Secrets

Chapter 2

By Thursday morning, that week, Iris was ready to start eating her broomstick from sheer nerves. She had already worked her way through an entire two-pound chocolate fudge cake (with cream) -which served its purpose well, she had to admit -but now she was starting to worry about her waistline too, amongst other things, so the broomstick option was rapidly becoming more and more attractive.

She had spent most of her free time alone, in her rooms, high up on the third floor of the Ravenclaw tower where she had been -appropriately, she thought -accommodated. And she had been practising -day, noon and night. The 'Participo' spell she had -rather obscurely -alluded to Dumbledore she was able to perform wasn't easy, and she had decided she might as well make sure that, if needed, it was something she could do without fail, at a moment's notice, whatever time of the day or night. She had also made sure she practised with different hosts. One never knew what would come in handy, and when, and whether it would be appropriate for the situation. Of course she had her preferences, and she would be using them if at all possible, but, just in case, she made sure she had other options as well.

When she wasn't in her rooms reading, or practising, she was in a classroom, teaching. It was hard work, covering all her own classes and Snape's. By now she was really wishing he would hurry up and get back. She was also sure that practically the entire student population of Hogwarts did not share her enthusiasm for Snape's return. No one had had a Potions class in four days and the mood amongst Gryffindors, Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws was positively exuberant. The Slytherins were being a bit more restrained, but even they were looking a bit less sombre and a bit more light-hearted than usual.

There was still some time, she considered, before her first Thursday Invocation-Evocation class, maybe she should take this opportunity and practise the 'Participo' spell once more. She didn't manage to come to a decision, however, since, suddenly, a loud crowing noise came from outside her window, followed immediately by a very discernible scratching at the windowsill. She looked around and saw a rather enormous sized crow sitting at her window. It had a roll of paper clutched in one of its claws. She smiled.

'Maeve, you're back then? Come here,' she crooned softly at it. The crow fluttered over and landed on her shoulder, giving her ear an affectionate nibble and dropping the roll of paper in her lap. She tickled it kindly under its beak, which was something it seemed to enjoy, and gave it a bit of left-over chocolate cake, which Maeve also seemed to appreciate.

She opened up the roll of paper which turned out to be that day's issue of the Daily Prophet. The moment her eyes fell on the first page, she felt her stomach do a little sort of back-flip and her heart sting coldly. 'Two missing, One dead' the huge title read, and beneath that, in only slightly smaller print 'Ministry stumped at mysterious circumstances surrounding event.' She cast a cursory glance over the report itself. There was no need to read it more carefully. It was the result of the Ministry's obviously clumsy attempt at covering up the true story. If she had seen it once, she had seen it an hundred times.

With all thoughts of the 'Participo' spell now effectively chased from her mind, she crunched the paper up in her hand and stalked out of her rooms, heading for her office, Maeve still firmly perched on her shoulder. A few students she met on the way shot a couple of puzzled looks in her direction as she swept darkly past them, somehow the presence of the crow on her shoulder serving to enhance the overall impression of blackness that her robes, her hair and her eyes exuded. Neither of the above were, technically, black, but under the circumstances they gave an extremely convincing impression of blackness.

She unlocked the door of her office with a wave of her wand, a second wave and a whisper removed the ward charm she had placed on it the night before and the third and final flick made the door swing open in front of her. She walked in and the door slammed shut behind her. Sitting down at her desk, she picked up her quill and a piece of parchment, and immediately started to write.

Two missing, one dead: report received. Details required. Please advise on relevant circumstances immediately.

Iris Raveneye

Quickly, she picked up her wand, and tapped the parchment three times.

'Ordinem muta,' she whispered, and immediately, the letters started to rearrange themselves on the page until what she was looking at meant absolutely nothing at all and looked like utter gibberish. 'Sentetia redde' she murmured and tapped the parchment again. The letters rearranged themselves for a second time and when they had finished moving around, the letter read:

Dear reader of 'Witch Cauldron?'

I am writing to inform you that as of November this year, the annual subscription cost to our publication will be raised to thirty Galleons. Payable also in instalments.

Yours,

Gladys Lee, Customer Care.

Satisfied with her double spell, Iris hastily folded the parchment, sealed it with wax and a hold-fast charm and wrote the address on the front:

Iole Ranger

The Haven H.Q.

Again she performed 'Ordinem muta' and 'Sententia redde' on the address, and by the time she was satisfied and tying it to the crow's leg securely, the address read:

Mr. Robert Butterworth

15, The Crescent

Guilford

Surrey

'I'm sorry Maeve,' she whispered to the crow and tickled it under its beak again, 'but this is urgent. I owe you one big treat when you get back. I promise. So come straight back, you hear? No messing around on the way. I need you back here.' The crow, strangely, seemed to understand because she nibbled Iris's ear again, squawked loudly, bobbed her head up and down, and disappeared out the open window.

Iris sighed deeply, rubbed her forehead with the heels of her palms and ran her fingers through her hair. 'Gather yourself' she was mentally repeating to herself. In twenty minutes you're going to go into a classroom and you're going to have to teach. And you're going to have to keep on teaching, almost straight through till dinnertime. The knock on her door made her jump almost out of her skin, just as she was beginning to relax. It's half past eight in the morning, for Merlin's sake, she complained silently.

'Come in,' she called out, nevertheless. She still had her eyes closed and was rubbing the ridge of her nose tiredly. 'Yes?' she said without looking up as she heard the door open and footsteps come into the room.

'I thought you would have been able to cope, but it seems that, foolishly, I misjudged your stamina, Professor Raveneye,' a silky, hushed voice said that made her head snap up as if on a spring. Snape stood in the middle of the room, looking at her sternly. Her lips slowly parted in a broad smile that lit up her face.

'I thought your judgement was infallible,' she said acidly. 'Are you admitting to an oversight, Professor Snape?' she continued malevolently. His black eyes glimmered briefly as a smile threatened to break out on his lips. He controlled it masterfully though and just glared at her unsuccessfully for a couple of moments.

'Touché,' he admitted in the end with an almost invisible smirk. 'However, I have to insist that you do look truly terrible and it seems that I have arrived just in time.' She contemplated how true his words were and wondered whether he was aware of the full meaning of what he had just said.

'When did you get back?' she asked, instead of even attempting to contradict him. Repartee with Snape was always enjoyable, but right now she had things of greater importance on her mind; plus it was too early in the morning for this sort of thing. He hesitated for only the briefest moment, as a shadow of what might have been puzzlement flickered across his eyes.

'Late last night,' he replied smoothly, 'although I fail to see why that is of any interest, this early in the morning,' he added dryly.

'It isn't,' she lied, resigning herself to forcing her wit to work when all she wanted was to go back to bed and finally relax. 'It would have been of interest if I had known it last night, before I sat and prepared for all your classes today,' she concluded, which was half-true, she considered. Snape finally couldn't control the usual sneer that served as his smile.

'I apologise for not making my presence felt earlier,' he toyed with the words and it was her turn to chuckle in amusement. 'And if there's one thing I have to admit, it's that your repartee is in exceptional form today, even at this early hour, and even though you are performing under obvious fatigue. You do know that you have purple circles round your eyes, don't you?' he concluded malevolently.

'Yes, I do, Severus,' she agreed. 'You don't look that great yourself, since you brought the subject up. What did you do? Have a wild night out on the tiles? I always knew it was the quiet, restrained ones that hide a passionate animal inside,' She savoured the acerbity of the remark. She almost saw it physically sting him and she grinned. His eyes lit up again and he only barely managed to stop himself -by actually gritting his teeth -before saying something truly vicious this time. The only reason he bothered to stop himself was that, if he had been wearing a hat, he would have tipped it to her. She had a knack for insulting people, in the worse possible manner they could individually imagine, which was only rivalled by his own -even if he said so himself. He inclined his head, instead, mostly to hide the smirk that threatened his precarious composure. He looked tired, she noticed. Much more than he probably realised.

'Truce?' he enquired calmly.

'Truce,' she agreed and shot him a genuine smile. 'And about time, too,' she added. It was almost nine o'clock now and she rose from her seat. 'I don't know about you, but I've got a classroom full of students waiting with bated breath for me to teach them the finer points of Elemental Invocation in early Renaissance Ceremonial High Magic.' Snape's face twisted briefly in a grimace that teetered between painful disrelish and a sneer.

'Sounds thrilling,' he purred maliciously and turned towards the door with a flurry of black robes. 'I predict that after that lesson the frivolous little brats will even find Potions compelling, despite their unreserved incompetence in the subject!' and he disappeared into the corridor.

She contemplated answering back at him, a hoard of different, imaginatively phrased insults springing to her mind and vying with themselves for the honour of being uttered first, but decided to control herself instead. Sometimes, the one who didn't reply was the one that had won the game. She grinned to herself as she headed for the door, only a few seconds behind Snape. She knew he had no illusions about how popular he, or his classes, were with the students. She also knew it didn't bother him. On the contrary, he seemed to take perverse pleasure in attracting as much dislike as it was humanly possible from his students. To be sure it was one of the various, very effective ways, of making sure no one ever forgot a single word you said. Dislike retains people's attention as effectively-if not more so -than affection. Everyone paid attention in classes when Snape was in the room, that was certain.

*

The rest of the day passed without incident, if one did not count the thirty-five points she took off Gryffindor in the third period, for George and Fred Weasley's ill timed and poorly executed attempt at a practical joke which involved a black top-hat, a salamander and the magical version of flash photography. She had considered three days detention to boot, but, somehow, the singed eyebrows and hair-line that had made both of them look as if they had just been in a particularly horrific alchemical accident had compensated, to her mind.

At dinner, she saw Snape again, but they didn't exchange much more than a couple of well-aimed and expertly phrased gibes, which they seemed unable to do without when in the same room together. McGonagall eyed them austerely when at some point her ear caught some of their more colourful remarks at each other, much in the same way she would eye a couple of impudent children, but Dumbledore only chuckled. Snape shot them both a look that would have burned a hole through an inch of steel, and retired from the Hall with the air of one who has had to show superhuman willpower to retain his dignity in the face of incomprehensible idiocy. Iris saw McGonagall shake her head and tutt-tutt in exasperation as Snape stalked off, while at the same time her acidly severe eyes pretended to concentrate on her food.

'Come now, Minerva,' Iris heard Dumbledore say soothingly to McGonagall with another chuckle. 'They're only playing. Young people must be allowed their fun!'

McGonagall and Iris both snorted derisively. Dumbledore exploded in hearty laughter at the perfectly timed reaction that reached him stereophonically.

'He's not that young any more, Albus,' McGonagall retorted and shook her head again. 'Honestly!'

'Iris doesn't mind though, do you dear?' Dumbledore said, turning suddenly towards her. She chuckled and shook her head.

'No. I don't mind. It's not my idea of fun, exactly, but it can be amusing,' she said. 'He's not that bad, really,' she added in McGonagall's direction. McGonagall snorted again and refused to deign to take this conversation seriously.

'There, you see Minerva?' Dumbledore insisted. 'The children are just playing!' he said with a sly smile and a twinkle in his brilliantly blue eyes.

'Headmaster, honestly!' It was Iris's turn now to object to being called a child twice in the space of about two minutes and to the insinuation that she and Snape were playing some sort of private game.

'Alright, alright!' Dumbledore raised his hands in resignation. 'Ladies I admit defeat. You may cease fire now!' Both Iris and McGonagall couldn't help but chuckle quietly at this and the issue was closed. Satisfied that the two women on either side of him had stopped bristling, he decided to change the subject. 'By the way, Iris dear, would you mind if we had a small chat after dinner? Whenever it's convenient for you, of course.'

'Certainly,' Iris agreed. 'Shall I come by your office around eight-thirty? Is that convenient?'

'Perfectly,' Dumbledore agreed and rose to leave. 'I will be seeing Severus at eight,' he let drop and quickly disappeared from the hall.

At precisely eight-thirty, Iris Raveneye was taking a seat in front of Dumbledore's desk. She had half expected to run into Snape leaving Dumbledore's office just as she was arriving, but it had not happened. She was glad.

Dumbledore squinted amiably at her over the top of his glasses. It was as if he was weighing her up, calculating, analysing, and in peculiar way, this made her much more uncomfortable than when Snape did it -and he did this practically every day. Maybe that was why: she was so used to it coming from Snape now, she had become immune. Dumbledore, however, didn't perform this sort of ritual often. Consequently, when he did go about it, one couldn't help but feel it was because of an issue of the highest importance. This realisation did not make one comfortable.

She found herself vaguely wondering whether Snape had felt this discomfort too, at his earlier visit with Dumbledore. Somehow she doubted it.

Suddenly, Dumbledore's eyes changed and he smiled brightly at her, as if whatever had been going on in his mind was over and done with and he was satisfied. She almost felt the need to sigh in relief.

'So, Iris my dear,' Dumbledore began, 'how have you been keeping?'

'Fine,' she said casually, but her eyebrows creased just a touch with what could only have been puzzlement -or was it concern?

'Severus seemed to think you looked a bit under the weather today,' Dumbledore remarked lightly, and smiled again, as if to reinforce his impression of innocence. Iris's eyes narrowed dangerously.

'He did, did he?' she asked with such patent insouciance in her voice her tone took on an entirely different meaning. The signification being 'I will deal with him later'.

'No, I am feeling just fine,' she said calmly. 'I'm just a little bit tired. Nothing a good night's sleep won't fix. (Which is more than can be said for some people),' she added more quietly, with a hiss in her voice that Dumbledore found distinctly reminiscent of one of the aforementioned 'people', and which made him smile. 'However, I have a feeling that you have not called me here to inquire about my health,' she added in the end. Dumbledore nodded sombrely.

'No. That's true,' he said. 'Presumably you are aware of the recent report about the two disappearances and that one, unfortunate, death...'

'Yes I am. I have also requested a report on the matter that contains all the important bits that the Ministry obviously tried to keep out of the Daily Prophet. I emphasise the word "tried" since they have, once more, done such a bang-up job that anyone with half a brain can tell they are trying to hide something!' she erupted in a totally uncharacteristic manner. Dumbledore's eyebrows rose. 'Sorry, Albus, but I cannot stand incompetence of this sort!' she added fervently.

'Yes. Obviously...! I thought that reaction had something vaguely familiar about it...' he continued with a wry expression on his face.

'I mean, one would have thought that they'd have got the hang of this by now!' she continued, heedlessly.

'Yes. One would have thought that, I agree...' Dumbledore said placatingly.

'Anyway,' she continued. 'Do you have any more information on the matter?'

'Oh, no dear. Not yet, at least. After that little "coming together" myself and Mister Fudge had at the end of last term, he has been... how shall I put this... less forthcoming than usual. I was slightly hoping you might by privy to more details than have been publicised... Evidently, I will have to wait a bit however.' He smiled at her again.

'I will let you know as soon as I'm told anything at all,' she said, smiling warmly at him for the first time. Silence fell heavily, for a moment, burdened with thought. 'There was one thing I wanted to ask,' she ventured, finally.

'Yes?' Dumbledore urged her on.

'When did Snape get back?' she asked, not even bothering to sound innocent about it. Dumbledore's mouth split in a wide, beaming grin.

'He did mention you had asked... Dear old Severus seemed to think that was suspicious. He felt you were being overly curious in his coming and goings...' Iris shrugged and spread her hands in a way that meant 'not my fault he's a member of the "Paranoia Society"' Dumbledore's eyes twinkled with amusement.

'I am. It's my job,' she said simply.

'Quite,' Dumbledore said mildly. 'As he said, however, he was back here around ten o'clock last night. He came straight to see me, so I can vouch for the accuracy of this report.' Iris nodded in acquiescence.

'Would it be too much to hope for more details of his extra curricular ventures?'

'Yes,' Dumbledore said simply. 'It's still too early. It's not yet safe for anyone else to know anything about it, but him and myself,' Dumbledore paused and regarded Iris in what she thought was a rather peculiar way, although she couldn't quite put her finger on what it was that made it seem peculiar. 'I will let you know when I think it is safe; and then we can both sit and devise a nice little strategy that will hopefully guarantee ours and his non-detection. In the meanwhile, you just keep on practising, dear. It's a wonderful little spell that,' he said suddenly with another twinkle in his eye, which surprised Iris so much she almost lost her composure. How did he know? She almost asked about it, but then it struck her that probably nothing went on inside Hogwarts without Dumbledore's knowledge. She wasn't sure if that made her feel more relieved or less comfortable. 'And you're improving no end at it,' he added, cutting her musings short. 'I almost didn't notice you yesterday!'

'Well, that's not very good then, is it?' she said dryly. 'You shouldn't have noticed. "Almost" isn't good enough!'

'Ah, yes. However, I was expressly looking for you, whereas that is not going to be the case in real life, is it?'

'Let's just say, we hope that's not going to be the case!' she said, not really appeased.

'Don't you worry about it, dear,' Dumbledore insisted. 'You are doing just fine. In fact, more than fine: fantastically well, is the best way to term it; which is the reason I wanted you here in the first place. If I didn't think you were up to the job, I would have hired someone else. Besides, you will have plenty more time to practise, and scheme and plan ahead. I don't predict we will be able to put anything into motion any time very soon. Voldermort seems to be planning well ahead this time and taking his time.' She didn't reply, but looked down at her hands, thinking furiously. Neither of them said anything for a couple of minutes, then she sighed and stood up.

'Ok,' was all she said, and then suddenly smiled. 'I will take your word for it.' Dumbledore smiled back, eyes sparkling kindly again. 'And now, if you don't mind, I'll be off to plan, scheme and connive a bit more.' She grinned broadly at him and headed for the door.

'Don't work too hard now,' she heard Dumbledore's innocent voice behind her. 'You know what happens: "All work and no play..."'

'Oh, for Merlin's sake, Albus! What is this with the "playing" insinuations all the time! Can't you give me a bit more credit?!'

'Oh, but I do my dear, I do. Much more credit than you give yourself! If I'm not very much mistaken, I believe you're capable of things I haven't seen anyone accomplish before.'

'I won't even ask what those things are,' she said wryly and left, to the sounds of Dumbledore's amused chuckles coming from behind the closed door.

(End of Chapter 2)