Apothecary and Auror

Chapter Seven: Divergent Paths

Warden Reid was not pleased.

That Snape knew, though the door to Reid's office was closed to him now, while he waited outside for his turn to talk to the Warden, though he'd neither seen nor spoken to Reid in the twenty-four hours since he'd heard his icy voice over the fireplace.

Twenty-four hours had passed, and the Dementors still were disabled. There was no way Warden Reid could be happy about that.

Reid's office door opened and a tight-lipped Potter came out. He closed the door quietly behind him. Then, with his fists clenched at his sides, he strode off. He paid no attention to Snape.

The door opened again. Reid's head appeared in the doorway.

"Snape," he said, gesturing Snape into his office.

Reid slid behind his desk after closing the office door. He did not invite Snape to sit in the armchair opposite.

Even here, Snape noticed, everything seemed brighter. Milky sunlight filtered through the small, narrow window above Reid's head and slanted down to the flagstones beneath Snape's feet. It was the first he'd seen of the sun since the day before he'd embarked for Azkaban.

"Why did you refuse to give Ruskin the Defenses-Downdraught yesterday?"

Reid's soft voice snapped Snape out of his reverie. "Didn't Potter explain--?"

"I don't want Potter's explanation," Reid cut in. "I want yours."

"He seemed weak. Ill. He wasn't himself. I thought here--with the Dementors--he might die if his magical defenses were stripped away."

"You're no Healer. How would you know that?" Reid said. Gone was his mild manner, the Dumbledore-like twinkle. His eyes and his voice were frigid.

"I knew Ruskin pretty well at school," Snape said. "We were in the same year. The same House--"

"Yes. Slytherin. The House which has produced more Dark wizards than any other. You associated there with Ruskin, a known Death Eater."

Fear twisted in Snape's gut. "He wasn't a Death Eater then!"

"None of you were. Then. What about now?"

"What do you mean?" Snape demanded.

"Show me your arm."

Snape felt his jaw drop.

"You heard me," Reid said. His voice was edged with menace. "Roll up your sleeve and show me your left arm."

"You're playing with me! I won't have it!" Snape cried hotly. "Don't you even want to know what happened in the infirmary?"

Reid laughed. He leaned back in his chair and folded his arms across his chest. "I know what happened. Yours and Potter's squabbling aroused every Dementor Officer Lawlor was trying to train on the second-floor cellblock. They overwhelmed her, by the way. Just in case you actually care. The St. Mungo's Healers tell me she'll need at least two weeks in intensive care. Meanwhile, my overtime budget is being rapidly depleted by the half-goblin guards who are working double shifts to cover the holes in my staffing schedule left by the forty Dementors which you and Potter have rendered absolutely worthless. And the only Death Eater the Aurors have captured who could have given us meeting locations and the names of those in the Dark Lord's Inner Circle is a soulless imbecile. Thanks, again, to you and Potter."

Snape said nothing.

"I'll have to tell Madame Morgan what a good job you did." Reid was smooth as silk again. "She'll know how to reward you."

The Hidden Hellebore. The fear went from twisting in Snape's stomach to wringing it like a wet rag.

"Exactly." Reid seemed to have read Snape's mind. "You may be back again soon, as my guest. And the Dementors, I assure you, will be back in top form. Until then, pack your bags and get out of here. The launch leaves for the Shetlands in an hour. You'd better be aboard."

Snape needed no second invitation. "Yes, sir," he said, then turned on his heel and left.

#

A heavy, wet snow was falling on Snape's hood and against his face as he stood on the deck of the MM Waterfetters, staring out into the fogbound sea. For something to look at, he turned to watch the Weatherman fiddle with his gauges, then wave his wand to settle the choppy waves that occasionally washed high enough against the hull to soak the deck with spray.

No Creature-catcher on board today, Snape noticed. With Dementors on Azkaban Island, the Ministry didn't need sea monsters swimming off it to prevent escape.

Presently he felt a tap on his shoulder. It was Potter. Melting snow dripped from his hood and tendrils of his hair were plastered flat and wet against his forehead. Even his glasses looked a little steamed, but not so that Snape couldn't see his hazel eyes.

"Gave you the boot, too, did they?" Potter said.

"I beg your pardon?"

"Reid, I mean. 'Don't darken my door again,' and all that."

Snape shrugged.

"I don't care," Potter went on. "I'm quitting, anyway."

"Quitting?"

"The Department. The Aurors. Let Barty Crouch have his Dementors. I'm clearing out. It'll make Dad happy, anyhow."

Of course. Potter could quit. His family had money. His mother was happy and cared for. His father was well-connected.

"Your father will find you another job, I suppose."

Potter looked at him very oddly for a moment. "He already has," he said quietly. "I've been part-time for a while. Now I can go full-time."

"How nice. That should make the noble sacrifice of your career as an Auror a little easier to bear." Snape turned his back on Potter, to stare out again at the glassy, Weather-charmed sea.

"Right," Potter said. "Shouldn't have presumed to chat with you. Got it." In a few long, sure-footed strides, he was across the deck, on the port side, opposite Snape. With his back to Snape, he, too, stared out over Azkaban Sound.

Snape watched the sleety snow pelt Potter's tall, cloaked form for a few minutes. When the image of a woman crowned with flowers, her green eyes glowing with love, rose between him and Potter, Snape turned again to the flat, gray sea.

#

"Don't you worry about a thing, Severus," Lucius Malfoy said. "I've already taken care of Thom Reid. And of Melusine Morgan. She was easier, I'll grant. She likes you, says your her best Apothecary. But I managed Reid, too. He won't talk. I have some friends, after all, even in this Ministry."

Snape had never been happier to see Lucius's eagle owl than he'd been on that day he'd returned to London from his stint at Azkaban. She had brought him a weekend invitation. He had accepted it.

Now he and Lucius were walking together, in the leafless, frostbitten park of Malfoy Manor. How easy it had been, after a few quietly encouraging words from Lucius, to pour out the whole, horrible story of Ruskin and the Dementors!

"Thank you, Lucius," Snape said, as grateful for Malfoy's patient ear as for Malfoy's exertions in the Ministry on his behalf.

"Think nothing of it. It is my pleasure to be of service to a worthy man."

They walked together in silence on the woodland path. Snape felt Malfoy's eyes on him, in an intent, yet not disconcerting gaze.

"Olaus Ruskin was a hero," Lucius said then.

"Yes. I think, in his way, he was," Snape answered. "Even though he was a Death Eater."

Was. They both used that word. For, mercifully, Ruskin's body had died not a week after the Dementor had stolen his soul.

"No, Severus. No qualifications, please. Ruskin was a hero." Lucius paused. "And I think it is time I told you exactly why I say that. You see, mine was one of the names he died to protect."

Snape stopped, stared into Lucius's calm face. "No," he whispered.

"Yes," Lucius said. His right hand went to his left sleeve. His long, graceful fingers worked for a few moments at the buttons of his shirt cuff, then he shoved shirt, coat and robesleeve above the elbow of his left arm.

There was the Dark Mark, black as a brand burned into the pale skin of the inner forearm.

Lucius dropped his arm. The sleeves fell to his wrist, covering the Mark.

Snape lifted his eyes and stared into Malfoy's face.

"Don't you see it, Severus, even yet?" Lucius asked softly. "Who are the tyrants? Who are the oppressors? Who are the evil ones, who must be resisted at any cost? Ruskin saw. Why, I hear even James Potter's seen the light. He's quitting Law Enforcement; I hear he's already submitted his resignation."

"Not to join you," Snape said.

"Oh, no." Lucius's voice dropped nearly to a soothing whisper. "Not that. But never mind Potter. We're talking about you, Severus. You've not only seen the depravity of the current Ministry of Magic, of Fudge, Crouch and their cronies. You've shown the courage to resist it. Don't you realize you don't have to resist it alone? Don't you realize you could have comrades, friends to fight by your side? Haven't you seen that the Lord's party is comprised of men and women of the magical caliber and moral fiber of Olaus Ruskin?"

"Lord Vol--"

"Shhh! Don't say his name. It's disrespectful, to say the least." Lucius smiled one of his gentle, angelic smiles. "But you do know who I mean."

"Yes. I know who you mean."

They walked in silence. Snape heard bare boughs creaking in the wind, saw winter sunlight dance through the branches to dapple the dead leaves that blanketed the ground.

"I wonder if you could see your way, Severus, to coming with me sometime to meet him. For a very short conversation. Mutual introductions, as it were."

"This is very dangerous, Lucius. You're breaking the law."

Lucius smiled. "And you haven't?"

Snape froze.

"Oh, no, Severus. I don't mean the Hidden Hellebore. I mean when you refused to allow Potter to force the Defenses-Downdraught down Ruskin's throat." Lucius paused, then continued. "Breaking the law because the law is wrong. Some people call that civil disobedience. Rather like joining an outlawed political party, isn't it? Whose members are now being subjected to Dementors by the Ministry of Magic. A Ministry who have the law on their side, but not necessarily the right."

Snape looked up, from sunlight on the ground to sunlight striking deep into Lucius's gray eyes.

"Am I making any sense at all to you, Severus?" Lucius asked.

"As a matter of fact," Snape said, "you're making a great deal of sense."

"You'll go with me, then? For a visit. A short conversation. Absolutely no commitment required. If you don't like what you hear, back you come, no questions asked. All you have to do is promise not to betray me. If you can't do that, well then..." Lucius smiled. "I'll just put a bit of a Memory Charm on you."

"I can promise. And I can come with you. I'll hear your Lord out."

"...There are things worth dying for when you must, Severus," Ruskin had said. "When people like Potter will no longer allow you to live for them. Maybe someday you'll see that."

Maybe someday he would.

"I'll hear him out," Snape said. "For Ruskin's sake."

THE END