Mysteries and Complications

Disclaimer: See Chapter 1

Many thanks to Septentrion and Sempra for the beta.

He'd dreamed he'd died again: Agony. Green eyes. Lily! Reaching, closer, closer... Almost touching... then... Singing? The humming of bees? Beautiful. Angelic... 'Come back'... Turning, turning... The hospital wing. Agony... Severus groaned in that half-conscious state between sleep and wakefulness, trying to move and finding he couldn't. Like an upended tortoise, he lay stranded on his back, feeling as if he'd been kicked by a Hippogriff.

He strained for his wand to Summon the potion he always kept for these episodes. It took him a full minute to realise his muscle spasms had nothing to do with the Cruciatus Curse.

Gritting his teeth, Severus rolled onto his side and stuck his legs over the edge of the bed. From there, he managed to push himself upright and get to his feet. Wondering how he'd got so unfit that an afternoon's gardening could make him seize up like this, he shuffled towards the bathroom, wincing with every step. Moving eased the pain a bit; experimentally, he flexed his back, catching sight of his reflection in the mirror. A grumpy, middle-aged wizard gazed back at him. Never his best in the morning anyway, his grim expression was not doing him any favours.

Later, after performing his morning ablutions, Severus thought about Hermione again. He had to concede she was agreeable company—and rather attractive in her own way. It was a bugger she was so much younger than him, though—and his boss, to boot. Even in the unlikely event she was attracted to him, any sort of relationship, other than a strictly professional one, would be totally unethical. Just his luck, really; unattainable women seemed to be a common thread running through his life. And then there was Burbage... Something definitely off there... Perhaps a chat with Betty was in order...

Rain was lashing against the window. Tucking his wand in his pocket, Severus glanced outside. Where yesterday there had been dry earth, there were now muddy puddles. ‘No digging today, then.’ Thankfully. He could stay indoors and spend some time sketching out the layout of the knot garden instead. Severus was quite looking forward to the actual planting: Pomona Sprout had volunteered to help during the holidays, and she’d also promised to donate several rare specimens to get him started...

At the sound of a hoarse ‘cr-u-uk’, Severus turned his head sharply. ‘And who or what are you?’ he murmured.

* * *

'Corvus... As good a name as any, don't you think?'

The raven bobbed his head, fixing one beady eye on the bacon rind Severus was holding out to him.

'Come on,' he coaxed. 'You know you want it.'

The bird, however, didn't budge. Sighing, Severus placed his offering on the window sill and stepped back. Corvus immediately hopped forward to claim his treat.

It had taken Severus almost a week to get this far. Evidently, Corvus was suspicious of humans—which seemed to rule out the Raven of legend theory. So how could it penetrate the wards surrounding the courtyard...?

'So. That is the mysterious raven.'

Severus froze. 'It has been a long time, Lady Elizabeth.'

A deep, throaty chuckle sent shivers down his spine. 'Always such a polite boy. Turn around. Let me look at you.'

Smirking, Severus walked over to the fireplace and bowed. 'My lady. Lovely as ever, I see.'

'Flatterer.' Betty the Bloodthirsty smiled, showing her fangs. 'And you, my pale and interesting one? Are you married yet?'

'Who would have me?'

Betty cocked her head. 'Phineas tells me the Headmistress is enamoured of you.'

'What? I... That's just malicious gossip. Take no notice of him.'

Betty laughed. 'I think the gentleman doth protest too much.'

'Have you two nothing better to discuss?' Scowling, Severus folded his arms. 'Now. What's going on in Slytherin?'

'I wish I knew,' Betty replied. 'I went out for the evening to visit the Fat Lady—she was hosting a whist drive—and when I returned, I'd been evicted.'

'He must have had a reason...'

The vampire raised an eyebrow. 'Other than isolating Slytherin from the rest of the school, you mean?'

'But why?' He frowned. 'Think, Betty. Did you overhear something untoward?'

'If I remember anything, I'll let you know.'

* * *

Sighing, Severus removed his cloak and hung it behind the door. Patrolling the corridors hadn't helped to clear his head—quite the opposite; the number of Slytherins he'd caught breaking curfew, and the resulting deduction of house points, had only served to darken his mood.

As usual, a decanter of Vinoveritas was waiting for him. The elf-made wine was a gentler alternative to taking Dreamless Sleep, he'd found, but was best drunk alone in any case. In company, Vinoveritas' renowned tongue-loosening properties could prove extremely embarrassing to the unwary.

Feeling quite drained, he poured himself a glass and sat down...

Purdy nervously tip-toed towards the sleeping figure. She hoped Severus hadn't drunk more than a glass or two—her plan depended on him waking up. A less than perfect Levitation Spell and a rough shake as he lifted off the chair had the desired effect.

'What the...? YOU!' Severus yelled, crashing to the floor.

Purdy squeaked in alarm and rushed forward to help.

'I should’ve known,' he muttered. 'Those times I couldn't recall going to bed... It was you, wasn't it?' Severus reached for his wand. 'Take your pervy little mits off me and GET OUT!'

Purdy took the hint.

Hermione had just put her book on the bed-side table and was about to settle down for the night when she was startled by a very agitated house-elf.

'Headmistress Granger must come quick!'

'Whatever's the matter, Purdy?'

'Headmaster Snape is-is—'

'What Purdy? Is he hurt?' Summoning her dressing gown, Hermione scrambled out of bed and put it on.

'Headmistress must come now.' Purdy grabbed Hermione's hand and Disapparated before she had time to object.

Reappearing in Severus' living room, Hermione worriedly took in the scene. Crouching beside him, she touched his forehead.

'Severus? What happened? Talk to me?'

Severus groaned.

'Do you want me to get Poppy?'

'No.' If he gave monosyllabic answers, he reasoned, he'd be all right. Severus peered at her. 'You're wearing your night things.'

'Well spotted.' She pursed her lips, recognising the squinting gaze of a man attempting to focus both eyes in the same direction. 'Have you been drinking?'

He nodded.

'Right, then. Let's get you to bed. Purdy—'

'Not her,' he snarled. 'She's the one who dropped me. But you,' Severus smirked, 'can put me to bed anytime you like.' Shit.

'Severus...'

'And you can stay—seeing as you're dressed for it.' Shit. Shit.

Severus kept his mouth tightly closed as Hermione, who was trying not to laugh, levitated him to the bedroom.

'Purdy, some Sober-up Potion. Quickly, please.'

'No.' Severus grabbed her hand. 'I'll sleep better like this, but don't go... just yet.'

'Okay.' She sat down on the edge of the bed. 'Just how much did you have to drink?'

'Not nearly enough.' Severus brought her hand to his lips and kissed her knuckles. 'O, Hermione, fair... with the cinnamon hair, and orbs of molten chocolate...'

Good God. 'Purdy! What the hell did you put in that wine!'

There was no reply.

'Give us a kiss.'

'You're really pissed, aren't you?'

'Yes, and I'm really ugly, but at least I'll be sober in the morning.’ He frowned. That didn’t sound right.

'I think you're supposed to say "and you're ugly, but at least I'll be sober in the morning".'

'No...' That wasn’t right, either. 'You're not ugly; you're beautiful.'

Now he was hallucinating. 'Purdy! Come back here! Professor Snape is ill.' Extricating her hand, Hermione got up and walked over to the door. It wouldn't open.

'Purdy!'

'It would appear, Headmistress,' said a voice behind her, 'that we have been set up.'