XXXVIII: London

Chapter XXXVIII: London

When Snape made his way down to the kitchen early the next morning, his mood was beyond foul. And he alone was to blame for it. He was one of the best potioneers in the country, for goodness' sake. He could just have whipped up a Dreamless Sleep potion in the kitchen sink last night. But no, he had opted for Odgen's Finest instead, and here he was now, with a killer headache and a massive urge for black coffee, eggs and bacon. With any luck, he would be the first one up and could have his hangover breakfast in peace and quiet.

He wasn't the first one up, however, and the voice he heard through the kitchen door did not belong to anyone he wanted to meet early in the morning.

'A memory. A single, very happy memory.'

Snape sneered. Certainly, Lupin's happiest memory was the chocolate cake Molly had served last night. He was just about to return to his room and forget about coffee when Lupin's words made him freeze.

'You must have a happy memory, Morgana.'

Morgana? What the hell was Morgana doing in the kitchen with Lupin, alone, at six-thirty in the morning? Had they not been cosy enough last night?

Roughly, Snape pushed open the door. 'Earning some extra Galleons by giving private lessons, Lupin?' he snarled.

'Morgana happened to ask my advice on how to improve her Patronus charm, Severus,' Lupin answered, as usual not reacting to Snape's sour tone, which irritated the Potions master even more.

'And what did you suggest?' Snape asked. 'Chocolate?'

'I don't eat chocolate for breakfast,' came a small voice.

Snape frowned at Morgana's tired tone. He had been so eager to snipe at Lupin that he had barely looked at her upon entering the kitchen. Once more, she was far too pale for his taste, and the dark circles under her eyes suggested that she had not slept well.

'Coffee?' she asked, already half-way to the counter, and Snape could not help but wonder if she was avoiding looking at him. 'You'll have to do with my brew, I'm afraid,' she said and handed him a steaming cup. 'Remus said Mrs Weasley returned home last night.'

'Morgana and I were just about to fry some eggs,' Lupin announced cheerfully. 'How do you like yours, Severus? Sunny side up?'

Snape glared once more at Lupin. Sunny was not part of his vocabulary.

He was just about to declare that he had no intentions of having breakfast when Morgana cracked the first egg into the frying pan. 'I saw that there is some bacon as well. Would you like some, Professor?'

How could one sound so miserable while offering breakfast, Snape wondered. And how could he turn her down?

'Bacon would be acceptable,' he answered, deliberately turning his back to Lupin and addressing Morgana only. 'And I like my eggs double-fried.'

They were already eating when the kitchen door opened and Dumbledore entered, wearing a bright pink dressing gown. 'I had a feeling that it wasn't Kreacher who was making breakfast. Because, for once, it smells delicious.'

He took a seat and accepted the cup of coffee that Morgana offered him. After taking a sip, he smiled contentedly. 'I have always said that it takes a good potioneer to brew a decent cup of coffee. You have taught her well, Severus.'

Snape scowled. 'I do not teach my students how to brew coffee.'

'Maybe you should.' Noticing that his suggestion hadn't gone down well, Dumbledore turned back to Morgana. 'What about your roommate?' he enquired. 'Charis has never been one to miss breakfast.'

'Charis is still asleep. She went to bed quite late.'

'She and Sirius were up talking about family,' Lupin declared. 'I think it was about three in the morning when I heard Sirius go to bed.'

Snape almost choked at his coffee. So Charis had spent half the night with Black, and Morgana had watched the sunrise with Lupin? Could they all get any more friendly?

'Well, I see no reason why Charis should not have a lie-in,' Dumbledore said. 'She has a lot of news to digest, and Ollivander's won't open up before nine o'clock anyway. There is no rush.'

'Um, sir,' Morgana piped up, looking at Snape and clutching her cup as if it were a lifebuoy. 'Charis and I have been talking and... Well, we were wondering if it would be possible to visit Jack at St. Mungo's?'

'Now that is an excellent idea!' Dumbledore exclaimed.

But Snape scowled. 'I was not intending to spend the whole day babysitting you two. If you want to visit Mr Morrissey, then you better do it quickly after your shopping trip. Because I intend to return to Hogwarts by lunch.'

Not that he had any pressing engagement for the afternoon. He just hated the fact that, once more, no one had asked about his opinion on the matter.

'I'll go and wake up Charis then,' Morgana announced and cast a glance towards the clock on the wall. Right now, any excuse to get out of the kitchen was good enough. She had slept far too poorly to be able to cope with Snape's sour mood. 'Will it be acceptable for you to leave at eight, sir?'

Snape gave a curt nod.

'We'll be punctual.'

When the kitchen door had fallen closed behind Morgana, Dumbledore addressed Snape with a disapproving look. 'I know that you are not what they call a morning person, Severus, but I do hope that you are planning on displaying a better mood later today. I'd hate it for the girls to be infected by your grumpiness.'

Snape put down his cup so violently that the coffee spilled on the table. 'I am not grumpy, Dumbledore.'

'Let us call it un-cheerful then,' Dumbledore suggested with a smile but became at once serious again. 'This is a difficult time for those girls, Severus. They have both been through terrible ordeals lately, and they deserve a nice day in London.'

'I very much hope that you do not expect me to buy the ice cream at Florean Fortescue's,' Snape snapped.

'I think you would enjoy the Frozen Mice.' Dumbledore's eyes were twinkling mischievously. 'Of course I am not asking you to take them to the ice cream parlour, Severus. Just try to be accessible. If they feel like talking to you, please, do not turn them down.'

Snape huffed. Whatever would those two girls want to talk to him about? They had both found new friends last night.

'You know that both Charis and Morgana trust you,' Dumbledore continued. 'Charis is bound to feel confused. She has always hoped to have wizard genes, but never did she expect to be a part of an ancient wizard family like the Blacks. Also, she has to come to terms with the fact that the woman who tried to kill her is her cousin. As for Morgana...'

'Morgana is just as confused as Charis,' Lupin commented. 'While she wants to feel happy for her best friend, she is at the same time feeling jealous. She is an orphan, and Charis has now two families.'

'What would you know about how Morgana feels?' Snape interrupted. Surely, the girl would not have talked to Lupin about how she felt. She was a Slytherin, for crying out loud. Slytherins did not talk about their feelings.

'One doesn't need to be a Legilimens to understand how other people feel, Severus,' Lupin replied calmly. 'Sometimes it is enough just to listen to them. And sometimes, what they are not saying is just as important as the things they do say.'

* * *

Snape, Charis and Morgana arrived in Diagon Alley shortly after eight-thirty in the morning. Thankfully, the rain had stopped, but the ground was still wet from the evening's precipitation, and the girls picked their way gingerly through the puddles, following Snape's long strides. Ollivander's would not be open until nine, but Snape had insisted on leaving early, telling the girls he wanted to be there when the shop first opened in order to be first served. This gave Charis and Morgana a little time to window shop, but it was hardly a joyous affair, with Snape looming over them with crossed arms like some kind of disapproving chaperone.

Just why he had to act like an overprotective parent, neither of them knew. Apart from the odd witch or wizard hurrying by and minding their own business, Diagon Alley was mostly deserted. But still, Snape huffed impatiently and seemed uncomfortable with both girls being out in the open.

The first stop on their swift window shopping tour was the exhibition window of Dervish & Banges, which never failed to rouse interest with their vast array of magical equipment on show, including Sneakoscopes, Omnioculars and, the girls noted with an excited squeak, a rare and gorgeous pair of two-way mirrors.

'Just imagine how useful those mirrors would be once we have left Hogwarts,' Charis pointed out and nudged Morgana playfully. 'No matter where you are, I could always keep an eye on you.'

'As if I were the one who needed to be kept an eye on,' Morgana muttered and craned her neck to see the price tag. 'But unless you being a Black also results in you having access to the family fortune, we'll have to do without those mirrors. Twenty-five Galleons is just a tad above my prize range.'

'We'll just have to get flats with fireplaces,' Charis suggested. 'Then we can use the Floo.'

'Do knock,' Morgana said dryly. 'So I can at least put some knickers on before you barge in on me.'

'Since when do you wear knickers?'

The girls started giggling, and the mirrors seemed forgotten. And neither of them noticed that their Potions master cast a furtive glance into the window of Dervish & Banges after they had set course towards the divination suppliers.

The wide range of divinatory artefacts on display in the front window of Mist & Fortune was as always an attraction for Charis. This time, a delicate miniature brass astrological instrument, used to calculate the planets' movements throughout the zodiacal constellations, had her pressing her nose against the glass and sighing with longing. How nice it would be if she indeed had inherited some money from the Blacks.

Morgana's attentions, meanwhile, were caught by a familiar-looking piece of jewellery in Amber's Amazing Amulets: a delicate pair of silver drop earrings, fashioned like beautiful coiled snakes, with tiny emeralds for eyes. Her heart began to race, and she swallowed hard. It was the sister piece to the set Lucius had given her.

Oh, Lucius. Returning the trinkets, gifts and letters he had given her had stopped her from sentimental brooding, and she had managed to push all thoughts of him out of her mind once Charis had been in jeopardy. However, seeing the familiar jewellery out of the blue made her reel in shock, and she had to hold on to the window sill for support. Thankfully, Charis, who had joined her by the window, was busy laughing over a diamond-encrusted cat collar and musing about who would have more Galleons than sense to buy such a thing.

Morgana set her jaw. She knew that she should not hold feelings for the blond wizard still, and it angered her to have them. She was also angry about the presents he had given her and his seduction of her by his wealth. So typical of Lucius to think that if one threw enough money at something, then one could buy whatever they wanted, even people's hearts and minds.

She dug her nails into her palms as she willed herself not to cry and squeezed her eyes shut for a second, trying to blot out the white-hot lump of pain that was now forming in her throat. It seemed ridiculous to have been bought by mere bits of rock and metal, no matter how many Galleons they cost. Baubles and trinkets, that's all they were, and they were every bit as worthless and hollow as the words of love Lucius had once whispered in her ear. And yet she had fallen for them, had relished being lavished with such exquisite gifts from such wealth as she had never known. How could she have been so stupid? And why were there still nights when she wished that Lucius had meant what he had said?

'Miss Belakane,' came the rich baritone of her Potions master, interrupting her thoughts. 'We do not have all day.'

Morgana shook her head to clear her musings and scurried towards Snape, who was holding the door of Ollivander's open. Charis, it appeared, was already inside. Morgana ducked under Snape's arm into the gloom of the dusty old shop, and once he had allowed the door to swing shut behind him, it took her several moments for her eyes to adjust to the lack of light.

Mr Ollivander was peering at Charis curiously with his pink, rheumy eyes.

'Miss Byrne has a broken wand, you say, Professor Snape,' he wheezed. 'I must say that is a surprise. You don't look like the clumsy type, dear.' He offered Charis a yellowing, kindly smile, which she returned sheepishly. Obviously, neither she nor Snape were going to reveal what really happened.

Ollivander, however, seemed used to discretion in such circumstances and continued. 'Bet it feels like your arm has been cut off without your wand, eh, child?' he asked, sensing Charis' discomfort.

Charis nodded her agreement. 'I... I feel... exposed and useless without it,' she admitted quietly.

'Perfectly natural,' Ollivander commented as he took out a rather battered notebook, bound in red leather, from his waistcoat and started flipping through it. 'Let's see... Ash and Unicorn hair, wasn't it? Nine inches, slightly springy?'

'Er, yes, that's right,' answered Charis, shocked at the old man's recollection.

'I never forget a wand,' Ollivander replied proudly, in answer to Charis' surprised expression.

'Do you... I mean, have you got another one in that... style?' she asked, gnawing at her lip. 'It's just I was ever so happy with my old wand... I don't really want anything different...'

The old man once again looked at her with his kind eyes. 'I know what you're thinking, dear,' he said quietly. 'You think that your replacement won't be as good as your old wand. But I will tell you this: the wand always chooses the witch or wizard. Each of my wands are crafted with the same care and skill as the others. And what was right for you when you first got measured when you were eleven years old may not be right for you now. I've provided countless replacements for lost, broken and stolen wands, and I've never had a complaint yet. So don't you worry your pretty head about it, child.'

Mr Ollivander patted Charis' arm awkwardly, and she managed to give him a small smile as she felt her eyes pricking with tears. That was exactly how she was feeling: she was scared in case she would not be able to find a wand, or that the one she did find was a poor substitute. And yes, she did feel exposed and naked without it, or as if a piece of her was missing. She found it reassuring that Mr Ollivander could understand those emotions. Clearly, he had dealt with many similar happenings in the past. Feeling reassured, she quickly wiped her eyes as Mr Ollivander withdrew his measuring tape.

'Now, dear, I will need to take some new measurements. Obviously you've grown up a bit since you were last here, and that needs to be taken into account, you see. If you could hold your arms out by your sides, please... yes, very good.'

In a few moments, Ollivander's measuring tape had suddenly whisked itself around Charis, and she noted that his battered notebook was now magically suspended in mid-air and had been joined by a quill, which was seemingly writing down each of the measurements.

Charis was measured from hand to hand, from elbow to fingertip, from head to toe and, somewhat bizarrely, from eye to eye. The measuring tape flew back into Ollivander's pocket, and he snatched his notebook from the air as the quill continued to dance around as if pulled by a string.

The old man stroked his chin thoughtfully. 'Hmm. Not too radical, I think,' he muttered to himself as he trudged off to the back of the shop, towards a pile of teetering, dusty boxes.

Charis gave a nervous glance to both Morgana and Snape. Morgana gave her a friend a smile of support, whereas Snape nodded curtly, and Charis was grateful beyond words that they were both there with her for this. It may have seemed inconsequential to them, but to Charis this was a big deal. It almost seemed to her like getting a new wand was in a way symbolic. She had only yesterday discovered that she was part of a very ancient wizarding family, and today she was getting a brand new wand. It seemed to be part of a bigger picture somehow, reflective of how she was growing up, and how both she and the world around her were changing. And sharing that moment with the people whom she cared so much about meant very much to her.

Ollivander came back a few minutes later with a long, black box and opened it reverentially.

'Try this one, dear,' he said kindly, offering the box towards Charis. 'No radical changes here. Ash, unicorn hair, nine and three-quarter inches, slightly springy. The only difference is it's just a little longer than your old one.'

Charis reached towards the box and raised the wand carefully. Her old wand had been made from the same pale wood, but it had delicate twists on the handle. This one, however, had a smooth handle and had a trail of tiny flowers, each with five petals, curving up the shaft. Charis gasped as she held it aloft. She felt a small shudder, akin to a static shock, run down her arm, as several small white stars began to hiss from the tip.

'It's beautiful,' she murmured, turning it from one side to the other.

'Give it a wave then, child,' encouraged Mr Ollivander with a smile. 'A simple spell. Let's see if you like it.'

'Orchideous,' Charis breathed, and to her delight a beautiful bunch of white roses emerged on the shop desk. She looked straight at Morgana, a grin spreading over her face, and Morgana cheered. Snape merely raised an eyebrow, but inside he breathed a sigh of relief. Some witches and wizards lost their magical ability after a traumatic event, and what Charis had been through at the hands of Bellatrix Lestrange had certainly been harrowing. He could see that Charis' confidence had been severely shaken by the incident, but she seemed to be recovering. Once more, he thanked Merlin for small mercies.

'Wonderful, wonderful,' Ollivander exclaimed, clapping his hands together in delight. 'There now, dear, do you like it?'

Charis smiled gratefully at the old man. 'I love it. Thank you.'

Mr Ollivander waved her thanks away as if swatting a fly as he hobbled over to the counter. 'All part of the service. Now then, I presume you'll want to be keeping that on you and not want it gift-wrapped?' he asked, noticing the way Charis was admiring and stroking her new wand. She thanked the shop owner once more and watched as Ollivander put the empty box into a bag along with a complimentary box of Wheelan's Wand Wipes.

'There you are,' said Ollivander, handing over the bag.

Charis began rooting through her bag to find her purse. 'How much do I owe you, Mr Ollivander?'

'That has been taken care of,' Snape sniffed.

Charis looked at him with surprise. 'But...'

'This is not up for discussion,' Snape growled. 'Suffice to say, Mr Ollivander has already had remuneration for his excellent services, so you can put your purse away.'

Charis did as told, blushing slightly and carefully stowing her wand, not wishing to ask questions and annoy Snape any further. He seemed in a really nasty mood today. Instead, she thanked Mr Ollivander once more, and Snape gave the old man a curt nod before all three of them made their way back in to Diagon Alley and up one of the small side streets that led to St Mungo's.

* * *

The Abraxas Marr ward was situated on the fourth floor of St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries. Snape had told the girls to go up there by themselves, telling them that he had some important business to attend to and that he would come and pick them up once he was done. The girls were actually quite glad. Their Potions master's mood had certainly not improved during their trip to Diagon Alley, and having him breathing down their necks whilst they were talking to Jack was something they could certainly do without.

Room four hundred and twenty-nine, the nurse at the reception desk had said. Four hundred meant fourth floor, twenty meant that they had to take the second corridor to the left, and nine – an odd number – indicated that Jack's room was on the right-hand side of the corridor. In fact, his room was at the very end of the corridor. There was a big window, but the blinds were down, and all they could see was a plaque with Jack's name. Carefully, they knocked and then pushed the door open, hoping it would not creak.

Jack sat propped up in his bed. He was awfully pale, and there were several tubes sticking out from under his blanket, leading to odd machines beside the bed. On top of one of the machines stood a radio. But Jack seemed to be too absorbed in his crossword puzzle to actually hear the music.

As the door fell shut, Jack turned his head, and his face lit up as he caught sight of Charis.

'Kitten!'

Charis was by her friend's side in a blink of an eye, but as much as she wanted to hug him, she did not dare. He looked so frail, and the tubes were scaring her.

'Don't be silly, kitten,' Jack told her as she tentatively squeezed his hand. 'I'm not made out of glass.'

He lifted his uninjured right arm, and Charis slipped under it, wrapping her arms carefully around the boy's torso.

'It is so good to see you, Jack,' she whispered, almost too choked up to be able to utter the words.

'It's good to see you, too, kitten,' Jack replied and tightened his one-armed embrace. 'I was afraid you would never come.'

'We almost didn't make it,' Morgana commented. She was lingering by the door, too uncomfortable with the emotional scene in front of her to approach. 'Snape nearly burst a blood vessel when we asked if we could come to see you.'

Both Jack and Charis snorted, but once they had broken off their hug, Jack frowned. 'Why did Snape come along?'

'He was the one who rescued us,' Charis blurted out. 'He and Morgana,' she added and held out her hand to her best friend, who smirked at the puzzled look on Jack's face.

'What?' she asked, her grin growing broader. 'Surprised that Slytherins can be good for something at times?'

The room was filled with laughter, which was interrupted when Charis opened her purse to throw a big paper bag into Jack's lap. 'We brought you sweets,' she announced. 'Honeydukes' finest.'

At once, Jack dived at the bag. 'Cheers, kitten! I am seriously only getting rock cakes and stale biscuits here. What, no Sugar Bats?' he asked, winking at Morgana.

Charis giggled. 'Morgana ate them all. She has a thing for bats.'

'Don't we all, Miss Byrne?' Morgana replied with a tone that could have made a troll shiver. But her smirk betrayed her. 'Now, Ravenboy, how are you?' she asked.

'Apart from being unconscious for three days, a punctured lung, a zillion broken bones and more bruises than a mouldy banana, I'm just dandy. Even more so now that I have some eye candy.' He laughed. 'The nurses here are Trolls, I tell you.'

As if Jack's word had been heard out in the corridor, the door burst open, and in came a stoutly built nurse with ash-blond hair that was pulled back into a tight bun. 'Mr Morrissey,' she thundered. 'Are you eating sveets?'

'No, ma'am,' Jack lied. But the chocolate around his mouth gave him away.

The nurse snatched the bag from him and turned to glare at Charis and Morgana. 'Und two wisitors at vunce? Zis von't do! You vill exhaust yourself!'

'Um, I'll be waiting outside,' Morgana said at once and nodded towards the door. 'It was nice seeing you, Jack. Get well soon, alright. I'm kind of sick of babysitting Charis. She's making me study and stuff.'

Jack grinned and blew the Slytherin girl a kiss before mouthing, 'German,' and pointing at the nurse, who was now checking the odd machines beside his bed. Morgana just managed to shut the door from the outside before she burst into giggles.

* * *

Snape made his way through the seemingly endless corridors of St. Mungo's hospital. Outside the pharmacy, he paused and peered through the thick glass of the window. The scowl on his face could not have been darker.

He could have had a brilliant career as medical potioneer. In his fifth year at Hogwarts, his Head of House had even recommended him for the summer's trainee program. But Snape had never taken the chance. That summer, he had, for the first time, been invited to Malfoy Manor. He had gazed at the Malfoy wealth and power and had fallen for the temptation. And instead of choosing a career which would have let him do good, he had taken the Dark Mark only two years later. And instead of being Head of the Potions Department, he was now a puppet played by two masters of whom he sometimes wasn't sure which one was worse.

He sighed. Both Lily and he had once made plans for future medical careers. They both had loved Potions and often talked of how much fun it would be to work in the same place and to be able to brew potions together all day, every day. Of course, all that changed. One of the reasons Snape now detested teaching Potions was because it reminded him so much of Lily. Every glance at a cauldron was a fresh stab at his heart, every filled phial another lost memory.

Snape mentally shook himself and made his way back to the Abraxas Marr ward. Surely, twenty minutes must have been enough time for the girls to visit Mr Morrissey.

He found Morgana sitting alone on the bench outside Jack's room. 'Any reason why you are not by your friend's side?' he asked, looking down his nose at the girl.

'Jack is Charis' friend,' Morgana replied, completely misinterpreting the word friend. 'He's too weak to have more than one visitor at the time. Naturally, Charis stayed.'

Snape made a noncommittal noise and then nodded towards the book in Morgana's lap. 'I sometimes wonder if you have been sorted into the wrong House. I find you far too often sitting in abandoned corridors, reading. What is it this time? Love potions?'

Morgana smiled at the memory of Snape catching her with a book on Mind Controlling Potions a couple of months ago. That afternoon had been the first time they had talked privately.

'Remus gave me this, sir,' she explained and showed Snape the cover. 'Fighting Your Darkness and Finding Your Magical Light.'

Snape frowned. 'Why, Miss Belakane, would you bore your keen mind with drivel like this?'

'There was no copy of Beedle the Bard at Grimmauld Place. And I am too old for fairytales anyway.'

Always an answer ready. Snape tried hard not to smirk. It felt good to see that the old Morgana was now and then peeking around the corners of the wall the girl had erected around herself. If he were honest with himself, he missed the cheeky witch who made it so obvious that she wanted to get under his robes.

'Are you too old for tea and biscuits as well?' he asked. 'The St. Mungo's tearoom is famous for their stale biscuits.'

He was certain that Morgana would not turn down a biscuit, stale or otherwise. She had not eaten anything for breakfast at Grimmauld Place, and he was certain that she had not drunk any of her coffee either. With any luck, he would be able to talk her out of reading that nonsense Lupin had given her. And besides, he suddenly had the strange urge for company and some inane small talk.

'How come you failed to mention your ambition of becoming an Auror in our last appraisal session?' he asked over a cup of tea ten minutes later.

Morgana shrugged. 'It was just an idea. But I might take a sabbatical. I am not sure I have what it takes to undergo Auror training ...'

'Nonsense,' Snape snapped. 'Your grades are only outshone by some Ravenclaws. Professor Flitwick informs me your Charms work is exceptional. Professor McGonagall says the same about Transfiguration. As for Defence Against the Dark Arts, I rely on your old teacher's judgment.'

Trust Umbridge to destroy a perfect grade score, he thought sourly. 'How is your Patronus charm?'

'Fuzzy,' Morgana replied, crushing biscuit crumbs between her thumb and index finger. She didn't dare tell Snape that she hadn't been able to cast even a simple Shield since the last time she had seen Lucius.

'And that would be why Lupin has offered his coaching, no doubt,' Snape replied, trying to hide the bitterness in his voice but failing.

Thankfully, Morgana did not seem to notice. 'I need an O in Defence to get on to the Auror training. At this rate, it feels like I will barely make a T in the practical exam.'

Once again, Snape scowled. 'Don't be ridiculous. Defence is all about confidence, and a good Patronus charm can only come from a strong memory. The key to it is to immerse yourself in it totally and relive it over again once more... the sounds, the smells, the colours... and the feeling of happiness that swells in your chest as you recreate it...'

Snape broke off as he noticed Morgana looking at him with a curious expression on her face. Suddenly feeling self-conscious, he took a sip from his tea. Of course, the girl wasn't to know what memory generated his Patronus, and he sure as hell wasn't going to give her an opportunity to find out. He had already said too much.

'So, Miss Byrne and Mr Morrissey,' he began, swiftly changing the subject. 'They seem very close. Are they... an item?'

He noticed Morgana's knuckles whiten as she gripped the handle of her tea cup. 'They are close, sir,' she replied quietly, 'but to my knowledge they are just good friends.'

Snape snorted. 'Friends with benefits,' he muttered into his teacup before draining it. Unfortunately for him, he happened to miss both the black look that had crossed her face at his comment and the way she had crushed a whole biscuit in her fist.

Had Snape noticed and asked Morgana about her reaction, she would have been unable to give him an answer. For the time being, she had no explanation on why the thought of Charis and Jack being an item bothered her that much.

* * *

'Do you remember us being at the café?' Charis asked. She was now sitting beside Jack on the bed, and he had wrapped his right arm around her waist. The nurse had told her that she could stay for another ten minutes. This would be just enough time to tell Jack what had happened.

'I remember... the woods...' Jack started. 'The documents we picked up at the WORM, were they a Portkey?'

Charis nodded. 'Planted by Bellatrix Lestrange. She did not want us to see the content of those documents.'

Jack frowned. 'Those documents contained information about your family. What was it that Lestrange did not want you to... Just WHO are you related to, Charis?'

Charis smiled and playfully nudged Jack in his side. 'Aren't you the curious one? Well, two days ago, Snape showed up in Ravenclaw Tower and told Morgana and me that Dumbledore wanted us to come and have dinner with him. You know, estranged, sacked from Hogwarts Dumbledore. And as if that wasn't odd enough, it turned out that dinner was at the Black family mansion.'

Jack's mouth fell open in surprise. 'Black?'

Charis nodded. 'Already before dinner, I was told that I am descended from Phineas Nigellus Black, that my great-grandfather was a Squib, and that my dear cousin Bellatrix Lestrange, née Black, would do just about anything to make sure that no one would ever know about me and my bloodline.'

Jack's brain worked fast. 'Then you ARE related to Bollockschops Malfoy.'

Charis pulled a face. 'To Draco and his mother, anyway.'

Jack theatrically withdrew his arm. 'Let me call the nurse. I think I need a disinfectant bath.' Then he became serious again. 'How about your other cousin, Sirius Black?'

'Despite what you've heard, he's innocent,' Charis declared. 'He must be. Why else would Dumbledore trust him?'

'Don't get defensive, kitten,' Jack said and once more laid his arms around his friend. 'Harry has said for a long time that his godfather is innocent. And I believe Harry.'

'So do I,' Charis muttered. But she wasn't really sure. Harry might have been right about Sirius. But she would never forgive him for what he had said about Severus. 'Aren't you bored in here, Jack?' she asked to change subjects.

'Out of my freaking mind!' Jack exclaimed and mimicked his brain exploding.

Charis giggled. 'I'll Floo you some books, alright?'

'Some?' Jack looked appalled. 'Send ALL of them. I won't be out of here for another two weeks, and I have to study for my NEWTs!'

'So Ravenclaw of you,' Charis pointed out. 'You'd be studying if your head was hanging off a sinew, just like Nearly Headless Nick's.'

Jack smiled and once more squeezed Charis tightly towards his chest. 'And that is why you love me, don't you, kitten?'

* * *

They returned to Hogwarts shortly after lunch. Snape had urged the girls to hurry up after they had left St. Mungo's, and once back at Hogwarts he sent them straight to Ravenclaw Tower. He did not even bother sending Morgana to her own common room. She'd sneak out soon, anyway. After everything the girls had learnt over the last twenty-four hours, there was just no way that they'd stay in their own common rooms with no means to communicate. They had a lot to talk about.

No means to communicate. Snape smirked at the thought. The girls had no idea that he had sent an owl to Dervish & Banges whilst they had been with Jack.

He had heard them talking outside the shop. Obviously, they had started to think about the fact that pretty soon they wouldn't be able to see each other every day. A big change for them, for sure. They had been thick as thieves ever since the day they had arrived at Hogwarts almost seven years ago. And despite all the things they had been through over the last couple of months, they now seemed closer than ever. Neither Lucius nor Bella had managed to destroy their friendship. And Snape doubted that even Voldemort himself would succeed in that task.

Hell, not even their rivalry concerning him had driven them apart. Snape shook his head at the thought. It seemed as if his girls had all but forgotten about him.

What a shame. He had watched them grow from little girls into young women. And soon they would not be his students anymore. Soon, they would be forging their own careers, out in the world on their own, without his protection. Soon, it wouldn't be wrong anymore if he noticed the scent of their perfume, or the soft curve of their hips...

The flutter of wings interrupted Snape's thoughts, and he turned his attention towards the brown owl that had arrived from Dervish & Banges at the window of his office, carrying a small, carefully wrapped package. He paid the owl by tying a fat pouch of Galleons to its leg, and the owl hooted its thanks as it took off into the grey sky, circling high overhead.

Yes, soon, many things would be changing, Snape thought as he watched the owl in flight. And once more, he would be powerless to stop any of it.