Distractions
Chapter Eight: Distractions
"There will be no foolish wand-waving or silly incantations in this class. As such, I don't expect many of you to appreciate the subtle science and exact art that is potion-making. However, for those select few who possess the predisposition, I can teach you how to bewitch the mind and ensnare the senses. I can tell you how to bottle fame, brew glory, and even put a stopper in death."
― J.K. Rowling , Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone
Severus Snape was in a mood so foul that even the dementors had stayed away from him, looking for happier victims to suck dry.
Despite the recent news that Black might actually be innocent, the brainless prat was still a wanted felon and Fudge had insisted on having dementors patrol Hogwarts' premises until he was found. The Ministry had not warned Dumbledore of their intent for the dementors to board the Hogwarts Express, however, nor had Dumbledore approved them to do so. And yet they had, another infuriating example of the type of idiocy public funding had bound the school to.
By the time Severus had ascertained the reason behind the distant screams on the far side of the train, Lupin had already annoyingly come to the students' rescue. The werewolf's patronus was formidable, Snape supposed, even if it took an eyerollingly predictable form. Snape and Minerva had finished off what Lupin's translucent wolf hadn't, but not before Snape had spotted exactly which cabin Lupin had been seated in. Granger and Weasley peeked nervously out the train's door, their faces various shades of green from the dementors' influence. The man had been on the job for all of a few hours, and he had already worked out who Potters' friends had been.
Damn him.
Out of the Marauders, Severus had admittedly loathed Remus Lupin the least. Black and Potter had always been the instigators, with Lupin observing in the background and Pettigrew following the lot around like a lost puppy dog. But no matter what Black or Potter did, who they bullied, or how far their pranks went, Lupin continued to support them, something Snape found himself unable to forgive the man for. Especially after a certain incident with the shrieking shack.
Lupin had barely been able to look Severus in the eye since then, even decades later, but it didn't endear Snape to the man. If anything, the events of that night had proved that Lupin was every bit as dangerous and vile as his friends. And yet here he was, taking the position the Snape had coveted for so long. The DADA.
The only good part about Lupin's employment was the arrangements for his monthly activities. Severus would be allowed to substitute for the other wizard, which was more than Snape had been able to do before. Albus had explained his reasoning for his actions before, but the potions master tired of hearing it. The headmaster believed the DADA curse was more than just a rumor, and didn't want to risk one of his best professors to it. But Snape understood Albus's true fear. He didn't want to lose his spy. Not with another war on the horizon.
As foul of a mood as Snape found himself in, he was glad for the distraction, at least. His summer had been unfruitful, with no sightings of Riddle. Retired death eaters all seemed to be just as in the dark and anxious as he was to figure out exactly what was going on. And if he were distracted, he would be less likely to think about her. Although he was beginning to want to tear those distractions' throats out.
"You take that back!"
"Why don't you make me, Weasley? Don't have Potty boy or ickle Ginny do your dirty work anymore, do yo-"
Snape grit his teeth as he approached the scene, his nose twitching in annoyance as a stunner whizzed by. His godson was being rather un-Slytherin, picking fights when he should be plotting from the shadows. And Weasley had been nothing but a flurry of fists since Potter's disappearance, uncaring whether he was outnumbered three to one. The fools.
"Detention, both of you. And fifteen points from Gryffindor for that stunner, Mr. Weasley." He growled, both students and their observers drawing back from Snape's presence.
Granger looked predictably peeved at her redheaded friend, dragging him away from the scene even as Draco looked interested in pursuing them. Snape hadn't failed to notice the tension between the two groups at the Sorting feast. The Gryffindors were still convinced in Ginny Weasley's innocence, while the Slytherins were preening that the murderer had been revealed to be one of their opponents.
"You're smarter than that." Snape raised an eyebrow at his godson, watching the blond with vague interest. Draco had was spoiled, childish even, but he was no fool. Draco turned, offering his professor a snide smile. But as Severus narrowed his eyes, Draco straightened, swallowing hard. Severus sneered and continued on his way. For a boy so quick to puff out his chest, Draco had pureblood propriety instilled in him, at least.
It wasn't long before Severus found himself in front of the ever familiar gargoyle, which stared at him condescendingly.
"Gingersnaps." He muttered, the gargoyle still watching warily as it revealed its entrance. Severus swore the thing had never liked him, as lifeless as it appeared to be.
"Ah, Severus. I heard you had a hand in resolving our dementor problem on the train." The headmaster greeted amicably, as if the dementors were simply a minor pest. Underneath the elderly man's mirth, they both knew they were much more than that.
Severus huffed, crossing his arms as he raised an eyebrow at the headmaster.
"They seemed drawn to Potter's friends. Lupin dealt with most of them before Minerva or I arrived." He scowled, watching as the headmaster stroked his beard in thought.
"Perhaps it wasn't Mr. Weasley or Ms. Granger they were occupied with. Professor Lupin seemed a great deal happier since I've seen him last. He's been catching up with James quite a bit over the last month, it would seem." The headmaster baited, gauging Severus's reaction.
Severus had lied to the Dark Lord's face on many occasions. So much as the wrong twitch could have given him away or caused the Dark Lord to succumb to paranoia. But he'd be damned if his eye wasn't twitching uncontrollably now.
"Perhaps." Snape murmured. Albus wanted him to say more, he knew, but he wasn't about to give into the nosy headmaster's demands.
"Have you spoken to them?" He asked instead, not sure he wanted to hear the answer.
"Briefly." Albus admitted, his eyes gazing towards his office's floo. "They are….miraculously….exactly as they appear to be. Their magical stores are understandably unstable, but they are otherwise every bit James and Lily Potter."
"I held her body, Albus." Snape spat, clenching his fists. "What was left of it."
Which is exactly why when the news had broken out, Snape had been consumed in a fiery rage. The idea of inferi, imposters, or anything of the sort stealing her form and using her name had been infuriating. The fact that the normally all-knowing Albus had been equally in the dark at the time had been even more so. This was not news they could afford to be blindsided by, not now. Not with a basilisk's corpse rotting a few hundred feet below.
"Indeed. And yet, outside bouts of magical exhaustion, they are both in perfect health. James has even been cleared of his Quidditch scars." Albus murmured, looking as if he were solving a simple puzzle and not pondering upon the inner workings of dark magic.
"Of course he's worried about his bloody scars being gone." Severus huffed, tapping his foot impatiently. "Any news from the Unspeakables?"
"Little, I'm afraid. The incantation that killed Quirrell was identified, and they believe it was cast on this 'magical ring' the ghosts mentioned. But the curse itself had nothing to do with resurrections, just with the man's death. They don't think he managed it by blood magic, even given the circumstances."
"So how do you think the fool accomplished it?" Snape asked, narrowing his eyes. Dumbledore offered a grim smile. Albus had the annoying tendency to withhold information. The elder man hid behind amusing smiles and vague sayings, dealing with matters indirectly. To most, this was part of his all-knowing, all-wise appeal, but the reality was that it was a liability. Information was a better defense than any shield or charm. And Albus often left his allies unguarded.
"What is the muggle saying? 'Speak of the devil, and he shall appear?' I'm almost afraid to say it." The headmaster admitted, suddenly looking every bit of his years. Snape furrowed his eyebrows, puzzled.
"The sorcerer's stone couldn't have done thi-"
"Not the sorcerer's stone, Severus. The resurrection stone." Dumbledore corrected wearily, folding his hands. Severus stilled, trying to make sense of what Dumbledore was saying.
"The….the resurrection stone is a myth. A faerie tale."
"As are invisibility cloaks. And yet, one has been passed down through the Potter family for centuries." Dumbledore said grimly, sighing deeply.
Snape blinked at the implications, at just exactly what Dumbledore was insinuating. The Deathly Hallows were little more than myth, and while invisibility cloaks were extraordinarily rare, the idea that Potter's was the one from legend and that Dumbledore had put it into an eleven-year-old's hands was preposterous. But if it were true….
"You think he wants to become the Master of Death." Snape stated rather than asked. Dumbledore nodded, fidgeting with his wand. The headmaster seemed unusually nervous, his eyes glazed in a way Snape only saw when the older man was thinking back to times of war. There was a reason why Voldemort's motivations bothered Albus so.
"I believe he is obsessed with it. With death, at least." Albus said heavily. "No spell can reawaken the dead…. and yet, James and Lily are very much alive. The resurrection stone is the only myth that implies anything of the sort. And in Voldemort's hands…."
Snape nodded briskly, suddenly finding it difficult to swallow.
"Assuming your theory is true, that would mean that he already has two of the three hallows. If Potter took the cloak with him, that is."
"Ms. Granger confirmed that he still had it at their parting. The third hallow will remain safe for now, but the implications of the sort of power Voldemort is gathering, and so quickly…. is rather alarming." Dumbledore admitted wearily. Snape blinked at the knowledge. Dumbledore had confirmation that the Elder Wand existed? And knew of its location? Snape's eyes narrowed. The last artefact Dumbledore claimed was safe had ended up in the Dark Lord's hands within the year. He bit his tongue, deciding it was a topic destined for another time.
"His attentions seem scattered, at least." Snape grimaced. "I trust you heard about the break-in at the Department of Ministries?"
"I did. Voldemort is after the prophecy, it would seem. But given the circumstances….I'm not sure that they were successful in their attempts. The prophecy was found shattered during the culprit's escape, along with dozens of others."
Snape narrowed his eyes, scowling. "We'll know soon enough." He murmured coldly. Dumbledore caught the icy implication behind his words.
"Yes. I suspect the same.….if they learned of its full contents before its destruction….."
"Then Potter is as good as dead." Snape said bluntly, raising an eyebrow. "Once the Dark Lord assures himself that the events of that night won't repeat themselves, he'll get rid of the boy."
Dumbledore looked several years older in that moment. Which was an impressive feat, as the wizard had seemed elderly for as long as Severus Snape had known him.
"Do you recall the moral of the story? Of the three brothers and the deathly hallows?" Dumbledore asked softly, his eyes glazed.
"I didn't recall there being a moral." Snape snorted. In truth, he barely remembered the story at all.
"The brother who desired power, wanted the most powerful wand in the world. But his throat was slit by someone who desired the power for himself. The brother who desired the resurrection stone wanted to bring his loved one back to life. But he hung himself after realizing that she was merely a ghost of herself, cold and lifeless. But the brother who desired the invisibility cloak….he lived into his old age, because while he wore the cloak, Death could never find him. The Invisibility Cloak accepts Harry as its owner. Perhaps he will survive this, yet." Dumbledore murmured, lost in thought. Snape narrowed his eyes pointedly at the man.
"Are you sure Potter's the third brother, and not the second?" Snape questioned, raising an eyebrow. "The boy never wanted to be invisible. He basked in the attention. But he did want his parents back." Dumbledore had no answer for that, instead still staring blankly at his wand, turning it from side to side, deep in thought. Severus sighed.
"There is some good news, at least." He murmured, fruitlessly offering up what shred of optimism he had left. "Several Albanian potion masters have gone missing. It's causing potion shortgages throughout the country, and even in some of the neighboring countries. Greece, in particular."
"I believe our definition of 'good news' differs, Severus." Albus offered kindly, reflecting upon the meaning of Snape's words.
"If the Dark Lord were drinking the Elixir of Life…." Snape murmured, watching the realization glitter in Dumbledore's eyes.
"Then he would have his body back by now. And yet, we've heard no such news. You believe Voldemort is behind these abductions?"
"I'm sure of it. The Elixir of Life is difficult to produce, even for a Potions Master. Flamel is one of the few to have mastered it. From an unwilling or imperioed participant, it would be nearly impossible. And it would require a lifelong attachment to the potion, wouldn't prevent aging….it is possible that the Dark Lord's attempts to use the sorcerer's stone have been in vain. He may be losing his interest or turning to other options."
"Such as the Deathly Hallows."
"Such as the Deathly Hallows." Severus agreed quietly. Dumbledore stroked his beard, lost in thought. Snape eyed Fawkes in the corner. The bird had molted since Snape had last seen him, appearing much smaller and youthful than he had been before. Embers burned at the bird's feet, and the bird stared at him knowingly.
Dumbledore spoke, his voice curious. "Have you…. have you heard anything about Peter?"
Snape stopped, taking a moment before he realized who the elderly man was referring to.
"Pettigrew? No. The man was a coward. If what the Potters are saying is true, and they were foolish enough to pick him as their secret keeper, I wouldn't be surprised if their location was simply tortured out of the man. But despite Potter's unyielding faith in him, I'm not entirely convinced in Black's so called 'innocence', either. Someone was a spy for the Dark Lord, and Black hasn't popped up for a reunion since the news of the Potters' resurrection broke."
"Indeed... and you're certain that you never saw either of them among Voldemort's followers?"
"Never their faces. But our identities were obscured for a reason. Even from each other, at times. It's possible they were there."
"And it's possible that they weren't."
Severus scowled at the headmaster's optimism, his eyes narrowing. "In either case, Black's unclear motivations only means that he's more dangerous than before. If he really is on a warpath to find the Potter boy, where would he even begin to look?" Severus huffed, tiring of the conversation. He edged towards the exit, eager to leave.
Between his duties as the head of Slytherin House, the abundance of Wolfsbane that needed preparing, and his various letters to send out to old contacts, the potions professor had scarcely time to sleep in the last few weeks, nevertheless outline his class syllabus. And that wasn't mentioning the small petition some annoyingly ambitious 7th years had put together, wanting him to offer an alchemy class. While Severus was intrigued by the idea, it simply wasn't possible. Being the sole Potions professor for hundreds of students was strenuous enough without bringing in more advanced, niche classes. And if there was anything Dumbledore excelled at, it was trapping unknowing victims into a long-winded conversation where he learned everything and they learned nothing. And yet…
"Albus?" He asked softly, a portrait eyeing him warily as he stood in the headmaster's entryway. The headmaster turned his attention to the Potions Master once more.
"Yes, Severus?"
"As much…." He found himself amiss for words, choosing them carefully as he continued. "As much as we both have reasons to be relieved at their resurrections, there is still something we would do well to remember." He said slowly, watching the headmaster's reaction before continuing.
"You and I both know that the Dark Lord is not a man to keep his promises. If Voldemort rose two of his enemies back from the dead, he would have had his own reasons for doing so. Something other than merely fulfilling the wishes of a thirteen-year-old boy." Dumbledore's eyes darkened at Severus's words, and he nodded grimly before returning to his paperwork.
Severus left as quickly as he had entered, the gargoyle glaring at him on his way out. In the distance, he could make out the sounds of newly emboldened prefects attempting crowd control as they led a group of first years. He sneered at the sight, at Dumbledore's fumbling choices. The headmaster had a tendency to chose those he thought had potential, not those who had demonstrated any sort of actual leadership. The results were usually mediocre, at best. None of the prefects were ever as efficient as Li…..
He stopped himself before he finished the thought. The mere mention of her name pained him. To relive her death all over again, to see her face on every newspaper, to hear it whispered in the halls….it was more than Severus could bare.
"Professor! Professor! Longbottom's got himself stuck in the loo! Some seventh year Slytherin barred him in-" The yappy student barely had the chance to finish before Snape strode forth angrily, his robes rustling behind him.
No, Severus Snape didn't have time for distractions. Yet he would seek them out, nonetheless.