Weaselling In and Out.
Severus pulled his head out of the fire just in time to see a small brown weasel slinking towards the door. He pointed his wand and for a few brief moments considered using an Unforgivable Curse, but his years at the heels of Voldemort were no match for the person he was now. Besides, Severus was only too aware that the man could provide information if they found the right way to prise it out of him.
“Petrificus Totalus!”
Instantly the animal froze, falling onto its back as it lost all use of its limbs. For a moment Severus was at a loss what to do. The rooms echoed with the absence of their owner and he knew there was nothing he could do to restore her to her rightful place.
The distressed teacher was sitting on Maeve’s bed with his head in his hands when Professor Dumbledore strode into the room. The older wizard looked from his Potions master to the stiff weasel and knew instantly who it was.
“How on earth did Malachy Meany manage to get within the walls of the school?” he asked of no one in particular.
Severus raised his head. “Where is Maeve?” he asked bleakly. “I think that’s a more pertinent question, don’t you? And where are these damned Aurors who are supposed to be keeping guard over her?”
“That’s a very good question, Severus. A very good question indeed.” He pointed his wand at the weasel and, with a flash of blue and white, transformed the Animagus back to its usual form.
The tall, gaunt figure of Malachy Meany looked disgusted with them both. There was no fear on the Irishman’s face, just a sneer that seemed to be reserved especially for Severus. Dumbledore lost no time in firing thick, heavy ropes from the end of his wand to bind the man’s arms and legs tightly. He also moved quickly to secure Malachy’s wand, which had been sticking out slightly from his robes. These indignities were ignored though as Malachy’s eyes glinted in the candlelight and when he did speak it was to Severus.
“And how is the traitor today?” Malachy drawled, his accent thick with malice. “Still too cowardly to return to the dark side?” Severus was about to reply but Dumbledore cut him off.
“Where is your cousin, Mr Meany?” he asked calmly, as footsteps announced the arrival of reinforcements.
“I have no idea,” he said, glancing towards the door where the faces of Percy Weasley and the old Auror, Titus Snow, had appeared. Dumbledore had roused them both on his way to Maeve’s room and was pleased by their arrival.
“Percy, contact the Ministry and have them send up a few more Aurors. We will need more than Titus to take this particular prisoner down to London.”
“Of course, Professor.” Percy bobbed his head in assent and rushed off to obey the order. Titus Snow, meanwhile, was looking bewildered.
He gazed at the scene before him from beneath grey, bushy eyebrows and he knew someone was missing.
“Where’s Rampton?” he asked gruffly. “He switched shifts with me tonight, much against my better judgement. Said he had somewhere he wanted to be this afternoon.”
Dumbledore looked at him with an unfathomable expression on his face. It wavered between disappointment and acceptance and settled on neither. He sighed and turned to Severus, who was standing a foot away from Meany looking like he was about to kill him.
“If you don’t tell me where Maeve O’Malley is I won’t be answerable for my actions,” Severus said, his expression was a taut mask as he out-faced his opponent.
“I don’t know where the little bitch is but I’d like to get my hands on her,” Meany replied, looking away from the hateful stare. A hand shot out and held him by the throat, pinning him against the wall of the room. Severus exerted just enough pressure to bring a touch of fear to the other man’s eyes.
“Put him down, Severus,” Dumbledore said, intervening almost reluctantly. “He doesn’t know where she is. I don’t believe you were even here for her, were you?” he asked, turning now to Meany.
“Not now,” he answered. “There would have been time enough to take her in. We have the werewolf so she’ll soon follow.”
Meany looked alarmed at the harsh laugh that Severus gave and flicked his gaze to Dumbledore, who smiled benignly.
“You do not have Remus Lupin; your information is rather out-of-date. Remus Lupin was actually brought home yesterday by none other than Maeve herself,” Dumbledore informed him, with some satisfaction. “In fact, Severus, would you please give Remus a knock? I know it is rather late but I think he should be aware of the night’s events. I am surprised that he is not already awake.”
Severus gave a sickening grin. “Oh, I think you’ll find, Professor, that Mr Lupin has had a little too much to drink this evening. He came to my office a short while ago and harangued me for some time about his current state of mind. Perhaps he would be better left alone so that we can locate Maeve without his hindrance.”
“Very well, let him be for now,” Dumbledore said, showing no reaction to the news that Remus had been roaming the school while under the influence of alcohol. It didn’t matter overly much given the current situation.
“Do we have any idea where the young lady can have taken herself off to?” Titus asked as his agitation grew. He had expected this to be one of his last assignments before his retirement. Nothing would have given him greater pleasure than to get out of this school and do some proper work for a change.
“I don’t think it’s a question of her taking herself anywhere,” Severus snapped. “I rather think she has been taken, don’t you?”
“Well now, I don’t know about that,” Titus began as Severus rolled his eyes. “It strikes me she is a highly unstable woman at the best of times. She has already given me the slip once and it wouldn’t surprise me if this is just another of her strange meanderings.”
“She is not unstable,” Severus shouted, his frayed temper about to unravel completely. “She has clearly been taken by someone or something.”
“Now, that may not be the case,” Dumbledore said, playing peacemaker. “Hogwarts is protected from outside attack.”
“It didn’t damn well stop that thing getting in, did it?” Severus’ voice shot up an octave as his disgust with the whole lot of them spilled over. “She could be half-way to bloody Ireland by now… or even worse…”
They never found out what could be worse than Ireland though because at that moment a harassed-looking Maeve walked into the room. She had discarded her robe earlier and was now wearing a silk dressing gown over her whisper-thin slip. If she was embarrassed at being found in her nightclothes, and with nothing on her feet, she didn’t show it as she faced the four men with undisguised annoyance.
“What in Merlin’s name are you lot doing in my room?” she hissed. She turned her fierce eyes to Severus. “And why can I hear you shouting? You’re making enough noise to wake the dead. Honestly, I pop next door to check on Remus for two minutes and this happens.”
“I’m bloody shouting because we all thought you had been kidnapped…. or worse,” Severus said. His voice was still a little higher than it should have been but it was because of relief now, not anger.
“Ermm… that’s not strictly true,” Titus interjected. “I did mention the young lady might have wandered off of her own accord.”
“You called her deranged!” Severus roared.
“I don’t believe deranged was the word I used,” the old Auror replied hotly. “ I think I said…”
“Malachy?” Maeve interrupted their argument and walked towards the icy figure of her cousin. She took in the fact his hands and legs were bound and he was wandless. “What’s going on?”
“Ask your friends,” he said.
“Well?” she turned to Dumbledore expectantly.
“I’m afraid your cousin is not what he seems, Maeve.” Dumbledore wondered how much more bad news about her family she could take. “He is working for Lord Voldemort and has been spying on you and the castle.”
“Is this true?” She turned back to Malachy, knowing the answer. She was almost prepared for the undisguised venom in the man’s voice and the look of cool hatred in his eyes. When they had last met, on the stairs of Abbeylara, it had all been thinly hidden by a veneer of politeness but now it was boiling over.
“Look at you,” her cousin spat. “With your teaching post and your strange choice of friends. You always were a pain in the arse even when you were a girl. You knew everything, you charmed everyone…it was disgusting. All Niall ever wanted was money and a house but he had to put up with you and that whore of a mother of yours to get it.”
He barely flinched as Maeve grabbed her wand from her dressing gown. Its point was at his throat in seconds, adding a red mark to the livid nail prints left by Severus’ hands.
“Say one more thing about my mother, Malachy, and I’ll kill you now. Please, give me a good reason to do it and I will.”
“You and I both know you don’t have the guts,” Malachy croaked, the wand tip bobbing up and down as his throat moved. “You are too good. You simper and sweet-talk people…you couldn’t cast a killing curse.”
Maeve didn’t even know what she was doing as she spoke the first word of the curse.
“Avada…”
“No, Maeve,” Dumbledore said, his calm voice cutting through her loathing. “That will solve nothing. Let the Ministry deal with him.”
She stopped speaking but her wand was still pressing against Malachy’s windpipe, threatening his air supply. The moon-laden eyes looked into her own and she could see the darkness that had always lurked there clearly now.
“Liam always knew,” she said. “He always knew what you were. I wonder if he knew that the whole O’Malley family was rotten. Thank Merlin there is none of your blood flowing through my veins because I would have to bleed it all out. I couldn’t bear the impurity of it coursing through my body. It’s bad enough you are here, poisoning my rooms with your filth.”
“Maeve.” The word was soft in her ear and for a moment she didn’t recognise Severus’ voice. It sounded so unlike his normal cool tone. “Why don’t you come down to my rooms? You can sleep there tonight. It would be preferable to staying here with all this bad feeling in the air.”
“That won’t be necessary, Severus,” Dumbledore said. “If Maeve feels she would like another room for the night that can be arranged.”
“With respect, Headmaster, at least she would be watched properly in my rooms.”
Dumbledore seemed to think for a moment before nodding his agreement. He hadn’t wanted Maeve put under any pressure to remain in Severus’ presence if she didn’t want to but given their close contact yesterday he supposed she would welcome it now.
Maeve still hadn’t taken her eyes from Malachy Meany but she did allow her wand to drop.
“I hope you receive a proper trial,” she said in a sober voice. “And I hope you receive a suitable punishment for your actions, from whomever sees fit to mete it out.” She reached forward and tore up the left sleeve of his shadowy robes. The Dark Mark was there for all to see, a malicious black pattern against the whiteness of the man’s skin. Severus visibly flinched at the reminder of what he had been. Meany’s was far, far darker than his own but the fading didn’t ease the pain of the brand.
“How long?” she asked. No one really expected Meany to answer. His sullen face had a closed expression as his eyes bored into her.
“Always,” he hissed. “For as long as I can remember.”
“You fled when the Dark Lord was banished,” Snape said. “You did not spend time in Azkaban with his faithful.”
“There are better ways of showing your loyalty than sitting in a dark, dank hole where you can be of little use to anyone. The Dark Lord has always had a great following across the water and someone had to ensure when he finally did return he would have followers and the means with which to pulverise you fools.” There appeared, for a fleeting instant, a look of fanaticism in Meany’s milky eyes. “You were too weak to serve him properly; you are the same as her,” he nodded towards Maeve, “and him.” It was Dumbledore’s turn to be derided. “You won’t win. You can’t win. You have no idea of the scale of the plan that He is about to unleash on your piteous lives.”
A shadow at the doorway disturbed them. Remus had finally been roused from his stupor by the scuffles and shouts. Severus moved unnoticeably closer to Maeve, just stopping short of slipping a hand around her shoulders as he eyed his defeated rival.
“What’s happening?” Remus asked, taking in the scene before him with keen interest. He was the worse for wear but his years spent working for the Order had taught him how to rouse himself when the need presented itself.
“We have had a little trouble, Remus,” Dumbledore said. “Please don’t concern yourself. Go back to bed and rest, it’s under control.”
“Maeve?” He looked at her sandwiched between two black figures and his heart contracted painfully. She had come to him, hearing the growling of his pain as he slept. He had felt her soft hands soothing his brow as he tossed in his nightmares. But reality bites and Remus, more than anyone, was used to feeling its savage teeth.
“Go back to bed,” she said with a nod and it felt like a dismissal. “You are worn-out.”
Severus inhaled impatiently at the misconception but held his tongue. Whatever personal disdain he felt for Lupin he would not tell Maeve about the events in his office earlier or the fact that Lupin had been drunk.
Noises on the corridor turned everyone’s heads as three more people appeared in the room. Maeve recognised two of them as Tonks and Kingsley Shacklebolt but the third was a stranger to her. The invasion of her private space was now complete and she wanted more than anything to get away from it. She reached out her fingers to take Severus’ hand and he didn’t withdraw from the contact.
“I’ll take you up on the offer of a bed for the night,” she said, trying to smile but failing enormously. “This is giving me a headache.”
Severus sheltered her with his black presence as they moved through the onlookers. His fierce, hard face prevented anyone from questioning her throughout their walk to the outer office. Even Tonks, not normally one to pick up on an atmosphere, was silent as they made a funereal exit. Severus lifted her heavy cloak down and gently, almost reverentially, placed it around her thin shoulders. He felt it again, this penetrating need to help her. It tore at his resolve with the certainty of the lion that has the beast trapped within its jaws.
“Maeve.” Remus was the only one who spoke. He had followed them almost to the door.
She half-turned and in that movement, which was neither one thing nor another, he knew he had truly lost her. Maeve in turn recognised something in his body language that he could never have said in words. She knew, with a sudden flash of understanding, what he had been saying to her that evening and it saddened her even further.
“I’m so sorry, Remus,” she said in a whisper. Severus’ arm rested gently across the base of her spine, exerting no pressure yet providing strength beyond measure. “I’m so sorry your feelings changed. I didn’t mean for them to.”
Tonks stood in the background, her task for the evening forgotten as she took in Remus’ dejected form. She wished there were some way she could help him. It pained her to see that the feelings she had always suspected he might form for this strange, Irish witch had blossomed. And those feelings had been deadheaded by Maeve, who stood flaunting the love that Remus so desired. Tonks placed a hand on Remus’ arm but he shook it off, the look he gave her one of blank incomprehension. She concealed the hurt within herself as she returned to the bedroom to receive her instructions along with the other two Aurors. Tonks hid herself well within her work and tonight was no exception.
Severus led Maeve from her rooms and into the silent night of the castle. They moved downwards, away from the disquiet and unpleasantness towards a calmer place. Maeve never thought she would view Severus’ rooms as an oasis but now, as she slipped off her outdoor cloak and sat down on his well-made bed, she realised that’s exactly what it had become. The candles cast a warm light on the greenish walls and she tugged at the blankets to allow her grateful feet to dive beneath their comforting, male roughness.
Severus tried not to watch but he found his eyes irresistibly drawn towards her. How strange fate was, that it brought the object of his most perfect dreams and worst nightmares to his bed. He extinguished some of the candles before asking her, rather brusquely, if she needed anything else.
“Yes, just don’t let any students catch me leaving your room at eight in the morning. I don’t think I would ever live that down.” The dry humour was lost on Severus as he realised that was something he would have to think seriously about.
“I’ll sleep on the couch in the corner,” he informed her.
She looked at the uncomfortable looking, leather-upholstered bench and wondered how anyone could refer to it as a couch. It looked more like an element of torture than somewhere that you would turn to for comfort.
“Are you sure?” she asked doubtfully, but he had already taken off his robes and was making them into a pillow. His clothes, beneath his robes, were as dark and constrictive as his outer clothes. They wrapped him up in a shield against outside intrusion.
“Of course,” he replied tautly. He had slept in worse places than this. Who was he to complain?
“Well, if you are sure.” She pushed herself down into the warmth of the bed and blew out her candle. “Goodnight.”
“Goodnight, Maeve.” The words were spoken so quietly that the night air whipped them away almost before they reached her ears. She heard their faint echo as she let slip her grasp on consciousness.
Alice gazed at the face that hovered above her. If only she could understand the fear. It wasn’t that face but it was very like that face. She could feel the night air grasping at her lungs and her breathing became ragged. She needed her gum. Where was her gum? Her teeth ground together as she tried to chew on something that wasn’t there and the face above her smiled.
“Now, now, Aunt Alice.” The voice was familiar and yet unrecognised. Alice’s eyes swirled around in her head as she tried to make sense of things. Could that be Freddy’s young boy? “Are you after some of this?”
A hand appeared with a bright blue square clutched between the fingers. The wrapper was quickly removed and she felt the press of the gum against her lips. She accepted it gratefully as her teeth began to work at the sweet.
“I am sorry I never visited.” The voice was softer now, gentling the confused woman into acceptance of its presence by her bed. “I’ve been a bit busy what with one thing and another but I thought it was time I came.”
Alice chewed ferociously as memories confused her already damaged brain. Blue bubbles rose from her bed and Roderick glanced around quickly; worried they would be seen. The ward was silent except for the occasional snore and there were no healers in sight so he relaxed again.
“I found something tonight, something that connected us in a rather unpleasant way. I thought you knew about father but I wasn’t sure.” His face was a mask of forced charm. “I know you can’t do much damage, lying there in that bed. But what you wrote many years ago could cause me irreparable harm. My family doesn’t have much left but the one thing we do have is our name. You know what would happen if my father was exposed, don’t you?”
She watched the dust in the air as it passed over her bed. A sunlit lawn and the laughter of a young boy reached her ears from a time long past. A connection was made; bubbles flying through the air and the darkness of an opened cellar door.
“He was a weak man, Alice. He had no choice but to do what he did. It killed him in the end but you wouldn’t know about that. You where here when it happened. I don’t think he could face the same thing happening again, the rape of his land for the use of evil. You do understand, don’t you, Alice? You were like a mother to me towards the end and I’ll never forget the care you took of me.”
Her hand moved feebly on the bedclothes as she reached for something. It was a few moments before he realised she was reaching for his hands and he allowed them to be grasped. The cold, clammy touch of the half-dead woman repulsed him but he allowed the contact. He felt sorry that this was the fate that had been chosen for her but he could not stand the infirmity and longed to be out of the ward. He didn’t really know why he had come here. He was supposed to back at Hogwarts guarding Maeve. Not that she would be up to much tonight after her recent adventures.
“I came to tell you I was sorry. A silly impulse, I admit, but I am truly sorry for what happened to you. You tried to offer my father a way out and he didn’t take it. I’ve destroyed the diary because I couldn’t risk it being read by the wrong people. It wouldn’t have helped them anyway. The tunnels were destroyed and the land is owned by Muggles now so there is no chance of the plant being grown again.”
He felt her fingers relax in his and he slowly drew his hand away. Was that a smile that played on her lips in the half-light? Roderick didn’t allow himself the luxury of doubt. Lord Voldemort had told him personally that nothing would be done with the old land at Rampton Court and Roderick had believed him. But as he looked down at the tired face of the former Auror he had begun to wonder whether the Dark Lord had been speaking the truth. Roderick pushed the thoughts away. The Ramptons had been faithful servants and he hoped that this was Voldemort’s way of rewarding him. He had been treated well and had been allowed to continue with his Auror training. Voldemort had acted like an indulgent uncle in that respect; as long as Roderick passed him a few titbits of information now and again the situation was acceptable.
“I have to go,” he said, as he rose from the chair. “I have other work I should be attending to but, when I read those words, I had to come and see you. Just to tell you that things were being taken care of. If that poison is being made it is not being made at my old home. I’ll come back and see you again, Aunt Alice, for father’s sake.”
She didn’t respond. He gave the vacant woman one last glance before Disapparating quietly from the ward and straight back to the men’s toilet at The Hog’s Head in Hogsmeade, which he had left just fifteen minutes earlier.
Picking his broom up from behind the cistern he gathered his cloak tightly around him and left the grimy bathroom. The pub was dimly lit by greasy candles and only a few people clustered around the bar area, laughing at something the barman had said. He approached the bar and clapped one of them on the back.
“Well, Malcolm,” he said with false jollity. “This after hours drinking is all well and good but my bed calls. If you would be so good as to let me out I’ll be on my way.”
Malcolm, who was surprised the well-bred young man chose the Hog’s Head as his boozer of choice, grinned at him with a mouth devoid of teeth and shuffled off his bar stool. He reached into his pocket for a set of oversized brass keys and dragged his feet towards the heavy door of the pub.
“You’re allus welcome ‘ere, my lad,” he said in a deep, rough voice. “Your money spends as well as anybody’s.”
“Thanks,” Roderick said, eager now to be away from the sordid atmosphere of the pub and the sickly glare of the hospital. He stepped into the night without a backward glance and flipped his leg across his broom before taking off into the night. Malcolm watched him go through narrowed eyes and wondered why the young lad’s face looked so familiar. With a shrug he turned and closed the door, turning the key stiffly in the lock. A few more foaming few pints of beer waited for him at the bar and he was looking forward to finishing them off before bed.
Roderick thought he was doing well as he slipped silently back into Hogwarts. It was only two in the morning and he felt fairly sure he would be able to take up his position beside Maeve’s door without too much trouble. He dropped his broom off in his room before walking quietly towards the second floor offices of Professor O’Malley. It had been fortunate he had swapped shifts with old Titus. As soon as he had heard that Dumbledore had arrived with a box of Alice Longbottom’s things he knew he would have to find a way of intercepting anything that might have been damaging. He had thought, when Maeve went directly to bed, that it would be easy but she had got up again and he had been afraid she would read the diary before he had the chance to get it away. Luck had sent her to sleep before she could fully read the contents and Roderick had been only too happy to slip silently into her room and take it before she woke. The little spell he had that allowed him to see through walls had proved well worth the effort it took to cast it in this instance.
As he approached her door and saw the light seeping out he knew immediately that something had gone badly wrong. Racing along the last few yards he reached the door just in time to see Malachy Meany being ushered from the room with hands and legs bound tightly. A flicker of recognition passed between the two men but neither acknowledged the other. Roderick smiled briefly at Tonks, Titus and the other two men before swallowing hard and walking into the room. He felt deeply uncomfortable when he realised that Albus Dumbledore was in there, alone.
“Ah, Mr Rampton,” Dumbledore said, without looking at the other man. “You have been out visiting at this late hour?”
“An emergency, Professor,” Roderick lied slickly. “An old aunt taken to hospital. I thought I had better pop along for a few minutes just to see if the old dear would make it through the night.”
“And will she?” Dumbledore did not believe the lie but nor did he want to alert the young man to that fact until he could establish exactly where he had been.
“Yes. Silly old bird took a Double Dream Draught and then went out shopping. Collapsed in Diagon Alley while trying to buy some silk underwear.”
Despite himself Dumbledore couldn’t help smiling at the inventiveness.
“Where is Maeve?” Roderick asked.
“She is with Severus. There was an incident with an unwelcome visitor. Fortunately she was not in the room at the time.” Dumbledore looked at him for some sort of reaction and he had to admire Roderick’s skill as an Auror when there was none. He was a perfectly adept spy, which was what made him so useful.
“The visitor was the man who has just left?”
“Malachy Meany, her cousin. Do you know him?”
“No, never seen the chap before. What did he want?”
“We don’t know, but he wasn’t too concerned with capturing Maeve, fortunately.” Dumbledore closed the bedroom door and then the sitting room door, leaving them standing in the outer office. “There will be no need for you to stand guard tonight, Severus will keep a watch over her for now. Perhaps you could go back to your aunt?”
“Oh, not necessary,” Roderick bluffed as they stepped out into the corridor. “She’s sound asleep. I may as well grab some extra sleep myself and work Titus’ shift for him in the morning, if that’s all right?”
“Well, as long as you don’t make any more unscheduled trips away from the castle, I don’t see why not.”
The two wizards nodded a sharp goodnight before walking off in opposite directions. Both of them had nagging doubts but they concerned vastly different things. As Roderick rounded the corner a shadowy figure stepped into his path and the soft brush of a tail wound itself around Roderick’s legs.
“’Evening, Mr Rampton.” Mr Filch’s insidious voice was low as he watched the young Auror’s eyes flicker dangerously. “Rather late to be wandering around?”
“The same could be said for you, my good fellow,” Roderick said lightly, making to step past the skulking man.
“Ah, but it’s my job to be patrolling these corridors. Aren’t you supposed to be watching someone?”
“It’s none of your business,” he snapped. Roderick had never liked this fawning excuse for a caretaker. There was something deeply wrong about the man and he couldn’t pinpoint it.
“There’s lots of things that aren’t my business, but I know them all the same.” Filch leered. “I know, for instance, that you are acquainted with that chap they took away tonight.”
“You are mistaken. Now, if you don’t mind I have a bed to get to.”
Filch blocked his way as Mrs Norris continued to wind her way around Roderick’s legs.
“Nah, I’m not mistaken,” Filch insisted. “I’ve seen you down the Hog’s Head when you don’t think anyone’s looking. The pair of you seem quite pally, I’d say.”
“I said you were mistaken and you are. I don’t frequent the Hog’s Head and if I did I wouldn’t be meeting the likes of that filth. Now, Mr Filch, if I have to ask you again to get out of my way I will do so with my wand rather than with words. Do you understand me?”
“I understand you,” Filch said, as he stepped to one side. “I understand you more than you would like.”
Filch liked to rattle people and he could see that Roderick Rampton was very rattled indeed as he stormed off down the corridor. Mrs Norris transferred her sinuous movements back to Filch and he gave a low snigger that was filled with spite. He’d get one up on these oh-so-clever wizards if it was the last thing he did. Mr Filch liked to gather information, secure in the knowledge that one day it would worth something to somebody.
No natural light entered the dungeon office so Severus had become used to waking himself at five o’clock without the use of either a timepiece or daylight. He despised the harsh tones of bells penetrating his sleeping mind and refused an alarm clock, no matter how gentle the chime. This morning his usually reliable body clock let him down and he was still sleeping restlessly as the rest of the school woke up. Maeve curled peacefully in his bed, turning at the occasional drip of water or the movement of the restive Severus. It was only when a particularly large spark from the fire whizzed out and crackled against the stone floor that Severus woke. He knew immediately it was late. The whole atmosphere of his rooms shrieked at him that it was well past the normal waking hour. Severus was not a man to panic unduly but this could have catastrophic consequences. He sat up, the pain in his neck from the uncomfortable position made him wince but he ignored the numb sensation and crossed to the bed.
In any other circumstances he would have almost enjoyed watching the sleeping figure in his bed. He was reminded of her softness on the boat when they had first brought her back. Maeve’s face was mottled on one side from the effects of lying on the rumpled pillow and it gave her the appearance of having little white scars running across her cheek. Her hair was tangled and ran across the pillow in a web of livid red. He took all this in within a few seconds and then spoke her name roughly, not trusting himself to shake her awake. She stirred lazily and opened one eye to the gloom.
“Good morning,” she croaked, her voice dry and cracked.
“It’s after eight,” he said shrilly. “The whole bloody school will be up. We need to get you out of here without the students seeing you.”
“Hmm,” she said, opening the other eye and registering the look of angry panic on his face.
“Maeve, please, get up!”
He hurriedly unfurled his robes and began to button himself into them. He knew that once the last button was fastened he would feel a little more like himself. Maeve threw lazy arms above her head and stretched out against the bedclothes. She knew it would be easy enough for her to slip from the room with her cloak around her shoulders. If anyone spotted her they would think she had been for an early morning walk and was passing by the Potions Master’s rooms with something school-related.
“I slept really well,” she yawned, watching as he hurriedly smoothed his hair down. “How about you?”
“How about me what?” he asked. “And please hurry up!”
“How well did you sleep?” she repeated, sitting up.
Severus quickly averted his eyes, as she was wearing only the thin slip that barely covered any flesh. He could feel a flush creep up his cheeks and he quickly walked through to the other room, ignoring her question.
“Just get up!” he shouted. “What if a student comes to my door?”
“Is that likely?” she asked, raising her voice to be heard through the walls. “They don’t often bother me first thing in the morning.”
“Well, it’s unlikely but it’s possible,” he said, sticking his head back through the door as he gathered together some books that he wanted for the first lesson. He immediately regretted it though as she had jumped from the bed and was standing there with next to nothing on. “For Merlin’s sake, put some bloody clothes on!”
“Don’t be such a prude,” she said, grinning. She did put the dressing gown around her shoulders though and Snape heaved a sigh as the fabric covered up most of her visible body. “You did invite me to spend the night here, as I recall.”
“I didn’t expect you still to be here when the rest of the school woke up though. How are you going to get out of my rooms without being seen?” He collided with her as he crossed to the small sink to brush his teeth.
“Hey! I was going to wash my face,” she grinned but the grin quickly faded as he glared at her, toothpaste foaming around his mouth. “It can wait.”
She wandered into his sitting room, if you could call the dungeon a sitting room. It really looked more like a torture chamber than anything else. She pointed her wand at the table and with a quick charm produced some hot jug of coffee and two cups. Pouring the hot liquid into the cups she wondered if he was normally this tetchy in the morning. What did it take to find a morning person around here?
“Do you want a coffee? I’ve made you one anyway,” she called between hot sips of the reviving liquid.
“Want a what?” he thundered as he strode back into the room with his face clear of any traces of toothpaste. “What are you doing?” he looked as horrified as she had ever seen him. “Maeve, will you please just go!”
“You are going to do yourself an injury if you carry on like this. I don’t even have a lesson until 10 o’clock so it’s not as if I am going to be late. Perhaps it would be better if I stayed here until all the children are in class. I promise I won’t touch anything or make this place look in any way like an attractive living space.”
He looked at her, pondering the possibility. “Yes, I suppose you could.”
“And I could always borrow something to transfigure into a pair of shoes,” she suggested, her eyes trailing thoughtfully towards the two bats that were hanging peacefully from one of the beams that ran across the ceiling.
“You will not touch my bats,” he said sternly and then froze as someone knocked on the door. Unlike Maeve’s room, which had an outer office, this one opened straight onto the corridor and he looked at her askance as the knock sounded again, sharper this time.
“Bedroom, now,” he hissed.
“Okay,” she said, placing her mug down on the table and sloping off towards the other room. She wouldn’t mind an extra half hour in bed; it would make for a relaxing morning after the strain of last night. She couldn’t help wondering, despite herself, what had happened to Malachy Meany. They would try him very quickly and he would probably be sent to Azkaban. Not that she minded. If Voldemort hadn’t been using the Dementors she would have quite liked him to receive the kiss.
She heard him open the door and Harry’s voice reached her ears.
“Professor McGonagall asked me to bring you these,” he said sullenly to Severus. Maeve craned around to see what Harry had brought but she couldn’t manage an angle that would mean she could see without being seen.
“Thank you, Potter,” Severus said brusquely. “That will be all.”
“Ermm, she also asked me to remind you that…” Harry stopped mid-sentence and she could hear Severus’ sharp intake of impatient breath.
“Yes?” he prompted.
Harry was too busy looking elsewhere. Through the door to the bedroom he could see a mirror and reflected in that mirror was the semi-clad figure of his Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher. She was sitting up in bed running fingers through tousled hair and Harry suddenly felt sick. His eyes moved to the table and he could see the two coffee cups still steaming.
“Yes?” Severus said again, in his agitation he hadn’t really taken in what Harry was seeing.
“Can’t remember,” Harry said dully. “You’ll have to ask her yourself.”
“Don’t be so impertinent, boy. You must have some idea what it was she…. oh, never mind.” But Harry was already hurrying away with a disgusted look on his face. As Severus turned around he saw what Harry had seen, the mirror was still glinting treacherously at the now closed door. He couldn’t believe it. Of all the students to see her it had to be that runt, Potter. He ground his teeth a little before walking across and slamming the bedroom door closed on a startled Maeve. She frowned as she then heard the outer door slam and silence descended on the room.