Sub Rosa

Chapter 7 – The Invitation

Sunlight tried manfully to penetrate the gloom of Severus’ lab. Stone covered in shelves encircled the worktables where his real interest lay. Various cauldrons, tubes and beakers sat in orderly profusion on the long wooden tables and stone counters. Flames under the cauldrons heated the room to a comfortable temperature, but even if it had been freezing, there was little chance that the sole occupant of the room would have noticed, as engrossed as he was.

Severus Snape finished grating the orchid root and set it aside. He picked up the Arnica and began the long process of distillation by smashing it and adding it to the alcohol. He knew that cellular regeneration would need to be stimulated along with the neural re-growth. The burns on her leg would make it difficult to move naturally, even if all the nerves were in perfect shape.

She had a certain natural grace in her movements, even with the cane and the limp. He suspected that whole and healed she would be a joy to watch in motion. All in all it would be an interesting exercise.

A tapping at his window drew him away from the certain realm of experimentation and back into the confusing realm of human interaction. An owl, large and fierce looking, sat perched on the window ledge.

Annoyed at the distraction, he stomped over to the window. He swung open the casement and allowed the bird into the room and took the cream-colored vellum envelope the owl presented him. Absently feeding it a small treat, he fingered the letter and noticed the monogram on the back, a graceful “M” surrounded by serpents and ivy. So, a letter from Narcissa then, as he doubted Lucius had access to the family stationary in Azkaban.

He slit open the envelope and a gilt edged invitation slid into his hand. The letters were elegantly scribed and the decorative motifs of leafy entwined branches swayed delicately in a magical breeze.

“Narcissa Black Malfoy requests the honor of your presence at a garden party at Malfoy Manor to be held on Saturday, October the 20th. RSVP by owl post no later than the 18th.” It read and Severus was baffled by the invitation, he wasn’t part of Narcissa’s garden party crowd. Then he turned it over and saw the perfectly penned words hand written on the back. “Severus dear, do bring along Kathryn, the family is dying to see her again.”

All became clear, Draco must have mentioned Kathryn to his mother and she wanted to check out the new teacher for herself. As one of the loyal, she counted on Severus to fetch Kathryn along and probably thought the social coup of one of Narcissa’s parties would sweeten the pot. How could she know that he would rather gouge out his own eyes than exchange pleasantries with other Death Eaters, their catty wives and avaricious offspring?

The tightrope walk would be a delicate act indeed at such a party.

“I will have to send my reply tomorrow, don’t bother to wait any longer.” Severus told the owl and after it had launched itself from the ledge he fastened the window again. He needed to speak to Albus and Kathryn.
He tucked the letter into a pocket and swept out of his chambers. Stalking through the corridors, his eyes searching out students, was second nature now after seventeen years. The role fell upon him easily, smoothly. He wondered if after this was all over, would he ever be able to shed it? Would teal eal Severus Snape ever be revealed, or had he been this person so long that it was his real self now. When does the mask become the reality?

Gloomy thoughts dogged him to Albus’s office.

“Marshmallow Peeps.” He muttered grimly, aggravated by the unending list of sweets that Albus chose as passwords, and the gargoyle swept back to reveal the twisting staircase that would take him to the Headmaster’s office.

“Good evening Severus.” Albus’s voice greeted him before he had even raised his hand to knock and he sighed as he entered.

“You could allow me the illusion of knocking at least.” He groused. He slid into his favorite leather chair by the fire and tossed the invitation to Dumbledore. Albus’s deft fingers extracted the cream vellum and he studied both sides with interest.

“I see Narcissa has not allowed Lucius’ imprisonment to impede her social obligations.” The cynical undertones to that statement were not lost on Severus.

“Albus, that was nearly worthy of me.” He flashed a wicked smile at the Headmaster, the only person he allowed to see that smile and was rewarded with an equally wicked smile in return.

“Only nearly, Severus? I shall have to work harder.” Albus frowned at the card. “Kathryn will have to go with you.” To Severus’s raised eyebrow he returned a shake of the head. “She has done this sort of thing a thousand times before and we cannot jeopardize your position with Voldemort.”

“I have no doubts she will be able to carry it off without getting us both killed, what concerns me is Narcissa. Does she fancy herself her husband’s proxy with the Dark Lord or is this simple social maneuvering?” Severus sighed and ran a hand through his hair.

“Pure-blood social maneuvering is never simple, Severus.” Albus shrugged, indicating that Narcissa’s motives were unknown to him as well.

“I know that all too well, Albus.” The younger man stretched out in the chair, a relaxed pose that few ever saw. “Shall we inform Kathryn of her social engagement?” The wicked gleam was back in his eyes.

“You like her, don’t you?” The question was simple, but the answer was more complex.

“She’s not an idiot and she knows the rules of the game. She is the closest thing to a peer I have right now. You are my friend, Albus, she might be one day.” He paused gathering his thoughts. “The fact that she trusts me implicitly and has faith in my abilities to play the game, is something that I find flattering.”

“She is also rather attractive, if you like brilliant, strong women, that is.” Albus’ eyes now reflected mischief and amusement.

“I will not woo you a DADA teacher, Albus.” Severus scolded, unable to keep from chuckling.

“But she is such a good DADA teacher Severus, and Flora only lent her for a year or until you have cured her leg.” The headmaster’s voice was plaintive.

“Nor will I delay her cure so she can stay and teach.” He had to laugh as Albus hung his head in mock sorrow.
“Besides, have you looked at me lately? Wooing the maiden fair is usually done by the handsome prince, not the monster.” His voice was light, but Albus wasn’t fooled. Albus was never fooled, it was both annoying and comforting.

“Severus…” Albus began, but was cut off by a sharp gesture by the potions master.

“Perhaps we can discuss this at another time.” Severus rose and tossed the floo powder, which he gathered from a small silver pot on the mantle, into the fireplace. “Professor Leblanc’s rooms.” He called out. A moment later, Kathryn’s head appeared in the fire.

“Hello Severus, what’s up?” Her voice was the usual controlled contralto, smooth and unemotional. He wondered suddenly, what her voice would sound like in the throes of passion. The thought was squelched firmly, damn Albus for planting the seeds of curiosity.

“Could you come up to the headmaster’s office?”

“Floo or foot?” She raised an eyebrow, as the Headmaster’s floo was usually warded against entry.

“Floo, Albus has unwarded it for you.” Severus replied, having seen Albus attend to it.

Kathryn stepped through the fireplace, her simple blouse and floor length skirt revealing the figure that her teacher’s robes had hidden. Someday he would make Albus pay for his meddling. She appeared entirely oblivious to his stunned silence, instead blinking owlishly at Albus. He sat down and waved her into a chair and frowned when she took a moment to respond.

“Sorry, I was in the middle of a pile of equations and some of the permutations were quite fascinating.” She settled into the chair next to him and he noticed the ink stains on her fingers. Her eyes followed his gaze and she looked at her hands in surprise before banishing the stains with a flick of her wand.

“Severus has received an invitation for a garden party at the Malfoy’s. You were included in the invite.” Albus’s voice was soft, but the tension in it was palpable.

“The tightrope walk will be difficult there.” She muttered and her eyes unfocused as she began to think. “I’ll need an angle.”

Severus felt something loosen inside him, she made no demur and it seemed she hadn’t even considered not going. It was just a wrinkle, to be thought through and conquered. He was stunned by the casual way she just assumed they both knew what they were doing and fit herself into the equation.

“I am uncertain as to how you should play this.” He murmured, concerned that she would think less of him for the admission, but unwilling to lie to her. She simply nodded as if it was of no consequence and he relaxed again.

“There are three roles I can take and only one of them will be uncomfortable for you.” She said finally after some minutes of thought, while Albus fetched tea and crumpets for them. She nibbled the hot buttered bread and nodded to herself. “I can go as either a complete non-political, hard for an ex-Auror, as a clinging vine who hangs on you and simply nods, or as a Gardener.” Severus felt his lips twitching in amusement.

Le Jardin De La Sang Pur.” He nodded. “An ancient ideal, but appropriate to the occasion.” She smiled at him and he reflected that it was a pleasant smile, one he could grow used to seeing.

“The Garden of Pure Blood” philosophy dated back to the Middle Ages, it stated that the pure blood families were like a garden, that cross breeding needed to be carefully regulated so as not to dilute the blood and that periodic “weeding” was necessary to keep from inbreeding. It was a philosophy that many embraced at the time, though it had fallen into disfavor in recent centuries as more violent theories took its place.

“My dear children, I had no idea either one of you was familiar with that ancient philosophy.” Albus was watching them both with some amusement and Severus was quite sure his own appreciation of Kathryn’s charms had not gone unnoticed.

“Albus, my many times great grandmother Catherine Majere was the authoress of the theory and she created La Livre De La Sang Pur, which I was raised on, as is every member of my family.” Kathryn rolled her eyes. “She was a barmy old coot, but she had no idea what her theories would be used for.”

“I doubt whether your ancestress would have thought that either Grindelwald or Voldemort was weeding the garden correctly.” Albus replied with a humorous glint in his eyes.

“True, but the dispassion of the theory could work in my favor.” She added. “The gardeners are not inclined to take sides in any dispute, they prefer to allow nature to work. I can be friendly and distant and yet not unsympathetic.”

They agreed and then talk turned to Severus’ potions work and Kathryn’s equations and the trio was talking long into the night.