A Merciless Affection

In case you've forgotten what's been happening, I'll give a quick story summary. (Although you could always go back and re-read, hint, hint.)

Severus and Sarah went to live in Knockturn Alley for the summer, where we learned that their old enemy, Isaac Connor, was looking for revenge. After another run-in with Bellatrix Lestrange, Severus decided it would be safest if he "officially" married Sarah (who was pretending to be a relative of Miriam's). This happened none too soon, because Voldemort discovered Sarah's pregnancy when they came before him to be told about Draco's task. Voldemort ordered that the baby be given to Sarah's cousin Chester Nott and his wife Niniane for fostering. Upon learning that Sarah feared what Fiona might do to a child of Severus's, Voldemort forced a resentful Fiona to make an Unbreakable Vow to satisfy Sarah's anxieties. Back in Knockturn Alley, Dumbledore visited the flat to learn about Voldemort's latest plan and to inform Severus that he was being promoted to Dark Arts professor and that Slughorn would be teaching Potions.

Chapter 55: Did You Think That I Had Left You For Good?

As Professor Dumbledore had predicted, an owl arrived two days later. As Severus read the letter it bore, his face grew redder and redder, until he finally threw the parchment down on the table and began pacing the room.

"How dare he even ask..." he raged. "He has no business...." He lapsed into furious speechlessness.

"What does he want?" Sarah asked. She reached gingerly for the letter, fearful that Severus would snatch it out of her hand. But for once he ignored her prying into his business, as he continued to pace, his whole frame shaking with the anger he was trying to control.

My dear Severus, the letter began.

I imagine, by now, Albus has told you that I am returning to Hogwarts. Congratulations, by the way, on the Defense job. Never understood why he hasn't given you the post before. Of course, the things that have happened to other teachers.... But then, you're too sharp to fall prey to that sort of thing, aren't you, my boy?

As my return to Hogwarts has come as a bit of a surprise, I find myself woefully lacking the time necessary to prepare my usual demonstrations for the first day of class. I hope I am right in guessing that you'd already made your own preparations for the year. If not, I shall have to go to the trouble of contacting Corvin Croaker about a Time-Turner. But eating up precious months that way is dreadfully hard on a poor old buffer like me.

I've been told that you do not teach the N.E.W.T. levels just as I did. Perfectly understandable, under the circumstances. But I still believe all the potions I introduce are vitally important for the students to become familiar with. As difficult as it may be to put certain incidents in the past behind us, could I possibly rely on you to complete the preparations for me?

Your old friend,

Horace Slughorn

"What does he mean?" Sarah looked up from the letter, puzzled. She could see nothing, offhand, to provoke such a violent response, although there were hints that Professor Slughorn had thought it might. Putting certain incidents behind them? Her brow furrowed.

"He expects me to help him put Amortentia in reach of bloody Potter's bloody offspring!" Severus spat out.

She remembered now. Slughorn had taught that potion. Severus didn't. She glanced at the letter again.

"You mean he introduces it on the first day of the N.E.W.T. class?" Sarah was stunned. How could the man be so foolish as to tempt hormone-ridden young men and women with such a potion, and at the same time give them two years to perfect it?

"He likes to impress his students with a display of powerful potions." Severus turned around, his face less red than it had been. But his voice was still taut with fury. "As if providing temptations will spur them to do better work!"

"What else does he show them?" It was preferable to have Severus talking, if he would, no matter what he might say, than burning out his anger in other ways.

"Polyjuice Potion, of course. Who would not want to be someone else for a time?" Severus grimaced. "Veritaserum, despite the fact that its use is regulated by the Ministry."

"Because everyone would like to be sure they're not being lied to," Sarah murmured. Severus looked hard at her, and she blinked. "I didn't mean--"

"You are, of course, correct," he growled. "And yet how dangerous the truth can be! Why do you suppose Hogwarts does not offer tutoring in Occlumency and Legilimency to any student who wishes it?"

"It's irresponsible to put such things in front of everyone," Sarah protested. "You never suggested to us that potions would give us power...."

Severus drew himself up to his full, stiff height, as if slightly offended. Suddenly she remembered the speech he had given them on their very first day of Potions. And yet, after that one tantalizing hint about fame and glory, he had always taught Potions as if they were chiefly a matter of academic interest. Perhaps he had expected those who truly desired power--like his Slytherins--to keep those possibilities in mind on their own.

"It isn't necessary to suggest it," Severus sneered, "if you introduce it with the right...flair." It was hard to say if he was referring to himself or to Slughorn.

"So, he expects you to make those potions for him to show off? Even if you have to use a Time-Turner to do it?"

"I won't need a Time-Turner." His face was fading back to a sallow pallor. "I already have the others in preparation."

"You're just going to tell him no, about the Amortentia, aren't you?" It felt curious to be bristling at someone in Severus's defense while he was actually present to see it.

"As if I could!" Severus began pacing again. "As if anyone could deny Horace Slughorn! A fat spider in a wide web, and he has only to touch the threads to ensure that certain people rise or fall in the world." He gritted his teeth. "You'll discover, perhaps, what it's like to have too much talent for him to ignore but too little to offer up to his vanity to gain his sponsorship. And here he is again, asking for a gift. One he knows I can afford."

"Not if it upsets you this much."

"No." Severus shook his head. "The headmaster requested I humor him." His face hardened into displeased and determined lines. "I have no doubt Albus Dumbledore knew exactly what his new Potions master would require."

Sarah frowned, wishing she could do something to prevent him being pressured into brewing the very potion that had made so much of his life a living hell. "I could make--"

"No!" Severus snapped. "I will not permit you to handle the ingredients. In any event, the potions must be made at Hogwarts."

"So, you'll be away again." Sarah sighed, sinking down awkwardly onto her chair.

"Not for long. Amortentia requires more skill than time. I've already begun new batches of Veritaserum and Polyjuice." Neither lasted very long on a shelf. "And the other potion he wants is the Felix Felicis."

"The Felix Felicis?" Sarah's eyes widened. Her N.E.W.T. class learned about the luck potion--as part of a wider study of contraband potions--during their seventh year, with emphasis solely on identifying its effects. They had never been permitted to try making it. She knew that Severus had started a new batch in a corner of his lab, months and months ago, although it had not been ready in time to save her from the Dark Lord. Might not be ready even yet. "He can't possibly mean for them to learn to make it. It's illegal, for one thing. And it's almost as difficult to get right as the Wolfsbane!" Severus had not permitted her to even come near it.

"Yes, and quite beyond Slughorn. The sample he exhibited to the class in my year was off--not enough for a careless eye to catch, but if anyone had drunk it...."

"How horrible! What if someone had tried to sneak in before he got rid of it?"

"I did. How do you suppose I got close enough to it to realize he'd botched it?"

"You were trying to steal it?" Sarah wasn't sure whether to be horrified or impressed.

"I could have benefited from a little luck that year." Severus frowned. "But in fact, I wanted something for comparison when I tried making my own. I was furious when I realized that we'd been played for fools." His brow furrowed deeply.

"Did he know it was wrong?"

"Oh, yes. Why do you suppose he's so anxious for me to make all his preparations for him? He could obtain a Time-Turner easily enough--far more easily than I--and he hardly need live out the full preparation time. A few well-timed visits to a protected laboratory to make the necessary additions would suffice. But if I make the Felix Felicis for him...well, that would give him something worth having."

"Would he use it himself?" One of the reasons the luck potion was classified as contraband--apart from the obvious unfair advantages it gave the user--was that it had dangerous (as well as rather obvious) side-effects, if taken more than once every six months or so. And frequent or prolonged use was fatal. Even if the potion had been ready in time for her first audience with the Dark Lord, she would not have been able to take it again for the second, when she had truly needed it most.

"Wouldn't anyone be tempted, if they feared the Dark Lord was seeking them?" Severus fixed her with a bitter gaze. "But more likely he intends to give it away...in exchange for certain favors, no doubt."

"You won't give him all of it, will you?"

His expression soured further. "One unfortunate problem in bottling Felix Felicis is that once the surface of the finished potion is disturbed, only the first ladleful is active. The rest remains a perfect and beautiful sample for perhaps three hours. But entirely useless."

Sarah sighed. "All that effort for nothing."

"Unless you, as his apprentice, can steal a dose before he does. Which is unlikely, since he will probably hover over it like a dragon guarding an egg. In any event, it does us no good now," he finished crossly.

As his apprentice... No, Severus was right; it seemed unlikely he would trust her that much. The daughter of a known Death Eater. She would be lucky if he let her restock the store cupboard.

* * *

This grim assessment was only confirmed when Sarah's letter from Slughorn arrived the following day. Perhaps the owl had gotten lost, or perhaps it had just taken the man that much longer to decide what to say to his unwished-for apprentice.

Dear Miss Darkglass,

Ordinarily, I'd meet with a new apprentice the week before start of term. But it is quite necessary, this year, for me to travel to school on the Hogwarts Express. I assure you we'll meet at the first available opportunity after I arrive to set up your duties and a study schedule. Besides, I imagine that Professor Snape has given you a lot of information in advance.

Professor Slughorn

And that was all. Sarah had received advertising testimonials that were more personal.

"It may be just as well," Severus said, after reading it, although disgust was evident on his face. "The less he has to do with you, the less likely it is he will discover any of our secrets. And he must not discover them." He fixed Sarah with a sharp look, as if he feared, even after all past evidence to the contrary, that she would slip up. "No doubt he will be more than willing to cede additional aspects of your training back to me as the year progresses, particularly since it was I who originally agreed to your apprenticeship. But we must proceed with more caution than ever. Do you understand?"

"Of course I do!" Sarah snapped. As if Slughorn's offensively evasive letter weren't bad enough, Severus just had to chide her about caution again! "Stop treating me like a child!"

"Then stop behaving like one," he retorted sullenly. Which was profoundly unjust, since his attitude had begun before her outburst.

"If you didn't want to be married to a child, you shouldn't have seduced one!" The words leapt unchecked from an irrational swirl of thoughts spinning around in her head. She was nearly as shocked by them as he was.

"You seemed little enough of a child then!" he sneered back. "I never imagined you would turn out as soft and weak as any other high-born brood-bitch."

The unexpectedly harsh jab brought tears bursting from her eyes. Tears that would only confirm what he had just said. She tried to channel her pain into rage.

"Soft?! Weak?!" she sputtered. "I have withstood more suffering than--"

"Than I?" He was nose to nose with her, his dark eyes glittering. "Do you dare to say you have suffered more than--"

"No!" she shouted. No, she shook her head dazedly; she had not meant to argue with him. Her parents had been like this. She had never, never wanted that. "I didn't mean it! I didn't mean any of it!"

She fled to the bedroom, where she curled up on the bed, sobbing in frustration at this little being who had taken her over--both body and mind it seemed. She had never imagined that carrying a child would do such irresistible things to her emotions. After what seemed a long time, Severus came in and lay silently and rigidly beside her. Fearing his rejection, but too unhappy to do anything else, she turned to him. To her surprise, he took her in his arms and cradled her close.

"Miriam warned me," Severus murmured ruefully. "I can't tolerate this, Sarah. I can't."

"Do you think it's easy for me?" she whispered.

"No more children," he whispered back. "Once of this is enough."

At the moment, she was more than inclined to agree with him.

* * *

Although their argument had left a slightly chill distance between them, Severus delayed his journey to Hogwarts for another week, hovering, it seemed, between his anxiety about leaving Sarah alone and the knowledge that the longer he delayed, the more likely it was the baby would be born in his absence. At last, after drilling Sarah repeatedly in the necessary precautions to secure the flat, he Apparated away, promising to return in less than four days. Sarah was almost relieved to see him go.

As soon as he was gone, she rebelliously put away her Dark Potions texts and pulled out the battered copies of Birthing for the Modern Witch and What to Expect When You're Expecting a Baby Witch or Wizard that Miriam had lent to her. They did not improve her temper, since the very fact she was reading them in preference to her Potions books seemed to confirm that she had become nothing more than a brainless broodmare. But she felt desperate to know as much as she could about what was happening to her. What would happen...or could.

In spite of Miriam's reassurances, Sarah was frightened. Things could go wrong at a birth, even with magic. Magic itself could prove hazardous to a young and fragile life, when it was in the process of separating from the protective shelter of its mother's body. She needed to be as prepared for that as she had been for facing the Dark Lord. She needed to read these books now, while Severus was gone. She could not, had not been able, to bear doing so under his critical eye.

But the flat seemed horribly empty without him. She missed him most at night, although she wasn't sure why. He had become loath to make love to her since their most recent wedding night, out of what appeared to be an unreasonable conviction that it would endanger her or the baby.

No, it was much easier to be annoyed with him when he was away. To be glad that she was free to steal his pillow to prop her legs into a marginally more comfortable position. To have long, uninterrupted hours to pay attention to nothing but the movements inside her womb.

Still, she was unaccountably anxious for his return. The subtle, though increasingly frequent, tightenings of her belly were only preparatory motions, according to Miriam, but even a midwife could not be certain when the baby would be born. Sarah wanted Severus here when it happened. Not, she thought wryly, that he was likely to want to be directly involved in something so thoroughly outside his experience and control.

Carabas, at least, was company for her (speaking of something else outside Severus' control). The little cat had learned to behave himself, but not before infuriating Severus with several more "accidents." The threats her husband had made toward the animal were upsetting, even though Sarah was not sure whether he would really carry them out. Nor was she sure whether she cared about that possibility more for the cat's sake or for Severus's. The little tom was amusing and occasionally affectionate, but he was not remotely as ingratiating as her previous familiar. When he curled up on the end of the bed, Sarah felt contented with his presence. Otherwise, he was just a cat. It frustrated her.

Everything did. She felt like a wing-clipped dragon--huge, hot, immobile and very, very grumpy. She sat most of the time in front of an enchanted fan, reading and trying to work out snags in knitting spells she had not practiced in years. It was vaguely disgusting that watching baby booties grow under the needles was nearly as satisfying as making Wolfsbane.

* * *

When, on the third day, Sarah heard the crack of Apparition outside the door, she hoisted herself rapidly to her feet. "Just a moment!" she called. The wards Severus had taught her could only be lifted by the caster. Sarah had privately worried that she might somehow find herself helplessly in labor, with Miriam locked outside, but she had followed his instructions to the letter. She drew her wand as she advanced toward the door; he would be annoyed if she made him wait in the corridor.

It was not until she had lifted the wards and was pulling the door open that it occurred to her that Severus had not spoken to her in return.

"Expelliarmus!"

Sarah's wand flew from her fingers, and she staggered backward, staring aghast at the fierce face of the man who stood in the doorway.

"Silencio!" he hissed, before she could open her mouth, so that her scream, painful as it was in her throat, was as silent as death. Then he was inside, slamming the door, raising wards of his own.

A lean and hungry frame, slighter than Severus. Coarse, colorless hair. Eyes like slices of olives. A narrow face with a distinctive scar twisting the edge of his lower lip...a lip that was narrowed in a vicious half-smirk of triumph. She had not seen the man in nine long months, except briefly and from a distance, but she recognized him at once.

She had let in Isaac Connor.