Weft of Power, Warp of Blood: A Tapestry of Desire

Chapter Nineteen
Release and Capture

Kiaya stepped off the spinning stairs behind the stone gargoyle and knocked on a very well hidden oak door with a griffin shaped doorknocker. It opened and Kiaya stepped through hesitantly.

“Hello? Professor Dumbledore?” she called. Her best black apprentice robes swirled around her legs, which were covered in black tights. Flat, black, soft-soled shoes moved almost silently over the stone floor as she walked into the sitting room. She still wore her apprentice’s hat, but instead of the kerchief she normally had on underneath it, wispy tendrils of white-blonde hair could be seen peeking from under the stark black hat.

“Ah, Apprentice Roundtree, come in, welcome back to Hogwarts,” said a kindly voice from a doorway to her right. As she looked, Professor Dumbledore walked out with a smile. He looked older and more tired than he did when she left Hogwarts eight years ago. Somehow, that was sad.

Impulsively she hugged him, though she’d never have dared to do so when she was younger – or even now, had she thought much about it. Kiaya was much smaller than the very tall Professor Dumbledore, and felt like a young girl hugging her grandfather as she did so. She poured herself into the hug, though her arms were gentle. The fear and sadness that she had felt for the last month swept away for a moment as the elderly wizard hugged her.

“I’m glad to be back, even for a visit, Sir,” she said as she stepped back with a wide grin. Surprisingly, she was happy to be back. For seven years, Hogwarts had been home while she was a student. It was comfortable.

“I was deeply saddened to hear of Edward’s death, Kiaya. He was a good friend,” said Dumbledore in his calm, gentle voice. He walked to his desk and opened a drawer, pulling out a sheaf of papers, setting them on the desk.

“Thank you, Sir,” she said softly. “He was quite ill. I was… disappointed that there was nothing I could do for him,” she finished lamely.

“Shall I try to comfort you, or spare you the platitudes?” Dumbledore asked with a half smile.

“Oh, please, spare them,” she half-laughed, “I’ve really heard every single one of them four or five times now. I know that it’s all for the best and every wizard must die and that Mr. Basilton was very old and not even the greatest Potions Master can defeat death, so…” she took a deep breath, “may I please feel comforted just by seeing you, Sir?” she asked, looking quite tired.

“Of course you may. Is everything settled from the estate, or would you like help?”

“Actually, Sir, everything is as done as I can get it. Mr. Basilton had the letters all done before he died. I just had to send them to the Ministry and Gringotts and his friends, letting them know. He even made a checklist for me. As far as I can tell, everything was done. Mr. Basilton was very organized.”

“As are you, I see. There aren’t many that wouldn’t have needed help. I’m proud of you. Cinnamon square?” said Dumbledore, proffering a tin of hard candies.

Kiaya refused with a shake of her head and smile, “No, thank you, Sir. The estate, well, it was all I had to do. There were the potions to make, but not many. I suppose people didn’t want to disturb. There was a lot stocked up, as well,” she shrugged with a sad sort of smile.

“Kiaya, you don’t need to “Sir” me all the time. It makes me feel quit ancient,” he said with a twinkle in his eye.

“Yes, S… sorry,” she blushed.

“Don’t be,” said Dumbledore, but anything further was interrupted by a rap on the door. “Ah!” Professor Dumbledore exclaimed, “Come in, Professor Snape,” he called. Kiaya’s eyes got wide as she stood.

Severus Snape, Kiaya’s former professor, and the object of her very odd girlhood crush swept into the room. He too, wore black, though looked nothing like an apprentice in his long robes and high-necked jacket. Jet black hair swept over tanned, gaunt cheeks. His black eyes bored into her. “You requested my presence at four o’clock, Headmaster,” Snape reminded Dumbledore in his black velvet voice.

“Correct, Professor Snape. I thought you would be interested in witnessing the release of an apprentice indenture and journeyman’s contract, since said apprentice was once one of your best pupils,” said Dumbledore.

Kiaya smiled, “Hello, Professor Snape. It’s nice to see you again.”

“Yes, and you,” the Potions Master said politely, if not pleasantly, not commenting on the ‘best pupils’ remark. “Miss Roundtree, if I recall?”

“Yes, Sir,” she confirmed.

“Why is your master not releasing your apprenticeship?” asked Snape.

“Sir,” Kiaya knew that Snape would never ask not to be called ‘Sir’, “my teacher recently died, but left word with Professor Dumbledore that I was to be released. He sent everything here, so here I am”

“Who was your master?”

“Edward Basilton,” saying his name was a sorrow and a note of pride.

“Yes, I recall that now. I also apprenticed under him. He was a good teacher,” said Snape, obviously remembering his own time sweeping floors and cleaning up after every potion. Kiaya nodded.

“Edward sent me word that Kiaya’s last three years with him completed her journeyman projects and status, though he didn’t tell her. He believed that she’s ready to take on her own students now. I believe his words were ‘That blasted apprentice hat keeps her tame but she’s got everything she’ll need – except a gag’,” chuckled Professor Dumbledore. The other two stood, silently contemplating various ideas and meanings behind that statement.

Professor Dumbledore interrupted their musings, “Kiaya you come over here and kneel down, let’s get this done with, there is more to be discussed after we get you out of that hat.”

Kiaya giggled and did as instructed.

“Severus, you stand next to her, please.”

The tall man did as he was asked.

“I’m going to read your release of apprentice indenture papers to you then, normally, you would kiss the hem of Edward’s robes as a formality in thanks for his teachings. Since that is not possible, I thought the formality could be extended, instead, to Professor Snape, as he was your first Potions teacher and was also a student of Edward’s. He’ll also act as witness. Then I shall give you your cards and we’ll all sign the papers.”

Kiaya closed her eyes, listening intently as Professor Dumbledore read the legal papers. Time seemed to stand still and his voice receded into a half distant hum. She heard every word, but her mind filled with moments from the last eight years of her life. Kiaya remembered the morning Mr. Basilton opened the door to her, shooing her inside with “So you’re the new one, eh. I hope you’re not going to be like the last dunderhead Albus sent to me – well, come on girl, kneel down and give me that stupid hat. Let’s get this over with.” A single tear, followed quickly by more slid down her cheek. She hadn’t cried since the day Mr. Basilton had died and didn’t notice that she was doing so now.

“..and the aforementioned individual, called “Apprentice” has been tested and deemed knowledgeable…”

Other images races through her mind. There was the first time she’d dropped a phial of bubotuber pus and given herself terrible boils and Mr. Basilton didn’t rant at her because her wails of pain were too loud. Then there was the time that she put one too many beetle wings into a Hair Growing potion and the rat that she tested it on went bald and Mr. Basilton made her research the antidote while he yelled about irresponsible, careless idiots. She also remembered the first time Mr. Basilton had harrumphed in approval; she had cried in joy.

“…Declare the apprentice to be fully qualified in the Art and Science of Potions Making at the Journey level…”

The night Mr. Basilton told her that she wasn’t going to be released as soon as he went through the standard curriculum for potion’s apprentices, she had cried too – devastated that he felt that she wasn’t smart enough to leave her apprenticeship, until he told her that he was keeping her on so he could teach her more than the usual Ministry-bound dunderheads. She’d walked around, stunned for two days at his slight praise.

“…Declare this Journeyman a fit and qualified Master of Potions, with experience and knowledge befitting such a title…”

Kiaya shook herself back to the present just as Professor Dumbledore finished reading the final document. Silent tears still fell unheeded as Dumbledore gestured for Professor Snape to remove her apprentice hat and, as tradition dictated, toss it into the fire. She watched the hated hat as it was consumed. Her crying eased when the hat was ash. Quietly, she said goodbye to Mr. Basilton and to the child who wore the hat.

She looked up at Professor Snape, who was watching her tears with a caustic eye and remembered the rest of the ceremony. She quickly bent over and took the hem of his robes in her small hand, kissing it once. “Thank you, Professor Snape,” she whispered into his shoes. He nodded stiffly as she sat back on her heels. Noticing that her face was wet from crying, she scrubbed at it, embarrassed, and stood.

“Here is the card for you to file with the Ministry,” Professor Dumbledore said holding up a white 3x5 card covered in official looking scribbles – Mr. Basilton’s signature was at the bottom of it, with Dumbledore’s below that. “Here is the card for your own files,” he held up another. “And lastly, one to keep with you, should you desire it.” They all signed every document, then he handed the small stack to her and she murmured her thanks. Professor Snape looked bored.

“Edward asked me to look into schools that might need a potions master for the coming term. I know of one position that has suddenly come up,” said Professor Dumbledore.

Snape stiffened. Kiaya listened.

“Professor Snape has decided to spend more time on his research this year and will be missing a great many of the classes that he would normally teach due to his potentially sensitive work. Were it to be only once or twice, I would simply find a substitute teacher for the few classes that he will not be able to attend. However, he anticipates that it will be more frequent than that. Generally, though, it will not be full days. Therefore, he will need a part-time assistant professor to take over any classes when he is fulfilling his other duties as a researcher and perhaps taking a couple of his regularly scheduled ones, permanently, to ease his workload.”

As Dumbledore spoke, Kiaya sneaked a look at Snape. He looked more sour than usual.

Dumbledore didn’t seem to notice the other man’s expression, “We seem to have mutual needs; thus, on Edward Basilton’s recommendation, I am offering you an assistant potions professor position here at Hogwarts for the year.”

Kiaya squeaked a soft “Oh!”

“I know you have Edward’s practice that you may want to keep active for the time being. However, I do not wish to go through the bother of interviewing potential applicants when I know that I have a talented young Potions Master in you. I would like you to please consider it – at least part time because of the shop,” said Dumbledore with a twinkle in his blue eyes. Behind her, Severus opened his mouth to object, but the older wizard stayed it by lifting his hand.

“Consider it! I’ll do that, Sir,” she paused for a breathless moment. “Consideration done. I accept,” she announced with a wide smile. After a short pause to catch her breath, Kiaya asked, “Would it really be alright if I did both the teaching and the shop? Mr. Basilton has so many clients; I would feel awful if I left them in the lurch. They’re pretty quiet now, but I expect them to beat down the door any day now.”

“It is an ideal situation for both of us, Kiaya. Professor Snape only needs a little more free time during his day for his research and occasional fill-ins for the whole day and some evenings to keep watch over Slytherin House. If you think that you could do both and not wear yourself out with all of the travel, I would be happy to have you here.”

Kiaya nodded and bit her lip, “I could do it. It would be about ten minutes to apparate from here to Norwich, if I go slowly and stop often.”

Snape snorted behind her, “That long? Why don’t you just go directly?”

“I could, Sir, but I’d rather go in small bits so I don’t splinch. It’s always made me a bit nervous.”

Dumbledore interrupted, “Excellent, classes begin in six weeks. You may either stay in your home and travel to and from school daily or live in the castle and travel to Norwich – you choose. If you would like to close up the house and bring whatever you need here, up to and including Edward’s library and stock, we will be happy to make up quarters for you and Severus has room in his office for a desk and shelves for you. I expect he’ll want to discuss lessons with you for several days before the students arrive.”

“Indeed I would,” drawled Snape, scowling down at his very short new assistant. She gave him a brilliant smile to cover her nervousness.

“I think, for now, I’d like to stay at home – I mean in Norwich. Just because it’s…” she trailed off.

“Home,” supplied Dumbledore.

She nodded gratefully.

“Perhaps you can assist Professor Snape for the next couple of weeks, as well? I’m sure there is plenty to do down in the dungeons before the students arrive?”

“Headmaster,” broke in Snape, though he was ignored.

Dumbledore continued, “Come back tomorrow; we’ll get all of the paperwork filled out then you and Professor Snape can work out a schedule for you. Perhaps the second and third year classes and perhaps one or two N.E.W.T. or O.W.L. classes per week?”

Eyes wide, she assented. Snape was silent, though Kiaya thought she could feel him bristling behind her.

“I shall start packing immediately then, and arrive with books in tow tomorrow?” she asked.

Professor Dumbledore nodded, his eyes twinkling.

Kiaya bolted to his side to hug him once more. “Thank you, Professor Dumbledore, for everything!” Slipping out of the old man’s embrace, she shook Snape’s hand, “I look forward to working with you, Professor Snape.” He grunted. She bowed to both men and rushed out.

“Research?”

“I didn’t say what you were researching, Severus. Is it my fault that someone might leap to the conclusion that it was potions?”

“Of course not, Headmaster.” Snape was well aware of how is diabolical former in-law’s mind worked. He was frequently awed by the sheer genius of Dumbledore’s manipulations, half-truths and clever word play. “I don’t need the time away from classes, you know.”

“I know that you don’t want it, but you’re doing too much already. Adding students and marking essays to it all will wear you out. I don’t want your mind to become too tired to safely deal with what you must. You have so much more to lose this time,” said Dumbledore, the twinkle in his eyes gone.

“I’ll be fine.”

“You’ll have help this time, Severus, that’s final. That girl is going to be doing all of the things you hate doing anyway, so accept the help,” ordered Dumbledore.

“I don’t want her underfoot,” Snape tried.

Dumbledore rebutted, “She’ll only be there part of the time. Schedule what you need to do around her hours and she’ll never even know. Plus if you get called, she can watch over your Slytherins.”

“They’ll eat her alive.”

“She’ll be fine. They will respect her if you tell them to. Perhaps they could use a woman’s touch.”

“I think there’s quite enough touching going on in Slytherin anyway, thanks,” One side of Snape’s mouth crooked into a half smile.

“That girl reminds me of Jasmine,” Dumbledore’s eyes twinkled as he popped a cinnamon square into his mouth.

Snape accepted the change of subject with unusual equanimity. “Only because she’s short and hugged you.”

“Mmmm. Nothing like a hug from a pretty girl to keep a man young. You should try it.”