Forgiveness

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


Chapter 16

“Have you a list of likely candidates, Severus?”

Albus Dumbledore sat behind his desk, a stack of parchment to his right. His eyes were uncharacteristically dim as he rifled through the chaotic pile. Severus shifted his weight from one cheek to the other, attempting to ease the cramping pains in his back. It had been two days since the Dark Lord had resurfaced, and Severus was still feeling the effects of being Cruciated. He had forgotten how truly agonising the curse could be.

Severus pulled a sheet of parchment from his pocket. If his hands shook or if his movements were slower than normal, Albus knew better than to comment. The Potions Master spread out the meticulously-folded document and handed it to the Headmaster. The older wizard looked at the list then to the spy‘s face. Severus answered the unspoken question, “Yes. It is quite a short list.”

“Percy Weasley?” Albus’s gaze rose to the spy with a jerky motion. “Are you certain, Severus?”

Severus quirked his brow, letting his beetle-black gaze fall to the surface of the parchment. “You have doubts, Albus?”

“No, my boy.” Albus returned to his perusal of the parchment. “The thought of his defection will crush his parents.”

“He needn’t take the Mark,” Severus answered dryly. “Given his admirable people skills with authority figures, it might be best to keep him in the Ministry instead of infiltrating the ranks as I have done. For that, his parents need never know about his duties.”

“There has already been a rift there, Severus.” Albus shook his head. “Are you certain young Mr. Weasley will be sympathetic to our cause?”

Severus stood, unable to bear both the pain lancing down his long muscles and the look of resignation on Dumbledore’s face. He turned to a mullioned window in the office. “I had quite the conversation with him after the Crouch incident. His faith has been - shall we say - shaken. He will do as you bid.”

Albus read further. “Mr. Zabini and Miss Bulstrode… Severus, they are much too young.”

Severus clenched his hands on the ancient, wooden windowsill, letting his nails dig into the stained and marred substrate. “I am twenty years their senior and their Head of House. My snakes won’t reveal everything I need to know. They stay on the list. There will be no compromises on this Albus.”

“But to groom them so young in such…” Albus began, only to stop as if he had not fully considered his words.

“What of Potter?” Severus smirked to his multifaceted expression in the glass before him. To the silence he drawled, “You have something to say to me, Albus, about grooming young people to do a job? Have you forgotten the grooming process you devised for me… or were the mutt and wolf supposed to succeed in murdering me?”

Albus sighed. The argument was an old and bitter one, not weakened by their long association. “You certainly can carry a grudge, my boy.”

“Zabini and Bulstrode stay.” Severus turned to Albus, keeping his tone cool. “This war will be won by Slytherin cunning, not Gryffindor bravado.”

The last words were spoken with a twist of his lip and some degree of distaste. Albus smiled, the twinkle returned to his eyes. “Very well, Severus. When will you begin Occlumency lessons with them?”

“I already have,” Severus said smoothly. “Last year. I will continue with the two students during the summer. Mr. Weasley will need to contact me to begin his lessons.”

“Very well, Severus. Keep me apprised of their progress.” Albus steepled his fingers under his nose, letting silence descend, as his expression became solemn. “We might consider affording Mr. Potter the benefit of your skills. I fear the link between him and Tom is growing stronger.”

Severus held his face still, not letting the gut-roiling idiocy of the idea register on his outward appearance. The thought of seeing Lily’s eyes in James Potter’s face was still enough to send him into fits of barely-controlled fury, having to spend his precious free time with the Brat-Who-Lived would be unbearable. “If that is all, sir.”

“Severus…” Albus’ tone was querulous, ancient. Severus drew himself up to his full height, feeling only a twinge of a spasm along his back muscles. The Headmaster looked away first. “That will be all.”

&*&*&

Joseph Pony’s lacklustre appearance had worried Severus for several days. The boy and Miss DuPre seemed to be on the outs at the moment. Severus did feel for the young man, but was equally relieved to see the relationship end. The older wizard wondered about offering relationship advice to the obviously dejected boy, but dismissed the idea out of hand. His relationship with Antonia, although improved since the American holiday, had seemed to stall. After their initial rush to a greater physical intimacy, Severus had cooled. He nobly told himself that he wanted to set a good example for the children, but his capacity for self-deception was low. He was scared witless to think of bedding the woman. He sensed that her reaction to him was much the same, so they contented themselves with occasional touches and shared interests. More he could not manage, at least at the moment.

Severus watched over the latest creation of his protégé, careful to assist only when asked. Joseph Pony’s demeanour was surly this morning. Severus, while working on the latest version of Wolfsbane Potion was in the midst of stirring the one-hundred-and-fifty times needed at this precise stage. The boy sighed, a gusty one that stirred the flames under his cauldron. Severus raised a brow. “Mr. Red Horse, guttering the flames will only cause your newest batch to fail. Please pay attention.”

The boy slammed a small vial down that held an expensive bit of Boomslang skin. Severus grunted softly in reproach, letting the boy know his fit of temper was not appreciated. The Potions Master continued his stirring, aware of the hard looks the boy was directing at him. The count over, Severus turned to Joseph Pony. “Is there something on your mind, Mr. Red Horse?”

The boy looked away, his sheet of silky, black hair falling from the tie, which held it back. He moved it back behind his ear, an almost girlish gesture. “Like you don’t know.”

“I can admit that I do not, Mr. Red Horse,” Severus intoned. “I am also not up for childish guessing-games.” The Potions Master set a stasis charm on both the cauldrons.

Joseph Pony affected a flat-faced obstinacy which he knew galled Severus no end. He pointed with his lips toward the door. “She knows you don’t like her.”

“Ah,” Severus answered. “You are looking for someone to blame for Miss DuPre’s inconstancy.”

The Potions Master turned back to his task, with the sure knowledge that his charge would interrupt his next moments. Severus felt the prickle of awareness on the back of his neck that the boy was staring at him, and then suddenly the door closed

Later in the day, Antonia entered the lab. “Hi.”

Severus bent to kiss her upraised cheek as she sat next to him in the spot Joseph Pony had vacated hours before. Antonia leaned against the marred surface, letting her hand rub the scars in the granite top as she fidgeted under Severus’ scrutiny. “Have you got a minute for some non-potion talk?”

Severus put his quill down which he had been using to add variables to the complex Arithmantic calculation on the sheet of parchment before him. He enquired with a degree of trepidation. “You have my entire attention. What is it?”

“I know you need to go to Meridian next week to get supplies for Stella’s next school year.” She let her deep hazel eyes slide to him. “I made an appointment with an immigration lawyer I know so you can start being yourself again.”

Severus picked up his quill in dismissal. “Thank you.”

“Oh, now I’ve upset you,” Antonia said, her tone accusing. “I asked you to make the appointment. You never did.”

He had been putting off the inevitable. He gave a sideways motion of his shoulders as if to shake off her observation. “I am still unsure of the wisdom of this, Antonia.”

“Severus, we’ve got a USDA inspection coming up. They’ll want to speak to our Potions Master about the treatments we have given the coyotes,” Antonia stated with some exasperation in her tone. “That means they will want to speak to you. You can’t be Russell Spane with them. They‘ll know who you are and that you‘re here illegally.”

Severus grimaced. Low-level bureaucrats were the least of his concerns at the moment. The figures he had plugged into the calculations were not resolving themselves. He tapped the parchment with his wand once more, scowling as the numerical expressions of the magic needed to infuse the newest variation in the Wolfsbane potion remained static. The Datura should have effected a greater change in the control than it had in the last test. Antonia looked over his shoulder, her gaze riveted by the numbers.

“Have you tried…? Of course you have.” She scowled along with him. “We’re not seeing something in the curse component of the condition. I need to do some reading and maybe talk to Beatrix.”

She stood abruptly, letting her hand rest on his shoulder as she did. “The appointment is on Wednesday of next week. Is that okay?”

As she made her way out of the room, Severus was once again reminded of Miss Granger. He shook his head and resumed his calculations.

&*&*&

The Old Woman was reading out of a battered Bible to the children between puffs of her pipe. Joseph Pony was cleaning a gun and Stella listened in rapt attention to the story of Noah and the Ark. Severus barely repressed a sneer as the Old Woman droned on about the ridiculous compact between some middling wizard and his so-called god. Sons of God and daughters of man aside, the story was just ridiculous. Rainbows were made from a collision of light particles and water, and were most definitely not the product of some imbecilic fairy tale. The Old Woman closed the book with a snap. “Time for bed, nitakoja ki. You too, Joseph Pony. Tomorrow is a work day."

She watched the children as they reluctantly went to their rooms, and then turned her eyes to Severus. "You don't believe in them stories."

It was not a question, but Severus answered with a slight shake of his head. "I learned long ago to place my faith in what I could see and experience."

"That could be a good thing, but so can believin' in something bigger than yourself." She puffed her pipe once more, letting the smoke drift lazily from the glowing bowl. Severus turned his attention once more to the yellowed National Geographic that he had purchased at a thrift shop in Rapid City, one of many in a set dating back to the 1940's. Silence descended between the two as the logs crackled in the Ben Franklin stove that warmed the house during the early autumn cold snap the region was experiencing. After a few moments, Severus looked to the Old Woman. She gave him a beatific smile. "So, them wizards in England, they don't believe in anything?"

"No, madam. I do not believe in anything now. When I was younger, that kind of thinking created a great deal of difficulty for me." Severus sneered. "And please do not mistake me for an entire nation."

She bestowed a wheezy laugh to his acerbic comment. "Yer head's big enough to make me think that."

Severus shifted uncomfortably at her gibe. He was unused to the type of humour to which the natives subscribed. Barbed comments and blunt observation were de rigueur with the Lakota and were greeted with hoots of sly laughter. It made Severus uncomfortable to be the recipient of the same derision upon which he had heaped his students and associates throughout his tenure at Hogwarts. The Old Woman puffed on her pipe, beating a tattoo on the worn leather surface of the Bible. "Boy, don't let me get yer back up. I think them white people that read this stuff and believe it like it was real are just as crazy as you do. They sure are good stories, but just that. I just wanted to make sure before..." The fire crackled noisily and she broke off the sentence with a start. "It's gettin' late, ennit. I think I'll turn in myself."

She shifted and stood slowly from her rocking chair beside the stove. Severus looked up at her sharp retreat from the conversation before he settled back to reading about the daring exploits of some long-forgotten tribe of aborigines in Southeast Asia.

&*&*&

Dinner was cooling on the table when Severus entered the cottage. He still had not resolved the conundrum with the potion and had spent the entire afternoon poring over five-hundred-year-old texts with Antonia that had been Floo'ed from the Main Office. Stella sat in her chair, hunched over her seventh-grade text for Charms, flicking an imaginary wand as she reviewed. Joseph Pony slouched in the seat adjacent to hers, scowling at Mari as the Brownie placed the light salad on the table, and took her customary place at Severus' right hand. The Brownie had become a fixture during mealtimes after Stella insisted the Chapa-spirit's great-granddaughter be so honoured. Severus felt a little odd dining with her, but the fight that would have ensued with his daughter had he refused would have strained his waning reserves of patience on that day. The Brownie snapped her fingers and food appeared on the plates of each of the diners.

Severus washed his face and hands hastily before he sat. "My dear, we are ready to dine."

Stella swished her hand through the air once more before shutting the book with an impatient snap. Severus had established the rule during the school year and had needed to reinforce it occasionally as the summer wore on and Stella chafed to be in school once more.

Joseph Pony picked at the greens in the separate bowl provided by the Brownie. Severus dreaded the conversation he knew must ensue about the boy's love life. He was sure the werewolf's withdrawal of affections had more to do with her past than anything Severus had to say. Truth be told, Severus had arranged for the girl to continue her education in both Charms and Arithmancy and was feeling much better about the boy's interest in Miss DuPre. He assumed that the fact that he had caught them before they rushed to greater intimacy was the deciding factor in Miss DuPre's strategic retreat.

Severus joined the conversation that Stella valiantly began about her further studies. She had received her class schedule and a list of texts required for the approaching school term. For a moment, he was struck with sudden and complete nostalgia for a job he had hated, or at least thought he did. If he were truthful with himself, though, there had been few transcendent moments in his tenure as Professor; he had always looked forward to each new term with anticipation. The thought that he might discover some pupil worthy of his attentions, a younger version of himself, without all the dark baggage, always made him nearly giddy with joy. He was almost always disappointed in his quest for that perfect moment of comprehension from his students. Very few had ever attained the status of equal. Potter had come close in Defence, Severus admitted grudgingly. The boy's insights into the nature of Dark magic and the counter to them had truly astounded Severus, given his indifferent performance in Potions. Draco had been a disappointment to him; academically the boy was too volatile to perform adequately, but the Weasley twins... They had been his greatest challenge, their innate grasp of the nature of potions wasted on the application for which they chose to pursue. Not to say that Severus could not understand their desire to get ahead. The Potions Master, at his core, was still that poorly-dressed sod who quaked at the thought of anyone, especially Lily, discovering his penury. He understood their desire to have all that had been denied them, at least materially.

He hoped they were still doing well with their little shop. They deserved that, at least, especially after Severus had chopped one of their ears off in that ill-conceived plot to let Potter escape his childhood home. Had Severus truly been serving the Dark Lord, that flight would have gone very differently.

"--Daddy?” Stella had been speaking to him, and now she turned her concerned gaze to his. "Are you having another attack? You haven't even eaten yet."

Severus turned his attention to the untouched cutlet and green vegetables. The saffron rice had been stirred, but not diminished by him. "I was just thinking about... things, Stella."

Joseph Pony smirked darkly at the older wizard's comment. Stella gave a doubtful shrug of acceptance. "Can I get up now? I'm done and I want to finish my review before I have to go to bed."

"Go ahead. I shall help Mari clear the dishes for the evening." Severus placed the serviette from his lap next to his plate as the infernal Mari cast a warming charm on his meal and countered his effort to rise.

"I is needing no help from the Potions Master," Mari scowled as she began levitating the emptied plates from the meal. "The Potions Master is needing food though. I is knowing he and the doctor did not eat this afternoon."

Severus scowled darkly but began to sift through the food on his plate, purposefully shovelling food into his mouth as if he were the youngest male Weasley. He shot a pointed look at Mari and smirked at Joseph Pony's expressed disgust.

&*&*&

The auburn-haired Weasley sat before him in the kitchen of Grimmauld Place, his skin pasty in the wan light cast from the fireplace. Severus had questioned him at length about his involvement in the Crouch affair. The boy never broke, merely acted more priggish with each successive question. Severus thought he might be able to mould the boy into a fine tool, once he overcame the extreme and hungry pride of place the boy possessed. The Potions Master levelled his stare at the boy once more. "Have you sufficiently cleared your mind, Mr. Weasley?"

"Yes, sir." The boy's frown of concentration and his jutting jaw made Severus want to knock him down a few pegs, but he refrained from making the practice session more difficult than it already was.

"Legilimans." Severus whispered as he pointed his wand at the boy. Severus was greeted by a blank wall of featureless, grey brick. The boy was a natural, or had much to hide. Severus battered at the wall, finding and exploiting a chink in the surface and suddenly he was in Hogwarts...

Percy Weasley saw much that he had never before revealed, squirreling information away for future use. He viewed himself through the boy's eyes, greasy-haired, hooked nose and sickly pale. It was the night of the final task and Severus was ill with worry over what would come from Potter's revelations. Percy observed this with some satisfaction. He could use this if things went as pear-shaped as he thought they might. Severus felt the former Gryffindor's burning desire to make a difference in the coming conflict, on whatever side that chose him first.

Severus withdrew from the spell and fixed the boy with a contemplative look. "I suppose we are most fortunate you accepted our offer, Mr. Weasley."

Percy merely spread his hands as if flexing them then sat back in his seat. "It's much more complicated than what I showed you, Severus, if I may call you that, spy to spy?"

"Yes, Percy." Severus stressed the moniker, liking the feel of power over the boy that it gave him. "It always is more complicated, and less so, isn't it?"

The Weasley boy gave a shift to his shoulders, more a twitch than an actual gesture. Severus levelled his wand at the boy's throat. "I should kill you now."

"But you won't," the boy answered without a blink. "People like us are too valuable to waste. I have made my decision, Severus. I won't be going back on my word. If you need character references contact Blaise Zabini or young Mister Nott. They know I'm a man of my word."

"What, no Gryffindor references?" Severus sneered.

Weasley let his composure crack for a moment. The boy was definitely master of his emotions, so Severus knew the breech had been allowed. "Would you believe one of my Housemates?" The boy's face became a mask of contempt. "You are just as dim as the Headmaster when it comes to House prejudices."

Severus laughed, a brittle sound that shattered in the airless quality of the room. "You might think that, boy."

The two glared at each other until both looked away when Black made a noise in the upper rooms. Weasley turned his raptor-like attention to the disturbance. Severus sat back in the seat he occupied. "Very well. Shall we continue?"

Weasley moved his hands in a graceful sweep indicating victory and concession at once. "Yes."

&*&*&

As was becoming their norm, Severus met Antonia on her porch after dinner. She joined him on the porch swing with a glass of iced tea for both of them. They swung in silence, both unwilling to broach the subject of their failures of the afternoon. Severus let the soft sound of jazz that issued from the wireless in the house sooth him. He had never been partial to any form of music after his obsession with the glam-rock of his youth, but he found he could appreciate the inharmonic qualities of jazz. Antonia sipped her tea. "It's John Coltrane."

"Ah," Severus answered. He let his palm fall open on the seat between them. She took it, softly running her fingers over his pale skin. The sharp ache of desire cut through his midsection, but as usual, he resisted it. The song ended and another began after a short interruption for commercials. Severus drew her hand to his lips. "I was not angry. This afternoon. You simply surprised me."

"I know," Antonia answered. "I think I'm destined to misread you every time we talk."

Severus shifted, placing his arm over her shoulders as he drew her to him. He rested his nose in her fragrant hair, inhaling the intoxicating scent that was uniquely hers. "I told you I was difficult."

"So am I," she chuckled against his throat, drawing chills on his skin where she breathed. He pondered his physical attraction to her as she traced the scars on his neck. "'Rus?"

"Hmmm?"

"Nothing." She drew away, as was their custom when action might lead to further intimacy. Severus stood.

"I'm afraid I must leave, Antonia." Severus righted the collar of his shirt, refastening the button that she had released in her exploration. "Mr. Red Horse has some concerns about my feelings on Miss DuPre."

"Oh. I was wondering when he would bring up that elephant in the room." Antonia joined him on the first step of the porch.

Severus turned his hooded gaze to the doctor. "I have no objections to Miss DuPre--"

"No, but you don't like her being a werewolf." Antonia's acerbic tone cut him.

Severus turned away from her, attempting to cover his irritation. "I would appreciate that you not comment on my family's private affairs."

"Well, then, don't bring them up." Antonia scooped the two glasses of tea from the side table, exposing a good deal of leg as her shorts rode up. "Good night."

Severus winced as the door slammed behind him. Insufferable woman and her insufferable meddling.



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