Anachronism (6/16)
10:13 PM
It wasn't difficult to move the items from the tower to the library. With magic and guidance spells, he was able to send all the books to the library, the scrolls to his desk, the robes to his cupboard, and the toiletries to his bathroom. He left the chess set and the vial of memories along with the photobook. It did not matter to him what had happened before between himself and Potter. That was the past, and he refused to repeat it.
After he had removed everything of importance, he sprayed the room with a mixture of his blood and water, searching for any hidden artefacts. As the last one had been placed under his desk, he began his search around it. After coating the outside surface and finding nothing, he opened a drawer and sprayed the top, only to see a faint glow appear on a small section of the top. Blood magic. He pricked his finger and rubbed the blood against the wood. With a snap, a small plank fell down, and a folded piece of parchment fell out. About the size of Severus's little finger, it had been folded several times to fit into the tiny opening.
Unfolding the parchment, Severus read, "The truth-it is unutterable." On the other side, a series of numbers followed: 11-3-20-20-14-2-3-4-11-9-7-21-14-5-12-15-1-4-17-10-11-3-6-14-5-12-16-9-9-19.
That the numbers represented letters was easy enough to ascertain, but he could not be certain about anything else. He had left this message for himself, hidden and inaccessible to anyone else. To crack the code, he would need to rely on something else that he, and only he, knew.
Glancing around the room, Severus's eyes fell on the book of poetry on his bedside table. Poetry would be a perfect place to hide codes. Each line was numbered, and the letters of the line could correspond to numbers as well. Grabbing the poetry book, he hauled it over to the desk and flipped through the pages. He began with "Invictus," his favourite poem, but could not discern any patterns. Samuel Taylor Coleridge, his favourite author, had no references to the unutterable. The only truth reference Severus could find was in "Christabel," with the lines, "Alas! they had been friends in youth; / But whispering tongues can poison truth; / And constancy lives in realms above; / And life is thorny; and youth is vain; / And to be wroth with one we love, / Doth work like madness in the brain." Was it supposed to be some sort of warning about being angry at Potter? But Potter was not the one he loved. Not now.
After copying the poem to a scroll, he tried to place a letter to each number. After several hours, he had tried every single trick he could think of, and nothing made sense. "Christabel" was not the poem he needed-if it even was a poem he needed.
Tucking the parchment into his robes, Severus searched the rest of the room, but the small note was the only hidden artefact he could find.
Sunday, 23 May, 1:00 PM
The swish of the Floo matched the tone of the monitoring charm Severus had placed upon it. Hidden in the foyer, he waited until their footsteps retreated down the hall before he followed.
For four days, Severus had been content to pour himself into uncovering the mysteries of his past. Even if he discovered exactly what had caused his illness and solved all mysteries, there were hundreds of fascinating new books to read, potions discoveries to catch up on, and a brand new, fully-stocked lab to muck about in. True to his word, Potter remained out of his sight, only arriving in the library at seven every night for dinner.
Although they quarrelled on occasion, Potter always backed down before their arguments turned into a full blown fight. Their two hours together each day could hardly be said to entail pleasant companionship, but they weren't as excruciating as Severus had originally imagined them. Potter arrived punctually at seven, never a minute ahead or a minute behind, and never stayed beyond the two hours allotted for their time together.
Was this how their relationship had gone? A regular schedule with certain times to be together and to be apart seemed a rather bizarre way to conduct a relationship, even to Severus, who had no experience in the matter. Even though they did not encounter each other during the day, he knew Potter remained mostly in the house. On the few occasions when he asked Kreacher were Potter was, Kreacher mentioned a room and Severus spied Potter inside, always reading.
This Potter who never left and preferred to sit inside and read was not the Potter he had known. What had caused the boy to change so dramatically since Hogwarts? Was he the same boy?
Severus took to spying. The walls were covered in spells to prevent eavesdropping and surveillance. If Kreacher talked to Potter, Severus could make out their individual voices and identify who was in the room, but he could not distinguish individual words in the conversation. Monitoring spells did not work for the most part except by the Floo, and Severus was not stupid enough to try and place a tracking spell on an Auror. He hadn't Potter's Invisibility Cloak and he dared not steal it while Potter remained Master of the Elder Wand, the account of which he had read in back issues of the Prophet. But he had years of experience, potions, spells and charmed clothing that allowed him to blend into his surroundings. Any experienced wizard could cast detection charms and other counter measures, but Potter, either from lack of knowledge or belief in the sanctity of his home, never cast anything to harm Severus's disguises.
Where Potter slept was the first mystery solved. It was in the room next to the master bedroom, a smaller version of the master decorated in cheery pastels of creams, cornflower blue, and spring green. Paintings of blooming flowers hung on the walls and filled the room with the floral scent of springtime in the country. The white curtains remained pulled back from the windows, letting in an unnatural amount of bright sunlight during the day. At night, Potter opened the windows and slept on his side, curled in a ball with a pillow clutched in his arms, his upper body bare and his lower body hidden beneath the sheets. He did not stir even when Severus collected hair, blood, saliva and skin samples. Potter's deathly sleep would have alarmed him, had he not detected sleeping potions on the boy's breath and in the vials on the bedside table.
In the potions lab, Severus confirmed that the boy had been drugging himself with sleeping potions. If his hair samples were accurate, it was a recent development, occurring within the past three months or so. Aside from the sleeping potions, Potter appeared to be a non-Polujuiced, normal, healthy young man. His blood showed high levels of cortisol, but stress was to be expected in times like these.
Despite all the differences Severus noticed, this was Potter. A very changed Potter, but Potter nonetheless.
His own tests were even less illuminating. His hair sample held sedatives as well, but not nearly to the degree Potter's did. He'd taken Polyjuice before he'd taken ill, but never afterward. The period he judged to be the extent of his illness held remarkably little potion information and none on the cure. It was not wholly unexpected, as a great deal of potion ingredients were flushed from the body after use. Still, he had hoped to find at least a few answers in his hair or blood, but nothing could be detected. He was healthy as well, although his hair showed signs he'd been nutritionally stressed towards the end of his illness-underfed and without the necessary nutrients.
There was also a slight oddity in that, after he conducted a series of blood tests on himself, the traces remaining in the bottom of the cauldron glowed with faint bioluminescence due to the Armillaria. It was an effect he had never seen before when testing samples, but it appeared to be a property of the ingredient rather than his blood.
Even with his tests confirming that Potter was Potter, Severus had been a spy for too long to take anything claimed as fact without a thorough investigation. After the night of the testing, he decided to follow Potter around and see what exactly the boy did when they weren't together.
Potter's day began in the typical way. He woke with a lot of stretching, knocking the sheets to the side and revealing he slept in the nude. He wasn't as hairy as Severus had expected, a small diamond dusting in a triangle on his wide chest and a darker, trimmed nest around his flaccid penis and heavy balls. He staggered to the loo, scratching his arse, and shut the door behind him. After a long shower, he emerged naked and scrubbing his hair dry. For a moment, he stood in the centre of the room, oblivious to Severus's gaze.
A scrawny, almost sickly boy at Hogwarts and when Severus had observed him in the forest, his body had changed dramatically in six years. Wide shoulders gave way to strong arms and a flat stomach with well-defined abs. The only bit of fat on his body appeared to be his round, hairless buttocks above well-sculpted thighs. Even with all his muscular strength, he still remained slender and lean, traces of boyhood still lingering in his trim waist. He could serve as a model for a sculpture of Antinous, Emperor Hadrian's lover.
Was that why Severus had taken up with Potter? Had he been trying to fashion himself after Hadrian, Alexander the Great, or other well-known Greek and Roman emperors famous for their dalliances with young male consorts? It was the only explanation that made any sort of sense to him. Even then, if he were to pick a young man to mould and influence, Potter was not an obvious first choice.
Potter strode straight past Severus to the wardrobe. Emerging dressed in khaki trousers and a powder blue shirt, he returned to the bathroom to finish his morning ablutions before he left for the kitchen for breakfast. Morning was spent reading in the den where he also took lunch.
It wasn't until one, when the visitor arrived through the Floo, that Severus's day became intriguing. He followed them to the patio on the east side of the house. There, through the windows, he spied Lupin joining Potter at a table set for tea. There was no way Severus could listen in on their conversation from his vantage point and both men were facing away, preventing him from reading their lips. If he wanted to know what they were saying, he would have to join them.
Removing a scroll from his robes, he marched through the door, knocking it open with a loud bang.
He paused, as if he'd not expected to see Lupin on the patio.
"Lupin," he said, nodding his head.
"Hello, Severus. It's good to see you," Lupin said with an easy smile. "Would you like to join us for tea?"
The werewolf always acted as if he were on friendly terms with Severus. Even at Hogwarts he had pretended that he didn't care for what his despicable friends did. Severus knew better.
Potter interrupted before Severus had a chance to speak. "D'you need something?"
What a rude child. Potter did not want him there. Why? "I would like a list of all the Potions Masters with whom I was in contact these past six years," Severus said sharply.
Potter winced at the harsh tone. "I'll do my best."
Nodding tightly, Severus swept into the chair farthest from both of them. Lupin still wore shaggy, threadbare clothing. After all these years, the wolf still didn't know how to dress. "What have you done with yourself, Lupin? Have you produced a pack of cubs with that pink-haired nitwit?"
Lupin returned his teacup to his saucer and looked at Severus evenly. "For the last five years I've been living near Greenhead. I work as an assistant manager in a bookshop in a Muggle community called Haltwhistle." Lupin reached for a biscuit and carefully spread some lemon curd on top. "I live by myself, Tonks and I aren't married. In fact, she's married to the head of the Auror Department, and they're expecting a child soon. She's quite happy." Lupin gave Severus another smile as if he didn't mind at all.
Severus could not have been more pleased to learn that Tonks had left him for another man. They were both twits, but anything that hurt Lupin made him happy.
Potter leant forward. "We'd been working on the Wolfsbane Potion for a while and made a few changes to it. After you took ill, I brewed the potion for Remus, but I'm sure he's glad that you're back."
Potter had been making the Wolfsbane? Was Lupin mad? Severus would never accept such a complex potion if Potter were responsible for its creation.
"Yes, I have to say I am relieved that you are feeling better, Severus, no one can brew Wolfsbane quite like you can. The potion I take now isn't as effective and has more side effects than what you made for me."
"What did you expect?" said Severus with a sneer. "You took a potion Potter brewed."
Lupin blinked at Severus's comment, a frown flitting across his face. "Oh, no, Severus, it's not Harry's Wolfsbane that is causing me problems. Harry did a splendid job brewing the potion for me while you were ill. I take the Ministry's version."
"I wasn't able to brew it this past cycle," said Potter, avoiding Severus's face as he selected a biscuit off the tray. "The Ministry uses your old concoction, but they are slow to adapt and haven't tried our newest version yet."
"No worries, Harry. What you and Severus have been going through is of much more importance than making the Wolfsbane for me. The Ministry's version works and I'm able to keep my human mind during the change." Lupin reached for a ham and pickle sandwich and took a bite. "These are quite good. I'll have to give Kreacher my compliments."
Potter grinned over his tea cup. "I had Kreacher make them just for you."
Lupin had disgusting taste in food, but he was part dog after all.3
Kreacher Apparated in. "Master Harry, your package has arrived." He disappeared as quickly as he had arrived.
"Thank you." Potter stood. "If you'll excuse me, I'll be right back."
After Potter had left, Lupin said, "Harry's told me that you've lost your memories of the last six years. I can't tell you how sorry I am, Severus. I can't imagine how disrupting that must be for you along with everything that has happened so far." Remus gazed at his hands, which he clasped and unclasped in his lap. He then looked up and added, "I don't often talk about the War, since it's not the most favourite thing that has happened in my life, but if you would like information about it or just want to talk about it at any time, I'll answer any questions you have as best I can."
Severus did want answers, but he doubted he'd obtain them from a decrepit werewolf. Lupin just enjoyed his position of power, the fact that he knew things that Severus didn't. He would not debase himself by allowing the werewolf that triumph over him. "There is nothing I need to ask you," he said, looking down his nose at Lupin. "If I require information, I have plenty of other sources."
Lupin sighed and said, "I know you won't believe me when I tell you this, Severus, but you and Harry do have a relationship, a very intimate one."
Severus scoffed, but Lupin carried on as if he'd not heard. "No one could believe it when it happened, not even me, but after seeing the two of you together, I couldn't deny it any longer. Even though you aren't one to use such a word as 'love', you and Harry were deeply in love. I could see it and so did your friends.
"Harry loves you, Severus. He loves you with a passion that I've rarely seen. You don't remember what it was like between the two of you, but I do. It hurts Harry deeply, the way you treat him now. He's trying very hard to please you and help you. He wants to be with you; couldn't you at least make it easier for him by treating him with a little respect?"
Lupin never could leave things alone. He always had to stick his snout in other people's concerns and talk as if being part canine gave him greater insight into other people's minds. "I've agreed to live with the brat; that is enough. Leave it alone, Lupin. It's not your concern." Severus waved his hand. "Potter is an adult now. If he wishes to waste his life on a non-existent relationship, that is his choice."
"I'm afraid you're wrong, Severus." Lupin shook his head. "It is my concern. Harry is a good friend, and you and I had outgrown our childish behaviours to the point of my considering you a friend. I don't like seeing either of you hurting and don't tell me you're not hurting. You're unhappy and you're taking it out on Harry."
What did he know, the arrogant jackass? Severus sat in stony silence and waited for him to finish.
"He has been at your side through all of this, doing everything you asked of him and more. Give him a chance, Severus. The boy you remember from Hogwarts is not the same young man now, you've just said so. It's six years later. Why not try and get to know him again?"
His tone cool and even, Severus said, "I made him bleed. I deliberately injured him and still he wants a relationship with me. What do you think it'll take to drive him away from me? Perhaps I should hold him down and push hellesborne spines into him. They can grow up to six inches long, although most are only three to four. Do you think he'd leave me then? Or has he become a masochist? I wonder how many it would take before he would surrender. I suppose it depends where I stick them."
Rather than letting the comments anger him, Lupin sighed. "Harry knows you're having a difficult time adjusting to the loss of your memories. If you did have them, your memories that is, you would know that Harry is extremely forgiving and that, despite what you think of him, he does love you very much. He's proving it every day in the things he does for you. Harry has also always been very affectionate when you're together. To see him restrain himself to the extent he's doing now, I don't know how he does it." Lupin paused and tilted his head to the side, frowning. "The one thing I'm curious about is-haven't you found Harry the least bit attractive since you've regained some of your health? Not even once? I find it hard to believe that some part of you doesn't remember in some way the relationship the two of you had, even if it's not memories. Maybe just a feeling or a scent. I've always been a bit partial to scents myself." Lupin chuckled.
Severus's eyes narrowed. Potter had been wearing some sort of drug that day in Endell's home and Lupin knew about it. What had they given Potter that'd smelt so damn good? He'd not been able to detect anything in his blood stream. Perhaps it'd dissipated too quickly. After all, he'd lost his attraction to Potter's scent, once he stayed out of close range. It couldn't have been a love potion. Potion-produced pheromones were far more likely, although they'd not been properly developed in 1998. He would need to research the subject in his lab.
Potter returned before Severus could respond to Lupin's provocation.
"Sorry about that," Potter said as he dropped into his seat. "A few of the books I ordered just arrived, and I had to sign for them since several are highly restricted."
"Oh yes, before I forget." Lupin reached into his vest pocket and pulled out a small package. Setting the package on the table, he pulled out his wand and tapped the top of it, increasing the size by ten. Putting his wand back in his vest, Remus then passed the wrapped bundle over to Harry. "Here, I brought you some books from the shop that I thought you might find interesting. They weren't easy to get, but my manager has a knack for finding books that are difficult to acquire. Makes the shop a very interesting place to work in, with all the obscure books that pass through." Remus's eyes shone.
Potter smiled, a genuine one, and said, "Thank you very much. I can't wait to read them."
They were in cahoots, and Severus would get nowhere wasting time with them. Who knew what was in those books? He stood and left, heading straight to his lab. He would not be controlled by the werewolf and a child young enough to be his son.
Friday, 4 June, 9:43 PM
Pushing open the heavy doors, Severus sucked in huge lungfulls of fresh air. The glass doors shut out the ruckus of the party. A peacock was screeching off in the distance, but otherwise the night landscape around Malfoy Manor was in a state of peaceful quiet.
He'd never expected to attend an event worse than a Death Eater gathering. At least with the Death Eaters, he'd known where they stood, how they would act, and how he could best manipulate the scene.
Here he didn't know how to deal with Weasleys and Malfoys at the same event. Of course, the two families avoided each other. Each pretended the other didn't exist; however, there were many who moved between the families, conversing with members of each. Unlike during Horace's parties at Hogwarts, the Houses mixed beyond the routine greetings and necessary conversation. Draco and Potter were chatting on a sofa while the hors d'oeuvres floated around the room on silver salvers. Lucius, Kingsley, and Williamson gathered near the bar, discussing business and politics with men Severus didn't recognise. A group of young women representing every House stood in one corner, giggling and casting eyes on the single men.
Everyone at the party, all four Houses, expressed delight to see Severus in attendance. It had been impossible to escape the crush of attention at first; almost everyone wanted to shake his hand and speak with him.
He had always wanted recognition and fame, but the constant parade of handshakes and well-wishes from hundreds of individuals-many of whom he didn't even recognise-quickly grew dull. As soon as he had the opportunity to escape out onto one of the many balconies, he slipped away.
Of course, the perfect quiet didn't last long. The doors opened of their own accord and Narcissa glided through.
"Severus," she said with a nod as ribbons wove through her hair. "Forgive me for not calling earlier, I assumed you were busy."
Or she wanted to wait until she could be associated with his unveiling at a party few would ever forget. Not that he minded-the more he helped her, the more she would help him. Severus allowed a small smile to grace his lips and said, "My work has consumed my attention; however, I always have time for friends."
Smiling, she swept over to join Severus at the railing. Silken shades of blues and greens cascaded down her shoulders, over her breasts, picking up colour and speed as they flowed down her body, puddling in a dark blue around her feet. "How have you progressed in your hunt for knowledge?"
Turning back to the railing, he took of a sip of scotch before he replied, "Fairly well. I've decided to explore all theories regarding my illness, which has slowed my investigation somewhat."
"Mmm," she hummed, staring at him over the rim of her champagne flute. "I've heard a few theories myself. Some believe it was an accident, while others think it was an attack on you or Harry."
Potter? It was such a new idea to him that he couldn't help but ask. Besides, she would love knowing that she knew things he didn't. Raising his eyebrows, he asked, "An attack on Potter?"
Her smile widened, and she bent her head towards Severus as if about to share a secret. "Mr. Potter is quite effective as an Auror-no doubt due to your aid. Not many outside of the inner circle are aware of your role in his Auror investigations, only that you and he jointly own a potions company."
"How could they not know? I visit the crime scenes."
"Of the potion crimes," she clarified, shaking her head. "There aren't that many of those; few wizards have your talent."
Such generous helpings of compliments could only mean one thing: Narcissa wanted something. But what? In the past, her family had been her primary concern and focus, but now she and her family members chatted casually with the boy who could give them the affection of the wizarding world. Other than potions, there were few things he could provide for her that Potter couldn't.
Narcissa peered at Severus as if she could practice Legilimency without needing eye contact. "You've always had a legal 'elasticity' when offering your wares. Many who would otherwise be hostile to your alliance with Harry have found you to be generous." Her small smile widened, and she added, "Within reason, of course. Harry overlooks some of your ... trespasses, but he has always remained a Gryffindor."
"Quite," sneered Severus, glancing back through the glass doors at the people inside. The Weasley chit had draped herself over Potter's arm as he stood, conversing with Astoria Greengrass. If Astoria hadn't changed since Hogwarts, she was a social climber who hoped to land herself a rich husband with the expressed goal of increasing and spending his wealth.
"I imagine," said Narcissa, shifting to stand close to him, "that must have been the most difficult part to accept."
Glancing at her, Severus searched her face to gauge her reaction, but the lack of disgust in her eyes or lips suggested she did not disapprove. How could she not find his actions abhorrent? She had a son Potter's age!
Lifting his eyebrows, he asked her, "You see nothing wrong with me buggering the boy?" Although he knew he was crossing a line, he added with a slight sneer, "Shall I date his classmates as well? Perhaps my new companion will be a Slytherin."
A well-plucked eyebrow arched. She smiled, and he braced for her attack. Raising her glass up to sip from it, she said in a warm voice, "My, Severus, you have always been quite ambitious. I must admit, I thought you were over-reaching yourself with Harry, but you proved me wrong. Perhaps you could find another lover equivalent to or better than Harry. You must tell me your secret. I’m sure my son could learn a few tricks from you."
Trust Narcissa to deflate his ego. He'd never thought himself handsome, but she was right; he did not have much to offer a prospective partner. Ugly and poor were not two combinations that went well together, especially when the individual in question had a criminal record. Although he was highly intelligent, too few viewed intelligence as an important attribute for a mate. He could not be more opposite from Potter. The wealthy, powerful bachelor had no trouble attracting beautiful women and handsome men.
Although Severus still had no good reason for why he'd chosen to fixate on the boy, the even greater mystery was why the hero of the wizarding world had chosen him. Of all the possible partners for Potter to choose, an ugly, scarred Death Eater old enough to be his father had to be at the bottom of that list. Even without the complications of their past history, they had nothing in common, no reason what-so-ever to form a relationship.
Unless the boy was a masochist. Severus repressed a shudder. Sex with Potter was a vile thing to think about.
Narcissa sipped her champagne, watching Severus with the perfect expression of feminine innocence and warmth. Rather than attempt a counter-parry, Severus admitted defeat. For now. Later, when he knew more about this future world, he would give her the insult she waited for with a guiltless smile on her face. He shrugged and calmly said, "Gryffindors are easy prey, and I prefer a challenge."
She gave a nod of agreement. "It is amusing to play with them. It surprises me that you haven’t played with Harry yet. It’s unlike you to not take advantages of opportunities."
Not her too! If anyone would object to his relationship with Potter, it should have been her. The entire world had turned against him! Severus sniffed as if he had smelt something distasteful, and in a bland voice said, "I'll always turn down a plate of rotting meat, no matter how beautifully it is presented."
Narcissa shook her head and swept to the door. "Do give it a try," she purred as she took her leave. "You're such a bore when you've not had any for a while."
Saturday, 5 June, 8:13 AM
Severus paused on the street, reading the numbers twice to confirm what he already knew. He had arrived at the home of Brigit Endell. After Narcissa's comments at the party, Severus had headed straightaway to the Ministry to call up the list of those who had filed any formal legal complaints against Potter. Although they still had not received permission for Severus to examine Endell's corpse, the friendly witch in Records had handed him a huge scroll without question.
While most of the complaints referred to frivolous offences committed during Hogwarts, false atrocities added by Death Eaters during the period when the Ministry was under the Dark Lord's control, or the imaginings of nuts such as the witch who'd accused Potter of turning into a hedgehog and rooting through her garden, there were a few notations that caught Severus's eye, including the name of Brigit Endell, the poisoner's mother. She had filed a harassment complaint against Potter earlier in the year, on the fourteenth of January. As Potter had not mentioned the woman in any capacity other than her relationship to her son, Severus had come to visit her to see why Potter had harassed her.
She lived in the same place Corey Endell had been born, the only place she'd ever lived outside of Hogwarts and her parents' home. About fifteen miles south of Corey's home in Stockport, her small, but well-kept bungalow sat in Macclesfield, Cheshire.
Unlike the rest of the bungalows on the street, Mrs. Endell's door was of solid, white-painted wood as if someone had forgot to carve the windows. Suspecting that magic hid the glass, Severus rapped his knuckles on the wood nearest to the doorknob.
After a few seconds, a high voice called, "Who is it?" from behind the closed door.
"Jonathan Evans," answered Severus, holding up the forged identification that labelled him a claim investigator from the Ministry of Magic in case she was using a spell to observe him. The picture on the scroll matched the Polyjuiced face he wore. "I’m here to investigate the complaint you filed against a Mr Harry Potter."
"I filed that in January," she said through the door in a voice thick with asperity. "Why wait until now?"
"Other accusations of witness harassment have been made and-"
The door swung open, revealing a small, thin woman with fly-away, chestnut-coloured hair that was liberally sprinkled with grey strands, and tired, dark blue eyes. Although she was only fifty-six, deep wrinkles etched in her skin gave her the appearance of a permanent frown. The faded, floral-print dress didn’t help the matter. It hung off her pale, freckle-spotted skin, while her spindly arms and legs protruded from the fabric like stork legs.
She looked him over with an eye that seemed determined to find no favour. Pressing her thin lips together, she motioned for him to enter. "Come in." Turning, she shuffled to a well-worn armchair in her sitting room.
He stepped in, and the sharp smell of Muggle cleaning products mixed with warm, dusty air hit his nostrils. The sparse furniture looked as though it had been purchased when Endell had been born. Although there were no rips, tears, stains or broken pieces, all the colours were faded until they were faint memories of what they had once been. Previously bright and colourful, they were now as sad and worn as the woman he had come to see. The thin and faded draperies covering the windows were no better, although he could see patches of colour tucked the behind parts that were folded, as if the fabric hadn't moved in years. The fireplace mantle held only photos taken with a Muggle camera of someone Severus assumed to be a young Corey Endell. Next to the sagging sofa sat a small television on an equally small table.
Brigit poured and prepared her tea without a wand or offering Severus any, her eyes never leaving his face. Although she had the general appearance of one so frail and tired she might fall asleep at any moment, there was something sharp in her eyes, the only bit of colour in the room that hadn’t faded.
"What sort of complaints?" she asked without preamble, taking a sip of her tea.
Severus took the sofa, the only place in the small room for him to sit. "I’m afraid I’m not at liberty to release any details pertaining to an ongoing investigation, Mrs. Endell. All I can say at this moment is that the Ministry is investigating accusations of harassment committed during an investigation." Removing a scroll from his robes, he read the information he had written earlier. "You filed a complaint on the fourteenth of January earlier this year. In the complaint, you stated that Mr. Potter repeatedly visited your door with demands for information, even after the case concerning your son had been closed. You say that his refusal to release your son’s body for burial was another form of harassment, as well as the Aurors placed outside your home."
"My son is dead," she said, the lines around her eyes growing even tighter and deeper, her thin lips pinching together further. "He paid the punishment for his crimes, as did I. Isn't that enough?" she spat, giving Severus a sharp look. "Why must I be harassed by that arrogant bully with far too much power and too little sense?"
So, another person who found Potter arrogant. He had hoped to find someone who agreed with him on the matter, but she wasn’t what Severus had expected in a potential ally. "Have have any idea what he hopes to gain by his investigation of you?"
Her smile didn’t reach her impenetrable eyes. "A cure for his sick boyfriend. He’ll die if he hasn’t already."
The certainty with which she said it gave Severus pause. How could she be so sure? She appeared weak and frail, but Severus knew not to trust appearances, and this woman had raised one of the cleverest wizards he had ever encountered. He dared not try Legilimency or confusion tricks with her-not until he had some way to measure her reflexes and grasp of magic. If Potter hadn’t been able to satisfactorily draw answers from her with all his Aurors and money, then she had to be fairly formidable. There was nothing he could do but ask. "Why do you think he'll die?"
"It'll teach that brat the very type of lesson he needs to learn," she said, raising her chin. "Let him experience the death of a loved one." Her eyes scanned Severus's face as if she were waiting for him to challenge her.
He was tempted to point out that Potter already had-many times. If anyone knew the pain of losing a loved one, it was Potter. However, her Muggle appliances, her lack of wand usage and her faded home suggested she had disengaged herself from the wizarding world almost as much as her son. He finished the interview, thanked her, and left.
On the road in front of her home, he glanced around for any witnesses to his Disapparition, but not before he spotted her watching him through the window. Her eyes never wavered from him as he vanished from sight.
3. Both Severus and I know that Lupin is lupine, not canine.
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