Severus Snape and the Last Year

Level 3.5: Breaking the Circle

The wizarding population in Britain was relatively the size of a small town though it was far more spread out. There were clusters, of course: Ottery St. Catchpole, Godric's Hollow, Amesbury, London, though many wizards preferred a rural residence for privacy. Only Hogsmeade was exclusively populated by wizards. Only London was large enough to hide a business center like Diagon Alley.

The Diagon Alley of Severus' youth was not much different from the same street twenty years later. Some of the owners and names changed during the war, but Ollivander's, Twilfit & Tatting's, Scribbulus, and Flourish & Blott's survived. Most of the others either reopened under new names or were replaced by similar stores. Young Severus found Persephone and her family outside Sweets McGee's Ice Cream Shoppe.

Severus was dressed in second hand black robes. He suspected his parents could afford new ones, but his mother had declared it a waste of money since he would be out growing them in a few months. He had to admire her practicality. The robes were in fair condition at least, a bit old fashioned, but he rather liked that about them. It made him feel more like an adult or someone who might run into Charles Dickens.

He watched the Potters from the front window of the bookstore for almost twenty minutes. Persephone's brother and his friends were with them. Sirius hung close to Mrs. Potter, trying to look cool, while James, Remus, and Peter ran about the street like ten year olds. Persephone was tugging on her father's arm. He doubted the boys would be allowed to harass him while the parents were there, but despite the invitation, he felt like he was invading. They all looked so happy and normal.

Severus had been nervously checking the Prophet every morning, looking for some news of the fire set by Flint's party, but if the Ministry knew, they had kept the incident out of the papers. Part of him desperately wanted to tell someone. He thought Lucius at the very least should try to compensate the family financially, but surly Lucius, still suffering from a slight hangover, had dismissed the idea, saying Severus clearly missed the point. What's done is done, and he did not want to hear another word about it.

It was not so simple for Severus to dismiss. "What will you do if the Ministry investigates?"

"Deny it," Lucius told his coffee cup in a voice that said that much should be obvious. Severus felt they should tell the Ministry, but he knew Lucius would never forgive him. Beyond the potential loss of a friend, he had practical concerns.

"But--"

"Stop being a wart. There's no magic for them to trace." That much might be true. There had been charms involved in handling the fire, but the fire itself had not been magical, which meant there might be no hard evidence for the Ministry to find. It would likely be his word against theirs, against a Malfoy's.

It went beyond Lucius. Bellatrix had not been directly involved but crossing the Blacks was a risky business. Flint and his crew frightened him a little, and he did not doubt they would deny his accusation. Many of them had deep pockets and political connections. They could ruin his father at the Ministry if they put a mind to it or set fire to his own house. Or their fuzzy drunken memories might name his as a willing accomplice.

These were phantom fears, and Severus might have gained the courage to overcome them. But even if the Ministry believed a scrawny fourteen-year-old with the nickname of Curse Master, who had been sent to the Headmaster's office for inappropriate reading material just a few months before, there was the reality of what might happen if they believed him. He could care less what happened to Flint, but Lucius... If the Ministry declared it attempted murder, that could mean Azkaban. If they let Lucius slide due to age and intoxication, the younger Malfoy would still have to face his father, and one late night Lucius had told Severus about some of the punishments his father had used before Lucius had found it less painful to play the dutiful son. More things Lucius would never do to his son. Lucius was consistent. And Severus felt his friend deserved a second chance. So he protected Lucius with his silence.

Years later, he wondered if he had done Lucius a disservice by holding his tongue, but he was fourteen and inexperienced. It was easy to be foolish at that age.

Guilt still clung to him like a dark cloud. He decided to slip away and not darken the family's bright day, but Persephone spotted him as he left the bookstore. She called his name and caught him in a hug. Her father had chased after her, and Persephone took Severus's hand to tug him over to meet him.

Henry Potter was the sort of man who gave hope to other plain looking males. He was round faced with a rounder belly and neat, dark hair. He was on the shorter end of average height. His features were pleasant but unimpressive. He dressed neatly and smiled kindly. He had a beautiful wife, two happy children, and a respectable job on Muggle-Worthy Excuse Committee. He had made some wise investments which left them all comfortable and able to live within walking distance of the Ministry and Diagon Alley.

Severus liked him instantly. He felt a little awkward shaking Mr. Potter's hand but was glad to be treated like an adult. He envied Persephone her parents a bit but figured that was unproductive and put little energy into it. "So you're Severus. Persephone has told us a lot about you. James too."

"Yeah, but James is a liar," Persephone said loyally.

Her father smiled indulgently, clearly wishing his children were as kind to each other as he was to them. "Given the broad daylight, I think we can rule out vampire at least. They both tell me you have the top marks in James' year."

"Do I?" asked Severus.

Mr. Potter smiled at him, while Persephone laughed and swung his hand. "Ice cream?" he asked, indicating Sweets' shop.

"Severus doesn't like sweets," Persephone informed him.

A disbelieving look, a chuckle. "Good for you. Wish I didn't."

"Can we go exploring?"

Mr. Potter looked around uncertainly but seemed to have trouble telling his daughter 'no'. "Stay on the Alley and stay together. You know your way around, Severus? Good. We'll meet at the Leaky Cauldron for lunch at eleven thirty. That'll give you a full hour and a half." He place a hand on Severus's shoulder. "I'm trusting you to bring her back to me."

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

An hour and a half after Severus's arrival at the Death Eater's hideout, he had finished making his report to Lord Voldemort. The Dark Lord was reassured that Draco had not betrayed their location but remained unconvinced of his loyalty. Severus did not push the issue. It was hard to be caught in a lie if he claimed ignorance when he was ignorant. Voldemort denied Snape permission to reveal himself to the boy. "Let sleeping dragons lie."

The Dark Lord had little interest in Persephone but asked as a pleasantry. Severus gave a short version of the elaborate story he had prepared. In search of his friend, he had followed a rumor to South Africa. He had discovered the girl there and been disappointed to find she was only a namesake. Her parents had made some powerful enemies during the fall of the Apartheid and asked him to take her back to England with them. He had suggested they go into hiding as well, but they were stubborn people. He received news that they had been murdered shortly after his return to England. "I hear she is trying to rile students against me," the Dark Lord said after he had finished.

"She's angry," said Severus. "And pretending not to be frightened. I tried to convince her it was unwise, but your--the Death Eaters lack of visible activity over the past few months has made many less cautious."

"Which is the point," Voldemort said coldly. "But you had best try a little harder to still her tongue, Severus. I will not be inactive forever."

Severus bowed his head. "Of course, my lord."

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

"Have you ever been down there?" Persephone had asked when they passed Knockturn Alley.

Severus shook his head. "My father said those shops are off limits."

"I just want to look," she said. "We're exploring, and I've already been up and down this street a hundred times."

"Your dad told us to stay on the Alley," Severus protested.

"Knockturn is an Alley. It's not like we're wandering around Muggle London." They both knew she was bending the truth, but she was in a mischievous mood. "Come on, just a quick look."

"I'm not going."

Persephone dropped his hand and sighed with mock-disappointment. "Ca va, I'll be right back. You can keep an eye on me from here." She gave him a flirty parting wave and took a skip towards the alley.

Helpless Severus lunged forward and grabbed her hand. "Just a quick look," he growled, deciding that she was less likely to get into real danger if he was with her. He walked quickly, hoping to drag her in and out before anyone spotted them. It was a crooked alley, narrower than the main street, though you could probably fit four men walking side-by-side if they did not mind bumping each other. Persephone grabbed Severus's left arm with her freehand and walked with her right arm pressed tight against him. While it forced him to slow down, he found he did not mind so much.

Actually he found himself wanting to stall in Knockturn Alley, even though his hand was feeling a bit sweaty. "Look at that!" Persephone squeaked, pointing through the first dingy window at a cage of giant spiders. "Aren't they fantastic?!"

Severus managed to both wince and smile at the same time. He looked down at his friend. By that time he had come to regard silver as just another pigment, but she was still an odd little girl. "Do you think people keep them as pets?" One of the spiders blinked at her curiously, which was a better reaction than she got from most cats.

"Most likely for potions and ritual ingredients," Severus said, trying to sound like an expert.

"Oh, that makes me sad." She tapped on the glass. "Hello."

"Look in there," Severus said, pointing to a fire pit inside the store. "Salamanders."

"They use the blood for healing potions, right?" He was pretty sure at that point that he loved her.

"You said a quick look," he reminded her. They walked past the next couple shops more quickly. A store boasting shrunken heads and other foreign curiosities managed to disgust her. A pale, thin fellow watched them from the shadow of a shaded entryway which lead down to a basement entrance. Another door was marked only by a few runes, and the shop across the street bore only the name Harfang's with drawn shades. Severus decided they had wandered far enough and pulled her back towards Knockturn's entrance.

A few other shady shoppers eyed them curiously as they passed. Persephone's silver hair did not seem as out of place in Knockturn Alley as her floral print dress or sunny yellow robe. A man with a shabby brown top hat and similarly stained teeth bowed to them and held out a gold coin. "Galleon for a lock, my pretty?"

"No, thank you," Severus said curtly and kept himself between them as he hurried Persephone away. He felt a little more free to breath when he caught sight of proper store windows again.

"Do you think that was a real vampire?" Persephone whispered in an excited voice.

Severus thought at first she meant the man with the top hat, then realized she meant the fellow in the shade, and nodded. "I've heard rumors there's a vampire den down there...or maybe it was a tavern."

Persephone's eyes were shining with excitement. Odd girl. Pretty girl. Clear skin, pink lips. She stopped in front of the largest store window on Knockturn and peaked in at all the curiosities there. It was the only shop on the side alley that Severus thought he might like to enter someday. Several of the items were clearly dark, others were just unusual, and he did like the unusual. He was squinting to read the description on some contraption he had never seen before, when James' voice crashed in on them.

"What are you doing down here?!" he demanded.

Persephone cringed but attempted to look nonchalant as she turned to her brother. Severus did not bother to hide his contempt. "Exploring," Persephone said with false bravado.

"Isn't it obvious, James?" Sirius said with a nasty smirk. "They're planning their wedding."

"Shut up," James snapped irritably. "I'm telling, mum."

"Fine," Persephone said. "I'll tell her you were down here too."

Persephone was still clutching his hand which made it difficult for Severus to not look like he was hiding behind her. James glared at him. "I was only down here fetching you," he said, but his eyes shifted and Lupin looked guilty, which made Severus think they had also been exploring.

"Why don't we all head back to the Cauldron?" Lupin suggested.

Severus was suddenly very glad there was a restriction on underage sorcery. He suspected James would have liked to hex him. The older Potter's hand hovered near his wand pocket, but Lupin had a soothing effect on him. "Fine."

Persephone marched out of Knockturn Alley, dragging him along. He did not like having Potter's gang behind him, but his head was too tangled with thoughts to argue with her. The part of him that loved accuracy wanted to correct Sirius, but as much as he hated Black, the taunts had ignited thoughts in him that were not entirely unpleasant. He did not like James or anyone thinking he was trying to prey on his female friends, but if he did get married someday, it would be better if his wife was also his friend, wouldn't it? Her soft hand felt really nice in his.

Potter's gang seemed to decide letting her reach the adults first was a bad idea and fell into pace with them. Lupin wandered close, and Persephone grabbed his hand too.

"Two-timing Snivellus already, Hissy?" Black taunted from behind them.

Persephone looked over her shoulder to glare at Sirius and James. "I'm not two-timing anyone, just auditioning new brothers."

It was not a fair retort, since it seemed to cut James and leave Sirius unscathed. Severus mulled over this new theory on the nature of their relationship and checked Lupin's reaction. The ill, half-smile told him nothing, except that Lupin was mildly embarrassed. It was hard to feel any jealousy towards someone who looked like they might blow over if a strong wind hit them, so Severus put his energy into worrying what Persephone's parents were going to think about them getting caught in Knockturn Alley.

They quickened their pace when they came in sight of the Leaky Cauldron. Someone had just tapped the bricks to open the wall between, so they were able to pass directly into the back of the pub. Mr. and Mrs. Potter were already there. The adults were securing a large table. Sirius ran over to pull out Mrs. Potter's chair for her. James ran to make his report first. Lupin slowed Persephone's progress by not releasing her hand. This gesture also stopped her from crashing into an elderly witch in a green cloak, so she did not fuss at him.

"Snape took Persephone to Knockturn Alley!" James declared, while Severus waited for the witch to pass. Henry frowned thoughtfully, and Mrs. Potter shot him a concerned look. Severus wanted a rock to hide under. "Told you he was a Dark Wizard."

"Severus didn't want to go," Persephone said when she got loose from Lupin and reached her father. "I just wanted to see, Daddy. We didn't go in any shops. Severus only came cause I said I'd go alone without him. So you can get mad at me, but not him. Anyway, James was there too!"

"Only to get you!" her indignant brother repeated.

"Stop!" Henry Potter said in what passed for a stern voice. "Persephone, you know Knockturn is off limits. It's no place for children."

"Daddy, I'm thirteen," she whined.

"It's no place for teenage girls either...or boys. Particularly not these days. You should be ashamed of yourself for dragging Severus down with you." Persephone looked properly chastened. "James, we'll talk about this more when we get home. Now everyone sit down. It's time for lunch." James stalked around to take his place by Sirius.

Severus was ushered into a seat between Persephone and her father. He could not believe his luck at having escaped blame or the mildness of the reprimand. He considered asking Mr. Potter for advice about what had happened at the bonfire night, but there was no way to do it without James and Persephone overhearing.

Henry Potter saw some sign of his anxiety and bent over to whisper. "I know my girl can be a little stubborn but keep giving her good advice. Maybe someday she'll listen." Severus smiled weakly.

Persephone was already past being chastised and was telling her mother about her adventure. "And I think we saw a vampire!"

"Persephone, there's nothing romantic about vampires," her mother rebuked her gently.

"They're fascinating," Persephone sulked. "I wish I could have talked to him."

A platter of hamburgers and two baskets of chips arrived at the table. The Gryffindor boys greedily filled their plates as a server shuffled over to take drink orders. Severus pulled an apple from his pocket.

"You don't eat meat either?" asked Mr. Potter.

"I do-I just didn't bring any money," stuttered Severus.

"Nonsense, eat," said Mr. Potter.

"Here," Persephone stopped long enough to drop a hamburger on his plate, before returning her attention to Lupin. "Remus, did you see that new book on werewolves? Ow! James! Don't kick me!"

Severus hid his smile with the hamburger as Mr. Potter tipped some chips on his plate. It might not be so bad to be Persephone's brother if it meant parents like this. Everyone was talking when they were not chewing, though some of the Gryffindor boys attempted to do both. Meals at his house were always so quiet. Mr. Potter asked Severus about his books then asked Peter how his brothers were doing.

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

The Death Eaters had not been completely idle in the months since the battle at Riddle House. They had been recruiting. Many of them wore masks, but Severus recognized the young voices of former students. Marcus Flint, Miles Bletchley, Aaric Bole, Charles Warrington. Marcus did not surprise him. His father was also there under a mask. Severus considered asking them how Addy was faring at Beauxbatons, but Flint liked the illusion that the mask hid his identity. He was surprised by Warrington. Severus had had higher hopes for him. Except for Warrington, they were all older than he had been when he joined the Death Eaters, but that seemed ridiculously young now.

He had little time to socialize. The Dark Lord wanted his Death Eaters to gather round and participate in his latest experiment. The loss of sanity that Lucius and Severus dare not discuss had done nothing to damage Lord Voldemort's power or cleverness. If anything it had heightened his attention to detail. What made him more terrible and terrifying was that he seemed to have lost any sense of consequence. The Lord Voldemort of his youth had been extremely aware of every political ripple, every potential loss and gain from his actions, regardless of how horrific the act itself was, there had been some purpose behind it. This Voldemort perhaps had not lost the ability to see such ripples, but he no longer cared about them. The illusion of family had been stripped away for most of Severus's generation, though he was unsure what the young men had been told. Voldemort no longer culled or persuaded; he demanded and expected.

Now he demanded his Death Eaters join him in the main chamber. His preparations were meticulous. There was a scale model of Hogwarts on a pedestal under a glass dome. The floor had been smoothed. There was a perfect circle in ash. Elaborate runes covered the floor, portions of the walls, parts of the pedestal and the Dark Lord's robes. The circle was approximately a rod in diameter₁. The Dark Mark created a nonverbal link between the Dark Lord and his followers at close range, enough so that he could instruct them to form a circle a foot outside the ring without speaking. He guided with thoughts and gestures until the thirty men had squeezed around to his liking. Severus found himself shoulder to shoulder with Lucius and another man. He knew Lucius from the height and the white-blonde strands of hair that had slipped out from under his hood. The other man might have been Crabbe. It was hard to say. Severus had to focus on his Occlumency with the Dark Lord's mind touching so close to his.

"We begin," Voldemort said, though he had neglected to tell his loyal followers what they were beginning. He began to chant, a quick low succession of spells that blended together like a song. The power in the room seemed to crackle and surge. Nothing moved except around the glass enclosed model, but the nature of the plan began unfolding through the Dark Mark's link. They were creating a tornado to hit the Headmaster's tower office. If Dumbledore died from the strike, all the better, but the purpose was mainly one of demonstration. To conquer weather, to invade the most fortified place in Britain with it, would demonstrate the Dark Lord's power in a significant way, might even force the hand of the Ministry into an open surrender.

While there were five thousand ways the plan could go wrong, Severus was more worried about it going right. It bordered on the insane, but insanity often sat beside brilliance. Voldemort was just mad enough to pull it off. He felt power being drawn from himself and the other Death Eaters to feed the spell. He fought the heavy urge to close his eyes and saw the air around the model take shape. The clouds were there already. The Dark Lord was creating wind. It circled...

You'll have to break the circle.

Severus grimaced. That seemed clear enough, but which circle? If he stepped out of place, he was a dead man. The ash was a circle, the glass was a circle, the wind was circling, disturbing any of them would most likely earn him a death sentence. Perhaps that's what she had meant by the last time. He scowled, and behind his Occlumency, tried to sort through his knowledge of magical theory, rituals, and weather magic. His mind told him that this sort of ritual was extremely demanding but also very fragile. He might be able to derail it with minimal effort. The easiest, least obvious thing to do would be to reach out a toe and smudge the ash circle. If the spell simply fizzled out, such a smudge would be easily spotted and impossible to explain away. Severus felt a surge of strength leave him and saw the start of a funnel form over the model. There was no time for caution. He would have to break the circle and break it now.

No sooner had he finished dragging the edge of his sole across the ash line, when the glass exploded. The wind was released inside the chamber and knocked all the Death Eaters off their feet. Severus pushed up to look around and found the wind had also distorted the ash circle past recognition. He sank back down and allowed a few seconds to catch his breath. He heard Lucius's aristocratic grunt beside him as the Malfoy tried to struggle up with some level of dignity.

Lord Voldemort had been quick enough to escape with only a few scratches. A red line graced his white cheek. He alone remained standing. Mudada was the first of the Death Eaters to stagger back up. His dark hands betrayed his identity. The Death Eaters were too few in number to be ethnically diverse. Mudada dropped to a crouching bow, one knee on the ground. "We will try again, My Lord?"

The Dark Lord glared at him with irritation, but Mudada's enthusiasm and respect tended to calm him. Many of the others did not bother rising but curled into deep bowing positions, doing their best to escape the Dark Lord's notice. Lucius, not to be out done, imitated Mudada's dropped knee position but kept his head down. Severus's back ached too badly for swift movement, and he was caught directly looking into the Dark Lord's red eyes when Voldemort's head turned in his direction. He allowed confusion and matters of thaumaturgy rise to the surface of his mind. The Dark Lord must have spent months in preparation for such a grandiose piece of magic and trying again was likely to take another several months, the proper alignment of the stars, and the right meteorological conditions. The Dark Lord held Severus's gaze, and he dared not look away.

"I must...uncover...what disrupted...the ritual in first place," Voldemort said slowly, his high voice dripping acid. He was still wheezing from exertion. Mudada followed his gaze and narrowed his dark eyes accusingly at Severus. He felt his chest tighten. He had survived the Cruciatus Curse in the past but had no desire to repeat the experience. "Go, Severus! I need to know if Dumbledore suspects."

Severus made an extra effort to get to his feet and bent into a hasty bow despite the protests of his back. He did his best to walk swiftly to the stairs with dignity and not betray the mild injury, but he feared that he did move a bit too stiffly. He limped up the stairs, hardly daring to breath.

When he emerged, the night sky had settled over the forest. He Disapparated swiftly, weak but focused enough to return to Hogsmeade, making only a few more stops than when he had come. He staggered a bit on his way to the Three Broomsticks. Hopefully a stiff drink and a good night's rest would put his back in order. He knew Poppy could mend it, but he hated lying to her. This will be the last time.

The phrase would not bother him so much, if Persephone was not so damn accurate. He had a journal full of her little unwitting prophecies. He was long past viewing them as a gift. It was her curse to make them and his to hear them. Not just from her. He had been skulking in the hall, a foolish young spy, when he had overheard Trelawney fall into one of her rare trances.

He was in no mood to listen to the Grey Beards tonight, but he decided he would stay long enough for a drink and a bowl of bat broth. Lord Voldemort was not patient, but he did understand that Severus could not simply stroll up to Dumbledore and demand information.

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

"Did you mean what you said? Do you think of me like a brother?" young Severus had asked Persephone nearly a month after their side trip to Knockturn Alley. It was a warm summer day. Lucius had negotiated with his father to allow a weekly Quidditch practice. Severus had managed to stay mad at him long enough to avoid the manor for a fortnight before returning to the solace of the library. Lucius was practicing with only half his team, which meant a few other potentials had been invited. The Blacks had more respect for Mr. Malfoy's ability to keep his son's gatherings in check, and Bellatrix was busy planning her wedding, so Narcissa had been allowed to take Persephone as an escort.

Narcissa had developed an interest in photography and was taking pictures of the boys, which Lucius seemed to find both annoying and flattering. Persephone was not fond of Quidditch, but she liked being included. Flying and the violence of the game both terrified her, but she was less nervous during practices.

The heat had caused her to discard her outer robes, so she wore only a knee length brown skirt and a short-sleeved, lace trimmed blouse. Severus was still in traditional long-sleeved, black robes. They were thin and had no front openings, so he was able to get away with only boxers underneath. They were lazing in a couple of lawn chairs in the shade of an alder tree while the Quidditch players darted overhead. Persephone frowned at them. "Non, mon ami, I think I'm up to here with brothers." She let out a puff of breath which pouted her lips. "I'd take Remus for James any day, but it seems like I'm getting Sirius instead. He practically lives at the house now. Peter too, but he's not as annoying. It's nice to get away."

Severus was glad she thought of Lupin as her brother. He had been having trouble keeping his thoughts brotherly. The curve of her knee and the pattern the lace made on her arm was fascinating him. He doubted brothers were supposed to linger on such things. "Do they bother you a lot?"

"Not really," Persephone admitted, still watching the players. "Ignore me mostly. They're always locked up in James' room working on some big project."

The players set down and headed for the tray of lemonade perched on a white table not far from where they were sitting.

A tall, good-looking boy with brown hair stopped to give Persephone a smile. "Hey, Sephi, good summer?" She smiled at him and nodded. Severus did not like the way the boy's eyes traveled. He was not the only one to have noticed she was developing curves.

Lucius appeared to nudge his teammate along. "Mm-mm," he said with a slight shake of his head. The good-looking boy laughed and went to take his lemonade. Lucius handed Persephone a glass and asked Severus if he wanted one.

"I'm fine," Severus said, not wanting to give up his seat. Being away from Persephone depressed him, so he had come to believe he was painfully in love with his friend. Painful, because he suspected that if not Lucius himself, she would prefer a boy like him. Tall, good-looking, full of social grace. Just like the boy who had smiled at her. He was worthy of a little jealousy. If Severus remembered correctly this particular boy was heading into his seventh year, a Quidditch player with good grades and enough sense to have avoided Bella's gang. He was the clean, properly ambitious sort who could easily win over parents. Persephone's mother was kind, but Severus believed he worried her a little. No one wanted a scrawny, greasy, little Curse Master hanging around their daughter.

Another boy had handed Narcissa a glass before she made it back to Lucius. She playfully pretended to take his picture before settling beside the Quidditch Captain. Bella's absence had put her in a good mood. Andromeda had also gotten engaged and been properly disowned, which meant she was spending her summer with Ted Tonks. Narcissa was enjoying the scandal. Lucius was doing a fair job of pretending she only had one sister. Persephone had told him quietly, "It's sounds very romantic, but you'd think they could wait." Severus thought little of it.

Andromeda simply was not bound by the rules of propriety that applied to everyone else. He thought she was a bit of an idiot but admired her bravery. If the wizarding world did not accept her, she and Ted could venture off into the Muggle one and could probably be quite happy. Hufflepuffs. No ambition.

His own ambition was flagging. Becoming an Auror was starting to sound like a naive dream. He did not want to end up like his parents, constantly quarreling over money, and he was starting to think he ought to pursue steadier work with a higher pay grade. If he wanted to marry a girl like Persephone, he ought to be able to provide a nice life for her. He certainly was not going to win a girl over with looks and charm. "I'm considering new careers," he said to test his friends' reactions.

Narcissa gave him a sideways look and played with her camera. Her family was part of the old school that discouraged witches from seeking careers before husbands. She tended to retreat into herself when other students discussed their career plans. "It's about time," Lucius said. "Father's going to train me to take over our business concerns once I'm done with school. But you'd be wasted at the Ministry. I could find you something far more lucrative."

"I think it's more important to enjoy your work than make money at it," Persephone said thoughtfully. Lucius gave her the indulgent smile that meant he thought she was being adorably naive. "I understand you need money, but it's important to feel useful. Besides if you enjoyed what you did, you don't need a lot of money to do other things."

"And what if Severus wants a family?" asked Lucius. "He has to consider how he'll support them."

Persephone shrugged one shoulder. "I suppose that's part of considering what you want. But I know I'd rather marry someone happy than rich. I think I might become a healer, then I'd make enough money for both of us."

"Severus, you're clever enough to be a healer," suggested Lucius. It was one of the few professions for which he had a true respect.

Severus squirmed uncomfortably. He did not like the idea of constantly having to deal with sick people all day or constantly dealing with people in general for that matter. "I'll have to think about it."

"Merlin, how can you wear black today?" Narcissa complained with a smirk. "You make me hot just looking at you."

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

"Would you like some of my draught?" Dumbledore asked as Severus sunk down in the chair before his desk with a wince. He had stayed longer than first intended with the Grey Beards. Some of them had noticed an odd cloud formation in the area and had launched into a discussion of weather magic, which he had hoped might be fruitful. His back pain had amused them. They declared he was growing old by osmosis and ought to consider getting married before spending much more time with them. Though I was sixty when I met my current wife, said a wrinkled wizard who wore his long, light grey hair in ringlets. Never too late for a romance.

He waved off Dumbledore's offer. He knew far too much about potions not to be very careful with them. If sleep failed to cure him, he would see Poppy in the morning. "Did you take note of the weather tonight?" asked Severus.

The Headmaster shook his head. "I was sleeping until you woke me up. It's all right. I expected you. I'm guessing it was a long night."

Severus recounted the ritual and what he had learned during his visit, while the furrows on Dumbledore's brow deepened with concern. "Do you think he suspects you?"

Severus spread his hands. "He made no accusation. I was ordered to discover whether you had noticed anything."

"Hmm." Albus Dumbledore tapped a long thin finger against his bearded lip. "While it would be my preference that all men spoke the truth, I believe it might be a better deterrent if we exaggerated my knowledge of the event. Perhaps imply that I, in my great foresight, am now taking steps to shield Hogwarts from such dangers. However I am irritatingly coy with you about the exact nature of these new wards."

Severus gave a tired nod.

"Off to bed with you, now, my boy."

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

Lucius threw a Quaffle at him after the girls had gone home and his teammates were finishing their practice. Severus fumbled the catch, but he had never claimed great coordination. He bent over to pick the ball up, while Lucius tutted at him. "You're never going to make the team if you don't practice," Lucius said.

"Hah," said Severus, giving Lucius a sour look. "There's only seven spots on the team. You're better off saving them for someone who can fly."

Lucius raised his eyebrows. "Didn't you have a flying class your first year?"

Severus glowered at the memory. "I got bucked off the broom."

"Belby didn't work with you?"

Severus shrugged. Senior Belby had made a half-hearted offer, but Severus had had enough humiliation. "Persephone can't use them either."

"Maybe I'll get her a silver one made some day," Lucius said, though there was a hint of hesitation in his voice. Even for him that would be a ridiculously expensive gift. "Regardless, you don't have her condition, so I want you able to play when we're down a man. Come here."

Severus gave Lucius a surly look but decided to humor him. He handed Severus his very nice racing broom. Severus laid the broom gently on the ground and stretched his hand over it. "Up," he said, not expecting anything and getting exactly what he expected.

Lucius's nostrils twitched in annoyance. "Don't say the word. Think it."

Severus was intrigued by this approach, though it made a lot of sense on reflection. Wand work required concentration, if he could treat the broom like a wand. He held his hand over it and focused on not just the word but the concept. UP. The broom flew into his hand, and his fingers closed around it. Lucius's broom was perfectly polished and smooth unlike the knobby school broom had been. Severus liked the feel of it.

"Much better," Lucius said. "Mount it."

Severus tried to angle the broom, so he could throw his leg over it without exposing his boxers. "Keep it straight while you mount." Since it had tried to jump from his hands, he did as Lucius ordered. With a bit of hop, he managed to get across without exposing himself.

Lucius made a slow circle around him. "Don't clutch so tightly, proper brooms have cushioning charms. Pretend it's a horse, find the saddle. You want to be firm, but not strangle it."

"I've never ridden a horse," said Severus.

Lucius's lip twitched. "Neither have I. It's a metaphor." Severus smiled at that. It was comforting to know Lucius had not done something. "Directions are simple. You lift the front up, it goes up. Point down, it goes down. Right, right. Left, left. Hold straight to hover."

Severus blinked at Lucius. He made it sound infinitely more straight forward than the flying instructor had. It had driven him to distraction that Senior Belby had only given them instructions without explanations. "Speed?" he asked.

Lucius smiled at him. "Lean forward for top speed, lean back to stop. It works best if you can coordinate your thoughts to agree with your actions."

Severus nodded and lifted the broom handle to point up, leaning forward very slightly. To his delight, the broom rose, just as he wanted. A broad smile split his lips as he rose higher. Coordinate thought to action. Why hadn't the instructor just said that? Severus pressed his lips together in a determined line and focused on the three large Quidditch rings that poked above the trees in Lucius's back yard. He gripped the handle firmly and leaned forward.

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

His back had improved by the next morning, so he laid in bed a few extra hours to rest it. He used the time to consider how best to get his report on Dumbledore back to Lord Voldemort. It gave him an excuse to write Narcissa, and he began composing that letter in his head. She was not technically a Death Eater, but she was used often enough as a legitimate front. She could be trusted to pass along any messages.

He propped his back against a pillow, so he could sit up comfortably in bed. He conjured a tray and summoned some parchment and a self-inking quill.

Dear Narcissa,

I hope you are well. I realize these are trying times for you and know I am a poor correspondent, but I wished to ease your mind on one point. Other rumors this year have bordered on the absurd, so I wanted to give you an accurate report before exaggerated ones caused you undue concern. I have a standing appointment with a casual group of intellectuals known as the Grey Beards at the Three Broomsticks. When I arrived yesterday evening, several of them commented on having noticed an unusual cloud formation in the vicinity of the school. The Headmaster noticed it as well. He suspects the clouds to have been twisted by some magical means, which is alarming.

However there was no damage done to the school or even serious threat of damage as far as we can assess. The Headmaster reassures me that he will be adding additional wards to the school's protections to prevent possibility of damage to the school from extreme weather. I believe there are some basic lightning deflection charms in place already. Unfortunately I can not tell you what the headmaster plans to do to augment these protections. However since it is Albus Dumbledore, I suspect they will be effective. Be reassured that your son is quite safe here.

Draco continues to do well in my class, though he's always had a talent for Potions. Some of the other professors have commented on his increased studiousness which is encouraging to see since he'll be sitting his N.E.W.T.s at the end of the year. I do not wish to bore you, so I will keep this epistle brief.

Respectfully,

Prof. S.S.

Once the ink was completely dry, he slid the letter into an envelope, sealed it, and took it up to Owlery. The pain in his back had eased to a dull ache, though the twisting stairs did it no favors. Severus was returning from the West Tower when Persephone crossed his path. She looked at him with anxious eyes. "I was worried about you when you missed breakfast."

"No need for worry, I only had a bit of a lie-in this morning." She looked unconvinced. "My back was bothering me a bit." She stepped forward. Her hand reached toward him, but she stopped short. They were not in his office, and that required a stronger guard on their conduct. Severus schooled his features into a mask but allowed an ironic smile. "Back aches are not uncommon for old men."

"You're not old...Professor," she said softly. "Just mature."

Severus felt his smile grow soft. Yes, maybe they could use his textbook after he retired.

"Excuse me, Professor," Draco Malfoy said as he caught up to them. "We were heading to library, but if I need to reschedule..."

"I don't see why," said Professor Snape. He gave a short nod to his clever ally and his beloved and excused himself. He was grateful to Draco now for forcing her to study. If she still had any hopes of being a Healer, she needed her N.E.W.T.s first. He could be patient. He had a lot of practice.

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

They were back in his office by that afternoon, sitting properly, hands twisting in all the ways their bodies were not allowed. "I think I want to be a psychologist." Persephone told him as she slid her fingers across his palm. "We've been learning about the branches of Muggle Medicine. And I think that one's really interesting. We don't really have any equivalent for wizards. When bad stuff happens, people just expect you to buck up or hand you a potion. If it's not a magical problem, we don't know how to deal with it."

Severus allowed his brow to crease thoughtfully. "What does a psyclologist, do?"

She pressed her palm against his. "A psychologist studies the mind, what makes people tick, and I guess how to fix them when their ticker is broken."

"Basically a mental Healer?"

"More or less. A psychologist doesn't use magic. They just sort of talks people through things."

Severus smirked at her. "You want to make a career out of talking?"

She gave him a small smile. "I think it's a special sort of talking but essentially. Everyone needs someone to talk to."

"Normally that would be the role of friends or family." Assuming they had friends. He thought this profession sounded a bit like a friend for hire.

Persephone got one of her far away looks. "There are a lot of things people don't want to tell their friends." She spoke in the voice that made him think she was more thirty-six than sixteen. "And sometimes family's the biggest problem."

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

Severus's home had always seemed twice as dark and small when he returned from the Malfoys' manor. His bedroom was roughly the size of the closet in the Malfoys' guestroom where he had stayed on occasion. Most nights he came home out of fear that he would overextend his welcome with Lucius or Claudius or get caught up in another gathering like Flint's bonfire. Day time at the manor still seemed safe from the rest of the world.

If he was lucky, he could slip up to his room with minimal interaction. "Back are you?" his father demanded from behind his copy of the Daily Prophet. It's terrible reality was splashed in headlines on the front page. MUGGLE TOURISTS IN BATH MURDERED BY KILLING CURSE, ELAINE STARKEY STILL MISSING, CASPER CROUCH ON TRIAL FOR WIFE'S MURDER.

At fourteen, Severus hated newspapers, even the Muggle ones seemed only capable of reporting tragedy. He was depressed enough without carrying the weight of other people's problems. "ANSWER ME WHEN I SPEAK TO YOU!" his father yelled at him without moving from his chair.

"I thought it was a rhetorical question," said Severus blandly at a volume he thought far more civil. His mother glanced up at him from her sewing. She preferred doing it by hand. His parents considered using magic for things easily done by hand to be lazy, though Severus had never sorted out why. They were wizards after all.

"Sarcastic twit, I don't see how the Malfoys put up with you without manors." His father returned his attention to his paper.

Severus was not sure whether his father expected him to answer that or not. It rarely seemed to matter. He had not been trying to be sarcastic. He had thought it was a rhetorical question.

"They've sentenced Janus Thickey's wife to Five Years in Azkaban," Tobias told his wife.

"She got off light," said his mother. "Considering what she did to her husband."

Severus was familiar with this particular case. Lucius had thought Mrs. Thickey completely justified, since her husband had faked his death to go live with a Muggle tavern owner. "She should have fed him to a lethifold," he muttered.

"Think it's funny to murder people, do you?" His father gave him a disgusted look.

Severus was not sure how his father had gotten funny out of his dour tone and blank expression. "I think he deserves what he got."

"Oh, so you're the Wizengamot and Chief Warlock now?"

Severus gave up. He climbed the stairs to his tiny room. There he stretched out on his bed and tried to imagine what it would be like to come home to a hug and a smile.

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

Severus was a little concerned when not only Draco and Persephone were late to the Halloween feast, but Harry Potter and his two Gryffindor friends were absent as well. "Where do you think your Head Boy has gone?" he asked Albus.

"They were going to clean up," Minerva informed them. "They were all covered in pumpkin innards from the carving. Insisted on doing it by hand."

Severus fought the urge to roll his eyes. "Ms. P. and Mr. Malfoy are missing as well."

"We'll ask the ghosts to look for them," Dumbledore said, waving the Fat Friar towards them. The amiable spirit only made it as far as the high table, when the two Slytherins stalked into the Great Hall in a poor temper. The Gryffindor trio followed a minute later, looking bemused.

"There. All is well," said a relieved Dumbledore.

From the scowl on Persephone's face and parlor of Draco's, Severus doubted that, but he was able to enjoy the rest of the feast. Persephone entered his office the next morning like a storm cloud. "Harry is just as bad as James!"

Severus, who in the past had said as much himself, realized how horribly inaccurate it was when coming from someone else. Harry Potter was no saint, but it was rare he caught him cursing anyone in the halls, and that was almost always-- "Did he do something to Draco?"

Persephone's huff seemed to be an affirmative. "I don't even know why they were down there. They had no business--!" Her lip trembled.

Severus stood and walked over to her. "Tell me what happened." She shook her head. "Persephone, I am not just your friend. I'm your Head of House. If one of my students is attacked by someone, I need to be told!"

"He didn't attack us," Persephone admitted. "They didn't break any rules. They were just mean. I can't--I'm not putting up with this all over again. I'm not letting Harry treat Draco the way James treated you! I'm just not!"

Severus wanted to hold her but settled for putting a hand on her shoulder. "What happened?" he repeated gently.

Persephone bit her lip. "There was boggart...and it was really scary. And they just--they laughed."

Severus dropped his hand and returned to his desk. "If your brother's greatest crime against me had been inappropriate laughter, I would have had a rather pleasant school career."

"Draco won't get out of bed," Persephone told him.

"Is that the fault of Mr. Potter or the boggart?" asked Severus. "Coming face to face with your worst fear is...a difficult experience."

Persephone seemed determined to stay mad but sank down in the visitor's chair to chew over what he had said. "That's why it was so mean to laugh," she sulked. He did not argue with her. Memories of his last encounter with a boggart gave him some sympathy for Draco.

Four years ago in the staff room, he had opened the wardrobe only to have her body fall out of it. He had no idea how long he had stared at it before Lupin found him. It's not her, Severus. She'd be much older now. It's not her.

Some part of Severus's mind had already worked that out. I know.

Let me get rid of it for you? Lupin had offered in a delicate voice.

Severus had stopped him. No! He knew it was not real. He knew if he tried to touch her there would be no substance. He knew it was waking every terror in his sleeping heart, but it had been the first time in sixteen years he had had been able to look at her. He did not think he could stand watching her body transformed into something else.

This isn't healthy, Severus. Lupin's voice had seemed so far away, though the man had squatted next to him. I miss her too, but it's not her. Let me put it back in the wardrobe at least.

When Severus had made no move to stop him, Lupin stepped between him and the wardrobe and managed to close it up with the boggart inside. I think it would be good for my students to get a chance to face one in controlled conditions. Do you mind if I bring my class here? Severus had shrugged, and Lupin had gone to fetch his class. He had sat staring at the closed wardrobe for a long time.

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

Before the start of his fourth year at Hogwarts, he had accompanied Lucius to Diagon Alley to buy school supplies. Lucius donated his old textbooks to Severus, which allowed him to keep a little extra money from what his parents had allotted. Lucius of course had to have new books. Their progress through Flourish and Blotts was slow. Everyone either knew Lucius or wanted to know him, so he exchanged many nods and greetings, while Severus searched the shelves for anything worthy of making him part with the Sickles in his pocket. They were on their way out of the store, when the crowd opened enough for him to catch Lily Evan's eye. She gave him a friendly wave, and Severus gave her a crooked smile in return, before hurrying after Lucius.

Severus was relieved to have Lily smiling at him again and did not notice where they were going until Lucius took a step into Knockturn Alley. "Why are we here?" he asked anxiously. Lucius paused and gave Severus his don't-be-tiresome look. "I'm not going in dark magic shops," he said stubbornly, wondering why his friends kept doing this to him.

Lucius relaxed into a smile. "Come on, you'll like Harfang's."

Severus remembered the shop with the drawn shades and tripped along uneasily to keep up with his friend. "Isn't this street a bit...Look, I'm not allowed down here, and I'm not sure I trust shops where I can't see in the windows."

Lucius glanced over his shoulder at him and smirked. "If you couldn't see in the windows, that probably means the shop is closed. Harfang owns Obscurus Books too. He only runs the shop as a hobby so it has short hours."

Severus was intrigued in spite of himself. Obscurus had published some of his favorite books. As Lucius had implied the shades were open, though the windows were so dingy it was still hard to make out the contents of the small shop. Lucius did not pause but twisted the knob and strode inside. A bell rang to announce them. The narrow shop was divided into two rows of shelves. Severus was delighted to see the row before him was filled with thick old books. The second row seemed to hold a variety of curiosities, but his eyes were already fixated on a copy of Moste Potente Potions.

"Ah, Lord Malfoy," a grey haired wizard in stately green robes and a top hat greeted them. "Come in boys. I normally don't allow children in my shop, but I know the Malfoys keep good company."

Lucius smiled with amusement, clearly enjoying the title. "Thank you, Lord Longbottom."

The older gentleman winced, "Please, I prefer Lord Harfang. Longbottom is an unfortunate surname."

Lucius chuckled and casually made his way through the curios aisle. Severus could not leave the books and began running his eyes over the spines. "Are you really a Lord?" Severus asked when he felt the shop owners eyes on him.

"Not in the traditional sense," said Harfang in a good humor. "But haven't heard? All you need to do these days to adopt the title is keep calling yourself Lord until other people pick it up."

Lucius chuckled more softly this time, and Severus knew he was missing some joke. Not to be left out he said, "Could I be Lord Severus, then?"

The shop keeper looked at him shrewdly and shook his head. "Lords never ask for their title. Besides if you're going to give yourself a rank, you may as well go for a grand one. Prince Severus sounds better, don't you think?"

Severus grinned and let his curtain of hair fall to hide his blushing face. "What am I Prince of?"

"The Aisle of Books," said Lucius, peaking around the corner at him. "Anything catch your fancy?"

Severus could only offer a breathless grin in response. He could happily die here. Every book called to him. Occluding the Mind; Animagi; Stürmen Sie Hersteller; Unbreakable Enchantments; Resurrection Spells; Theories of Transubstantial Transfiguration;...

"Do you have anything on vampires?" he asked Harfang. "Something accurate and not romanticized?"

Harfang pulled himself away from the store counter to slide a black bound book with a one inch spine and worn edges off the shelf and handed it to Severus. The title was pressed into the cloth cover and stenciled in faded silver. The Dark Creature Rituals. "Nothing romantic in there," Harfang promised. "Most technically accurate description of a vampire transformation that you'll find though."

Severus flipped through the book reverently. Thankfully there were no illustrations, but there was a chapter on vampires. Also chapters on Dementors; Golems; Kappas; Basilisks; Ghosts, Poltergeists, & Boggarts; Banshees; Quintapeds; and Runespoors. He skimmed a few sentences and found it properly academic. "How much?"

Harfang took two Sickles for the book and returned to the counter to wrap up the fragile and beautiful little bottle Lucius was purchasing. "What is that?" Severus asked.

"Opaleye Tears," Lucius told him, and Severus felt his breath catch.

"Very rare," Harfang said, then smirked. "Well, perhaps I should say rare to find anyone who can bottle them, and rarer still to get a customer who can afford them. I do enjoy your visits Lord Malfoy."

Lucius gave him a smug smile. "Not quite the den of darkness you were expecting?" he remarked to Severus as they left. Severus shook his head, still having trouble tearing his eyes away from the pocket where he knew the Opaleye Tears were tucked away. "Trust me, again?"

Severus nodded. "Why'd Harfang set up shop in Knockturn if he doesn't specialize in Dark Arts?"

"Cheaper rent," answered Lucius. "And don't confuse dark with obscure or unusual. Very few spells are truly evil."

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

Persephone's absence from the Quidditch match did not trouble Severus. She was terrified of brooms and Bludgers. She had forced herself to endure a few matches when Lucius first made Quidditch Captain, but they made her so nervous he had soon ordered her to stay in the common room. He was more troubled by Draco's absence and the appearance of both plus Remus Lupin towards the end of the match.

Later Persephone confirm he had come to speak to her. "Why didn't you tell me Remus had been a teacher too? I wish he was teaching now. He's such a sweetheart."

He grumbled to Dumbledore about it, only to learn Remus had pieced things together on his own. This troubled him for other reasons.

There was little he could do about it, so he tried to focus on his work. His seventh year students had drafted their initial proposals for their individual potions experiments. It was his favorite set of lessons as he enjoyed the mix of methodology and creativity. The initial proposals usually provided him some entertainment. He hid from Persephone in the teacher's lounge to avoid interruption while he perused them.

Pansy Parkinson wanted to experiment with love potions of all things, absolutely not. Draco Malfoy wanted to try putting Draught of Living Death in pill form, that was clever. Hermione Granger wanted to improve the potency of Wolfsbane with an interest in working it towards a cure. She might actually pull that off in fifty years. He wondered if Lupin would volunteer for methodical experimentation.

Severus wished he had done something as ground breaking as Wolfsbane. Most of his published work had consisted of minor improvements to existing potions. The Ministry had been ridiculously stubborn about letting him teach from his own textbook, so he had circumvented them by teaching from the blackboard. The official potions text was horrendously out dated. Maybe if he retired, they'd let him publish his textbook. For his legacy, he could be the bane of students for generations to come.

Harry Potter, who had probably never opened a textbook in his life, had also ignored his rather pointed advise not to take the assignment lightly. He wanted to improve the taste of Polyjuice, which made Severus wonder when and why he had ever tasted the stuff. He scanned his mind for people acting in unusual ways that made more sense if Potter was imitating them, but nothing specific came to mind. The proposal read like Potter had seen the ingredient list of the complex potion many years ago and only half-remembered them.

Persephone's ire with her nephew had faded, though she seemed disinterested with him now, which suited Severus just fine. He was trying to like Harry for her sake, but it was difficult. The boy had stolen from him, spied on him, blamed him for Sirius's death, and never even given him half a thank you for the fifty times he had saved his life. What irked Severus the most was how casual Potter was with his lessons, rare spikes of concentration told him that Potter was capable of far more than this half-baked attempt.

With a sigh, he pressed on to more studious students. Padma Patil wanted to try to improve the potency of Wit-Sharpening Potion by trying slight variations in the stages of brewing, predictable but permissible. Indigo Stump wanted to try blending Veritaserum with a Babbling Beverage to see if it could produce spontaneous poetry in the drinker, useless but inventive. Daphne Greengrass wanted to...no that was worse than the love potion. Severus wondered, not for the first time, what was wrong with that girl. She had had enough sense to write a second proposal option involving burn-healing paste. He quickly made a First Option Unacceptable, Second Option Approved note at the top of the scroll.

Shuddering he tossed her proposal aside and unrolled Neville Longbottom's. Longbottom's essays were generally better than his class work, though rarely more than a barebones approach to the assignment. Severus was completely taken aback by the detailed and passionately written proposal on grafting Fanged Geraniums onto honking daffodils to increase the potency of their seeds for Nerve Regenerative Potions. There were detailed illustrations on the process, Herbological explanations on why he thought the grafting might improve seed potency, and lengthy notes on the current limits of Nerve Regeneration. Professor Snape reread the scroll several times to fully absorb its nuances.

It was far simpler than the sort of thing Hermione Granger was proposing, but its simplicity made it far more likely to produce results. Sprout had bragged on Neville's Herbology talents a few times. But she was a kind woman, and Severus had just thought she was being kind to the hapless boy. This however showed that he had dismissed him too quickly. Severus decided he owed it to Pomona to share this with her. He leaned back in his chair and allowed a smile mixed with chagrin. This was the Neville Longbottom that could pull an O on his Potions O.W.L. It was nice to finally meet him.

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

Severus had been unable to wait until May for her birthday and gave Persephone the book he had bought her on the train to Hogwarts. She repaid him with a smile and a tight hug and spent the entire ride devouring it, starting with the chapter on vampires. He considered it a good investment of his Sickles and spent his time on the train reading ahead in his Arithmancy textbook.

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

He averaged one letter per week from Oliver. They rarely discussed them, but he caught her delight when she received one at the breakfast table.

Dearest Persephone,

I thought you would like to know that Mary and John have started dating. She likes him better now that he has learned to be serious. The winter is starting to settle in all around us. The lake has yet to ice over, but it will. The trees have lost their color.

Rumors reached me that Andrew has become engaged to your friend Delilah. Gossip travels faster than owls here. I suppose if it's true he'll write me about it eventually, or perhaps I'll just read about it in the paper. I read the paper daily now, looking for some hint.

Mark has been in an absurdly good mood. He's staying with John still, brags about his motorcycle, and the money his rich uncle sent him. Zaccharias tells me they've burned him off the family tree. Him and the uncle both. I don't think my family has a tree to burn me off, but I've come to regard disappointing my parents as a matter of course. Mark's high spirits trouble me. With the dark tidings brought in with the papers, most people have grown more sullen, but it's almost like he's excited by it.

He and John stole my book bag yesterday. One of the second years found it hung in a tree this morning. Most of my books were in it, but my favorite quill was missing, the one you gave me. I know they stole it, because John was using my quill in class. I recognized it by the splay of the barbs, but he refused to return it. I am afraid I made a spectacle of myself trying to get it back. Detention with Sabers again. I don't care. I just want my quill. Hang the quill. It won't bring you back.

Mary gives me a pitying look whenever she sees me.

Simon met me in town last weekend. He said the Hunting Club is getting popular and I ought to consider joining, but I don't care much for hunting. I think Andrew may be a member. He has been busy with something besides an engagement. I wish he would write me. Simon told me Jezebel found a Muggle man sneaking around her garden. He claimed he was there because she fascinated him, and he wanted to be close to her. So she granted his wish and turned him into a birch tree. I admit anyone dimwitted enough to stalk Jezebel will serve the world better as a tree. I wonder what would have happened if her husband had discovered him.

I don't mean to disparage Andrew. He's caught up in the adult world of business and marriage and can't be expected to devote his free time to old school chums. I hope he is marrying Delilah, and they can be happy. I can't think of two people better suited to each other. He's offered to find me a position after graduation, but I don't know if I'm suited to his world. I have trouble concentrating sometimes.

I was thinking the other day about that time we played Gobstones. The world seemed to consist of you, me, and a circle on the ground with little stones in it. It's still a dumb, smelly game, but I miss the world being simple.

Love,

Oliver