One wish alone have I

Chapter 13 (part 1)
And other full moons followed…

Remus and I agreed to keep our newly born relationship secret to most of the Order members, because neither of us knew where it would lead us. Tonks knew from the beginning, of course. Remus had said a word or two about his feelings for me during the nights before we became more intimate, and she had known my fondness for Remus as soon as she had seen the look on my face when she delivered his message by Floo. During the Order meetings we acted perfectly courteous and casual with each other, though I think that Dumbledore saw the sparkles in our eyes from the start. In the same way, Severus was not fooled either. I had pretty much unmasked myself when I popped my head in his office. To make things worse, the disgusted look I saw on his face as soon as he entered the Headquarters for the first meeting after Remus’ return informed me that he had the confirmation he needed. It was as if he could actually smell sex between the two of us, as if it oozed out of me through each pore of my skin. I was still too much on my cloud to care.

When Remus and I were alone in the house, however, it was another story. Remus had the idea, one evening, to have some kind of marathon in all the rooms of the house for the rest of the week. In a way, we did play hide and seek, never being sure when one of us would innocently walk in a corridor and be abruptly grabbed and pulled into a room somewhere by the other. I think we visited every single place in the house (including the hall closet… and the staircases… all the staircases) from the basement to the attic, though we did not really linger in the latter; its inhabitant was not really cooperative.

Shortly after, however, the date I dreaded the most arrived, unfortunately. November 27th… Arnaud’s death anniversary. I had warned Remus that I usually spent the night completely alone in my room, remembering the events surrounding his burial, meditating and trying to find some peace in my mind and heart. It was the first time since 1979 that I was so close to England on that night. I was too scared to risk reliving distressing memories by spending the night doing anything other than what I was accustomed to.

“Where is Arnaud buried?” Remus asked me softly, to my surprise, as if he had been listening to my thoughts.

“Under an apple tree in a pasture near Watford, on the top of a small hill. Why do you ask?”

“Well… don’t you think it would be nice to go there this year, for a change? How long has it been since the last time you visited his grave?”

“Seventeen years,” I immediately answered. “I have never returned to his grave after his death, Remus.”

“Watford is very close from here, Tasia, close enough for us to fly there. If you want, I could come with you…” he suggested.

I first thought of declining his offer. First of all, going there after all these years seemed terribly scary to me. And there was the fact that it would be strange to go to my late husband’s grave with another man… a lycanthropic, in addition.

“I really do not know, Remus… I appreciate your offer, I really do… just let me think about it, ok?” I finally answered, curling up even more closely against his chest and shoulder.

“No problem, Tasia,” he replied, putting light kisses on my forehead. “Take all the time you need; we still have three nights before his anniversary.”

But three nights later, a bit after two in the morning, Remus took me on his broom and we flew to Watford together. I had come to the conclusion that I did need someone at my side to give me some support for that difficult pilgrimage. Asking Remus, who had been there night and day for me practically since my arrival in England, made perfect sense to me.

We landed in the upper part of the street where Arnaud and I had last lived. It was in a Muggle quarter, of course, and it had not really changed much in seventeen years. The streets were as calm as ever at that time of the night. As we walked towards my last apartment, holding each other by the waist, I smiled again at the old familiar sights I remembered. All windows were dark; Muggles were all in bed by that time. Even the windows behind which I could find Ivantie, Niculaie and Marcela before were deprived of any trace of light. I congratulated myself for having allowed Remus to come with me when I saw this. I would have felt terribly alone.

My first disappointment, however, was the street itself. It had been changed and covered with Muggle modern material called “asphalt”, so the adorable little stones that covered the street before were all gone. Arnaud and I had chosen that particular street because of its old-fashioned look that reminded us so much of Marseilles.

After a few minutes of a slow and silent walk, only broken by my occasional comments about the memories that came back to me, we arrived in front of my old apartment. From the first look, it was obvious that Muggles inhabited it; the flowerboxes were hanging at the windows without any form of magic. All the flowers were dead and partly frozen; it gave the place a dreadful look. But then November is always like that, after the glory of the autumn leaves is gone. I secretly hoped that they would think of replacing those lugubrious flowerboxes with merrier decorations, when Christmas time came.

Remus gently suggested that we should sit on the sidewalk and conceal ourselves with a Disillusionment Charm, which I accepted. He did not really ask too many questions, but I felt at ease telling him about the life Arnaud and I lived, at the time. About how we made a living with little jobs like giving French, Spanish and even Romanian lessons to Muggles during the evenings. We did not have much, but we tried to be content with what we had; it was supposed to be temporary anyway.

After a long silence, I told Remus about Arnaud’s last mission. I had told him about it to explain my very strong reaction to his tardiness earlier in the month, but not in detail. Remus listened respectfully about how I found the bag and took care of my husband before I walked out with his body. Curiously, telling that infernal tale yet one more time did not make me cry or even feel sad. It truly felt liberating to be there with that particular wizard, listening to me and stroking my hand, my back, my cheek, just enough to make me feel his comforting presence without being intrusive in the experience I was reliving.

When we came to the burial part of the story, we rose to our feet once again and removed the Disillusionment Charm. We walked in silence, hand in hand this time, until the pasture and the hill were in view. The sight was the same; the apple tree had grown even bigger since that night and it looked truly majestic in the early morning, despite the fact that it had lost all its leaves. I had chosen well; Arnaud did deserve this peaceful yet splendid resting place. To my relief, I saw that nobody had changed anything there. The pasture was empty of any trace of civilization.

“Remus… if you do not mind… I would like to go there alone first…”

“Of course, Tasia,” he answered, squeezing my hand. “I will wait right here. Just wave if you want me to come, and take all the time you need.”

I slowly walked towards the apple tree, feeling in a deep meditative state. It made my senses particularly sharp and sensitive, however. When I was a few dozen feet from the top, I felt my body going through a magical field. I did not remember putting any protective field around the hill, but blamed my distraught state of mind for that missing detail in my memory and did not really pay attention. Nevertheless, as I kept walking and reached the top of the hill I saw, to my total astonishment, that the downside of the hill under which Arnaud was buried was still completely covered with hundreds of white lilies. They were absolutely breathtaking; their whiteness was almost unreal and clashed strikingly with the darkness of the night.

Seeing that I had found something that had made quite an impact on me, Remus walked quickly to me. I turned to him with a bewildered expression.

“The charm should have been broken, by now, I do not understand,” I said, pointing the flowers.

“You did this? They are beautiful, Tasia!” he answered, walking to the nearest flowers and picking a lily most delicately. “The charm is nearly perfect, they really feel like real ones!” he added, handing me the flower he held in his hands.

As soon as it touched my hands, I knew. The vibe that passed in the flower I held was definitely not the result of my magic. I caressed the petals with my fingertips, trying to figure out whose magic it was, but my mind was much too distressed to think or feel the answer I was looking for.

“I did cover Arnaud’s tomb with lilies, Remus… but though I made the Charm particularly strong, it is impossible that it lasted for so long; I made it strong enough to last about a year. Somebody came here and renewed the Charm… it is the same one, though it did not come from the same person…”

“You think someone came here and Charmed his grave every year since 1979?”

“Every year, I do not know… but this year, most definitely…” I said, as my eyes dreamily looked over Remus’ shoulder.

Behind him, many yards away in the pasture, I saw the outline of a man in the pale first rays of the morning sun. He was walking fast and steady, and yet he looked like he just glided on the frozen ground. His black robes and cloak were billowing behind him. I wondered why he had not chosen to just Apparate his way back to Hogsmeade, but I concluded that in fact, he felt no need to rush. He probably never saw us and only wanted to take a short walk before going back to the school.

Nevertheless, just like the Great Dragon had showed me, the lycanthropic had given me the white lily and this time, I had spontaneously accepted it. Its symbolic and spiritual meaning for the slow recovery from my seventeen years of mourning had its influence on me the second my fingers touched the fresh flower. I never told Remus about Severus’ presence in the pasture, however. The latter was already far away and I doubted that Remus would appreciate Severus’ presence interrupting a moment that was just between him and me so far.

Nonetheless, my thoughts did linger at Severus’ side in the morning mist before he Disapparated in a faint crack that Remus heard at once, and forgot as fast. I tried not to have high hopes about the motives for Severus’ wonderful gesture. I told myself that, if he had indeed come only that year to renew the Charm knowing that I would probably visit Arnaud’s grave that night, it showed at least that he wanted to please me, for a reason that I could not really put my finger on, but was sensitive to. If, on the other hand, he had come each year as Remus had suggested, the implications were deeper and even more surprising. It was then, probably, made out of guilt… and guilt suggested the presence of a conscience… which in turn suggested that Severus Snape, boastful British Potions Master, indeed had a heart.

Remus left me alone for a while and chose to respectfully wait for me at the bottom of the hill. To my surprise, I did not have much to tell Arnaud. He and I had always been very close during our marriage and I did not really have any secrets to share. In addition, I had talked to him so often after his death that I had nothing on my mind to tell him, really. I chose to sit down and lean my back against the tree. When there is nothing to say, there is always much to feel, so I just slowed down my breathing and channelled all the perceptions I got from my senses to my soul.

Dawn was particularly beautiful that morning. The light played delicately with the flowers in front of me, just like the wind made them wave on their stems. I had believed them to be gone and yet there they were, Charmed to last through all four seasons by other hands other than mine. It struck me then that I had ignored one of the strongest principles in which I believe, nothing truly disappears in the cycle of life and death. All one has to do is look in the proper place to find what traces are left or how they have changed. Similarly, Arnaud’s death had only been a part of his life and a passage to another one. And I had spent most of the last seventeen years mourning over something that had only been a very small portion of all that Arnaud was. I was not doing him justice; I was not doing the Goddess justice either and understanding that somewhat made me feel better. I let all the bad memories of the days surrounding his death just slide from my heart and soul into the ground, rejoining his earthy tomb where they belonged.

When I walked back to Remus, I charmed the lily to hold a lock of my hair and smiled most genuinely. My feet felt lighter than they had felt since last time they had touched that blessed ground. As soon as I came close to him, I held out my arms and clung onto him in a tight embrace.

“Remus, what you have done for me tonight was the greatest gift you could ever give me. I have found peace at last, my dearest,” I said, taking his lovely face between my hands.

He smiled and kissed me very tenderly. It was with his hand holding mine against his heart that we rose to the sky on his broom and went back home. The following evening, after dinner, I rose from my seat and put a record on the old record player. When he heard the first notes, his eyes glittered with joy and hope. I held out my hand and silently asked him to dance. Pressing my cheek against his, I murmured the lyrics in his ear, along with the music…

“Good night, my love… the tired old moon is descending…”

~*~

Shortly before full moon, in the beginning of December, Severus popped his head in the fireplace to inform me that the Dark Lord had summoned me for a meeting. Even if he usually managed to avoid coming to Grimmauld Place in person since our previous dinner together, he nevertheless still had the most tactless knack to interrupt something and embarrass me. Even now, I could swear that the wizard has a sixth sense that allows him to know precisely when it is inappropriate to put his nose somewhere… and he never hesitates to exploit its full potential. It was to the point that neither of us dared to do any of those things you do when you are all by yourself, when we were sitting in front of that fireplace. Remus, for example, had the particularly unpleasant surprise one afternoon to have Severus’ face materialize inches from his just when he was blowing his particularly uncooperative nose.

That particular evening, I remember Remus and I got somewhat carried away by a swing song while doing the dishes. Remus flung the towel over his shoulder, turned the volume up on the record player and Summoned me to his arms, which projected foam and bubbles everywhere on the floor between the kitchen and the dining room. We danced a little and I realised that not only was Remus a swing music connoisseur, he was also a very good and energetic swing dancer as well. He made me do simple steps at first and, seeing that I followed him well, attempted bolder moves. He wrapped my arms around his neck and lifted me by the waist, swinging my legs on each of his thighs. I was completing the figure, wrapping my legs around his waist when sure enough, a loud pop and a baritone voice put an immediate end to the fun. Remus almost dropped me on the floor in surprise.

“I do not have all night, Lupin,” he moodily began. “Please stop your weird full-moon-calibre foreplay and turn that down.”

“You know what, Severus?” I said, getting my legs back on the floor and laughing with the excitement that still lightened my eyes and flushed my cheeks. “It is called dancing… you should try it from time to time; it would help you loosen up. In fact why don’t you get Minerva and come here? We would have quite a party together,” I continued with a teasing smile, crashing on the loveseat in front of him.

“I can understand that sitting around there all night long does not allow you to figure it out, but some people do work, you know,” he flatly replied.

“Have it your way, Severus, fine!” I retorted, scowling at his lack of humour. “What brings your head here?”

“You are summoned for a meeting tomorrow night. Be at the usual place at 7:30 pm sharp.”

“Do you have any idea about the reason for this meeting?” I asked.

“Some. But I do not want to discuss them here,” he quickly said.

“You are right. Other than that, how are you doing?”

“Have a good night, Antanasia,” he replied, before disappearing into the flames.

“Charming as ever,” said Remus, sliding his warm hands around my neck and down my cleavage. “But unless I am mistaken… the odds of him Flooing us twice in the same evening are very, very low, don’t you think?”

And before I could give him my opinion, he had slipped both of his hands into my robes and covered my mouth with his. I think that, for the hour or so that followed, the thought of being interrupted by Severus or any other Order member for that matter, had its thrilling side…

The following evening, Severus and I made our usual trip to the dark back store near Diagon Alley. Severus informed me that the Dark Lord probably wanted me to spy on guard shifts in Azkaban, given their increased efforts to organize an escape. The fact that the Ministry publicly recognised his return had its disadvantages, after all. He did not need to hide his actions as much, but had much more than the Order members against him and watching him, on the other hand.

Indeed, the Dark Lord gave me my first mission that night. I was to observe the Ministry and Order members who were posted in Azkaban and note if there was any shift routine. I was also to see if the Dementors really acted in the Dark Lord’s advantage by refraining themselves from feeding on Death Eater prisoners too often. I was not to have contact with any Death Eater or Dementors, however; I was not trusted enough for that.

My mission targeted only information that I could easily gather from Order members who were posted in Azkaban. At first, I thought I would simply have to meet with Tonks (who had bought Remus and me a few drinks in a lovely pub in London two weeks before) and prepare a report for the Dark Lord. Severus informed me, once we were back on Diagon Alley, that Voldemort planned to have me followed by Bellatrix Lestrange in order to make sure that I was worthy of his trust. That mission was a real one because he did need that information, but it was also a test. Severus told me that I even had to manage to be seen by Bellatrix so she would testify that I had indeed got all that information by myself. He seemed a bit tired when we parted. I tried to tempt him with a drink at the Leaky Cauldron, but he declined my offer, telling me once more that he had work to do in Hogwarts. I secretly hoped that it was only the exams that made him look as pale as me.

Tonks spent the rest of the evening with Remus and me at the Headquarters, making plans for my observation week in Azkaban. She opted to fake a very regular guard shift program, not too strikingly different from the usual one, but enough to make the Dark Lord believe that shifts changed at relatively fixed and regular times. We also thought it best, for that very reason, to keep Mundungus Fletcher busy elsewhere during that particular week and assign only Order members that were already known by Voldemort. Alastor Moody was one of them… and so was Remus. I loathed the idea, especially because we were so close to full moon again, but I did not really have objective reasons to argue.

The week I spent, perched here and there over Azkaban cells, was first of all uneventful and therefore, very boring. Bellatrix used a splendid Disillusionment Charm; I did not see her during the first half of the week and even started to worry about her not seeing me when I finally got a glimpse of her behind a tree one morning when we both broke our Charms and Apparated to our respective homes. I thanked my condition for being able to Apparate back home as soon as the morning came; I missed Remus’ transformation but could at least console myself by taking care of him the following morning, exactly like the previous month, minus my clothes.

At the end of the week, I made my report to the Dark Lord, who seemed thoroughly bored; he obviously had heard everything I said from Bellatrix during the week. I pronounced Remus’ and Alastor’s names with enough indifference to avoid rising any suspicions, fortunately. Overall, I think that the Dark Lord was satisfied with my report because he granted me a second mission. I was given a minuscule roll of parchment with a message for his Death Eaters with the task to fly to each prisoner and let them briefly read it. The message assured them that he was still going to defend those who believed in him and that they would be freed within the next few months, when he would have gathered enough of his old more distant followers or would have recruited new ones. He told me that the Dementors would lift a few protective charms on these cells in order for me to fly through the bars without being blocked out or hurt.

The filthy creatures kept their word, at least; I flew through the first set of bars quite easily and Mister Moody, who was on guard that night, saw who I was and acted as if he had not noticed anything. I bet he followed each of my flights through the back of his head, however. The Death Eaters’ cells were easy to recognize; Azkaban guards had regrouped all prisoners in one aisle of the prison where all windows opened on a deadly cliff. The Charms and Spells were so numerous and powerful around it that I could feel them vibrate in the air. I did as quickly as I could, flowing through the bars of each cell and pressing each man with a few strokes of my beak, which made me have to plunge a couple of times to avoid a nasty hit. Most of them did not react too strongly; they were mostly depressed and grumpy. Three of them cried like little girls and kissed the parchment feverishly before they gave it back to me. After visiting half of them I was already completely depressed; such a miserable display of human weakness and lack of conscience or personal will was simply pathetic to see.

One of these men was a bit different from the others, however. He most brutally grabbed me by the neck as soon as I was in his reach; I had Transfigured into a discreet pigeon and felt his long slender fingers wrap around my whole body in a suffocating grip. It took him ages to untie the message from my leg and read it. Nevertheless, I patiently waited on the ground for when he would pick me up again and let me leave, mentally cursing myself for having chosen a Transfiguration form that had to wiggle its head with each and every step. If this wizard’s hair had been properly washed and tossed away from his face, I am not sure he would have been alive when I flew through his cell door on my way out. I prefer not to go too far in my hypotheses anyway. Different actions from me would have changed the course of many lives other than my own.

As I flew out of the prison by the last man’s cell window and passed over the roof, I got a glimpse of Severus, hidden behind the prison grounds gates. He motioned me to land on his shoulder and, as soon as my claws touched the fabric of his cloak, he hissed, “Do not Transfigure here. Remain in the form you are.”

“Is there something wrong, Severus? Why are you here?” I asked worrisomely.

“I am here for many reasons. How did it go?” he shortly replied.

“I think Moody saw me, but he acted like he did not. I delivered the message to the occupants of all identified cells. The Dementors did go easy on them; they all kept their minds, if you can call that a proper mental state. Three of them cried profusely… one was rather brutal with me, but other than that, there is nothing to report.”

“Good,” he commented. “And after seeing them… are you ok?” he tentatively asked.

“Yes, of course! Is there something I should worry about?”

“No. I just wanted to check on you,” he replied, and then continued more formally, “the Dark Lord sent me to watch your activities and return the parchment to him. By all means, do not read it. Let me Apparate us to the Headquarters and I will remove it myself from your leg, it will be safer.”

A heartbeat later, we were in the gloomy antechamber again. Severus removed the tiny roll from my leg and I Transfigured back into myself. We did not have the occasion to speak, obviously, but I soon had the answer for his strange behaviour.

The Dark Lord snatched the parchment from Severus’ hand even before he had time to straighten up from his bow and felt it between his long fingers. Once he seemed satisfied with his tactile probe, he approached it from his face and pressed it against his thin dry lips, sniffing it most displeasingly like a dog on a trail. His red and deadly glance seemed lost somewhere above Severus’ head and mine, but his eyes were glittering fiercely. In a word, he was on the hunt.

I looked on my right. Bellatrix and McNair were sitting at their usual places and so was Pettigrew. All were excited and Pettigrew barely refrained from squeaking his own excitement, grinning like a child on Christmas morning and rubbing his hands together in expectation. After a few trying minutes, the Dark Lord took a deep breath and smiled. It was even worse than his usual expression, to be honest, and far more frightening. I clenched my teeth and waited.

“It is just as I thought…” he finally declared, looking at each of us in turn. “Most of my servants remain at my side even during the worst of times. But some were not able to take a few months in Azkaban and their faith has suffered…” he added, darkly.

“Who, my Lord? Who has betrayed you?” squeaked Pettigrew.

“The very same two we suspected, Wormtail,” he explained, as if talking to a stupid child. “I have had doubts since the moment they finally found the courage to come and face me after my glorious return. McNair, come here.”

“What can I do to serve you, my Lord,” said the horrible man, bowing in front of his master.

“You know the two we are talking about. They do not deserve to be named; they do not even deserve to exist now that they have betrayed me. Do what is necessary… put a Silencing Charm on the cells and… take your time,” he articulated, his eyes shining sadistically and his teeth bare.

“I will do as you request, my Lord,” answered McNair, before he left the room.

“Your help has been valuable, Antanasia,” he added, chilling me to the bone. “It allowed me to… clean the lot before I move the earth and sky to take them out of their hole. I will certainly ask for your services again, but that will be all for tonight.”

Not knowing if I had to say something or not, and certainly too horrified to give him any verbal appreciation for his gratefulness, I just bowed and took leave, with Severus walking silently behind me. My mind was racing crazily as we walked to the Disapparating spot at the end of the corridor. But my emotions were still far too frozen by the Dark Lord’s words to grab his shoulders and cling to him for physical warmth, so I gravely leaned my arms on his shoulders and let him Disapparate us back to London.

We walked in silence to Diagon Alley and, once more, I was grateful for Severus’ eloquent silence in such situations. But as I said, inside of me, things were either whirling madly or they seemed frozen. It is only when we found ourselves in front of our usual separation spot, in front of the Leaky Cauldron, that I could finally drag him into a deserted little street and articulate what was troubling me so much.

“Severus… two men are going to be tortured and murdered tonight… because of me…” I whispered, looking at an approximate point between two of the countless buttons of his frock coat.

“Do not say that,” he whispered back in his silky voice, sending little clouds of mist under my bent face. “Tonight, two Death Eaters are going to die because they were stupid enough to believe that they would have a merciful Master when they enrolled.”

“What was on the parchment roll I brought them?” I asked, still looking down and frowning for myself.

“The very message he told you about. Except that when they read and touched it, they left an emotional imprint on it. Their reaction told a great deal about their faith in the Dark Lord and their devotion to him. He had doubts about two of them… and his doubts were confirmed tonight.”

“Then I did practically kill them, when I flew into their cells…” I concluded, closing my eyes.

“Look at me, Antanasia…” he asked, rather firmly though he was still whispering. “It is not the first nor the last time you will witness things like this. It is the way he works; he does not forgive any mistake. Some have severe consequences, like betrayal. Some have lighter ones, but nothing is left unpunished.”

“And you got used to it?” I asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Of course not. You never get used to that. But I do suggest you set your mind on the expectation that it will happen again and try to… shield yourself against it. It would not be the first time you shield your emotions against something, right?” he asked, in a strangely convinced tone.

“It would not indeed…” I answered.

“I have to go back to my office, now. I can still mark a few papers if I hurry,” he announced. “If you need to talk about it more, you know where to find me.”

“Thank you,” I replied, still frowning. “Good night.”

“Good night.”

And after a courteous nod, he was gone. I flew my way back to the Headquarters once again, feeling the need to let the wind and cold night’s air wash away a bit of all the difficult emotions that tormented me after the evening’s events. I tried not to think about what was probably already happening in Azkaban and chose to focus on all the things that were waiting for me at home. A warm fire… a glass of Leukoscotch and a pair of welcoming arms. It brought some joy back into my heart. And yet even if my dear Remus did his best to cheer me up and make me forget about the evening’s events, a question remained in my mind and prevented him from completely comfort comforting me. That question stayed on my mind for several nights and one evening, as Remus was gone on a guard shift (he did them more regularly as I was better settled in the house), I went to the only person that could answer it and bring me some peace of mind.

“Hogwarts, Severus Snape’s office!” I spoke, sticking my head in the fireplace.

His face snapped up above his desk when he heard me pop my head in his office. He looked extremely irritated to be disturbed like that, but when he saw my face, a bit of his irritation changed for concerned curiosity.

“Good evening, Antanasia,” he said, in a tired voice. “What is it?”

“Good evening, Severus. Am I interrupting something important?” I genuinely asked, eying the piles of parchment rolls that covered his desk and two chairs in front of it. “I do not want to disturb your work if you have something urgent to do.”

“Is there a problem at the Headquarters?” he asked. “Or perhaps Lupin ran away once more?” he added, with an ironic smile.

“Nothing of the sort, Severus. I just wanted to talk to you about something. But I see that you are overloaded with work…”

“I am. The recent meetings and the coming of the Christmas holidays gave me some extra work. I have some catching up to do,” he explained, waving the feathery end of his quill in the direction of the parchment rolls in front of him.

“Can I offer my help?” I tentatively asked, seeing the rapidly growing shadows under his eyes.

“Dumbledore pays me to do this job; I can hardly see how you marking my students’ papers would be appropriate. Besides, you have no reason to do this for me.”

“I would not do this for you, on the contrary,” I lied. “I would do it for me… it would allow me to buy some conversation time with you. What do you say? Can the rest of me come in?”

“Well, at least do not just stand there!” he said, waving me to Floo the rest of my body into his office. “Has Lupin become that boring for you to pop in my office unexpectedly like that?”

“Leave it, Severus,” I replied, with a hint of annoyance in my voice. “Remus has not become the centre of my existence in such a short time and you know it. For one thing, he occupies the most part of it simply because we are more or less trapped in the Headquarters all night long.”

“I thought this seclusion would suit you,” he commented, duplicating his armchair and Summoning the copy to the front of his desk.

“Then you know little of my nature,” I replied, with a sad smile. “What is all this?”

“Assignments. First years, fourth years and… sixth years,” he added, with a particularly disgusted scowl.

“Do you want me to help with those, then?” I suggested. “When are they due?”

“Tomorrow afternoon; I give a double lesson,” he answered.

“Wow… and you make it feel like a Death Eater meeting.”

He snorted.

“If you ask me, there are times when I would prefer a Death Eater meeting, in fact, when it comes to that particular lesson.”

“What is so terrible in it?” I asked, getting more and more curious.

“The students in it are… difficult. Not those of my House, mind you, but the Gryffindor ones are rather trying. One of them, Miss Granger, never misses a chance to display the extent of her knowledge; an arrogant little brat, really. And of course there is Longbottom, who would have blown the dungeons many times each year if it had not been for my constant and tight surveillance.”

“Is he that bad?” I asked, feeling sorry for that young man who had already began to win my heart.

“Bad does not even begin to describe him. It is a wonder that he is still taking my classes… those fools at the O.W.L. examinations let him pass. Since then, I do believe in miracles…” he grumpily explained.

“I can understand why lessons are trying, then…” I commented, trying to be empathic.

“Do not misunderstand me; all of that could be close to tolerable if it were not for another student, who unfortunately is part of that specific group. Potter… I believe I mentioned him during my speech in Zaharia.”

“You mean the boy who defeated the Dark Lord?” I asked, a bit startled.

“Please do not give him more credit than he deserves. You stood in front of the Dark Lord; does he seem defeated to you?”

“No, of course not.”

“But that young man is a real nightmare… always trying to draw to himself… always trying to manage a new way to shine through silly acts of bravery… an arrogant fool, just like his father was…” he continued through clenched teeth, while I discerned a vein pulsing rapidly on his temple.

“Remus told me many things about him… he had to face quite a number of traumatic things, though…” I replied, believing foolishly that there would be a way for me to argue him into a smoother attitude.

“Oh, if Lupin talked to you, then… no wonder you fail to see things the way they are!” he snapped, before he ragingly grabbed his quill and went back to the parchment in front of him.

“Severus, do not be mad, please,” I said, as softly as I could, moving my hand closer to his arm across the desk. “Remus also told me about Harry’s volatile temper that has lasted over a year. From what he told me, he seems difficult to manage at times and I am sure he must be trying indeed in class, on some occasions. Honestly, I would find it tricky to be his teacher; it must not be easy every night.”

A weird sound between a growl and a sigh was his only answer.

“What do you say, about the assignments?” I tentatively asked.

Severus put his quill down and put both of his hands on his face, rubbing his eyes that were probably itching with fatigue. Letting out a long sigh and leaning his cheek lazily against his hand, he looked for several minutes at the piles and piles of parchment rolls that were surrounding us, debating whether or not he should accept my offer. When he finally seemed to reach a decision, he let out another heavy sigh and plunged his dark eyes in mine. They had lost some of their coldness; they reflected his exhaustion a bit more and made him look very pleasingly human.

“You really want to help me mark papers tonight? You did not come for that…”

“I did not, but I suggested a deal, if I remember correctly,” I said, with a faint smile. “I help you mark and in exchange it buys me some conversation time with you in front of the fireplace. That is a fair proposition, I think.”

Severus leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms and legs, just like he had done in the Leaky Cauldron. He said nothing but looked at me with a calculating expression.

“I will not beg, Severus,” I said, with a little smile. “I am obviously interrupting you in the middle of a big workload, so just tell me if I should leave or not; whichever is fine with me! I can come back another evening!”

“Here… you can begin with the first years…” he calmly explained after a small groan that was probably meant to sound a bit reluctant, for the form. “They had to write about how to find, preserve and prepare five ingredients of their choice. We covered the chapter about Asian fungi this week; that should not be overly beyond your intellectual capacities to mark them. I marked a few in the pile; you can base your marks on the ones I read.”

“Sure, I can manage that…”

“When you feel like banging your head out of boredom against some hard surface, and believe me, it will happen within the next hour,” he continued as seriously as he had begun, which made me smile broader, “please just do not use the desk; you might spill some ink somewhere.”

“I will try to refrain myself, I promise,” I giggled.

“Help yourself, then…” he concluded, before bending over the paper he was marking when I came in.

I began reading a few of the papers he had marked and the first thing that struck me was how short his comments were. He usually did not really take the time to explain much about students’ mistakes; he merely underlined them with a sharp line and wrote the correct answer above. Those papers did not have any positive comments anywhere and the marks were rather severe. The third parchment roll I read, however, had all the correct mistakes pointed out, but to my surprise, he actually wrote encouragements at the bottom of the page and the marks were a tad higher for the relatively similar amount of mistakes. Seeing that I compared two parchments for a few minutes, looking puzzled, Severus asked me the names of the two students.

“Ah… well, what would you expect; a Hufflepuff and a Slytherin… the comparison naturally favours the latter, obviously.”

I smiled, but did not comment on his explanation, thinking that it was rather the Head of House that naturally favoured the latter… but then, from what I had seen of him during the Quidditch match, he did seem to have the success of his Slytherins at heart and I tried to look at it as a quality rather than as an inappropriate bias.

I read all the papers he marked and tried to figure out his correction criteria. I started reading unmarked papers and remembered my first years at Hogwarts. All those concepts and facts were so familiar by now that I had somewhat forgotten that they were not common knowledge and actually had to be learned at some point. Some students made a lot of grammatical mistakes and made my reading more trying. But others had obviously put some effort in their work and I did not hesitate to write positive comments when I felt it was deserved. We marked papers in silence for about an hour before Severus rose from his seat.

“I am going to Floo the elves for some tea. Do you want anything?” he asked, walking to the fireplace.

“I am fine, thank you.”

“Have you had dinner tonight?” he insisted.

“I did not… it is still only ten in the evening; I usually dine towards eleven,” I answered.

“As you wish,” he replied. “Just make sure you do not starve yourself too much; I do not want to end up slicing my wrists again to suit your needs. Tea and biscuits, my office!” he ordered, throwing the powder in the fireplace before he came back and sat at his desk.

My eyes remained fixed on the paper I had in front of me. I had almost forgotten his gesture and realised that I had never properly thanked him for it.

“Severus… what you did that morning was a very noble thing to do.”

“I did the only logical thing to do; there is nothing noble in that,” he retorted, looking down at the paper he was marking.

His eyes were not moving either.

“I mean it, Severus,” I insisted, sliding my hand a bit forward on the desk and lifting my face up. “It took courage to do something like that… I never really thanked you for it, but I did appreciate your gesture. Thank you, very much.”

“You are welcome, then. But it was nothing, really,” he concluded, giving me a quick grave glance before going back to his work.

We kept working for an additional hour, only interrupted by the elf who knocked at the door to deliver his tea and biscuits. I discreetly remained hidden behind the door while he retrieved the platter and brought it to his desk. Twenty minutes or so before midnight, I had almost finished the first years’ assignments (without feeling the need to bang my head anywhere). Severus stretched and massaged his fingers and hand that was sore from holding a quill for so many hours in a row. I suspected his back was stiff and hurting, too, from the way he uncomfortably switched his weight on his seat a few times.

“Antanasia, it is getting a bit late. I think we should stop here,” he suggested.

“As you wish… have I earned my payment?” I asked, with a smile at the corner of my lips.

“I believe so… but a small one, if you do not mind,” he replied, holding out his hand in the direction of the fireplace.

We both sat in comfortable leather armchairs, just like we had after the night we had spent in the Forbidden forest about a month previously. This time, however, I carefully chose my seat and avoided sitting on his armchair. The questions I wanted to ask him were not easy ones and I did not want him to be in an irritable mood.

“What did you want to tell me about?” he asked, crossing his legs comfortably in front of the fire that crackled joyfully.

“It is about the conversation we had… in front of the Leaky Cauldron. You said that I could come to you if I needed to talk about it.”

“You are having second thoughts about your involvement in the Order?” he guessed, rising an eyebrow.

“No, nothing of the kind,” I answered, shaking my head. “What you told me about having the expectation that the Dark Lord severely punishes his followers for the mistakes they make…. It got me thinking about you.”

“About me?” he said, sounding a bit surprised.

“Yes. You told me, when we were in Zaharia, that you had to perform an Unforgivable Curse for the Dark Lord as a part of the Dark Mark ritual. From what you said, that particular mission involved turning one of these curses against me.”

“You are correct,” he commented, in a very grave voice.

“Yet as we both know, you never threw any of these curses at me… and paid the consequences for it. But how did you complete the ritual, then? Surely the Dark Lord did not let you get away with that failure.”

“Of course not,” he bitterly retorted. “What exactly do you want to know?”

“I want to know if you have ever murdered someone for the Dark Lord,” I articulated, very slowly.

A long silence followed my words. I think he was expecting my question, but he wanted to take some time to ponder his answer. He crossed his arms over his chest once more and, huffing deeply in what sounded like exhaustion, he turned his head towards the fire and got lost in his thoughts. They were not pleasant ones; the austere line between his eyebrows became even deeper than usual and his lips were firmly pressed together.

“When Dumbledore asked me that very question, I was much younger than I am now. It took him a while to obtain a clear answer from me, but he finally got it… and here I am, Potions Master and Head of Slytherin in Hogwarts. So what I told him must not have been that horrifying to hear. That night, I remember it very well, his only comment was that I was a living example that a man is greater than the sum of his actions.”

“I agree with him…” I commented, waiting for a more precise answer.

“But you still want to know,” he said, after a short silence. “Why would you want to know that?”

“I have not really asked myself that question, Severus… I guess I am just trying to… adjust my expectations, just like you suggested,” I replied, which made him snort.

“I am not one of the Dark Lord’s executioners, if that can reassure you,” he finally said, uncrossing his arms and leaning against one of his armrests. “The Dark Lord would lose a valuable spy in Hogwarts if I got caught on such a mission. He tries to keep me involved only in missions that will preserve my relatively good social status. I am more… useful to him that way.”

“I see,” I replied, expecting that this would be his final answer but feeling a bit relieved all the same.

“It does not mean, however,” he continued, to my surprise, “that I have never done reprehensible things in his service. Very reprehensible things.”

“Well in that case,” I said, after looking at the dancing flames for several minutes, “I will rely on Dumbledore’s good words of wisdom.”

“If you tell me that my answer surprised you, I will laugh at you openly,” he warned.

“I did not say that,” I corrected, looking back calmly at him. “I did not say that you look like a murderer either; that would be false. So no, I am not surprised.”

“What are you, then?” he asked, rising a curious eyebrow.

“Relieved.”

“Relieved? Why?”

“Because you are indeed more than the sum of your actions. Your eyes have seen more ugly things than many cainites see in their entire afterlife, yet you can still appreciate beauty when you see it. As long as that part is left untouched, I can assume that Dumbledore’s words will stay true.”

“I had not looked at things this way…” he thoughtfully commented.

“Just as you have probably never seen the killer in me… and yet there is one,” I declared.

“I would not qualify feeding behaviours like murders!”

“I am not talking about feeding, Severus…”

“You? No, I cannot believe it!” he exclaimed in disbelief.

“Oh yes…. Just like you, I am no executioner, but I did kill other cainites during the wars the Clan was involved in. I usually managed not to, but it did happen, either on spying missions or during open confrontations…”

“But the context was different! We are not talking about specific targets here…” he argued. “And soldier usually accepts the fact that there are casualties in all wars…”

“And what if I told you that sometimes, a part of me enjoyed it?” I stated, very gravely.

“That I can understand…” he said, after a pause. “But I would also wonder why you are telling me that…”

“I sense that I gave you a wrong impression, after the last Death Eaters’ meeting. I want you to know that I did not make the decision to attend those meetings at your side lightly. I know the implications. But though I have been more passionate about “destroying the enemy at all costs” when I was young, my views have evolved with time. I do understand that the killing of those two Death Eaters was something that I should have expected to happen, but it does not make it more justifiable to me. And in my view, I prefer to keep a certain emotionality towards it. It reassures me that my humanity survives through the years. I think it makes me stronger, on the contrary.”

“My intention was not to suggest that you were weak, Antanasia… I just wanted to help you deal with it,” he honestly explained. “I can perfectly see how your views have evolved with time about that aspect of war after you lost someone in it....”

“My husband, Catalina and other lost friends or lovers have nothing to do with that change of mind, Severus,” I softly stated. “You see, when I was barely over a hundred years old, I did not realise the ugliness of the narcissism hidden behind the belief that dying or killing for a just cause is noble. In my opinion, when it comes to that, heroism can in fact truly be observed on such a less pompous scale! And yet people crave for heroes, as much among your kind than in mine and I have more and more difficulty being carried away by that kind of enthusiasm. I guess I am becoming… sentimental, with the coming of old age,” I commented, with an ironic smile.

“Call it whatever you want, Antanasia, but I could not agree more with what you just said…”

There, right there at that precise moment, the cold darkness in his eyes turned to wonderfully soft black velvet. For some reason, my words seemed to find their way into his heart and made it shiver, because he looked at me with a genuine hint of warmth in his glance. It was so authentic that it felt like tenderness… and made me shiver in return.

The twelve rings of midnight interrupted our conversation. Severus looked at his watch and concealed a yawn. I rose to my feet.

“I guess I should go back home, now. I am really starting to feel hungry…”

“and I can only imagine how deliciously appealing you carotid must look under that collar…”

“...and I should let you get some rest.”

“I need some; I still have quite a bit of marking to do tomorrow morning,” he said, rising and putting his hands behind his back. “Thank you for your help, though…”

“I hope I did it right…”

“I will most probably have to review a few of them, but still, it helped to lighten up my workload.”

“Good night, then,” I said, grabbing a handful of Floo powder and extinguishing the fire in front of me.

“If one day you feel the irresistible urge to mark assignments again, do not hesitate; these piles will always be only one Floo away…” he replied, with what was almost a teasing smile at the corners of his lips.

“I will remember that… good night, Severus,”

“Good night,” he finally said, leading me into the fireplace before I disappeared in a blaze of green flames.

~*~

AUTHOR’S NOTE
Just a comment... I know that some of you do not like the \"Remus detour\" as I call it. You have expressed it quite clearly already; there is no need to write more reviews if you just want to comment that again (though if some of you do like that detour, I need some encouragements, please!) I did twist the plot like that for a reason I thoroughly considered for a while and I think it just makes the plot sound more realistic and less \"Hollywood-like\" where things change abruptly and answer the viewer/reader\'s needs too fast and in a simplistic way.

I most sincerely hope that you will stick with me and eventually see the point of all this (which goes beyond the mere sexual aspect of it). I pray that the other parts of Chapter 13 and especially chapter 14 will satisfy you better.

I am still writing every day and part 2 and 3 are being edited! Just be patient; your encouragement is always precious!

I hope you are enjoying the story so far! I would really appreciate some reviews. It does not take much of your time and it tells me if you like where the story is going or not! It’s in your best interest, in a way! Writing 25-30 pages (and more) every week represents a lot of work; your comments are a valuable reward! :o)