Forgiveness

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This chapter was beta'ed by Drusilla of Perfect Imagination.


Chapter 10

Severus was sweltering in the heat of late June. The summer robes he had bought only last month were already too hot to bear, even with the cooling charms woven into the fabric. He swiped away a bead of sweat that had progressed down from his hairline to the tip of his hooked nose, before casting an additional cooling charm. Severus hated that his Dark Mark had not returned to the pallid state it had before Voldemort's resurrection. The blasted thing would no longer take a glamour, so he was stuck in the humid heat, condemned to a weight of material that concealed his forearm completely, one meant for milder climates.

He lit the fire under the cauldron, wondering just how long it took Joseph Pony to retrieve the Datura inoxia from the stores maintained meticulously by Brick. From the girlish shrieks that were issuing in the vicinity of the compound, Severus surmised that his apprentice had been detained by the sight of a certain bikini-clad werewolf who was currently charged with entertaining his daughter during her summer holiday. The two girls had taken to playing in the irrigation system that the Herbologist had redirected for their enjoyment.

Damn and blast the boy. Severus had tried to discourage the growing attraction Joseph Pony had demonstrated toward Miss DuPre, but hormones and loneliness were hard to fight, especially in a man so young. Severus had been the one to introduce the two, in an attempt to normalise the werewolf's life after her harrowing months in captivity. Of course, Severus would never admit a fondness for the outspoken girl once his main objective had been met and he had gained her trust. He was reassured that her infection was from an alpha wolf, and her participation in the research programme was assured for years. His continued solicitousness to her was merely a means to an end.

Stella had an easy rapport with the girl from the beginning and Joseph Pony was smitten from the start, but Miss DuPre remained coolly aloof to his attentions while responding warmly to the lonely little girl. Sometimes the simpering giddiness of the two females was so off-putting that Severus removed himself from their society, yet other times he missed being the sole focus of Stella's attentions.

Severus leaned out of the open window, attempting to see where the boy was and possibly to capture his attention. His search stuttered to a halt as a new figure entered the fray, splashing water and laughing as giddily as the girls. Severus' mouth went dry and his pulse increased as he noted the lack of decorous clothing on the figure of Dr. Antonia Dance. The sun caressed her figure, bringing golden highlights to her peaches-and-cream complexion. Severus wondered if she would freckle in the harsh sun beating down on her. If so, he wanted to be able to observe them closely. A purely academic pursuit, he assured himself, but still he could not deny the tightening of certain articles of clothing. He was a man, after all, and thus susceptible to visual stimulation. The doctor's form, while viscerally stimulating with its very womanly dimples, curves and quite becoming jiggles, was just another sight for him to observe almost scientifically, nothing more.

Severus leaned closer to the window to catch more of the raucous action between the three, telling himself he was worried about Stella becoming over-stimulated, when he touched the rim of the unguarded cauldron.

“Dammit!” he cursed, as he popped the burnt surface of the side of his palm in his mouth. He licked the affected appendage, knowing that his mouth was not the most sanitary method of first aid available, but unwilling to pull his hand away, so that he might look at the blistered surface. He had not been this inattentive to the potion-brewing process since his first year at Hogwarts. This was exactly the reason he missed his dungeon labs and the reason he had procured them upon his installation as Professor. Inattention in Potions could be deadly, or at the very least, painful.

“Do you need Antonia, Uncle 'Rus?” Joseph Pony asked from the doorway of the lab. “I can go get her if you do.”

Severus was not immune to the teasing tone of the boy's query. Severus snapped, “No, I do believe I am capable of smearing unguent on my hand. I am not as doddering as you think me to be.”

The boy's teeth flashed whitely against the darkness of his face. “No, Uncle, I definitely don't think you're doddering.” After a few heartbeats, Joseph Pony muttered, “Frustrated may be the better word.”

“Keep your mind out of the gutter, boy,” the older wizard growled as he turned to the cauldron to adjust the flame. “Were you able to procure the Datura, or was your concern for your sister so great that the reason for your absence escaped your limited ability to function without constant supervision?”

“Brick didn't know what parts of the plant you needed, so it took him a while to gather everything.” Joseph Pony plunked a loose collection of packages on the table. “See? I am fully functioning. Are you?”

Severus snorted as he motioned impatiently to the boy to prepare the base for the Wolfsbane as he began sorting through the packets. “You know what to do.”

Severus hissed as his burn met the parchment holding the plant materials. Joseph Pony leaned forward, peering at Severus, almost mimicking concern with his stance. “You sure you don't want me to get the doctor? She's just outside, and really medical looking, even if she is a little bit slippery from the water... and that bikini she's wearing.”

Severus glowered, not deigning to answer. The older wizard returned to the packets before him, sifting through Brick's neatly scripted notes, until he came to the white bloom. The blossom of the moonflower contained a powerful alkaloid with hallucinogenic properties used in native ceremonies. In wizards, the effect of the chemical was quite different. Granted, the roots were stronger, but the blossom's magical properties outweighed the strength of the chemicals.

Antonia had objected to the flower's inclusion in the newest decoction of Wolfsbane. Datura poisoning was, in part, the reason for Miss DuPre's mistrust of the male of the species. The strong doses of Twilight Potion had kept her in a stare of constant flux between human and werewolf, weakening her ability to change fully to either form. It was a horrible thought to have to live like that, and Severus had lived a life of horrible thoughts. He shivered, remembering the first time the girl had allowed him in her mind. Much of what had happened to her had been repressed to the point of annihilation. She simply had no memories of the horrors inflicted on her body and spirit. Other events stood out in stark relief against the void of her memories. Not once during her captivity had the girl received kindness, and there had been little enough before her infection.

Severus snorted. He had never known he had any Gryffindor tendencies until he met this girl. Her crystal hardness masked a tender fragility that drew him. She was at once a street-wise, battle-scarred werewolf, and a young, precocious child. When he looked at her, he was once again reduced to that child at his parent's knee, damaged, raw and strangely hopeful.

Joseph Pony broke his reverie. “Uncle 'Rus, the base is ready. Do you want me to start the potion?”

Severus turned his attention to the boy's work, and began instructing him on the proper techniques involved in the process.

&*&*&

“Daddy?” Stella said, around the mouthful of ice cream she masticated. Severus gave her a warning glare, so she quickly swallowed the portion, and then groaned. “Ow, now I've got an ice cream headache.”

Joseph Pony snorted, “That's what you get for being such a piglet, squirt.”

“Mr. Red Horse,” Severus said in a warning tone over the top of the front section of The Wizarding Oklahoman, the statewide equivalent of the Daily Prophet. His day had been a long one, and his hand still hurt from his inattention of the morning. He just wished for a quiet afternoon without histrionics or bickering.

Miss DuPre placed her wand against Stella's temple, muttering in the Cajun dialect that was her native language. Once through, she asked the younger girl, “All better, little sister?”

Stella beamed and nodded as she placed her spoon in the bowl of melting Neapolitan ice cream. American ice cream was too sweet for Severus' taste by far. The girl began again. “Daddy, you know how you said I could ask you anything?”

Severus nodded, giving a non-committal grunt as he read an article about the future of exotic, magical creature farming in the States. Imported Boomslang prices might be dropping if the Department of Agriculture’s Magical Division eased certain restrictions. Senate hearings so far had been favourable for the importation of certain relatively non-dangerous creatures. Severus was hopeful about the Boomslang issue. If the snakes were made more plentiful, many Potions that were truly helpful might be made more affordable to produce and thus to sell. He said absently, “Yes, my dear.”

“Well, I was wondering when I'm going to get my period.”

Joseph Pony slammed his spoon down into his own bowl of ice cream in disgust. “Gross, Stella.”

Severus carefully folded the paper he held, buying time. He levelled a stern look at her. “My dear, what did I impart to you about the appropriateness of certain questions in mixed company?”

Stella looked chagrined. “I should think about other's feelings on a subject before I speak... But, now that I've asked, can you answer my question?”

Imp, pure and simple, Severus thought as he ground his teeth in an effort not to reprimand her harshly in front of their guest. He had made that mistake a month ago, and had been soundly scolded by none other than Mari for his insensitivity. When Severus had complained about the elf's interference to his immediate supervisor, Dr. Dance, she had agreed with the Brownie and given him a text on parenting. He felt a definite headache settling at the base of his skull as he finally answered, “I think this conversation would be more appropriate without your cousin or Miss DuPre being privy to it. Do you not agree?”

“But Char's a girl, and Joseph Pony don't count.” Stella began swirling her spoon in the chocolate, strawberry and vanilla sludge. Severus tapped his fingers impatiently on the table, a sure sign of his mood. “But...”

“That's enough, Stella,” Joseph Pony cut in. “Can't ya just do one thing Mr. Tuvock asks without arguing? Uncle 'Rus, talk to her will ya, she's embarrassing.”

Charmaine DuPre's pacific expression never changed as she interjected, “I think it's time I left. J.P., why don't you walk me back to my house?”

She exited the kitchen, her graceful progress followed hungrily by the younger wizard's eyes. From the entryway she called, “I'm waiting.”

“We will discuss your interference at a later time, Mr. Red Horse.” Severus' tone was deadly, his eyes snapping darkly as he turned to Stella once more. “Now, Miss Cadeaux, I suggest we make an appointment to speak with Dr. Dance about your concerns.”

&*&*&

Being the youngest Head of House had its drawbacks. Severus had just encountered one. A sobbing second-year sat in his office, embarrassed beyond words about an incident that had just occurred in the common room. He patted her hand, striking it twice sharply before withdrawing his comfort. He had never been very good with females, especially when they were crying. He waited until the tears had abated and then enquired, in what he thought was a patient tone, “Now, Miss Watanabe, please explain to me, without the dramatics, what has occurred.”

“I... uhm... started… and didn't know it, sir.” Tears began leaking from the girl's eye again. “I made an awful mess in the common room.”

Severus flipped out the square of cotton he kept handy for such events now that he was Head of House and handed it to the girl, unsure why starting a project would cause such a reaction. “I do not understand; would a simple Evanesco be sufficient to cleanse the area affected?”

The girl rolled her eyes, blushing at the same time. “I did that, sir, but not before several of the older boys saw. They laughed.”

She burst into fresh sobs, blowing her nose into the handkerchief. Another casualty of the teenage trenches. Severus was growing impatient. He had essays to mark and a lesson plan to review. He barked irritably, “What project were you working on that would cause such derision? Please, do not tell me you were acting the Hufflepuff imbecile and making a Love Potion for one of the gentlemen in question. Detention, Miss Watanabe, for your sheer stupidity, will commence tomorrow under the auspices of Mr. Filch, if that is the case.”

“It wasn't a project... sir... I started. It was my first time and I didn't expect it.” With a sinking feeling, Severus realised the subject of the conversation. Severus shifted uncomfortably.

“I shall deal with the gentlemen involved in your plight; meanwhile, please remove yourself to the hospital wing. Madam Pomfrey should be able to answer any questions you might have and help you with the... accessories you might need.” Severus could feel a cold bead of sweat trickle down his back. He had coolly faced the Dark Lord as a spy, participated in crimes beyond imagining, and had been Cruciated too many times to count, but one girl and her menarche had him perspiring.

Why had Albus thought him equipped for the job as Head of House?

&*&*&

Severus approached Antonia's cottage that evening, surprised at the loud rock music that boomed from the open windows. He knocked hesitantly, looking through the small panes of the door into her house. She was waving her wand and dancing to the heavy beat of the band to which she listened. He knocked louder, after a moment, using wand work to amplify the sound. It echoed in his head, strangely reminiscent of something beyond his memory that he had heard during his Death Eater days.

He was before the Dark Lord. It was the day of his resurrection, and Severus was late to the soiree.

“Please, My Lord, punish me, certainly, but let me explain my tardiness to your summons.” Severus hated the whinging tone of his voice. He hated that he had to abase himself before the Monster and then show Albus once his ordeal was over. He was getting too old for this game.

Severus writhed in the dirt of the cemetery, his mouth filled with the muck stirred up by Tom's cauldron and Pettigrew's blood. He had not heard the curse, but certainly felt it. His bones ached and his nerve endings boiled while it lasted.

“Russell?” her voice said; Bellatrix was concerned, not mocking. Severus was indeed in danger. He flung his arms out, making contact with the bitch's flesh. She had always hated him. That was why she could not get his name right. He felt her scrabble back to him, her dirty fingers on his flesh, her claws drawing him to her soft breasts. Severus could do no more than convulse in her arms...

The curse ended only to be replaced by another and then another, each administered by a different hand. He lay in the mire long after his brethren had vacated the premises. When he was able, he found his wand, clutching it spasmodically. His only lifeline.

He vomited once, tasting blood and bile...

...and the ice cream he had sneaked from the afternoon. Bellatrix was screaming for help. What had he done to her? He was no idiot to mar the perfectly mad features of the Dark Lord's favourite whore. He convulsed once more, away from hands that were moving him into the dark cave of the Riddle House. Now the torture would truly begin.

“Ssseverusss, tell me of your ssservice to the Old Fool,” the Dark Lord commanded. Severus didn't know how, but he was still Occluding his mind. It had been so many years since...

“Lily died,” he moaned into Bellatrix's surprisingly smooth belly. Why was the Dark Lord's whore naked for him?

“Get my medical bag. It's in my bedroom in the closet,” she ordered, her voice less harsh than he remembered. Maybe prison had softened her nature. He could not remember her getting out. Surely complete incompetents did not run the Ministry.

After several hours of agony, Severus had Apparated to the boundaries of Hogwarts; he did not know how. Maybe Albus had made a Portkey for him and he was unaware of it. No... Tom would have known if his spy carried that... Severus felt movement, and then he was within the Castle, and was being transported through little-used corridors to the hospital wing. “Poppy, you know what...”

“...to do. Calming Draught, then Draught of Peace. My own in your stores... Treble strength. Made them when Potter said He returned. Blasted boy, couldn't follow simple instructions.”

But he knew it was no more Potter's fault than his that the Dark Lord had returned. It was Albus' fault for letting Potter stay in the contest. Now, The-Boy-Who-Lived would lead Severus to his painful death. He tasted blood again and spat. His entire body contracted with an agonising rictus, after-effects of the curses...

...that had been dealt him by the Monster's own hand. Pomfrey, his constant friend in these past years, knew of his dangerous game. Albus had needed her to patch his spy when he was broken and had inducted her in the Order. Just for you, Severus; he chuckled darkly at the thought. One more body to lie at his feet if she were discovered. He had never felt such anger toward the old man as now. Where had it come from? Severus was the one who had betrayed his only love. Severus was responsible for the horrors to come. Severus would kill him in the future. He knew that with a certainty that bordered on prescience. “I'm...”

“...sorry.” He vomited on Bella-turned-Poppy's belly. She smelled different through the acidic miasma, more womanly and less Old Ladyish.

“Turn him over; I have to give him an antiemetic.” Severus heard a slap of plastic against flesh, and then felt the pain of a needle in his arm.

“Fuck, Poppy, when did you turn into a Muggle?” His head swam, but the nausea abated.

Another needle and Poppy-who-used-to-be-Bella, muttered, “Haldol for the psychotic break. Don't worry, Joseph Pony. He'll be out for a while... I'll keep him here for the night.”

The world went black.



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