A Cloud Before the Moon

Chapter 31

The room was dark and dusty, with a slightly dank odor. He had been away for quite a while, and was not surprised it had been left in disrepair. He left Bailey lying on the floor, and carried Letha down the hall to another room, pushing the door open. This room was bright and airy, and though it had been empty for years, there was a cheery fire in the grate and fresh flowers on the bedside table. He lay Letha down on the bed, covering her with the soft, flowery quilt. Then he kissed her on the forehead and departed, shutting the door behind him.

"Who's there?' a woman's voice called suspiciously. "Cissy? Cissy, is that you?" The voice sounded hopeful now.

"No, it is I, Mother."

"Oh", she responded, clearly disappointed. "You startled me. You're always skulking around like that; it drives me crazy."

The tall, slim woman approached him. She had cold, pale, handsome features, about which her dark hair was meticulously framed in a complex old-fashioned coif.

"Hello, Mother. It is a pleasure to see you again, as well."

She scolded him. "What were you doing in Cissy's room? I saw you sneaking out of there."

"I wasn't sneaking," he hissed. "I don't deny I was in her room."

"You'd better stay out of there!"

He rounded on her. "I have a guest who will be using Narcissa's chamber for a short while. It is YOU who will stay out of there." He grasped her upper arm, perhaps a bit roughly. "Is that clear?"

She pushed him away. "You are an ill-mannered brute, an uncouth pig, just like your father." As he drew back in distaste, she knew she had drawn blood. "At least your cousin married a gentleman."

He smirked. "Yes, of course. Have they visited you recently?"

"They are very busy and important people. Cissy sent me a lovely picture of little Draco. What a beautiful little boy he is, too. You must see the picture."

"That is unnecessary. After all, we will be seeing him at his birthday party in a few weeks, shall we not?"

She looked at him oddly. "Birthday party?"

"Surely you received an invitation from Narcissa?"

"You're making that up!" She began screaming at him shrilly. "If Cissy were having a party for my nephew, she would invite me. Why would she invite you and not me? You're lying!"

He smiled coldly. "If that is what you wish to believe." He swept past her and headed for the kitchen to find the old house-elf.

"Master Severus, you is home!" she squeaked excitedly. "Is good to see you!" The tiny wizened creature grew teary-eyed.

"It is good to see you too, Fippy." It WAS nice to know that somebody had missed him. His mother seemed to be oblivious to the fact that he had been in Azkaban. Or perhaps, she wished he was still there.

"Thank you, Master Severus." she croaked. "Sir honors Fippy." She threw her arms around his knee, and he did not shake her off immediately. "What can I do for you, sir?"

"Would you mind preparing a nice hot meal for two, and bringing it to Cousin Narcissa's chamber?"

Her eyes widened. "Miss Narcissa's room? Madame Snape will be most angry."

"Madame Snape's view of the matter is of no interest to me." He added, "Oh yes, and have you any stale bread or slops, or something of that nature?"

"Oh no, sir", she answered, horrified.

"Well, anything will do, the less palatable the better. Bring it to the small spare room in the upper west wing."

Fippy stared at him, her huge eyes even wider than usual. "That room, sir? But that room is not good for no one. Is in very bad condition."

"I know. Not that mine - not that my current room - is much better."

"Fippy is so sorry, sir, please do not be angry with Fippy, sir, but Madame Snape said..."

"I know. I don't blame you." No doubt, Mother was hoping he would just stay away.

"Thank you, sir, thank you."

He smiled at her. "No, Fippy, thank YOU." He began heading back up the stairs while Fippy nearly collapsed in ecstasy. He turned around. "Oh yes, and could you send three owls to my chamber?"

"Three owls?" She looked puzzled. "We doesn't have..." Then her expression brightened. "Yes, Master Severus."

In his room, he lit a fire in the grate and wiped the dust off his desk. He sat down with quill and parchment and composed three letters - one to Albus Dumbledore, one to Narcissa (accepting the invitation to his nephew's party), and one to Anjana Patil. That one gave him the most concern; he feared she might rip it up at the sight of his seal.

After he'd sent off the three letters, he paid Bailey a visit. The room looked as unappealing as ever. A lukewarm bowl of congealed gray something-or-other and a jug of water were already set up and the fire was lit. "More than you deserve" thought Snape, as he waved his wand and removed the thorny vines in which Bailey was bound. As the man began stretching his arms and legs, Snape summoned Bailey's wand, catching it as it flew towards him. He wrinkled his nose in distaste, occasioned in part by the rank smell of stale urine. "Really, Bailey, can't you control yourself?"

Bailey stared at Snape, terrified. "Where am I? What are you going to do to me?" Snape ignored him. "The Ministry will be looking for me; you know that, don't you?"

Snape flashed a cryptic smile at him. "Not for long, I'd wager." He was counting on Dumbledore to take care of that. He left the room, locking the door with a key and multiple spells and hexes before he headed for Narcissa's room.

He woke up Letha and brought over the tray of food Fippy had left. Any curiosity she may have had about her surroundings was quickly overcome by the alluring scents of the food. Without a trace of decorum, she demolished an entire plate of veal cutlets, green peas, and mashed potatoes, sopping up the gravy with hunks of fresh bread. A large carafe of pumpkin juice disappeared posthaste, and when everything was gone, she emitted a satisfied belch. Finally, she looked up and blushed. "Sorry about that. I was famished."

"Would you like mine as well?" he asked drily.

She seemed to consider the offer. "No, thank you. Please, go ahead and eat. After you remind me - who are you?"

He sighed. "Severus Snape."

"And I am...?"

"Letha Faraday."

She mouthed the two names silently. "And, how do I know you?"

All in all, not a simple question. But the most generally accurate answer was simple. "We are old friends."

"I see. Oh, forgive me. Please, have your dinner. I will be quiet." He proceeded to eat, finding that he too was quite famished. While he ate, she sat watching him silently, which was rather disconcerting.

When he moved the dishes away, she spoke again. "Have I always been like this?"

"No. You are, in fact, a very intelligent woman."

"Am I?" she mused wistfully. "Doesn't do me much good now, does it?"

He took her hands in his, and pointed to the scratches from the thorny vines when she'd tried to untie George Bailey. "Do you remember how these happened?"

She sat thoughtfully for several moments then shook her head. "No idea."

His shoulders sunk. It meant that there might be no possibility of a 'learning curve'; each day she would have to learn anew what she had learned the day before. Perhaps, he thought, he should keep her on a steady dose of the memory charm antidote. Were it he, eventual death from poisoning would be preferable to a perpetual state of dementia praecox, made worse by the comprehension that it was occurring. Dumbledore - he would have to discuss it with him. And he hoped he would hear from Anjana Patil.

After a few days, Letha seemed to be feeling stronger. He was very pleased to discover that, if she was allowed to sleep and awaken without the aid of spells, potions or charms, she could recall the events of the day before.

One morning, an owl arrived from Professor Calibrato at Hogwarts.

Dear Severus Snape:

I have informed Headmaster Dumbledore that I am considering retiring my post as Potions Master of Hogwarts. Upon due consideration, you have been recommended as a possible successor. Should you have any interest in the post, please appear at the Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry on the 13^th day of December.

Sincerely,

Professor Tincturus Calibrato.

He reread the letter several times. At their previous meeting, he had hinted to Dumbledore that he would be interested in teaching Defense Against Dark Arts. He felt he was more qualified to teach it than most people, and he could not imagine what other sort of work he could obtain for which he would have the slightest bit of interest. He was sure Lucius would hire him in any capacity he should wish, but that was not something he would even consider.

Teaching meant having to put up with - students - (he grimaced unconsciously) - but it did not really seem like such a completely odious idea. And then, he really liked the idea of being at Hogwarts. Not that his memories of his school days were so pleasant - time had not dulled the edges of his recollections into a false golden nostalgia - but he felt safe there. Perhaps it was only because of Professor Dumbledore - but the school had always been a haven to him. At least, it had been better than home. And while teaching Potions was not the same as Dark Arts, it was a place to start. Perhaps they'd found someone to teach THAT class who managed to stick around for more than a year. He couldn't very well ask to usurp another professor's position. Not immediately, at any rate. (It did not occur to him how readily he thought of himself as a professor, as if it were a given that he would be offered the position.)

His only disappointment was that the interview would not be held until December 13^th - after the Malfoys' party. He would have liked to ask Dumbledore's advice - on a number of matters. And he hated the idea of keeping Bailey in his custody for that long, but there seemed to be no other choice. In the meantime, he would have been pleased to know that, despite her initial misgivings, Anjana Patil had decided to read his letter.