Snape In Love: Chasing Darkness Away

Chapter 6

Determination

The skies had darkened as the morning progressed, and by the time they had been disturbed from their conversation by their daughter's internal clock demanding that she be fed, angry, roiling clouds were drawing a heavy curtain of rain across the mountain tops and the rolling pastures that led to Hogsmeade. Severus stood at the window of their spacious and comfortably furnished drawing room, and peered out at the gathering storm, wiping the condensation covered windowpanes with his palm before impatiently muttering a drying charm on the diamond leaded glass.

"Ella?" he called through to the nursery.

"Mmm?"

"You do know that I always loved you, don't you?"

"You didn't, though," she replied cheerfully, and he smiled in spite of himself as he watched her walk back through to him, seeing his baby's head move instinctually against her cupping hand. "Not until that evening. That's what you told me when you proposed."
"Yes, but that was just when it became more difficult to fool myself...and I did still try to deny you, for a long time."

"I know, love."

"It's never been easy for me to accept friendship or affection, not from anybody. I had to push you away and lose you before I could find it in myself to love you wholeheartedly."

"I went through a similar process, you know. I do understand!"

"I know," he said ruefully. "Here, come and sit with me. A storm's coming."

He sat at one end of the long window seat, with its heavily embroidered velvet cushions, and she curled up between his legs, snuggling back into his arms. He nuzzled her hair, breathing deeply, and caressed his daughter's back as she lay in Ella's arms waiting to be fed. Together, they looked out and watched the sheet of rain encroach on the fields and advance relentlessly on the castle. Soon, the lake was pitted with huge droplets of water and the storm's bombardment agitated the millpond-calm facade until its restless appearance echoed, for once, its true, hidden nature. The first low rumblings of thunder could scarcely be heard through the pounding of the rain against their window, but the castle knew the storm was coming and welcomed it, its stones in deep, sympathetic vibration, unmistakable as the family sat and waited.

They did not have to wait long. Persephone had only just begun to suckle happily from her mother when the first flashes of lightning illuminated the distant crags, and soon forked tongues of blue-white electricity began to lap at the lake below.

"Severus, look!" Ella exclaimed. "It shouldn't be doing that, it should be hitting the Astronomy Tower!"

"Oh, Professor Sinistra would be pleased to hear you say that!"

"You know what I mean! It isn't obeying the laws of physics!"

"Since when was anything at Hogwarts obliged to do that?"

"Yes, but - "

"It's the squid. Calling to it."

Ella twisted her head back to look up at her husband incredulously.

"You have got to be joking!"

He looked down at her, raising his eyebrows quizzically.

"Severus, it's a squid, not an electric eel! And even if it was, it wouldn't - "

"Look there!" Severus interrupted once more, nodding out of the window. Something large and swift was cutting through the water, very close to the churning surface, cutting a pulsating swathe of ripples as it raced along. Ella gaped as it broke the surface, a silvery grey smoothness dragging myriad tentacles in its wake.

"It - it must be thirty feet long!"

"Thirty three, to be precise. Hagrid likes to keep track," he wryly as she glanced up at him once more.

"I am so glad I didn't know that before our wedding!" she replied with feeling.

Together, they watched as the giant squid broke the surface once more just as a fork of lightning arced down towards it. It was a direct hit, and small blue tendrils of electricity careened across the squid's undulating body and were absorbed. The squid submerged once more, but a ghostly outline could now be seen as it pulsed to the other side of the lake.

They watched with great interest as it repeated its strange behaviour several more times, until its glow shone almost as brightly in the lake as the full moon would in the sky, and then disappeared into the depths of the middle of the lake.

"That should keep the merpeople happy for a while," Severus noted with satisfaction. Ella sighed and shook her head.

"Go on, I have to ask. Why is that?"

He sniggered and said superciliously,

"There is an awful lot you don't know about this school, isn't there?"

"Oh, don't be so smug!" she replied, digging him in the ribs with her elbow and eliciting a deep, rumbling laugh.

"It'll mean they can save their water magic for other things, instead of trying to illuminate the bottom of the lake! The squid will keep the place as bright below the surface as the day is above, for several weeks, I should think. So, the gillyweed will grow, all the other underwater plants will thrive, and they'll be free to tend their crops and to mate!"

"Oh!" she replied, comprehension dawning, and then "Ohhhh!" as his lips nuzzled the soft skin just below her ear. His hand trailed along the curve of her neck and across her collarbone, down to the emerald that lay as ever at her breast, and he took its weight in his hand and closed his fingers around it. She covered his hand with hers, enclosing and caressing it, and tilted her head up to him so that he could adore her with his mouth.

After a few moments they broke apart, and Severus was ready to talk once more.

************************************************************

He walked blindly but determinedly, ignoring everything and everyone in his path, until he reached the huge stone phoenix that guarded the slowly spiralling staircase leading to the Headmaster's office. The door swung open of its own accord as he reached the top, and he entered the room to see Dumbledore's purple-robed form stooping over the sight of his highly polished brass telescope, up in his small circular observatory.

"Sit down, my dear boy," called the Headmaster with a wave of his hand in the general direction of the fireplace. Too agitated to sit, Snape climbed the slender ladder up to the observatory instead, saying,

"Albus, I need to speak with you urgently."

"Is it about that girl you made cry? I saw the whole thing, you know," sneered the voice of Phineas Nigellus from his vantage point overlooking the small turreted mezzanine. Snape's head snapped up to glare at the portrait.

"This is none of your business!"

"Yes, which girl would that be, Severus, Miss Davenport of Hufflepuff, or Miss Redemte, whom I believe you have just left in the library, in some confusion?"

Disarmed, Snape swung back round to see Albus' clear blue eyes questioning him.

"Damn it, Albus, who made you so bloody omniscient?"

"Ah, Severus, you know me better than that!" the Headmaster smiled ruefully, shaking his head as he made a minute adjustment to his telescope and bent over it once more. "Although I have to say, one does not have to be a Legilimens to understand a man's heart!"

"Your sentimentality is anathema to me, Albus, as you well know. And surely you know me better than to profess to understand what passes for my heart!"

His only comment being a shrug of his wise old shoulders, Snape turned from the Headmaster, scoffing impatiently and descending the insubstantial ladder once more. He strode over to the fire and rested one arm on the mantelpiece, lowering his forehead until it lay on it as he looked into the flames. Soon after, Dumbledore joined him there and Snape lifted his head to look at him, broodingly.

"I can't read her any more, Albus."

"We have had a similar conversation before, Severus, and I seem to remember my warning you not to try to read Miss Redemte without her consent! It is an abuse of her trust, and a misuse of your talents!"

"And something you yourself, would never do, of course!" Snape accused bitterly. "This morning - in the library - I had no choice."

"There are always choices, Severus."

"I had to. I'm - sorry, Albus. I had to know whether or not I was the one responsible for - her loss."

"Would your feelings change, if you found that you were?"

"My feelings?" Snape replied sharply. "I haven't said that I have feelings for her! You know as well as I do that unwarranted displays of emotion are a weakness that I can't afford. Voldemort would sense it in me and everything we have worked for would be lost!"

"Severus, my dear boy, leaving professional ethics aside for a moment, why do you suppose you are unable to read her? I seem to remember your doing so with little trouble mere weeks ago...I must, therefore, deduce that you are more deeply involved than you care to admit to yourself, and that your lack of objectivity is why you cannot read her."

"And I seem to remember having little trouble with Potter last year, he was an open book to me, and there's no love lost between us! I can't...I can't keep a clear head around her...do you suppose she is diffusing a Befuddlement charm when we meet? I have heard that Muggles use certain fragrances to great effect, it would be well within her capabilities to adapt one to contain such a spell, I'm sure Flitwick would know..."

The Headmaster shook his head in amusement and replied,

"Have you even considered the possibility that there is a natural attraction between the two of you?"

Snape grimaced and shook his head.

"No, there isn't. That is to say...there can't be. I need to tell you what I intend to do."

"Indeed?"

"The - attachment - that is growing - that appears to be growing - between myself and Miss Redemte cannot - must not continue."

Dumbledore folded his hands in front of him and rocked gently on his heels, making no comment, but pursing his lips and raising an eyebrow in a manner that said he was well aware of the contradictions inherent in Snape's comments. Snape was aware of them too, and he glared at the Headmaster and continued.

"She kissed me, and at the same time, I knew that she had seen something in me that I could not identify, but which didn't repel her, and I reached out, tentatively, and there was - nothing. Nothing at all. All I could think of was that I loved - that I was lost. And then I felt his call on my arm, faintly...I had a vision flash through me, of Voldemort, and I knew then that she could never be safe. He'll call me again soon, and too much is at stake. I will be brewing a particular potion this afternoon. I fully intend to ensure that Miss Redemte's misguided interest in me is squashed, for her own sake."

"And how do you propose to do that, exactly, Severus?" asked the Headmaster quietly.

"A potion exists that will - negate any physical reactions I may have whilst in her company. Once she has witnessed my lack of interest, and been subjected to my no doubt legendary sharp tongue, I fully expect that she will come to her senses and realise I shall always be unworthy of her."

"And why would you want to do something so destructive, boy?" frowned Dumbledore, his eyes steely as he compelled Snape by sheer force of will to meet his gaze.

"It cannot be! For her sake. I would ruin her, and if I didn't, the Dark Lord surely would."

"No, Severus, I cannot allow it."

Dumbledore's voice was firm, but filled with sympathy as he reached out to touch the younger man's shoulder. The effect on Snape was instantaneous.

"No? Do you realise what - "

"I do. My answer is unchanged."

Snape ran his hand through his hair desperately and crossed over to the window. He was holding his temper in check but his rage was born of fear and would not easily be contained.

Dumbledore continued,

"You are wrong, Severus, and I cannot allow it! Ella is a bright girl, she will take a good deal of convincing! And why would you want to upset her like that? She may never understand your reasons."

"But I can't keep her safe! Voldemort will use her against me, everything we have all worked for will be put at risk! If he knew of my feelings for her, her life would be in danger, I will not put her at risk!" Unable to prevent a note of pleading from creeping into his voice he continued, "It's far better that she should hate me. I couldn't bear to lose her at his hand. I need to protect her. I must not love her too much, he will sense it in me. I failed with Lily. I couldn't protect her and James. I will not make the same mistake again!"

"Their deaths were not your fault, Severus! You did all you could!"

"And it wasn't enough! Albus, I've lived with this for the last sixteen years! I look at Harry every day and I'm reminded of my first love, and the one I lost her to! Now, I don't expect the Fates to give me a second chance, but I swear, I will not let them repeat their treachery!"

Dumbledore shook his head sadly and sat down at his desk with a heavy sigh.

"You've always been far too hard on yourself, Severus. Oh, very well. Do as you will. For my part, I'll keep your secret from her, until you choose to tell her yourself."

Snape sagged, turning back to the window and leaning against the stone lintel. He rubbed his brow with his hand as he said, "Thank you, Albus. I'll make the necessary preparations."

Snape spent the remainder of that day absorbed in his work. He had spent a full half hour on his knees in a dark, dusty corner of his office, searching through a tower of ancient and arcane volumes until he found the particular spell he sought. Carrying it to his work table, he laid it open and ran a long finger down the list of ingredients comprising 'A Potion To Negate The Effectes Of Physickal Arousal'. The ingredients required were all in his private stores, and he gathered them together with a heavy heart, laying them out on his work counter along with all of the equipment he would need for the preparation of the potion. He could not shake the image of Ella's face from his mind, nor the memory of the brush of her lips over his. He thought he would go mad, driven insane by the violence of the feelings both unfamiliar and yearned for that raged inside him.

Only after the first ingredient had been tossed into the simmering cauldron did he manage, almost unconsciously, to subdue his emotions and allow the analytical side of his nature to reassert himself. Soon, he was lost in his work, absorbed in the creative process. He focussed with single-minded intensity on the shimmering fumes issuing from the steaming cauldron, mentally noting every change in their colour and aroma, adding carefully weighed ingredients, heedless of the dampened strands of hair sticking to his cheeks and the beads of moisture condensing on his brow. In his element now, he had forgotten completely the purpose of the potion he was creating, and all that mattered was that he did it to the best of his considerable ability.

The hours passed in an instant, and only after the straining process was complete did he remember himself. He stopped in his tracks, halfway to the cupboard where he stored an assortment of differently-sized glass vials, and he turned back to look at the bowl of clear, odourless liquid on his workbench, his gut twisting with the recollection of what he would have to do. With a heavy heart and a pronounced scowl marring his noble features, he took several vials from the cupboard and decanted the liquid into them. He stoppered them tightly, and discarded the remainder into the large stone sink in the corner of the room, making sure to rinse it out thoroughly and berating himself for being so damned professional even when his heart was splintering.

Three of the vials he placed on a high narrow shelf, concealed behind a selection of coloured jars with rusted screw-top lids containing dried flora and pickled fauna rarely used and remembered even less, while the fourth and last he took into his office. Hesitating for a moment, he shook his head impatiently then poured its contents into one of the golden goblets set upon the sideboard, added wine until the goblet was half full, looked at it intently for a few moments to ensure that the wine kept its colour and thus proved the efficacy of the brew, then returned to the store cupboard to lock it, before setting off for dinner.

She wore purple velvet that night and took his breath away. He had pushed all thoughts of her to the very back of his mind, and was holding them at bay with that most effective of distractions, a small but vociferous collection of Gryffindors who were sniggering in a most irritating fashion over a copy of the Daily Prophet. By the time her signature scent alerted him to her appearance at his side, it was too late. She had touched him on the shoulder, sending a lightning bolt to make his heart stumble over a beat or two, and he had no time to school his reaction as he turned to confront her presence. Even if his eyes had not been on a level with the swell of her exquisitely displayed breasts, creamy white against the rich crushed velvet of her closely fitting décolleté bodice, the immediate southwards rush of blood would have been equally disconcerting.

"There was something you wanted to ask me, Severus," she said, challenging him with the direct gaze he found so alluring, and so terrifying. "In the library this morning, when you came looking for me. You left so suddenly, you forgot to ask. What was it?"

His throat was constricted, and he tried not to stare as he stammered out something, anything, in response.

"It was, erm, ah, simply a question about the anti- erm- swelling potion to reduce joint pain" he stuttered inarticulately. He was unable to think about anything else but the swelling that had evidently cut off all the blood supply from that part of his brain that normally concerned itself with cognitive reasoning and the formulation of intelligent conversation, replacing it instead with bumbling inanity. She seemed to accept his explanation with equanimity, replying with what he detected as a slightly amused tone that suggested that she knew her power over him,

"Let's discuss it after dinner, shall we?"

She smiled sweetly, and gave him no opportunity to demur. She turned and made for her seat without a backward glance, leaving him to shift uncomfortably on his chair and wonder how it was that she had managed to take control of every conversation they had ever had. His defences were crumbling, he knew, and it would take every bit of his resolve to carry out his plan.

The pair spent most of the ensuing meal watching one another, and Snape wondered at the maelstrom of emotion he felt. He was accustomed to the anger and the fear, but confusion and desire were their strange new bedfellows and he could not easily reconcile them. He was sure his thoughts were written plainly all over his face, and her steady, perplexed scrutiny only served to confirm his fears, but the strength of his feelings for her coupled with the knowledge of the damage he intended to do and the hurt he would put in those clear green eyes prevented him from donning his habitual mask of impassivity.

He decided it would be best to slip away before dinner ended, determined to prepare himself for what lay ahead.

If he thought that retreating to his sanctuary would help alleviate his anxiety he was mistaken. He paced from his office to his bedroom and back again, imagining what he would say to her when she arrived, what she would say to him, on and on, over and over, until he reached the end when he would begin all over again. And every single scenario ended in the same way, with her eyes awash with tears and his bitter knowledge that no glorious phoenix could ever rise from the ashes of his wretched life.

A familiar knock at his office door alerted him to the Headmaster's arrival.

"Is it done?" Dumbledore asked.

"Yes," Snape replied through gritted teeth, every muscle in his tightly wound body a silent chorus for his words. "It's ready. I'll do it tonight. If she comes to me."

"Oh, she'll come to you Severus. I am certain of it, for she loves you," the Headmaster said sadly.

"Why me, Albus? What does she see in me? I certainly don't deserve her," he said bitterly.

"Well, well, as usual you do yourself a disservice, my friend. But some things are meant to be. They are written in the moon and the stars. No matter what you do, your plan may yet fail."

Snape shook his bowed head.

"If it fails, then I fail us all. And Ella. I can't let that happen."

"So be it. I'll be in my office later, Severus, if I am needed."

And, with resignation, Dumbledore got to his feet and left Snape alone.