All This Time

ALL THIS TIME

II: Anac's Advice

There they were, dignified, invisible,

Moving without pressure, over the dead leaves,

In the autumn heat, through the vibrant air.

-- T. S. Eliot

Three days flew by quickly, even though Sev spent much of his time in their rooms at the Cauldron; Mr. Lupin insisted that he go out only when necessary, and Sev was wise enough not to risk his education for a little bit of freedom. He didn't see his grandfather again, but he was assured by Lupin that Carver would, over the holidays, be eager to hear of his grandson's progress, and would send him owls during the school year.

He wasn't sure what to make of the other three boys. James was all right, but too loud, and a little arrogant; still, Sev tried to like him, as Carver told him that the Potters were a very good old family. Peter was quiet, and often Sev forgot he was there.

He studied Remus Lupin, though. He'd never met a real live werewolf. He didn't particularly wonder that they were letting him into Hogwarts; not having been raised by wizards, he had no idea of the prejudice against them that most -- including his grandfather -- possessed.

He was first awake on the morning of their departure, and was packed up and sitting on his trunk -- a brand new brass-and-leather trunk, the nicest thing he'd ever owned -- before the others had even finished dressing. None of them had much appetite, except for James and Mr. Lupin, who were happy to devour their breakfasts for them.

"I've borrowed this from a friend of mine," Lupin said, when they were finished eating. He held up a silvery, glimmering cloak. "It's an Invisibility cloak -- "

"That's my father's!" James announced excitedly.

"So it is, young Potter, and I'm to give it to you when Sev's done with it," Mr. Lupin said gravely. "Though you're not to use it, James -- no, I'm serious now -- you're not to use it except on holidays. I told your father I didn't think it was a good idea entrusting it to you so young, but he says he got it when he was a first-year."

The other three watched admiringly, James slightly possessively, as Sev draped the cloak over himself, vanishing from sight.

It wasn't easy, getting three boys, four trunks, and one Invisible Lad to the station, but Rufus Lupin was a hearty, easygoing sort of fellow, and they arrived with fifteen minutes to spare.

"I think you'll be safe, now," Lupin said in Sev's ear, once they were on the platform. "Your parents won't be able to get on the platform. Stick with James and Remus -- oh, and Peter, there you are lad -- until you're sorted. Boys, look after each other," he added. "I'm off to make sure nobody...oh, Severus, do give the cloak to James...good...I'm off..." he added, somewhat distractedly, and vanished into the crowds.

Even as early as they were, there was only one compartment with no students in it, and that had a tall, pale man in black, sitting patiently with his hands folded. He looked up as James peered inside.

"Cars're full," James said, rather flippantly, Sev thought. "Mind if we share this one?"

The man waved a hand. When Sev got a good look at his face, he gaped. He looked so much like uncle Arith that he might have been his twin.

"I shan't be traveling all the way to Hogwarts," the man said, in a deep, calm voice. "You're welcome to the compartment."

"Ta," James said, dragging Remus and Sev into it. Peter followed timidly. "I'm James, this is Remus and that's Sev."

"I'm Peter," added the blond boy. The man gave them a crooked, not-very-nice smile.

"You may call me Anac," the man replied. His eyes moved to Severus. "You are all First Years?"

"Yes, sir," Sev replied.

"Then I'm not too late," the man said, more to himself than to them. "Excellent."

The whistle blew as they were settling down, and there was a shout from the platform; a scruffy boy in torn jeans was running to catch up to the train as it jerked to life. He sped past their own window -- the man Anac watching with disinterest as he did so -- and leapt for the railing by the doors. They heard him crash aboard, and stumble down the hallway.

"That was /brilliant/!" James cried, leaning out to greet the boy.

"Bollocks, I thought I was going to die," the boy answered. "My parents overslept -- House-elf dropped my trunk -- we only just got it on the train when I realised I'd left my wand behind -- " he patted his pockets frantically, pulling it out. "Mum and Dad said to run for it." He wheezed, slightly. "Oh hell," he added, gasping for air.

Sev glanced back at Anac, and saw a look of deep dislike on the man's face. He frowned, puzzled.

"I'm James. Come sit in our compartment," James announced. "Scoot over, Peter. What's your name?"

"Sirius," the boy grunted, as Peter was squashed against the window. "Sirius Black. With an I, like the star. I /know/ it's a dumb name," he added, scowling.

They talked of inconsequentials, boy-talk -- what did they think Hogwarts was going to be like, who did they know in the Wizarding world; Sirius, as it turned out, was from another old family, and knew Carver Snape through his father, who did business with him when in London. James and Sirius traded a couple of Chocolate-Frogs cards, and Remus tried to show them how to make sparks with his wand, to very little effect. Anac looked on with a lazy indifference, except when his eyes fell on Sirius. When they were well out into the countryside, he rose, and laid a hand on Sev's shoulder.

"I believe," he said smoothly, "that I am approaching my stop. Will you help me?"

Sev knitted his brows together, but nodded, and followed him out of the compartment, down the corridor to the end of the car. The man leaned against the door, crossed his arms, and looked down.

"You, no doubt, see the resemblance," he said, in the same smooth tones he'd used earlier, "To your uncle Arith."

"Are you uncle Barrin?" Sev asked. The man looked perplexed, then shook his head.

"No. I am...more distant from you than that blood tie," he said slowly. "I hope you will trust me as a relation, however. One who only intends to do good for you."

"Good for me?" Sev asked, beginning to be nervous. "Frank didn't send you to bring me back, did he? I won't go -- "

"Nonsense, boy, stop jumping to conclusions," Anac said impatiently. "Who do you think sent James Potter to warn your grandfather to hide you? Give me two minutes' time and you won't regret it."

Sev swallowed, and inched his hand towards his wand, just in case. The man tossed long black hair out of his eyes.

"Your grandfather wishes you to join Slytherin house. That is...undesireable. Do you understand?"

"No."

"I suspected not. Very well, then, I haven't much time. When you are sorted -- no, I won't explain, you'll see -- you must refuse Slytherin house. Do not allow yourself to be put in Slytherin, but if you are, you must not be fooled by the children there."

He looked so intense, and seemed so certain of things, that Sev nodded, slowly.

"Will you do this thing?" the man asked.

"But why -- "

"Don't ask me questions I can't answer. Will you?"

"Of...of course," Sev stammered. "What do I care what house I'm in?"

Anac nodded. "Good lad. Listen closely now. You want power?"

"Yes."

"There is power inherent in honour," Anac said.

And he vanished.

Sev blinked.

"Where'd the old bastard go?" James asked, leaning out and shouting down the corridor at Sev.

"I don't know," Sev answered.

"What'd he want help with?"

"Some luggage," Sev said, offhandedly.

"Well, come on back in then, Sirius has Exploding Snap. Ever played?" James asked, as Severus slid back into the little compartment.

"No. Is it a Wizard game?"

Sirius gave him a mildly disgusted look. "Fancy you not knowing!" he said. "We're going to have to educate you, Sev."

"And me!" Peter piped up. Sirius and James exchanged a look.

"And you, Peter," Sirius replied dismissively. "Now. The point of the game..."

***

Watch.

The hand is not, in point of fact, faster than the eye, but Destiny /is/. It unrolls like a Persian carpet, every thread slightly different, pressed against the next so tightly that sometimes it's difficult to tell where one ends and the next begins. On the other hand...sometimes it is quite easy to see.

Children are being sorted. They are terrified, some of them -- will I go in the wrong house? Will it hurt? What if I'm not sorted at all? What if my Prefect is horrible? What the hell is a Hufflepuff, anyhow?

Black, Evans, Lupin, Malfoy. There are other names, too. Patil, Pettigrew, Potter. So many names.

Snape.

Not quite delicate, that lad. Grandson of old Carver. Parents are Muggles, I heard. Arith's nephew. Doesn't look quite right, does he? Looks like he's spent too much time outside. Think he's Gryffindor material? No, all the Snapes go into Slytherin, they're like Malfoys that way. Yes, but Arith and Barrin were nice enough chaps --

In one split moment, the boy touches the brim of the hat, hesitantly. And in one place, the hat sends him to Slytherin, and Tertius Malfoy and a few other first-years welcome him with half-friendly smiles.

A hairsbreadth away, he bites his tongue and wishes with all his might to do what the man who looks like uncle Arith thinks is right. He mustn't go into Slytherin, something terrible will happen if he does...

***

The Hat curled itself down over Sev's ears, and he touched it, hesitantly.

"Ah yes. Little Severus. A very brave young man," the Hat said, so quietly only he could hear. "But Snapes always /want/ something, they're forever chasing after things. What is it you want?"

Severus' mind stretched back to the train, that morning.

"Power," he whispered. "I want everyone to know I'm not a squib. I'm a wizard."

"Ah! How unoriginal. Better be -- "

"No, wait..."

The Hat was silent for a moment.

"I don't just want power. I don't want to have to /show/ anyone I have power," he added. "I just want it to be seen."

/There is power inherent in honour,/ came Anac's voice again.

"How...unusual," the Hat replied. "Honour, eh? Not quite the Gryffindor type, though. You wouldn't like them." It heaved a sigh. "Ravenclaw," it murmured, sounding somewhat confused. The teachers raised their eyebrows, but Sev was off like a shot, to sit next to Sirius at the Ravenclaw table.

Nearby, from the Gryffindor table, Remus and James beamed at him, while Peter tried to ask James a question.

***

The next morning, Sev was again the first one up; his habits at home, of rising before his parents and being out walking before they could miss him, seemed to carry over well in his school life. He was one of the few students yet awake at breakfast, and by far the most alert amongst them. He was just finishing his egg and toast -- he had a /much/ better appetite now that he was at Hogwarts and, to his young mind, unstoppable -- when Remus stumbled into the hall, tousle-haired and yawning. Several Gryffindor third-years trooped in behind him and began crankily complaining about early-morning classes.

"We've Transfiguration first, Gryffindor and Ravenclaw double-class," Sev said, by way of making conversation. Remus, moving his plate and glass over to the Ravenclaw table across from Sev, grunted, and bit into his toast. "Listen, does the Transfigurations professor know about your..." he made a complicated and pointless gesture, and Remus was suddenly wide awake.

"My what?" he asked, panicked.

"You know," Sev dropped his voice. "The reason you couldn't shake hands with me."

"Does it show?" Remus demanded. He was turning paler by the minute. "How did you -- "

"Shut up, calm down, and stop gibbering," Sev commanded. Remus shut his mouth with an audible click. "I saw the hairs on your knuckles, and you wouldn't shake hands with me because I had silver on. That's all. And your ears are sort of pointy."

Remus hastily brushed hair over his ears.

"I guess nobody knows," Sev observed.

"Sorry, it's just...nobody /can/ know. You won't tattle, will you? The other students would -- they'd never talk to me, and their parents would kick up a fuss -- I only just /got/ here, Sev, you wouldn't get me thrown out, would you?"

"For being a..." he stopped at the look on Remus' face. "Why would they...?"

"You wouldn't know, would you? You've not been raised Wizarding," Remus said bitterly. "They're terrified of...of people like me."

"You're not going to go nuts and bite me, are you?" Sev asked.

"Not this minute, no."

"Then I don't care."

"Promise you won't tell."

Sev rolled his eyes. "What's in it for me?" he asked. Remus went a shade paler, if that were possible.

"In it...?"

"Well, I mean this sort of thing is an effort, isn't it? A little repayment should be in order."

Remus stammered. "I...I haven't got much money, just what my dad gave me for -- "

Severus waved a hand. "I don't want money, I've got money," he said. He contemplated Remus carefully. "I want the password to your Common room."

The other boy looked bewildered. "Why?"

"So I can get in, of course. I'm going to try and see all the common rooms before first year's out. It'll make life interesting," Sev added.

"But if you get caught..."

"I'll say a bunch of seventh-years were talking and I overheard them."

"And you might steal something -- "

"Please! I'm not a /criminal/. Besides, they change every week, so it's not like you're giving me permission to go in and out all year."

"And if I do this, you'll keep mum?"

"Yes."

"That's blackmail."

"Live with it," Sev said, bluntly.

"I hate you."

"I will somehow survive."

Remus, slyly, flicked a bit of egg across the table. It stuck to Sev's forehead, and the dark-haired boy crossed his eyes trying to look up at it. Remus covered his mouth with his hand, trying to smother the laughter. After a moment, Severus plucked the egg off his forehead and set it daintily next to his plate.

"I'd shave those knuckles, if I were you," Sev said, over their mutual laughter. Just then, someone grabbed him in a headlock.

"Say 'Sirius Black is King of the First Years'!" someone cried. Sev struggled. "Come on, say it!"

"Sirius Black is a toad-kisser!" he answered, pinching Sirius' arm. The other boy released him, laughing.

"A toad-kisser! I've got to remember that one," James said, settling himself at the Ravenclaw table next to Remus.

"What's it like in Gryffindor, anyway?" Sev asked. They shrugged.

"Nice enough digs," James said.

"Lots of red and gold," Remus added. "How about Ravenclaw?"

"Books all over," Sev replied. "All the older kids are really smart."

"Well, we got the looks, someone's got to have the brains," James said with a grin. Sirius threatened to headlock him, then stole a slice of toast from Sev's plate.

"Listen, place is filling up, we'd better hop to Gryffindor or some Prefect'll lynch us," James said. "See you in Transfigurations, yeah?"

Sev and Sirius nodded, and watched as James and Remus ambled down to where the rest of the Gryffindor First Years had clustered themselves. A great horde of owls swooped in through the windows, and soon the tables were littered with mail, newspapers, and packages of forgotten things, from parents. Sev's owl Strix, a black-headed creature with white stripes that gave it the look of having perpetually surprised eyebrows, swooped in empty-clawed, and began to viciously destroy the last of his breakfast.

Another one, an unassuming brown barn owl, dropped two letters onto Strix's head. He flapped in annoyance while Sev saved them from his beak. Sirius, next to him, was opening a Daily Prophet.

The first one was from his Grandfather, gruffly advising him to do well in school, stay away from bad elements, make the family proud, and, at the very bottom, a half-hinted hope that he would enjoy himself while doing all this.

Sev wondered what happened to boys who went from having parents who could care less what they did -- so long as they did nothing magical -- to having thirteen generations of Snape pride resting on their shoulders. He tucked the letter into his bookbag.

The other one was a rich red colour, sealed in white, and looked quite elegant. Sirius eyed it fearfully. Several of the other boys were staring outright.

"What'd you do to get a Howler /already/?" one of them asked in awe. Sev stared down at the letter.

"What's a Howler?" he asked. Several boys snickered.

"Open it," a seventh-year Ravenclaw prefect commanded. "Don't be all day about it now."

Sev slit the envelope, wondering why everyone else was covering their ears.

Soon he found out.

"LYING TO YOUR MOTHER! HIDING YOUR MAGICAL ABILITY! BOY, I OUGHT TO TAN YOUR HIDE AND WOULD HAVE IF YOU HADN'T RUN OFF LIKE A COWARD IN THE NIGHT! SHAME ON YOU AND ALL YOUR WIZARDING WAYS, I HOPE YOU FAIL EVERY CLASS AND ARE SENT HOME IN A DISGRACE! THAT WOULD TEACH YOU TO GO AGAINST THE WISHES OF YOUR PARENTS! IF I GET MY HANDS ON YOUR GRANDFATHER I'LL -- "

Severus had been staring in shock at the letter, which was announcing in a booming loud voice -- his father's voice -- that he was a disgrace and a liar, a coward and a thief. Now someone tapped the paper with a wand, and it seemed to shy away, sealing itself back up and leaping out of his hand before setting itself aflame.

"Imagine, sending a child a Howler for coming to Hogwarts," said a scornful voice behind him, and he turned to see who had stopped the noise.

A pale, hard face looked down at him; cold like marble, but smiling in a grim sort of way. Clever, keen eyes, and two or three students standing on either side of him. His smile widened slightly, revealing perfect, even white teeth.

"A Howler," he announced to the boys and girls watching him, "Is the worst sort of petty magic."

"My father doesn't do magic," Sev said, stunned. "He must have gotten someone to help him."

"A Muggle, eh?" the man asked.

"No -- well -- he's a squib," Sev said, squirming in embarrassment.

"That is something at any rate." The man tapped his wand against his teeth, thoughtfully. "And your mother?"

"Her too."

"A...squib?"

"Yes...sir," Sev added, figuring that an honorific or two at this point couldn't hurt.

"But you yourself, and your relatives?"

"My...I have a grandfather and an uncle. And I think a few cousins of my mum's." The pale man's stare was unnerving.

"I see. What is your mother's surname?"

"They won't...you're not going to /do/ anything to them, are you?"

"For a misplaced Howler? No, my dear boy. Squibs such as your parents are to be pitied and ignored. I am merely curious as to your parentage," he added. "I make it a hobby."

"My mother's surname is Brennan. My father's is Snape," he added, hoping the pale man would go away. Instead, he shot a glance at one of the girls standing near him. She smiled at Sev in a rather nicer manner.

"You do indeed have cousins on your mother's side," the pale man said. "She has a sister, of course, and that sister has two children. Her maternal grandfather was my paternal grandfather, as well -- old Jack Kiernan, I'm named for him. Don't look so surprised," he added, when Sev gaped. "Most of the old families are related, sooner or later. Welcome to the school, Snape-Brennan."

Sev wanted to say that it was just Snape, that his parents hadn't gone in for hyphenation, but the pale man -- Professor Kiernan -- was already walking away. The Ravenclaw girl next to him was looking amused.

"I've heard of him," she said. "He's in while the regular Master is on sabbatical. Head of Slytherin, too. Calls everyone by their parents' names. Nut for genealogy, mum says, though I think it's a bit suspect. So does dad. Why's he want to know where the pureblood families are marrying? dad asks. What's he care? Most Muggles who come here turn out to be grand wizards, anyhow," she concluded.

"Well said," Sirius added, stuffing a sausage into his mouth. "Here, I've left my quill in the dorm, borrow me one of yours?"