Chapter One Hundred-Ten: Journey to Dun Torc

Chapter One Hundred-Ten: Journey to Dun Torc

Monday, 5 April 1999

Severus finished decanting the last of the deep amber potion into a flask, then corked and sealed it as he had the four other flasks. In addition to the amber potion, there were three medium-sized bottles of a muddy green fertilizing potion and one tall one of a beautiful peacock blue potion. It had been a good day's brewing, he thought with satisfaction. All three potions were new to him, and one was entirely different from anything he had brewed before, so that had been quite enjoyable, although none were particularly difficult. Still, they had required concentration, and likely more skill than an amateur would possess, as well. Only one potion remained, and he could do that one in the morning.

The unique potion that Johannes had asked him to brew, the viscous one of peacock blue, was apparently something that he and Murdoch had developed together and was used as a stimulant when creating Charmed hybrids. Severus thought that he should pay a visit to the Egidius Apothecary one day soon and ask Murdoch more about the potion. He sighed. He supposed that if he were to do that, he would have to bring someone with him. Poppy, perhaps. He brightened at that thought. Poppy might even be interested in the potion, herself. And it wouldn't raise any eyebrows if they were to leave the castle on such an errand, either. They could do it in a completely collegial manner, and no one would think twice about it. And while they were out, if they happened to have lunch together, browse in a bookshop, or anything else, it would simply be sensible to combine their errands. An excellent excuse to spend an afternoon away with Poppy.

Severus had been relieved that Minerva hadn't spoken to him that morning about his outing the previous day...and he had the impression that she hadn't even mentioned it to Dumbledore. Hopefully, once she had seen that he had returned unharmed, she had dismissed both his trip and her worry about him from her mind. Then she and Dumbledore had left for Raven's Ring immediately after breakfast, and he had been left to brew Birnbaum's potions in peace.

Not entirely in peace, since Flitwick had cornered him after lunch to ask him whether he wanted to squeeze in an extra duelling practice that afternoon, and if not, then would he care for a game of Go up in Ravenclaw Tower? Severus had agreed to a game of Go sometime over the holiday, but stressed that he really needed to finish the brewing he'd begun that morning or else the potions he'd started would be entirely ruined. Filius agreed to that, then said that in that case, he'd take the opportunity to Apparate down to his cottage in Berkshire to check on it.

Severus restrained himself from reminding the little wizard that the Headmistress preferred the staff not to leave on their own. He couldn't imagine even the most crazed lunatic vigilante trying to attack Filius Flitwick...and Flitwick would be a formidable target, unlike the vigilante's preferred victims, who were generally defenceless. Another reason he wouldn't worry about his own safety too much, Severus thought, although it would be unfortunate to be caught in a situation of that sort and be required to defend himself. He smirked to himself. He was certain that if he ever were attacked, the attacker would come out much the worse for it, and she would rue the day as she languished in one of the Ministry's new super-secure facilities. He'd heard there was a new prison up in the Orkneys that was almost as desolate as Azkaban had been, just smaller and more modern. Home to some of the survivors of the Dark Lord's former inner circle. The vigilante would love the company, Severus thought with amusement.

Filius was back for dinner, and he again asked Severus about a game of Go. Severus had planned to finish reorganising his office and then finally settle down with his new Nero Newcastle novel, Potions with No Retort is No Refuge. A bit of a silly title, but Aine had said that Morgan chose the titles most of the time, and it was one of his. Still a clever play on words, he supposed.

"I wished to leave Hogwarts for 'Dun Torc' for the evening and read the new Max Powers book that Gareth gave me on Saturday," Severus explained as he declined the invitation.

"Then bring your book up with you," Filius chirped. "We could have a nice evening by the fire in my sitting room. I've got a new book going, myself, a biography of Galen Gamp. It's quite fascinating. He did so much more than just enumerate those exceptions to the laws of elemental Transfiguration that we all learn...and in fact, as he often stated himself, those laws were already well-known facts, he simply set them down clearly and succinctly; in their full form, his list includes not only the five exceptions, but the principles behind them."

"He taught at Hogwarts, didn't he?" Severus asked.

"Indeed he did! He taught more subjects than any other single Hogwarts teacher in history. He was hired to teach Ancient Runes, but then he moved on to Charms, which he taught for four years before becoming the Transfiguration teacher for about a decade. He actually came up with the elemental laws and their five exceptions whilst teaching. He hadn't thought it was anything special, but soon, everyone was referring to Gamp's Exceptions. By the time he was an old man, I guess he was rather irked that all of his other accomplishments and scholarly contributions had been eclipsed by what he saw as an elementary lesson in basic Transfiguration. He also taught Arithmancy for a while, and then Potions for his final few years here."

"He's the one who also said that no love potion and no love spell truly exists, that love cannot be created by magic, only magnified or concentrated. A love potion can only create a facsimile of love, and no spell can do more than compel a fixation that may mimic love in some superficial ways," Severus said, remembering specifically some texts he had read when he had been afflicted by the Adfectus.

"Yes, love was once included on the list of exceptions, according to this book, but he eliminated it in favour of 'lasting emotion.' Personally, I don't think such a spell is ever a Transfigurative spell, in any case, but something more like a charm...although Professor McGonagall and I have had many a lively debate on that topic!...and perhaps that's why it's on the list. I have argued that although one can't Transfigure a person's emotions, one can still use a charm to temporarily influence them."

"As with a Cheering Charm," Severus said with a nod. That was one he had mastered as a third-year. He had been the first in his class to cast it properly, and he still remembered Flitwick's praise...and Potter and Black's later snickers about it. They'd just been jealous because they hadn't mastered it first.

"Yes, and that is a benign example, of course. There are also quite effective rage charms, lust charms, envy charms, and even despair charms. They don't actually create a lasting emotion, but they can still be effective long enough for the subject to act on the emotion, much to their later chagrin or dismay. And that doesn't even take into account the kinds of ensnarement spells one can use to inveigle a person to believe he or she is in love. But such spells never create any real love or attachment. If the spell is broken, the phantasm of love vanishes like leprechaun gold in the sun, and it's usually replaced by quite genuine loathing and resentment."

Severus snorted. "I can certainly imagine that." According to Dumbledore, that had been the doom of Merope Gaunt and Tom Riddle, Voldemort's unfortunate parents.

"So you will join me this evening?"

Severus bit back a sigh. Flitwick was probably lonely, missing Sprout. "Yes, all right. I'll be up later. I do want to work in my office first, however."

"Fine, fine! I look forward to seeing you! Around eight? Eight-thirty?" Filius asked hopefully.

"Yes, sometime around then," Severus agreed.

Severus was placing his Potions texts in order on one of his newly emptied, newly refinished oak shelves when there was a knock on the partially open door.

"Come!" He turned to see Gareth standing in the doorway, gazing about at the well-lit, freshly whitewashed room.

"Is this the Potions master's office?" Gareth asked, blinking. "I believe I took a wrong turn somewhere!"

"Your humour is lacking again, McGonagall."

"This looks ... great, Snape. Honestly," Gareth said, stepping into the room and closing the door behind him. "The shelves are a bit bare, though."

Severus grunted in acknowledgement. "That will change."

"Still keeping some macabre stuff around, though, I see." Gareth turned around the skull that sat on the edge of Snape's desk. "Or is this an old friend of yours you can't bear to be parted from?"

"Leave it be," Severus said, turning the skull to face him once more.

"A memento mori?"

"Something like that. A reminder, anyway."

Gareth nodded. "Time flies, and we must make the most of it."

Severus snorted. "That is one way of looking at it."

"How would you see it, then?" Gareth asked, taking a seat in one of the hard, narrow, straight-backed chairs. "Or are you just trying to stave off fear of death through familiarity?"

"Vanitas vanitatum," Severus said.

Gareth barked a quick laugh. "Naturally. Should have known it! No 'carpe diem' from you!"

"One may seize the day and still recognise that all is vanity; in fact, it can provide motivation for said seizing," Severus replied tonelessly. "But I'm sure you didn't come here to discuss the fleeting nature of life with me."

"Just wanted to confirm plans for tomorrow evening," Gareth said.

"Could have done that by owl."

Gareth shrugged. "I was in the neighbourhood...I convinced Helena to stay at the castle for a while, so I accompanied her back here after our ride."

"Did you have an enjoyable flight?"

"Aye. It was grand. You should have been with us, Snape. We made it to Cardiff in just over an hour. I've flown from Hogsmeade to the Gamp estate before, and it's never taken me less than three hours, which I thought was fast. Helena's something at picking up those magical currents," he said, shaking his head in amazement. "We considered trying to pick up some of the other currents, but Helena was worried about getting out over Iceland or something and not being able to snag a suitable current to bring us back. That wouldn't be a pleasant return journey, I think, not without being prepared for it, anyway. We did take a more leisurely route home, though, after I showed her the sights in Cardiff and we had lunch, and that's why we're only back now."

"I had things to do here," Severus said. "It is good you enjoyed yourselves."

"So, we're still on for tomorrow?"

"I have not changed my plans."

"Good. Eight o'clock, then? I can meet you at the gates."

"That is agreeable. Where are we going? And what about your date?"

"Gwen will meet us at the Three Broomsticks. She's coming from Glasgow, so that's convenient for her."

"And your cousin?"

"She's up at her parents' now...she arrived early this morning. But she'll meet us, too, then stay with me tomorrow night."

"Fine. Was that all?" Severus asked, picking up a few books from a stack on his desk and hefting them.

"I suppose. You don't seem very enthusiastic."

Severus turned and placed the books on the shelf behind him. "I wish to finish shelving my books, and I have to meet Flitwick soon."

"Duelling practice?"

"No. He simply wished to have some company tonight. There are few other staff in the castle." Severus shrugged. "I suppose he thought my company was preferable to none at all."

"I'd offer to stick around and join you, but I'm knackered."

Severus nodded and picked up a few more books, placing them next to the others on the shelf.

"We never made plans for duelling practice, Snape. If you're still up for it. Maybe later in the week?"

"I will be on holiday later this week. Perhaps next week," Severus replied. He twitched a smile. "Poppy and I will be going away together for a few days."

Gareth grinned. "That's great! I hope you two have fun."

"No doubt we will," Severus said.

"Where are you going? Or is it top secret?"

"It is confidential, but your aunt is loaning us her cottage on your great-grandmother's estate."

"Oh, so just a little romantic get-away by yourselves! That will be good for you...hopefully it will cement your relationship. Or show you it's a huge mistake! But probably not a mistake," Gareth added hastily.

"I do not wish to 'cement' our relationship. That has a static and ... uncomfortable sound to it. However, I would be pleased if her attachment to me were to grow." As to whether it might be a mistake, Severus did not want to even entertain that idea.

"Well, the cottage will be a perfect setting for that, I think."

"Poppy seemed to think it was ideal," Severus replied. "However, we are being discreet. Other than you, only Minerva knows we will be on holiday together, and I would strongly prefer that Dumbledore not find out. Of course, Madam Tyree and Professor Birnbaum will also be aware of it, but Minerva promised to tell them not to mention it to Dumbledore. Or to anyone else."

"Right. I won't breathe a word." Gareth stood. "So I'll see you tomorrow, eight o'clock, by the gates."

"Yes." Severus nodded. "I will look forward to it."

"Good! I was beginning to worry that you were just coming along out of obligation or something."

"No. I appreciate your invitation. It will be good to get away from the castle for the evening, as well."

"All right, well, give my regards to Flitwick." Gareth paused in the doorway and looked around the room again. "It really does look great, Severus. But don't be surprised if you get a comment from every person who pays you a visit. It's quite a one hundred-and-eighty degree change from what it was."

Severus snorted. "I will attempt patience with imbecilic remarks, then."

"Appreciative ones, too, Snape, I'm sure! Good night!"

After Gareth was gone, Severus finished shelving his books. He could have accomplished it more quickly using his wand, but he loved the feel of the books in his hand, the different textures of their bindings and their satisfying heft. He could almost recognise them all by feel, and his order for them was aesthetic almost as much as it was practical. Pleasing proportions, pleasing blends of colours and materials. He could run a finger along them, then stop and draw out one at his whim or his will.

Although he had downplayed the changes to Gareth, Severus was pleased with them, and seeing his books in neat rows on his refinished oaken shelves, the clean, bright, whitewashed walls, and the new simple-but-pleasing pewter wall sconces whose lamps gave a warm light, Severus felt almost as though he had an entirely new office and, along with it, a fresh start. Of course, he'd had a new start the previous autumn, but this felt different. It was spring cleaning and the revitalization that springtime brought with it, he supposed, but more than that, Poppy's presence in his life seemed to spark in him a desire for the springtime and a new start. Of course, he'd still have to grade the same tired old essays as always, but perhaps it would be less unenjoyable in his new office.

Gareth was right, though: the shelves seemed fairly bare now that he no longer had his collection of peculiar specimens lining them. He would just have to find new specimens. Ones that were interesting, perhaps even a bit bizarre, but without being gruesome. He had considered bringing his apothecary jar and the framed illuminated manuscript to his office now that it was refurbished, but had decided against it. He enjoyed having them both in his sitting room, the apothecary jar sitting on a small, narrow shelf just above his desk, the Headache Potion manuscript hanging beside it. He sometimes would touch the apothecary jar as he rose from his desk, a funny little habit, but it would make him feel more grounded, settled somehow. It was a habit he'd developed soon after his birthday in January, after he had created a little home for the jar, before he could have dreamed he might fall in love with the woman who had given it to him.

Time to go up and keep Flitwick company, Severus thought, picking up his Nero Newcastle novel. It was rather nice, actually, that Flitwick wanted his company. Although there weren't many staff left in the castle, there were a few others whom he could have asked instead. It was also a rather pleasant feeling to have agreed. A few years ago, he would have tried putting Flitwick off...fairly politely, since he'd always rather liked the little Ravenclaw...and he would have been happy if he had succeeded. Or told himself he was happy.

As he climbed the stairs to Ravenclaw Tower and Flitwick's rooms, Severus realised what he'd always known and simply hadn't reflected upon very much until recently: He had believed that once his colleagues came to know him better, they would naturally dislike him. He preferred to be disliked because he put people off deliberately.

Severus had also been convinced that if he allowed himself to live a normal life whilst awaiting the Dark Lord's return, he wouldn't be an effective spy, that he would become soft and weak, and the Dark Lord would sense that weakness in him. And so he continued to isolate himself during the years leading up to Potter's arrival at Hogwarts.

Nonetheless, they hadn't been entirely bad years, and there had been some peace in them, some structure and order. After Potter arrived, though, it was all downhill from there. And he had believed that it would be downhill to his death, misery following misery until he was finally dead at the end of it all. Potter was only the saviour of the wizarding world, not his. His salvation, Severus believed, lay only in his death and his final release from servitude.

As it turned out, his salvation was far more complicated than he'd thought it would be when he had believed it would require his death. There had been times over the summer, and even into the autumn, when he'd almost wished he hadn't survived, when he'd believed that it wasn't really possible to live a normal life...a good, healthy, full life, one with friends and ordinary pleasures, one in which every day wasn't filled with bitterness or aching guilt. But now he saw that while there might always be some bitterness in him, he didn't need to be its servant. And while he would always bear the guilt and responsibility for the crimes of his youth, it did not need to dominate his life and determine his future. He could work at being deserving in the here-and-now for the good things in his life. Poppy. Poppy was the best thing in his new life, and his bitterness and his past crimes didn't have to bleed into their relationship.

Being in love was wonderful. He used to scoff at the entire concept of "being in love," mainly because his only youthful experience with it had been such an unmitigated disaster. Not only did he lose the girl and alienate her entirely, but he ended up causing her death. He'd scoffed at others in love not only because he had come to believe there really wasn't any such thing, but also because he was convinced it would never be something he would have. If he ever were to attempt it, he had known with certainty that he could only bring doom to whomever he tried to love. No more. No, he loved Poppy, and he would come to be deserving of her love, too, and in his new life, in his reformed life, he would not bring her disaster. He would love her and take care of her and work to make her proud of him.

He was glad that she accepted his confession of love. She never withdrew from him when he said it, or told him that it was too soon to speak of such things, or said that he couldn't possibly know how he felt. Poppy didn't love him yet...or hadn't said she did, anyway...but for some reason that he wasn't sure of, that didn't bother him. It was enough that she accepted his declaration of love, accepting it with kisses, and that she wanted to be with him and not with anyone else.

Just before he had Flooed from her sitting room to the staff room that morning, he had told her again that he loved her and would miss her, and Poppy had answered him with a warmly passionate kiss. That was enough. Enough for now, anyway.

It had been good to wake from the beginnings of a disturbing dream to find Poppy, reassuringly warm, lying beside him in the dark. It had calmed his rising panic, which had overtaken his heart and gut before he had realised that he was asleep and dreaming, and then had managed to wake himself from the nightmare. He fell back to sleep with far greater ease than usual, his hand resting on Poppy's hip. He'd found it a pity that they hadn't been able to spend more time together that morning before he had to leave, but he hadn't complained about that. He hoped he had remembered to thank her for letting him stay. He couldn't remember that he had, so he had likely forgotten.

He would certainly remedy that oversight. First thing in the morning, without fail, he would send her an owl. An owl and flowers. Though he didn't know how he would manage the flowers. He would have to think about that.

He reached the Ravenclaw's portrait, and Paris gave him a quick nod and a smile and vanished from the frame before Severus could say anything. A moment later, the door was open to him. Filius was sitting in his little armchair, his feet up on his upholstered ottoman, a large book open on his lap.

"Come in! Come in, Severus!" Filius sprang up from his chair and gestured toward the sofa. "Please, make yourself comfortable! Would you like a drink? I have a nice elderberry cordial my niece sent me. She makes it herself!"

"Perhaps a small glass. I do not know whether I would enjoy it," Severus said frankly as he sat down on the sofa, "but I'm willing to try it. No point in wasting it, though, if I don't."

Filius chuckled and Summoned a pair of small glasses of cut crystal from a baroque sideboard. "A small glass it is, then." He poured them each some of the deep purple cordial, giving Severus only half a glass.

"Here you go! Cheers!" Filius raised his glass to him. Severus nodded and held his glass up for a moment before sniffing the drink.

"It has a distinctive aroma," Severus said. "Not unpleasant." He sipped from the glass. He paused, then took a larger sip. "It is ... agreeable." Nothing he would seek out, but he could finish what he was given, he thought.

"Excellent!" Filius sat back down in his chair. "Have you had a good day, Severus? Finish up in your office as you had wished?"

"Indeed. It is essentially finished. There are a few small things yet to do, but other than that, it is complete."

"I'll stop by sometime soon and pay you a visit, then," Filius said.

Severus nodded. He put his hand on his book. Time to enter the world of Dun Torc and its redoubtable Potions master, Nero Newcastle.

"And the rest of the day? Satisfactory? You mentioned you were brewing."

"I brewed three of the four potions I am brewing for Professor Birnbaum. The other one I will brew tomorrow. It should take no more than an hour, though it is a more challenging one than the three today. If the timing is not precise at several stages of the brewing, the potion is ruined." He picked up his book.

"I see. How is Johannes, by the way? I haven't seen him since ... well, it's been more than two years now, come to think of it. When he and Madam Tyree arrived to give their condolences to Minerva after ... well, after the Headmaster died. Now I know why Minerva seemed so awkward at the time, though she did seem genuinely bereaved when they were there."

"They weren't at the funeral," Severus said, though he had a questioning note in his voice. He couldn't remember seeing them, though since the funeral had been well attended and he had only recently met them, he might not have noticed them.

Filius shook his head. "Minerva told them not to come. Well, she didn't come right out and tell them not to, but she indicated that the occasion would be ... a public one, and that in any event, she had many of her own duties to attend to with regard to it. She gave the distinct impression that it would be easier on her if they didn't come."

"They're long-standing friends of Dumbledore's, though."

"Oh yes, yes, indeed, they are. Madam Tyree was at school with Aberforth, and her first husband, Collum, was one of Aberforth's best mates in Gryffindor, from what I understand. So they've known each other for many years. As for Johannes, Dumbledore spirited him out of Germany in the early forties when he was in hiding from Grindelwald, so Johannes naturally holds Albus in very high regard."

"Rather cold of Minerva to have shut them out of the funeral," Severus said with a frown.

Filius shrugged. "I have no doubt that they mourned him in their own way. They respected Minerva's wishes and her feelings in the matter. And it was better, I suppose, for Minerva's plans if she were not distracted by family. Although Albus was not dead, as we all believed he was, it was still no doubt an emotionally difficult time for her, and it was vital that she become Headmistress. And remember, very few people knew of their marriage at that time, and only a handful more than that knew that they were a couple at all. It was likely easier for her to maintain the various pretenses required of her if she weren't confronted by her grieving relatives at the funeral. Gareth was the only one of them to come. He and Alroy arrived and left together."

"And they both knew that it was a sham," Severus said. He shook his head. "An odd business, all of it."

Filius nodded. "I wonder what history will make of it all, what they will say about us a hundred years hence. You'll likely be around to see it, and you can think of us here this evening, pondering it."

Severus snorted. "Unlikely. Possible, but ..."

"You're a young man yet, Severus..."

"Then if I become an old one, I shall remember you all and set them straight about one thing, certainly, if nothing else."

"What's that?"

"There was a Ravenclaw clever enough, astute enough, to see through the well-woven fabrications of the Headmistress and Dumbledore," Severus said, "and also shrewd enough to keep his mouth shut about it for months."

Filius chuckled. "Yes, well, I always have liked a good mystery!"

"It didn't remain one for you, though."

"Solving it is the fun of it. Speaking of mysteries, I understand you took a little trip from the grounds yesterday." Filius Summoned the decanter of cordial. "Off trying your hand at a bit of detective work yourself, Severus?"

Severus raised an eyebrow.

"More cordial?" Filius asked, gesturing with the decanter.

"No, thank you."

"So, did Aine's divination the other evening pique your curiosity?" Filius sent the decanter back to the sideboard.

Severus nodded. "It did. Rather annoyingly so. She is truly as cryptic as any Seer I've met, just more plainly spoken. But I gleaned nothing from her that I couldn't have hypothesised myself."

Filius chuckled. "I presume you were not out vigilante hunting, then."

"No, I had a rather different errand." Severus twitched one shoulder. "A favour to someone to whom I ... whom I will never refuse a favour if I can do otherwise."

"Ah. Well, that's a good thing, then. I must say, Severus, I've been very pleased to see how well you've been lately. We were all quite worried about you this autumn, you know...and not simply because of the business with those toxins swarming your magic."

"That is in the past...although I do remain grateful for the assistance you gave at that time."

"And the greatest assistance was from Poppy." Filius took a sip of cordial. "Are you aware that she volunteered to be the sympathetic for you, insisted upon it, in fact?"

"When I asked her about it the next day, she did mention it. Though she did not say that she insisted upon it."

"Rather vehemently, as I remember," Filius said. "She is a very good woman, your Poppy, and I do believe ... I do believe that the two of you make a very fine couple. Perhaps not what most folk would envision as the ideal, but somehow, for the two of you ..." Filius nodded. "Yes, you are a fortunate wizard, Severus."

Severus nodded. He would never deny that, if he could keep her affection and her company, he was a lucky man, nor would he ever deny Poppy's many virtues.

"I think, in fact, that the quality of her sympathy for you was quite revealing," Filius continued.

"I do not believe that the Healing ritual had anything to do with our subsequent relationship," Severus interrupted. "Other than, of course, exemplifying what a fine witch Poppy is, and giving me another reason for gratitude toward her, and, perhaps, drawing my attention to the fact that even then, she was a good friend to me."

"Oh, I did not mean to imply that the sympathetic magic wrought anything between you, not in terms of any lasting magical bond, at any rate. But it did show a strong compatibility between the two of you. In fact, Melina had said at the time that Poppy's magic was quite resonant with your own, more so than any of the rest of us. Now, in itself, magical resonance between individuals may not say very much, but combined with your long acquaintance, your mutual regard, Poppy's own open and affectionate nature, and your common interests, I would say that the resonance between you bodes well for your long-term compatibility, a compatibility that should extend into the, um, physical. Beyond that, her sympathy for you demonstrates a deep and, I believe, strongly rooted affection and loyalty toward you."

Severus frowned. This was one reason why he preferred to keep his relationship with Poppy private for the time being. As much as he liked Flitwick, he did not enjoy having his relationship with her parsed like a problem in Arithmancy. The gossip and advice of others who were less circumspect and less kind than Flitwick would surely be unbearable.

"As you say, Poppy has many fine qualities," Severus replied. "How is your book? Still enjoying it?"

Filius laughed. "I see you do not wish to discuss your relationship or your very fine lady-friend this evening, but if you ever do, I'm here!"

"Hmpf. Yes."

"And if anything ever troubles you at all, I'm at your disposal!"

"Kind of you," Severus said.

"How is your book, Severus? I must confess I haven't read one of the Maximilian Powers books in ... oh, eight or ten years, I think."

"I haven't been able to start it yet. I thought I might last night, but I returned rather late."

Filius nodded. "I noticed you weren't at dinner yesterday. There were only about a half dozen of us. Well, back to Galen Gamp! I'm into his years as Hogwarts Charms master at the moment. Quite an interesting book. Do let me know if you'd like anything...tea, cocoa, another glass of cordial, anything at all."

Severus nodded and picked up his book. Finally: time to get lost in the fictional world of Dun Torc, a school much like Hogwarts, but nonetheless subtly different. The perfect place to spend an evening.

Author's Note: For the genealogically curious among you, you may wish to know how Gertrude is related to Galen Gamp (b. 1739, d. 1862). In the RaMverse, he is her paternal grandfather's great-uncle, making him her great-great-great-uncle. In canon (DH), there was a Gamp who came up with five exceptions to elemental Transfiguration, the only one of which we learn is food, but his first name is never mentioned, and we have no details about his life.

If you remember another Gamp scholar from Resolving a Misunderstanding, that was Gertrude's grandfather, Agyfen Gamp (b. 1817, d. 1924). He's mentioned as having helped Merwyn McGonagall earlier in the latter's career, and Quin says that although Gertrude's father, Gropius, was never academically inclined, Agyfen had been a famed Arithmancer in his day.

Another Gamp, Hesper Gamp, appears on JKR's Black Family Tree. She was Sirius Black's great-grandmother. In the RaMverse, she is Gertrude's paternal aunt, and in Resolving a Misunderstanding, she was at the Gamp estate when Minerva attended the engagement party for Sirius's parents, Walburga and Orion Black.