Mask of Oblivion

MASK OF OBLIVION

Chapter 9 - Merry Christmas?

Simon felt like the fast train that his life had been on for the last four months had suddenly turned into a giant roller coaster. Because it was the Christmas break the teachers had been free to spend a lot of time in the room working on the project. They examined the Rite in the book, and hauled up piles of Snape's original notes from some archival storage. Copying out potion recipes, making shopping lists, planning the exact timing required to ensure everything was ready at exactly the right time, endlessly discussing the organization of who was to do what and when. Hours and hours of planning for the event that would irrevocably change Simon's life.

Now that the method had been found Simon was starting to get extremely apprehensive. He tried to reason with himself that Severus Snape had been through major traumas before, but because he did not remember those experiences it did not help ease his fears. They gave him a copy to read through himself so he would know what was going to happen, but it all looked like mumbo-jumbo to him.

It was Christmas Eve. The other team members had all left to prepare for Christmas and Simon and Hermione had retreated to the living room. When they were finished eating supper he sat back and looked at her. "What evidence do we have that the Rite will work?"

Hermione looked at him very thoughtfully. "Theoretically the principle is very sound. But this 'Rite of Seeking' has not been performed in over five hundred years and the evidence of success is based totally on the research that Severus Snape did."

"He was confident that it would work?"

Hermione gave him a crooked grin. "If he had not been confident he would never have obliterated himself. He was no fool."

"I am not so sure of that, you know." He paused for a moment. "Everything is going to change, isn't it?"

"Well, of course. Provided that everything goes to plan you will have all your memories - including your life as Severus Snape and your present life as Simon. That is a pretty big change."

"That is not exactly what I meant." He stood up and walked away towards the window. It was dark outside and the only things that could be seen were a few snowflakes reflecting the light from the room. "If everything goes to plan then you will have completed your task and will be free to walk away."

"I can't just walk away from you," she said softly as she moved across to stand next to him.

He turned and looked down into her eyes, uncertain how to interpret what he saw there. Could he believe the message she seemed to be sending?

She lifted her hand towards his face and ever so gently stroked his ear, down along his jaw line to his lips. Her soft touch sent shivers down his spine. He put his arms around her and started to run his fingers up and down her back. She ran her hands down his arms and, holding both his hands in hers, led him to the bedroom.

The morning sunlight was muted by the frost on the window. Despite the roaring fire, the air in the bedroom was chilly. Simon watched intently as Hermione sat up in the bed and stretched. "Do you have to go?" He knew he must sound like a whining school boy, but he couldn't help it.

"Sorry, it's a command appearance. Molly Weasley has forgiven me for not marrying Ron, but I have no intention of getting in her bad books again by not turning up for Christmas lunch."

"You could tell her it was work."

Hermione smiled, shook her head and walked away across the room, still naked. Short and compact, like a pocket Venus, Simon mused to himself, as he admired the view.

"Just wait there. I will be back in a few minutes."

By the time Hermione returned fully clothed, Simon had retrieved the small parcel from his chest of drawers. She was carrying a parcel that looked just as small. "Merry Christmas," she said giving him a quick firm kiss and handing him the parcel.

"Merry Christmas, Hermione." She seemed genuinely surprised and grateful that he had a present for her.

"How did you manage this?"

"Ginny Black helped. It is nice to know that even witches and wizards use mail order catalogues."

Hermione opened the jewel box. On seeing the dark amber pendant on its golden chain she kissed him again. "You shouldn't have."

"Why not? The colour reminds me of your beautiful eyes."

Simon then opened the wrappings of his package to reveal a small silver snake with two small emeralds for eyes about the length and thickness of a fountain pen. "Thank you, it's beautiful. What is it?" Hermione took it from his hands.

"Turn around." She pulled his hair back into a ponytail, as he normally wore it and held the silver snake against his hair. The snake wrapped itself around the ponytail and entwined around itself to stay in place. Simon was amazed.

After she left Simon had a very quiet Christmas Day. He saw no other person until after night had fallen when there was a knock at the door. Neville and Anna entered carrying a gift wrapped bottle of whiskey. "We thought you might enjoy some company for supper tonight," Neville explained.

Simon realised he was quite grateful for the company of the young couple and supper was a very congenial affair. Afterwards, as they sat together enjoying the Christmas whiskey, Neville asked, "Simon, are you considering coming back to the Potions teaching job here at Hogwarts?"

Simon was stunned by the question. It was totally unexpected. "I have not given it much thought. At this stage I can't imagine being capable of doing the job." He looked at Anna. "That is your job isn't it?"

Anna and Neville exchanged a quick glance. "Yes, Simon, it is at the moment, but there is another teaching position coming available for next year which I would much rather fill."

Neville tenderly took hold of one of his wife's hands. "The thing is, Simon, after Severus Snape disappeared we had five years of truly awful and incompetent potions teachers, one after another. Until they realized there was a seventh year Ravenclaw who knew more about potions than the teacher." He smiled at Anna. "So at the end of that year they offered her the position and she is still here." He turned to Simon with an earnest, almost pleading expression on his face. "But it means that unless Severus Snape returns Minerva won't let Anna move to any other subject."

"Which subject do you want to teach?" Simon asked curiously.

"Herbology," said Anna. "Professor Sprout wants to retire. She has been here for fifty years and wants to have some time to do her own thing before she is too old to do it."

"So," said Neville, "when you get your memory back and if you agree to return to your rightful place here, then Anna will be free to make the change."

"And Professor Sprout will be able to retire," added Anna. "Herbology is a passion that Neville and I share." She turned and smiled at her husband. The look of adoration was clearly reflected back from Neville's face.

Simon looked at the young couple in front of him, obviously so much in love with each other and felt a great sadness. True romantic love did exist for some people, but he did not remember what that was like and had never experienced it in that part of his life he could remember.

"Depending on how things go," he said, directing their attention back to his presence, "I will certainly consider it."

"Thank you Simon. We really appreciate this." Anna gave him a big hug and Neville shook his hand as they took their leave for the evening.

"Don't thank me yet," said Simon.

Hermione was already at the breakfast table when he emerged from his bedroom in the morning. "Did you have a lovely day yesterday?" he asked as they ate breakfast together.

"Sort of. It was a typical Weasley Christmas. Totally chaotic." She smiled at him. "I suppose you had a rather quiet day?"

"Mostly. Neville and Anna joined me for supper." Simon took his coffee cup and headed towards the window. "It seems to have stopped snowing."

"You spend half your time looking out of those windows."

"It is the closest I can get to the outside world." He did not turn away from the window, but continued, "Even that is still part of Hogwarts. Not the real outside world."

As it was Boxing Day morning, Simon did not expect to see anyone in the courtyard. Suddenly a man moved into his line of vision from the left. "What the ....?" There was something very strange about this man. He was dressed like a Muggle. Since Simon had been at Hogwarts he had seen no-one else beside himself wearing Muggle clothes. He knew Hermione had ordinary clothes back in London, but she had chosen to dress in witches robes the whole time they had been here. In addition, the coat the man was wearing was very distinctive, a stockman's coat. He would stand out in Muggle London. "He looks like he stepped out of a movie about Australian bushrangers dressed like that," thought Simon to himself.

"What's wrong?" said Hermione.

Simon did not answer immediately but continued to examine the man below as closely as he could given the distance. He had bushy black hair coming well below his collar and a big black beard to match, which only added to the bushranger effect. When he reached the middle of the courtyard, he stopped and looked around at the buildings. Even from this distance Simon could feel an aura of confidence and power radiating from him. Then he looked up directly in Simon's direction. Simon had been told that there was a charm on the windows so that no-one could see in, but he felt as though the man was looking him straight in the eye.

Hermione had come up beside him. "Oh!" she said and he could feel her stiffen up. The man then looked away and resumed crossing the courtyard until he disappeared from sight.

"Who was that?" Simon asked.

Hermione had started to walk away. She stopped and turned. "Harry," she said in a flat toneless voice.

"Harry? As in Harry Potter, The Boy Who Lived and Helped Defeat Voldemort?"

"Yes, that Harry," she said irritably, "what other Harry would it be?"

"Well, I don't know. I am a bit new around here." Simon was a bit perplexed by her negative reaction. "From what I have been learning, weren't you one of his closest friends?"

"We were school friends."

"But you are not friends now?"

"No."

Why?"

Hermione's face was slightly flushed and she looked like she was about to yell or cry. She did neither. "It is none of your business. I have to go see Anna now. Bye." She rushed out of the door before he could pursue the subject further.

Simon tried to raise the subject of Harry Potter again several times over the next few days with no success. Hermione refused to discuss it and would either change the subject or leave the room.

Simon's normal Hogwarts routine resumed the next day, but there were a couple of special meetings. The first one was with Minerva McGonagall who confirmed that if he wished after his memory returned, the Potions job and the position of Slytherin Head of House were on offer. "Professor Sinistra has made a reasonable job as Head of Slytherin," Minerva explained, "but it is difficult for her given her schedule and I know she would be glad to be relieved of that responsibility." Simon promised that he would consider the offer.

The second meeting was with Bill Weasley. Before they sat down Bill applied what he said was a locking charm to the door. Simon found this a little surprising as the only people who had access to the room were the project team anyway.

"Simon, I believe Minerva spoke to you yesterday. About returning to your old job here at Hogwarts."

Simon shook his head. "It is not my old job. It is Severus Snape's old job. I can't really grasp the reality of being able to step into his shoes."

"It is not stepping into his shoes; it is stepping back into them." Bill leaned back in his chair and smiled reassuringly at him. "As you have been told, Severus Snape's work was not wholly confined to teaching."

"He was a spy, wasn't he? You surely don't expect me to do that?"

"Of course not. Snape would no longer be useful as a spy, now that his cover was blown and Voldemort defeated. But as well as spying he researched and developed potions and antidotes."

"Surely the Ministry has researchers who do that sort of thing?"

Bill shook his head. "We have a small research team, but no specialists. Recently our need for experts, particularly in potions, has grown."

"Why?"

"After Voldemort's final defeat there was a bit of a power vacuum on the Dark Arts side of things. We were very successful in catching the more powerful of Voldemort's supporters, the ones most likely to fill that vacuum." Bill paused for a moment and studied Simon's face. Simon was unsure why. "Thankfully things were quiet for a while. A few wannabe Dark Lords. All very easy to deal with and no real threat. Then we started to see a new pattern developing in Dark Arts activity. We had been aware of a growing new movement - The Omega Cult. It started about ten years ago somewhere in the Americas, but four years ago it spread to Britain and Europe."

"A new Dark Lord?" Asked Simon as a thrill of fascination went up his spine.

"We believe so, although pinning down the leader of this new movement has proved very difficult. He seems to be very elusive. It may be that there is actually more than one. We don't know. This is the first serious threat since Voldemort. In some of this group's activities we have found evidence of modifications to potions and alternative uses for known potions, some with spectacularly nasty results."

"Such as?"

"Mind control, hallucination, self destruction, suicide attacks. All pretty nasty stuff. So you can see why the Ministry was keen to try regaining Snape's expertise."

Simon smiled grimly. "Grasping at straws."

"A little bit." Bill shrugged. "I would call it taking a calculated risk."

"If you are trying to enlist the aid of people who were involved against Voldemort, what about Harry Potter?"

The look on Bill's face at the mention of that name was kind of rueful. "I would like to. He is very powerful and has a track record. But unfortunately, he is one of our main suspects."

"So, you think the Boy Hero has gone bad?"

"We don't know. He is a powerful wizard and we can't risk asking him to help and letting him know what we know, only to find out he is involved."

Simon thought this was a good a time as any to get an answer to the question that had plagued him since Boxing Day. "Potter and Hermione were good friends at school. Now she won't even talk about him. What happened?"

A shadow passed across Bill's face. "Yes, the three of them - Harry, Hermione and my brother Ron - were very close. Then, the day after his eighteenth birthday, Harry left England without any prior warning and they didn't hear from him for ten years. He returned to Britain about the same time as The Omega Cult appeared here."

"That does seem a bit of a coincidence."

"Exactly, that is one of the reasons he is on the suspect list. So Simon, will you work with us again?"

"Once the Rite is over and if it is successful, I will consider it."

Bill stood up and shook his hand. "Thank you Simon. At this stage that is all I can ask for."

After he had left Simon realised he still did not know the full reason for Hermione's anger towards Harry Potter.

It was the night before the new moon. Simon expected that he should feel apprehensive, but found to his surprise that the closer it got to the big day the less he felt of anything. It was as if the enormity of what was to happen was too big for his mind to handle so it just wasn't registering. He was sitting at the dining table, reading once more the details of what would happen, when Hermione returned from making final preparations. She put her arms around his shoulders and rested her chin on his head.

"Are you scared, Simon?" she asked.

"No, not for myself. Logically I should be, but I am not." He turned around and pulled her down into his lap. "I am more worried about you. This strikes me as a dangerous thing to do. Why does it have to be you?"

She sighed. "I thought we explained this. The seeker needs to be known to both the lost memories and current memories. Snape knew Sirius and Minerva better than me, but you don't really know Minerva and it is probably apparent that Sirius and Snape never really got along very well."

"I would never have guessed that," replied Simon dryly, "He seems determined to dislike me regardless. Just because I was Severus Snape."

"It is not just that," said Hermione, "Sirius is very protective of those he cares about and I don't think he approves of how close you and I have become."

"Well it is none of his damn business!" Simon's arms instinctively tightened around the warm body in his arms. "What happens between you and I is nobody's business but ours."

"I know," she said and kissed him. A hungry searching kiss, as if she was trying to find another way inside his mind to the phantom trapped within. Maybe she was? Simon did not really care. Their open mouths melded together and the chemistry that was there ignited into a raging fire.

As her lips slid off his and started to move to his jaws, his throat his shoulders, his ears, Simon somehow stood up and swept Hermione up in his arms. In a few short steps they were in the bedroom. They fell on the bed together and their hands and lips continued to explore the sensitive trails that they had blazed across each other.

Each touch of lip, of hand, of soft female flesh on his, drove his desire higher and higher. This searing crescendo of passion could not be normal. Could it? He gave up trying to comprehend it and gave in once again to the need to be as close as he possibly could. To feel her around him, to feel himself deep within her, riding wave after wave of pure ecstasy.

When it was over and his passion was spent his last conscious thought as he drifted off to sleep was the nagging worry that this could be the last time.