The Centaur's Shrine

Chapter 11 - The education of Severus Snape

Hogwarts, morning,

Severus was pouring himself a second cup of tea, when an owl flew in the dining hall and dropped the envelope it was carrying in front of him. He picked it up and noticed the silver border and the elaborate Slytherin symbol on the seal. Only old families, and institutions, took the trouble to use those. He broke it and extracted a short letter.

Professor Snape,

We would be delighted to have you as a guest for a dinner and gathering of friends on the 5^th of January. We have also extended this invitation to Mr. Draco Malfoy and Miss Ginevra Weasley. It would be a pleasure to welcome you at our Sussex residence at height o'clock.

Kind regards,

Theodore & Emily Parkinson.

He didn't know the Parkinsons that well, only that they were one of the most respected of Slytherin families. The last time he'd seen them had been when Lucius Malfoy had placed them under the Imperius curse to kidnap Ginny and Hermione. It would seem that they had recovered completely.

You are moving up in the world Severus.

He was folding the letter when Remus and Tonks joined him.

"Good morning Severus."

"Good morning," he replied curtly.

The couple took their place next to him and proceeded to serve themselves. For a moment no one talked. Severus seldom did, and the other two were among those people who needed a cup of tea, or coffee, before anything but the minimal morning interaction. The next few minutes passed in silence.

"We finally got the answer about the Headmaster's Christmas gift," said Tonks.

Severus considered her with polite curiosity. She was referring to the pair of socks inside the mysterious box. Their first reaction had been to treat it as a kind of joke, until they had realized that the Headmaster had been strangely silent and evidently deeply moved.

She described the scene in Harry's first year, when he and the Headmaster had talked in front of the Mirror of Erised.

"When Harry asked him what the mirror was showing to him, Dumbledore replied that he saw a pair of warm woolen socks," she said.

Why would he desire socks? Unless... yes. When such a thing is all that you want, then you are truly happy.

No wonder the Headmaster had been so moved. The gift was a priceless symbol of how Harry felt about him. For an instant, Severus was consumed with an overwhelming feeling of jealousy. He would have liked to be in Dumbledore's place. Powerful and loved. The unusual burst of emotion didn't last, and he quickly got himself under control.

Why do I feel these things? I never yearned for love, and I know the price of power.

He looked at Remus who didn't seem particularly affected. It was obvious that the man was happy with what he had. They got along well enough together, treating each other as friends, but he couldn't comprehend his lack of ambition.

That's why he wasn't sorted in your House, Severus.

"I still don't understand why he made such big deal out of it," continued Tonks. "He knows Harry likes him."

"Ah, but he feared that he'd lost it," responded McGonagall, who was just coming in.

"What do you mean?" asked the young Auror.

Minerva placed a roll on her plate and thoughtfully selected some coarse cut marmalade.

"You weren't with him that morning," she replied. She held her cup and silently asked for Severus to pour her some tea. "He was completely devastated."

They looked at her in fascination. None of them had any recollection of what had happened that night, and the Headmaster systematically evaded all questions. Any morsel of information would be welcome.

"Do you remember anything?" asked Remus.

"No of course not. For me like for everybody else, nothing appended after going into the Chamber of Secrets. The next thing I remember is waking up in the Gryffondor common room, but I was with the Headmaster when Harry and his friends came asking for explanations."

Severus frowned. That was not how he would describe his memory. He was aware that a period of time had passed. He just couldn't bring the events into focus.

"What did they say?" asked Tonks.

"The Headmaster told Harry that he'd done something necessary but terrible. Something that he was sure would haunt and cripple them. That's why he took it upon himself to Obliviate all of us."

"I supposed that he feared that Harry would resent someone taking such a decision about him," said Remus. "I remember I was upset about it."

"But that's not what happened at all," said McGonagall. "I was more than upset myself. I was furious, but Harry almost kissed him in gratitude."

They digested that fact for a minute.

"Harry has always felt very strongly about killing and death," said Remus. He exchanged a knowing looks with Tonks who nodded silently.

"I would still like to know what actually happened," said Severus, "and why it was so terrible."

"Can't you guess?" asked Remus softly, turning toward him.

Severus frowned.

"No."

Remus looked at him with some pity. He hadn't bothered to ask Dumbledore, because he knew how Harry and the other had destroyed Voldemort. They'd taken all their love and feeling for each other, and those sentiments had been so incompatible with the Dark Lord, that it had destroyed him.

He wondered if Severus was capable of understanding that. It was probably impossible for him to appreciate how painful it had been for the boy to do such a thing.

Severus waited for an explanation. After a moment, he realized that none would be coming. It annoyed him, but he made an effort not to show it. He quickly finished his breakfast and left the hall.

Walking back toward his office, he tried to concentrate on his memory. Something strange was there. An Obliviate spell didn't leave any trace, but he could sense that something had happened. What had been done to him was not at all what the others were describing.

I've got a memory block, not an Obliviation. Why?

There was only one person who could answer that question. He changed directions and marched toward the Headmaster's office. The passage opened when he called out the password, and he marched right in.

"Sir?"

"Good morning Severus, please come in."

Dumbledore was seated at his desk. His pensieve was placed in front of him. The old wizard looked at him calmly. Severus didn't pretend or waste any time.

"Why did you block my memory Albus?" he asked brusquely.

The portraits on the wall scowled disapprovingly at his lack of manners. The Headmaster ignored the provocation. He sat back in his chair and considered the professor thoughtfully.

"How is your work with Mrs. Parker proceeding?" he inquired.

Severus' eyes narrowed. So, he knew about that. He was only half surprised.

"What has that got to do with my question?"

A hint of amusement showed in the old wizard's face.

"With the question, not much, but with the answer, a great deal."

He frowned. The man was back to talking in riddles It was insufferable, but he knew he'd never get anywhere unless he played his game.

"I have found some new facts about potion making." He briefly described the results of their experiments. Dumbledore's eyes opened wider, and he was clearly interested by what he was hearing.

"Both of you appear to make a remarkable team," he said finally.

Severus didn't like to admit it, but he had to concur that the woman had played an important part in their discoveries. He wasn't too sure about describing their relationship as teamwork however.

Dumbledore stayed silent, forcing him to continue to think about their cooperation, the word seemed somehow more neutral. They did work well together, which was in itself noteworthy. He had always worked alone before.

"Would you say she is just another Muggle parent of wizards?" continued the Headmaster.

"No ... I would not." What is he getting at?

Dumbledore nodded absently.

"I have always felt that we didn't take them seriously enough." He waived his hand negligently. "But you already know my sentiments about the common wizard attitude."

And you wonder why they call you a Muggle lover, thought Severus.

"I hope you will continue in this direction," added Dumbledore. "I am certain that you will learn a great deal more."

"I plan to, certainly." Severus surprised himself in saying the words. He did want to continue, and not only for the precious knowledge that he hoped to gain. It had been a pleasant moment.

"Good, good." Dumbledore's attitude suddenly changed, and he looked at the potion master with measuring eyes. "Do you still want me to answer your question?"

Severus immediately went on the defensive. What did the old man want? Anger mounted inside him. Stop meddling with me!

"What - are - you - doing?" he hissed, biting off every word.

He got no response, and then he remembered that Dumbledore was first and foremost a teacher. That was the key to anything he did. Others would act directly, or seek knowledge, or power. His reaction to most situations was to find a potential student, and educate him in what he felt was needed. Realizing this, some of his anger abated.

I'm the student here, but what does he hope to teach me, and why?

The Headmaster projected endless patience, while Severus was becoming extremely uncomfortable. Actually, he'd been unbalanced since their last meeting. There was nothing specific that he could put his finger on. Nothing menaced him. He had a good situation, fascinating projects to pursue, friends and the respect of his peers.

I should be happy, instead I am ... confused.

He'd thought that he'd learned the Headmaster's previous lesson. He had vowed to go forward and accept his life. It was difficult to change the habit of a lifetime, but he honestly believed he was doing a good job of it.

He looked back at him. Evidently he didn't think it was enough.

Why couldn't the old man answer a simple question? Was there some terrible secret behind it? Severus suddenly shivered at the idea that what had happened that day might be the key to a tremendous power. It could explain why Dumbledore had erased their memories. To keep the secret.

"... power that the Dark Lord has not ..."

He went back to what McGonagall had said this morning, reviewing her words, searching for clues. He found none, except for his impression that they had been Obliviated, while he had only been blocked.

A memory block can be removed with time. He must know that I can break it eventually, so why did he do it?

There was only one explanation.

"You wanted me to be able to remember," he said flatly. "Then why block the memory at all?"

"Surely you can deduce the answer to that."

Severus thought about it. All that had been done was to gain, or lose, time.

"To give me time to get used to it?" That didn't even sound reasonable.

The Headmaster shook his head slowly. Severus was sure something big was coming. He could feel his excitement mounting. Power which defeated the Dark Lord! It was probably something derived from the committement magic which Harry had used with him, although what committement the boy could have had with the Dark Lord was something he couldn't imagine.

"Is this power so dangerous that I need to strengthen myself to ..." He stopped as Dumbledore exploded into surprised laughter.

Severus was mortified. He watched, uncomprehending, as the Headmaster guffawed uncontrollably, his face a deformed mask of mirth, with tears running into his beard.

"Albus?"

There was nothing to do but wait for the fit to pass. Evidently he'd just made a complete fool of himself, and if it had been anybody else in front of him, he would leave now and never return. He buried his acute embarrassment under a returning feeling of anger. After a moment Dumbledore regained control of himself and wiped his eyes.

"Forgive me Severus," he said, smoothing his beard, "but that was so unexpected." His lips twitched, but he didn't start laughing again.

"Sir," said Severus stiffly, "I have the greatest respect for you, but this is too much. If you will not answer my question then we have nothing more to discuss."

Dumbledore raised a calming hand.

"Please. I assure you that I am not playing games with you." His expression returned to a serious mien. "I will answer your question."

Severus' face was unreadable. He closed his arms against his chest and waited for the rest.

"Harry and his friends used a tremendous power indeed, but it is not dangerous, at least not in the usual sense of the word. I do not yet understand everything that happened either, but that is not why I suppressed these memories."

The Headmaster's face became grim, completely different from what it had been a few seconds ago.

"Why did you do it?" asked Severus stubbornly.

"To remove the guilt." The other man frowned, but the Headmaster gestured for him to listen. "Harry's power is to express and inspire love. This is what bonds them together, beyond what their training or Miss Lovegood's talent can achieve. In that supreme moment, even the rest of the students joined in, as well as other forces residing in these walls."

Severus grimaced. He could understand intellectually some of what the Headmaster was saying, but beyond his disappointment, he found the subject acutely embarrassing, and somehow repugnant.

"This love is what really destroyed Voldemort's soul," continued Dumbledore. "There was some conventional magic which took care of his body and the enchantments he had prepared, but without the love he would have escaped like he did sixteen years ago."

Dumbledore looked at him.

"Can you understand how terrible this was?"

Severus' mouth twisted into a sneer. So Harry's good little heart had been hurt by having had to destroy one of the most evil of men. Merlin knew he admired the boy, but there should be a limit to chivalry.

"He had to take a hard decision," he replied. "Surely he could live with it?" As he spoke the words, he knew that he was refusing to see something, but he pushed the thought away.

Dumbledore shook his head, and regret showed on his face. "It was not just a hard decision, and Harry does not lack for courage. I was hoping that you would understand." He looked sadly at the man in front of him. "Intelligence is not everything after all," he murmured.

Severus held himself rigidly. The Headmaster's evident disappointment was like a slap in the face.

"You know," he continued, "it was really quite remarkable. Everyone was devastated, except for you."

"Why did you block me, and not the others?" he repeated coldly.

"I have just told you why. To give you another chance at comprehending what was at stake." He sighed. "I want you to succeed me, Severus, but it will never happen until you realize that your heart is as important as your mind."

He gestured toward the pensieve.

"I have placed here the key which will unlock your memory. The choice to use it is yours, but if this cannot help you, then I do not know what can."

He sat back in his chair and rested his chin on his clasped hands, with his elbows on the armrests.

Severus looked at the pensieve as if it was some poisonous animal. The Headmaster appeared completely indifferent to his decision.

He didn't really have a choice, so he took it and left silently. Back to his quarters, he locked the door, placed the pensieve on the little table next to the fireplace, and sat down next to it. Confusion and shame filled his mind. Confusion at what the Headmaster was trying to tell him, and shame at his evident failure to understand.

Logic told him what it had to be. Emotions, feelings, love had been the foremost elements in Harry's victory, a vital force which Voldemort couldn't possibly understand, but which was very difficult for him as well. All his life these had been weaknesses for him. Flaws in his armor which others had used to hurt him. He had purged them out of his soul, and he knew that he wouldn't have survived otherwise.

Thinking about these things made him acutely uncomfortable, like when he remembered the few recent occasions when he had opened up to others. In retrospect, he was terrified to realize how defenseless he had been. He couldn't understand why others did it.

They tolerate the weakness because they are weak, and because they stay away from the strong ones.

It was a satisfying theory, for a Slytherin, but there were glaring exceptions.

Is Dumbledore weak? Harry? Of course not. They won the war after all.

Perhaps he was incapable of understanding after all. Maybe it had been burned out of him, or maybe it was just not in his nature.

Maybe I am like Voldemort. A creature of intelligence and will, but not of feelings.

The thought was frightening. He didn't think of himself as evil, maybe he was a kind of benevolent dark wizard. He shook his head angrily. This line of thoughts was stupid.

He looked at the pensieve.

Maybe the answer is in there.

He was suddenly very much afraid. Certainly the headmaster had acted for a good reason.

I'm a coward.

Why should he accept this ordeal as something to submit to before being considered for the Headmaster position? He was as qualified as anybody else.

Then why am I afraid?

Severus Snape had many faults, he was egoistical, stubborn and misanthropic, but he didn't lie to himself, and he was not a coward. He stayed away from emotions, because he didn't want to lose what he had won through mental strength and willpower.

Because I could count on nothing else, but maybe the rules have changed.

He bent down toward the pensieve and his hands were shaking. He forced himself to touch the sides of the object. His stomach was a ball of lead in his belly.

I will just restore those thoughts which were mine. It didn't kill me then, it won't hurt me now.

Like a child taking his first dive from the high board, he forced himself to act without thinking and triggered the key. The recalled memory played in his mind like a film.

He was going inside the Chamber with the others. They had just finished fighting the Death Eaters through the remote control of the modified simulator balls. Between these and the remaining Aurors, they had managed to dispatch almost half of the attacking force. It had been meaningless in a tactical sense, Voldemort was inside the walls and no defenses were left to stop him. The real goal had been to convince the enemy that he was wining, to lure him into the trap.

He was gliding down the Chamber's access tunnels, rejoining the others. All the students were seated in the main room, under the hard face of Salazar Slytherin, their dreamy faces lost in trance. Harry and his friends were in a circle. In the center, the Sorting Hat was levitating and humming to itself. The adults watched and waited.

The children were evidently sharing the same emotions. It was written on their faces. A positive, confident expression of strength. Then the attack began.

A soft golden light permeated the room. It was brightest around the Six. Severus was looking at Harry's face, and his features displayed a beautiful angelical expression. The other five were the same, even Draco. He was embarrassed to witness such a thing. It was the purest sort of sentiment and he could see that the others were captivated. They could all feel it now. The magically amplified emotions were like the reactions to a majestic orchestra playing a poignant symphony. Something was different though. He was more sensitive to it now than in his memory.

In the background, a terrible scream could be heard. It was barely audible, but only because it was so far away. He would have turned, except for what was before him. Harry's face was deforming into a nightmarish vision, an unholy mix of horror and passion. He was reminded of the sadistic look of pleasure he had often seen on Bellatrix Lestrange. The younger students showed the expressions of terrorized innocents caught up in a brutal tragedy. Some opened their mouth to scream but no sounds could be heard. The projected feelings became darker, radiating an unbearable sense of disgust and pain.

It lasted for a long time, gaining in intensity and horror, until it seemed impossible to bear. Severus was not a squeamish man, but seeing his pupils in such a hellish atmosphere was more than he could stand. He couldn't hear the screams anymore, but several of the children were twisting about and holding their heads. The Six were almost invisible, lost in a blaze of golden light.

It finally stopped. The release from the pressure was overpowering. He gasped for breath and tried to see Harry in the fading light. When finally could, his face was a mask of anguish. The boy's gaze found his own, and he heaved a sob. The rest of the students started to cry as well. The memory Severus only felt relief that it was over, but reliving the event was leaving him as drained as the others, and he could feel the sweat running down his face.

What followed was a long drudgery of cleaning up. The replay ended when Dumbledore waived his wand in front of his face.

Severus released the pensieve and slumped back in his chair. He closed his eyes and shivered. For several long minutes, he did nothing but breathe. The first coherent thought in his mind was a citation he'd once read.

Nothing is a sad as a battle won - except a battle lost.

He could sympathize with the Headmaster now. It had truly been a terrible moment and it was a kindness to have suppressed it.

So now he knew the truth. What lessons was he supposed to extract from it? He recalled another phrase he had spoken.

"... Intelligence is not everything after all ..."

The kids hadn't used spells or rituals to merge their minds like that. They had opened their hearts, even Draco, and the resulting union had vanquished the most powerful Dark Lord.

But the end result was less interesting than the means. Something which he had considered a liability had been the essential step in victory. So much for calling it a weakness.

Then there was that last image. The old, tired face of Dumbledore after the event. The lines of despair and guilt carved on his wrinkled skin, the silent, dead eyes. He remembered McGonagall's description of the morning's meeting, and the reverse transformation when the boy had accepted his decision and thanked him.

So there was something powerful in there after all. As he re-analyzed the situation he could even see the logic of it, but the more he thought about it, the more alien it seem.

A wave of self pity came over him as he told himself that this was indeed a great and wonderful power, but that it would never be his.

It was just too hard for him.

- - -

Grimauld Place,

The first thing the Avengers did that morning, even before breakfast, was to borrow Draco's owl and send the letter to the Weasley twins, along with a short note explaining their actions and choice of name.

A quick scan of the Marauder's guide showed it to be full of practical tips for exploring the structure of the school, as well as a list of simple spells to help them do so discretely. Of these the Shadow charm seemed the most interesting. It allowed a person to hide almost perfectly, as long as it stayed in the shadow of a light source, and unmoving. Richard also noted with satisfaction that an entire chapter was devoted to Filch and Madam Norris, detailing a number of weak points and suggesting several interesting, if highly disrespectful, strategies to deal with them.

The missive arrived at Weasley's Wizard Wheezes. Fred checked the sender's address distractedly, but immediately interrupted what he was doing when he understood what it meant.

"George!"

A red head popped up from behind a complex contraption, vaguely resembling a miniature Quidditch stadium.

"Hmm?"

"They did it!"

"The kids?"

"Yep."

He frowned. "Their vacation is not over yet. How could they have done it already?"

"They found a passage between Grimauld and the School. I knew they had the touch."

"These three will go far. Mark my words."

"Funny name they chose: 'The Avengers'. They say it's from a Muggle," he looked at the letter again, "teevee series."

"What's that?"

"Don't know, but we can ask Dimitri."

Dimitri Tadpool was one of their Muggle born friends who had left school a year before them. He sometime worked for the shop, while waiting for a real full time job. They finished the morning's business and went to contact him during the lunch break. He remembered the series very well and tried to explain the general idea.

"I think there's a photo book on it in my parent's home. Wait a minute, and I'll see if I can find it."

Before the afternoon opening hour, Fred and George knew enough about the Avengers characters and theme to understand the trio's choice, and to approve.

"We promised them a bonus," remembered Fred, looking at the pictures.

"And I have the same idea as you," replied George.

"Madam Malkin's?"

"By all means."

- - -

The next day, a large box was discretely delivered to 12, Grimauld Place, addressed to Alicia and Richard Parker, and Silena Malfoy. The children quickly took it up to their rooms and opened it with more excitement than for their Christmas presents.

"Whoa!"

Richard took out a magnificent bowler hat, while the girls found two pairs of shiny black leather boots, magically charmed to fit them. A note signed by Fred and George accompanied the gifts, expressing their congratulations, and wishing them the best in their now official status of Hogwarts pranksters. A post-scriptum added that the hat and boots were equipped with self reduction charms for easy storage, and that they possessed additional properties that they would surely discover by themselves in time.

When Richard read that last he immediately took off the hat, suddenly anxious at what the wonted jokesters might have prepared for them. Alicia mocked him, and he was finally convinced that it couldn't be anything really dangerous. He tapped the hat with his wand and watched it being reduced to something he could put in his pocket. Another tap and the hat recovered its normal size.

"At least we're now fully equipped for the next term. I can't wait for it to start."

- - -

London,

Severus met Helen in front of Grimauld Place for their planned follow up experiment. The drive to the Imperial College was uneventful. He had chosen to wear a black casual suit. At her suggestion, he removed the tie and stored it in a pocket. They didn't talk much at first. He asked her to describe what her work consisted of, and she began to explain the mechanics of protein folding, and the use of crystallography. At one point, she stole a glance at him, and it was plain that he was badly lost.

"I'm afraid it's really a highly specialized domain," she said in apology. "There are some introductory presentations which I could show you, but I was not planning on going into that today."

He smiled wryly, and his voice was a little strained. He evidently didn't relish the idea of being ignorant in any subject.

"Yes I think it would be better if we kept to simpler things."

"Don't take it bad. I've been taking courses and practicing for more than ten years."

Privately, he was beginning to wonder what he could expect from this. It appeared more complicated every time he looked at it. He could drop the subject for now, but it did leave him with a need to talk about something else. Family could be a sensitive subject. He remembered from his Muggle studies courses, that most of these peoples had hobbies and side interests.

"Besides your work, what do you usually do?"

"For fun?"

He shrugged. "Yes."

"Well I like sports, and I'm into a number of clubs with the younger teachers."

They had arrived at their destination, and she drove into the faculty parking. Severus looked around. At least the buildings weren't made of glass and steel, but it was still a far cry from the Hogwarts castle.

"Sports?"

"Yes. Archery and rock climbing actually."

I guess that explains the strong handshake.

She locked the car and led the way inside.

"Archery. Do you hunt animals? I thought you used more powerful weapons for that."

She chuckled. "No, no hunting. I only practice on targets. It's not something that has any application in real life. I'm just doing it for amusement."

"Ah."

They walked up a set of stairs and followed a corridor.

"And yourself?"

"In sports?" he asked. She nodded. "Nothing special, a little endurance and muscle exercises."

"It doesn't sound like something you'd be doing for fun."

He looked at her. He didn't see himself explaining that the main reason was to survive torture sessions and deadly battles.

"No, not for fun."

She didn't press. "Anything else?"

"When I'm not teaching, I like to spend time in private research." He looked at her. "Nothing as organized as what you do, I suppose. Most wizards work alone, or with a few correspondents."

They continued toward the lab area. She showed him a small office with the usual setup of computer screen and a mess of papers and documents.

"This is where I work. The actual lab is just down the corridor."

He looked around, trying to identify what he could. There was a very large poster on the wall with dozens of boxes and labels, liked by arrows. Intrigued, he moved closer and tried to decipher the diagrams. Nothing meant anything to him.

"That's the schematic for the Krebs cycle," she explained. "It's a kind of tradition to have one on a wall somewhere."

"What does it mean?" he asked, afraid to say anything precise.

"It's probably the most important biochemical processing in animals. In a very simplified way, it describes how we extract energy from food in order to make our muscles work."

"Oh."

"Very pretty isn't it?"

"Well ..."

She chuckled. "I'm not being fair to you. I'd be amazed, if you could understand more than a few details." He winced as she once again made him realize how incompetent he was, even if she evidently was not doing it on purpose. She continued more seriously. "The human body is a very complex chemical machine. Basically my area of work is to try to make sense of as much as possible of it."

He wanted to ask why someone would spend years in such a pursuit, but once again, he supposed that the answer would be obvious to her, and only serve to highlight his lack of knowledge. She saved him the embarrassment.

"One major reason is to find cure for diseases."

Yes. He remembered that Muggle didn't enjoy the immunity to illnesses that was one clear advantage of magical folks. He wondered if she knew that.

"Wizards don't get sick," he said curtly.

"Oh, yes. I'd forgotten that."

He smiled a little more smugly than he should have, but she didn't seem to mind.

They talked a little more, and Helen demonstrated other aspects of her research. The computer was an impressive tool, he wasn't sure that he understood how it worked exactly, but it was plain that she was using it intensively. They went over to the laboratories. The familiar vision of beakers and test tubes gave him back some assurance.

"From what I saw," she explained, "a big difference between your 'wet' work and mine is that since we can't use magic, we have to rely on very precise dosage and temperature control, hence these mechanical tools." She went on to explain the role of a few of the machines, and his sense of despair returned. After a moment she looked at him and saw his despondent face.

"Are you all right?"

"No." He sighed, thoroughly deflated.

"I do not exactly know what I expected," he continued, "but I am frankly bewildered by all this. What I was hoping to achieve looks impossible."

Merging the science of their two worlds had seemed such a powerful idea, but it was turning into a fool's quest. He looked at his portable chest and found that he didn't even want to try out the tests he'd planned for today.

"What did you want to do exactly?"

Severus supposed that might as well tell her. He explained how he would have liked to explore new directions in potion making using Muggle techniques.

"However I am now all too aware of the incredible complexity of your science, and the many differences in the most basic of procedures. It would take years to simply prepare for such a project."

She thought about it.

"Well maybe, but I for one would like to spend some more time on it before giving it up as a lost cause. Both subjects are highly complex and specialized, and they don't share the same logic at all, but something unexpected might yet come out of it."

Her optimistic words made him feel a little better. He gave a wry smile and gestured toward the chest.

"I hope you are not mistaken. The least I can do in response is to test how well, or how bad, my skills apply here."

"That's the spirit. I'll clear a spot for you."

Severus brewed two potions and checked the quality of the result. One was supposed to strengthen any material, and so it was fairly easy to measure the effect. He tested it on a piece of string and determined the breaking point, both with the new potion, and with one he'd prepared the day before at Hogwarts.

"The difference is quite important," she remarked.

"Yes. The effect of an 'ideal' brew is at least half as much as one made here."

"And did you test it in your laboratory?"

He smiled. "I did not forget your teachings. The effect is reduced here as well, but the place of brewing is still the most important factor."

She smiled back at him. "That's seems logical."

He sighed again and began to pack his tools.

"At least I have learned some useful things. Thank you again for your precious help."

"I'm glad we did it. It was fun, and I learned a lot as well. Do you want to grab a coffee?"

He hesitated. He was still very disappointed. Going back to Hogwarts would at least bring him back into the comfort of his familiar environment, but he would probably just keep on thinking about this failure and it would be depressing. He looked at her and decided that he would like share her company for a while longer.

"All right."

They retraced their steps and walked along the deserted corridors. At one point they heard exclamations coming from a nearby classroom. As they went past it, the sound level rose sharply and it sounded like a struggle.

"Damn it! There's a troll!"

"Protection spells everyone!"

"Move out of the way. I'm going to cast a fireball."

Severus took out his wand with the speed of a gunslinger and crouched in a defensive posture, facing the door behind which the sounds were coming. When no monster came out, he rushed forward to kick it open, and Helen barely managed to catch his arm. Once again he was surprised at her strength.

"Don't! It's just some peoples playing a game."

He looked at her in incomprehension. Muggles playing a game with a Troll? He saw that she was trying not to laugh at his reaction.

"It's a role playing game of sorcery and adventure," she explained.

"Role playing?" he asked, frowning.

She described it in a few words and he listened in amazement. These people were incredible. The Ministry was forever trying to keep wizards activity a secret, and they had a whole industry of games and stories about magic.

"I know this group. I often play with them. Do you want to have a look?"

He wasn't sure about that, but curiosity got the better of him and he nodded.

They were three young men and one woman, seated around a table with papers, books and small figurines. One of the men was behind a cardboard panel.

The players greeted them absently, fully taken as they were by their battle. Severus was wondering if he had entered some kind of asylum. He could understand that it was a game, but the 'wizards' used the most ridiculous spells he had ever heard of, and why did they have Muggle barbarians to fight and do things that magic could do much better? Then there was this obsession with rolling dices. At first he'd thought that it was some kind of divination device, but they kept talking of probabilities.

It's just a game and it has nothing to do with reality.

He stole a glance at Helen, and he saw that she was following the action with undisguised passion. She had apparently forgotten all about coffee. He would have reminded her, but he was strangely reticent to interrupt, and in truth it was not unpleasant to see her like this. That woman was an enigma. How could she reconcile her obvious intelligence with such childish behavior? With a start he realized that once again, he was the odd man out. Harry and his friends, Dumbledore and now Helen. All of them playing whenever they had the chance to.

Bless McGonagall and her serious mien. I never felt closer to her.

Severus couldn't imagine 'having fun' at anything. He'd never liked games and the most enjoyable activity he could think of would be to decipher the long lost potions notes of Merlin. He imagined himself opening the dusty volume in his private quarters.

Alone.

What about what he had done with Helen the other day? Yes that had been a fine moment. The thrill of discovery and the pleasure of intellectual exchange. He looked at her again. They were all hanging on to the result of every combat, and even he was beginning to find their actions captivating. The system for computing damage was simple but effective. As the battle drew to an end, two characters were lying unconscious on the ground. He understood that they could be cured - by the survivor, if he could manage to kill the last Troll.

"Critical hit!" More dices were rolled. "37 points."

"Okay, the Troll's dead." Cheers broke out.

"I search the corpse, and then I'm pouring burning oil on him."

Burning oil? What in the world for?

"Right. You find a small wooden amulet and 5 gold pieces."

The dungeon master passed the players a drawing of what the amulet looked like. Severus twisted his neck and tried to analyze the pseudo runes he could see on it. It didn't make any sense but maybe it was some kind of code.

"Shall we go?" asked Helen, interrupting his thoughts.

"Hmm?" He checked himself. "Yes, by all means."

They said goodbye to the group and left the room, moving toward the exit.

"So you actually play that game?" he asked.

"Oh yes. I'd been playing for years before meeting Ethan, I even made him join my old gang." She stopped talking for a moment. She continued with a subdued voice. "I stopped right after ..." she lost focus. "Then I started again when Alicia and Richard left for Hogwarts. It was - I don't know, a way to be closer to them," she added wishfully, turning away.

He could understand how hard it must be for her to be astride two universes, not being fully part of either, and being alone as well. Loneliness was something he was familiar with. His usual reaction to pain in others was self protective indifference, but for some strange reason he felt a need to do something.

"I'm sorry." The lack of anything more comforting to say bothered him. On an impulse, he reached out and touched her arm. She moved to turn back toward him and his hand brushed against her side and back. He jerked it back as if he'd just touched a burning surface. She glanced at it and raised her eyes, giving him a look of sympathy.

"You don't like to touch people don't you," she said gently.

"I ..." He swallowed. "No."

"Why do you try to be such a hard and strong man? I can see that you have feelings like everybody else."

Why are they all coming at me like that?

He shook his head violently.

"For Merlin's sake!" he snapped. She jerked backward.

The incessant calling out for his emotions was taking his toll on him. He would have screamed in rage, but the Headmaster was right. Anger was not the solution anymore. He didn't know what was. Like a desperate man on the verge of a cliff, he was clinging to branches and struggling not to fall. He took a deep breath.

"This is not ... easy for me," he said more calmly.

She looked at him. Curiosity had replaced sadness. She wanted to ask him what the matter was, but it was plain that he was trying very hard to keep himself under control. Her spontaneous response would have been to try and get into the open whatever was bothering him, but the man was too much of a mystery for her. He wasn't some shy boy, unsure of himself. She had seen the strength of his personality. His reaction that of someone battered by unknown pressures. She said nothing and moved away a little. Giving him some vital space seemed to do the trick, because he relaxed visibly, all the while keeping his eyes turned away from her.

"Coffee?" she asked after a moment. He nodded curtly, and they resumed walking.

Thankfully the cafeteria was empty. She indicated a corner table. He went to sit there and looked at absently at his right hand, slowly flexing the fingers. She got two cups of coffee, some cream and sugar and joined him. He took a careful sip of his, and then drained the cup.

"I take it you like our brew?" she asked lightly.

He nodded again, and then raised his face at last. Her eyes begged unvoiced questions.

"Please forgive me," he said. "Personal troubles," he added vaguely.

"Do you want to talk about it?" she asked gently.

He took some time before answering.

"I do not know," he said finally. He checked himself, realizing how stupid his answer was. "I mean no. I still need to think about it."

"Too much thinking is not always a good thing. Sometimes it's better to talk with a friend."

He looked at her and reminded himself that she was not some silly, emotion ridden girl, but a very intelligent woman.

And if anyone is emotion ridden here, it's bloody well me.

"I hope you can consider me as a friend," she continued. "Even if we don't know each other very well."

Her words made him think of the few friends he had, present and past. Lucius, Dumbledore, Harry, Remus. Better now than before, certainly. Friendship was not always an easy thing, both for him and for them, but it had helped him a lot.

"I would be happy to be your friend," he replied softly.

A cheerful smile brightened her features, surprising him. He couldn't remember ever having brought such a reaction to anyone before. The feeling was unsettling but whatever it was, he wanted to do it again.

"Thank you. I would be glad to have a friend among ..." She gestured in the air.

"Wizard folks?"

"Yes."

He looked her carefully and tried to analyze the situation objectively.

"That game, your interest in potions. You really want to be part of our world."

She nodded, suddenly reticent, as if she was admitting to a fault. Her hands played with her empty cup.

"Do you realize the difficulties?" he asked gently.

She looked up at him for just an instant. Yearning and a touch of pain showed in her eyes, and then she turned away and shrugged.

"Whatever I do. It's going to be hard." She forced a smile. "Maybe I'll find someone else, another Ethan."

She's a Muggle. She doesn't belong. It can only cause trouble.

Logic told him it was not a good idea, and normally that would be enough for Severus Snape. He would do what he felt was his duty. It might not be pleasant, but it was the guarantee of a well ordered universe.

Sure. With logic Voldemort would still be there. Some order.

He remembered the chaos of the Chamber of Secret, and the Headmaster's words of the previous day.

"... your heart is as important as your mind ..."

He looked at the woman in front of him, whom he had just called a friend, and who was evidently desperate for a chance to come back to the community which had rejected her. He made a decision.

"Helen?"

She looked up, her eyes hoping that he would say something encouraging.

"There are several occasions when parents are invited to the school, or to the village," he started. The previous sunny smile had returned on her face, maybe even brighter. "I can arrange this for you, and perhaps other things as well. Would you like that?"

He didn't have to ask. Her expression was eloquent enough. He couldn't help smiling himself. A warm sensation of contentment filled him.

"Thank you. You don't know what it would mean to me."

"I can see that." She chuckled as if it was a laughing matter, but her eyes were a little bright.

"Do you want another cup?"

"No. I think that I will be going now."

"Can I drive you somewhere?"

"That will not be necessary. I will find a quiet spot and Disapparate."

"I can show you a good place for that."

They left the cafeteria and she led the way to one of the courtyard. There was a small recess between two buildings.

"No one will see you from here." He looked around to check and nodded in agreement. When he turned back toward her, she suddenly launched herself and hugged him fiercely. He froze rigidly before awkwardly wrapping his arms around her shoulders.

"I know you don't like to be touched," she murmured, "but I want you to know that I really appreciate what you're doing." He grunted but didn't protest.

She released him. He grimaced in embarrassment, but his hand stayed a little longer against her arm.

"I have enjoyed the time we have spent together Helen. I will be glad to see you again."

"Me too."

He stepped away and she waved at him.

"Bye bye."

His hand gestured in response. He smiled one last time and Disapparated. Helen looked at the empty spot where he'd just been and hugged herself gleefully. She walked toward her car in brisk, dancing steps, and thinking happy thoughts.

The Centaur's Shrine: Chapter 11 - The education of Severus Snape 1

The education of Severus Snape Ch11 - 19