The Dream of One Night

CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

Avrille

Once the vision had dissolved into flashings of normal, random images, I forced myself awake. As soon as the room came into focus, I jumped out of bed, filled now with purpose. The clock showed it was just after eight in the morning, so though it hadn't seemed that long, the vision had taken up a lot more time than I would have liked. Though I had absolutely no idea who that mystery girl was, or where she could be so I could go and "see" her, at least she had confirmed she knew Severus well. So, I figured, he must know her. Because of her age, I thought maybe she was a student of his, but I was certain I'd never seen her before in the school. I knew Severus had been an only child, so that ruled out the possibility of a younger sister. I really had to find her name. Then I could go to the library and try to find out more about her. I dressed in a hurry and walked into Severus' sitting room with my mind made up to find out who she was before any more precious time was lost.

Before now I had been much too concerned with Severus' privacy to look for any hints as to his whereabouts, but now that I was certain he was in danger, respecting his privacy was the least of my worries. I needed to find out all about him, and I needed to do it quickly; the girl said that he couldn't last much longer, wherever that was. Besides, it was possibly because of Severus' reticence that this had happened. I had always guessed there was something important he wasn't telling me, something to do with why he didn't want to become too intimate with me. Perhaps if I had known what was bothering him, then I would have had a clue as to why he had disappeared.

I sat down at Severus' desk and started pulling out drawers, tipping them gently over onto the floor so I could sift through their contents. The top two drawers had nothing in them except boring-looking finance sheets, old letters from his publishers and editors, and a box of purchase receipts, mostly laboratory supplies. I did find the receipt from the jewellers where Severus had bought my engagement ring and nearly choked when I saw the sale price. I hoped Severus had insured the ring like he had the necklace because, after seeing how much it had cost, I'd be too scared to take it out of its box again.

In the third drawer, there was a slew of information about me. He had a copy of my R.A.T., all of my grade transcripts, and the recommendation letters my former deans had written for me when I applied to Hogwarts for my apprenticeship. Though I was dying to know what they had said to help me get my position here, I didn't have time for that kind of distraction. Under my school files was a cut out picture of me that Colin Creevy had snapped for the school newspaper. The black and white ink around the photograph was smudged, as though it had been handled often. Beneath all of that, I located Severus' degree from the Academia Veneficiorum, still rolled up in its original leather presentation case.

The main drawer running along the underside of the desk was locked, but a simple charm opened it, making it unlikely to contain anything personal. Indeed, it only held folders of Severus' students' pre-Easter Potions grades. Severus probably didn't keep the students' most current marks in his office since that would be the obvious place to search if a devious student was looking to alter his grades. My heart skipped a beat for a moment when I was able to locate a hidden drawer in the desk, but it turned out to be completely empty.

Sitting in a sea of information, annoyed and desperate, I quickly flipped through every single sheet of paper once more. When that again resulted in nothing useful, I stood and spent over two hours inspecting the spine of every single book lining the walls, hoping for perhaps a photo album, a year book, or a family genealogy. All I found were classic novels and textbooks.

By now I was so frustrated I was getting angry. What was wrong with Severus? Why would he have no personal mementos anywhere?

I knelt beside the mess I had made on the floor and forced myself to take a few deep breaths. There had to be somewhere else I could look... Severus may come across to others as being cold and indifferent, but I had long ago discovered his deep, pensive, romantic side. He treasured things that were dear to him, like that single picture of me he had saved from the newspaper and also his mother's necklace...

The necklace. The safe. I had forgotten about the safe.

I grabbed my wand and tried to stand up so quickly I slipped over the sheets of paper on the floor. I hurried over to where I knew the safe was concealed. When I inspected the books, I had been so focused on reading each individual spine that I had forgotten I was standing right in front of it. Now, holding my wand under my arm, I quickly scooped out the books blocking the secret panel and dropped them to the floor. Trying to pin down the unlocking spell Severus had shown me among my numerous other swirling thoughts, I took a deep breath and flicked my wand at the flat sheet of metal. The door sprang open, and I was hit with a quick burst of escaping air.

There was the black case containing the necklace Severus had given me, but, more importantly, beneath it lay the stacks of folders and papers I had noticed on my birthday when Severus put the necklace away. Behind the papers was another box about the same size as the necklace case, but made out of carved wood. I grabbed the folders and the wooden box and brought them over to the coffee table. Sitting down on the couch, I took the wooden box onto my lap and flipped it open.

Inside was a pile of photographs. The one resting on the top showed a girl sitting at a table holding a sketch pad, her black and white face smiling up at me.

It was the girl from my vision.

Holding my breath I gently removed the photograph, which had been sticking to the one beneath it, and held it up to the light. There was absolutely no denying it was of the same girl in the same exact room I had visited last night. There was even a cup and saucer set out at the empty place across from her at the table. With hands trembling I turned over the photograph and saw on the back that someone had written with an elegant, feminine script in light pencil: "Charlotte at home, July 1954."

The picture was of Severus' mother, taken five years before he was even born. I felt light-headed as realizations washed over me. I had spoken with Severus' mother... the woman who, had she lived, would have been my mother-in-law. Turning over the photograph and staring at Charlotte again, I could definitely see the resemblance now. Though her colouring was the complete opposite of her son's, she had the same warm smile as him and moved her head and fingers in the same graceful way. Now that I knew who the mystery girl was, I put the photo aside to examine the remaining pictures.

There were only a dozen or so, but I could tell each one was painfully precious. The next two photographs were of Charlotte when she was slightly younger; one where she stood with her parents, the other of her sitting outside on a swing hanging from a tree branch. These had acquired a sepia tint, but were still in otherwise perfect condition. The next was of a beaming Charlotte holding an infant Severus on her lap. This one made me laugh out loud because I could never have imagined my tall, elegant fiancé had been such an enormously fat baby unless I had seen it with my own eyes.

There were four more pictures of young Severus with his mother. Even though only four or five years old, Severus as a boy had the same haunting stare as he did now. Occasionally his photographed self would break into a smile as his mother poked him playfully in the side, and the change to his countenance was breathtaking. There was one photo that looked like a posed family portrait, both ten-year-old Severus and Charlotte wearing uncomfortable-looking evening dress, but a piece of the picture was missing as though someone had ripped out a third person. I wondered if it had been Severus' father. I noticed in this particular picture that Severus did not smile once, and the smile on Charlotte's face looked pained and forced; lines creased the corners of her green eyes, which were two dull marbles that no longer sparkled with the brilliance of her youth.

At the bottom of the box were the only two photographs that were not of his mother. One was of Severus as a lanky teenager, wearing his Slytherin school uniform, with his arm playfully around the shoulder of a pretty girl who looked about the same age. She was wearing Gryffindor robes, her long red hair falling over her shoulders as she doubled up with laughter. She had green eyes that were almost as jewel-like as Charlotte's. I flipped the photo over and read handwriting that I recognized as Severus', though it was slightly messier as if he had written it around the time the picture was taken: "Lily Evans and Me, Fourth Year." Now that I looked closer, the girl did look familiar. I must have seen her picture in the newspaper after she and her husband were murdered when You-Know-Who tried to kill Harry. The other photograph was of Lily as well, wearing graduation robes and holding aloft an award that read "Head Girl of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, 1977" with one hand as she waved her other vigorously at the camera.

I gently replaced most of the photographs back into the box with a heavy sigh. All of the people contained therein, with the exception of Severus, were already dead. I stared at the picture of Charlotte sketching again, my stomach feeling as though a hand made out of ice was squeezing it, terrified at the thought it might be solely up to me to make sure Severus did not join their ranks. I rubbed the heels of my hands into my eyes, which were burning from all of the reading I had done the past few hours.

As I sat with red and green blotches flashing behind my closed eyelids, I mentally ran through all of the things Charlotte had said to me. She had said Severus was in danger, but she couldn't tell me where or why. She was protecting him at the moment, but she was quickly losing strength. She insisted I had to come and see her, which presumably meant that I needed to find out the location of the house with the conservatory. Maybe somewhere in that house was a more definite clue, but the thought of more endless searching while Severus was in peril made me want to scream. Then, just as the vision was ending, Charlotte had told me to take care of her grandson.

...But she was Severus' mother, so her grandson would be his child...

I dropped my hands from my face and snapped my eyes open, the room slowly returning to focus.

Severus' child...

Oh my God... Was it possible?

I leapt up off the couch and ran from the room out into the freezing cold dungeon corridors, not even caring if someone saw me. The heels of my shoes clacked noisily as I hurried through the twisting, shadowy passageways until I reached the main dungeon classroom. Not even remembering Severus had long ago told me that his storeroom was charmed so it couldn't be opened without a key, I thrust my wand at the latch and expected it to open, which it did. Holding my wand between my lips, I reached up and sorted distractedly through jars and bags of potions ingredients, searching desperately in the dim light for what I needed. Finally I located what I was searching for. With my arms filled with grimy containers, I ran back out into the classroom.

I lugged an extra cauldron onto one of the worktables, filled it with several cups of water, then lit a fire beneath. Brushing my hair back, which kept falling annoyingly into my face, I sliced and chopped herbs with a silver dagger as the water boiled beside me. I dropped the herbs into the cauldron and added a dash of several oils, filling the air around me with the floral scent of cooking magic. I was glad it was such a simple potion, because I knew I had little spare time to be doing this; but I had to know for sure.

After ten minutes or so, I cut the heat, and levitating the burning hot iron cauldron and having it tip its contents over a strainer, I collected the potion into a wide glass beaker. The potion was perfectly clear like water, though it smelled like a combination of vanilla, warm pine needles, and freshly ploughed earth. Wiping the silver dagger on my sleeve and spraying it with alcohol to sterilize it, I dragged the blade lightly across the tip of my left ring-finger; any area that drew blood would have sufficed, but I was feeling symbolic. I winced slightly at the pain, but held my finger over the potion and squeezed out a few drops of blood. Dragging my cut finger across the palm of my other hand, I healed it instantly then sat down at the table with my face level with the potion. I closed my eyes and counted out the longest sixty seconds of my life. When I reached one minute, I counted another thirty seconds just to be sure, then I opened my eyes. I had to blink a few times before I really took in what I saw: The clear potion had turned a bright powder blue.

I was pregnant with Severus' son.