Armilla

Chapter 51

I certainly didn't lose sleep wondering if Snape had really thought his new book was amusing. After being absorbed in the book for about half an hour, stopping to quote one to me every now and then, I actually had to remind him that we were due to go and visit Mother for his birthday. And he had had the audacity to glare at me for interrupting!

Due to Umbridge catching me committing the abhorrent felony of trying to visit Snape earlier, I wanted to return to Ravenclaw Tower via the chocolate frog card and walk to Dumbledore's office from there.

"Certainly not," Snape scoffed, reluctantly putting his book aside. "That would show that I am prepared to allow that repugnant twit to rule my family life as well as my work life." He sneered down his hooked nose at me. "And I refuse to let that happen, for on a good day, Umbridge would have trouble outthinking a doorknob."

I looked back at him suspiciously. "How many more of those have you already memorised?"

"Not as many as I'd like," he replied, looking a bit put out as he put on his cloak. "And now I have to admit to Mother that I found something amusing." He scowled at me as he opened the door.

"It's my fault?" I said, feeling exasperated.

Snape gave a curt nod, but I could tell that he wasn't really angry. "Of course it's your fault," he said, smirking. "You had two options, one being that you would fail and I would win the bet against Mother, the other being that you would win and I would lose the bet." He folded his arms. "And you chose the latter."

"Well the other option would have been boring," I pointed out.

"How so?" he drawled, leaning against the doorframe.

"You always get to win," I said dryly as I moved passed him into the chilly corridor. "And you would have had nothing amusing."

"I see," he said quietly, as he moved to close the door and magically seal it. He turned to face me, frowning slightly. "So this way, you and Mother got to win?"

I shrugged. "I thought it worked out best for everybody this way. A triumph for Mother and I, and a good present for you."

Snape's lip curled slightly as we began to walk. "What have you done with Armilla?" he asked quietly. "I fear you're a Hufflepuff on Polyjuice Potion."

"Not at all," I said, glaring half-heartedly at him. "The Sorting Hat didn't even consider Hufflepuff."

Snape glanced down at me, his black eyes glittering curiously. "Did the Sorting Hat ever consider more than one House for you?"

I looked back at him, surprised. What did he mean by that? Did he think that I belonged elsewhere? In Slytherin perhaps? Did he think I had the potential to be dark too? He had certainly possessed the potential when he was my age and we did share the same blood. Was I in the right House? Had I somehow hoodwinked the hat into putting me into Ravenclaw? I couldn't imagine the other Ravenclaws having such dark thoughts about their fathers.

Snape stopped suddenly and fixed me with a stern gaze. "Armilla?" he said quietly.

I shook my head and kept walking, and after a moment Snape caught up with me, looking a bit displeased.

"The Hat didn't consider putting me anywhere else," I said honestly. "It decided on Ravenclaw as soon as I put it on."

Snape nodded, glancing at me through narrowed eyes, and we didn't exchange another word until we were in Dumbledore's office.

"Happy Birthday, Severus!" said Mother, beaming up at Snape. We had put the ring on a small table and had settled in chairs facing it. "Did you get some nice presents?"

Snape looked thoughtful. "Let's see...I got birthday foam on my coffee all day from the Headmaster, black socks with jingle bells on them from your wretched House Elf, a bunch of dangerous Potions ingredients in disguise as fruitcake from Lucius Malfoy-"

"Don't have them out near your sister," Mother interrupted, looking annoyed.

Snape rolled his eyes. "Too late Mother," he said sardonically. "I gave them to Armilla to experiment with as a reward for getting an O in Potions. She left them simmering in a cauldron to come up here to chat to you." Snape widened his eyes. "In fact, I expect the dungeons to blow up at any moment."

Mother narrowed her eyes. "That was unnecessary, Severus."

Snape glared at her. "Then don't lecture me on parenting."

Mother opened her mouth to retort, but seemed to decide against it. Her face softened slightly. "Jingle bells from Docky? How lovely."

I smiled too. Snape hadn't told me that.

"I think not," he said, folding his arms. "That House Elf has been dropped on his head too many times, Mother."

Mother shook her head. "Now," she said, turning to me. "Did you succeed, Armilla?"

"I did," I said, being careful not to look too pleased about it.

Mother glowed with pleasure. "Oh how wonderful!" she exclaimed, turning to face her son. "Do you need to tell me something Severus?"

Snape glared at her. "On this very rare occasion, you have won a bet, Mother," he drawled.

Mother beamed. "And what did you get, Severus?"

Snape had been looking a bit disgruntled, but as soon as the thought of his book came back to him, he seemed to find a renewed sense of contentment. "A book called Cutting Remarks: Dealing with Dunderheads," he said, smirking down at his mother. "It's a book of witty insults, Mother," he went on. "I've never received such a fine and practical gift." He peered down at her closely. "Shall I give you an example?"

Mother gazed back at him dubiously. "Indulge me," she said dryly.

"Alright," Snape replied, glancing briefly at me as he sat up straighter. "He is useless on top of the ground; he aught to be under it, inspiring the cabbages." He gave a small smile, clearly savouring the pleasure from such moving words.

Mother pursed her lips as she turned to me. "Armilla," she said in a hard voice. "If I was able to, I would confiscate that book from your brother and then punish you for giving him such a present."

Well! She had said to get something amusing, hadn't she? Amusing for Snape. That was a pretty tall order in my opinion.

"That's not very nice, Mother," said Snape, pretending to look affronted. "I thought it was a thoughtful gift."

Mother glared at him. "She's encouraging you to be nasty, Severus. You don't need help."

Snape looked pleased. "Thankyou," he said graciously.

"That wasn't a compliment!" Mother said indignantly.

"Well, I took it as one," he replied, looking bored. "Calm down, Mother. I turned thirty-six today...you'd think I'd know the difference between a book that's sold purely for amusement and one that's used for trouble?"

Mother sighed, still glaring at him. "I suppose. Just make sure you remember that. So how does it feel to be thirty-six?"

"I'll get back to you," Snape muttered.

Mother shook her head at him. "The way things are at the moment, Severus, I wouldn't be surprised if I am still here when you turn forty." She gave a hollow laugh. "That's not far away, you know."

Snape narrowed his eyes. "Indeed, Mother," he said sarcastically, "my greatest fear in life is without a doubt, turning forty."

Mother smiled. "Well, I'll probably still be here to see it."

Snape raised an eyebrow. "You think so, do you?"

Mother nodded, looking grave. "Your father will probably cause further suffering amongst those who have the misfortune of knowing him by living for a very long time."

I hope he doesn't. I shifted suddenly, uncomfortable that the thought had so readily come into my head. I wanted my father gone...I wanted my father dead. I was a horrible person. Mother wanted him gone too, as did Snape. That settled it...we all had dark thoughts about the man...we all envisioned him dying earlier than he needed to just to give us peace. I really did come from a dark family. We were all dark.

"Terribly irritating, isn't it?" Snape agreed, leaning forward. "I had hoped to be rid of the old sod by now."

"Let us pray that his reign of terror will draw to a well deserved early close then," said Mother, scowling slightly.

"That is the hope," said Snape quietly.

I said nothing. I wanted the man gone too...I just couldn't say it out loud. The other students were right. I was dark. Here we were...my family was gathered together, wishing death upon another family member. My father's death didn't seem like a horrible thing to me. The idea that I had no qualms about my father's death was horrible. How could I be such an awful person?

Was I just as bad as those who caused pain on those they disliked for pleasure? I wanted my father to feel pain. I wanted him to suffer. I wanted to inflict upon him all the suffering he had put me through. I wanted him to pay for making my brother's childhood and much of his adulthood a misery. And I wanted him to endure all the emotional and physical pain my mother had been put through....I wanted to cause the man unbearable pain...

"It'll be lovely, though," said Mother, closing her eyes. "Just to know that neither of you will have to suffer at his hands."

"It's not so much me these days," said Snape, glancing at me. "It's Armilla who has to put up with him."

Mother opened her eyes and peered up at me. "And I'm sure you wish nothing more than to be rid of him so that it's just you and Severus, dear?"

I opened my mouth to respond, but closed it again quickly. I wanted nothing more than to be rid of the man, but saying so in such a casual manner would be admitting that I was just as dark. I gave a small nod, feeling horrified just the same.

I could feel Snape staring at me, but I couldn't bring myself to meet his gaze. I looked down at Mother instead.

"It's a shame that as soon as I'm content with your happiness, Armilla, I will go away," said Mother, looking back at me. "I won't get to share your happiness with you."

"No..." I said distractedly, as Snape shifted slightly, still watching me. I looked over at him and met his gaze briefly before looking at Mother again. His expression was unfathomable, but something had stirred in those dark eyes.

I didn't want him to know what I was feeling. I knew I had promised to be honest with him and tell him all my worries, but this was different. Like the DA meetings, this was something I had to keep to myself. Snape couldn't know. Mother couldn't know...she had been a Ravenclaw with dark thoughts too. And neither of them was worried. I couldn't tell them how horrified I was about having a death wish for Father...they had suffered more at Father's hands than I had.

"But on the bright side," Mother went on, smiling again, "you'll have Severus and we all know how cheery he is at every minute of the day. Isn't that so, Severus?"

Snape's lip curled. "You know me so well, Mother," he said dryly.

We stayed in Dumbledore's office until about a quarter past nine before Snape announced that it was time to go.

He didn't say anything to me the whole way back to the dungeons, and I generally took that to mean whatever he had to say should be heard in a magically sealed area. However, when we were back in the sitting room, he just told me to get ready for bed and then disappeared into his office. Maybe he just didn't have much to say after all.

I changed and got into bed just as a snowy owl very much like Morag soared into the room. I recognised the owl at once. It was Judith, and she belonged to Merle's old friend, Matilda. Morag hooted in delight, excited to have a visitor.

After casting charms to detect dangerous mail, I untied the envelope attached to the owl's leg, wondering why Matilda would be writing to me. I had grown up seeing Matilda often, seeing as she had been Merle's best friend. But I hadn't heard from her as often since Merle had died. Matilda had been devastated over Merle's death and had been with me on the day Merle died. I had informed her about my new family arrangements, and though she had expressed delight, her letters had always held some anxiety underneath. But then, many people had reacted that way.

Judith flew a couple of laps around the room before joining Morag at her water tray. Morag flapped her wings in welcome and Judith hooted at her merrily. Finally, Morag had made another friend.

I opened the envelope and pulled out a small piece of parchment.

Dear Armilla,

Thankyou for your lovely Christmas gift.

I do hope you had an enjoyable Christmas with your brother, even though I know you are missing Merle. I miss her terribly and I know the feeling would be tenfold for you. But we must content ourselves with the thought that she is no longer suffering.

I hope you are studying hard for your OWLs - but I suppose (knowing you as I do) that is an understatement. I can only help you if you ever need help on the Goblin riots of 1302-09 - truly fascinating history!

I have enclosed a copy of a photo I found recently. I thought you might like to have a copy because I don't think Merle had one.

Love and best wishes,

Matilda

Curious, I shook the envelope and a photo fell out. The back of it was facing me and it had writing on it.

Merle, Rohan, Armilla and Matilda. Rohan and Liesl's wedding day, 17/06/84

I smiled. Rohan was the godson of both Merle and Matilda, and he had always been fussed over by his two godmothers. He was the son of another school friend, Hilary, who had died when Rohan was two, and Merle and Matilda had become mother figures to him. Rohan was twenty-one years older than I, but I had loved him when I was little. He used to come over all the time and we would play games in Merle's backyard. Even back then, Merle was getting too old to run around in the backyard. I had been flower girl at Rohan's wedding when I was four, but after he had married I didn't see him nearly as often. He now had children of his own, all of whom were too young to be at Hogwarts.

I flipped the photo over. Merle and Matilda were standing at either end, both looking immensely proud, while Rohan was holding me in his arms in the middle. He was wearing black and burgundy dress robes, smiling shyly at the camera and then down at me. I was wearing a white flower girl's dress with a burgundy sash, holding a tiny bouquet of roses. I was trying my best to divert my eyes from the camera, looking between Rohan and Merle instead.

I smiled down at the photo, reliving the day Rohan had paid me a galleon for walking down the aisle ahead of the bride. I had been too shy to do it initially, and I had only done it when, at the other end of the aisle, Rohan had taken a galleon out of his pocket and held it out to lure me. I had moved at once and everyone in the church had laughed as I had taken the galleon from Rohan as soon as I had finished my walk. I still had that galleon.

I was surprised that the photo didn't make me sad. Merle was in it, and it was a happy memory, but I could look at it without feeling a huge sense of loss. That was a big step.

"It's nine forty-two, a bit late to be having a guest, I think," said a deep voice from the doorway. I looked up to see Snape standing in the doorway.

Morag hooted at him softly, clearly excited to show Snape that she had a new friend.

"Give her time," he said dryly, sneering at my owl. "She hasn't gotten to know you yet."

Morag turned around, apparently intent to ignore him. At least she had given up on the incessant hooting.

"So, is that owl your excuse for still being up?" Snape asked as he strode into the room.

I nodded. "She's Matilda's owl."

Snape nodded briefly as he picked up the photo off my bed. He stared at it for some time, his face inscrutable. Finally, he flipped it over and read the words on the back.

"You haven't changed much," he said dryly, flipping the photo around to view the picture again. "Gotten a tiny bit taller maybe..."

I glared at him. "I'm not short."

Snape smirked, still looking at the photo. "Of course not. Not compared to the third years anyway."

"I still might grow," I said glumly.

Snape kept smirking. "Yes, it's nice to dream."

I glared at him again, but he ignored me. "Who is Rohan?" he asked. I suspected that even though I hadn't known Snape in 1984, he was still wary about another man holding his sister in the photo.

"Merle and Matilda's godson," I answered.

"He looks familiar," said Snape, frowning at the photo. "I think he was in the year above me...I'm not sure what House...I know it wasn't Slytherin."

"Oh," I said. I knew what house Rohan had been in...

"Do you know what House he was in?" Snape asked.

"Yes," I said, nodding, choosing to say nothing more.

Snape glared at me. "Well?"

"Gryffindor," I said simply.

Snape narrowed his eyes as he looked back at the photo, his lips pursed. He seemed to be struggling to accept that a Gryffindor from his own school days was holding his sister. I would have laughed if Snape hadn't looked so serious.

"Do you still communicate with him?" he asked curtly.

"Not often," I replied. "I received a Christmas card from him and I saw him at Merle's funeral...he has his own family now."

Snape nodded as he handed the photo back to me.

"Is there anything you would like to talk about?" he asked, folding his arms.

"No," I answered, feeling puzzled. Was Snape going to go on about Rohan being a Gryffindor?

"You're sure about that?" he said, raising an eyebrow. "I've had the impression that something was on your mind."

Ah...the whole being dark subject. Well, I certainly wasn't about to discuss that with him. He would think that I was being all Hufflepuff about it. I couldn't tell Snape, a former Death Eater, that the thought of taking pleasure in my father's torture and death horrified me.

"No," I said, looking him in the eye. "There's nothing I'd like to talk about."

Snape frowned. "Careful choice of words," he said quietly. "Alright, you're playing it that way. Is there anything you need or probably should talk to me about?"

I hated keeping things from him. I had promised to tell him things. He was going to think that I was having troubles confiding in him again. But I just couldn't tell him. It would all lead back to the DA anyway, and I couldn't give that away. Even if I somehow avoided mentioning the students thinking I was dark, I couldn't tell him.

I shook my head. "No. Nothing," I said, quietly, as I put the photo and Matilda's letter on my bedside table.

Snape stared at me for a moment. If he was irritated, angry or...hurt, he didn't show it. He merely nodded and moved towards the door, pulling out his wand as he went.

"Goodnight," he said softly, as he spelled out the lights.

"Goodnight," I answered, feeling worse than before.

Snape closed the door softly behind him and I heard him move down the hallway back to the sitting room.

I rolled onto my side, feeling sick. I had offended him. He must have thought that I was being distant with him. I could handle other people being upset with me, but not Snape. My heart was beating a lot faster than it should have been for someone trying to go to sleep. I had hurt Snape...on his birthday...

I got out of bed and moved towards the door. Maybe it was better if I did tell him my worries about being dark. I could avoid mentioning the DA.

He wouldn't understand. He'll think you're being weak. He'll think you don't really want Father dead. That wouldn't be very nice, considering what Father put him through. The voice in my head made me stop suddenly. No, I couldn't tell him. I simply couldn't. Maybe over time, the students would get over the new rumour and think I was okay like them. Then I could get away without ever having to burden Snape about my thoughts. I would just have to bury my dark thoughts about my father and pretend I didn't have them. That would have to do.

I turned around and got back into bed. My heart was still beating fast, but I was resolved to keep this secret from Snape.

It was better for both of us that he didn't know.