Armilla

Chapter 48

To say that Snape seemed a bit off an hour later when he returned would have been the understatement of the century. His foul mood wasn't highlighted by slamming the door when he returned. On the contrary, Snape didn't seem the 'I'm gonna show how upset I am by slamming the door' sort of person.

He closed the door quietly, but strode purposefully to the workbench, sat down and started shredding roots as if they had committed a mortal sin and now they had to pay for it. The expression on Snape's face was so alarming that I kept my eyes on my own work and tried to avoid being noticed at all.

I had been busily chopping my own ingredients, having taken Snape's advice by pretending that they were Rougier. It had made quite satisfying work really. If only I could have really turned the governess into a stew...though that probably would have been a waste; I would have bet that even Hagrid's dog, Fang, would have turned his nose up at it.

After shredding the roots with a disturbingly mutinous expression, Snape pulled some beetles towards him and started to grind them, his eyes narrowed and his lips pursed, but somehow his expression seemed the tiniest bit softer.

"Who are you pretending those beetles are?" I asked softly, thinking that Snape was using the same approach that he had recommended to me.

Snape paused and looked up at me sharply, and I wished that I hadn't asked. Now I was the victim of the furious glare. Even so, I held eye contact with him, determined not to be the first to break away. Finally, when I was resigned that Snape would certainly not answer such a question, he lowered his eyes back to the beetles and answered.

"The Headmaster," he said bitterly.

I stared at him, but Snape didn't look back at me. He continued to grind the beetles, his manner becoming increasingly agitated. Snape must have argued with Dumbledore. Maybe the Headmaster had asked him to do something that he didn't want to do. Flashes of my father's face and Coleman's suddenly came to mind out of no where and it was all I could do to keep my hand steady as I chopped roots.

We continued our work in silence for a few moments, each of us lost in thought. I had to know why Dumbledore had wanted to see Snape. I was petrified that it had something to do with Father or Coleman or the reason why Snape was unavailable to come and get me on New Year's Day. Snape had refused to give me any information on the subject, but it hadn't stopped me worrying about Coleman's report to You Know Who.

Snape sighed, pushing the beetles away from him. He stood and walked over to a bubbling cauldron, his face showing a sort of repressed fury. I hadn't seen him look so angry for a long time. I was just glad that I hadn't caused it.

Finally satisfied that all of the potions were progressing according to plan, Snape returned to the workbench and collected his shredded roots into a small clear container.

"Finish what you're doing there," he said as he sealed the container and placed it on a shelf. "The house elves are flooing in some dinner for us so we won't have to venture up to the Great Hall."

I was happy with that. The four House tables had been put back in their places now since so many students had returned from their holidays. I had no interest in eating at the Ravenclaw table since Lisa and Terry weren't back and I didn't feel like making chitchat with other people. I wasn't generally that unsocial...perhaps I had spent too much time away from other students.

"We will go to London first thing tomorrow morning," said Snape, using his wand to direct unused ingredients back to their places on the shelves around the room. "I have a couple of places I need to go to, as well as Flourish and Blotts for you."

"Alright," I answered, placing the last of my ingredients away. I turned to look at my brother. He was staring hard at the container which held the shredded roots with a revolted look. Suddenly he took his wand out again and warded the room against intruders and eavesdroppers.

"We...also need to take a little detour on our way back to Hogwarts," he said sneering.

I looked at him in surprise. "Where to?"

"Grimmauld Place."

Ah, hence the foul mood.

"Why?" I asked, hoping I wouldn't receive the 'you know you shouldn't ask and I'm still not going to tell you' look.

Snape eyed me, his arms folded and his expression unfathomable.

"I need to pay a visit to my favourite student," he said acidly.

"I didn't know you had a favourite," I said evenly.

Snape raised an eyebrow. "Not jealous are we?"

"No," I said indifferently, "certainly not after the way you said that." I paused, knowing straightaway which particular student Snape was referring to.

"Why Harry?"

Snape looked at me sharply, though I didn't know whether it was because I had used the boy's first name or because I had made the assumption that it was Harry.

"Well, if anyone asks you," he said, frowning slightly as he addressed me, "the story is that Potter is such an abysmal potion maker that he requires remedial Potions sessions so he can attempt to pass his OWLS."

I nodded. "And what's the real story?"

Snape considered me for a moment, still frowning. "This is one of those subjects where absolute discretion in required on your part. You are to discuss this with no one. Understood?"

"Yes," I said. I wondered what Harry had to do.

Snape sighed again. "I have to teach Potter Occlumency. It would appear that there is some sort of mental connection between Potter and the Dark Lord."

"So you have to teach him to close his mind to the Dark Lord?" I asked, concealing my horrified feeling. Fancy sharing a connection with the Dark Lord! Poor Harry.

Snape nodded, his black eyes glittering.

"How long do you think it will take to teach him?"

"Significantly longer than the time it took to teach you," he answered, scowling. "Potter lacks the dedication, focus and discipline it takes to master Occlumency. I pointed that out to the headmaster, but who am I to insult the wondrous Boy Who Lived?"

Well, it would seem that I had sent him off into a rant about his favourite student.

"So the task has fallen to me," he went on, looking positively infuriated, "to educate and hopefully protect Potter knowing things he shouldn't."

"What sort of things?"

Snape narrowed his eyes. "Never you mind."

I shrugged. "I thought it was worth trying."

"Indeed."

I looked over at the container holding the roots that had become the latest victims of Snape's wrath.

"Oh," I said, more to myself than to Snape, gazing at the container.

"Oh?" he repeated, looking suspicious.

"If the beetles were Dumbledore, then the shredded roots must have been Harry," I said, gesturing to the container on the shelf.

Snape gave me a dour look. "Was I that obvious?" he said sardonically.

"Just a bit," I said, giving him a small smile.

o o o o o o o o o o o o

After dinner that night, Snape left to see Dumbledore again. Of course I didn't know what about and I knew better than to ask. But I could be secretive too. Alone in our quarters in the dungeons, I used the opportunity to use Morag to send a request off to Flourish and Blotts about Snape's birthday present. It was fortunate that Snape and I had taken to letting Morag out the past few nights so that she wasn't restricted to the dungeons. Snape wouldn't think there was anything irregular about the owl's absence.

Snape returned just as I was getting into bed. I had always stayed up later while at Father's house because I had had to memorise stupid books. But Snape was still so strict about going to bed on time, even though I was still on holidays.

"Ah," he said stopping in the doorway. "I was about to tell you to go to bed."

"I didn't think you'd let me stay up any later," I replied. Hint, hint. I was sure another hour wouldn't have made me any worse off.

"You thought right," he said, folding his arms and leaning against the doorframe. He gave a small smile. "And you'll need to improve your subtlety, Armilla, if you wish to manipulate me. That was a poor effort."

I smiled. "I'll try harder tomorrow night."

"Will you indeed?" He smirked. "I'll schedule myself a triumph at nine-thirty tomorrow night then. Should be enjoyable."

I sighed. "Nine-thirty it is then."

Snape looked surprised. "Excuse me?' He walked further into the room, smirking still. "Was that an admission of defeat?"

"No," I muttered.

"No? I do believe it was, Armilla." He shook his head. "I must say, that was a surprisingly short battle."

"I wasn't surrendering," I said, trying not to smile. "I'm merely postponing the battle."

Snape scoffed. "Postponing the battle? For what reason may I ask?"

"To give me time to improve my tactics," I said seriously. "That's the advantage with superficial battles. You can call them to a halt at any moment to rethink strategies and plan new lines of attack. Best way to go about it, really."

Snape stared at me with the strangest expression I had ever seen him wear. For a moment I thought that he was about to tell me that I was completely mad. But then I realised that he was struggling not to laugh. I had never seen Snape laugh...so to have made him struggle not to laugh was an achievement, wasn't it?

A couple of seconds later though, Snape's face had returned to its usual indifferent look. He shook his head. "If only wizards could pause in the middle of a duel to rethink tactics, Armilla."

I smiled. At least I had lightened his mood.

"I look forward to the day you put your new line of attack into action," he quipped. "But for now, you know what time you are to be in bed."

"I know," I said, resigned to the fact.

"Have you already let Morag out for the evening?" asked Snape, sweeping his gaze around the room.

"Yes, I let her out about half an hour ago," I answered.

Snape opened his mouth to answer, but at that moment a huge black owl soared into the room. It landed on my bedside table with a loud screech and held out its leg to me.

"That's Father's writing," I said quietly, staring at the greyish envelope. Just seeing my Father's writing was enough to bring flashbacks of the night he hexed me after I was rude to Rougier.

Snape took out his wand and magically detached the letter, checking it for curses or any signs that it would be best left unopened. Finally, he pocketed his wand and held it out to me.

After a moment's hesitation, I took it, still staring at the envelope.

"Feel free to read it aloud," said Snape, sitting down on the bed.

Taking that as an order and not a request, I opened the letter and began to read.

Dear Armilla,

I hope this letter finds you well.

The house seems lonely since your departure and I spend my days begrudging Severus the time he spends with you. But life is not always kind to the very best of men, Armilla, and I take solace in knowing that though Severus keeps you from me, he could never feel the affection for you that I do, for the love between a father and daughter is one of the strongest bonds known to wizardkind.

I looked up at Snape to find him wearing a contemptuous expression. "Does Father take some sort of medication?" I asked.

"I'm beginning to think he does," he answered, sneering. "Or at least something that causes nonsensical rambling. Perhaps he had consumed a babbling beverage at the time he wrote it."

"He wouldn't write anything like that without wanting something," I said, rereading the supposedly sincere paragraph.

"Read on," said Snape, pinching the bridge of his nose.

I write simply to wish you luck in your studies this term at school. Study hard and remember everything you have learnt from your time here. I expect top marks in all your OWLS and you will feel my displeasure if you fail me.

I looked up at Snape in alarm, but he had closed his eyes.

"For Merlin's sake," he muttered.

Remember to associate in the right crowds and live up to your family name. I look forward to seeing you again, hopefully for an extended period of time.

Your loving father

I closed the letter, feeling sick. "What was the point of writing to me?" I said angrily. "He clearly had nothing to say."

"He wants to remind you that he still exists," said Snape.

I didn't voice the thought that entered my head in response to that.

"You think it's too horrible to say?" Snape whispered. "You're not the only one who wishes the man didn't exist."

I looked up at him, aghast that I should have such dark thoughts about my own father.

"In blood only," said Snape softly.

In blood only. Very true.

o o o o o o o o o o o

I had a great morning the next day at Flourish and Blotts. Snape was true to his word and bought me five new books. My love of Charms must have been obvious to him as three of the books I got were on improving and improvising charms. But Snape had managed to convince me that a certain Potions book he liked seemed worth the read. I had to admit that the book did look interesting and I allowed it to become one of the final five.

"Thankyou," I said, as we left the shop. Diagon Alley was swarming with Hogwarts students and their parents, all doing last minute shopping before school resumed on Monday. Snape kept sending off glares in all directions so his students would divert their eyes.

"No problem, as long as you read the Potions books first," said Snape indifferently, as we made our way towards the Apothecary so Snape could order some rare ingredients for the seventh year Advanced Potions class.

Just as we were about to enter the shop, a tall thin woman with fair hair tied in a bun at the nape of her neck came out. Madame Rougier. I stopped in surprise, and so did she, but Snape, having no idea who she was, made to move past her.

"Ah, it is you," she said coolly, looking me up and down. "Out in public with no make up on, I see. Very brave of you."

I glared at her, but didn't dare say anything rude in front of Snape. Snape however, had stopped short when Rougier had started speaking to me. He was looking at her as if she was a potential potion ingredient.

Rougier turned and looked Snape up and down. "You must be the brother," she said, extending her hand. "Severus, is it?"

"It is," he said coldly, shaking her hand once and letting go quickly. "And you must be...the governess. Rougier is it?"

"It is," she said, ignoring Snape's tone, which had seemed to imply that he thought she was a lower class citizen, perhaps a former street urchin.

"I cannot tell you how much it pleases me to meet you," Snape said, in a falsely polite tone. "My sister has told me so much about you."

"Has she?" said Rougier, glaring in my direction. "Tell me, Severus, how well do you know your sister?"

"An odd question," said Snape, raising an eyebrow. "I believe I know her quite well."

"Then you would know that her character requires a great deal of improvement," Rougier said abruptly.

Snape didn't even blink. "Indeed?"

Rougier seemed to take that as a sign that Snape was interested in my improvement. "Certainly. She requires a carefully designed and regimented program that will rid her of her unfortunate tendencies to be impertinent, disrespectful and unladylike. Considering that you have the greater influence since you are now raising her, you should perhaps review your discipline strategies."

"You think so?" he said, narrowing his eyes.

Rougier smiled up at Snape. "I hope you don't condone punishment?"

"Certainly not, I assure you," he answered, his black eyes glittering maliciously. "You seem to be an expert, Madame. What do you recommend for Armilla?"

"Well I tried simple things at first, Severus," she said, her voice getting higher. "Sitting and thinking. Timeout, you know."

Snape folded his arms, frowning. "I beg your pardon? Do excuse me, but she's not a four-year-old."

"Yes, I am aware of that," she said curtly. "And I found that it didn't improve her mind anyway. There is only one way to put this child in her place, Severus."

"And what would that be?" he said dryly.

"Physical punishment," she said promptly.

"Such as striking a child, especially one that doesn't belong to you?" he said dangerously.

Rougier looked disdainfully at him. "She doesn't belong to you, either."

"Oh I beg to differ," he said coldly.

"She is Aurelius Snape's child, not yours."

"Be that as it may, Rougier," he spat, "it is joint custody and I therefore have every right to take legal action against you for striking Armilla." He took a step closer to her. "But that would ruin your reputation, wouldn't it? The poor governess who can't find a job because she uses violence to keep rich pureblood children in line?" He shook his head. "Dear me, wouldn't The Daily Prophet love that?"

The colour drained from Rougier's face. "You wouldn't," she said. "You're bluffing. You wouldn't drag your family into such a scandal."

"Do you think I should let you off then, Rougier?" he said airily. "Perhaps I should. I had no idea that Armilla was such a handful for such an accomplished governess."

"She needs pulling into line," Rougier spat, pointing at me.

"As do you," Snape snarled. He moved even closer to her so that their faces were a few inches apart. "If you ever touch my sister again," he hissed, "if you ever insult her in any way...in fact, if you ever go near her again...your reputation as a governess will be the last thing you'll have to worry about. And don't think for a moment that I'm bluffing. You do know who I am." He fixed her with a vicious glare. "Do I make myself clear?"

Rougier stared back at him, looking like she'd just been hit by the Knight Bus. Finally she nodded. "Perfectly clear," she muttered.

Saying no more, Snape nodded curtly at her, grabbed my wrist and pulled me into the Apothecary.

My heart was thundering with excitement, though I didn't know if it was good or bad excitement. Snape certainly knew how to intimidate and threaten people.

"You're right," he said quietly in my ear. "She is a painted old hag."

o o o o o o o o o o o o o

"Professor Snape!" said Mrs Weasley, upon opening the door at Grimmauld Place. "We weren't expecting you here today." Her face became anxious. "Has something happened?"

"No," said Snape waving a hand aside. "I would like to come in though, Molly."

"Oh, yes, of course," she said, looking flustered as she stepped aside to allow us entry. "Armilla! How lovely to see you again, dear."

"I am here to see Potter," Snape announced, clearly showing that he had no time for niceties as we followed her to the kitchen.

"Harry?" said Mrs Weasley, looking worried, as we entered the kitchen. "Is something wrong?"

"Not at all," Snape answered, looking completely unconcerned.

There was a scraping noise as a chair was pushed back suddenly. Sirius Black stood up from his place at the table.

"Snape," he snarled.

"Black," said Snape, his lip curling.

"What's this about Harry then?" Black said, eyeing Snape with intense dislike.

"It's none of your concern, Black," said Snape coldly. "I am here at Dumbledore's request and I am to see Potter privately."

"I'm his godfather and I deserve to know," said Black loudly.

"How very touching," Snape sneered. He turned to Mrs Weasley, who was standing in the doorway. "Potter is upstairs?"

"Yes, I'll just get him," she said, turning to leave.

"If this is such a private matter, Snape, then why is your sister here?" Black said, glaring between the two of us.

"Because I wasn't about to leave a fifteen-year-old to roam the streets of London because you didn't wish her to be in your kitchen," Snape said acidly.

"Fair point, Snivellus," Black said lazily.

Snivellus? Well that was new.

Snape's eyes flashed. He looked over at me, his expression quite fearsome. "Armilla, go and wait in the hall. I won't be long."

I nodded and left as Snape seated himself at the table. I was kind of glad to be out of there; the tension in the kitchen was unbelievable.

I walked back up to the hall just as Harry came down the stairs, looking a little bit put off.

"Er, hi," he said tensely, when he saw me. "I take it you're here with Snape?"

"Yeah," I replied. "I'm just waiting for him. He said he wouldn't take long."

"Well, I'd better go and see what all this is about then," he said, looking wary. "I'll see you later."

"Bye."

The next few minutes passed by very slowly. There wasn't much to do in the empty hallway of a stranger's house.

There was a noise from upstairs and suddenly Mrs Weasley came rushing down the stairs, closely followed by Fred, George, Ron, Ginny and Hermione.

"Ah, you're waiting here for Professor Snape, dear?" said Mrs Weasley. "Well, Arthur's due right now. Back from St Mungos you see..."

"Armilla!" said Fred, shaking my hand. "How positively marvellous to see you!"

"How is bearing the name Snape treating you these days?" asked George.

"Fine," I said, grinning.

Fred looked shocked. "Really?"

"Yes," I said. "Really."

George shook his head. "If you say so."

I greeted Hermione, Ron and Ginny just as the door opened to admit Mr Weasley and his two eldest sons.

"Here I am!" he announced. "Cured!"

All the Weasleys and Hermione gathered round him to welcome him back. As a group, they gradually made their way down towards to kitchen. I stayed behind, obeying Snape's orders to stay in the hall. I didn't have to wait long. A couple of moments later, Snape emerged from the kitchen, looking foul tempered again.

"Come," he said shortly. "We're leaving."

Without a word, I followed him out of the house and into the street. We moved to an isolated, but hidden spot and Snape held out his hands so we could disapparate.

I placed my hands in his, wondering what had transpired down in the kitchen to make Snape so angry. I looked up at him, keeping my expression neutral.

"Don't even ask," he said curtly.