Wizard's House

WIZARD'S HOUSE - 2

There was a sharp crack! sound, like the branch of a tree breaking in a high wind, and a man in a brown cloak over dark trousers and a light shirt appeared out of nowhere to stand on the banks of the turgid river. Night laid a softening veil over the scene, giving the rank weeds and occasional pieces of trash a gentle mystery which they did not possess in daylight. Even the bleak forms of the dilapidated brick buildings nearby had a certain formal stateliness.

The newcomer walked rapidly up the sloping river bank to a rusted railing, climbed through a gap, and hurried along the street beyond, moving briskly through the pools of light formed by the few unbroken street lamps. He turned onto several similar streets, one after another, and finally came to a shabby two-story house, which sat in a weedy garden at the terminus of Spinner's End.

The visitor glanced at a small front window, where a dim gleam of light glowed through a gap in the curtains, and then hurried up the cracked cement walkway and rapped lightly at the door.

A moment later it opened a slit, showing a black-clad, sallow-faced man with lank dark hair, who stood just inside. The two men looked at each other for a moment, then the door closed, there was the rattle of a chain, and the door opened again. The visitor passed inside.

It was a dingy room, small and poorly lit, with only the candles in a hanging lantern and a small fire on the hearth to provide light. There was an old couch, a threadbare armchair, and a rickety little table that had seen better days. The rest of the room was bare.

"I'm surprised that you're still here," Remus Lupin said, unfastening his cloak and tossing it over the arm of the tattered couch.

"If you had come an hour later, I would not be," Severus Snape said, putting the chain up on the door again.

He flicked the tip of the wand he was holding toward a section of empty wall shelves, which opened silently onto a dark room beyond. Another flick and a tall stemmed goblet with a bowl like an iridescent soap bubble sailed through the air and landed on the rickety table that stood next to the battered old armchair. He picked up a dusty bottle from the table, topped off his own half-empty goblet, and poured a second glass of wine which he handed to Lupin.

"The last bottle from my cellar," he said. "And the last two goblets. Everything else is packed and gone. I waited, because I thought, somehow, that you might come tonight."

"Thank you for waiting," Lupin said, sitting down on the dilapidated couch and taking a sip. "Excellent vintage. Is Wormtail... ?"

"Gone," Snape said, sitting down in his old armchair and tilting his head back so that his somber black eyes stared at the ceiling. "I told him that it was only a matter of hours before the Aurors arrived, and he was so frantic to leave that he hardly bothered to say goodbye."

"Not much loss," Lupin observed.

"No. I should get some kind of award for not crushing that miserable little insect during the year I've been forced to put up with him."

"Do you know where he went?"

"No, nor do I care."

"But he might be a danger."

"To me? Hardly. He does not know my plans, and there is no longer anything about me that he can betray. If he's gone to the Dark Lord, he may wish he hadn't. Voldemort has even less tolerance for fools than I do, and having given Wormtail that silver hand, he undoubtedly feels that all of his debts are canceled."

"Perhaps so, that doesn't make Wormtail any more bearable."

Snape lowered his head and eyed Lupin appraisingly. "You're looking better than when I saw you last."

"Tonks has been taking me in hand," Lupin said, a bit awkwardly.

"Are you going to marry her."

"I intend to, but I'm worried that she doesn't really know what she's doing." His lips twisted wryly. "I'm not the ideal husband, not by any stretch of the imagination, and she's very young."

Snape waved a dismissive hand. "In forty years it will hardly matter. Take what you are offered, Remus. You've waited long enough for it. Grab a bit of happiness while you can."

"I feel guilty, I suppose. Your life... "

"Has been what I chose to make of it. If I come through this alive, which is doubtful, perhaps I can salvage a bit of happiness out of the chaos. A few days ago something happened that... well, it's only a faint candle in the dark, but it gives me something to cling to it, irrational though that is."

Both men were silent for a while. Lupin, sipping the rich dark port, looked around the shadowy room. The candles had burned low, and the flickering flames of the fireplace were now reduced almost to coals. The room was lined with empty bookshelves, and a door which opened onto the second floor stairway stood negligently ajar.

"I see that you've cleared out your library," Lupin said.

"I've sent everything on ahead." Snape held up a hand as Lupin's mouth opened. "Don't ask where. That's not something you ought to know."

"I wasn't going to ask," Lupin said mildly. "I was going to compliment you on your efficiency. I probably shouldn't have come... "

"No, you shouldn't have. It was reckless and borders on stupidity," Snape said. There was a half smile on his lean sallow face that robbed the remark of offense.

"... but I didn't want you to vanish without knowing that someone still cares; that it still matters," Lupin said. "There is just you and me now."

"Yes. Four warriors reduced to two," Snape said, rubbing the bridge of his nose. "It was like a game when we started. Our little gang of spies and heroes, with Dumbledore as the commanding general. It seems like he was there all of our lives."

"He was there for nearly thirty years of them, at any rate, and pulling the strings every minute of it." Lupin cleared his throat. "The funeral was yesterday morning. The Ministry agreed to inter him at Hogwarts, like he wanted. There was a big crowd. It's a nice marble tomb, by the side of the lake. If they keep the school open, I suppose visiting it will be part of the traditions, one of these days."

"In fifty years the Sixth Years will be etching their names on it with charm spells. Nothing remains sacred forever."

Snape picked up his own wine glass and took a sip from it, then stared through the ruby-red liquid at the dying fire.

"When you knocked, you brought me back from a long time ago. I was thinking about walking down that tunnel to the Shrieking Shack, with my heart in my mouth, praying that James was going to show up in time to rescue me and that he hadn't fallen asleep under some tree or gone off to flirt with Lily."

"What were you going to do if he didn't show up?"

Snape shrugged. "Try to stupify you, I guess. I had my wand."

"It was all so crazy," Lupin murmured. "Years of craziness, just to create an image."

"It worked. Even in the hands of an accomplished Legilimans I could honestly claim that Sirius Black sent me down there to be torn to shreds by a werewolf, and that James Potter rescued me. I could even show that memory in a pensieve, if I had to do so." The faint ghost of a smile glimmered in his eyes. "I suppose having James hang me upside down in the middle of the quad was a bit over the top,"

"It certainly was," Remus said dryly. "Where did you get those tatty gray shorts? They never came from the castle laundry, not the way that the house-elves love bleach."

"I washed them myself in one of the bathrooms, with a bar of laundry soap that I picked up in some Muggle store." Snape laughed shortly and shook his head, remembering. "It took me two months to get them to that particular shade of depressing gray. I kept telling James to wait one more week. He wanted to get it over and done with."

"The four of us played our roles, just the way that Dumbledore intended us to do," Lupin said softly, "but I think that yours was the hardest part, Severus."

"Do you? I don't know. I've built the persona of the unlovable Snape up so well that now I'm not sure I can extricate myself from it."

"Don't you want to?"

"I don't know that either."

"So, now what?"

"Now I go into hiding and wait for a call from the Dark Lord. What else is there for me to do? I'll wait for the end, and hope that I can be of use when the end comes. What else can the puppet do when the puppet master is gone?"

"Dumbledore should never have... "

"Don't," Snape said. "He told me what he expected from me. I did it."

Remus Lupin drained the last of his wine and stood up. "I had better go. You need to leave here as soon as possible, and I'm keeping you."

Snape stood up as well. "I suggest that you go to the Aurors around dawn and tell them that you just remembered about this place, from school records or something. They will be delighted to raid it, and it will help to solidify your position on the side of the Ministry, werewolf or not."

"I'll do that," Lupin said, picking up his cloak and fastening it around his throat. "Thanks for the suggestion."

He advanced toward the other man and lifted his hands to grip the other's shoulders. "I'm sorry that it had to be you Severus."

"So am I," Snape admitted. "If Narcissa Malfoy hadn't insisted on that unutterably insane vow, perhaps things could have been different. I argued with Dumbledore; I suggested ways of getting around it. He wouldn't listen to anything I proposed. He had his own vision."

"He always did, Severus. He always did."

Lupin pulled him into an embrace, and for a moment they stood there, arms around each other; two comrades at the final parting.

Finally Lupin stepped back, his eyes moist, and said roughly, "If we don't meet again..."

"If we don't meet again, remember that I kept faith."

Lupin nodded, perhaps not trusting himself to speak, and turned to the door.

After he had gone, Snape finished the wine and then tossed the two empty goblets into the dying fire, where they shattered and the red coals turned the fragments of glass into shards of blood. He stared at them for a few minutes, apparently deep in thought, then drew out his wand and flicked it at the lamp hanging from the ceiling. The candle flames sank and died without a flicker.

Shrouded in darkness and moving like a shadow, he walked through the kitchen, pausing only to lift his black cloak from a coat hook by the back door. He fastened the cloak around his shoulders, unbolted the door and stepped out into the weedy, neglected, back garden. Overhead, gray clouds scudded against a darker gray sky. He breathed deeply and could smell the threat of rain in the air.

He took a few steps away from the dark bulk of the house, and turned on his heel. There was a sharp crack! sound, like the breaking of old bones, and Severus Snape was gone.

Irena Candy Wizard's House - 2 6