Allegory of Love

Chapter Twelve // Allegory of Love

"Ouch, you bastard!"

"I seem to be hearing that epithet a lot lately. Still, Mr. Weasley, it will not make me throw these any slower."

"Do you have to call me Mr. Weasley? I feel like I'm in trouble."

Snape swallowed, an expression of distaste stealing over his sharp features. "Very well... Ronald."

"Thanks, Severus."

A golf ball and a pink china teapot came whirring through the air towards the redheaded boy. He dodged the ball, but the teapot hit him on the elbow.

"Do not take liberties with my name! I did not give you leave to use my first name, and you will refer to me as Professor Snape, or Mr. Snape if you prefer."

"Oh, Severus, stop being such a stick in the mud! We are colleagues now, soldiers fighting together for the good of tomorrow! Let us drop the formalities!" said Albus, who was pouring himself a cup of tea.

"You crazy old codger, I do not wish for them to be so familiar with me! Stuff all the sentimental claptrap about being colleagues-in-arms. They must earn the right to call me a colleague."

"Fine, fine. Keep on, then. Haven't got all day." Albus once more propped his feet up on his chartreuse paisley print ottoman, which clashed horrifically with the pink and orange chintz armchair he sat on. He sipped his tea and sat back to watch the show.

Severus had a brilliant strategy when it came to learning how to dodge a hex. Albus was sure it was a brilliant strategy, anyway. Surely Severus wouldn't take enjoyment out of throwing things at the children... At least, that's what Albus hoped.

He'd taken Albus's Endless Box of Banishment (affectionately referred to as BoB by the older man) for this lesson. Albus's Box of Banishment was much like the Muggle idea of a 'junk drawer'. The problem for wizards was that after over one hundred years of living, a junk drawer was more than slightly inadequate. The Box was full of... well, anything and everything the wizard hadn't wanted to throw away over the past several decades, as well as items confinscated from students. Severus had simply lined the children up and began throwing things at them. His reasoning was that they would learn how to dodge very quickly. Dodging was more of an involuntary reflex than anything else, and practice was the only thing that would give the reaction time needed.

After all, if you can dodge a wrench, you can dodge a hex.

Half an hour and some very strange items later, Hermione flopped to the ground.

"I don't care what you hit me with, I can't move anymore!" she wheezed.

A stuffed poodle and a rolled up piece of parchment smacked her in the forehead. She picked up both items, perhaps to throw them back at the surly professor, but a jolt of magical energy hit her.

"Albus, what is this? It feels... strange." Hermione struggled to her feet and shuffled over to Dumbledore. Gods, all that dipping, ducking, diving, and dodging had really worn her out. Professor Snape put down the toy train he was holding and joined her beside Albus, the boys not far behind.

Handing the rather thick parchment to Albus, he ran his hands lightly over it. He handed it back to her, his finger tapping a blue wax seal holding it closed.

"Do not worry; I don't believe it will harm us until it is unsealed. I believe this is one of the items we seek." A further glance at the parchment brought into relief the eagle stamped into the wax.

"Is this...?" she asked with bated breath. A slight nod confirmed her suspicions. A Horcrux.

"Albus, I have a feeling that you are not telling me something. I do not like being left in the dark when they seem to know what is going on." Snape's expression got surlier, if that was possible.

"And you are right to feel so, my dear boy. Allow me to fill you in; I think it is time. I trust you will protect this information with your very life, as you have everything else I have confided in you."

In that moment, the Golden Trio lost something. The way Albus had addressed Snape... as if he were loved, as if he were honored... Ron, and especially Harry, felt a grudging respect take hold. The greatest wizard of the modern age placed his trust in the spy; who were they to disrespect this man? Though they had been told time and time again that Albus trusted him, some things just don't fully sink in until you see them for yourself.

Hermione, though, saw something a little different. Snape's face had lost its guarded look when Albus called him 'dear boy', and she saw a glimpse of the man he might have been had life been kinder to him. His respect and affection for the man he'd killed heartened her, for surely no one who felt that deeply was truly evil. His face was softer, and...

"So you see, Severus, that is the situation. Two of the Horcruxes have already been nullified, and I believe that we hold a third here."

Hermione was yanked back to the present with those words, and she felt the question bubble up in her. "What is this? It looks like just a tattered bit of parchment..."

The old wizard beamed at her. "Why, Miss Granger, you have never heard that Rowena Ravenclaw created the moving floor plan for Hogwarts?"

She furrowed her brow in puzzlement. "I thought that was only a rumor..."

"It is no rumor. You hold in your hands the original floor plans of Hogwarts, complete with moving staircases and missing steps."

"How would Voldemort have gotten it?" asked Hermione, slightly confused.

"My concern is what it was doing in your junk box, Albus. What in the bloody hell else have you got squirreled away in there, Excalibur?" asked Snape dryly.

"I'm afraid I don't know the answer to either question. It was said that the originals had been destroyed, but Tom must have found a way to obtain it. I do not, however, believe he fully researched the protection spells on the plans. They are Charmed to return to Hogwarts if they are removed – after all, every entrance into this school is mapped on here. He must have thought he'd found a way to break it, but it feels like it was only weakened. As for what it is doing with BoB, I have no idea. Charm must've gone bad when he tinkered with it."

"Could he have found out how to break into the school with that?" asked Hermione worriedly.

"He knows the entrances. He was a student there, after all. He does not, however, know of the many protections imbued in the walls of Hogwarts. The school obeys the will of the current Head and will become an impenetrable fortress if activated. Unfortunately, during the last attack, I was incapacitated, and Minerva had not yet gone through the Rites of the Head. She was not attuned to the school's protections. I was not expecting the Vanishing Cabinet, and had it not been for Harry's quick thinking with the DA, more would have been lost."

Ron looked puzzled. "What're the Rites of the Head?"

Albus smiled and simply said, "It is just as its name implies. It is the ceremony used to instate a new Head of Hogwarts, and it is forbidden for me to speak more on it. You children look exhausted; why don't you go freshen up, and we'll have some tea and talk."

**

Hermione stuck her head under the cold water tap in the cottage's pink and green bathroom. Muscles she'd long forgotten about ached – being a bookworm was not exactly conducive to a muscular physique. She was thankful, at least, that Harry and Ron were having as much trouble as she was. She would have thought that they would be used to this sort of thing from Quidditch, but as Harry pointed out, dodging on a broom in midair is not even close to dodging things under the power of your own body. Hearing Harry and Ron begin whining about girls taking forever in the bathroom, she finished up quickly.

Feeling slightly refreshed, she went back in the sitting room to wait for the others. Albus was already there, putting out tea and fairy cakes. Seeing that he was the only one in the room, she pulled the Arithmancy equation given to her by Professor Vector out of her pocket to get his opinion.

"Sir... I did some more work on the equation, and I drained myself... But Professor Vector did this part, and I... I think I understand what it means, but I wanted a second opinion. Can you look at this?"

He took the parchment from her hand and unrolled it. As he read, Hermione watched emotions play over the old man's face. His shoulders suddenly looked as though he was supporting the weight of the world, and his blue eyes looked misty.

She swallowed, hard. For the first time in her life she had fervently wished to be wrong, but it did not appear to be so. If his expression was any indication, her thoughts had been spot-on.

"Sometimes knowing the future is a hard thing to bear. As with Divination, I do not know that what I see here will come to pass... but it is likely. Do not trouble yourself with this further. The Order has Arithmancers, as you know from speaking with Professor Vector. It is their job to calculate the coming days, and I believe you have already learned enough from these calculations." With that, he re-rolled the parchment and put it in his robe pocket. She wanted to ask him more, but at that moment Harry and Ron entered the room. His warning glance told her not to say anymore on the subject.

"Professor... Albus," said Ron, still having difficulty calling the former headmaster by his given name. "He's been called."

There was no need to ask who 'he' was. "I expected as much. Very well, we shall continue your lessons without Severus for the moment."

Ron and Hermione groaned in unison, both thinking that they would surely need to bathe in Bruise-Healing Paste at this rate. Harry asked, "What was the point in cleaning up, then? We're just going to get all dirty again."

Albus laughed heartily. "Lessons of the body are not the only lessons we shall have. It is important to also exercise the mind, for without stimulation the mind cannot grow. First: You have heard me before, yet you hear me again. Then I die, 'til you call me again. What am I?"

Hermione was puzzled. "You're asking us riddles?"

"Ah, yes. You won't beat Riddle without riddles!" Albus laughed at his own little (terrible) joke. "In all seriousness, riddles are quite useful for making one think. Just as you hone your dodging reflex by exercising it, you will also hone your mind by using it."

"You could ask us harder ones, then. My dad and I used to play riddle games when I was small. The answer is an echo."

"Severus said that wasn't a very good one... perhaps I should try one of his," said Albus, shuffling through a stack of parchment.

"He wrote some too?" Hermione was excited. She'd solved one of Snape's riddles in her first year – even if they weren't difficult, they showed some originality.

"Of course! Severus is quite gifted with words – though don't get cocky because you figured his out so easily first year. I gave him the concept of the potions, poisons, and wine, and his job was simply to write the riddle. These are ones of his own devising, which have no such limits."

The next two hours were spent with some of the hardest riddles Hermione had ever heard. The tea-table was covered in parchment, and she was pretty sure she had ink on her nose. She could see why Albus had called this exercise – her brain bloody hurt!

When night began to creep through the tree branches, Snape had not yet returned. Albus was looking for his cloak when a silvery giant panda headed soared through the door. He closed his eyes and held out his hand to the Patronus, who nudged him gently. Albus's eyes shone silver for a moment, and then he said gravely, "You must go. Lord Voldemort is at the Burrow, and I fear that Severus's cover has been blown."

**

I promise, I'll explain why I chose the panda as Snape's Patronus before the end – though a little research a la Hermione would probably tell you why.

Yes, that was Dodgeball I'm shamelessly ripping off in this chapter. I couldn't help it. My muse wouldn't let it go!