Chapter Thirty
Is He or Isn’t He?
“Perhaps he had inside information,” Severus said with a knowing scowl.
“From who?” Maeve was incredulous. She refused to believe the answer to their questions could be as easy as a parchment found lying abandoned beneath a bed. “This is misleading. He can’t have known.”
“Are you saying he planted it there? I hardly think that’s his style. Do you? I’ve always found him to be rather showy. And besides, he wouldn’t have had the intelligence.”
“Literally or figuratively?” she asked as she looked again at the parchment. “But I suppose we don’t even know if he’s right or not? He could have been making it up for his own ends.”
Severus looked gratified that she was finally starting to think suspiciously of her former guard. He knew it was only a matter of time before he was proved right about Roderick Rampton.
“But it does tie up with the list of ingredients that Drooble’s Best sent me. It’s on that list.”
“Show me,” Severus said, holding out an expectant hand.
“It’s charmed,” she said as she pushed the blank sheet of parchment across at him. Even the company header had faded into the paper. “You won’t be able to read it.”
He gave her a withering look as he pulled his black wand from his robes and moved it across the list, each word appearing beneath the superior magic that Drooble’s Best had not anticipated. His eyes betrayed no emotion as he handed the list back to her, blank once more.
“Impressive,” she said with a smile. “All their secrecy didn’t amount to much.”
“Silly nonsense,” he said dismissively. Although his face did twitch in irritation at one particular piece of parchment he had not been able to read. That had contained a very clever piece of magic, which had poked its tongue out at him in a most insulting fashion. He shook thoughts of Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot and Prongs from his memory and swiftly returned to the present
“A more pertinent question would be what has he done with the information? This letter is addressed to Mafalda Hopkirk at the Improper Use of Magic Department and yet it obviously never got there.” Severus took the parchment back and surveyed its contents once more. “Or this could be a draft.”
My dear Mafalda,
It would seem that my position has its advantages. The answer to the question on everyone’s lips is Congealing Clumpther. I suppose it would take something so rotten to combat something equally rotten.
Mum’s the word on your source though… wouldn’t want my precarious position revealed, now would we? I just thought you could use the information to outmanoeuvre that old fool Dumbledore. He’s got those two patronizing, pompous teachers working on it at the moment but without inside knowledge they will take forever.
Yrs, etc, Rod.
Severus’ lips wrinkled with distaste as he held the parchment at arm’s length. Pompous? And patronizing? Although on reflection it had hardly been difficult to patronise such a blathering idiot as Rampton with his dim-witted mind.
“Mafalda? That name rings a bell,” Maeve said, tapping her desk absentmindedly as she tried to remember why.
“Probably the young lady Mala Hopkirk. Her daughter, I believe.”
“Really? Now that is interesting. I wonder if we could find a way of getting the girl to ask her mother indirectly about the stuff.”
“You will keep giving these children ridiculous levels of trust, Maeve. It’s entirely inappropriate. One day you will come unstuck.”
But Maeve wasn’t listening; she was trying to think of a way to get Mala to find out exactly what her mother knew about Roderick. Mafalda must have been on reasonably close to Roderick if he signed himself as Rod. She also had to show Dumbledore the parchment. If Congealing Clumpther was the solution then they would have to secure a supply and test it as soon as they could. And if what was written about Dumbledore was true then Roderick was indeed the spy that Severus had been warning them all about.
It could take weeks just to get the right dosage of the Clumpther… always assuming that Roderick wasn’t playing a game. Weeks of working on one ingredient just because of something that Roderick had left lying around.
“How do we know he didn’t just plant this in his room to throw us of the scent?” she said, bringing Severus round from his reverie about Orders of Merlin for services to the Wizarding World. “And how did it turn up? It seems strange that an Auror would leave something so potentially damaging in his room.”
“It turned up because I find it very helpful to have people that trust me in places where it can be useful,” Severus said slyly. “As to why it was there, perhaps he just forgot.”
“It was there for a reason,” she insisted, shaking her head with a determined dismissal of his words. “He didn’t forget.”
“As you wish,” he said, getting up and rolling up he parchment. “I can obtain some of this Clumpther. When would you like it?”
“When can you get it?” she responded quickly. “And where will you get it from?”
“Never mind where I get it from,” he said guardedly. Severus protected his secrets well, especially the secrets he kept about sources of sometimes-dubious ingredients. He had been surprised to see Clumpther on the list. He didn’t particularly share Maeve’s concern about giving it to children but he was intrigued as to where the company imported it from. Early spring was a good time to work with the normally unappealing plant. It would be in its transition stage between mouldy cheese and sweaty feet…neither smell would be fully formed and would not leave an odour that lingered for weeks after the plant had gone.
“Join me in my office tonight and we can start work on it. That will be the earliest I can get it by.”
“It will mean we have to give it to the patients,” she said, unease settling on her already over-burdened shoulders. “It will be kill or cure.”
“Or it will be nothing. The chances are it will have little effect for a while until we understand more about the structure of the plant and what it does to the body.” He turned to go, leaving her hunched over her desk looking at the photograph. “That’s the most damming piece of evidence we have so far,” he said in parting.
The heavy door closed behind him and she looked up for a moment, tearing her eyes away from the summery image in her hands. Maeve knew she had been right about Alice and Alice’s suspicions. It was all slowly falling in to place and she knew it was only a matter of time before someone would have to pay a visit to Rampton Court. But if they did she dreaded to think of the outcome both from the plant and the Death Eaters that surely guarded it. There would be many deaths unless she and Severus could make an early breakthrough and protect their own. Draco had mentioned something about chewing the gum but Maeve couldn’t believe it was that easy. It could offer some protection but it wouldn’t bring their sleepers back or prevent them from dying. Perhaps you had to chew it for a very long time for it to be effective…which would mean the amount of Clumpther in it wasn’t very much.
As she left her room to break the news to Professor Dumbledore she realised she had allowed Severus to take the parchment with him and she had wanted to present the headmaster with such proof as they had. Hurrying down towards Severus’ dungeon she fully expected to find him with his head in the fire, ordering the plant from whatever back street supply he had sourced. She hadn’t expected to find him deep in conversation with Argus Filch on the threshold of his office. She drew up just before she came into view and watched from between the rather chunky legs of the statue of Jezebel Jenkins, the witch with the highest Quidditch score of any woman in the game in its long history. Jezebel’s sweeping broom hid her nicely from view as she leaned forward to try and catch what they were saying.
“Thank you, Professor,” Filch muttered as he took a small bottle of some greenish liquid from Severus’ wary hand. “Be a blessed relief to close my eyes for a few hours.”
“You can only use it for one night in four or you may never wake up again,” Severus warned. “And there is something else.”
The words hung between them, trying to decide whether or not Argus Filch was receptive to more demands. He inclined an oily head in Severus’ direction, indicating that he was eager to try out his potion and whatever Severus wanted had better be quick.
“Congealing Clumpther,” Severus whispered, darting probing eyes into the gloom around them to ensure they were not being overheard. Maeve drew back quickly, grateful for Jezebel’s ample figure.
Filch pursed his lips and sucked in air slowly, as if he were a broom repairer who was about to give some bad news regarding the price of his work. He hummed and ahhhed for a further few minutes, something that cost Severus a great deal of his patience as he tried not to shake an answer out of the toadying little man.
“‘S difficult, professor,” Filch said with feeling. “’S very difficult.”
Severus clenched his teeth tightly and tried not to grind them in frustration.
“See, I have a friend who might be able to help but it all depends on whether or not he’ll be in the pub tonight. When do you want it?”
“In the next few hours,” Severus responded carefully.
Another suck of air and Filch’s eyebrow almost touched his hairline.
“Now, now, Professor Snape, that’s not leaving me much time, is it?”
Severus didn’t respond and merely looked disinterested with the whole proceedings. If Filch had any idea how important this was he didn’t wish to confirm his suspicions.
“It’s possible, I suppose,” Filch eventually said, his voice heavy with reluctance. It was clear to Severus that this was a favour he would be paying heavily for at a later date. Out of the corner of his eye he saw shadows dance across the legs of that hideous statue that he’d so often tried to get rid of — somehow she just kept coming back.
“Good,” Severus said, wishing to terminate the negotiations now that he had suspicions about their solitude. “Then I shall see you later, Mr Filch. Good night.”
He stepped smartly back into his rooms and closed the door with quiet firmness. A flash of his wand warped the wood in the middle of the door and created a small hole through which he could observe his corridor without in turn being observed. Filch had just stuck a rather long and dirty fingernail up his left nostril and was dragging something out of it. Severus’ stomach turned in disgust but his attention was drawn away from the vile Filch and towards the statue where, sure enough, he could see the shadow of a person hiding. It wasn’t until Filch had moved away that the shadow moved out into the open and he allowed himself a small smile of irritation. That woman just had to know everything and one day it would get her into trouble. He opened the door just as she raised a hand to knock and took some satisfaction from the fact that she jumped back in alarm.
“How did you…?” she babbled.
“It’s very difficult to hide anything from me,” he said coldly. “And, really, she’s not the best hiding place.”
“I didn’t mean to listen in to your conversation,” she mumbled. His face tightened as he placed his hands firmly on his hips and tutted loudly.
“Of course not… so why didn’t you make your presence known?”
“Erm…”
“Exactly. So now you know, I will expect you to keep it to yourself.”
“I would have done anyway. I don’t know why you didn’t trust me with the information to begin with.”
“Maeve, petulance really doesn’t become you. So what did you want? We have only just parted.”
“That parchment,” she said, wondering if she had just been forgiven. “I have to go and see Dumbledore now and I wanted to show it to him.”
He handed her the parchment and as their fingers met he allowed his to linger there for just a little while longer than was necessary. With a grin she knew she was definitely forgiven and she playfully hit him with the rolled up parchment before spiralling away down the corridor. He watched her go, her brightness illuminating the corridor so cheerfully that when she had gone all seemed gloomy again.
“So, Lucius,” Voldemort was pacing the large cavern while Bella watched him with dark, unblinking eyes. She liked the underground world and couldn’t help thinking what a wonderful home it would make with just a few alterations. She half-wondered if, once this was over and they were victorious, Voldemort would allow her to keep the place. “Are we ready to go?”
“Absolutely, my lord,” Lucius said with just the right amount of fawning admiration in his voice. “The last batch is being prepared as we speak. We have had a good week; only one Muggle died.”
“Don’t you mean a bad week?” Voldemort cut in with a twist of a smile about his dry lips.
“Oh, yes, of course.” Lucius gave a low laugh and continued, not really understanding the joke. “They are just bottling the vapour now. Unfortunately that is the costliest part of the operation and it would be appreciated if the Death Eaters who carry out the attacks could try not to break them.”
“Lucius,” he drawled dangerously. “Have you never heard of an unbreakable charm? And irregardless of that, surely we can spare a few bottles in order to achieve complete domination?”
“Of course, my lord.” If Lucius had been about to argue any further he stopped himself. He had vast sums of money sitting in his bank vaults but that didn’t mean he wanted to fritter it away on Voldemort’s toys any more than was completely necessary. “Would you like a tour?”
“Do I need one?” Voldemort asked as he stopped his pacing and stood beneath a particularly impressive display of stalactites that pointed viciously at the ground. “Although there are aspects of the place that impress me.”
“I thought perhaps you would like to see the engine room, so to speak,” Lucius said. He was proud of his operation and was a little put out that Voldemort didn’t seem particularly interested in it.
“Now why would I want to do that? Nothing is completely failsafe and I will not be going anywhere near that poison.” He gave a hissing laugh that made Lucius recoil inside. “But I’m sure Bella would like a tour, wouldn’t you, my darling?”
Bella didn’t look particularly impressed by this but swept to her feet and approached Lucius with all the eagerness of a dying man clutching at straws.
“Show her everything; I want to hear about it all.” His eyes raked their faces for any sign of insubordination and he found none. Bella had become adept at hiding everything but her adoration and Lucius… well, he didn’t care much for Lucius. Once this was over Lucius would be as expendable as the rest of them.
“Of course, my lord,” Lucius said, indicating with a wave of his hand that Bella should go first.
“And, Lucius.” Voldemort’s rasping tone brought them to an abrupt halt. “I have it on good authority that Mr Rampton is on his way to join us. Please make him comfortable while he is here.”
Lucius allowed a brief look of surprise cross his face but he controlled it quickly and nodded his assent, ushering Bella from the cavern and straight into the masked figure of Edward. He nodded his head at the tall woman who looked down on him with disdain. She had known the Mullions and this was clearly their son; those violet eyes were an immediate giveaway. They were loyal but insignificant so she prepared to brush past him but he stopped her with a hand that rested on her sleeve.
“You will need one of these, ma’am,” he said, holding out a small white mask in his other hand.
“Why?” She looked to Lucius who gave an airy wave of his hand.
“Yes, you should wear one. It’s the only way to stop the particles getting in your lungs.”
“You’re not wearing one,” she said pointedly.
“I have other means of protection,” he said quietly.
Edward looked puzzled as he tried to imagine what his master was talking about. He had worked for him for a year now and he had never mentioned any other form of protection. It was rather selfish, thought Edward sulkily; if Lucius had another means he should pass it on to others.
“Just put on the mask, Bella,” he said. He wanted to add that he wouldn’t have to see her haggard face with it on but he held his tongue.
“Sir,” Edward said as they made to move away from him.
“What is it now?” Lucius barked.
“There’s a gentleman arrived to see you. A Mr Roderick Rampton.”
Bella smiled beneath her mask and Lucius nodded curtly.
“Where is he?” Lucius asked and Edward told him that he had sent Roderick for some breakfast. Lucius expressed the tiniest hint of gratitude and finally managed to usher Bella down the tunnel and on to the rest of the facility.
“Thank you for telling me everything.” Professor Dumbledore walked beside Maeve as they watched the sun dip beneath the trees. Maeve was very pleased to see that the evenings kept their hold on the daylight for just a little longer now. It made the prospect of the warmth of summer seem ever more real. The air was still sharp and had not yet achieved that softness of late March but the snow had completely vanished and flowers poked colourful heads up from the awakening earth.
“I know you must be disappointed about Roderick,” she said. “I’m still not entirely convinced about his guilt, but things look very bad for him. I had my suspicions in Ireland when he revealed himself to Bella. I didn’t want to believe that he could have been in league with them.”
“No, we seldom want to believe the worst of people we have come to trust,” he agreed sadly. “I wish I could say that you become accustomed to disappointments but regretfully you never do. Each betrayal is as fresh and sharp as the first.” He walked with a slight stoop, something Maeve had never really noticed before and as she watched him from the corner of her eye she realised that he was looking his age. Of course he always looked a little bit old; it was what came of being over 150 years of age. But now he looked older than he had ever done, even his eyes looked weary. There was still a great deal of steel about Albus Dumbledore but it was tempered with age and a lifetime of toil. She couldn’t help wonder how long he would continue in his position.
“I know,” she said. “I seem to hear nothing but continual bad news about my own past.”
He looked at her sharply and the spark was backing his eyes.
“What have you heard?” he asked.
“That my father lost my mother’s life in a bet.”
“Oh, Maeve. It is unfortunate that you heard that from someone other than myself. Who told you?” He tried to asses her feelings about this tragedy and could read nothing in the contours of her smooth face.
“Severus.”
“Yes, I can see how that might have happened.” Dumbledore stopped walking and couldn’t help wondering just why Severus had told her the story of her mother’s death. Knowing Severus it would have been in the heat of the moment and he would have regretted it. “Niall is a foolish man. I made a very grave mistake in allowing you to stay with him. When he recalled you I should not have allowed you to go.”
“He was my legal guardian,” she said. “It was hardly your fault.”
“There are ways around these things, my dear. There are ways around most things if you apply a little thought to the problem. I have made some bad decisions,” he said, with a shake of his head.
“I am sure you have always done what you think is best.” She knew her attempts at reassurance where weak. She was not used to being in the position of his counsellor.
“Can our best ever be good enough?” he replied. “I didn’t save you from your father and I didn’t save Harry from making a terrible mistake with Sirius last year. It is these things that make me worry about my own judgement.”
“Your judgement is sound,” she said. But even as she said the words she doubted them. Severus had told her a very long time ago that she should go to him rather than Dumbledore and now here was Dumbledore almost agreeing with Severus’ sentiments.
“Not as sound as it once was,” he said with a smile. The melancholy of the evening seemed to affecting him and Maeve took the opportunity to ask him something she had wanted to know the answer to ever since Severus had told her about her mother on the day that they had had that other terrible news at Grimmauld Place.
“Professor,” she began and he gave her a world-weary look that was layered with worry.
“I know what you wish to know,” he said, his eyes trapping her thoughts. “Are you ready to know it though? That is my question. What will you do with the information?”
“I just need to know,” she said although she couldn’t help the sudden image of her own face filled with vengeful anger, finally confronting the wizard who had take her mother’s life.
“I will tell you but you must make me a promise, Maeve. Promise me that you will not confer the sins of the father to the son?”
She nodded her head, unheeding of his words, and prepared herself to hear the name of the man who had killed her mother. What she heard made her reel back in horror and she had to clutch at the aged oak tree that she stood beside to keep herself upright. Her blood fell from her upper body and she felt rather than heard the cry that escaped her dry mouth. Dumbledore’s strong arms supported her, pulling her back from the tree and along to a bench that faced towards the lake. The water was calm after the earlier storms and it reflected the buoyant blueness of the sky. Fingers of dying sunlight reached across the water and warmed her stricken face as she looked out into nothingness.
They sat in silence for a little while, Dumbledore didn’t press her for a reaction, he knew it would come when it was ready.
Darkness threw its cool cloak around them as they continued to sit in silence and the lights of the school flickered gently in the background. A few students called loudly to each other as the boisterousness of the day died down and the school settled itself into the evening. Eventually, when looking out across the water had become too painful in its simplicity, she turned to Dumbledore with still dry eyes and nodded her acceptance of the fact.
“Does he know?” she asked hoarsely.
“No, he does not know. I shall leave it up to you to tell him, if you wish.”
“I don’t think I can,” she said with a confused shake of her head. “How could you tell the person you love more than any other that their father killed your mother?”
“I don’t think Kentigern Snape knew who he was dealing with. I think Niall lied about his identity and about your mother’s identity. He killed your mother because he was an evil man, Maeve, not because she was your mother.”
She continued to shake her head in disbelief. The ramifications were only just beginning to sink in and she was trying desperately to push them away. Only last night they had spent their first real night together in blissful ignorance of this piece of information that had the power to destroy them both. How could she see him again without thinking about what his father had done? How could she tell him and yet, how could she not?
“Kentigern Snape killed my mother,” she said, feeling the horror of the words crash over her tongue and into the air that was threatening to suffocate her. “He gambled with people’s lives. He killed people for…fun!” She looked bewildered, unable to take in this information about Severus’s father. It was all happening to someone else, far away, this couldn’t be her life? Her own existence couldn’t be so filled with pain and revelation at every turn. Just when she had been about to snatch happiness from the snapping jaws of failure this had happened. She looked angrily at Dumbledore, needing an outlet for her pain and frustration.
“Why did you tell me?” she growled, her voice broken with unhappiness. “Why didn’t you make something up? You could have just picked a name from the air and told me anything… but you had to tell me the one thing that would destroy my happiness. YOU COULDN’T LEAVE WELL ENOUGH ALONE!” She rose from the bench and stared down at the old wizard. “It’s just another bad decision for you... just another mistake… but it’s my life.”
“I know,” he said bleakly. “I know it’s your life, child. But you wanted the truth. Would you have truly been happy with a lie?”
“Yes! It would have been better than the truth.”
“Sit back down, Maeve. It’s been a huge shock and you need time to take stock.” He said, trying to restore some balance to her now out of kilter perspective. “You also have other things to consider. Perhaps they would take your mind off this.”
She looked at him with disbelief clinging to her very soul.
“Take my mind off it? How can my mind be taken off it? I can’t even breathe without feeling pain.”
“Perhaps you would like to talk to someone else,” he suggested.
“Perhaps I would like this knowledge to go away,” she retorted, anger still twisting her voice. “You sent Remus away too, didn’t you, on some little mission. I would have talked to Remus… he could have made some sort of sense of this for me.” A single tear crawled from one of her lower eyelids. “Bring him back.”
Dumbledore shook his head slowly. “I can’t bring him back, Maeve. He’s beyond my calling now.”
“I want Remus,” she said desperately. She was acting like a child with no one to comfort it in its moment of deepest need. “I don’t want to feel like this.”
She looked at him one last time before she felt more tears follow that first one. Lifting up the skirts of her cloak she ran away. She had no idea where she was running but as long as she kept running it didn’t seem to matter. Professor Dumbledore watched her go and he knew what he had to do. There was only one person that could make her see that Severus Snape was not the same as Kentigern Snape and with a huge, doleful sigh he left the bench and re-entered the school.
The knock on the dark door was anticipated and Severus opened it, expecting either Filch or Maeve. When he saw Dumbledore’s troubled face he knew there was a very serious problem. As Dumbledore spoke quickly and quietly Severus’ face remained completely impassive. It was only when the headmaster stepped away from the door did Severus move. He brushed past Dumbledore and walked with swift purpose out of the castle and into the night.
“Roderick Rampton, at your service,” Roderick held out his well manicured hand and allowed Lucius to shake it warily. Lucius didn’t like surprises and he counted the arrival of this… character… as a surprise of the first order. It unsettled him on such an important day and he didn’t want anything going wrong with Voldemort prowling the tunnels.
“And just what form exactly does your ‘service’ take? I don’t believe we have met before.”
“No, we haven’t. But I can be of service to you in ways that will see you permanently in Lord Voldemort’s good books.” He gave Lucius a charismatic smile and at the mention of Voldemort’s good books Lucius’ ears perked up considerably.
“How do I know I can trust you and what can you do for me?”
“Because the woman that Voldemort so wants to kill trusts me. I have access to the school and its grounds and I can arrange for you to get in too. Imagine if you brought her back and laid her at the feet of the Dark Lord? Imagine the fame, Lucius… imagine the rewards.”
Lucius was having no trouble imagining but he was having trouble accepting that this good-looking man was in any way useful to him.
“How did you have access to Hogwarts?” he asked.
“I was…still am... a trained Auror assigned to protect her. Protection is all well and good but it doesn’t beat the fun of causing mischief.” He gave a very disarming smile and Lucius could feel himself being drawn gently into whatever web Roderick was busily weaving. “I have bided my time and now I think it is time to act. Without her death and the boy’s we can never rest easy, so the Dark Lord tells me.”
His last words implied a degree of intimacy with Voldemort that impressed Lucius and he nodded in agreement. “That’s very true, very true.”
“And without me you are all going to have a very hard time getting at her. With her we’ll get the boy and with the defeat of the boy your future will be assured.” Roderick sat back and smiled, allowing his persuasive words to have their effect.
Lucius had always been a very shrewd man. He had moved with whoever could get him the most in terms of money and power. He was the ultimate yes-man for whoever’s star was rising the fastest and Voldemort was flying through the firmament again. He knew he had to grasp whatever opportunities arose to get even further into the Dark Lord’s good books and maybe this strange young man presented just such an opportunity.
“I think I can see your point, Mr Rampton,” he said in measured tones. “I think maybe you and I need to talk about this further. You know we almost have a new batch of the vapour ready; it will take three or four days from it leaving here until it is ready to use. Now in that time a lot of things could happen. If I brought him the woman then no doubt that would make the launch go off with an even greater bang.” His smile was worryingly wide as he appraised Rampton again and found him worthy of the time.
“I’m glad we seem to be on the same wavelength, Lucius. I had a feeling you would be more than amenable to my suggestions. But not a word to anyone, otherwise you’ll have to share the glory!”
“Certainly, and I expect the same from you.”
Roderick gave him a mildly offended look and insisted that nothing was further from his mind than offering this prize to anyone else.
Bella chanced upon them coming back from the office and the look on Lucius’ face troubled her. She did not trust Lucius at all and her greatest wish, aside from those that concerned Voldemort directly, was to see him brought down at some point. Bella resolved to keep him within her sights as much as possible over the coming few days. Lucius Malfoy was always up to something and this time she would be the one to catch him out.
Professor Dumbledore returned to his office and sank into his chair with a despairing look on his face. He could do no more for them. He had to trust that Severus would do the right thing and that she would be receptive. How the sins of the fathers are all too often crippling burdens for their children, he reflected, his thoughts echoing the words he had said to Maeve earlier. He wondered if the passage of time would prove his decisions to have been the right ones or had they all been a disastrous series of mistakes. He watched as Fawkes preened slightly and he knew her emotional state wasn’t his only worry. He now had to figure out a way to get her mind off the problem of the murderous Kentigern Snape and back on to the cure for the Somnus Funestus vapour. He found himself praying that Severus would, for once, act with tact and responsibility in the face of a desperate situation.
Severus hadn’t allowed Dumbledore’s words to reach anywhere important inside him yet. There would be time enough for his own examination of the evil behaviour his father had been accused of. No, he thought as he strayed towards the forest, not accused. There was no doubt in Severus’ mind that his father was perfectly capable of the deed. He had scoured the entire school in ever decreasing circles in the hope of finding her and he had failed so now he had to assume that she would be near to the forest. Professor Dumbledore had mentioned that her flight had taken her towards Hagrid’s hut and although it was improbable it was just possible she might have sought shelter with that overgrown oaf.
He rapped sharply with his knuckles on the door of the hut and was rewarded with a muffled cry to hang on. A few seconds later and the door howled on its hinges as it was pulled backwards to reveal the curious face of Hagrid.
“Well now, Professor, what can I do fer you?”
“Have you seen Professor O’Malley?” Severus asked, being very economical with his facial expression.
“Nope, can’t say that I ‘ave. Not today, anyways. ‘Ave you lost her then?”
“If you see her, please let me know,” Severus said abruptly before turning away from the bewildered Hagrid and heading for the perimeter of the forest.
Despite knowing that she was deeply upset he cursed her for leading him on this wild goose chase. It was emotional and unnecessary when all she had to do was come to see him. He stopped as the thought that maybe he was the last person she wanted to see crossed his mind. It was rare for him to feel such perception but he understood now what this meant for them. With a sense of strange inevitability he realised that this could be the third rent in their relationship, a tear that could not be sewn up with the passing of a few hard years. Would she ever be able to look him in the eyes knowing that they were eyes born of the one who killed her mother? He felt a sharp stab of anxiety then as the facts almost bled into his brain. He did not want to think about this, he wanted to find Maeve and make sure she was safe. He would not react emotionally to something that was so terrible it required deeper examination at a time when he would have privacy and a large bottle of Firewhiskey. He moved again, further towards the trees and the dark danger beneath them. Surely, even in her state, she would not have gone for the trees?
“Looking for someone?”
He whirled around at the sound of the smooth voice and felt chilled to be faced with Roderick Rampton.
“What are you doing here?” he asked sharply.
“I asked a question first, Snape…. Not so brave now you don’t have a pupil to protect you.” The grin was a fixed one and held no humour.
“Leave me be, Rampton. I have no time for your schemes now. I’ll let Dumbledore deal with you. Does he know you are here?”
“No, Severus, and he doesn’t know I’m here either.”
Severus recognised the voice immediately and he turned with a heavy heart to face his one time mentor Lucius Malfoy.
“Lucius, you are being very brave,” Severus said, bravado helping to keep the fear at bay. He longed to reach for his wand but he knew to do so would risk Lucius reaching for his own and the Death Eater would not think twice about killing him.
“No, Severus. It is you who is being both brave and foolish. Why do you continue to resist? Come back with me… when we have the woman we will be invincible.” The pale starlight reflected off the man’s white hair, giving him a strange, deathly look.
“Woman?”
“The O’Malley bitch,” Lucius said venomously. Roderick smiled to himself as he watched Severus’ shoulders stiffen at her name. And then the thought occurred to him that maybe that was who he had been looking for. He scanned the area and couldn’t see anything; her walking from the trees wouldn’t be very convenient at this moment and would spoil his plans.
“I have no interest in the woman,” Severus said, looking straight into Lucius eyes and showing the kind of control that made him such a good spy. “Why do you want her?”
“You must know!” Lucius laughed quietly. “There’s a prophecy, she’s part of it. If you came back to us I am sure the Dark lord would be most happy, especially if you brought her dead body back with you.”
Roderick’s smile grew slightly wider as he watched the dark-haired man struggle with his inner conscience. If Roderick was right, this would be the issue that would finally push Snape into doing something stupid.
“And why would I do that, Lucius?” Severus asked calmly as his fingers moved towards the inside of his robes.
“Well, what does one more dead witch matter!” Lucius’ icy laugh reminded Severus of his time within their select and deviant band and it made him loathe himself just a little bit more. Had he really had such a desperately cold, unfeeling attitude, frozen by hatred and the love of power?
“She matters to me,” Severus replied quietly and he couldn’t mistake the look of pure pleasure on Roderick’s face as Severus signed his own death warrant.
“You are really that far gone that you will involve yourself with a Halfblood-loving imbecile? Have you no self-respect, Snape? I always knew you were the image of your father but at least he knew where to draw the line.”
Severus had his wand out, hoping against hope that he could at least kill one of these fools before they killed him. He was quick but not as quick as Lucius, who in turn was not as quick as the watcher from the forest. The red bolt of the Stunning charm hit Lucius clean in the chest and sent him crashing to the ground just as he was about to fire the Killing Curse at Severus. Without looking for his saviour, Severus quickly turned his attention to Roderick who had dropped his wand and was giving a slow handclap.
“Very good,” he said, appreciatively. “A better double-act than I could have ever expected. Who would have thought that the lover would save the loved? How quaint.”
“What are you up to, Rampton? Just whose side are you on?” Severus watched as the other man strode over to Lucius and kicked him slightly with the toe of his well-crafted boot.
“But surely, Severus, as a former double-bluffer yourself…you are only too aware of the skill needed to be convincing on both sides of a very precarious fence.”
“I don’t believe you,” he replied. Severus followed the effective Stupefy on Lucius with a very tight full body bind. “We’ve been here before and I didn’t believe you then.”
“Ruddy Festering Firelings!” The booming voice reached their ears as Hagrid had emerged from his hut to see what all the sudden noise was about. “Wha’s goin’ on ‘ere then?”
He shuffled over to the fallen Lucius and couldn’t stop the smile that appeared on his large lips. “Couldn’t have ‘appened to a better bloke.”
“Hagrid, could you fetch Professor Dumbledore? As quick as you can, please!” Severus said, keeping an eye on Roderick, who was looking towards the forest.
“I don’ reckon I need ter fetch ‘im at all,” Hagrid said, with a nod in the direction of the school. “You should know by now that Dumbledore often knows when ‘e’s needed.”
Professor Dumbledore had finally decided he was too uncomfortable with the idea of leaving Maeve to Severus’ devices and had wandered out to see if he could intercept either of them. He had not been expecting the sight that met his eyes when he approached Hagrid’s home. He recognised the blond head of Lucius Malfoy immediately and showed no surprise at Roderick’s presence.
“Why here, Roderick?” he asked sadly. “Am I to believe that your duplicitous behaviour extends to bringing Death Eaters into Hogwarts itself?”
“Not at all, Professor,” Roderick said, quickly checking that Lucius was indeed still unconscious. “On the contrary. I believed I could help you. After all, I would imagine that Lucius captured would be better than Lucius on the loose.”
“He’s lying!” Severus interrupted hotly. “If that’s true why were they sneaking around and why were they planning to take Maeve. He goaded me into a reaction and I would have been killed had someone not…” he trailed off miserably as he realised he was standing here arguing when he really should have been trying to offer Maeve some thanks for what she had done. He knew it was her Roderick had been referring to a few moments earlier.
“Someone?” Dumbledore prompted.
“Maeve. Had Maeve not saved my life,” he said.
“Go,” Dumbledore said simply. “I can take care of this.”
With one last poisonous glare at Roderick, Severus wheeled away towards the forest and immediately the figure that had waited there slipped further back into the trees. He followed, lighting is wand to help his progress. He was fairly certain that Malfoy and Rampton had been alone, otherwise Malfoy would not have been taken down so easily. The danger now was not from Death Eaters but from their own past.
He trampled snowdrops underfoot as he reached the first of the trees and he hoped this wasn’t going to turn into a game of cat and mouse. He was no longer in the mood for games, no matter how heartfelt.
“Maeve, I will come in and follow you around all night if I need to,” he said into the darkness beyond his wand tip. “But that’s not how I prefer to digest this news.”
Only the silence and shuffling of a few animals answered him and he pressed on into the gloom of the trees. Roots grabbed at his ankles and he kicked at them viciously, tripping and grabbing at the trunks of trees for support. It was cooler beneath the still-bare branches and he felt the primeval quality of the woods around him. It was too early for the owls to come out and hunt but he still felt their watchful presence somewhere up there.
“Maeve,” he repeated. “Don’t do this. Come and talk to me.”
For a second he thought he heard her move in the darkness and he shone his wand in the direction of the rustle. She was there, poised between flight and confrontation. Her figure curved in line with the tree and he could see her take support from the ancient form. Her hands clawed at the bark as if her insistent scratching could shred away the pain of the knowledge. Gone was that easy familiarity of earlier and in its place sat something alien and distrustful. There was a wall of silence between them that stretched all the way back to her mother’s dying screams.
“Are you hurt?” he asked, seeing a slight trickle of blood on her cheek. “Were you attacked?” he wanted to move towards her but was aware that the approach may make her turn and flee further into the murk. They were back at the wary circling they had been at when he went with Dumbledore to take her from Abbeylara. “SPEAK TO ME!” he shouted, shattering the silence into a million screaming fragments of love.
“Or you’ll what?” she asked in a voice that was almost lost in the vastness of their predicament. “Or you’ll murder me?”
He caught his breath and hit the tree nearest to him. His knuckles cracked against it and blood seeped up gently from the grazes in his skin.
“I can’t help what he was,” he yelled. “I can’t be reborn to someone that did not murder your mother. Don’t you think I wouldn’t change that? Do you think it hasn’t affected me… he was my father! My own blood. His murdering, tainted, evil blood runs through my veins.” Severus moved a step closer and she turned to face him, dirt and blood mingling in unhappy harmony on her cheeks. “Don’t you think I wouldn’t give anything to change who I am? To wipe away the past and be someone that you can be proud of? I didn’t know what he had done. I had no idea and it shames my soul. I want to rip out my heart because it came from him. I want to tear at my brain because it contains some essence of a monster. But I can’t do any of the things I want to. I have to accept this thing.”
“What do you want from me?” she asked with a low groan as she shook her head. “How can we even consider being together after this?”
“Will you see my father every time you look at me?”
“Yes.”
“I don’t believe you!”
“ I hate you…I hate your family…leave me alone…”
“I can’t leave you alone, I love you.”
He didn’t know what the swift movement of her arm meant until the stone she had thrown caught him on the forehead, immediately drawing a river of scarlet to the surface. He raised a hand and touched the warmth before looking back to her as she raised her hand to throw another piece of the forest’s armoury.
“What are you waiting for!” he yelled. “Throw it. Find the biggest boulder in the forest and crush me beneath it. If it makes you happy then do it because I care for nothing but your happiness.”
He didn’t duck as the sharp object whistled through the air and bounced off his cheek leaving another red fleck in its wake. He watched placidly as she scrambled on the ground for more stones, rising and launching them at him with a ferocity that released more from him than it did from her. Her aim was for the most part good and his face was soon torn under the barrage. As she stooped to pick another up she felt a constriction around her neck and she dropped the stone in panic. Her throat was tightening and as she looked up and saw for the first time what she had done to the face of the man she blamed for something his father had done she couldn’t hold back the sobs. Her hand rose and loosened the tightening necklace, relieving the feeling of strangulation.
“I’m sorry,” she breathed between gulps of regret. “I’m so sorry…” She found she couldn’t move, either away from him or towards him. The bloody mess of his face and hands silently accused her of an act of gross unfairness and brutality and she couldn’t fight the feeling that she had become as bad as his father in her actions.
He held out a hand to offer her one final choice and as she wavered he wavered too. The hand seemed about to fall, hovering in the night air, held up by something other than his own strength. And then she moved. In two strides she was touching his face and wiping the blood from his eyes, appalled at the injury she had caused him. As her hand closed around his open one he finally lost any strength he had left and the wounds to his head caused him to fall. They tumbled together into the mould and decay of the forest floor and they allowed themselves to be taken into its shadowy depths as the night became solid around them.