Unspeakable Reunion

Chapter Two

Unspeakable Reunion

One week after the Battle of Hogwarts, the Headmistress's office looked much the same as it had before Severus's death; evidently Minerva McGonagall had not yet found time to alter the room to her own taste. Seven days ago, Tess had kissed Severus for the first time in this very same office and then watched him leave to find Harry Potter. A couple of hours afterwards, she had found the Headmaster's body bathed in blood on the floor of the Shrieking Shack, his lifeless eyes fixed into the distance, his Tiger's Eye ring still on his little finger.

It felt like a lifetime ago.

The new Headmistress of Hogwarts was busy opening another batch of owl post, and Tess was sitting at the side of her desk, drinking the tea which Minerva had insisted upon providing. The Acting Minister for Magic had been due to arrive half an hour previously; Kingsley Shacklebolt was in demand now that the wizarding world had started to wake up from its official period of mourning, so it was to be expected that he was running late.

Dumbledore was dozing in his portrait behind the desk, undoubtedly poised for instant alertness once the Minister arrived, and there remained no commissioned portrait of the more recently-departed Headmaster. Given the enormity of the task of repairing the shattered castle, missing paintings were low on the Ministry's agenda.

Today, instead of feeling angry about it, Tess felt relieved not to see a portrait of the man she loved, when only last night she had been alongside him on the riverbank discussing his decision to be brought back to life. Perhaps it was fortuitous that no portrait had been procured; Sybill Trelawney might consider it a bad omen.

The door to the office flung open, and Argus Filch escorted Kingsley Shacklebolt inside. The Acting Minister for Magic was resplendent in indigo robes, and he smiled when he saw the room's inhabitants, both of whom were familiar members of the Order of the Phoenix.

Kingsley strode towards Tess, and she stood up to shake his hand.

"Congratulations on your promotion, Professor Marchbanks."

Tess grinned, reflecting his widening smile.

He planted a friendly kiss on her cheek. "Hogwarts is lucky to have you," he said, touching her arm gently.

"Thanks, Kingsley."

Behind them, Professor McGonagall cleared her throat in a business-like manner, and Kingsley turned to greet her. Tess forgave the Headmistress's impatience; the anti-Horcrux was not her main concern whilst there remained a school to be rebuilt and OWL and NEWT examinations to be organised.

After the shaking of hands, and the addressing of various portraits, Kingsley accepted a cup of tea from the tartan-clad teapot. "And now, to business," he said as he made himself comfortable in an armchair adjacent to the desk. "Tess, I'm happy to say that we've secured the services of the Department of Mysteries, who shall look into possible ways of restoring Severus's soul to physical form. I've assigned an Unspeakable to the case who has five years' experience – on and off – in the Death Chamber, and a particular interest in the complexities of Dark and Light magic."

"Thank you, Minister."

"You're most welcome." Kingsley paused to take a sip of his tea, and Minerva offered him a plate of shortbread. After Kingsley accepted two biscuits, the Headmistress passed the selection to Tess, who politely declined.

Minerva leaned forward. "Tess, I hope this now means you'll be able to focus your energies on teaching your OWL and NEWT Potions students, to prepare them for their examinations?"

"I'll certainly do my best," Tess replied, swallowing the ball of guilt lodged in her throat and reminding herself of the reason she had sought help from the Ministry in the first place.

Following the official sacking of the Carrows, Horace Slughorn and Sybill Trelawney had agreed to temporarily teach Defence Against the Dark Arts and Muggle Studies respectively. Since Slughorn intended to take his second retirement at his earliest opportunity, Tess had been offered the permanent position of Potions mistress. She wished she didn't feel so obliged to help at Hogwarts, when in reality she'd prefer to devote her time to Severus's resurrection.

"Can you disclose the identity of the Unspeakable you have assigned to the case, Kingsley?" asked Dumbledore's portrait.

"Yes, I can, but I must insist upon a Tongue-Tying Curse for those who know his name." Kingsley turned to the two witches in the room. "Do you give your consent?"

Tess and Minerva nodded their acceptance, and Kingsley performed the spell without delay.

"You shall only be able to reveal his name to those who are already aware of his identity," Kingsley explained. He then turned to answer Dumbledore's question. "You may not know him, Albus, as he isn't a Hogwarts' alumni. His family sent him to the Durmstrang Institute. He is a fellow by the name of Clement Turnstone."

Tess gripped the armrests of her chair, starting to feel lightheaded and queasy.

"Clym?" she asked.

"Why, yes!" Kingsley replied. "You know him?"

Tess nodded, and the ball in her throat doubled in size.

"Marvellous! You can get to work this afternoon; he's expecting you in his office on the ninth floor of the Ministry at three o'clock. Look for the candelabrum which has thirteen candles and take the door to its left." Kingsley frowned slightly. "Is that convenient for you, Tess?"

Tess's conflicting emotions battled their way to the surface. "Yes, Minister. It's just..."

"Excellent," Minerva said brightly. "Tess, Madam Pomfrey is expecting you in the Hospital Wing at nine o'clock this evening. I'm sure you'll have plenty to discuss with Severus, but do try and get some sleep tonight, won't you? We have a full agenda tomorrow."

Tess nodded half-heartedly, unable to voice her fears. She shuffled glumly out of the office as Kingsley and Minerva pulled together their chairs and convened their meeting.

Tess stood in the circular Entrance Chamber of the Department of Mysteries, hesitating before she knocked on the aforesaid door. In truth, she had been in two minds about attending the appointment at all.

One part of her wanted to believe she could manage without Clym's help; perhaps Severus's resurrection would take a bit longer, but the whole business would be much less complicated. For her, at least.

Another part of her knew the Department of Mysteries would be Severus's best chance. Whatever her discomfort, Tess realised she had to do this for him.

Her introspective contemplation lasted long enough to activate the chamber's defences, and the room began to spin like a dizzying carousel. Blue candlelight blurred into horizontal strobes, and Tess closed her eyes to steady herself against the vertiginous sight. She had been in this chamber once before and was prepared for its disorientating tactics. But this time she knew which door led to Clym.

When the rotating walls came to a halt, Tess opened her eyes and located the portal. She steeled herself to knock on its cool, black surface. The handleless door swung open immediately. The Unspeakable showed no hesitation. No reluctance.

Even in the flickering blue light of the chamber, Clym's eyes sparkled. Irises the colour of green olives transported Tess back in time, ten years or more. She had witnessed the sparkle of those eyes in the murky light of a lunar eclipse, in the dense fog of an autumn day, and in the candlelight of his Ministry office. At least now his office had moved. Once upon a time, she had been familiar with his place of work on the third floor, during her first job in the Accidental Magic Reversal Squad.

"Tess, it's so good to see you." He smiled: a warm, friendly greeting, of the sort offered to a long-lost friend.

His brown, curly hair had a light smattering of grey, and the stubble on his chin was new; Tess's eyes traced its extent around his face and neck: a three-day old growth designed to look rugged. Nevertheless, she suspected it required arduous maintenance, much like the man himself.

Clym laughed, amiable and throaty, like always. He rubbed a stubbly cheek with the length of his fingers. "This is my new look," he said, a trace of hesitancy in his voice. "What do you think?"

"It suits you," Tess said, clearing her throat.

The words were out before she'd even realised their extent; already she'd bestowed a compliment upon him. Her heart thudded sickeningly against her breastbone.

"You look absolutely beautiful," Clym said as he ushered her into the corridor which led to the offices of the Unspeakables.

She knew he was fibbing. The week which followed the Battle of Hogwarts had been tiring and fraught, and strong emotions took her by surprise several times a day. Tess's life hadn't been her own; she had been assisting in the initial clearing up of the castle and attending funerals of friends lost in battle. The only calmness had been on Severus's riverbank, but this too had contributed to the dark circles underneath her eyes.

Despite knowing all this, she blushed.

Clym opened the door to his office. It was a bright room with a large enchanted window. Apparently, Magical Maintenance had chosen sunshine and showers as the weather of the day; a grey raincloud was disappearing and making way for white cumulus clouds and splashes of blue sky.

"The Minister for Magic has explained the brief," Clym said reassuringly as he leaned against his solid walnut desk and clasped his fingers together. "Do you have the item with you?"

"Yes," said Tess, her fingers reaching automatically for the Tiger's Eye ring hanging from the chain around her neck. As her fingers rubbed the edges of the silver band and gemstone, she found herself besieged by insecurity. Severus had worn the ring on the night of his death, using it to communicate with her during his dying moments. In that singular moment of self-forgiveness and love, his soul had healed, creating the anti-Horcrux which now held his essence.

Could she find it in herself to hand over her hopes and dreams to this man?

She watched white clouds racing across the artificial sky, spurred on by the invisible wind, and wondered what nature's plan would yield.

"May I see it?"

Clym's voice shattered her thoughts.

She knew she had to do it for him. For Severus.

Tess unhooked her necklace, and the anti-Horcrux slid from the chain into the cradle of her fingers.

Clym held out an upturned hand.

With her heartbeat thumping in her throat, Tess placed Severus's soul in the palm of her ex-lover's hand.

Clym accepted the Tiger's Eye ring, noticing Tess's tired and broken appearance, and he felt his heart breaking; the Tess he'd remembered was gone and had been replaced by a woman with hollows for eyes. She seemed like a little lamb lost, and he wondered what had happened to the energetic and vibrant woman he had once known.

Certain that she wouldn't want him to be overbearing, Clym hid his reaction. The passing years had taught him to conceal his feelings, and so he protected her from his concern, shock, and the ache in his chest.

Tess's distrust seemed to fill the room like a miasma, and Clym fought against the suffocating influence of her misgivings, understanding that she had good reason for not trusting him. After a decade of enforced separation, he also recognised what it must have cost her to arrive at his door and ask for his help.

Trying to ignore Tess's visible trepidation, Clym studied the ring which contained the soul of a man: a man whom Clym deemed to be a monster and whom Tess seemed to love. He reflected that it was just like her to see the light in a soul so dark.

The feel of the anti-Horcrux against Clym's skin seemed to burn a hole somewhere deep inside his stomach. He didn't recognise the feeling at first; he only knew he felt nauseous and a little lightheaded.

Neither of them spoke for several long seconds. Eventually, Clym placed the item on the bronze scales resting upon his bookcase. They didn't move. The magic was indeed Light, as Dumbledore had expected.

"What are you going to do with the ring?" she asked nervously.

Clym's heart felt as though it were being squeezed by an iron fist. He turned his back on Tess as he took the anti-Horcrux to his desk. He couldn't let her see his emotions. Not yet, at least.

"There are a series of tests I shall need to perform to investigate the magic surrounding the ring and build a theory of its inception."

He expected – he hoped – the tests would take some time, but he didn't voice this prospect to Tess. Not at first.

"We have a theory already," she answered abruptly. "Professor Dumbledore and I think we know how the anti-Horcrux was formed."

Clym turned to face her. "Forgive me, Tess, but your theories are based on conjecture. We can't risk revivification until we have a thorough grasp of the magic involved. If we were to miss something subtle, the soul contained within might be lost... or worse still, trapped in limbo. This isn't just an opportunity to study hitherto unknown magic; it's also the best chance we have to get it right."

This was the truth. And she knew it.

"OK," she agreed reluctantly.

"Don't worry; you're in safe hands, Tess."

Her eyes narrowed, and she cast them down upon the floor.

Clym realised then how hard this was for her. At that point, he had no way of knowing how hard it would be for him.

After their first meeting, Tess refused to visit Clym again at the Department of Mysteries, preferring somewhere more public.

They met for lunch at the Leaky Cauldron. The place was crowded. She couldn't have picked a more incongruous setting; how they would be able to discuss the private business of Snape's resurrection in a room containing so many prying eyes and potential eavesdroppers lay beyond Clym's comprehension.

Tom, the landlord, cheerily placed two bowls of spiced pumpkin soup and a plate of bread in front of them, whilst Tess sipped her water.

"Are you sure you don't want mead, or a Butterbeer, or something?" Clym asked.

"No, thanks."

He picked up his spoon and stirred the thick soup slowly. "It's going to be difficult to talk here. Why don't you come back to my office when we've eaten?"

Tess retrieved her wand, and Clym recognised it immediately: elm and dragon-heartstring, the only one she'd ever owned, purchased from Ollivander's when she was eleven-years-old.

With a swift flick, Tess muttered, "Muffliato!"

"What was that?" he asked suspiciously.

"It's a spell I learned from Severus," she replied, replacing her wand beneath her cloak. "We have all the privacy we need."

"Marvellous." Belatedly, Clym realised the word had probably sounded a touch sarcastic.

Despite the new-found confidentiality afforded by the charm, it took a long time for conversation to resume. They ate in silence, breaking bread and dipping it in the pumpkin potage, like long-time acquaintances with no need for words. Their appearance couldn't have been further from reality.

"So, what are your initial findings, Clym?" She met his eyes with a steely-grey stare, guarded and wary.

"The answers gleaned so far have been positive," he replied, wiping his bowl with a slice of bread to finish his meal.

She waited until Clym finished eating, watching him intently. "You've had the ring for a whole day," she stated.

He fished the anti-Horcrux out of his pocket and handed it over, watching her as she threaded the ring into her necklace and tucked it out of sight. "And?" she demanded.

"I can tell you that the magic is indeed Light, and the ring contains a whole soul."

"Anything I don't already know?"

Clym bit the inside of his cheek. "Not as yet, no."

Tess rolled her eyes before looking away.

"Tess, this will take time. You'll need to be patient. I can't provide all the answers straight away; magic as powerful as this will not yield its secrets in a hurry. We must be certain before we proceed."

She sighed, worn-out. "I know. Fortitude requires too much of me at the moment."

"How are things at Hogwarts?"

She closed her eyes for a moment, summoning resilience. "Crazy."

Her eyes focused on the bar, watching two hags attempting to procure Butterbeers.

Clym noticed that Tess's profile remained beautiful, even with the fine stress-lines on her face. Her wavy dark brown hair was longer than he remembered. So many years had elapsed since he'd said goodbye to her. She had aged. They both had. She turned to face him and caught his wistful gaze.

Clym was immediately and unequivocally undone. "It's been a long time, Tess. Too long."

A flash of anger appeared on her features: an old, suppressed resentment. "I can't believe you're saying that to me!"

He flinched, knowing he'd lost command of himself; Tess had unwittingly begun to unravel his defences, and he hadn't been able to prevent the breach. He wondered if they were destined to repeat this pattern forever. Clym considered what he was supposed to say in reply, but there was no coherent response. For the first time, he seriously questioned his ability to work alongside her without repeating the mistakes of their past.

"I'm sorry," he said.

Before she could pounce on the apology, Tom reappeared and cleared away their empty plates.

Clym took a sip of nettle wine, hoping she'd leave the topic alone. Tess, however, perceived his chastened and shamefaced demeanour, after uttering the apology she had always wanted to hear.

He was sorry.

After all the years she'd spent wondering, waiting, and trying to forget him, he chose now to show his remorse. Part of Tess stifled the urge to laugh. What emerged instead was a low rumble in her throat, barely discernible above the background noise of the Leaky Cauldron.

"Have you any idea how many years I longed to hear you say that, Clym?" she asked, scarcely in control of the words escaping her lips.

Clym, for his part, had the decency to appear embarrassed. Tess found this deeply satisfying. She had stopped yearning for his apology a long time ago, but now he exhibited repentance when none was sought.

Vaguely aware his request for forgiveness had meant more to her than she would have anticipated, Tess struggled briefly with herself. She knew it would be easier... safer... to deny the apology's importance, to brush it off as irrelevant. Her picture of herself would remain unblemished. But she also knew the cost of such a denial, and she had paid that price too often in the past.

Tess studied his face closely, trying to understand what had brought him to this juncture.

"My behaviour was reprehensible," Clym said quietly. "I know that now."

An old, broken part of Tess began healing in response to his words, and she took a moment to reconcile what she had just heard. However, his words ultimately led to more questions.

"Why did you make it so hard for me?" Tess asked. "Why did you leave in that way?"

Clym shook his head. "It seemed for the best."

"The best for whom?"

"For you, Tess. You needed a chance to move on, get away from me, and start afresh. You would never have done that if I'd hung around. We both know that."

Tess felt a flare of indignation. "You took your decision without talking to me first. Have you any idea how painful it was to discover you'd transferred to the Department of Mysteries without so much as a by-your-leave?"

"You have to understand that my only other alternative was to Obliviate you. It seemed the lesser of two evils. But by then, I'd taught you the basics of Occlumency, and I knew you'd fight me. I just couldn't bring myself to do it. Sometimes, I think Obliviation would have served you better..."

"How dare you suppose such a thing?" Tess snarled, sensing the release of previously suppressed anger. "You dodge responsibility, even now?"

"No. I don't. And I didn't, not even then. I just wanted to ease your burden and make right all the times I wronged you."

"A convenient excuse." Tess became aware of her heartbeat thumping forcefully in her chest. She cast her bitter gaze upon the pub's stone floor.

Clym sighed. "I don't expect you to believe me."

This made her look up. His face seemed wearily sincere and full of shame. At least he wasn't deluding himself anymore, Tess reflected. After all that had happened between them, she couldn't be expected to believe him. And she knew this would pose a problem.

"Where does this leave us, Clym?" she asked softly.

His olive-green eyes searched hers for a moment. "What do you mean?"

"I'm asking you to help me resurrect Severus, the man I love, the man I intend to spend the rest of my life with." Sitting back in her seat, Tess opened her palms and rested them on the table. "How am I supposed to trust you?"

Clym didn't miss a beat. "You can trust me. I owe you that much."

Tess absorbed his genuine-sounding words and his earnest expression. His pledge seemed authentic, but she also felt the need to be as clear as possible.

"Will you do everything in your power to bring him back to life?"

Clym's gaze lingered on Tess, and she sensed the turning of cogs, thinly veiled but present below the surface. Perhaps he squirmed at being pinned down, or perhaps he was planning his exit strategy. Tess could not be sure. However, when he answered, his voice was warm and assured.

"I will."