Year Three: Memories and Meetings

Year Three: Memories and Meetings

The news that Snape would not be teaching Defense Against the Dark Arts had lost its sting by the time Dumbledore got around to telling him personally. He had sat and seethed thoroughly about the news after Madame Collins had left and cursed the name of Remus Lupin for being awarded what was rightfully his.

Once Dumbledore announced his decision to give the position to the drooling flea-bag, the look of mild interest and contemplative nodding Snape gave had been well practiced and looked authentic. The Headmaster seemed impressed with the grace and dignity in which Snape accepted the news. And yet again, Snape offered his services if the situation happened to change in the near future. With great restraint he resisted adding, 'Or if the rabid beast manages to rip out the throats of too many students.'

The simple request to borrow Dumbledore's Pensieve was not hard to broach after being given such a dose of rejection. The Headmaster seemed all too willing to offer anything to soothe the Potions teacher's insulted pride. Snape made sure to over-emphasize the healing effects the kind gesture had on him. Then he took the heavy, shallow stone bowl and slipped back to the quiet confines of his chambers to see with what exactly Madame Collins had decided to placate him this time.

Snape uncorked the vial and slowly tilted it over the Pensieve. He watched the silver threads begin to pour out and float in a wispy manner until they fluttered into the bowl. Leaning over to peer intently into the pool, Snape began to see images form, and suddenly he was pulled in and down into the memory.

He found himself in the Potions classroom of his youth and Madame Collins standing before Professor Slughorn's sixth year class as though it were her own. The eyes of many familiar faces were turned to her. Snape saw James Potter, Remus Lupin, Sirius Black, Lily Evans, and several others, including himself, tucked into the back corner. Never before had he realized how miserable and cowering he looked back then. His nose was pressed into a book, and his quill was scribbling furiously as Madame Collins spoke.

She looked much as she did now. Her hair was perhaps a bit darker and fewer wrinkles etched her face. But her voice rang clear, and her manner was as animated and choreographed as he had always remembered. Teaching Potions seemed to make her come alive, and it was no wonder the subject had immediately entranced Snape.

Assigning homework was her last order of business before she dismissed everyone with a flourish of her hands and a bright smile, saying Slughorn would be returning in only a few days time. Snape saw the younger version of himself still engrossed in writing as everyone else began to gather their things and leave.

"What are you doing there, Snivelly?" James Potter approached along with Lupin. "Writing Madame Collins a love note?"

"Instead of sealing it with a kiss, he can just add a grease spot," Lupin interjected cheerfully, rubbing his newest scar at the tip of his chin.

Potter laughed and nodded in agreement.

The young Snape barely glanced up as he slammed his book shut and began to cram papers into his bag as quickly as possible.

An older, more hardened Snape could only stand back and wish the most vicious curses on the pair as he watched his young self simply glare angrily and mutter foul words as he hurried away from the duo.

He wished he could follow. He wished he could talk to the young man and tell him to not let them see how their words wound and humiliate him. He wished he could give himself the same talk he had given Davindra Collins two years prior. Perhaps he could save himself some of the anguish that was still to come.

Potter and Lupin laughed and elbowed each other in congratulations of their newest insult when Madame Collins stepped behind them.

"You boys can never resist picking on a vulnerable target, can you?"

There was a coldness to her tone that made Potter and Lupin stand a little straighter and exchange self-conscious looks.

"Will you two never tire of being bullies?" she asked, her pale eyes drilling into them. "You are almost grown men and still you want to play senseless, cruel games at the expense of others just to amuse yourselves."

Snape had always felt that Madame Collins was one of the few at Hogwarts who had been on his side during his education there. But he hadn't know that she had ever given verbal thrashings to his antagonists on his behalf. It gave him a bit of renewed loyalty to the old woman.

"We didn't really mean anything." Lupin tried to speak casually. "Severus knows we're teasing,"

"He isn't so stupid to believe you are teasing, and neither am I." Her reply was firm and clipped.

The boys again exchanged anxious looks.

"We'll go apologize, if you think we should," Potter offered, adjusting his glasses in a nervous manner.

"No," she said, adding a chilly smile. "I don't think you should bother. It wouldn't be worth much now, would it? I know there is only a year left for you here at Hogwarts, but if I see or hear of you or any of the rest of your little gang of miscreants bothering Severus Snape again, you will have me to answer to."

She held their gaze like a vice until she finally uttered, "Dismissed."

The two seemed to shuffle nervously before they turned to leave the classroom. The book bag Potter carried caught on the edge of a desk as he tried to hoist it onto his shoulder, and the contents spilled onto the floor in a heap.

Snape couldn't help but chuckle as he watched both boys scurry to gather the items. He wished the younger Snape could have seen what humiliation happened behind his back; it would have done his ego a world of good.

As he looked on, he noticed a familiar book on the floor by Madame Collins's foot. When Potter went to reach for it, she stamped on top of it, then bent down to pick it up herself.

"It's just a notebook," Potter said, hurriedly trying to retrieve it from her hands.

She brushed his hand away as she flipped through the book.

"Memory altering charms?" she read aloud and gave him a curious look. "Branding spells? Horcruxes? Mr. Potter, where did you get this illicit book?"

A look of panic skittered across his face as his mouth struggled to find the right words.

"It's from the library, I was wanting to check on... " He knew his lies were not convincing and seemed to give up.

Madame Collins shook her head slowly with a slight smile. "Tell the truth, James."

The boys again exchanged looks. Snape wondered if they always had to check with each other for reassurance any time one was to express a simple thought.

"Well, I'm not real sure. I think I might have traded for it at Hogsmeade a few weeks back. I... I... I can't exactly remember where," Potter stumbled on pointlessly, again touching his glasses.

She opened the front of the book, and Snape knew she was reading the name of Tom Riddle printed on the inside cover in a scratchy lettering.

"You know a book of this sorts is prohibited at Hogwarts. Perhaps even outlawed by the Ministry itself." She looked to see if her words had effect on the two before her.

"Look, I might have realized it was a restricted book, but I never thought it would be down right unlawful," Potter insisted. "I was just curious."

"You have a book that suggests ways to bind people to evil doings, and you don't suspect it could be dark magic?" Madame Collins's eyes widened in mock astonishment. "I could turn you in to the Headmaster, or I could turn you in to the Ministry."

Potter and Lupin looked defeated and desperate. Both seemed to be searching for words to soothe the situation but found none.

"Though, seeing as it is your last year and it would be a shame to nip two such promising futures in the bud, I might be willing to make a deal." She walked the room with the book in her hand and her eyes shifting about, as if searching out her plan from the heavens.

"I will keep this book and not say a word to anyone else about it if you two promise to never again torment Severus Snape or any other student for the remainder of your time here. After your graduation, I will destroy this work so it will cause no more troubles. But if you go back on your promise and I so much as suspect you of bullying a flobberworm, I will divulge all I know about this book and you two. At that point detention would be the least of your worries."

Snape felt like applauding. The beaten, forlorn looks on Potter and Lupin's faces were priceless.

They both nodded to her agreement with mumbled words and downcast eyes.

"Now you may go. You'll be late for your next class." Madame Collins discharged them with her cool smile and backward glance as she walked to Slughorn's desk to deposit the book in a drawer.

Potter and Lupin's eyes followed the book on its journey, and even Snape could see their brains recording the exact location of their departed tome. But Madame Collins was smart and undoubtedly would find a new hiding place for the book where they would never find it. Such as, in bits and pieces throughout Hogwarts.

The memory ended, and Snape felt himself pulled back up and through the Pensieve and deposited into his chambers.

Though the story of how Madame Collins had come to have the spell book was intriguing, it surely wasn't all there was to this latest bribe. What exactly her intention was in giving him the memory, Snape wasn't certain. Perhaps it was to show him the depth of gratitude he actually owed her. If his own memory served correctly, the worst of the tormenting had eased by his seventh year. But also finding that Lupin had knowledge of the spell book, especially since he would be at Hogwarts in the next year, was helpful information. And there was the sheer pleasure to be had from seeing James Potter humiliated and scolded instead of praised and excused.

Indeed the enticement had been an almost adequate salve for the burn of another year of rejection from Dumbledore.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Snape did everything he could to avoid public outings in most instances. But there were times when even he could not avoid venturing out into the world to restock the supplies he kept at his home in Spinner's End. If he did this task at the beginning of his summer retreat, then he could be tided over until he had to return to Hogwarts in the fall. He chose the time when he was least likely to run into anyone at all, especially someone he knew. Dreary weeknights were the best.

It was a dim, damp evening as Snape walked Diagon Alley. He kept his head low and his steps deliberate. Only a few stops would be required. Hurriedly he did his tasks. His last stop at Mercurial Mercantile took him the longest because he had to argue with the clerk about the freshness of the black widow eggs and the quality of the Mandrake tea. As he gathered the last of his purchases into a bag, he accidentally stepped backwards and into another customer. He mumbled a quick regret, with only a bare glance in the direction of the shopper, when they spoke his name.

A quiet curse was uttered under his breath for being so close to completing his errands without interruption before he turned to face his identifier. A lovely, familiar woman stood before him. She wore a cloak of dove gray trimmed with silver and white feathers. Long, wavy, platinum hair framed a severe heart shaped face and sharp nose. Two wide azure blue eyes held him in an inquiring look.

"Lillyth Sparrow." Snape unknowingly said the name out loud at the same moment his mind made the recognition.

He had never spoken or been introduced to her, but he had seen her in passing enough to recognize her. And the strong resemblance to Davindra Collins in facial bone structure alone would have been a telling clue. But her appearance threw him for she looked hardly old enough to be anyone's grandmother, unlike Demelza, who wore the traditional etchings of time upon her face. Snape attributed Lillyth's youthful look and elegant, quick, bird-like mannerisms to her Veela ancestry .

"I'm so pleased you recognize me." She spoke with a soft voice and a genuine smile. "We've never met, but I feel as though I should know you from all that my granddaughter has told me."

Snape bowed slightly in greeting and at her gracious words. "Mrs. Sparrow, your talent is recognized throughout the magic world. It would be errant to call myself a wizard of any distinction and not know you."

Her smile broadened and she stepped closer to him, close enough that he could smell a hint of bergamot orange and white jasmine. He found it and the intensity of her eyes quite arousing.

"This is quite fortuitous that I should run into you. Just days ago Davindra was telling me of all the excitement at Hogwarts this past year."

"Yes, excitement hardly covers it at times." Snape found he couldn't help but want to return her gaze and smile. "But I can assure you that your granddaughter was never in any danger."

"Oh, of course." Lillyth snaked her arm through his and began to walk them both towards the door as she spoke. "I've never worried for Davindra's safety at Hogwarts. However, I would like a word with you about our dear girl, if you would."

A spasm of dread and annoyance twisted through his guts as he wondered what this woman would want of him in honor of that child and how she might attempt to extract it. A wicked thought tickled his mind when he considered the infinitely more pleasurable trade-offs he would be willing to make with the beautiful creature at his arm in exchange. He didn't bother to hide the slight lascivious smile that the ideas spread across his face.

"Oh? And what would that be? For I can assure you that Demelza Collins has been quite persistent in the orchestration of Davindra's education."

By now they had made their way down the nearly empty, dark sidewalk and were stepping more and more slowly as they came to the end of the street until Lillyth pulled them both to a stop.

"I can just imagine how involved Demelza gets," she said with amusement. "Do let me apologize if she's attempted to run you over with all her meddling."

'If you only knew the half of it,' Snape thought.

"But she does mean well. Neither of us can help adoring Davindra and only wanting the very best for her."

Lillyth moved to sit down on an bench in front of a closed shop front and motioned for Snape to join her.

"Demelza sometimes forgets that Davindra doesn't come from the magic world," she continued. "When she's not at school Davindra spends most of her time at her parent's home, a very traditional Muggle home. My daughter, Abigail, did quite well in marrying David Collins, and he did quite well for himself, even by Muggle standards. So you see Davindra gets the best of everything no matter where she is. But she must exist in a dual life, which I believe, is quite difficult for her. I think Demelza forgets this and pushes too hard for her to be immersed in magic at all times. And it's just impossible for a young girl to manage."

Snape hadn't given much thought to Davindra's life outside of Hogwarts. But if she did come from two Squib parents, then she would indeed spend a great deal of her life living as a Muggle. For a moment he thought of his own upbringing and how he at times also had to straddle the line between the Muggle and the magic world. But he had quickly chosen which life he wanted to pursue and had turned his back forever on the other, purposely forgetting its substance and meaning.

"It's especially going to be hard for her now," Lillyth sighed sadly.

"Why do you say that?" Snape asked.

"David's sick," she said with surprise at his ignorance. "It's cancer. And it's just a heartbreak for the whole family. I'm not sure that Davindra even knows how serious it is. No one wanted to tell her while she was at school. But it's becoming obvious that he's very ill."

Snape thought back to when he had recently spoken to Demelza, and thought that she didn't look or act like a woman who was distressed over a terminally ill son.

"And how is Madame Collins taking the news?" he asked.

Lillyth again sighed. "Oh, Demelza is being stoic, optimistic and frankly a little dismissive. Either she refuses to believe that her son is actually a frail human man or she... well, of course she cares!" she seemed to say more to herself than to Snape. "Perhaps it just hasn't sunk in yet."

Again she turned her brilliant blue eyes to him. "Davindra is so fond of you. In fact I believe she is quite smitten."

Snape took in an uncomfortable breath of air. "I've discussed that with Madame Collins. I'm sure it is just a temporary teen-age issue that she will outgrow."

"Well, I'm sure you've handled this kind of thing before."

'Is she serious?' He gave a cocked eyebrow with his sideways glance.

"I was just wanting to ask that you remember that Davindra is going to be dealing with a lot in the next year," Lillyth continued. "Her father may not be alive in six months."

She placed a delicate, ivory hand on his sleeve as she leaned in to him.

"Do what you can to keep Demelza from pushing her too much. I fear that she has put all the hopes and dreams she ever had for her own children into Davindra, and I'm afraid it would be too much to handle even under the best circumstances. Demelza trusts you. Davindra trusts you." She inched even closer, her face coming sensuously close to his. "I trust you."

Snape was left with a complicated mix of feelings as she pulled away.

Gathering her pale robe around her, she stood. "I'm so glad we had the chance to meet and to talk."

He also stood, though thankful for the layers of camouflage his coat and cloak gave to the increasing bulge at his groin.

"Likewise, Mrs. Sparrow. It's been an honor."

She smiled and offered her hand to him. Clasping the alabaster fingers in his own, he slowly raised them to his lips and placed a gentle, yet purposeful kiss on the back of her hand. Her eyes stayed on his, and he felt an electricity pass between them.

Without letting go of him, she said, "If there is anything you ever need, Professor Snape, do let me know."

Before he could even begin to list all his needs that she would be more than capable of fulfilling, she turned and made her way back up the street.

Snape was left with the lingering sent of orange and jasmine as well as a growing desire to release some suppressed lustful tensions.