wanted to see him burn on the stake, you shouldn’t have yelled at me and run away.”
“I – I merely – wanted to know why you felt so responsible. Has he – ”
“No, he hasn’t done anything to me. I’d like to go as far as to claim that he was too scared of me. I have other personal reasons, and as you might hopefully still remember, I regret that I waited so long. Now, unless there’s anything else you need from me, I’d like to go to bed. It was a long day.”
“Fine.”, Herbert sighed and marched towards the door. “It’s not like there won’t be more chances for us to talk. Good night.”, he must have expected to be literally thrown out, as he startled when the door wasn’t opened magically for him.
“I assume my capability of helping you. As I said, I know many things, but fortunately not what that is like. At least not in that scale or way. But I can arrange a meeting with the right people.”
“Not in that scale or way.”, Herbert huffed at the wood before him. “Have you or have you not.”
“That depends very much on the point of view, doesn’t it?”
“Yeah. It always does, doesn’t it? With everything, right?”
“Allegedly,”
“There’s no dependence. Either you’ve been raped or you haven’t been. The last it depends on is the person who did it. No matter if they remember or not or if they intended or not. There is no having kinda been trapped and locked in by him for having kinda gotten raped. Only yes or no. Everything else from a victim is just Stockholm syndrome. And don’t think I haven’t seen the look on your face when you were the only one in the meeting who refused to grab a lemon drop from the bowl Minerva handed around. I heard the stories of the things Dumbledore used to mix in those he gave his guests so they’d do his bidding or tell him what he wanted to know. You don’t need to say. Remus had been my friend too. Up until a certain point at least. Don’t tell me he hadn’t had a choice.”
With another huff, he tore the door open, but decided to not slam it shut. Sighing equally exhausted, killing the fire as he walked off, Severus then pulled the fake book to open the secret door. The chandelier inside lit itself when the candles on the other went out and with a subtle click, both doors locked themselves.
~~#~~
Sizzling white gems rushed over the mirror, polished it. Clad in similar white, all the hills stood silent, bearing the harsh cold of the clouds’ breath. The night had shaped tiny spikes between the pebbles as the loch had frozen at last. Or at least as far as her sight could pierce through the veil. The fire crackling at her side, she had drawn the pelt on her shoulders closer. Not fully bothering her stare out of the window, her sister sat in the armchair like usual, legs on the worn down ottoman and knitted until her fingers bled.
“I really don’t get what he’s here for.”, she sighed at the sound of the flushing toilet upstairs. “He comes by, doesn’t say a word, uses our bathroom,”
“Wait for when he comes back down. Let him deal with his human needs before he deals with the unearthly. Also I don’t know what you are complaining about. Ever since Draco moved out, it has been just us. No Teddy, no Scorpius, no nothing. I honestly don’t mind another face in this empty house.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”, she lowered her knitting with a frown. “Are you sick of living with me? Then for god’s sake, go. I’m not stopping you.”
“That is not what I meant. And anyway, why is it you who is upset about his visit? If any, it should be me, as he – ”
“You are aware though that I could hear every word?”, he appeared on the lower end of the staircase. “And who cares why I’m here. I’m not here to recruit you.”
“Why would either of us think that?”, very stiff, Narcissa had spun to face him.
“Ask your sister, Narcissa. She thinks I am.”, failing the protest, Andromeda’s mouth only opened and closed at his look.
“Then why are you here.”
“Because, as safe as you two are here, there are scheming people crawling around in the Ministry. People who want to weaken my authority and myself.”
“But why does that have anything to do with us?”, frowned Narcissa.
“Romy was once a member of the Order. And you are the mother of someone I once had a crush on. Yes, his and my life may have drifted apart, even further than they had been when we’d still been students, but that stops nobody from believing I still care for Draco. Or you two. As I do. That fact alone brings you in danger. I’m not asking you to help me defeat Walpurgis. I’m here to warn you of her and her followers.”
“Her. Is it certain now, that Walpurgis is a woman?”
“As of now, it looks like it. We have enough information that leads us to the conclusion, yes.”
“Then she shall drop dead. That is the best you can hope for. If a man strives for world domination, he can be fought. He can be beaten and replaced, by either side. But if a woman strives for world domination, she will enslave all and they will believe they are doing it willingly. And nobody will dare to oppose her. Such women are Harpies clad in a Valkyrie’s armour. If you are right, and Walpurgis is a woman, you cannot win. Of course, if you could, it would be an ultimate victory, as her followers would rather go to death than change their allegiance,”
“They have proven so, yes,”, Harry confirmed.
“But I’m afraid you will never be able to win. You will never break her spirit. You will have to kill her and I know you don’t kill. Yes, I know what you will reply now.”, she stopped him before he could do so. “You have people who will do that for you. But they are men. There is one thing you need to understand about women in leading positions, Harry Potter. If they are slain, more women will rise up to avenge her. It is a Hydra. Ask your father. He has already acknowledged this. Cut her tails and legs first. But do not dare and oppose her. You can slaughter her followers all you want. But if you, a man, strikes her down, you will have a world war. Men can fight wars. And they are disgusting and leave a painful wound in history. Women on the other hand, will stick their hands into that wound and tear the entire world apart, if you give them any reason. You cannot oppose Walpurgis. Especially not in this century.”
“Then it is clear, isn’t it?”
“Yes. And you are looking at the wrong woman. I am not fighting that Harpy. But thank you for the warning. Send my greetings to Draco and Scorpius, when you hold your next lectures. Unless you decided not to talk to them anymore, like your son.”
“Or you.”, Harry noted under his breath. “I’m not him, and he’ll come round. There’s still much he has to learn. Especially that the tendency to stubbornness in other people can be equally strong as the one in himself.”
~~#~~
December had come more silent than November had and people were back to their usual routine. Nearly every morning, students and teachers would get up, have breakfast together, somewhat, and then spend their days in classrooms, frustrating themselves and everyone else, blaming each other mutually for their plight. Just like everyone else, in the streets, in shops, in offices. And somewhere in between, they tried to act polite. As polite as she did, when dismissing his offer to take one of the biscuits from the metal box on her desk. She admitted, they looked delicious. Flat and round white bits with chocolate chips in the dough, a dot of red jam in the middle topped with an almond slice, but she had had so much for breakfast, she couldn’t even get tea down her throat. Also she was certain, the jam was currant.
“I didn’t make them,”, he chuckled, “So I wouldn’t know what they taste like. I merely delivered them for him.”
“And I appreciate the thought that he sends someone, especially, the Head of another department, as he is clearly too busy to show up personally. But not right now. Maybe later.”
“Why not now?”, another man had entered her office, a similar box in his hands. “Oh yeah, I know why. They’re not yours.”
“I’m sorry, Harry?”, she frowned over her desk, forced to watch him put the other metal box down and lift its lid. “What are you – hold on a second. These are – ”, they clearly smelled like cinnamon and apple, were plain, much darker than the ones in her box and she instantly associated them with a cosy bed of blankets by the frozen Black Lake.
“Well, Mr Postman.”, Harry turned around and reached under both of Deverick’s forearms, holding them gently. “Mediocre job on the delivery. You swapped the boxes.”
“I did not.”
“Oh of course you did. Now look.”, he pulled back his hands, laid his left on the slightly taller man’s shoulder and signalled him with the right, very invitingly, to examine the boxes’ content. “Strictly speaking, it doesn’t matter. But historically speaking, the biscuits you delivered to Hermione, are mine, and the other way round.”
“He’s – ”, Hermione started but his very distinct glare instantly silenced her, utterly confused what all that was about.
“Now from what I see,”, Deverick chuckled, “The biscuits I delivered to Mrs Weasley, look a little more extravagant. Elegant. More suiting a woman of her calibre. And knowing you, I believed you would favour the simple ones. Your father didn’t tell me which he meant for whom. I merely assumed and I am very sorry for the confusion.”
“Now are you. Hmm. Well then, maybe I should give it a go. After all, my father wouldn’t bake anything he couldn’t check for its taste.”, something clicked in her head, something she had learned about Severus and his mother, that either had known to cook by simply comparing looks, smell and consistency to be able to tell if others would like the meal. “Or what do you think?”, Harry let go of him and stuck his hands into the front pockets of his dark emerald robe, now pacing leisurely between Deverick and the desk.
“Why does it matter what I think about biscuits?”
“Well, it mattered much earlier, as you stated. You did give these biscuits a fair bit of thought, as you just said. Maybe I should,”, he retrieved his hands again and quickly snatched a biscuit from each box. “Try both? Oh wait – I have a better idea.”, like a preaching pastor he held both palms up, a biscuit floating above each, eyes travelling between the two and Deverick. “Maybe you should. After all, then you can say for sure; confirm one more criteria to say exactly, which biscuits are whose. What do you say? Plain?”, it started spinning on its own above his palm, “Or extravagant?”, so did the other.
“I – well – I don’t think he meant anyone but the two of you to have them, really.”, something in his look worried Hermione.
“Well then,”, Harry shrugged casually, closed his thumbs and index fingers on both biscuits and stuck them in his mouth, together.
“Harry what – ”
“Mmmmmh!”, he moaned, nodding in a very exaggerating way as he munched with a lot of artificial force, then shook his head as if in disbelief and the other man’s discomfort was almost graspable. “Really.”, Harry swallowed the mass of dough. “That is one combination. You’re right. It doesn’t matter who eats which.”, Hermione watched him walk back over with much interest and he came to halt very close, continuing in a whisper. “Want to know why?”, he playfully eyed the stiffened man from below. “Because the Bishop just beheaded the Knight. Check.”
With a very hectic sigh, Deverick’s unease broke free at last. But still Hermione was confused. Of course she understood that both men believed something should have been wrong with the biscuits, but seeing as Harry hadn’t dropped dead yet, she was insanely curious as to what was actually going on.
“Really.”, Harry too sighed, eyes on the floor as he turned off again. “Trying to poison Hermione in her own office. Making it look like Dad wanted her away. While we all know he would never kill her. Especially not now. I’m really interested in the story of his reason you would have come up with. No,”, he stopped him as he meant to say something, “I actually don’t want to hear. It doesn’t matter anyway. And that doesn’t either.”
What didn’t, was very clear. At first it had looked like Deverick had scratched his left wrist, but the more frantic fumbling made something dawn on her. Then already, Harry pulled a long ornamented wand of light wood from his own right sleeve, childishly presenting it to both of them. Hermione understood first, which made her laugh. His whole show, of taking the other’s arms, had only been a very clever way of disarming the fool.
“Uh,”, Harry backed away when Deverick meant to reach out for it, but he was also stopped by an invisible shield. “Honestly. How stupid do you think I am.”, with an odd crunching sound, he stuck the wand straight into the box of plain cinnamon biscuits, probably impaling four or five of them in the process. “Also, did you really think, I hadn’t asked my dad to not put all of them in?”
Very casually, like before, he put his hands in his pockets and pulled out another of each biscuit, presenting them, before he placed them neatly on the desk as if for display and Hermione actually clapped a hand on her mouth to prevent another laugh. The annoyed grimace of the ginger man, clearly boiling under his clothes and ponytail, as the redness of his face told her, was actually very amusing, in spite of the seriousness of the situation. She had just escaped death because she had refused to try a biscuit and if she was totally honest, it had been Harry who had eventually saved her life. Admittedly, she had been close to take one just to shut the man up.
“You planned that.”, he grumbled. “Both of you.”
“Of course I planned that!”, Harry laughed dark. “Dad doesn’t randomly bake for the two of us, three weeks before Christmas. And then give the stuff to you for delivering. The bait was so obvious that you missed it and suddenly, you were hooked. Which actually makes me sad, because I hoped you were cleverer than that.”
“And it makes me sad that you were right, once again.”
“Now of course it does, Hermione!”
“Yes, yes. I just meant, that – ”
“You still think I’m paranoid. But I’m not. As I’ve just proven to you. And rather like you,”, he slowly turned and leaned himself onto the desk, his hands by the edge, “I didn’t hold him at formal distance, but crawled up his bum, trying to find out if I could look all the way through his intestines, into his well shielded brain from below. And then I built a trap. That, Hermione, quite frankly, is why I am the Auror and you are the lawyer. We both believe in the good in people. But I know when to stop believing. To be honest, I knew where his allegiance lied, the moment he walked into my office the very first time.”
Startling her but not Harry, Deverick met with another shield, as he had meant to sneak out. His face still on her, Harry rolled his eyes before he lowered and shook his head.
“Seriously? Nice try, but – ”, he raised with a sigh and turned again, “There is only three ways you can leave this room. And each will have to have my blessing. One, I call Alastor Moody in and he will take you away. Which is bad. Because then you will end up as dog food. You will be gone, and they will replace you. Bad for both of us. Two, I call in Inama Massad. She will take you straight to the courtrooms, where Kingsley is waiting to speak a sentence. Likely you will end up in Azkaban. Bad for you, as I don’t reckon you will find a way to escape. Also nobody will rescue you. They will replace you and, if you should ever get out, kill you for having been caught. You know that as much as I do. Again, bad for both of us. But number three, oh yes. Number three is a splendid one.”
“What is number three.”, Deverick growled.
“Number three, you will take my hand gladly and from this day on, work for me. In number three, Hermione will pull her wand to seal our contract. You will merely need to be careful what information you pass on to others, in what ever way. Otherwise,”, he shrugged, “You’re a free man! You keep your job, your wand, your life! Good for you, and for me! Think about it. Just, think about it. Savour it slowly.”
“So you want me to be your slave.”
“Oh, no. You don’t need to do anything for me. You can live on like you had. Only that you, well, have to be slightly cautious. Or you’ll die. But that’s life, isn’t it? Stop being cautious and Death will take you. Irchard. I know you’re not one of those runners-up. You are a true Knight. You like life. Your are worth more alive, for her, for us, and for yourself. I know you’re not ready to die yet.”, he gave him a few seconds to let the words sink in, but Deverick didn’t change his angered expression. “Come on, Hermione. Get out your wand. Our friend here has made a decision.”
Before she could even fully raise, a loud CRACK tore the air apart. It took her alarmed brain a few seconds to notice that, as the only of the three, Harry hadn’t winced at all. Apparently he was used to the noise so much already, that it couldn’t startle him anymore. Or had he expected it? Whom she hadn’t expected standing opposite to him in the strange circle now, holding the crooked Elf’s bony hand, unearthly in a soft lilac dress and her hair shining ghostly in the office’s magical ambient light, appearing like a goddess, was –
“Luna – ”, she breathed.
“Interesting.”, Luna only smiled, her lips slightly gaped, looking around. “Kreacher suddenly appeared in our house, telling me to come with him. This is an interesting situation, I believe,”
“Mildly said,”, Hermione muttered hesitantly, more confused than in all the minutes before.
“I think you can gladly leave, Kreacher. Thank you.”, said Luna softly, letting go of his hand, and so he did, upon a faint nod from Harry, thrashing their ears once more.
“And he was just there?”, wanted Harry to know.
“Yes!”, she said definite but it sounded mysterious, coming from her, like all of her words ever did.
“Harry?”, Hermione wondered why he turned his head to the wall by the door and then back at her.
“I don’t know, but I think, you just said something, someone wants you to phrase differently.”, as confused as Hermione, Deverick’s eyes flicked between the two and Harry nodded again, with an almost satisfied smile.
“Very well, our friend here, has made a decision. Get out your wand, Luna.”
“What?”, gasped Hermione.
“That, wasn’t my idea.”, he shrugged, with his eyebrows only. “But he might be right. It’s all about phrasing. And we can’t have a loophole. Do you know what we’re about to do?”
“Give me just four and a half seconds, please.”
Not only Hermione crossed her arms when Luna reached over and took the quill from the desk. Ink dripping on her dress, she held it flatly to her left ear that was slightly covered by her hair, eyes closed. Fascinated, Hermione watched the drops vanish the moment they hit the fabric. Something told her it was exactly three and a half seconds later when Luna put the quill back and straightened, which took her half a second.
“Good. Mr Deverick, you may loosen your arms. After all, for this, you need to hold Harry’s hand and he needs to hold yours.”
“Did she just – ”, but Harry silenced her again with a simple gesture. “Picking up spiders.”, she grumbled to herself. “I hate you, Ginny.”
“Oh I know you cannot understand what I just did, Hermione. It seems illogical to you, even though you know the theory.”
“Which is?”
“Everything has a memory.”, Luna meant. “You can hear every story if you just dare to listen.”
“Okay, I’ll listen to my quill next time I need to reflect on what just happened.”
“As I said. You don’t understand, although you know the theory.”
“Ev- oh my god – ”, aspirating, her arms dropped on the memory of her own recital in the Headmaster office, so many years ago, coming back to her.
“Everything is solely made of energy.”, Harry grunted what she wanted to say. “Don’t give me that look. You’d strangle yourself if I confessed when he had already said that to me. I may give you a hint however. It was months before you decided to cry your eyes out in an abandoned tower.”
“What?”
“How many times do I have to tell you. But now’s not the time to relish in your misery. Luna,”
She had already moved closer, her wand slightly held out, in an odd but elegant way and Harry offered Deverick his right hand. Very reluctantly the man accepted. Hermione had only read about it, but actually seeing it performed, brushed away all her anger. There was one thing however, she wondered.
“Isn’t the Bonder supposed to only bind? Not speak the conditions of the Vow?”
“No, it doesn’t matter.”, said Harry. “As long as it isn’t the one who is to fulfil the conditions, to voice them.”
“I didn’t know that.”
“But now you do.”, eager, she watched the tip of Luna’s wand lie down on the merged hands.
“Will you,”, she raised her eerie, dreamy voice again, “Irchard Deverick, from this minute forth, protect everyone Harry Potter deems protect-worthy, from all harm you can honestly prevent them to experience?”, reluctantly but still, he answered.
“I will.”, a string of fire shot flaring from the tip of her wand, winding itself around the hands.
“And will you, design your words, thoughts and gestures of any kind possible, in a way no even slight ally or servant of Walpurgis or herself can vaguely guess you are no longer serving their cause?”, the pause was even longer now, but he understood there was no escape.
“I will.”, equally gleaming, a second string of fire erupted.
“And will you provide Harry Potter and those he considers trustworthy, with all requested information possible for you to obtain and beyond to ensure flawless implementation of the previous?”
“I will.”, the third flame joined the rollercoaster ride, all of them closing in, and Hermione saw that Harry already wanted to let go.
“And, will you,”, now all three heads zoomed at hers, knowing the Vow usually consisted of three conditions, “Should there be a showdown, or when all Knights, Bishops, Towers, Pawns, and the Queen herself have lastly fallen, in accordance of your philosophy, release the remaining grains of dust from their duty and be the King who checkmates himself? Will you lead the sheep to the altar for sacrifice?”, not only his lips were trembling and he swallowed heavily.
“I – will.”
A fourth rope of fire knotted them all and burnt them into their skin and beyond. Puffing with disgust, Deverick withdrew his hand. Hermione could only see Harry’s single nod, not his expression.
“Go,”, he said calm, bewildering the other man. “You heard me. You may go.”, the door opened itself for him and he stepped backwards, unsure, but steady. “No – er – wait – just a second.”, anticipating what more he wanted, Hermione watched Harry come towards her again. “Can’t have you forget that, can I?”, with a malevolent smile he withdrew the fair wand from the cinnamon biscuits, walked back over, snatched the seam of Deverick’s robe and wiped the wand clean with it before he handed it back. “There. Now you can go.”
Dropping a disgusted grunt, he spun on the spot and hurried out, not without faltering in the door for a second. But then he was gone down the corridor. In peeked, on the left, Harry’s deputy Inama and on the right, an amused seeming rough sculpture of an old man’s face, both the normal and the big electric blue eye scanning the office with a very deformed smirk below.
“Luna!”, Inama gasped and they both walked inside; the door fell shut behind them on a snap of Harry’s fingers and she felt them absorbed by the shields he had created to make the room bugproof, apparently without her previous notice as well. “So that’s why you sent a Phoenix message?”, she now stared at Alastor, but he only leant onto his gnarly walking stick, clearly satisfied.
“So?”, he growled. “Looks like he took the bait, eh?”
“Of course he did.”, meant Harry, but there was knocking on the door.
“Ha!”, laughed Alastor, his magical eye fully turned to the inside of his head. “Seems, the gatecrasher got notified. Should’ve known the Elf would tell ’im,”
“The who?”, asked Inama, but Harry had opened the door again. “Oh.”
“You’re late for the party, boy.”, Alastor chuckled, but stepped aside to let him into what now really was a circle and again the door closed when Severus walked through the invisible barrier he had been granted entry to. “It’s Saturday, past twelve. You can’t take students as your excuse. I know you weren’t at Hogwarts. No, don’t say. I don’t wanna hear – how you – nailed it – this time.”
“Dùin do chab.”, she had no idea what that meant, but from Harry’s snicker she could tell it wasn’t very profound. “So? Would ye enlighten me now why Kreacher nearly go’ a hear’ attack an’ refused ter brin’ me ’ere ’imself?”, Alastor escaped a roaring laugh.
“So you did!”
“I don’t think so.”, Harry smirked. “He’s looking pretty curried to me,”
“Ye go’ no idea ’ow fas’ I can be,”
“Certainly.”
“An’ mos’ ’specially, why I ’ad ter bake a crap ton o’ biscuits? Or why Deverick seems ter be in a real ’urry?”
“Is he in a hurry?”, Luna asked as if she sincerely wondered. “Yes, why indeed?”
“Why indeed?”, Hermione shrieked. “Oh I don’t know; I think everyone would be in a hurry if someone just made them swear in the course of an Unbreakable Vow that they’re to commit mass murder and suicide, should their initial mission fail but the new one be fulfilled! Honestly, why was that necessary? Why did you do that?”
“I think,”, considered Harry, “She did that, simply because she could.”
“Oh no, no.”, Luna clarified, her usual smile back, and seriously troubling Hermione in the particular case. “I did that because, as you said yourself, we cannot have a loophole. This is a new war, and now, it is our turn. We have to implement what we learned.”
“Well?”
“Well, Dad,”, Harry held up his hand, showing him the back of it that now bore very faint lines where the Vow had melted in, “Now, we have a mole.”
Clearly putting piece after piece together, Severus crossed his arms with a chuckle that merged into a satisfied, almost proud sneer. But not all understood as quickly as he did.
“Wait what?”, asked Inama. “I thought you wanted to make him give himself away? So we have enough proof to capture him?”
“Oh he did,”, Harry’s hands slid down into his robe’s pockets like before. “But I also managed to capture him in a way he’s still of use. For everyone. Mostly for us, actually.”
“You tricked him! How!”
“With Muggle magic.”, aspirated Hermione.
“Muggle magic?”, Inama was even more curious now.
“The art of illusion.”, smiled Alastor. “And very effective persuasion.”
“I still don’t fully understand how you managed to disarm him without his notice. Or mine.”, Hermione said.
“Well, look at my sleeves.”, Harry meant, raising both hands again. “Look close.”, very slow, he pulled out his wand from the left, leaving no noticeable change to it. “Very close, yes.”, he stuck it back in, but still she saw no change. “I wear a shirt under my robe. The sleeves are slightly wider than those of my robe, except for the buttoned seam. It stays perfectly in place there, between the wrinkles, cushioned, unseen and safe. The tight sleeve of the robe holds it all together. Did you see his sleeves?”
“No.”, she shook her head in addition. “I didn’t really pay attention to his sleeves.”
“Well, they were slightly wider and he didn’t wear a shirt. But still he too keeps his wand hidden in there. But how?”
“A bracer, I assume?”
“Assumed correctly. Most bracers have the shaft sewn to a sturdy, lined leather piece. So does his. That is why nobody could do the same on my arms right now. I would feel it, but he couldn’t. Remember how I held his forearms?”
“Yes.”
“How did I let go?”
“You brushed your hands over them and in the course you pulled out his wand. But still! How! Even if he didn’t feel it, how did neither of us notice otherwise!”
“What did I do then?”, Harry grinned. “What did you see me do?”
“I – I don’t know – I only looked at your heads – ”
“Exactly! There you got it! I was using my body language, to focus you on my head. And I laid my other hand on his shoulder, remember?”, thinking thoroughly, she had to admit he had done so. “Well, yes. By that, I distracted his body from any touch he had felt just seconds before, certainly and possibly. And I directed the attention of both of you away from my right hand that pushed his wand up my sleeve. To be fair, I didn’t even put much effort into it. You’re right. I didn’t need proper magic to disarm him. And I already demonstrated the solution to the harmless biscuits.”
“Yes.”, again, Hermione shook her head, but this time with amazement. “How poisoned are they?”
“So poisoned I’d say, don’t risk it for the biscuit. You shouldn’t touch them at all.”
“But you did touch – ”
“Hermione. I didn’t touch the light ones. I touched the ones he gave me. I told dad explicitly to pick identical boxes and tell him whom to give which box, without presenting the content to him. Why?”
“Why indeed.”, Severus said.
“Mainly because I was curious. I said the truth. It didn’t matter who got which. He would only poison the ones he would give to you, Hermione. I mean, by now, they all know I test all food that doesn’t come directly from people I trust.”, that cost Alastor a faint chuckle. “So it would have been useless and he would have unnecessarily revealed himself. Had he not confused the boxes or made his own considerations? I’d have said something different to justify wanting to have him try them. Or, well, leading to me eating the ones I’d kept in my pockets. I wanted to know if he had done his research correctly. If he knew you hate currant jam. It seems, he didn’t.”
“And why did you want to know whether he found out something like this?”
“Because I wanted to know how hard it would be to convince him of taking the Vow.”
“Finding out that red currant jam is your favourite but that I detest it, would have told you?”
“It did tell me it would be easier.”, Harry smirked. “Because, if he had done such thorough research, it would have meant that he takes their cause insanely serious. That he is devoted. If that had been the case, it wouldn’t have been possible. He’d have rather died.”
“Devoted. What was Voldemort’s favourite jam?”, she asked Severus, jokingly. “Given that he had any – ”
Though Severus didn’t answer. His smile was gone, sooner than he was, back out, without closing the door. All she could do was frown at the corridor wall, her crossed arms resting on her already distinct belly. The moment she wanted to state that Severus probably hadn’t managed to find that out, Harry left as well. Not knowing what else to do, Inama went with him. Alastor only took a deep breath.
“What was Voldemort’s favourite jam.”, Hermione gargled, at Luna’s blank face, but then she as well, in a fading rush of white fog, took the liberty of leaving.
“You should probably ask Kreacher.”, grumbled Alastor harsh, almost as if he tried to swallow his Scottish accent.
“Kreacher? But he doesn’t talk to – why would he know about it?”
“Shortly before his attack on Hogwarts, Voldemort visited the school. Early in the morning. When everyone was asleep. When he retrieved the Elder Wand. I don’t know why, but Severus believes that he simply wanted to think back on his time as a student. Wanted to return to where his actual life had started. Wanted to see the castle whole, one more time, as he knew his army would destroy it due to his attempt to eradicate everyone that was against him. Severus said he was different during those hours. Like an old man reflecting on his life. Becoming a child again. They had breakfast. Alone, in the Great Hall. Kreacher served them. Just breakfast. And then Voldemort left, with the Elder Wand. And nobody ever knew, until Severus told me. Years later.”
She didn’t know what to make of it. What to think of it. Unconscious, she stood there, her arms fallen slack. Kreacher knew. But she too knew, that she wouldn’t need to force it out of the poor Elf. She already knew Tom Riddle’s favourite jam. She had seen it. Once. Long ago. It had troubled her so much that she had suppressed the memory of it. Dismissed it as unreal. She had walked past Ginny who had sat on the lone corner table in the Gryffindor common room, writing into his old diary. Just a glimpse she had gotten on her question, if he knew what blood tasted like. Why ever she had asked that. But his answer had been, that to those who relished it, its taste was as sweet as that of –
“Currant.”
“Funny, isn’t it?”, Alastor chuckled dark. “As Luna would say. Sometimes the strangest things pass down in bloodlines, throughout many centuries.”
~~#~~