As The Falcon Hath Her Bells: Taking Flight

Chapter Nineteen

The next afternoon, Snape was carefully bottling the Veritaserum and labeling the bottles in his neat, precise hand.Janney intended to introduce the students to the dangers of Veritaserum after the holidays.He smiled a little sadly, pouring another bottle and carefully putting a stopper to it.The lessons since Voldemort's return had grown increasingly more practical, in preparation for the students to be in the thick of the battle, rather than the theoretical slant they had possessed before.

He was being pushed to teach fourth years complex Healing Potions now, whereas before he would have given them a simple Erasing Potion or the like.All the professors were being pushed, though, to arm the students with what they would need in just a few short years out in the world, taking less care than usual of how the students felt.He had Madame Pomfrey constantly after him to make Calming Concoctions, as her supply was perpetually low with students cracking under the stress of the load suddenly deposited upon them.These were dark times for Hogwarts, indeed.

He couldn't help but be concerned sometimes if those slender, childish shoulders weren't too frail for the burden forced upon them in these dismal times.In forcing them to grow so quickly, how would they affect the world in twenty years, perhaps?If we don't, he reminded himself grimly, in twenty years there will be no world for us to worry about.We all pay the price for our freedoms.In sweat, tears, and blood if need be.

He finished bottling the Veritaserum, just as there was a quiet knock on the door."Come in, Miss Granger," he said impatiently.She still persisted in that odd habit after three months of work.

The door creaked open, and the quiet swish of a student's robes penetrated the silence.He finally looked up and saw silver-blond hair rather than brown.Draco Malfoy.

He decided to play initially as though he did not know what the boy wanted to tell.Dare I tell him? he thought.If I'm wrong and this is a ruse to draw me in to gain information for the Death Eaters, if I reveal myself as a spy…It would cost both Hermione and himself their lives.

Wary blue eyes studied him as Draco sat across from him, looking for all the world like the contrite schoolboy he had never been.He was paler than usual, and his gaze started darting around nervously.

He smiled humorlessly as Draco cleared his throat and began in a wavering voice, "You should put me under Veritaserum, sir."Everybody knew not to trust a Slytherin.True: the use of Veritaserum was highly regulated.But he was sure Dumbledore would be able to defend it to the Ministry with the gain of a powerful ally, and to be quite frank, the rules had grown more lax in these times.

Wordlessly he handed young Draco a tiny crystal bottle.The boy drank it and settled back."It's now in effect," Snape told him calmly."You should be feeling a slight tingle right about now--ah, that was it?You do realize you won't be able to lie.Very well, Mister Malfoy.Please tell me what it is you wished to."

"Tw--two nights ago, sir, my father," he swallowed hard."You know that the Death Eaters meet at our house a lot."

"I was there twenty years ago," Snape observed dryly."Certainly."

"Then you know what sort of things they--do."Snape nodded, trying to soften his gaze a little so as not to frighten the boy right then."Avery and Father captured a Muggle girl earlier that day.He said they were going to have some fun with her that evening at the gathering."He looked distinctly ill, huddling down into his robes and shivering at the memory.Snape cast a surreptitious Warming Charm in the room.

"I--I thought that they'd play around a little, like they did with those Muggles at the Quidditch World Cup a few years back," Draco whispered."Father's never let me come near the meetings, of course.He said if I was caught there before I was of age, he'd let the Dark Lord deal with me himself."

Snape thought that Voldemort would be pleased with such youthful eagerness to join rather than to punish it, but refrained from saying so."But he told me to bring the girl down that night and take my first taste of the brotherhood."He swallowed hard, eyes now on his hands firmly clasped and in his lap."So I did.And Father told me to…to…"He looked up, a hell of torment in his eyes as they met Snape's."I raped that girl," he said, voice cracking and then fading."Because I'm weak.Father threatened me and I obeyed."He smiled humorlessly."The good, obedient son I've always been, of course."He closed his eyes for a moment.

"She was begging me not to, but I did.Then Avery took his turn.He killed her," he said softly."They used all three of the Unforgivables on her, sir.And I stood by and did nothing."He bit his lip, and Snape noticed it was still raw and scabbed from where he had bit it clean through two nights before.A fresh trickle flowed from the wound now, but Draco idly wiped at it, taking no notice of it beside that."Father came up to my room that night.I spent half an hour in the shower, trying to scrub it off of me.He said--" shoulders shuddering in a choked sob, "--that it would get easier with time.He was proud of me, Professor."

"Does sound very much like Lucius," he agreed quietly."So what do you propose to do?"

"I figured I should talk to you, sir," he said, getting the words out."I could hardly go to Headmaster Dumbledore and say, 'Hullo sir, I raped some Muggle girl and saw all three Unforgivables used.So how has your holiday been?'He wouldn't understand…"His voice trailed off as more frustrated and hurt sobs wracked his slender body.

"The Headmaster understands far better than you may think.He was the one I went to," Snape said, faintly uncomfortable with this.It was not in his nature to be comforting, but sarcasm was the worst thing right here.The best he could do was sit and hear the story out without judgment or interruption.He knew firsthand that anything halting blurting out the whole sordid mess could prevent its telling entirely."I was farther down that path than you, and he still saw something in me worth saving."

"Still, sir, I thought that it might be best to talk to you, since you've…been there."

Snape nodded."You did well to do that.Am I correct, then, in assuming you have come to tell me that you do not intend to join the Death Eaters come summer?"

A vehement shake of the head."No, no, no," Draco moaned, biting his lip again.Snape had noticed through the years that it was quite a habit with the boy."I'd die first, sir.I--I didn't know what they did.I thought they were out to get rid of Muggles and Mudbloods, and you know I was raised to believe that they were evil so much that I believed it.I didn't know they did," voice lowering to a near whisper, "things like that.I don't know if Muggles and Mudbloods are inferior or what now, but I wouldn't wish that on my worst enemy."

He was reminded of Hermione Granger's innocence in the matter as well and quietly sighed to himself.Again the burden was being thrust upon young and probably quite unready shoulders."Very well.The way that I see it, Mister Malfoy, is that you have two options at this juncture."

He held up two fingers and ticked the first off, looking past his hand to where Draco was listening intently, looking like a drowning man just thrown a lifeline."First, you could return and take the Mark.Use it as I did and spy for the forces of Light."

"I could maybe do that before, sir, but not now.I can't go back," Draco said earnestly, eyes wide."I can't pretend I'm enjoying that, or having to do it again.I'm no Gryffindor," he said with faint distaste, "to have the courage."He realized Draco was also referring to his complying with his father's wishes that night.

"No.You are Slytherin, and despite what others will tell you, there is pride to be had in it.Yes, a Slytherin will do what it takes to survive, even if it is distasteful.We are not ones for noble sacrifices as the Gryffindors are.But we survive to fight again and contribute more than a simple martyrdom."

"Still, sir, I can't act loyal.What's my second option?"

"Following the end of the school year, you will remain at Hogwarts," he said bluntly."Let me explain precisely what that means, as I have been living it for over two years now.You cannot leave the grounds except under the influence of Polyjuice Potion, and that' is effective for such a short time as to be nearly useless.If you take one step outside the wards, they will hunt you down and kill you.This is a marvelous, safe sanctuary, but a prison as well."

Draco smiled shakily."My father said, you know, that if anyone could come here and kill you, they'd be honored beyond their dreams.I thought of it," he admitted."Before I knew.But Father prevented me, saying that killing you would be my own suicide, and it would be a cell in Azkaban.I was too valuable to throw away like that."

Snape wasn't surprised."You will have to stay here until it ends," he said quietly."One way or another."

"I understand," Draco said, glancing at him."Perhaps I could learn to…teach or something of the sort?" he asked hopefully."So that I have something to do?Not to be ungrateful for the safety offered, but if I have nothing to do here year after year, I will go mad, and then I'm of positively no use."

"I'll consider it, but first you must get through this year.Now, you will have to act as though nothing has occurred.Until you finish here, your father could come here and remove you from the premises, and there's not a damned thing we could do to stop him.If he thinks anything amiss, you know that is precisely what he'll do.So I will need you to act your usual self."

Draco gave a self-deprecating laugh."One spoiled, self-centered Malfoy heir.Certainly: at least there are no holidays I need to spend at home between now and term's end, so I won't have to possibly go through it again."He looked at Snape."Thank you, sir," he said quietly.

Snape said nothing to the thanks, knowing any reply would embarrass them both."Mister Malfoy, please do be advised I will inform the Headmaster of your decision."There was a flash of fear and disgust in Draco's eyes, which he quickly moved to dispel."I will not, however, inform him of the circumstances.Those are strictly between yourself and I, as I am your Head of House."Draco nodded.

"Though I do believe perhaps you and I should chat more often," Snape suggested subtly."After all, it's very hard to keep my eye on all of the Slytherins when I'm trying to go through all those disgraceful exams from the Gryffindors."Draco realized that Snape had suggested he spy on his fellow Slytherins and gave a bit of a smirk."I do believe you shall be telling your friends that your Potions grade has taken a slide and that I demand remedial lessons."

"How's your schedule?"

"Thursday evenings?"

"That'll do, sir.I'll keep my eyes open, be assured."He hesitated a moment, but pressed on."Does it ever go away, sir?"

"Does what go away?"

"The urge to go throw yourself off the Astronomy Tower," Draco said flatly.

"It fades," Snape said honestly."But I can say after twenty years it has yet to die."

Draco gave a defeated sigh."I supposed not.Erm--I suppose I had best stay here until this Veritaserum wears off.Don't want Crabbe and Goyle asking me what I've been up to…"

Snape grinned to himself."You may go.That was a Wakefulness Potion, not Veritaserum."

"Sir?"He sounded confused.

"Mister Malfoy," he said, "if you had the courage to come and tell me all this and risk my calling out the Aurors to have you hauled to Azkaban, is it not the least I could do to trust that you would tell me the whole truth and nothing but?"

Draco looked positively shocked at the very Slytherin maneuver, and quite surprised at the trust.Slytherins were never trusted.I do know my Slytherins, he thought with equal parts pride and sadness.He remembered long ago, he had demanded to be dosed with Veritaserum for his confession to Dumbledore, sure that the old man would believe nothing he said otherwise.I am the only one who would dare to trust Slytherins.Whether it be my folly or not.

Young Malfoy left the dungeons, and Snape returned to his work on labeling the potions for the day, nodding in satisfaction.He could trust the boy.After the last bottle was done, he headed for Dumbledore's office, half-wondering if the nearly clairvoyant old man wouldn't know already.He had to admit to a small frisson of satisfaction.A blow had been struck to Voldemort, even if the Dark Lord didn't know it.Perhaps there were those among the students who were ready to find their weapons and fight.It remained only to find them, but he was certain that Hermione Granger and Draco Malfoy were in that group."Sassafras," he spoke the password, and went into Dumbledore's office to see the Headmaster beaming at him.

"Quite a splendid job, Severus," Dumbledore said cheerfully.Snape merely shook his head and wondered yet again how on Earth Dumbledore just knew these things.

Chapter Twenty

Christmas passed quietly at Hogwarts, with Hermione's parents sending her gifts from Milan, where they were taking their second honeymoon at Hermione's urging.Ron had given her a new wizard chess set, she returning the favor by giving him tickets to a Chudley Cannons game.Harry was still wrapped up in Marion Rhys, giddily in love, and practically ignoring both she and Ron.

Christmas Eve, after Draco Malfoy had gotten back, she had seen him sitting silently in his chair around the one table to house the few students remaining at Hogwarts.He said nothing, merely staring down at his food and eating with no obvious thought or pleasure, though the tiny Christmas feast was indeed a delight.

She of course said nothing to him or acted any differently from the disdain she had shown his former, arrogant self.She doubted he even knew that Snape had known what had happened, let alone know that she was also in on the secret.She wasn't about the let that be known; she could imagine the sarcastic tones of Snape saying that if she couldn't even hide that, how on Earth could ever be a successful spy in a world full of those who might be her enemy?

Something within her was repulsed by Draco's actions that night, but the other part of her pitied him.She too understood the rude slap of awakening to the ugly reality of the Death Eaters.Draco hadn't seen that trap until it was too late, and he was in the untenable position of compliance or a grisly death.That didn't excuse what he had done, of course.Nothing does, she thought sadly.She saw the face of the nameless girl from Briarwood Academy in her dreams.Though she had to admit that he was more use alive than dead.It was a cruel position to be in, but there was really no other stance that the Death Eaters took besides perversities and cruelties of the worst sort.

The rest of the table seemed to sense Draco's intense desire for silence and privacy, and thus for the most part overlooked him.All in all, it was a very awkward meal for Snape, herself and Draco, all three carrying the weight of heavy, loathsome secrets.

She was in the library now three days before New Year, determined to follow up on her idea that she should learn about the true man that Snape was.And to learn about that, she reasoned, I should start with him as a boy.She of course couldn't sidle into Headmaster Dumbledore's office and say casually, "So, sir, please tell me Severus Snape's life story.Omit nothing."She'd have to explain her sudden interest in Snape, which would precipitate explanation of the whole mess.She was in no mood for admitting the rather illegal things she had done to Dumbledore, especially with only six months until graduation.She didn't know if the kindly old wizard would expel her or not, but if Snape wasn't going to reveal her, she wouldn't take her chances.

She headed for a long, dusty shelf housing the massive bulk of a thousand years of Hogwarts history.Unfortunately, the end of the shelf she was at concerned the yearbooks of the tenth century, not the twentieth.She noted with interest passing the sixteenth century: within those volumes were the years at Hogwarts of the notorious witch and queen, Anne Boleyn, transferred from Beauxbatons her fourth year.No time for that right now, she chided herself.You can dwell on that later!

Finally she found them, knowing that Snape had been in the class of James Potter, graduating in June of 1978.Moving her fingertips back seven years gently over rich, leather-bound spines, she grasped hold of the 1971-1972 volume and sat down, back against the bookshelf, yearbook in her lap.

She turned directly to the pictures of the first years, and smiled a little to see James Potter giving her a wide, boyish grin and a wave, looking so much like Harry.Turning to the next page, she thought at first he wasn't there.

Then a form moved into the space labeled for one Severus A. Snape.He was a tall, skinny boy; face still childishly soft, with black eyes looking almost hopefully back at her.He self-consciously straightened his faded and patched robes, expression somewhere between a shy smile and a worried frown.Second-hand robes?We always thought he was rich, she thought.Rich and pure-blood, as all Slytherins are.She recalled with a shudder Lucius denouncing him as a Mudblood that night at the gathering.He had yet to explain it, and though she was dying of curiosity to hear about it, he had made it clear he didn't want to discuss it.

He gave her a shy wave, then grimaced and blushed in embarrassment at his obviously old robes.She turned the pages, seeing very little of him.The book was filled with images of people like Sirius Black, James Potter, and the lively crowd.She noticed pictures of a young Snape, and interestingly enough, a young Remus Lupin, lurking on the fringes.Those two are quite similar, she realized sadly.Loners, outcasts…the werewolf and the poor Muggle-born in Slytherin?No wonder he had no friends, especially since the other houses would have nothing to do with him as a Slytherin.She winced to acknowledge that truth.Professor Lupin just had a better crowd…what if?She shook her head.It was no use her pondering what might have been for Snape.

Carefully she flipped through the rest of that book, noticing Lucius Malfoy as a smug and arrogant third year and grimacing to herself.She reached for the next volume.In Snape's individual portrait, his robes were obviously new.Still, there was a sigh and a slump of the shoulders as the other portraits on the page were obviously engaged in conversation, while he sat alone.Glumly the portrait-Snape picked up a book and began reading, pretending not to notice.

He had made the Slytherin house Quidditch team his third year as a Beater, she discovered, seeing the reference beneath his very solitary and studious portrait.She turned to the section on Quidditch and saw a picture of the house teams first.James Potter had been a Gryffindor Chaser, while Sirius Black had been a Beater.She looked at the Slytherin team portrait and saw he looked full of pride in his silver-and-green uniform, blushing to the tips of his ears and dusting an imaginary speck of grime off his trousers.His hair was neatly bound back and he held his broomstick in hand, actually smiling.Until Lucius Malfoy, the team Seeker, smirked, leaned over, and whispered something to him.His face fell and he kicked at a clod of dirt on the ground, looking angry.Seeing a picture of the Gryffindor/Slytherin match that year, she noticed that beyond the fact that Snape and Black were hitting Bludgers towards each other with all their might, that Snape was quite good, actually.He never gives any indication.Only time I've ever seen him on a broomstick was the time he refereed in my first year.

The last few years produced such scenes as Black planting a Dungbomb in Snape's cauldron during a Potions picture, and the Potions teacher quietly chuckling at the puce-colored mess dripping all over an irate Snape in the fourth year.No wonder he doesn't tolerant hijinks in class.And there was a familiar, black-clad figure stalking out of the Yule Ball in the volume of his fifth year while happy couples danced on.She noticed a girl looking after his departure sadly.Flipping through the pages, she identified her as Aislinn Astolat, a Slytherin in his year.She gave a smile, tucking a stray wisp of russet hair behind her ear.She liked him, perhaps?

By his seventh year, he was outright scowling at the camera while its caption announced that he was attending Russia's Vladivostok University for the Magical Arts after having graduated with honors, and particular distinction in Defense Against the Dark Arts, Potions, and Transfiguration.The seventeen-year-old Snape pulled out his wand and hexed the picture so that an opaque fog covered it from view.She knew VUMA was distinguished for Potions in particular--it must have been where he picked up more of his skills.Perhaps also he had learned the labeling system of his jars there--was it Cyrillic?

She closed the book with a sigh, returning it and its fellows to the shelf, feeling like she hadn't learned very much, or at the very least, that what she had learned had produced twice as many questions as it answered.She hadn't come to this thinking that it seriously would be a fountain of all knowledge towards his past, but she somehow had hoped she might find something enlightening.

Still, she knew that he had been too poor to buy any better robes than used, at least his first year.Even in later pictures, though, his books looked battered and second-hand.Poor, Mudblood, and Slytherin: a very bad combination.He had been a Quidditch player of some skill, helping Slytherin to the Quidditch Cup his third, fifth, and sixth years.Lucius Malfoy apparently delighted in squashing whatever small joys Snape had found in his years at Hogwarts.One of his fellow Slytherins had apparently at least given a damn whether he lived or died--Aislinn.And Sirius Black had been cruel to him.

She remembered hearing him mock Snape in years past, while Ron and Harry laughed at it.Secretly she had thought such schoolboy tactics as calling Snape a "greasy git" were…well, schoolboy tactics, quite literally; not for a fully-grown man of nearly forty.Apparently his sense of humor had also run to picking on Snape for some reason, and to judge from the picture of the Potions class, he had been largely indulged in his pranks.Harry had told her about the teachers laughing in the Three Broomsticks in their third year about the pranks Black and James Potter had used to play.Oh, like the time he almost killed Snape at the Shrieking Shack?Didn't they see how Black hurt Snape, or were they too blind being proud of their noble and funny Gryffindors to notice one desperately lonely boy?She paused after the angry thought with the crashing realization, I'm sounding like a bitter Slytherin myself.

Truthfully, seeing Gryffindor from a slightly less biased view, she wasn't sure she was exactly proud to be one sometimes.Her attempted "Gryffindor courage" had almost killed herself and Snape, and the Gryffindors took more than a little pleasure in torturing Slytherins, more so than Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw.The two had always been intense rivals, but the Slytherins seemed to be the perpetual denizens of evil, while the Gryffindors who got their jollies off a Slytherin's humiliation were chuckled over and no more.Whose side are you on?

She didn't know any longer.Something in her had changed irrevocably since the year had begun.Of course she would still cheer her house to win the Quidditch Cup and the House Cup.She just didn't know if she could be proud of what Gryffindor stood for: thoughtlessness and recklessness, to her mind.Perhaps it's not too late, she thought, to save Malfoy…She suddenly had a greater sympathy with him, realizing that while there had been nothing like the magnitude of Sirius Black's torment of Snape, and that Malfoy was honestly a brat unlike Snape, she had never stopped to consider there was more to him than being the eager Malfoy heir.

She sighed and headed out of the library, having quite a lot to turn over in her mind at the moment.Childish dreams had now been tarnished, and a new, darker view of the world was opened to her eyes.She was indeed seeing quite a bit of the seamy underbelly of things this year.

Quietly she headed for the workroom to find some solace in the working on her potion, where there was none of the darkness to trouble her.Henbane was henbane, whether Severus Snape was a greasy git or a misunderstood loner.She turned thoughtfully to her notes, where she continued analyzing the properties of the anti-memory, barely aware of him at work on the Lionheart Potion.

These sessions had moved far beyond him merely supervising her work: that she found was particularly pleasant.Since the night at Malfoy Manor, he seemed to trust her even a little more, and sneered about her being a Gryffindor much less.Even when he did now, there wasn't much malice to it.Perhaps he was finally discovering she was more than a Gryffindor, as she was learning he was more than Slytherin.

She was close: she could feel it.As soon as she had it figured out, she could make a Solventus that would merely be a solvent for the anti-memory instead of reacting with it and diluting its power.It was just a laborious process testing for various properties and compounds in the anti-memory.

Snape had already told her that he wanted to work intensely with her tomorrow on focusing herself into her falcon body so that she was under enough control to lessen the risk of her reverting to her human self due to high emotion.It was a good idea to do that now, certainly, while almost nobody was at Hogwarts to catch him or her or notice them missing for the afternoon.

For now, though, there was the potion.Idly she added extract of hedgehog spine to a pinch of anti-memory.A memory reacted with the substance, but she noted no reaction here.So far, it seemed that everything that reacted with a Pensieved memory didn't react with the anti-memory, which was to be expected from an inversion.She just needed to discover what did react, so as not to use it in the new Solventus.Another month, perhaps, and she had the feeling she'd have it.

"You didn't tell Draco about…" she broke off.He turned from his cauldron, raising an eyebrow.

"No, Miss Granger.I hardly saw need, as he confessed himself without my having to prompt it with my knowledge.And he hardly needs to know at this juncture," he added with an air of finality.He nodded towards her mass of flasks and such for testing."How goes it?"

"I think so far that the best Solventus I've found thus far would be the Chimaera venom, but to use a solution with Fetch feather powder than powdered Grindylow bone as a buffer.The Grindylow bone powder's so powerful that it's easy to overdo it, and that's perhaps what diluted the strength last time," she said thoughtfully."The Fetch feather is finer and more laborious work, but much easier to get correct, in the end."

He nodded, idly brushing a lock of hair from his eyes."However, Fetch feather does negate the effects of squid ink," he pointed out, "and that is another vital component of Solventus."

She frowned, searching her memory.She had a book on hand listing the effects of Potions ingredients and what could be substituted for them, but she didn't want to turn to it right now.She wanted to show that she knew."Arctic seawater?"

"Perhaps," he said dismissively.He was never willing to simply say "Yes" when she questioned him in that manner, wanting her to find the answer for herself.He was still determined to not do the work for her, which she was grateful for.However, a "perhaps" was as good as a "yes".If it were a hare-brained idea, he'd have said so.She smiled in satisfaction, both at the correct answer and the fact that she had figured out his attitude in the laboratory quite well.

It truly had been a good idea to do this project.He had given her a high recommendation on her application to Lothlorien, as had all the teachers, but truthfully, his was the most meaningful.She knew she had worked especially hard to earn it.She'd almost miss these quiet sessions in years to come.Well, there was no time for that now.She turned back to the tests, mind fixed firmly again on Potions.