Tabula Rasa

Chapter Twenty-Three

Tabula Rasa

Clear blue skies heralded the arrival of New Year's Day, and frost encrusted the leafless trees with a sprinkling of albino feathers. Downham had been spared its share of snow, and the village's muted, icy colours shimmered in the sunlight whilst Pendle Hill loomed cold and white in the distance.

Severus and Tess walked off their hangovers in the crisp, countryside air, aware that Tobias and Isobel Snape were currently travelling up the motorway, making the seven-hour journey from Mevagissey. They knew the hour would be late by the time the couple arrived at the village's bed-and-breakfast accommodation, settled in, and made the short walk down an icy road to Lapwing Row.

Low-lying mist had begun to settle across the valley by the time the inevitable knock on the door reverberated through the house. Severus glanced through the library window and caught a glimpse of the fading, peach-coloured sky and its orange orb setting in the west. Adjusting to the glare, he could see two people standing on the footbridge in front of his house.

A wodge of cotton wool pressed into Severus's throat, and he noticed the house-callers appeared equally nervous, shivering in the cold outside his front door.

Tess wound her hand around his, gentle and reassuring.

"Shall I get the door?" she nudged.

"No," he replied, swallowing his misgivings and straightening the ballast of his black waistcoat. "I'll do it."

Tess's hand brushed against his burgundy shirt sleeve as Severus passed through the door to the hallway, feeling as though his steps were heavy enough to splinter and crack the floorboards beneath. His hand paused on the brass door-handle, and he took in a steadying breath.

As much as Tess had helped prepare him for this moment, his trepidation remained, in abject defiance of his attempts to control his emotions. Severus knew he would be opening the door to his father without his feelings being contained under lock and key, and the thought filled him with dread.

Opening the door let in a blast of ice-cold air. Tobias and Isobel Snape stood with their faces partially disguised by hats and woollen scarves, their gloved hands rammed into their pockets for warmth. Realising their discomfort, Severus wordlessly stepped aside, allowing them entry into his home.

They nodded in gratitude and moved quickly indoors, shaking their arms as though to dislodge a covering of snow.

"Brrrrr," Isobel commented as she removed her red knitted hat and scarf. "I know they say it's grim up north, but I never knew it could be so cold!" She smiled as she removed her gloves and stuffed them into her coat pockets.

"Izzy's not used to the frost," Tobias explained, looking in Severus's general direction. "We don't get these low temperatures on the south coast of Cornwall."

Severus caught his father's eye, felt the wedge in his throat loosen a little bit, and nodded to communicate his understanding. Words, however, remained out of reach.

Tess stepped into the hallway and offered to take their winter coats, and in the tight space of the corridor, the guests peeled off their outdoor layers and handed them over. Severus moved and gestured for them to follow him into the library.

Isobel's eyes soaked up the wall-to-wall bookshelves, whilst his father looked surprised by the first reception room of Severus's home.

"This is an impressive selection of books," Tobias remarked with a tinge of awe, glancing at the tomes lining the room whilst inhaling the aroma of old parchment and leather. "You must be quite the scholar."

Before Severus could reply, Tess returned, her arms empty from depositing the winter garments in the cloakroom. Knowing he'd not yet spoken, she looked at him expectantly.

He quietly cleared his throat, and with a rigid posture, he turned to his father and said, "Welcome to Downham."

Tobias nodded, put his hands in his pockets, and cast a smile at Tess.

In the awkwardness which followed, a dissonant, jangling sound akin to goblets falling on a stone floor invaded the silence, causing the houseguests to cast their jittery eyes to the ceiling.

As the noise continued for several seconds, Isobel turned to Tess in fright. "What's going on?"

"Oh, it's just a ghoul, Mrs Snape. Nothing to be scared of," she explained.

Isobel's voice trembled. "A... a ghoul?"

"Ghouls are actually considered good luck in wizarding homes," Tess said, smiling sympathetically. "They're not a threat at all."

Isobel looked dubiously at Tobias. "Did you ever have a ghoul, Toby?"

He shook his head, questioning Severus with his gaze. "Never heard of them before now."

"My father knew very little of the wizarding world," Severus elucidated in a neutral tone.

"I have much to learn, it seems," Tobias replied.

Severus could sense his father attempting to build a bridge, and he knew he held the power to make the process easier. If only he knew how.

He was saved from his procrastination by another gasp from Isobel. Through the door to the living room, she had seen their house-elf placing a tray of drinks on the coffee table and subsequently vanishing on the spot. Isobel covered her gaping mouth and flailed for Tess's reassurance.

Tess took hold of Isobel's arm. "It's alright, that's just Fogle, our elf. He helps us with housekeeping. He's really quite friendly, Mrs Snape."

Leading her by the arm, Tess took Isobel through to the living room and sat her down, helping her recover from the shock and leaving Severus and Tobias standing alone in the library.

"It's been a lot for her to take in," said Tobias, rattling his keys in his pocket.

"Undoubtedly," Severus replied.

After a moment's contemplation, Tobias remarked, "Tess seems to have things under control. What say we head out to the pub? Have a New Year's drink whilst these ladies get acquainted?"

Severus noticed the wool which had been lodged in his throat had now moved to reside in his stomach; his dread had dissipated into a new manifestation, reminding him of the nervousness he used to feel before his OWL examinations: an aberrant mixture of fear and excitement.

Realising he needed to respond, Severus forced himself to speak. "I'll get our coats," he said, leaving the library for the sanctuary of his cloakroom under the stairs.

Shrugging on his warm, black winter overcoat, he passed his father's recently-shed garments back to him then located his green-and-silver scarf and gloves.

Tess looked at him in surprise when he entered the living room, wearing his combination of Muggle and wizard winter clothing.

"We're going to the pub," Severus declared. "It'll give you chance to tell Isobel a bit more about the wizarding world." He turned to his father, who stood at the doorway to the library, affixing his brown woolly hat over his ears. "We'll be back soon."

"OK, that's fine," Tess replied, recovering her composure quickly. "We'll keep the home fires burning."

Arctic air greeted Severus and his father as they took their first steps outside. The temperature had plummeted as the sun diminished beyond the horizon, illuminating clouds with a lugubrious glow and plunging the village into amber twilight. Severus pulled out a battery-powered torch from his coat pocket and switched it on, lighting the path ahead.

"Can't you use magic for that?" Tobias asked.

"I could, but I'm the only wizard in the village, and I'd risk being caught in the act. However, the main road is lit by streetlamps just around the corner."

They set off in the direction of the pub.

"It's a beautiful village," Tobias remarked after a short silence. "We noticed there're no overhead cables, television aerials, or even any double yellow lines on the road. It's like the land that time forgot."

"Downham is part of a Muggle conservation area. They purposefully keep it looking this way." Severus turned off his torch when a pool of light ahead signalled their arrival onto surer pathways. As they passed by a terrace of houses he commented, "The place looks a lot like a wizarding village from the outside, but inside the houses are just as Muggle as everywhere else,"

"Except for yours," Tobias commented. "I noticed you had no electricity."

"It seems our house has always been inhabited by magical folk. We're not even connected to the electricity grid."

They turned on the street corner, trying to keep to the stone pavements which had been gritted to make them passable. Rock salt crunched underfoot as they ascended the hill into the heart of the village, and their conversation lulled from the exertion. As they reached the top of the hill, Severus noticed his breath burned his throat. They paused briefly, looking over the road towards the village's only public house, which doubled as a bed-and-breakfast establishment. The windows of the Assheton Arms gleamed a warm welcome into the night.

"It's a lovely old building," Tobias commented. "Rooms are comfy, and the bar is proper oldly-worldly." He headed across the road, his hands stuffed in his pockets. "You coming?"

Severus mobilised his limbs, realising his trepidation had rooted his feet to the frost-covered ground. Carefully, they navigated their way across the icy traffic-free road and passed frozen wooden tables and benches as they arrived at the pub's front door. An outdoor electric lantern lit the entrance.

"You've never been in here, have you?" Tobias asked, scrutinising Severus's expression.

Severus stared through the window panes. "No. I've never been inside a Muggle pub before."

"Never once?"

"Nope," Severus replied, bouncing slightly on his heels, feeling the chill.

"Blimey."

His father reached for the door handle and led them inside.

Their nostrils were immediately assailed with warm air and the aroma of beer, cigarette smoke, and spices of mulled wine. The scent was a riot to the senses after the stark, Siberian air outside.

Unbuttoning his coat and walking straight to the bar, Tobias caught the eye of the innkeeper and placed an order for a pint of stout. "What'll you have?" he asked his son.

"The same," Severus replied, unravelling his scarf and locating a table in the corner, adjacent to a snooker table.

Signalling his direction to his father, Severus walked past a grand fireplace with an old stone surround dated '1765' and claimed the free table, pulling off his gloves and folding his coat over the back of a worn chair. In another corner of the room hung a dilapidated dartboard with two older gentlemen locked in competition. Severus noticed the red rectangle below the number twenty was so worn away that it barely retained its colour, and yet the red spot at the centre of the board appeared almost pristine.

He wondered why the players would direct their shots in this manner, and he watched as the man throwing the yellow darts kept missing his target. Severus deemed alcohol to be a curious beverage to consume whilst participating in a game which required excellent hand-eye co-ordination.

Presently, his father appeared, carrying two pints of stout in glasses which were etched with a golden harp. He placed the drinks down, and the frothy white head dribbled down the edge of one of the glasses.

Severus ran his finger up the side of the glass to prevent further spillage and then sucked the foam away, sampling the burnt tang of beer. The flavour was similar to the dry stout served at the Hog's Head, reminding him of Hogsmeade at Christmastime.

He continued to watch the darts game unfold as Tobias hung his coat on a hook and then took the seat across from him. As they waited for their pints of stout to settle, Severus noticed he felt strangely calm; he'd always deemed Muggle pubs to be his father's environment, hence his reason for never setting foot in such a place before.

Tobias watched as the player with the yellow darts failed to secure the coveted area on the circular board, and then lost the game to his opponent. The competitors wandered off to the bar to refill their glasses.

"Cheers," Tobias proposed, raising his pint of dark stout.

Severus picked up his own glass, aware of how peculiar this situation seemed; he'd never have predicted he would be sharing a salutation of alcohol with his father after less than an hour.

"Cheers."

Their full glasses clunked mid-air, and they both took a large gulp of cool, refreshing beer.

As taste-buds responded to the unique flavour, his father grinned, prying for a reaction.

"It's good," Severus offered, wiping the froth from his upper lip.

"There's nowt like a good Guinness. Not many places serve it at the right temperature, but this place – they've got it spot on."

Severus took another mouthful. "I expect I'll be coming back for more in the not too distant future."

"Bring that lovely lady of yours," Tobias suggested.

"Tess hates stout," Severus replied. "She'd probably enjoy the mulled wine, though."

"They'll only serve that here at Christmas, so you'd best be quick," Tobias remarked, knocking back another gulp and smiling with satisfaction. "When you goin' to marry her?"

Taken aback, Severus balked at the question.

"You can't let a beautiful lady like that slip through your fingers," his father advised. "She won't wait forever, you know."

"I wasn't aware she was waiting for a marriage proposal." Severus sniffed, turning his head away.

"She might not be, but I wouldn't bet on it. Best to take the bull by the horns, I reckon."

Severus listened to his father's words, feeling a shard of insecurity. Fiddling with the Tiger's Eye ring on his little finger, he knew the root cause of his hesitancy.

"It's not that simple," he replied quietly.

"You're both single, aren't you?"

"Yes," Severus bit out. "But there are things... There is something I need to sort out first."

"Anything I can help you with?"

"Possibly," replied Severus.

The two darts players returned to recommence their game with full pints of bitter, and Severus used the distraction and refocused on the dartboard.

After a minute or two of watching the game and observing the scores chalked up on the blackboard, Tobias asked if Severus knew the game's rules and offered to explain them to him. Drawn into the darts match, they spent the next fifteen minutes spectating.

During the conversation hiatus, Severus considered his predicament. Even if he could make amends with his father, he still didn't know to incorporate the missing element of 'bone of the father' ex post facto; Severus had no idea where to start in restoring the fullness of his magical abilities.

Tobias must have noticed his pondering, for he didn't speak, waiting patiently for his son to re-enter the conversation.

Eventually, Severus tore his gaze from the dartboard and realised their pint glasses were both empty; he'd been so entertained by the game that he'd lost track of time.

Tobias looked at his wristwatch and frowned. "We'd better get back, Izzy'll start worrying. I've enjoyed this, though."

A surreal moment passed, wordless, yet obvious to both men. Neither knew the content of the other's thoughts, but both knew they'd gravitated into an unprecedented place, an area of uncharted territory between father and son. Neither had uttered a word of apology or offered outward forgiveness, but the mood had unmistakably altered.

They stood up together, and suddenly Tobias offered out his hand. "What say we wipe the slate clean?" he suggested, tilting his head.

For a moment, Severus held back. "Tabula rasa," he muttered under his breath.

"Pardon?" Nonplussed, Tobias withdrew his hand a little.

"Tabula rasa," Severus said more loudly. "It means 'scraped tablet' – it's essentially the same thing." He held out his hand and met his father's eye. "Clean slates," he offered.

As his father's hand firmly gripped his, relief cascaded through Severus like a mountainside waterfall.

After two shakes, their hands parted, and they found themselves stunned by a bright flash of white light emitted from the Tiger's Eye ring, momentarily blinding all occupants of the room. Startled, their fellow patrons looked to each other for reassurance, but Tobias recovered first.

"Flash of lightning," he announced to onlookers.

Nodding their heads, the punters turned away, leaving Severus and Tobias studying the Tiger's Eye ring, knowing they needed to quickly find some privacy.

"Best get outside before they realise there's no thunder," Tobias suggested.

Fumbling to fasten their coats, Tobias and Severus quickly wrapped up and stepped out into the frostbitten night.

"What happened just then?" his father asked, fixing his gloves as they stood by the pub's lantern.

"I'm not sure," Severus replied, his voice croaking. "But I need to get back to the house straight away."