Unintended Consequences 2

Chapter 2: A Clever Man's Idea

As the sunlight peeking around the shade on the one window in the room became too bright to ignore any longer, Snape gave up on his futile attempts to get back to sleep. The firewhiskey he had consumed just before bed had indeed allowed him to drift off to sleep for a while, but it had been a fitful sleep interrupted by nightmarish replays of the night's events. Now that it was becoming light in his room, he knew that he would not be able to return to sleep. Rolling over away from the wall, he swung his legs over the edge of the narrow wrought-iron bedstead and sat up. Elbows on knees, his eyes shut, he waited for the pounding in his head to subside. As it slowly receded to a dull ache, he opened his eyes and stared down at the dull, ancient finish of the hardwood floor.

A grimace contorted his thin lips as he straightened his back, greasy hair parting to reveal his too-pale face. He tried to remind himself that the string of Death Eater arrests and failed raids, and especially the Dark Lord's failure to kill the Potters were good things. Things he had worked hard to accomplish. Just now, though, he was finding it difficult to summon up any enthusiasm for an activity that led him to feel as he did this morning.

Placing one hand on the headboard for balance, Snape stood up, and again waited for the resulting throbbing in his head to pass. At least another hour remained until Madam Sophronia would open her shop. Not that he was at all eager to work. Getting his hands on some of her stock, though, was something to look forward to. Certain things, he realized, he ought not to be without, in the future.

Slowly and carefully, Snape walked past the bed to the battered old wardrobe that stood in the corner opposite his desk. He grabbed a towel off its shelf and went to grab his bathrobe, but then thought better of it. The rumpled robes he has been wearing since yesterday would do for now. A warm shower might actually help him to feel marginally less awful, he thought as he opened the door into the hallway. He hoped that the shower in his floor would be free - the thought of stairs was daunting.

After showering and getting dressed for work, Snape decided to risk the stairs. If he climbed down at a deliberate pace, he found, the throbbing did not return. As he stepped out onto Knockturn Alley, he saw that Madam Sophronia had not yet arrived. Regretfully, he passed by her shop and into Diagon Alley, in search of a cup of coffee to drink while he waited.

Once he got back from the Leaky Cauldron, gratefully sipping his coffee, he saw the shop was open. Stepping in, he wished Madam Sophronia a good morning and walked back to the workshop. He took a vial of Strengthening Solution off its shelf and tossed it back, washing it down with coffee, before walking over to the worktable on which he had left several potions simmering overnight.

As he adjusted the flame under the various cauldrons, and made minor adjustments to the ingredients, he started thinking about improving the Strengthening Solution. It needed something to soothe the nerves, and induce sleep. Combinations of ingredients were not suggesting themselves this morning, however. He could feel his body moving more easily as the potion began to take effect, but his brain was still moving as if through a fog. Tomorrow, he might get somewhere.

Madam Sophronia bustled in from the front room.

"I received a couple more orders by Owl this morning, Severus," she said. "Here, I'll just leave them for you," she added, tacking the papers up on the corkboard above the opposite worktable.

Snape walked over to take a look. His employer tsked disapprovingly as she got a better look at his face.

"Young people!" she exclaimed. "Did you get any sleep last night?"

"I'm fine," he mumbled, a trifle inaccurately.

Madam Sophronia rolled her eyes and hurried back out of the workroom as the bell on the front door announced the arrival of the day's first customers. Snape snatched an order off the board and started to collect the ingredients he would need.

At noon, Snape took the cauldron he had been working on off the flame and set it aside to cool while he was away. Mopping his brow, for it was already very hot in the back room, he walked into the shop.

"Off to lunch, Severus?" asked Madam Sophronia.

"Yes, Ma'am," Snape replied. "I might be a bit late getting back," he reminded her.

"I didn't leave anything brewing that will need attention until I return."

"That's right, you mentioned it yesterday. Say, would you mind stopping by the Owl Post Office in Hogsmeade for me, while you are out?" she asked. "I forgot to send this earlier, and my owl is on an overseas trip." Snape took the offered envelope.

"Certainly. Will regular Owl Post do?" he inquired.

"That will do fine, yes," she said. "Thank you. And enjoy lunch!"

Snape walked out the door and Disapparated, arriving first in Hogsmeade, where he sent off Madam Sophronia's letter and checked his own box. No letters - so his meeting with Dumbledore was still on. The thought that someone might be keeping an eye on his movements crossed his mind as he left the post office. Paranoia was a classic side effect of the Cruciatus Curse, he knew, yet he had relied successfully on his instincts in the past...it couldn't hurt to be cautious. There was no acceptable reason for him to be meeting with Dumbledore this soon after receiving his new assignment. He Apparated, taking special care to do so quietly.

He reappeared with just a whisper of sound behind a dumpster in an alley. Waving his wand, he transfigured his robes into Muggle attire - faded dungarees, graying t-shirt, and scuffed leather jacket. After returning his wand to an inner pocket of the jacket, he stepped out into the alley and walked towards the street beyond. Turning left, he walked a block and found himself in Leicester Square, already teeming with tourists and the lunchtime crowd. It seemed that nobody was following. He strolled through the crowd, stopping on a couple of occasions in front of movie theatres as if to read the listings, unobtrusively checking behind him in the glass windows as he did.

At the opposite end of the square, he headed towards the tube station and turned into the narrow street to the right of the station entrance. Ducking into the alcove of one of the little shops along the street, he Disapparated.

He reappeared, in another alley. Hurriedly, he walked out of the alley and around the corner to a seedy little Muggle pub, for he was running late. The door, its flaking green paint looking more sordid than ever in the harsh light of the August sun, was open. Inside, a large fan in the bar did little more than create eddies in the cigarette smoke that hung thickly in the air.

Albus Dumbledore sat hunched over his ale, his blue eyes darting sideways occasionally to check the time. His fine, antique gold watch and his half-moon glasses contrasted oddly with his purple-flower print Hawaiian shirt and cotton trousers, but the regulars at the pub were by now accustomed to the oddities of Dumbledore's fashion sense. Two baskets of fish-and-chips were slowly congealing on the table in front of him.

Though the fan on the bar did nothing to dispel the heat and humidity, it was not the August heat that caused Dumbledore's impatience. Severus Snape, over the course of several months always punctual to a fault, was already fifteen minutes late for their meeting.

There were, he reminded himself again, many completely innocuous reasons Severus might be late, yet his misgivings remained. A week ago, he had learned from Severus of a planned Death Eater raid. This in itself was not that unusual a circumstance, but the manner in which Severus had learned of it had seemed fortuitous. Perhaps, in hindsight, too much so? Severus had not been a participant in the raid, nor had he overheard it. Rather, a guest at a small dinner party had let something slip. The guest might have had a trifle too much of the elf-made wine from Malfoy Manor's famed cellars. Yet letting information slip was also a way to narrow down the location of a suspected leak. The problem was all too familiar to Dumbledore himself, as he strove, thus far with limited success, to discover the identity of the spy he knew was in the Order.

Dumbledore had acted on the information despite his misgivings; a young mother with two small children was alive today because he had. After all Severus had tried to do over the past months, though, Dumbledore was not willing to continue exposing him to the danger of discovery if it became clear Voldemort's suspicions were aroused. The Order had ways to hide a man more completely than anyone suspected. He resolved he would bring the matter up with Snape, today.

The sunlight streaming in through the open door was blocked momentarily, and Dumbledore saw with relief that it was Severus. He wore his habitual Muggle outfit of old dungarees and t-shirt with a leather jacket. Probably quite uncomfortable in the heat, Dumbledore thought with a twinge of sympathy, but the odd 'tattoo' on Severus's forearm would attract notice even in this place. He waved him over to the table. As Snape approached, Dumbledore noted that he was moving somewhat stiffly, and his eyes were bloodshot.

Snape saw that Dumbledore had already ordered for them both. The sour ale he had, after a few months, learned to tolerate, and a large basket of fish and chips awaited him. His appearance and his look of disgust did not escape Dumbledore, Snape could see. Little did.

"Good to see you, Severus," said Dumbledore with a smile, and a depth of sincerity that gave Snape a twinge of guilt at the lateness of his arrival.

"Good day, sir," he responded as he took a seat. "I'm sorry I'm late."

"I can see the meeting went badly last night. I want to hear all about it, but you need to eat something," said Dumbledore, popping a chip in his mouth. Seeing there was no avoiding it, Snape took a bite of his fish. Very greasy and over salted, but as he swallowed it, he realized he really was hungry.

"The Dark Lord is displeased," Snape said, before taking another bite. Dumbledore waited for him to continue.

"He spoke at length about the bad luck we have been having," Snape added.

"Did he mention any suspicions?" Dumbledore inquired, remembering the promise to himself he had made just before Severus had finally turned up. Snape, who had taken another bite as Dumbledore spoke, shook his head as he hastily swallowed a chip before responding.

"No. He introduced a new emphasis on learning information, trying to turn spies, and infiltrating the Order and Ministry," Snape explained. He stopped to take another bite and wash it down with ale.

"The Dark Lord asked several of us, including me, to stay and receive special assignments," Snape continued. "I am almost certain one was Rookwood, a Ministry employee of some sort, whom I have met at Malfoy Manor."

Dumbledore nodded encouragement as he tucked into his fish.

"I could not hear what was said," Snape continued. "He spoke with Rookwood first. The Dark Lord seemed to make a point of making it clear he favored Rookwood, though. He exempted him from kissing the hem of his robe in the usual way."

"Do you know who the others were?" Dumbledore asked.

"No, I don't know them," Snape said. "I will try to learn more about them as the opportunity presents itself."

"Very well," said Dumbledore. "So, what happened next?"

"He called me up to speak with him," Snape said. He took a sip of ale before continuing, "I have a strange new assignment: to obtain the position of Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher at Hogwarts."

Dumbledore's glance sharpened and his brow furrowed in thought. Strange indeed.

Snape took another bite of his lunch before continuing, "He said I should be able to get the job - there are few candidates, and the fact that you let me go after I heard the Prophecy means that you do not associate me with the Death Eaters."

Snape took a sip of ale, and then placed the glass back on the table and stared at it for a moment.

"It does not make sense," Snape said. He shook his head. "This was true, once. But since I am the only one beside you to have heard the Prophecy, and the Dark Lord now clearly knows it, you would know that the information came from me," Snape explained. The logic still seemed clear to him.

"So you would not hire me," Snape concluded. Dumbledore nodded. That was true. He would hire Snape, but never a man he suspected of connections to Voldemort. Dumbledore waited for him to continue.

"I explained my reasoning to him," Snape said. He looked at the glass again and absently cupped it in his hands. With a reluctance Dumbledore did not miss, he continued, "The Dark Lord became furious with me for having been caught eavesdropping." He paused, his hands clenching.

"After, he told me I was to get the job, or there would be worse," he finished matter-of-factly.

Dumbledore did not press him for the details. Whatever had happened, it was doubtless the reason for his reluctance to speak of that evening.

"So you think we should get you the job," Dumbledore said. With a reassuring smile, he added, "That wouldn't be a problem-"

"I don't know," Snape interrupted him, shaking his head. "The Dark Lord should not believe that you would hire me. He could just be angry with me, but why now? I have a feeling...he's pushing me to get the job, for some reason. Perhaps I am just getting overly suspicious. I Apparated three times on my way here..."

Dumbledore looked at him, considering what Severus had said. "Hmm," he said, before popping a couple more chips into his mouth.

Severus had proved to be an impressively talented student at Occlumency, and was at this point nigh impossible for Dumbledore to read, magically, at any rate. However, his mannerisms, though he fought to control them, revealed his fear. Was this feeling his fear speaking? Yet, yesterday, the young man had presumed to give the Dark Lord a lesson in logic...

"The Dark Lord knows he has given me a scare. He wants to see what I'll do. But I'm not sure what he will conclude if I succeed. If he has suspicions, it might allay them if I fail him in this," Snape explained. Dumbledore saw his hands tense again as he spoke, but his voice remained steady. No, this was definitely his rational side speaking, Dumbledore judged.

"I have had the feeling he suspects a leak in his organization," Dumbledore agreed, "after you so conveniently learned the details of that planned raid last week. It may be time for us to stop. I've not mentioned it before - but, through the Order, I have the means to hide you, rather more completely than you might believe."

"I can still be useful," Snape objected immediately. Perhaps, later, once the Dark Lord's spy in the Order was unmasked.... Snape shoved the thought aside ruthlessly and continued, "I may be out of favor with the Dark Lord however we handle this matter of the teaching position. But that could change, and there are other Death Eaters, to learn things from-"

"Very well, I wanted to make the offer," Dumbledore said. "So, then, were there any further occurrences of note at yesterday's meeting?"

"I," Snape paused, looking for the right euphemism, before remembering his promise to give Dumbledore accurate accounts of his interactions with the Dark Lord, "was thrown out after receiving my orders." He realized suddenly that yesterday, preoccupied with his own difficulties, he had not attempted to write down a detailed account of the meeting. It was his usual practice, and it had permitted him and Dumbledore to deduce the identities of some Death Eaters in the past.

"I don't have a report written up," he added.

"You say you were thrown out. Does this have any special significance, do you think?" Dumbledore asked. Snape took a large gulp of his ale.

"I think it was simply because I was unable to get up when the Dark Lord dismissed me," he said flatly.

"A reasonable supposition," Dumbledore agreed. Not to mention an excellent explanation of his failure to write up a report, as was his usual practice.

Considering all he had heard, Dumbledore leaned back and drank some of his ale. Would hiring Severus appease Voldemort's anger, or would it rouse even more dangerous suspicions of his loyalties? He had already chosen a teacher from the meager pile on his desk for the Defense job, and Severus was clearly at least as capable. No problems on that account. Of course, there was also the issue of the curse. If Severus's success did not rouse Voldemort's suspicions, the revelation of his spying at some point later in the year seemed a likely outcome. Sending Severus back empty-handed was an option, he had suggested it himself, but if it could be avoided...

"I have an idea, about your problem," Dumbledore said, breaking the silence that had fallen after Snape finished his account of the Death Eater meeting. Snape sat up, his eyes intent on Dumbledore.

"I don't want to send you back to Voldemort empty-handed," Dumbledore began. "On the other hand, I see your point about the possibility the assignment is a test, possibly a follow-up to last week's leaked information, if that was deliberate."

"I see a way to reduce the risk of hiring you," he continued. "To make it seem I was forced into it by circumstances. Horace has been making noises about retiring for some time now. He's an old friend; I can lean on him to retire now. Perhaps we could sell the idea that hiring you is a desperate temporary move to solve my staffing problem, while I conduct a proper search for an experienced person to take over for Slughorn." As he voiced the idea, he realized it had additional benefits that had not initially occurred to him. Hiring him for Potions would also open up the possibility to keep Severus at Hogwarts longer that a year, if Voldemort's suspicions continued.

"You mean to hire me for Potions?" Snape asked, surprised.

"And Acting Head of House. Professor Vector has always made it abundantly clear she is not interested in that position, preferring to have more free time for her research. That's why it will work; there might be someone else in the small pile of applications I have sitting in my office who is qualified to teach Potions as well as Defense, but the odds that there is one who was in Slytherin are low. Horace will recommend you. Yes, I like it," Dumbledore finished.

Snape found himself, momentarily, at a loss for words. Dumbledore was serious; he did not doubt it. A memory of the Potions classroom in the dungeons of Hogwarts rose in his mind. He pictured himself standing in the front of the classroom...he could do it, he really could. It was not something to which he had aspired, but then, neither was working in Madam Sophronia's shop. At least, in his classroom, Potions would be made his way.

"But," Snape objected half-heartedly, "Head of House? The older students there went to school with me!"

"I seem to recall," said Dumbledore, his blue eyes twinkling, "that you were not entirely happy with the way the position was handled in the past. This year would be your chance to show how it should be done."

Snape felt his face heating at the oblique reference to his one schoolday's discussion with the Headmaster and his Head of House. It was a memory he preferred to forget. Snape changed the subject.

"The other heads are all twice as old as I," he said. Three times, for most of them, he did not add. "The Board of Governors will surely question the appointment?"

"Hmm, yes," Dumbledore agreed with a smile. As he and Snape examined all the angles, he was beginning to think that this idea was a clever one, even for him. "A group of the Board's members have been causing me some problems. I think you have just the right connections to solve them for me, however." His blue eyes twinkled with amusement.

Of course, Snape realized. Lucius Malfoy would oppose Dumbledore's wishes for the school out of both spite and political conviction. But perhaps not in this case...

"It is Malfoy that needs to be handled, then?" Snape asked.

"Indeed. I have almost all the votes I would need on the Board. With the addition of his party, the appointment would sail through," Dumbledore explained.

"Then I'll send in a letter applying for the Defense position this evening," Snape said, "and get to work on Lucius."

"And I will get to work on managing the matter from my end," Dumbledore agreed.