A Cloud Before the Moon

Chapter 16

After Dumbledore left his office, Letha remained in the armchair and Snape paced the room, neither saying a word for some time. Finally, Letha ventured to speak. "Since you've brought up," she grimaced, "sharing things with Malfoy, I don't suppose it was you who told him about my grandmother living with a Muggle? Because otherwise, how did he find out?" Snape said nothing, while Letha stood up and walked over to him, shaking a finger in his face. "His father must have been ecstatic- who was going to put up a fuss about the suspicious death of some crazy old witch living with a Muggle?" Letha shook her head. "They welcomed you into their home like a member of the family. They trusted you. How could you?"

When she finished speaking, Letha looked up, and was surprised to see a softened expression on his face. "I never intended to cause them any harm."

"You never intended? Now there's a worthless excuse!" she said scornfully. "If it's even true, which I doubt."

"It is true, whether you believe it or not." He opened his mouth, then closed it again, clearly hesitant to continue. "You see, Lucius Malfoy has an uncanny ability to confound one's mind, to blur one's thoughts." His eyes focused tightly on hers as he spoke. "Back then, I was particularly vulnerable to his influence, I'm afraid."

Letha shivered slightly. She knew exactly what he meant. "Then this is what he did to me, as well, isn't it?"

"I suppose so."

It certainly would explain a great deal, she thought. "Can he do this to everyone?"

He looked down at his hands. "No. There are many who are susceptible. Not everyone, though," he added, looking up at her again. "I think - it takes a person who possesses certain qualities. Strength of character, a blameless soul, a pure heart." He softly added, "I once would have believed you were such a person. You cannot comprehend how it grieved me to learn it was not so."

No, of course, she had not been blameless and pure. After all, she'd succumbed to Malfoy's influence. He felt aggrieved? He was the one who'd been hurt? Letha was on the verge of tears. "I don't give a damn how you felt! How do you think I felt, Severus? How long do you suppose it took me to get through a day without reliving it, without feeling sick to my stomach? And you - you didn't give a damn about me! What could it have mattered to you? You threw me out of your house. You refused to talk to me!"

"Did you think so little of me as to believe I would do such a thing without a reason?"

"What reason? Do tell!"

He shook his head. "It no longer matters. That was a long time ago."

Letha banged her fist against the wall in anger and frustration, causing Fawkes the phoenix to let out a squawk. "Severus, you will not forgive me for something that happened when we were children. Yet, when I ask you to help me understand it, you tell me it was too long ago to matter!" She paused. "I never understood how it happened, how I allowed it to happen." Softly she continued. "I believed it was you, I really did. If only - if only it had been you, it would have been all right." Oh dragon's balls, why did I say that?

Snape stared at her, his lips curled in revulsion. "No, it would not have been all right!" he spat. "That was precisely the problem!" He pointed at her accusingly. "I would never have done such a thing to you. And if I had, you should have fought me, tooth and nail. You should have died, if necessary, to protect your virtue. I would have - I would have defended you with my life. But apparently, it wasn't all that important to you."

Letha stared at him in astonishment. She thought he hadn't cared. Or - perhaps - he was jealous. Thought she'd been captivated by the allure of Lucius Malfoy? It wasn't really that, was it? No - the problem with her, as he saw it, was that she had not proved herself to be up to his impossibly high standards of perfection. Like him, she was susceptible. Like him, she was merely human. "Oh that is really a touching thought, but as I recall, you did not exactly appear, just in time, to rescue a poor maiden in distress."

Snape gave a derisive snort. "Distress? That is not what I was given to understand."

Letha went absolutely livid. "I've had quite enough of this! A dung beetle would have more empathy! I will not make apologies to you for failing to meet your ridiculous standards of perfection. I think you have some idea that there is the Perfect Woman somewhere out there." She moved in closer to him. "To hell with that. I was there for you. Don't you know that? Your perfect woman, she wasn't there. She doesn't even exist."

"You are wrong - she does exist. Or rather, she did. It was simply - not - you. You turned out not to be the person I thought you were. And - you did me the great favor of proving the fickleness and futility of friendship."

"Did I? That's not how I see it. Quite the other way around."

Snape ignored her comment. "Had it been possible to convince another that were so, had he not been so pig-headed and arrogant, she would still be alive."

"What are you talking about?"

"That is none of your business."

Letha threw up her hands in disgust. "This is going nowhere." She didn't want to talk about it anymore. She was bewildered and upset and in no mood for any more insults or incomprehensible bits and pieces of meaningless information. "OK, look, just tell me more about Malfoy. I really want to understand this, for many reasons, and Dumbledore said you should tell me."

"Yes, I know. It's a long story, actually."

"That's fine. I'm listening."

Snape grimaced, but he'd promised Dumbledore, and Letha was quite certain he wouldn't renege "Very well. I will tell you what I know." Then he sat down for several moments of silence before he began to speak.

"As a boy, I was fascinated by the books my father kept in his study." An odd expression crossed his face, which Letha could not interpret. "Sometimes I borrowed books without his knowledge. There was one small curious volume. I did not even understand the title, but I kept it, hoping to make sense of it one day. It seemed to be written in some ancient and remote language, which I could not decode. I could find nothing that resembled it, not in any bookshop, nor in the Hogwarts Library. Even in the Restricted Section, there was nothing like it."

"Several years ago, I gained access to a remarkable library, truly unsurpassed. It had works of great antiquity. Forbidden works. Irreversible poisons, horrifying spells and terrible curses Grimoires filled with the magic of Dark Arts that were even outlawed in the wild and chaotic days before the Ministry of Magic existed, spells and curses that could have destroyed the world before it was scarcely even born." He paused. "It was the most remarkable treasure trove I could ever have imagined."

Letha grimaced. "A treasure trove? Interesting way to describe it."

"How could one fail to be intrigued?" Letha wondered if he really saw any difference between that and their youthful excursions in the forest.

"One day I came across a tiny grey pamphlet, tucked into another book. I immediately recognized the unusual writing on the cover - it matched the manuscript I'd taken from my father's study. This pamphlet held the key that explained the code to that book. I discovered the ingenious cryptogram used by the writer. He had employed an ancient Druidic rune, using the language of an obscure Semitic dialect, and then he applied a mathematical code. I set to work right away. It took some time to decipher."

"What was it that required such secrecy?" Letha's curiosity was piqued, though she could not imagine what this had to do with Lucius Malfoy.