Borderline

   Brightest sunshine fell over long hills covered with big trees and into the lake, where it made the surface glisten like fairy dust. A big ship lurched in a bay that was surrounded by high rocks. The small bell quietly chimed on top of the mainmast, swaying in the soft breeze and along the ship’s rocking in the shallow waves. Though it was a beautiful day, the long stone stairs up to the yard were deserted like the square in the centre of the roofed arches. Alone on a bench in the cooling shadow of the stair-side corner, a girl wiped a brown curl behind her ear, devoted to a book on her lap. She had fled from the crowds, unwilling to listen to the repeated stories. But the book she read, didn’t bring her much delight either. So it was the voices of her best friends, coming from the open front gates, that brought a little smile to her lips and she shut the pages, watching the two shuffling closer. One slightly dragged his leg.

 

   “Oy, there you are!”, chuckled the ginger and sat down at her left, the other to her right. “Pigeon?”, he glanced at the title of the book. “Why would you read about a pigeon?”

   “Oh brother-heart,”, the trio startled, “Why can’t she just be reading about a pigeon, huh?”

   “Bloody hell! Where did you come from?”, he frowned.

   “From behind, Your High Dumpiness.”, Ginny chuckled, crossed her arms and leaned to the pillar she had been standing hidden behind, having studied the lake.

   “Ha, ha.”

   “Don’t let yourself be beaten by your sister, Ron.”, Harry laughed.

   “Yeah. Don’t let yourself be beaten by your sister, Ron.”, giggled Hermione, but broke off when she saw Harry stretching out his neck for someone in the distant Entrance Hall. “What’s it?”

   “Oh just Cho. She went to lunch already. With her friend. That – what was her name? Marietta?”

   “Yes, that’s her best friend.”, sighed Ginny. “And she definitely needs her now.”

   “Yeah. Horrible days for her. Just imagine, after all, he – was – her – ”, Harry’s sentence fell victim to his own gargling.

   “Hang on, Hermione – who gave you the tampon?”

   “What?”, hissed the girl.

   “I mean, you said, you had good help.”

   “Ron!”, she moaned in disbelief. “This is very private! And was months ago!”

   “Still. I mean, Cho wasn’t, right? So who?”

   “Why, all of a sudden and four months later, do you bother who taught me how to use tampons?”

   “What the – ?”, Harry murmured.

   “Dunno.”, shrugged Ron, frowning. “Just – curious.”

   “Well, if you have to be oh so curious, it was Burbage.”

   “Poke me?”

   “Burbage, Ron. Professor Burbage.”

   “Wait – the – the Muggle Studies teacher?”, he frowned even more.

   “Yes, her.”

   “You run to a teacher for – tampons?”

   “Yes, I did.”, Hermione grumbled. “And she was great help, very friendly and discreet.”, she could only just keep herself from pointing out that this was nothing one could say about him.

   “Good advice. Take it to your heart, Ronald.”, meant Ginny. “If you should ever be in need of a tampon, go to Professor Burbage.”, it took some time to sink in, but eventually, they had a great laugh on it.

   “So?”, Hermione grinned the necessary change of topic, “Any notice from Padfoot?”

   “Nope,”, Harry smirked. “Either he’s doing too well, or he’s dead. Let’s not hope for the second.”

   “Great, that you can already make jokes about death again.”, she snarled.

   “Well, that’s life, I suppose.”, he nevertheless lost his smile. “We’re all going to the dogs anyway.”

   “Don’t say something like that, Har-”, she could have sworn to have heard the sound of something heavy being pulled over the ancient stone tiles behind.

   “But it’s true! No one lives forever, right? And if I don’t take down Voldemort, one day he’ll die from age. I mean, didn’t Dumbledore say that the stone Flamel had, was the last one? I hardly reckon anyone will ever be able to create a new one. The way he spoke about it, Flamel was close to pop his clogs when he finally managed to.”

   “Vho popped his clogs?”, said a grumpy sounding voice from behind the four and Hermione’s neck cracked dangerously when their heads turned once more. “And vot does that mean?”

   “Ouch.”, she whimpered very quiet and rubbed it.

   “Kick the bucket? Go toes up? No?”, Harry came up with more idioms.

   “You mean dying?”

   “Yes.”

   “Uh – I think, I had enouff of that.”, even Ron joined in the laugh, though a bit awkward. “Can I haff a vord vith you, Hermy-own-ninny?”

   “For heaven’s sake, learn her name.”, Ron murmured, but he must have missed that, even though Hermione shortly slammed her `pigeon´ on Ron’s head. “Ow!”

   “Sure.”, she jumped up at Viktor’s puzzled look. “Where?”

   “Uh – I don’t know – over there?”, he pointed to the opposite corner and Hermione’s enthusiasm depleted.

   “Right.”

 

   Holding her book to her chest, she followed him past the entrance to the broad viaduct bridge, to the shadows underneath the other roof. There he hid her securely behind a pillar, away from the looks of the others. Sure not to be seen, he bent down and kissed her softly. Still hugging her book, she kissed him back. But when he wouldn’t put his arms around her, she stopped, pulled away and eyed him with interest.

 

   “I guess, this is goodbye then.”, he said wearily.

   “Goodbye? But there are still two days to go – ”

   “Her-my-ow-nee.”, it took him some seconds to get it out, but at last, he did. “I am very fond of you and I know that you like me very much. But I haff come to see, that your heart is somevare else.”

   “Viktor – ”, Hermione’s eyes glazed.

   “I live far avay. I haff grown up far avay. I am in international business. You haff to finish school. You haff your friends here. Your life is here, mine is in another place. And your heart belongs to a person that is inside these school’s valls vith you. You can be better together vith him. Far better.”, he presented her with a gentle smile and nod.

   “Viktor, I – ”

   “No. I think he loves you really. He has acted like this. And you haff acted similar. Try to speak it out. Try to be happy together. Ve can still be friends, if you like to. It vould be vonderful.”

   “Yes.”, Hermione sighed, smirking sadly.

   “Thank you for everything, Hermy-own-ninny.”

   “Thank you too, Viktor.”

 

   They just looked at each other for some moments. Then he took her in the arms. Another smile when they let go; he shuffled backwards and turned to the yard.

   Seeing him coming alone, Ginny grabbed her legs and hurried across the square, not deigning to look at him or the bridge or anything around. All she cared for was Hermione, whom she found leaning to the pillar, her empty face straight ahead.

 

   “Hermione?”

   “He – he broke up with me – ”, she sang, accompanied by a dull chuckle.

   “What? That b– ”

   “No. It was right. He – was right. We don’t belong together. We’re friends, but not more. It just – it doesn’t fit.”

   “Oh Hermione.”, moaned Ginny and laid her arms around her as well, but this time Hermione returned the gesture, not even able to shed a tear.

 

   Meanwhile, Ron and Viktor had exchanged some brief looks and Viktor disappeared behind the arches. Shortly before he reached the stairs, he startled, like he had already done half a year ago. Some more looks were exchanged. Then Viktor rushed back down to the ship, actually shocked.

 

   “And that was his reason?”, Ginny urged.

   “Like I said,”, they parted, “He knows that my heart belongs somewhere else.”

   “And where?”, Hermione stepped out of their hiding place and looked over to the bench; Ginny walked around her, taking a look as well.

   “Er – what?”

   “Um – ”

   “Oh – for a moment, I though you were going to say Harry.”

   “Ginny!”, Hermione moaned upset.

   “Yeah. Sure. No, I mean, you can have him.”

   “What?”

   “So what? He’s my brother. What do I care.”, the chuckle relieved Hermione a bit. “If you need help, just say. I know how to kick him back into the pit.”

   “Thank you. But I think I can handle him as well. At least I should be able to, after four years, don’t you think?”

   “Yeah. Still, if you need – Hermione?”, she noticed that her friend stared at something else than Ron, who only frowned across the yard with Harry, neither of them turning as her head followed the shadow that paced quickly through the arches; a little strange, if she thought about it.

   “You – excuse me,”, she gasped and started running.

 

   Her shoes clattered over the huge flat tiles of natural stone, towards the Entrance Hall. But regardless of how fast she was, he reached it first.

 

   “Sir!”, she called after him, but was obviously ignored, because it would have asked for a miracle for him to not hear her. “Sir!”, she repeated, but he disappeared behind a group of tall seventh-years, gone from her view. “That went bad,”, she huffed to herself.

   “Hermione?”, Ron had caught up, a limping Harry on the heels and Ginny came from the other side. “What’s going on? Whom did you run after?”

   “Where have you got your eyes, Ron!”, she snapped. “Snape’s back!”

   “Already?”, the younger injured murmured.

   “That was a fast mission,”, aspirated Ron.

   “Yeah. Even faster than I was. But he’s hurt.”

   “Hurt?”

   “He’s got himself a cut on the cheek, I saw it. It’s still bleeding. His lip as well. He was – limping – and it looked like his left arm’s broken too – ”

   “Serves him well, the – ”

   “Ron!”, Hermione moaned. “He’s on our side!”

   “Believes Dumbledore.”

   “If it hadn’t been for him, Crouch would have done – hell only knows – to Harry.”, she sighed. “He saved his life again – ”

 

 

~~#~~

 

 

   A fire was crackling peacefully and chatting as well as clattering filled the dusty room. Down in the lower floor, between all the unwanted memories of one man’s past, at this hour, there was no space for the war that was crawling through the small, unpleasant alleys, blowing out seemingly minor candles every hour, away from everyone’s knowledge, though still close enough to be felt.

   As silent as the fingers of death trailed over the unseen, dark fabric blew up the dust which a caring mother had been incapable of making her children remove. Behind a curtain, the portrait of an old lady of long gone days slumbered on, not woken by the elegant black shoes striding over the carpet and past the Troll foot like a cat’s paws. The events of the past weeks had left no visible marks behind. Not on someone like him, not if he did his usual best to hide it. Only bits of dust got caught on the dark seam as it slid over the stairs, down to that room. There he opened an old door with ease and entered.

 

   “What’s the bat doing here?”, snapped Ron Weasley when the black figure with the waving cloak came walking into the kitchen of number twelve, Grimmauld Place, where all of them were at supper.

   “A very good evening to you as well.”, he murmured. “I see, you still haven’t managed to coordinate, what your brain lets slip through your mouth, have you?”

 

   Nobody saw Hermione; who sat next to Ron; becoming as red as the wine in Sirius’ goblet when Snape’s dark eyes moved from Ron to her in the middle of the sentence. Not even Ron himself, since he was too busy exchanging looks with the others.

 

   “Good evening, Snivellus! What kind of fancy story are we going to hear from you today?”, Harry Potter’s godfather smirked and took a sip of his wine.

   “Sirius!”, Mrs Weasley hissed.

   “It is perfectly all right, Molly. Paddlefoot has never known better.”, Snape sneered. “You should just be careful, what kind of manners he teaches your youngest son.”, she stared at him, totally dumbfounded.

   “Pardon?”, Sirius sat up straight. “Don’t get me wrong, but for a moment it sounded like you said something, Snape?”, that one just gazed up into nowhere, replying dreamingly.

   “Does none of you hear that annoying, ringing sound coming from the end of the table to my left?”

   “Another word like that from you and you’ll actually have your left ear ringing,”, Sirius had put down his goblet, stood up and pointed his wand directly at Snape’s head.

   “Another word like that from you, Black,”, he faced him straight and cold, “And I will make Miss Granger here pour the rest of that little potion she’s been carrying around for more than a year now, into your goblet and force it down your throat.”, he spat at him, all other heads turning to Hermione who tried to look like she had no idea what was going on. “Then you can call yourself lucky if you wake up once in the upcoming decade.”

   “What is he – ?”, Ron aspirated to her.

   “I don’t know.”, Hermione whispered.

   “A threat, Snivelly? Well, it wasn’t quite impressive, was it?”, Sirius chuckled mock amused, not lowering his wand and back to anger immediately.

   “Enough!”, barked Mrs Weasley, on her feet as well. “Out! Everyone who’s not in the Order – get out of here! And don’t you dare to eavesdrop at the door!”

   “Mum!”, Fred and George said at once.

   “We’re eating!”, continued Fred.

   “Yeah!”, added George.

   “You can take that stuff to your room.”, she snorted, pushing her hands into her hips. “Now get out!”, murmuring, the addressed people left the kitchen, just the twins carrying their plates, cutlery and glasses. “You as well, Sirius. We have enough enemies already. It’s not wise to fight against our own kind too. We’ll tell you everything later.”

   “Our own kind.”, he mumbled grunting, lowered his wand and grabbed his goblet only, following the others. “You can have my supper, Snivvy. Enjoy it.”, he said when strutting past without giving him a glance. “Ten Galleons, George,”, he continued as he walked through the door, “That he won’t last a minute without choking.“

   “Fifteen, for under half a minute.”, replied the latter.

   “That’s unfair. I might actually lose.”, chuckled Sirius.

   “Now will you shut up, you morons?”, Mrs Weasley shouted, slamming the door with a wave of her wand.

   “Did she just call you a moron?”, Fred giggled. “Congratulations, brother-sweet. You’ve finally driven Mum mad.”

   “Oh shove it.”, George laughed back.

   “What is he actually doing here?”, Ginny asked what Ron had tried before.

   “He’s now one of us.”, laughed Sirius, annoyed but quiet, leaning against the wall of the corridor one floor up and taking a gulp. “He’s a full member of the Order. At least that’s what Dumbledore is trying to make us believe.”

   “Then you should believe him.”, whispered Hermione. “He must have reasons.”

   “If you ask me, Dumbledore’s gone a bit nutty these days,”, groaned Ron.

   “He has always trusted Snape.”, marked Sirius. “From the very first moment. All the time when he jinxed random people or turned his office upside down – even when he came back after being gone to hell only knows, returning with the Dark Mark on his arm. Either that freak is a damn good actor or Dumbledore’s really gone mental.”

   “I don’t think Dumbledore has gone mental.”, considered Hermione. “That man knows what he does.”

   “Honestly, Hermione?”, Ron moaned quietly as well now, so as to not wake up the portrait. “He’s forcing us to not contact Harry! And you know well that’s not all!”

   “He must have reasons.”, Hermione repeated curtly, but fell silent when the door below opened.

   “Kreacher?”

   “What?”, Sirius hissed. “That bastard – ”

   “Would you then please wait for me in Reg’s sanctuary? There is something I’d need to be done as well and you appear most able.”

   “Anything for the Master’s friend. Anything.”, croaked the Elf and the door was shut again, followed by a slightly distant crack as he Disapparated.

   “`The Master’s –´”, Ron murmured quietly. “Sarcastic little git, isn’t he? And what’s `Reg’s sanctuary´?”

   “Oh not at all.”, meant Sirius. “And that would be my brother Regulus’ room, I reckon. He and Snape had been hanging around a lot in school. He even brought him here sometimes in summers. That’s when I started disappearing off to the Potters’. Just couldn’t stand another slime ball in the house. Especially when our dearest mother began to see him as a son as well.”

   “Your mother’s liked Snape?”, asked Ginny.

   “Why, yes! He’s been all into the Dark Arts – sympathising with – Cissy – and her rotten Malfoy-boyfriend – Snape’s name was more welcomed here than my entire presence. And he must have loved being mothered by the rich. Don’t think his parents could afford much, telling from what he’d looked like then or those ancient hand-me-down school books he’d had. Guess, the show-off impressed my parents a little more, capable of wandless magic already early, while I failed to even do stuff non-verbal until it was regularly taught at school. Or probably because I preferred red and gold over green and silver. My parents valued gold a lot, but in combination with red and lions it was like a horrible disease for them. You see, even Kreacher likes him.”

   “Oh well,”, snapped Hermione, “If you haven’t heard how he’d said that to him, he’d said it politely. Might be a reason.”

   “No,”

   “And what’s that potion Snape mentioned?”, Ron interrupted the beginning of another quarrel.

   “I already told you, Ron. I have no idea what he was talking about.”, she hissed convincingly, though fearing that she would blush again. “If Dumbledore sees something good in Snape, we should do as well. Even if you can’t, I can see why he would want him in the Order. I don’t know why or how, but he seemed to have managed getting You-Know-Who’s trust. Considering that, he would be the only one able to tell us about our enemies’ plans. Even you said that once, Sirius, remember? Dumbledore might be addicted to sweets, but that doesn’t make him lunatic.”

   “Addicted to sweets?”, Ginny frowned.

   “Oh come on. That’s common news.”, Hermione huffed grumpily. “But it’s not the point. As your mother said, we shouldn’t fight against our own kind. Dumbledore trusts Snape, which means he certainly seems to have useful and reliable information for the Order.”

   “Do you trust Snape?”, chuckled Ginny.

   “I trust Dumbledore.”, said Hermione, crossing her arms to emphasise her faith. “Yes, Sirius, maybe Snape’s a good actor or a Pure-Blood Supremacist, but as long as we don’t know for sure which side of him is played and which not, we can only rely on Dumbledore’s belief. After all he has proven to get it right many times.”

   “Did he tempt you with chocolate or what?”, Sirius snickered jokingly.

   “You really are a moron.”, she snarled at him, noticing slight warmth rising in her face. “And a jealous one even.”

   “Jealous?”

   “I’m not stupid. You don’t like him because your parent’s preferred him above their own son.”

   “Why the hell should I be jealous? No one in their right mind could fancy being liked by my parents,”

   “And if he liked your brother, it’s only natural that he snaps at you in return for blaming him for that. So just because you used to have a childish grudge on each other, which apparently broke out anew over the past weeks, it doesn’t mean he’s an arsehole through and through.”

 

   The following silence shocked Hermione as well. Realising what she had just said, she finally blushed heavily. Had she said – had she actually – but she was right, wasn’t she? He had proven that he could be very different from what he made everyone believe he was like.

 

   “I – now don’t look at me like that.”, she sighed. “You know what I mean.”, when the bewildered silence wouldn’t wear off, she turned on her heels and fled upstairs.

   “Did she actually just defend Snape?”, Ginny noticed.

   “It more bothers me that she said `arsehole´.”, Sirius raised an eyebrow. “You know her longer, Ron. Did she ever use that word? Because, as far as I know her, she has a talent to form the most complicated sentences just to avoid even light swear words.”

   “True. I can’t remember her having used that word before.”, Ron considered. “And if she had, she must have done it so faintly and subdued I didn’t notice. Believe me, I would have noticed and kept honouring that moment ever after.”

 

   Falling onto her bed, tears of fury in her eyes, she looked up at the ceiling. It wasn’t a beautiful sight, but studying the details of broken elements in the house could be quite interesting when having to kill time while the Order held meetings. She was glad that nobody had followed her. Though just in case, she had pushed a chest of drawers in front of the door. Confused about herself, she tried to analyse what had just happened. Using a swear word like this wasn’t her. Either the guys really had a bad influence on her or they had hit a wound poi- no. What was actually wrong with her? If he could continue like nothing had ever happened, why couldn’t she go on in the same, careless manner?

   There was this image again. What had it been? What had been on his mind when he had stared at the oven back then? What had he been thinking when they had shared that dance a year later? Why had he defended her in such a; admittedly; charming way in front of his friend or Dumbledore? What had it been that had made him apologise for his behaviour? Why had he calmed her down when Harry had returned to the entrance of the maze? She wasn’t stupid and he knew that. Why had he decided to put down an obvious mask in certain moments? And why was he so eager to hide his good side all the other time? Was it really just to gain Voldemort’s full trust? Did he deny his emotions just for that? Because he had known the moment of his return to come?

   Dumbledore had always pointed out that if there was one thing that Voldemort didn’t understand, it was love, because he had never been loved. But suppressing care, just to keep everyone away from the claws of evil – if that really was Severus Snape – everyone should admire him. She wouldn’t be able to do something like that. It must be something – big – no – huge – something very strong – some very strong love that kept him continuing. But what? What would he love? Who would he love?

   Again, she came to the conclusion that she knew nothing about their Potions Master. But if he really did what she just thought about, wouldn’t it be dangerous for all of them if she tried to get confirmation? With a sigh, she looked at the clock. More than half an hour had passed since they had left the kitchen. She heard Sirius’ raised voice.

 

   “You’re still alive? Damn George. It seems we both lost.”

   “Sirius!”, she could hear Mrs Weasley yelling. “Leave him and get in. You got to hear that. As for you lot – to your rooms! Honestly!”

   “Am I allowed to use the toilet first?”, Ginny snarled.

   “Now don’t be silly, dear.”, the kitchen door fell shut again.

   “Thank you.”, Hermione heard the guys run upstairs, past her room, doors being shut ferociously with the last sound that had been necessary.

   “Forlorn blood-traitor freaks! Half-breed mud! You scum-lovers! Leave my noble h-”

   “Shut your filth spitting frigging trap, you wayward paint waste of a goddamnED bitch! This is not your house anymore!”, Hermione choked, her eyes wide open in shock and surprise – Snape was still there, and how!

   “Whow!”, Ginny gasped at the uncommon phrasing. “Great one, Professor.”

   “Thank you.”

 

   There was a long pause in which his voice echoed in Hermione’s head. It made her wonder, what those Gaelic words had meant, that he had said to Dumbledore in the tent. Maybe she should ask McGonagall before she left, just for a try.

 

   “Is there anything you’d like to tell me, Professor?”

   “Indeed, yes. You only have one mother.”

   “Pardon?”

   “You understood me quite well. Now go to your so desired toilet and think about how you treat the woman who has given birth to you and raised you, loving you unconditionally.”

 

   There. There it was. A caring statement. He would have never said something as moral as this in front of a class, would he? But why to Ginny as well? Ginny’s angry running steps stopped after she slammed the bathroom door behind her, one floor below their room. Hermione sighed heavily. After all he was right. She had in fact been a bit rude to her mo- Hermione’s heart sank. Even though she was lying on her back, it had felt like it had fallen down to her bowel. Four quiet knocks on the door. The next moment she was on her feet, hurrying over, trying to push the chest of drawers aside and flinging the door open – only to find an empty staircase, torn between anger about having locked the door so effectively and sadness on having managed to let him walk away. Disappointed, she lowered her head, a little thing causing her heart to jump back up again.

   A folded piece of paper laid between her feet. He must have shoved it beneath the door while she had pushed away the furniture. With another safety glance outside, she picked it up and closed the door. Curious, she unfolded it and read the words, hastily written across it with a pencil.

 

Mind my words and your temper. No one must know. It is crucial. Get rid of the potion. Drinking it now would kill you. Should you ever actually feel the need for another saving, you know the rule. Just do not overuse it then. It is as addicting as spearmint chocolate. And burn this paper.

 

   Her temper? Who had just thrown a whole load of swearing at old Mrs Black’s portrait? Footsteps. She only had time to fold the paper and put it into the pocket of her jeans, when there was a brief knock on the door. Hurrying to the bed happened equally fast. Laid down on her back again, she answered. The door was opened and Ginny peered in.

 

   “Are you alright?”

   “Yes.”, Hermione sighed and the other girl entered, closing the door behind.

   “He’s gone. Snape, I mean. They’re now telling Sirius what he told them.”, she sat down on her bed. “We definitely need to kill that bastard.”, Hermione’s head rushed to her, finding her sitting rigid, legs crossed, her eyes staring at the wall. “That war – or whatever it is – is changing too many people in ways I don’t really fancy.”, she looked at Hermione, “Even you.”, and noticed something. “Am I going mad too or has this chest of drawers moved since midday?”

   “I considered locking the door with it.”

   “You could have locked it magically,”

   “I don’t think it would be wise if underage people used magic in a safe house.”

   “That’s minor magic. Stuff we’re allowed to practice in our holidays. You should know better, right? And not that there’re any Muggles around, are there? The Ministry won’t – ”

   “Still it’s underage wizardry in a place that isn’t supposed to exist.”

   “Fine. I’ll try to get Sirius remembering where the key had gone. I don’t like the thought of my brothers having free entrance to our room. We can’t lock out Fred and George, but keeping Ron away is a small victory already.”

   “Yes. His boredom makes him a pest.”

   “Well, I offered my help.”

   “I know.”, squinted Hermione. “But I think, he will get better, as soon as Harry’s here.”

   “Yeah. Question – did you hear that?”

   “Hear what?”

   “Snape.”

   “As if not. There’s hardly anything you don’t hear through the walls of this house, if it isn’t quiet enough or your mother prevented it.”

   “Sure. So? What do you think, we’re to expect?”

   “At Hogwarts, you mean?”

   “Yeah.”

   “Oh, I don’t know. I don’t think, he will lose his temper too often.”

   “You do? I mean, he did in front of everyone in that tent – and in the Hospital Wing – and I can’t recall he’s ever used such words like down there. Especially not so many in one sentence.”

   “Nor do I, but that doesn’t mean, he cannot behave. You have seen and heard the trouble she causes; even Sirius has his problems with her. And Snape,”

   “Literally shut her up, yes. Still it would be interesting to see. And hear.”

 

   Not only due to their giggling, neither heard the front door open again. It was done so silently that Mrs Black either failed to notice it another time, or was simply too shocked from that encounter; nor did she give the slightest hint of knowing that someone went downstairs. Everyone startled when he pushed the kitchen door and quietly closed it the second after.

 

   “I thought, that thing was gone!”, the man furthest down the table murmured.

   “Hold your breath, Plush-Snout. They still need that air to breathe in here.”, the cold words hit and Sirius wanted to continue the quarrel, but Mrs Weasley gave him a look that couldn’t have been any closer to a death threat.

   “What are you still doing here?”, Minerva asked, like the others, watching him walk over to the dresser and take two slices of bread from a basket.

   “Change of plan.”, he got himself some well picked cheese, the half tomato left from Molly’s cooking as well as two lettuces of green salad from the fridge, which he briefly washed. “I considered, it might not hurt to have the one or other friend. Or as it is, they will believe so.”, all eyes were on him as he cut the tomato into three evenly thick slices and put them on top of the cheese and salad on one bread, onto which be placed the second with a nice additional push.

   “And who might that be?”

   “That is my business, Minerva.”, she frowned when he lifted the upper bread slice again and sprinkled some salt and pepper between. “No one else’s.”

 

   He then took off his cloak and folded it neatly to a rectangular pile which he placed at the edge of the dresser, right next to the sink. The same he did with his robe and pulled a black pouch from the pocket of his trousers; his arm went deep in. Now everyone was frowning at the bigger briefcase he got from it and placed left to his pile. Next things were a slightly oversized black jacket and a dark blue tie. Lost in thoughts, he bound the tie and put on the jacket. Then he took a lunchbox from the briefcase, cut the bread in half and carefully placed it inside, noticing that there was still some space. Considering, his eyes flicked to the fridge. A few steps and the door was open. Just to his satisfaction, cut in half, a cucumber laid inside. He grabbed it, plus some radishes, slipped the pink balls into the box and cut some slices off the cucumber as well. Those he stacked evenly in the still empty space, closed the lunchbox and put the rest of the vegetables back into the fridge.

 

   “And what are you touching our food for?”, Sirius growled.

   “Don’t worry.”, Snape moaned when putting the box into the briefcase and his other clothes into the pouch. “Momma Molly will wash it for baby Paddy so he won’t die from cancer but live a long, long life.”

   “Now will you two stop it?”, she barked. “You’re worse than my actual children!”

   “As I said, may you suffocate from it.”, Sirius ignored her.

   “I am not willing to grant you that pleasure.”, Severus went on as well, brushing his oily hair together at the back of his head with his hands. “Besides, you are not nearly good enough at placing bets on my death.”, a black rubber band he had worn hidden under his right sleeve, now bound his thick hair to a ponytail. “If you excuse me now, I should not be late for this particular political tryst.”

 

   In mid turn; still not looking at anyone; he reached for the strap of the briefcase and went for the door. But before he could close it behind him, Remus was on his feet, having taken only a few huge steps to reach the door.

 

   “Wait.”, he said quietly. “I need a word with you before you go.”

   “Is it urgent?”, Severus murmured.

   “Quite, yes.”

   “What are you doing, Remus? Do you have your wand with you? You know you can’t just – ”

   “For once, keep it to yourself, Sirius, honestly. We aren’t kids anymore.”, Remus gnarled.

   “Oh I don’t know – he’s still the same slimy slug, you see?”

 

   The door was shut behind them and they were alone in the narrow, dusty corridor. In a moment of near silence; Molly was ranting at Sirius, muffled by the door; they looked at each other, Severus waiting for Remus to say something. When he was close to explode from impatience, Remus would finally raise his voice.

 

   “Severus – ”, he seemed to fight with something. “Just – ignore him.”

   “Actually, it is great fun to hold a mirror against his face and see how much he is incapable of dealing with his own flaws. So if that was all,”

   “No, it’s not all.”, sighed Remus. “Whom are you spying on?”

   “That is, as I said, my business.”

   “Alright, alright.”, Remus gave an awkward nod at the wall. “Just be careful.”, a little bored but still, Severus frowned.

   “I may cry.”, he murmured.

   “No, really – I mean that. I don’t know how many lives you have, but the Prime Minister’s got only one. If anybody sees you having a snack with – ”

   “And why do you ask, if Albus already told you what he wants me to do?”

   “He didn’t tell me, exactly.”

   “Wonderful.”, Severus huffed. “Eavesdropping, like a child. Great.”

   “I didn’t mean to.”

   “Oh surely you didn’t. I am fully convinced. Is that all, Remus?”, he opened his mouth in protest but couldn’t find any more words to say. “Fine. As I said as well, I am rather in a hurry.”, he spun around and marched for the front door.

   “Severus?”, very slow, Severus turned.

   “Yes?”, he said similarly.

   “That – looks good on you.”, Remus threw him a single nod on the clothes.

 

   Not knowing what to reply either, Severus’ expression became something that couldn’t actually be read. It was somewhere between confused, flattered and exhausted. His dark eyes stared at Remus as if he was some sort of hallucination. Though he then shortly blinked at him, took a deep breath and left.

 

 

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