Severus Snape and the Last Year

Level 3.2: The Spring

When he was eight, Severus Snape had wanted to be an Auror. His father was a curse breaker, so he thought it would be a good idea to start by studying curses. He had begun with his father's books, slipping them off the shelf after he had gone to work, replacing them carefully before he came home. He had learned a lot that way, far more than an eight-year-old should know.

Severus stopped his wayward prefect in the Great Hall before dinner. "Mr. Malfoy, I need you to escort the first years to their Astronomy lesson this evening."

Draco nodded. He looked paler than usual, evidently had not gotten much summer sun, though it struck Severus that the boy was now slightly taller than him. That was annoying. The nervous, assessing expression Draco wore was beginning to get annoying too, but the Great Hall was hardly the place for a confrontation. He allowed Draco to slither away again. He noticed that Persephone touched the boy's elbow with a brief reassuring gesture as he once again sat down beside her. Severus ignored a twinge of jealousy as he made his own way to the high table. He wished he could sit beside her at meals too, but also he knew it was not an option.

Minerva waved him over to sit by her again, but this time she did have something to say. "You may need to do some damage control," she said, sliding an open copy of the Quibbler to him. It was obvious which article she was referencing.

Heartache of a Death Eater's Son:

Malfoy-Muggle Scandal in the Making?

Severus grimaced. This would explain the boy's drawn appearance. Lucius was no doubt in a fervor. He read the article and quickly translated the truth between the lies. Someone had spotted Draco and Persephone at a hotel during their flight and mistaken her for a Muggle.

"Do you know he injured Ms. Granger's hand this morning?" Minerva continued. Severus raised a startled eyebrow at this information. He had seen the bandage in class, but had also heard her telling her friend Potter she was fine. Minor injuries being rather common at Hogwarts, he had not considered it worth further investigation. "She said it was an accident. He was upset by the article and exploded a goblet, but accidental magic at his age?" Minerva sniffed.

Severus felt a cold pit in his stomach. That confirmed a measure of truth to the account. Malfoy had very strong feelings over whatever had occurred in that hotel. Severus found them with his eyes, sitting so closely, too comfortably for a week's acquaintance. Draco's hand grazed Persephone's back to get her attention, and he got it for a moment before they skittishly looked away as though they might betray some secret. The rage that welled up inside him might have shattered a few goblets if it had not been checked by an equally intense despair.

"I'll deal with," he told Minerva, his voice a perfect mask of calm.

The Malfoy boy looked his way. Draco Malfoy with his perfectly sculpted face, perfect hair, perfect teeth, perfect posture, athletic build, not as commanding as his father but moving with his mother's grace, far more approachable. This golden haired prince had rescued his silver girl and taken her to a hotel.

****************

By morning, the despair had won out. Persephone was beside Draco again at breakfast. Severus watched her play with the potions kit he had bought her, watched Malfoy take the note he had written before Persephone even had a chance to look at it. Draco looked his way briefly, when Malfoy turned back to Persephone she gave him a secretive smile. The note was making it's way around the Slytherin girls, and Severus felt like they were laughing at him.

He had clearly misinterpreted Tuesday's conversation. When she spoke of our children, she must have meant his and hers, not theirs. He had heard what he had wanted to hear. He did not doubt his friendship was dear to her, but he had been a fool to think she wanted more.

He had thought her too innocent, too pure to be seduced, but he knew she had always found Lucius attractive. After twenty years without being touched, how could he blame her for falling for her rescuer? Draco had no Narcissa. Pansy Parkinson was a poor substitute. Severus cursed her vapidity, and his own reflection in the lavatory mirror.

Large hook nose, sallow complexion, careworn forehead, beady black eyes...he was beginning to develop jowls. No, he could hardly blame Persephone for choosing someone else. He just had to hope Draco Malfoy was not the playboy his reputation sometimes suggested. As bad as it was to lose her, it would be worse to see her used and discarded.

He went through his lessons automatically, showing no emotion, doing his best not to feel. He wished he could not hear the first year girls whisper.

"You know that silver girl walked with us up to the Astronomy Tower," one of his Slytherins whispered to a Gryffindor friend. "I think they must have been snogging or something. They were still on the stairs when we came out, and he kept her down in the common room with him after we went to bed."

"Wow," the Gryffindor whispered back. "You think that article about him was-?"

"No talking," Severus admonished, and they fell mercifully silent.

She was waiting for him again outside his office when classes finished. He knew it was unfair, but he could not bring himself to greet her. He merely unlocked the door and walked inside. She followed him and closed it behind.

He set his notes down on his desk and swallowed. She slipped her hand in his, and for one terrible moment, he hoped she had been used, that her innocence was gone, and when Draco left her, she would be broken down with only him to comfort her. In the next second, he turned enough to see her eyes and hated himself for the thought. She needed his protection, not his self pity. He loved her and could never wish her pain.

He put his mask of disinterested friend on and spoke without emotion. "Persephone, I think we need to talk about Draco Malfoy."

Her features lit up. "Oh, Draco! I love Draco!" She smiled brightly while the knife twisted in his heart, but he refused to show it. "He's absolutely adorable, don't you think?" He did not know what to think. All he could do was keep the mask in place. "It's like someone took the best of Lucius and Narcissa, blended it together and added something a little extra."

"I need to sit down." He released her hand and settled onto the bench.

"Can you believe that Quibbler article?" she said, crossing her arms indignantly. "I guess someone must have seen us, but a 'girl-in-every-town'? That's ridiculous." Severus managed a nod. "I mean Draco's such a little innocent," she laughed. "I gave him a kiss on the cheek to thank him for rescuing me, and you'd think he'd never been kissed before."

Severus blinked. "A kiss on the cheek?"

"Well, he did rescue me."

The Potions Master felt himself sag with relief and raised a hand to his mouth. Damn. He was smiling again. He used his hand to cover it. Yes, he had been foolish. He would not go so far to call Draco Malfoy an innocent, but he was well aware the boy's reputation was far overblown.

"Draco's a perfect gentleman," Persephone continued. "I mean...well, money was tight at the hotel, so I just got the cheapest room with a double bed, but he didn't complain about it. He let me in the bathroom first and borrow some of his robes to sleep in." The jealousy relit, but it was more of a flickering candle than the burning flame from before. "He even let me dye his hair brown, so we wouldn't stick out so much." Dumbledore had left out that detail. "He was even polite to Harry's uncle."

She stepped forward and held out her hands for his again. Severus took them. "Draco's really scared of something," she confided. "You'll help him, won't you, Severus? You'll protect him for me?"

Severus allowed his thumb to trace over her knuckles. "Of course."

****************

He regained his balance for Friday, finally managed some dramatics for his first years, quizzed his fourth years and made the rounds to check their potions. It helped that Persephone was sitting with the sixth years again and not Draco. He enjoyed his Advanced classes more than the others. They were generally sifted down to students who could keep up with him. Persephone, in her quest to learn everyone's name, had settled herself beside Ginny Weasley. She grinned at him, ready to play this game of student and teacher. Sitting beside Persephone, Ginny Weasley reminded him faintly of Lily Evans. He thanked the stars Potter did not stalk her the way James had Lily, that would have been disturbingly Oedipal.

He shook his head to clear it. It was hardly the boy's fault he did not favor his mother, was it? "Advanced Potions..." he began. He caught Persephone's grin again and started to see the humor in the situation. "Advance Potions requires a higher level of inquiry and attention to detail than has previously been expected." Persephone propped her chin on her hand, still grinning, but also giving him her full attention. He forced himself to look at another student, but it was a war to fight down his own smile. "Thankfully we are no longer bogged down by those who can not follow a simple list of instructions." He spotted Luna Lovegood who had a table to herself and appeared to be watching a spider build a web in the far corner. This would have annoyed him more if her work had not been consistently perfect. "This year will be heavy on theory."

"I love theory," Persephone said out loud, which caused several other students to snicker and her cheeks to redden.

Severus paused and took in a slow breath. He knew the entire class was waiting to see how he would handle this interruption. "Then you should thoroughly enjoy the class, Ms....?"

"P.," she supplied, with an appropriate look of chagrin.

All he could do was try to keep his smile small and plunge forward. "We will start with Golpalott's Four Laws..." He managed to make it through the class. Persephone had redeemed herself by listing Golpalott's Four Laws and expanding on the second one, demonstrating that it was indeed theory she loved.

Persephone stalled afterwards, waved her friends along and spent a little time chatting with Ginny Weasley, slipping in a few questions about Harry. Lovegood had sat and watched them, until Ginny left and collected her Ravenclaw friend. Severus had sat at his desk during this time, pretending to grade papers, though there really was not much to grade during the first week. He usually started with practical lessons.

Persephone perched herself on the student table nearest his desk. "You're a really good teacher," she said with an appreciative smile.

Severus shrugged. "I make no aims for popularity, but I get reasonable pass rates on the O.W.L.s and I've never had a N.E.W.T. level student fail their exam."

"I'll try not to break your perfect record. Could you explain the Fourth Law for me?" They talked theory for three hours.

****************

On Saturday afternoon, he got the details of her travels to London, which were fairly comic when viewed in retrospect. She continued to expertly dodge specific information about where they were escaping from. All Severus could determine for certain was that they approached London from the west which would be consistent with a flight from Wiltshire but hardly excluded other origins.

He walked down to the Three Broomsticks that evening for his regular meeting with the Grey Beards. It was not a true club, more of a meeting of old men who had hit that comfortable period of life where they had little better to do with their time than debate arcane matters of thaumaturgy that struck their fancy. Several of them had been young men together and shared an ease of camaraderie Severus had no hope of gaining, but they were kind enough to him. His relative youth amused them. He alone possessed neither grey hair nor beard, but he craved the intellectual stimulation they provided the way a drowning man gulped for air or a parched desert vagabond sought water.

Tonight however he was too full of her to pay attention.

"You see the Avada Kedavra was initially developed for medicinal purposes to eradicate growths and cancers-"

"Unsuccessfully developed."

"Eh. Ultimately, but-" A week of her. Her warmth still lingered on his hands. "-could be used by healers if further experimentation in a methodical method-" Her powdery scent... "What do you think, Severus?"

"Pardon?"

"The healing application of the killing curse," one wizened Grey Beard looked down a long, frail nose at him. "You seem a bit distracted tonight, my boy?"

"Forgive me, first week of classes."

"There's a rumor that you've found another silver child," said a second man with little hair, but an impressively long mustache. "Is she much like the first one?"

Severus felt his lip twitch. "The resemblance is uncanny."

"That is something I would like to study." This was a third man with a full grey beard and spectacles.

"I'm afraid we can't allow methodical experimentation on students," Severus said dryly, and this earned him a chuckle. "Which is the main problem with your original supposition. You may find a short list of willing subjects for your killing curse inspired healing spells."

****************

Dumbledore called him to his office the next evening. Severus took the fireplace to avoid anyone in the halls who might take note of their private meetings. The Headmaster was seated behind his grand claw-footed desk. The Daily Prophet, that horrendous Quibbler Article, and several other parchments and periodicals were splayed out on the desk before him. There was a tray of tea and biscuits which sat on the desk corner in cheerful contrast to Dumbledore's grim mood. "Come in, Severus." His long fingers beckoned him though he did not look up from the documents. "There's still no news from Evra Tome."

Severus knew the middle-aged witch from the Avon River Library from before his Hogwarts days when she was newly married. He still remembered the funny look she had given him when he told her he was studying curses and the change in her expression when he explained his Auror ambition. She had recommended the novels of Zeno, but he had insisted on non-fiction. When A Children's Guide to Mischievous Magic failed to impress him, she had acquiesced and found him a copy of A Study of the Dark Arts which was a thick, dry text, heavy on theory. Severus had loved it.

"What news were you expecting?"

"I forgot you were in Siberia," said Dumbledore with a small twitch of a smile. "Mrs. Tome was more recently inducted into the Order. She volunteered to scout the Malfoy Manor for us."

Severus twitched. "When was this?"

"Over a week ago, the night before Mr. Malfoy's flight...or possibly the same evening, depending on the time between his departure and the discovery of his absence."

As certainly as Severus had known Persephone was alive, he knew Evra Tome was dead. He hoped the life of one was not the price of freedom for the other, but it was hard to believe they were not connected.

"Voldemort has not tried to summon you?" asked Dumbledore, his gaze flickering to Snape's left arm.

Severus shook his head. "He knew I had business out of the country, and my time away from Hogwarts must be sparing. If you like, I can try to make contact."

Dumbledore shook his head. "Better to wait, I think. We don't want to draw more attention to our refugees than necessary."

Severus nodded and took a biscuit.

"The Baron tells me Ms. P. has been a frequent guest in your office."

"We have catching up to do."

There was kindness in Dumbledore's tired smile but also worry. "Has she given you any further details of her captivity or rescue?" Severus shook his head, not thinking her dream babies were any of Dumbledore's business. "Severus...I am happy you have your friend back, but please be cautious. We don't know how this has changed her."

****************

Monday morning Severus watched Persephone eat breakfast with the Dey children and tried to hide his grimace. He did not know the boy very well, but he knew his father. Mudada Dey was a fanatic who had become obsessed with the Dark Lord's rise through books and news reports in his youth and had transplanted his wife and two small children from Africa to England when he heard rumor of the Dark Lord's return.

Severus had never quite figured out which country the Deys were from. Mudada refused to acknowledge Muggle governments or really any authority other than his own and Lord Voldemort's. Among the Death Eaters, there were rumors he had ruled over an isolated tribe of Muggles in his homeland. When he said "MY country", he said it with every level of possessive one could imagine.

Victoria Dey was a gloomy, perfectly behaved child. He had worried the boy might be a smaller version of his father, but their brief interactions during the first week had given Severus little sense of him. He paid more attention on Tuesday morning. Thomas, who he suspected had been named in honor of Tom Riddle, was a quiet, nervous child. He reminded Severus a little of himself at the same age, beaten down, awkward, unhappy but hopeful. Thomas was tiny, where Severus had merely been scrawny, stocky where he had been gangly. Where Severus had found a patron in Lucius Malfoy, Thomas seemed to have found one in Charles Bulstrode.

Charles and Millicent Bulstrode were his first cousins, though he often forgot this. He and Millicent had formed a sort of unspoken camaraderie, where he would discourage any disparaging word directed against her, and he had overheard her rise to his defense a few times. While the Dey siblings were strikingly similar, Charles and Millie were about as different as two people who shared parents could be. Millie was tall, hefty, and not a particularly handsome girl with black hair nearly as lifeless as Snape's own. Charles on the other hand was delicate in the sort of way that promised handsome features with puberty. His fair brown hair was short but full, his eyes an interesting hazel, unlike Millicent's dark brown. Where Millicent was a solidly decent girl of modest intelligence, Charles was quick, precise with his potions, easy with his friends, but already campaigning for his prefect badge. Severus made a mental note to warn the other teachers about him.

Persephone had been preoccupied for the last two days, and that afternoon she came to him as Head of Slytherin House and expressed her concern for the Dey children. Inwardly Severus cursed himself for not guessing Mudada gave his children far worse than the verbal tongue lashings of which his father had been so fond. Outwardly he reassured Persephone he would take care of the matter and that the Dey children were safe at Hogwarts until summer. Unfortunately it was not as simple a matter as requesting a Ministry investigation, which would be his normal course. The Dark Lord expected Snape to show favoritism to his fellow Death Eaters, and Snape doubted he would share his concern for the children's safety, at least not enough to excuse Ministry interference.

A month ago, he might have gone to Lucius for a more subtle form of justice, but he no longer felt he could trust Lucius. That hurt more than he cared to admit, to regain one friend only to lose the other. He could still turn to Dumbledore for advice, but it had always been nice to have Lucius there for the parts of him Dumbledore would not approve or could not understand.

His role as double agent had forced him to lie to Lucius, to know there would come a time when their friendship would most likely end in betrayal. And Lucius had disappointed him, assuring him his role with the Death Eaters was far behind him, then starting that mess at the World Cup and answering the Dark Lord's summons to the graveyard. When Potter had named him as being among the circle...well, Severus had never foreseen a day when Igor Karkaroff would show more backbone than Lucius Malfoy. However, these disappointments had merely shown him that Lucius's character was consistent. He had always had a cruel streak, always been too caught up in his blood purity nonsense, always had a fascination with power and the dark arts.

Severus had flattered himself that he was one of the few allowed to see the full spectrum of Lucius Malfoy, his enigmatic mix of pride and compassion. He had watched him file his perfect nails to nubs when Narcissa had feigned interest in that boy from Ravenclaw. Seen him squat beside his two year old son to explain his distinct approach to riding a broom. Severus remembered how upset he had been when Draco's flying instructor had declared his style "wrong".

He could not make these memories fit with the evidence that connected Lucius to Persephone's abduction. He had seen Lucius lie and manipulate other people with a frightening expertise. It had never occurred to Severus that Lucius might see him merely as a tool, another puppet whose strings he could pull when he wanted a dance.

He wanted to think Lucius would be as disgusted by Mudada's behavior as he was, but if Lucius could lie so well, there would be no way to ever know.

****************

There had been some question when Severus first started teaching at Hogwarts whether he might be too young for the position. At twenty he had started his career teaching students with whom he had formerly been a housemate, though none with which he had been friendly. He had developed an acid tongue, and an I-am-not-your-friend attitude to create the needed distance between himself and the teenagers under his watch. At that tender age when most men were seeking their life mate, Severus was still too determined to find Persephone and too busy punishing himself for failing at it to notice, much less be tempted by, any hopeful glances from teenage girls. He designed his wardrobe to be intimidating rather than appealing and assumed crooked teeth and greasy hair would continue to be unappealing to teenage girls as they had when he himself had been a student.

For the most part this tactic worked and he spent little time pondering the fancies of female students. Minerva had quietly pulled him aside one day during his second year as a professor to warn him another professor had got wind of a plot to slip him a love potion, and he needed to take extra care not to give the impression he would entertain advances from female students. This had confused him so badly he had slipped away the same evening to consult Lucius for advice. After he had stopped laughing, Lucius had poured him a drink, advised he take it as a compliment, never eat gift food without testing it first, and leave his office door open when advising female students.

After a decade he had determined that teacher crushes were a bizarre but ultimately meaningless phase not uncommon to teenagers. He had stopped taking them seriously when he overheard a fifteen year old compose a sonnet to Minerva McGonagall, who had just celebrated her sixty-fifth, in the lavatory. He had terrified the lad by emerging from his stall and complimenting him on his iambic pentameter.

He had done the boy the service of not repeating the story, however strong the temptation had been. To his knowledge, Professor McGonagall had never received her sonnet.

After a decade it had been hard to maintain his hope that he might be reunited with his lost silver girl, much less that a reunion would lead to a lasting romance. He tried, if for no other reason than he thought someone ought to, but his eye had begun to wander. It was still very rare that a student would inspire any level of interest in him. His sense of propriety protested against it too strongly. Besides most teenage girls were far too silly, wore too much makeup, and looked far too young. He had kept up a ban on former students as well, until Professor Sinistra had taken pity on him.

"Severus, you've been teaching for nearly fifteen years. Unless you look outside the country, nearly every single witch in England is going to be a former student. Yes, it would be highly inappropriate to pursue current ones, but they all leave school eventually. You're not their teacher then." Before he had had a chance to fully ponder this perspective, the Dark Lord had returned, and pursing females of any age had become the last thing on his mind.

However, if there was one student who Severus would have been tempted to look up after she left Hogwarts, it was Indigo Stump. Daughter of an Italian wizard and Japanese witch, who had settled in England to invest in the recovering magical economy, Indigo had a shy beauty that Severus found very appealing. She had no resemblance at all to Persephone in either looks or temperament, which he thought would be good for him. Indigo was always perfectly attentive, wrote thoughtful essays in an elegant script, smiled shyly when he complimented her work, and read for pleasure. She had gone through six years with long, straight, black hair and thick bangs which touched the top of her glasses. Her myopia was mild, but the lenses caused some distortion to her large, almond shaped eyes, hiding their full beauty. She had a bad tendency to slouch, but otherwise moved with an understated grace.

As soon as he was aware of this attraction, Severus had taken extra care never to be anywhere alone with her, even for the most innocent reasons. He never called on her when another student had raised their hand, unless she had patiently raised her hand more than three times in a row. He did not spend any more time checking her potions than was absolutely necessary. With strict adherence to these simple tactics, he was satisfied she had no reason to suspect any interest from him and intended to keep it that way until Hogwarts was far behind her.

Persephone's return had pushed Indigo Stump entirely from his mind. Persephone's return had pushed many things from his mind, and the Deys' difficulties made him fear he was neglecting his students. If Persephone had not returned, then he might have found Indigo's dramatic hair cut, unnaturally colored, and the loss of the glasses to be disappointing. Now he merely found these changes concerning.

The temptation gone, he called her to his office after dismissing his seventh year students, which had the added benefit of allowing him to avoid questioning Draco a little longer. By the second week, Indigo's hair had settled from shock red to a more natural auburn, but it was not her hair experiments that concerned him.

"Have a seat Miss Stump." He settled himself behind his desk as she took the seat in front, more curious than concerned. "I can't help but notice you've made some drastic changes to your appearance. I understand many girls like to experiment at this age, but I wanted to be sure nothing more traumatic had occurred."

"What?" Indigo peeped. Her brow knit in mild confusion.

"Has anything unpleasant happened to you to inspire this change," he clarified, unsure if she had truly misunderstood or simply been surprised by the question.

"Oh," Indigo said, her brow relaxing. "No, nothing like that. I've just...well, I've been kind of invisible. You know to boys, and I...I was sort of hoping if I changed a few things, he might notice me."

"He?"

She blushed prettily. "You know...Draco Malfoy." She said the name with a wistful sigh.

Severus managed not to release his frustrated growl, but he could not entirely keep the disgust from his tone. "Surely you can find a better object for your affection than Mr. Malfoy!" he groused, knowing the comment was inappropriate, but a man had his limits.

Indigo's eyes widened, and her lips twitched with flattered embarrassment. "I think he's just having a hard time right now, with his father missing, but he's so...you know." Her shrug said, Handsome.

Severus rubbed his temple. "Regardless, no boy is worth endangering your eyesight over. I'm familiar with the sort of transfigurations used to correct vision, and the risk for permanent damage is very strong. Even great wizards like Albus Dumbledore choose to wear glasses rather than risk their sight for vanity."

Indigo straightened up and relaxed with understanding. "Oh, I'm not using magic," she laughed. "Contact lenses. It's...well, they're a Muggle invention. Daphne turned me onto them. I have to be careful to clean them, but the healers assured me they're not dangerous. I mean Daphne's parents work for St. Mungo's, so I figure they should know."

Severus cringed. He had suspected Daphne's influence, but at least this did not sound as bad as what he had feared. "I'll have to investigate these contact lenses," he said, not sure when he'd have a chance to do so, but they sounded like a good thing to have in his arsenal for future teenage girls with more insecurities than sense.

"Are-are you disappointed in me, sir?" Indigo asked earnestly.

Snape shook his head. "You're free to go, Miss Stump."

****************

Persephone was not waiting outside his office when Indigo left. He thought she might not come, but thirty minutes late, she did. She took his hands, insisted on talking about the Dey children a little more. She laughed over his assessment of Charles and spent the next two hours trying to pry details out of him about his seventh year and the fate of this couple or that friend. He doubted the conversation would have entertained anyone but her. Persephone however was hungry for this minutia, and he did his best to provide it.

They parted for dinner. Severus took a direct route and she made a trip back to the Slytherin dormitories, so they would arrive at different times. He had been at the high table a good twenty minutes before she wandered through the doors with a distracted expression. She took her seat again on Draco's left, which had always been Narcissa's place with Lucius.

Where Lucius had otherwise surrounded himself with his Quidditch team and other male friends who he considered to have equal social standing, Draco's crowd was mainly female. Crabbe and Goyle were on his right, Zabini was left of Persephone, but there was an entire row of females before Draco that seemed to be vying for his attention. They were doing a ridiculous amount of giggling. Malfoy looked his way, and Severus felt his lip twitch in disgust before he realized he was staring and looked away.

He retired early that evening. He was dressed for bed in his black night clothes and

turning back the onyx sateen sheets when a loud pounding interrupted his quiet solitude. With a grimace, he shrugged on his ebon silk dressing gown, drowsily contemplated adding a color to his wardrobe, and opened the door. "Mr. Filch," he drawled from exhaustion and annoyance.

The gnarled Caretaker gave him an eager half-sneer by way of greeting. "I caught that Malfoy boy fraternizing with the new transfer in the trophy room."

"Fraternizing?"

Filch nodded. "Against the rules, ought to give them both a punishment."

Severus's hand tensed against the door frame, but having jumped to the wrong conclusion quite recently, he took more care to get all the facts. "What exactly did you see?"

"They had their arms around each other. Bet there was plenty I didn't see."

Snape glared, but more at Filch than the mental image. Persephone hugged people. It was something she did, and he doubted there had been more to it. Even if it was Draco Malfoy she was hugging, he could not drudge up any jealousy. He was more annoyed by Filch questioning her honor.

"I'm not punishing students for hugging."

Filch sneered. "He disrespected me, called me a...a filthy squib."

Snape raised his eyebrow slightly. "Now that is rude. I'll certainly consider the detention."

Filch nodded sharply, lip curling. Snape knew admitting the real reason for his anger had cost him.

The man left, and Snape sighed. He could use a hug himself, for now he had the unpleasant mental image of Draco and Persephone doing more. Still it left him more disgusted than jealous. There was something incestuous and indecent about the two of them together. Two bright angels in a dark world. He loved both of them, though in very different ways. It had been bad enough to think he might lose her to Lucius, but to Lucius's son? A disgusted shiver went through him.

****************

Having found some peace about the Deys, Persephone regaled him with stories about her Muggle Studies class with an enthusiasm that reminded him she was still very young. Then she asked if he would take her on a Muggle outing sometime, which reminded him they had been young together and he had promised to join her on such an expedition.

He considered asking Dumbledore if she could stay the summer with him. He also pondered not asking Dumbledore and doing it anyway. She would be seventeen by then. Unfortunately both options had the same set of problems. He needed to play his role with the Death Eaters until Harry Potter or someone less bound by prophecy made an end to Lord Voldemort. He also needed to play his role as teacher, her teacher, and that brought up all manner of ethical complications.

He could keep the summer visit entirely chaste, a cohabitation of two good friends in different bedrooms, but the hope of keeping such a thing secret was slim. The sort of gossip someone crossing their path in Paris or on Corsica would generate could easily destroy his reputation and hers. Unfairly but thoroughly.

"Are you angry with Draco?" Persephone asked, pulling him from his reverie.

"I'm concerned," Severus admitted. He had told Lucius Draco was too young to be brought into the fold.

He'll be seventeen soon, Lucius had said with a shrug and a tone of disinterest that lead Severus to believe the Malfoys had not been consulted on the matter.

There had been others things he had wanted to say. Draco was too delicate, too gentle natured, too sheltered...but his protestations would have sounded weak, were not entirely true, and would have undermined his position as spy, so he stayed silent. He wanted to ask Lucius if he thought Draco would accept, but the real question was how could he refuse. The Dark Lord did not take kindly to being told no. As his pupil and unofficial godson, Draco had many qualities Severus did admire, but bravery was not among them.

"He's really worried about it," Persephone continued, her finger lightly tracing his knuckles. He wondered if she realized how weak that made him. "You should talk to him."

Severus knew he should have talked to Draco the first night of his return, but he had been dreading the conversation and put it off. He did not want to have it confirmed that the ten-year-old boy he had tutored in Potions before he received his Hogwarts letter and five years later had taught Occlumency in his office, now shared the same disfiguration on his left arm. He did not want the Dark Lord to have Draco. He clung to the hope that his return of Persephone was a sign of character growth and defiance, but that topic was another on which he feared answers. He needed to know where Draco had found her, but he did not want to have his fears confirmed.

There was a third reason. He was ashamed of his jealousy. Persephone's clear affection for Draco was perfectly natural. Blaming the boy for it was vulgar. If Draco found her appealing, this only showed he had more depth and better taste than the average teenage boy. Besides the boy was afraid, and Severus knew how comforting she could be. The knowledge that he was being selfish and petty did little to abate the feeling. He could not escape the gossip about their relationship. Even in the staff room, Sybill had the gall to ask him if Ms. P dating Draco Malfoy bothered him. Before Snape could growl a reply, Sinistra kindly insisted this was just a rumor, and she was pretty sure Draco was interested in someone else. Severus had started avoiding the staff room.

He watched Draco during their next class. The boy looked nervous and guilty every time he caught Snape watching him. This was just as well. He was more likely to get the truth out of him if he was kept off balance.

The students finished their Patafacere Potion and began bringing their assignments to his desk. Longbottom's was at least the right color. That was encouraging. He was another boy who had grown tall. Severus took a grim satisfaction in knowing Potter would always be shorter than him. Egads, he had gotten petty.

Draco suddenly gained a cavalier attitude. He watched the boy twirl the vial in his fingers. It would serve him right if...and there was the crack of broken glass.

"Damn it, Patil," Draco swore. The potentially valuable amber liquid was now splattered on the legs of his desk and the stone floor.

"You will watch your language in the classroom," Severus rebuked him. "And if you had held that vial more carefully, you might have saved your grade on this assignment."

"But, sir-" Pansy Parkinson began. He silenced her with a look. That never would have worked on Narcissa.

"It will be a zero for today, Mr. Malfoy." Draco hung his head, but Severus thought he saw the glimmer of a smirk. "And you will see me after class." Now he looked properly miserable.

"My office," Severus said after the bell rang. Once inside, he closed the door and gestured to the two chairs facing the desk. "Have a seat."

Malfoy remained standing. "Are you angry with me, sir?"

"Should I be?"

"I don't see why," Draco whined, suddenly sounding like a first year. "I brought her back. I thought you'd be happy."

Severus bit back a sigh. "I am glad to have her back. But Persephone refuses to tell me where she has been or who is responsible for her disappearance. I was hoping you could enlighten me."

"No sir, I can't."

Severus narrowed his eyes, trying to read Draco. "Can't or won't?"

"Can't, I promised." It even sounded like a lie.

Severus was in no mood to entertain a lie, particularly one that was equally irritating if true. "I do not care about your promises," he said in a dangerous voice, though he checked his volume. "This is not some child's game, Mr. Malfoy. Persephone has been missing for twenty-one years. She vanished without a clue, without a reason. I have searched every inch of England, followed every lead to its dead end, and still lack explanation. Where was she?"

The boy looked at him pitifully, petulantly. "What does it matter? She's safe now."

"How can I know that, if I don't know what happened in the first place?!" Severus heard the crack in his own voice. He was on verge of either strangling Draco or crying with frustration, and since neither would gain him information, he took a moment to compose himself. He paced to his desk, decided on a new tactic, and firmly fixed his mask in place. This secret gave Draco power over him, and Severus needed to take that power away.

"Sit down, Mr. Malfoy."

This time Draco did sit. He looked defeated but forced himself to meet Snape's steady gaze.

The key now was to keep Draco off balance, so Severus spoke in an almost conversational tone. "I don't suppose at any point during your long lost summer you saw your father?"

"No, sir."

"Hmph." Severus perched himself on the edge of his desk and studied Draco. The boy focused on his cheekbone, avoiding direct eye contact like a good Occlumens. He had been a good pupil. Time to rattle him.

"Let me show you something," said Severus, carefully modulating his voice to draw the boy in, and it worked. Draco leaned forward, curious. Severus rolled up his sleeve, revealing the Dark Mark.

The reaction was instant. Draco jerked back in his chair, belatedly tried to hide his panic, but his wide eyes and tense body language betrayed him. Whatever the boy had done, he did not think Lord Voldemort would like it. Severus pressed his advantage. "Why did you run away from the manor?"

"I--Persephone--" the young man stammered.

He had forgotten his Occlumency, and Severus was able to view a confused flash of images, a large attic, a portrait, Persephone, Death Eaters, robes, masks, Lucius, a familiar Victorian sofa. "You found her in the manor. The attic she was in. It was yours."

Draco winced, which was like a confirmation. He blinked and Severus lost him. Draco had found the presence of mind to Occlude. If Severus was lucky, he would rely too heavily on mental magic and forget his body language. "Is he there?"

Draco looked confused. "I don't-" He stopped with a suspicious glance.

Severus was losing him, but he needed to know. His voice became pleading. "Was it--was it Lucius?"

"No," Draco replied so quickly, with genuine surprise at the suggestion. There was no guile.

The boy knew. The boy knew exactly who it was, but all that seemed to matter now was that it was not Lucius. Severus was too overwhelmed with relief to question him further. He dropped his head in his hands. He took a few moments to breath, to pack away his suspicions, to put Lucius back in his category of friend. A dangerous friend, but a friend all the same.

He brought his head up and saw Draco watching him. No doubt the boy was more confused than ever. His eyes kept flitting to the exposed mark. "Ugly, isn't it?" he asked Draco.

The boy neither answered nor nodded.

There was something else Severus needed to know, but he was more optimistic now. "Show me your forearm, Draco."

Draco rolled back his sleeve obediently. Severus took his arm in hand and rubbed his thumb on the unblemished skin of Draco's forearm looking for some sign of concealment. Finding nothing, he released him, and they both pulled their sleeves down. There was a long, awkward silence that followed. Draco was not as far gone as he feared, but he knew the boy was struggling, otherwise he would have come to Dumbledore more openly. The trouble was how to approach him. Openly admitting that he spied for the Order was dangerous for both of them. Allowing Draco to believe he was loyal to Voldemort set a bad example. No this required a level of doublespeak, which Severus loathed but had a talent for.

Draco seemed to be going through a similar internal debate and asked at length. "Why do you wear the Dark Mark, sir?"

Severus smiled sadly at him. "Because a long time ago I lost something, and I thought the Dark Lord could help me find it. And because all my friends were wearing one." He hoped Draco would understand and not think too poorly of him. He needed to simplify, but he did not want to sugar coat. "The Dark Lord burns it on with a black fire and a sort of branding iron like one would use on cattle. The process was extremely painful, and it still burns."

The boy blanched. "Why are you telling me this?"

Unfortunately, he had to leave that for Draco to sort out for himself. "Don't act stupid." There was someone else who deserved answers. "There was a librarian who disappeared the same day you left home. A witch named Evra Tomes. Do you know what happened to her?"

"No," said Draco, but he would not look him in the eye.

"Poor Evra," Severus said without inflection. The boy twitched, and Severus had to hope growing guilt would work its magic. "You may go, Mr. Malfoy."

He knew the boy needed time, but the confused relief on his face reminded Severus he also needed a consequence. "And you will be receiving a detention."

"Detention?!" Draco gaped. "For what?"

"For back talking to a member of the staff. Mr. Filch heard your Squib comment. You will meet him this evening in the trophy room after Quidditch practice, and I suggest you undertake whatever task he has for you with the appropriate attitude and respect. It is not wise for someone in your position to burn any more bridges."

Draco also needed a warning. Severus could not risk another bludger incident. "I have given you every opportunity that I can, Mr. Malfoy. There will be no more second chances. I will not hesitate to expel you if you give me any reason to do so, and I think you realize what that will mean."

Draco nodded numbly and shuffled towards the door.

"All that being said," said Severus softly. "I am grateful."

****************

Persephone did not come that evening, which was just as well. He needed to recover and grade the papers for her class on Friday. Again, it was much easier grading advanced classes than the lower years. The sentences were far more likely to begin with capital letters and end in periods, the ideas were worthy to be called such, and fewer people resorted to copying the textbook. He only had vague memories of Persephone's school work. She often had him check over her essays. He had a sense of them being extremely neat and organized, every sentence clear, every paragraph a single idea with appropriate examples. They were a little on the dull side, but such things were rarely graded for their wit or artistic merit. She clearly understood Golpalott's Four Laws, so he was curious to see if she would make an extra effort for him, insert an academic joke or make an unusual analogy. He finished grading ten papers before he spotted her handwriting. The top of the page read like a love letter.

For 6th Year Advance Potions

Professor Snape

An Essay on Golpalott's Four Laws

By Perspehone P.

But below that...the lovingly round, neat handwriting dissolved into a less regular slant. In and of itself, he could have dismissed the calligraphy, but the words... He reread the essay five times, (It was very short.) hoping for some hint of avant-garde brilliance, but no. It was simply terrible. Far more worthy of Gregory Goyle than Persephone Potter. It vexed him, because he knew she could do better. He was troubled to think she might use their friendship to slide by on her assignments. It was unlike her. Dumbledore's warning tickled at the edge of his mind, but he flicked it away.

Or tried.

It was gnawing on him the next day, when she stopped by his office, apologizing that she could not stay long as some project demanded her attention. "Persephone...I had to give you a 'P'."

She blinked and looked a little embarrassed. "Oh...sorry about that. I just got busy and forgot. Was it really that bad?" But her wince told him she knew the answer.

"Don't break my perfect record." He had meant for it to sound like a joke, but he ended up sounding like a teacher.

Her face fell, and he wished he had not said it. "I'm sorry." She shrugged the book bag he had bought her higher on her shoulder. "I really should go." Her brow knitted, and she hesitated. "Tomorrow?"

He forced a smile to reassure her. "Please."

****************

They played their game of student and teacher on Friday, though she raised her hand a little less. The sixth year girls swept her off with them after class. On Saturday she was busy with some birthday party in the Slytherin common room. He decided not to inflict the students with his presence unless the prefects summoned him. They lunched in his office on Sunday, and he told her a little about the conversation with Draco then.

Her lips twitched with a not quite smile as though she understood things he did not. Her hand rested on his, her fingers kicking at his fork. "I'm sorry to make you think that about Lucius. I want to say he would never do such a thing, but I don't know anymore."

"He wouldn't do it to you," Severus reassured her. "He was as worried about you as I was. He told me to keep looking. Eventually he was the only one who encouraged me to keep looking."

For a moment, her face took on a pained look and he thought she might cry, but she closed her eyes and composed herself. "I keep thinking about him," she admitted. "When I look at Draco, I keep seeing Lucius."

"Are you worried Draco is going to make the same choices Lucius did?" Are you still in love with him?

She shook her head. "I won't let him, and I don't think he wants to. He said he won't take the mark."

"I'm sure you're a good influence on him," Severus said. He had played the disinterested friend for four years before she left. The role was getting easier now.

"I'm trying," she said. She tapped her index finger on his unresponsive hand. "Severus, Draco said...well, there's been a lot rumors. You don't listen to rumors do you?"

He put his fork down. "What sort of rumors?"

"Well, some people seem to think Draco and I are dating, because we spend a lot of time together. I tell them we're not, but--he's been a really good friend, so sweet!--but he's a baby, isn't he? He's Lucius's baby, and Narcissa's. All grown up, but it would be creepy. I'd be a creepy old lady. I'm old enough to be his aunt."

Severus chuckled and let his fingers wrap around hers. "Unfortunately, you look more like his sister."

"I am Harry's aunt. Harry's going to think I'm creepy, isn't he?"

He could not help himself. He laughed.

****************

Draco was watching him again in their next Potions class, but the fear was gone, replaced by something more like compassion. Severus was intrigued. The boy looked healthier, less pale. Quidditch at least was doing him some good. It did not worry him that Persephone had not told Harry her secret. She could stall all year as far as he was concerned. Potter seemed no worse for it. Severus assigned an essay and waited while the students set the day's work on his desk and filtered out of the classroom. Draco lingered, and Severus knew he wanted to talk. He pretended not to notice, allowed Draco to make the first move.

When the class had cleared completely, Draco spoke in a low, conspiratorial tone. "She asked about you. It was nearly one of the first things she said when I found her. She was worried that you had forgotten about her."

This had not been what Severus was expecting. Maybe Draco understood more than he accredited him. "It helped. Those lessons you gave me. I wouldn't have been able to rescue her without them. So thank you."

Severus could not help a checking glance around the room. He had not told Dumbledore about those particular lessons and would rather not explain them. "You're welcome."

Draco perched himself on one of the tables with a relaxed smile. Oh, yes, he was certainly feeling more himself. "You know someone started a rumor that we're dating." Draco gave a light laugh, to illustrate the humor of the idea. "Absolute nonsense of course. I mean she's a sweet girl and all, but not my type. I haven't really corrected anyone though. It keeps the hopefuls away. I figure she needs some time to settle into her classes before dealing with the advances of teenage boys."

"Mr. Malfoy, I'm afraid I don't really have much interest in your social life." Severus allowed his voice to betray nothing. The boy really should have closed the door first. "Your evening may be free, but I have another class coming so I suggest you take your books and move along."

Draco gave him a smile that was more like a wink and strolled out of the room. Severus rubbed his temples and felt a bubble of mirth at his own foolishness. Having Draco ferret out his secret should have been irritating, but instead it was a relief. He did not have a powerful rival but a perceptive, slightly mischievous ally.