Snape In Love: Chasing Darkness Away

Chapter 19

Calculation

Caius and Tonks intended to walk to Hogsmeade station and catch the Hogwarts Express for the first leg of their journey. The train passed through only once a week in the summer holidays, and the next time it called at the village it would be bringing students for the start of the new academic year. For this trip, however, the couple hoped to have a compartment all to themselves. Tonks confessed this shortly after they had greeted the Snape family in the Entrance Hall, and Severus gave Ella a supercilious smile. Ella frowned and linked her arm through her husband's, still unconvinced, but nevertheless it was she who suggested that they all walk into the village together.

"It's a lovely day, and I'd like to call in at Gladrags and Honeydukes," she explained, a little too casually for her husband's liking. He looked down at her suspiciously but acquiesced.

Once the party had been walking for around ten minutes and had reached the narrow lane beyond the main gates to the school, Ella released her husband's arm and left him to push Persephone and continue his conversation with Caius while she dropped back a little to fall into step with Tonks who had fallen behind after stumbling over a succession of small rocks in the road.

"I, er, I meant what I said last night, Ella," Tonks started awkwardly. "It's brilliant, seeing the three of you together."

"Thanks, Tonks," Ella smiled, wondering what was coming next.

"I might have said something last night that, well, sort of, might have sounded a bit odd..."

"Yes?"

"Erm...well, it's just that...I popped in on Snape after the trial, while he was at the Leaky Cauldron, I sort of thought he might like a bit of company, people were so worried about him after what you - I mean, you know, after what happened..."

Ella was about to admit that Severus had confessed all the night before, but thought better of it. It would be far better to hear Tonks' recollection of events. It was not that she expected there to be any discrepancies, but she sensed that Tonks was far more open than her husband, and as a man, he might have found certain details unimportant in his account and so might have omitted them. And, after all, he was a Slytherin, so self-interest was bound to play a part in anything he said or did, whether he was aware of it or not. She knew this to be true, and accepted it as part of his character. She smiled inwardly, realising that she too epitomised her own house. A cunning Ravenclaw, indeed.

"And how did you find him?" she asked carelessly.

"Oh, terrible!" said Tonks emphatically. "Empty bottles everywhere, unmade bed, it was a tip! Actually, now I come to think about it, it reminded me of my own place..." She frowned, and drifted off into thought for a moment, then shook herself and continued cheerfully, "Curtains closed, no lights on, dark and gloomy..."

"Severus or the room?" Ella asked.

"Hah! Both! He was in a bad way. People had been wondering whether he'd bother to go back to the school. Sirius told me. I decided to go and see if I could cheer him up."

"And how did you think you'd go about it?" Ella tensed as she spoke, trying to force a note of casualness into her tone. Tonks looked at her guiltily and mumbled,

"I was just going to talk to him, maybe tell him a few jokes..."

Ella looked at her dubiously.

"Jokes?"

"Yes, I know. I suppose I got a bit ahead of myself, I didn't stop to think he might not be in the mood for jokes."

"Tonks, he's never in the mood for jokes!"

"S'pose not. So anyway, when I saw what a state he was in, I just...I mean, he looked so sad, and I thought...well, it's not as if he's unattractive, is it, he looks a lot like Caius and Caius is drop dead gorgeous!" she said, lowering her voice conspiratorially so that the two men in front would not hear.

"He's far from unattractive!" Ella said waspishly. "Are you telling me you tried to seduce him because you fancy him?"

"Gods, no! To be perfectly honest, Ella, he's not my type. He'd drive me absolutely batty. No offence," she added hurriedly. "But it wouldn't have been too much of a stretch, you know, to force myself. I thought it'd help. It just seemed like a good idea at the time. But it wasn't. He got really cross, actually!"

"When you morphed into me?"

"Yeah. I'm sorry, Ella, it was only a kiss, and he only did it because he was drunk and upset."

"What happened, exactly?" Ella pressed, staring at her husband's broad, black-clad back with a gnawing, desperate need for reassurance. Now she knew exactly how he must have felt when he had suspected her of being seduced by Sirius Black in France.

"Nothing, that was it!" replied Tonks emphatically. "I turned into you, he kissed me, pushed me away and swore at me. Then I transformed back, and left. But I think it did work, you know, because he was back at Hogwarts the next day!" she finished happily.

The knot in Ella's stomach began to unravel and she heaved a sigh of relief. Tonks was a Hufflepuff, and a very open person, in spite of her Auror training. Ella believed her. She had believed Severus, of course, but had wondered about his ability to tell her the entire truth, suspecting him of the 'selective honesty' of which he had accused her over Sirius. Now she felt a little guilty for doubting him, so she simply grinned at Tonks and did not tell her that Severus had such a highly developed sense of duty that she was sure he would have returned to his post without her intervention. Better to let her think that she had done something to help. Then she picked up her pace a little and caught up with the two brothers, Tonks stumbling along behind her, and she slipped an arm around her husband's waist and squeezed him to her. Ah, he felt so good, and she smiled softly up into his eyes as he embraced her.

"And what have you two been gossiping about?" he asked, raising an enquiring eyebrow, his expression turning to dawning comprehension and a slight frown as he realised the probable nature of her discussion.

"Let's just say I might 'forgive' you again when we get home!"

He stopped in his tracks and released his hold on the pushchair for a moment so that he could take hold of his wife's shoulders and give her a deep, penetrating look.

"You doubted me, didn't you?" he accused. "You had to ask Tonks!"

"I simply wanted to hear both sides of the story!"

His eyes narrowed and his lips tightened impatiently, but she simply raised an eyebrow. His drew together into a frown, but he simply shook his head and pulled her to him to share a deep, searchingly tender kiss. When they broke apart it was to see Caius and Tonks quite a way ahead, hand in hand.

"She seems quite taken with him," Ella said thoughtfully.

"The Fates help us!" Severus replied fervently as they rounded the corner on to the lane that became, eventually, the main road into Hogsmeade.

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He closed the door to his rooms behind him and sank against it, breathing heavily. He had stopped short of running, he was a man far too in control of his emotions to allow that, but nevertheless his lungs were burning and his heart pounded in his chest. She was carrying his child. His child. A child he had thought he would never have. He straightened and made for the bathroom, where he could splash cold water over his face. He stooped over the marble basin and stared at his reflection in the glass. He wore a haunted expression. Haunted by hopes and dreams that had vanished into the ether long since and would again, of that he was certain.

Back in his bedroom, his eyes were drawn to the sculpture. He made as if to go to it but quickly thought better of it and instead turned from it in agitation in favour of pacing the room. He did not know what she wanted from him, but it was probably the satisfaction of knowing that she had rubbed a little more salt into the wound that used to be his heart. Changing his mind, he made for the sculpture a second time and picked it up, but it simply served to mock him by reminding him of how deliriously close they had been, and so he raised his arm as if to throw it against the wall. But in spite of all that he had learned, still he could not bring himself to cast it aside and so in desperation he placed it on the low table in front of the fire and sat before it as he had done countless times before.

"Vivat!" he whispered as he placed a hand on each of the two exquisitely crafted figures, and they came to life, dancing, moving around one another as he watched, his face twisted with pain.

He was startled by a sudden rap at his door. Of course, he ought to have known that she would follow. No helpless wallflower she. He closed his eyes and flashes of memory passed before them; Ella in the library, refusing to return his book, Ella outside Florian Fortescues, refusing to meet him in the Leaky Cauldron, Ella disarming him of his wand high on a lifeless plateau with fire and determination in her eyes and refusing to give in to the horror and so now, of course, Ella at his door, refusing to let him walk away from her.

"Severus, it's me. Let me in, please. I know you're there." He got up and walked slowly to the door, pausing as he tried to contain his roiling emotions. "Please, Severus! I'll wait here all day if I have to!"

He removed the protective wards and then pulled open the door roughly. Her face was puffy from the tears she had shed and her eyes were rimmed with red, but even with the meagre light given off by the wall sconces they looked greener than ever and he reeled with the mental associations they evoked in him. He had not been this close to her since the Leaky Cauldron, after the trial, and he wanted to drown in the clear green depths of her eyes now, become hopelessly lost in the verdant forest of her gaze and never see the cold sunlight again. He turned away quickly and went over to the window, turning his back on her to hide the raging need in his own eyes.

"Come to twist the knife a bit more?" he said bitterly as he sensed her come up behind him.

"I never wanted it to happen," she began. "I couldn't help myself. It was - a psychosis. Paranoia. I couldn't stop thinking about Phoebe and my parents, how I wasn't there when they died - it all got mixed up inside my head, until it was as if I needed this baby, like a second chance - and it was yours, part of you, and I love you!"

"Love me? Hah!" No, she would not have treated him so badly if she had loved him. Surely there could be no justification for what she had done.

"I want this baby so much, Severus. All my instincts were telling me so, and I had to do all I could to protect it,"

"From me?"

"Yes! From everyone! I was behaving totally irrationally, I know that now. But Sirius helped me through it, and-"

"Oh, bloody Sirius!" he spat, unable to bite back the interjection.

"He helped me! He made me realise I needed help, he made me see a doctor."

"Why did it have to be him, of all people?"

"Does it matter who it was?"

He was silent, brooding now. Her hold on him was still so strong that in complete contradiction to his internal dialogue he had been on the verge of turning to face her and letting her do with him as she would rather than continue to deny himself her love. But then she had to mention Sirius bloody Black, and once more he was pulled sharply back into a quagmire of seething jealousy. Ella, of course, was nothing if not persistent and the next thing he knew she was right behind him, slipping her arms around his waist. The contact made him stiffen, but he had for so long craved her touch that he knew he could not push her away. She held him, splaying her hands across his chest and pressing herself against him so that the swell of her belly, the belly that was home to his child, pressed in to the small of his back. His head was swimming as he fought to control himself and he was just beginning to regulate his breathing when he felt it. A brief nudge against the curve of his buttocks. He flinched instinctively. Even though he had never felt such a thing before, he knew what it signified.

"What was that?" he said carefully.

"That was your child, love."

With a shuddering intake of breath, he reached out to the stone lintel and grasped it convulsively.

Oh, Ella!

She loosened her grip on him and he felt her hand on his shoulder.

"Turn around, love? Let me introduce you."

He sagged and turned round to face her, staring into her eyes and at a loss. He did not know what to do. He had felt their child move, and he was struck dumb. Ella unfastened her robe and shrugged it off to reveal for the first time her swollen belly, a dark green sweater stretched tight over it. His eyes had dropped to it and his breath hitched in his throat as she reached for his hand and placed it on her. His fingers splayed out over her, and he was awestruck.

As the baby kicked again, his eyes widened in surprise and he sank to his knees, lifting the sweater and looking up questioningly into Ella's eyes before pressing his cheek against her satiny skin. He snaked his left arm around her, pulling her to him while his right hand caressed and pressed her stomach as he acquainted himself with his child. He could feel fluttering against his long, sensitive fingers and he closed his eyes, concentrating on the incomparable phenomenon of life secreted away inside her. He felt her hesitant touch as she began to stroke his hair and he pressed his cheek more closely to her, allowing her the comfort it appeared to give her, and accepting that he himself savoured it too.

He stayed on his knees, holding her fast to him. His arm curved round her thigh and up across her buttocks and his fingers rested across the base of her spine, holding her firmly and intimately, as a lover would. He had been her lover. He could have been her husband, once. Kneeling at her feet as if in supplication, he was halfway to begging her to mean what she said, to prove that she would not leave him again, but he could not bring himself to speak. He did not want to break the spell, wanting to maintain the contact with his baby and with his love. She began to stroke his hair back from his temples and her tenderness made him want to weep.

Her fingertips brushed the top of his cheek and sent shivers through him, and as time passed and the room brightened with the joyous dawn she murmured softly,

"Severus, I need to sit for a while..."

He released her abruptly and rose to his feet, turning swiftly away from her in order to hide the raw emotion that surely shone in his eyes. The spell was broken, and while he did not regret his show of vulnerability he felt obliged to mask it well, if words were to be spoken.

"Lie down over there," he said tersely, gesturing towards their bed. His bed. "You should probably try to get some sleep."

"Will you join me? Hold me again?"

Her gentle touch on his arm was more now than he could bear, reminding him of happier times, and he replied stiffly,

"No, I don't think so. Go on."

She looked into his eyes beseechingly but he dropped his gaze and took a further step back. It was safer that way. He watched her climb reluctantly into bed with an almost irresistible urge to follow, to curl up behind her and spoon his body into hers, bury his face in the fragranced softness of her hair and lose himself in the bliss that was her embrace. He did not, of course. He watched over her from the relative safety of his armchair, unable to let himself join her, equally unable to let her out of his sight.

Once he had satisfied himself that she slept, by listening carefully to the yearningly familiar rhythm of her breathing and unconsciously regulating his own so that they breathed as one, he rose to his feet and picked up the sculpture from the low table beside his chair. He replaced it on the mantelpiece and then walked silently around the bed. She was lying on her side with one hand resting protectively over her abdomen. Relaxed in sleep, she snuggled into his pillow with the hint of a smile accentuating her beauty. He almost gave in to the irrepressible need to hold her, his hands reaching out as if to draw her into his arms, but he forced himself instead to stand and stare, greedily taking in every detail of her face, making the most of a luxury long denied him. When at last she stirred in her sleep and wriggled over until she faced his chair, he leaned over her and pulled the counterpane until it covered her shoulders. He let his hand drift across her hair as he withdrew, and then he left her bedside and settled once more into the calming familiarity of his seat by the fire, remembering the time he had kept a constant vigil over her as she thrashed feverishly in his bed. Now she was still and serene and that might as well have been a lifetime ago. Would that he had a time turner, so that he could go back to those heady days where their love was a newly printed book, pristine with its wonders waiting to be revealed. He would read it so differently now, and the denouement would make his heart sing with joy. Better than the cacophony of grief and rage that drowned his every thought.

The morning grew old, and she slept on. Snape sat, and watched, and waited, and thought. He felt as a man who stood at the edge of a precipice. It would be so easy to take the dive and fall back into her, to abandon himself. He ached to do it. He went over and over it in his mind's eye, the slow ascent from his chair, the five or six hesitant steps across to his bed, climbing up to lie beside her, drawing her sleeping form into his arms, empty too long; and then the kiss, oh, the kiss that would follow, the softness of her lips and her sighs, the love in her eyes. He could almost taste her, so potent were his memories and his desires.

But he did not move. She had done nothing to earn his forgiveness and he had to keep himself reined in, controlled, impassive. Safe. He had spent weeks in a state of unremitting misery and while the routine he had enforced upon himself in order to cope with her loss was far from satisfactory, consisting as it did of black depression and angry wakefulness, it nevertheless saw him through from one day to the next and allowed him to fulfil his teaching obligations. He did not expect that his life would get any easier, but he was swiftly coming to the conclusion that another rejection by Ella would make it too unbearable for even one such as he to endure.

Then again, there was the ghost of a chance that if she was able to persuade him that her volte-face was sincere, persuade him beyond any shadow of doubt that he need not fear the abandonment he so dreaded, perhaps they could find their way back to one another. A thrill ran through him at the thought of a chance of happiness, but he wasted no time in dismissing it; at least, until he could decide how best to guarantee it.

By the time she awoke, having slept for over three hours, he was even more determined to reject her again. He had placed his trust in her once, wholeheartedly and contrary to everything that he was, and she had trampled him underfoot. He would not make that mistake again. He had to make it clear to her that their relationship was dead and buried and should remain undisturbed. He had to shun her and he had to turn his back on his own child.

If she fled from his cruelty, unwilling and unable to weather the storm of his rejection, then he would be vindicated and his sorry excuse for a life would go on until Charon took him on what would be a longed-for journey. He did not deserve her anyway, would never deserve her, so a second chance for them ran against all the odds.

On the other hand, if she stood her ground and refused to be cowed by whatever spleen he chose to vent at her, if she fought to regain his trust and his love, then he might be able one day to allow himself to trust her. It was not pride, it was not underhand, it was not Slytherin, it was not manipulative. It was self preservation, no more and no less, for if he allowed her back into his life too easily then she would be his destruction. Losing her had been bad enough and would be again, but to lose a child as well, his child, would be unendurable.

He heard the rustle of the crisp linen sheets as she stretched out her arm.

"Severus...Severus?"

His face drew itself into a frown. His name was the first word to cross her lips as she awoke and its sweet sibilance sent tremors rushing down his spine.

"Over here."

"Oh, Severus, you're here!" she said with relief, he noted, sitting up and swinging her legs over the edge of the bed.

"I wasn't about to go anywhere," he asserted coolly, ignoring the frisson he felt at her bright eyed enthusiasm at his presence. "I didn't want to have to worry about you waking up and running around the school trying to find me. Someone might have seen you."

"Oh. Well, why shouldn't anyone see me?"

"Because you are quite noticeably pregnant, and if you were seen then your dirty little secret would be out!" he said mordantly, leaning forward in his chair, one hand on each arm. "And I know how you love to have your little secrets!"

Her eyes widened in surprise. She had evidently been expecting a less hostile reaction.

"Oh, Severus, please! Have you been sitting there all this time, brooding about this? I thought I explained it all last night."

"Oh, you did, very eloquently, very persuasively. The little kick was a nice touch, very clever. Worthy of a Slytherin, even!" He noticed her bristle at his tone and he continued, allowing pure vitriol into his voice. It was surprisingly easy to do. He did still loathe her for what she had done to him, after all. "But I have my position here to consider, don't I? It wouldn't be seemly for you to go gadding about the school looking like that, would it?"

"Seemly?"

"Yes, everybody would know that you're carrying my child, and they already know that we aren't together any more. What a laugh they'd all get," he continued acidly.

"Not together? But Severus, I want us to be together! I thought you did too! That's why I came back to you!"

"I told you not to bother! And now, what I want is for you to leave here and never come back!"

His voice was harsh and grating, and his mouth twisted as he tried to regain his composure. He glared at her and she held his gaze in horrified disbelief. Finally he continued in a low voice,

"I want to forget I ever laid eyes on you."

She did not believe him, crossing over to him rapidly and kneeling at his feet, her hands on his knees.

"I know that's not true, Severus," she insisted, clutching at the emerald around her neck and holding it up to him. "You gave me this, remember? Do you think I haven't seen you? Do you think I haven't known how you've been suffering? And I know you. Like no one else ever has. So don't pretend!"

He did not want to look at her so he leaned back in his chair and covered his eyes with his hand, saying tiredly,

"Just leave, Ella, can't you? I doubt very much that you're here to stay this time anyway, so why must you insist on prolonging the agony?"

She grasped his wrist and pulled his hand away from his face. "No! I've run away from you too many times, I'm not going to do it any more! I know what I've put you through. But I have a lifetime to make it up to you. Please. Let me."

Such infernal stubbornness.

"You can't seriously expect me to take you back!"

"Maybe not, but even so, I want you to, more than anything!"

He wanted it too, but he could not. Now was not the time for weakness, and he was still too shocked and too angry with her to relent. She had done nothing to regain his trust. Nothing. He looked around the room uncomfortably, anywhere in order to avoid having to look at her, because he could see that she had no intention of giving up just yet. She used his knees to support herself as she struggled to her feet, and he forced himself to remain still as she climbed awkwardly on to his lap. Closing his eyes as if that way he could shutter out the sensations he gripped the arms of his chair as he felt her weight bear down on him, felt her body press to his, her arms twining around his neck, her lips on his hair. She held him fast to her chest and then he could resist no more, the sweet softness and the scent of her impelling him to embrace her. He buried his nose in the deep valley of her breasts, as he had done so many times before, and, hesitantly and against his better judgement, he held her close, allowing the invasion of all his senses, allowing her to surround and envelop him.

"Oh! Oh, Severus, I've missed you so much!"

His grip tightened around her and his breath caught in his chest. She was manoeuvring him into taking her back, knowing his weaknesses and preying on them just as surely as the Dark Lord would do. His eyes snapped open. He could not, would not give in to her. She had wronged him and he was in no mood to forgive and forget. He doubted he would ever forgive her, for she had betrayed him in the worst way possible. She had shown no faith in him, and had deceived him for weeks. He was justified in turning her away, and the timeous reminder of Voldemort's manipulations enabled him to break her spell, for now. He released her, pushing her carefully from his lap so that he could stand up. He brushed his hair back from his face with affected carelessness and said formally,

"Stay for now, then, if you must. Your old rooms are waiting for you, and Poppy will want to examine you. I take it I am the last to know about - about the baby?"

"No, hardly anyone knows."

"Hmph! That won't last long. The word will no doubt spread like wild fire."

"Can't I stay here, with you?" she pleaded.

"No. You said yourself, once, you were only here by invitation." That was good. Turning her own words back on her meant that she could not reasonably contradict him, and had the added advantage of stinging her with their cold cruelty.

"Will you come with me?"

Persistent as ever, he thought, and wondered how difficult he would have to be before he drove her away for good.

"I'm sure you can remember the way. Oh, and wear your robes at all times, they disguise your - condition. And try not to be seen too much."

He could not afford to let himself be moved by the unspoken questions in her eyes or the tear that threatened to spill down her cheek. Instead he folded his arms and stood watching her slip on her shoes and cloak, and leave.

Once she had gone he stood and stared at the door for a very long time.

After a while, the shock and disbelief that kept threatening to overcome all rational thought receded a little, and he began to go over the events of the few months since Christmas. It was painful, but he cast his mind back to Ella's many mood swings of that time. Naturally enough, he had dismissed them as part of the after-effects of her ordeal with Voldemort, and her discovery of his own part in the deaths of her parents and sister. Now, with the benefit of hindsight, he could see all too clearly that the signs had been there, had he not been so riddled with guilt and fearful of losing her that he had deliberately blinded himself to them.

He remembered the day he had come across Ella in the Infirmary, and her explanation that she was there for some gynaecological matter. He had accepted her words at face value. What if he had not? What then? He cursed the fact that his aptitude as a Legilimens did not extend to reading the woman he loved. If she had not been so closed to him then none of this sorry mess need have happened.

If others, too, had seen fit to point it out to him it could all have been avoided, he realised. As he sat on the edge of his bed he realised that not only had the Headmaster known - must have known, in order to expedite her transfer to Beauxbatons so quickly - but Poppy Pomfrey had evidently been in possession of all the facts, and probably ever since Ella's and Miss Granger's rescue. Poppy Pomfrey, the woman who had been entrusted with maintaining his wellbeing for more years than he cared to remember, had not seen fit to safeguard it in this instance. He had been betrayed most cruelly.

He strode purposefully along the corridors, determined to tackle Madam Pomfrey before the luncheon bell sounded. He had no appetite today, and by the time he had finished with her he doubted that she would either. He thrust open the doors to the empty infirmary and shouted her name.

"Pomfrey! Where are you? I think we need to have a little chat!"

"In here, Severus!" she called from her office, puzzled at his tone, her head poking out through the half open door. She retreated inside as he stormed towards her, fearful of the threatening black scowl that marred his features.

"Why did you not see fit to tell me about my child?" he barked, his lips drawing into a tight line as he loomed over her. She sank into the chair beside her desk and her eyes dropped.

"Oh dear!" she said, shaking her head. "Oh, Severus, has she come back?"

"Yes! She came back in the night. She had quite a lot to tell me, Poppy!"

"How is she, dear?"

"How is she?" he repeated tightly. "How is she? How, indeed! She tells me that she is pregnant, Poppy, that is how she is! She tells me that she was delusional, and that she thought her life, and her - our - baby's life was in danger! From me! And how do you think I am, hmm? After all this time, to discover such a thing? To see her again after everything she - how do you think I am? Why didn't you tell me?"

"I couldn't, dear, it wasn't my place," Madam Pomfrey apologised.

"Not your place? How many years have we known one another, Poppy? How many times over do I owe you my life, or at least the use of many of the more major of my bodily functions?"

"Ella wanted to tell you in her own time, Severus. I had to respect her wishes. But I must say, I had no idea what she was going through...the poor dear!"

"But she didn't tell me! She left me instead!"

"I couldn't help that!"

"You've let me suffer, all this time, and never once thought to tell me?"

"It was for Ella to tell you, and now she has."

"Several months too late! I just - I still don't see why you couldn't have told me!"

"I keep telling you, it wasn't my place!"

"What, even after she'd gone? Have you any conception of what I've been through?"

"Well, if what you say she's told you is true, I wouldn't have done either of you any good if I had told you!"

"But I could have gone after her!"

"And what would that have achieved, Severus? Listen to what you're saying."

"Gah!"

"You had to wait for her to come back to you. And now she has."

"Oh, so now you're saying I should welcome her back? I might have known you'd stick up for her."

The door was pushed open behind him and he wheeled round ready to lash out at whoever had had the gall to interrupt them. It was Ella, and his hands balled into fists as he fought the urge to beat them into the desk in his frustration. She addressed Madam Pomfrey, but she looked at him.

"I've come for a check, Madam Pomfrey, now I'm back. I could come back later if it's not a good time."

Madam Pomfrey sank into her chair gratefully and said,

"It's a perfect time, dear, now that both of you are here together. Severus, would you like to hear your baby's heartbeat?"

He tore his gaze from Ella and scowled at the stupid woman, his features twisting with conflicting emotions. Of course he wanted to hear it, he wanted nothing more. He also wanted to know that Ella was his happy ever after, and he wanted to know whether or not the Fates would grant his wish or continue to mock him for the rest of his days.

"No, I would not!" he retorted vehemently, and before they could object, he brushed past Ella and swept out, slamming the door behind him as he went.

He was halfway to Albus Dumbledore's office when he changed his mind. The red mist of anger that fogged his mind had obscured his rational thought processes, but as it dissipated he decided that he was no longer in any mood to confront the old man. He took a left turn into a quiet corridor that he knew led to a staircase which would give onto the first floor landing of the east wing. Thence, it would be only a short walk to the dungeon stairs. The staircase, however, had different ideas and as soon as Snape stepped on to it, it began to grind slowly into life, shifting until it was obvious that Snape would be making his descent to the landing on which stood the huge stone phoenix. What was more, Albus Dumbledore was standing at the foot of the stairs, waiting for him.

"Ah, there you are, dear boy!" he smiled expansively. Snape glared at him. "Would you care for tea and crumpets?"

"Of course, Headmaster," he replied stiffly, inclining his head. It was fruitless to demur. He might have decided he did not want to see Dumbledore until he had had a chance to take stock of his new situation; the Headmaster and the school obviously had other ideas. He followed in the wake of the Headmaster's long purple cloak like an angry cleric given cause to regret his vocation.

Once they were settled into the two cosy armchairs that flanked the fire in Dumbledore's office, Snape broke his sullen silence.

"She's back, Albus."

"Indeed she is, Severus."

"Why didn't you tell me she was pregnant? I assume that you knew all along?"

"You assume too much. I found out only after Sirius returned some few weeks ago."

"Why wasn't I informed at that time, Albus?" he asked coldly.

"I did not consider that it was in your best interests."

"And you would presume to know what my best interests are."

"In this case. It would not have profited you, had you gone after her before she was ready."

"Ready? Before she was ready to do what? Come home? What makes you think I wanted her to come back, Albus? I never want to lay eyes on her again!"

"Ah. I see. And have you told her this?"

Snape glared at him.

"Yes. This morning. But I don't think - I'm not - I must make a greater effort to convince her of my sincerity in the matter."

To Snape's chagrin, the Headmaster chuckled to himself.

"And so, now she is back, you intend to drive her away?"

"Yes. I have no choice."

"Oh, there are always choices, Severus. But I imagine this time you are ensuring that it will be her choice that dictates your future, aren't you?"

Snape fumed as he made his way back to the dungeons. He barely even noticed the small groups of students scatter before him as he trod the staircases and the corridors impatiently. The Headmaster had shown no remorse whatsoever about his treatment. There had been no words of apology, no regret at the deliberate withholding of information vital to Snape's wellbeing. It was as if Dumbledore cared nothing for his finer feelings. Indeed, he had even appeared quite gleeful when he had bade Snape goodbye, brushing down his robes of the greasy crumbs of buttered crumpet and commenting on how he was greatly looking forward to dinner that evening.

Snape was not looking forward to it at all. He spent the remaining hours alone in his room, determined to strengthen his resolve and conceal his emotions. He had a fearsome reputation to uphold and recent events had compromised his position grievously. That would change, now that Ella was back. She would not be able to capitalise on any chink in his armour, if there was none there.

He took a great deal of care in his preparation for dinner that night. Every item of clothing, every row of buttons, was another layer of protection. He had spent too many weeks taking his clothing for granted without pausing to consider what it could represent. From now on, nobody, least of all Ella, would be left in any doubt. He smiled sardonically to himself as he adjusted his collar, allowing just an inch of the white shirt to show under his chin. He was impregnable. Immovable. Determined. Wrathful. He would drive her to her knees until she begged him to forgive her, and he would enjoy their mutual suffering.

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AUTHOR'S NOTE

Thanks to everyone reading. I hope you are enjoying it.

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