Part XXIII

Disclaimer: This is a non-profit tribute to the works of JK Rowling, who created and, together with her publishers and licensees, owns the characters and settings elaborated herein.

All my gratitude to my beta AmyLouise. Many thanks to all my kind readers and reviewers.

*************

Part XXIII

Slowly, the second year students took their places in the classroom. Their mood was diffident that morning, as the severe expression displayed by their teacher didn't encourage any manifestations of cheerfulness. James Potter, in particular, looked very circumspect, and Snape curled his lips in an ironic smile...surely Albus Severus had reported his last conversation to his brother, and now the elder Potter wasn't sure of what was waiting for him. Well, he was going to be very surprised.

The lesson opened with the usual lecture: Snape recapitulated the experiments they had performed in the previous session, and then he randomly asked questions to see what his students had grasped. Uncomfortable under his piercing eyes, many of the children sounded hesitant, and Snape's scowl increased, as well as the general nervousness of the class.

Finally, the portrait announced, "As I told you at the beginning of this course, it is my intention to give special assignments to this class. Students who have been allowed to attend my programme must keep a reputation of excellence. Otherwise, there would be no reason, and no need, for their admission."

Snape's brows furrowed while his eyes lingered on the worried little faces raised towards him.

"Participation in my courses implies hard work, commitment, sometimes even small physical risks, enthusiasm and pride," he declared slowly.

He paused; then he added with his hateful smile, "Not forgetting a brain."

The children watched each other in dismay. Some paled, some snorted; the majority lowered their heads in resentment.

Snape laced his fingers, hiding his feelings under his usual ironical expression. The class was reacting as he had expected. With his most severe scowl, he turned to James, who was shifting under his frame in evident uneasiness.

"What's the problem, Potter? Unable to sit properly on a chair? Should I remind you again that we are not on a Quidditch field?"

James looked offended but managed to check his reaction. Snape watched him severely while a deep satisfaction invaded his heart; the boy was beginning to learn. Prompted by those merciless eyes, James glanced at his companions, as if asking for support, and replied, "Sorry, sir, I think that..."

He hesitated, searching for the right words, and concluded bravely, "I mean, it's tough... And we have so many other subjects to study...."

"Disappointing, Potter!" Snape immediately took his most contemptuous tone. "Absolutely unacceptable! Students in this class must be prepared to face a challenge each time they are requested to do so. I thought I'd made it clear in my first lesson. But perhaps, as always, you were too busy to listen at the time."

The boy lowered his head with a sulky expression, and Snape continued with theatrical emphasis, crossing his arms with an irritated gesture. "Your objections are pathetic! I am extremely disappointed to hear this nonsense, and on the very day I was going to teach you how to prepare Roaring Fizzies, Luminessential Tablets, Diaphanoids and Morpho Beans."

He couldn't have hoped for a more rewarding reaction. The children jerked up their heads, emitted a sharp gasp and looked at the portrait in utter incredulity. But Snape didn't seem to notice; he just shrugged and lowered his voice in another disconcerting declaration. "After all, Halloween will be here in less than a week, and such tricks are always useful on such occasions."

He cast a quick glance at the class. The children were still staring agape, eyes popping. The contrast between the tone of their teacher and the meaning of his words had completely dumbfounded them, leaving them speechless. Snape watched the astonished little faces and concluded with calculated indifference, "However, it seems that I was wrong. You prefer theory to practice. Very well then, open your books at page 25."

A complete silence was the only answer to that order until finally James reacted.

"But... but we want to make them, Professor!" he pleaded, and the class joined eagerly, voices begging and intersecting in rising confusion. "Yes, please, we want to try! Please! Please!"

Snape frowned, concealing his inner satisfaction. It had been so easy! Suddenly, an unknown, beautiful feeling pervaded his heart, and he shivered in emotion, savouring that unexpected sensation of joy.

"Be quiet!" he then roared, and the children instantly stiffened in panic, all except Jennifer Avery, who was studying the portrait with calculating eyes, and James Potter, who had crossed his arms and raised his chin in his habitual I-fear-nothing expression. The wizard prepared for the second part of his speech.

"I'm glad you have so unexpectedly recovered your courage," Snape declared coldly. In spite of the tone, it was a promising statement, and the students held their breath in expectation. The portrait shot an ironic glance at Arthur Macmillan, who had joined his hands in prayer.

"I see you are determined," Snape affirmed sarcastically. "Very well. I'll give you a chance."

It took him several moments to restore calm.

*************

"The making of these Halloween candies can produce a number of bizarre and most unwelcome effects if not handled with due precaution," Snape warned, pacing in his frame, with his arms folded behind his back, while the children listened anxiously.

"To avoid unpleasant surprises," he continued after a long, distressing pause, "I will ask the help of very special assistants."

The wizard stopped and turned to point his finger at the impressive iron giants standing at the corners of the room.

"We will use the suits of armour to perform the most hazardous steps of these concoctions."

The children widened their eyes at that thrilling new prospect; unexpectedly, what was supposed to be a most boring lesson had become an Easter egg full of fantastic surprises. Applause started spontaneously, and many students turned to consider the knights with jubilant smiles.

Enjoying the growing excitement, Snape hardened his tone to underline the importance of his words.

"I want to make it very clear that this is not a game. Four selected students, one from each House, will be appointed to supervise your efforts. These supervisors will therefore have a great responsibility. The mixtures you are going to prepare are normally assigned to much more skilled potioneers than second year apprentices, so let's hope you won't spoil my expectations with reckless behaviour."

The children cheered, ready to promise everything. The boys' eyes were shining in enthusiasm, but the girls were also exchanging excited glances. Snape raised a hand to re-establish silence.

"Now, about the nominations. For this specific experiment, I will appoint Miss Avery for Slytherin, Miss Montgomery for Hufflepuff, Mr. Howe for Ravenclaw, and...Mr. Potter for Gryffindor."

*************

The small group of the newly elected supervisors gathered under the frame. Snape's eyes seemed to dig inside James, whose face was unusually serious.

"Mr. Potter," the wizard said quietly, "I hope we can trust you after the way you... excelled yourself last time."

Then Snape turned to Jennifer. "And I hope Miss Avery is not going to disappoint me again."

The girl blushed and lowered her head. Snape also attentively watched the other two children, who returned his gaze with meek smiles. Jasmine Montgomery, a slightly overweight little girl, was evidently pleased for the honour, but at the same time, she looked very tense. On the other hand, Jordan Howe, a tall red-haired bespectacled boy, was sparkling with enthusiasm.

"The first step will be linking a knight with you," Snape explained to the supervisors. "You must select one of them by calling its name to create a magical connection. Now listen carefully."

"Sir Tristram!" the wizard called, and with an impressive creak, one of the iron creatures came to life and raised a gloved hand in greeting.

"Sir Dunstan!" Snape called again, and a second giant bowed in response; it was the knight who had "quarrelled" with James Potter, and Snape cast a quick glance at his student. The boy had evidently recognised his antagonist, and a strange, thoughtful expression suffused his face.

"Sir Beltram! Sir Rowan!" One after the other, the two remaining knights answered their call while the class watched in awe. Then the portrait turned to the supervisors again.

"To avoid preferences, we will proceed in alphabetical order. Potter!" Snape ordered. "You will be the first."

"S-sorry, sir?" the boy asked in surprise. Wasn't Avery the first name on the register?

"Did you leave your brain on your desk, Potter? Every House will be assigned a suit of armour. We have four Houses here, so let's begin with Gryffindor; then, following in alphabetical order as I said before, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin. Now! Would you please make your choice, or should I decide for you?"

James studied the four imposing knights. From the furrowing of his brows, Snape could easily perceive the thoughts that were whirling in his mind. The boy had been humiliated in that same classroom by one of those iron creatures, and his pride was still hurt. But knowing James' reactions quite well by now, the wizard was sure that there was only one possible choice. And it was in order to grant that choice that he had imposed the alphabetical order and favoured the Gryffindors once more. Now, had he assumed correctly?

"Sir Dunstan for Gryffindor!" James called, and Snape smiled inwardly. Yes, he had guessed right again. Nobody else should command the knight who had dared challenge a Potter! The red and golden colours of Gryffindor wrapped the knight's armour, which blazed fiercely, while a roaring lion appeared on its shield.

"Gryffindoooor!" The loud, metallic voice of the giant exulted. Then it raised its fist and hit its chest with a resounding clash. The Gryffindors burst into applause, eyes shining in joy.

It was Hufflepuff's turn now, so Jasmine Montgomery stepped out and, imitating her classmate, called with a voice wavering in emotion, "Sir Beltram for Hufflepuff!"

"Hu-ffle-puff!" A second giant bowed gallantly and was immediately covered by the black and yellow colours of the House. Another round of applause started while Jasmine smiled proudly.

Sir Rowan was Ravenclaw's choice, and finally, with a challenging look, Jennifer Avery called, "Sir Tristram for Slytherin!"

With an expectant gaze, the four students turned to look at Snape for instructions. With his usual cold smile, the wizard sent four different parchments through the fax. The second years weren't as familiar as the first years with that means of communication, so the supervisors took their rolls with a slightly perplexed air.

But their perplexity increased even more when they read the instructions. It was Jennifer Avery who dared ask for explanation.

"Please, Professor... There are no names on these potions. How can we know what we are preparing?"

She gulped while Snape curled his lips in a cruel smile.

"This is a final little pleasure reserved to me, Miss Avery. As soon as you have completed your work, we will test the results on the supervisors. And then...and only then...will you know what you have produced."

The children glanced at each other, a sudden look of horror on Jasmine's face. But then Jennifer and James went straight to their housemates, and Jordan immediately followed their example. So, with a tremulous sigh, the little girl also moved to her companions.

*************

A few minutes later, a laboratory had been set up, and Snape watched the different methods at work.

James had gathered his companions, and they were now talking animatedly, bent over a desk, studying the instructions with heads lowered in concentration. The gigantic Sir Dunstan had joined them and inclined his helm to listen, and the children were looking at it with friendly easiness.

Jennifer was whispering her instructions and clearly deciding the best moves. Her companions were listening with desperate intensity, and their suit of armour also seemed subjugated by the girl's personality.

The Hufflepuffs were talking in low voices, some of them raking their hair or biting their lips, while shooting cautious glances at the knight towering near them.

The Ravenclaws had been the quickest; they had discussed the steps, divided the parchment into strips and were now assigning tasks. Even their knight seemed to be thoroughly impressed by such meticulous efficiency.

Ending their session, the Gryffindors high-fived each other, then hit Sir Dunstan's fist with their own, as in a propitiatory rite.

The knight began the work it had evidently been entrusted with. With its huge arms, it collected its new mates' cauldrons and disposed them, one near the other, in a circle. The children hurried to light the fire. At the same time, the Ravenclaws and the Slytherins were opening the cupboards, looking for ingredients. Still examining the instructions, the Hufflepuffs raised their heads in panic at that activity, and Snape felt a wave of compassion.

"This is not a race," he consoled the children. "Be careful, and remember: speed may ruin your work."

The Hufflepuffs smiled in relief, though Snape scowled at them immediately after, as if regretting his kindness.

Half an hour later, the room was full of vapour, and disparate smells and fumes were rising, mixing with the excited comments of the children. Every group was trying to guess what they were preparing, and different hypotheses burst out as soon as any of the students could detect a change in the mixtures.

The knights were hard workers. They lifted cauldrons, raised heavy weights and, above all, took all the risky operations in their hands.

The Ravenclaws applauded in joy when Sir Rowan opened a jar of viscid jellyfish and dropped them, one by one, in the boiling liquid.

Sir Tristram helped his Slytherins by inserting his arm directly into the hot mixture and recovering the catalyst.

The Hufflepuffs looked in reverent admiration when Sir Beltram deftly filled a gigantic cauldron with the contents of two other smaller ones that needed to be mixed together.

The fun was immense, and work was going on quickly and smoothly, so Snape leant back on his chair and closed his eyes, enjoying the merry confusion. Slowly, that soothing, blissful, powerful feeling he had previously experienced came back again in overwhelming waves, and the wizard relaxed, letting his thoughts free to wander.

Charming the suits of armour had been tough work, the portrait lazily considered, opening his eyes again to check James Potter and Sir Dunstan, who were working side by side. First, it had required calling Professor Finlay, Flitwick's substitute for Charms, and asking him the favour of his magical cooperation. The older wizard had no particular affection for Snape, so the work of convincing him had taken time and diplomacy, a subtle art that Snape had been obliged to brush up on after so many years of neglect.

Choosing the right enchantments had taken even more time, and Snape had regretted over and over that his painted form had made it impossible for his spells to reach the real world. For a moment, he had felt overwhelmed by a burning frustration and was even tempted to abandon the project. It had taken all his courage to go on, all the ferocious determination in his heart....

Finally, Finlay's curiosity had been greatly excited; the older wizard had begun to ask innumerable questions about the intended use of the knights, and Snape had felt positively irritated at his colleague's evident scepticism. The portrait had been able to reassure Finlay only by promising him to ask the Headmistress' permission for that experiment, a request that Snape had obviously and conveniently "forgotten".

The sound of voices rising in animation awakened the portrait from his trance. Ah! Work was coming to a conclusion, and Snape felt his heartbeats speed up in anticipation, as well as his students'.

Tired, excited, curious; with dirty hands and bright eyes, the children stepped back while the knights proceeded to the last operation: collecting the material created in the big bellies of the cauldrons.

In spite of his warnings, Snape knew perfectly well that there was no difficulty in preparing the magical candies. It was mostly an exercise in gastronomy, and the real risks were in the high temperatures and in the handling of such large quantities of ingredients, all issues that had been perfectly managed by the knights.

So, the portrait allowed himself to smile benevolently at the students, who were triumphantly displaying their results on the large platters appropriately prepared. Then he taught them a special spell, and after a few attempts, the four vividly coloured masses were divided into many little pills.

The children held their breaths in expectation. It was the moment of the final test.

*************

"Let's reverse the order for the tasting," Snape proposed with a diabolical smile, knowing what each group had prepared and savouring the result in advance.

Obeying that unexpected decision, Jennifer became the first one to taste the production, and suddenly, she was a bit worried. However, she couldn't refuse, and a shiver shook her forcefully when she swallowed a tablet. But a few moments later, a beautiful fluorescent glow surrounded her body, and the Slytherins applauded enthusiastically.

"Luminessential Tablets," announced Snape, nodding at their joy. "Excellent job, Miss Avery. Ten points to Slytherin for perfect coordination."

Jennifer relaxed, her habitually cold smile once more on her lips.

The Ravenclaws were on tenterhooks, yet affected a superior nonchalance while Jordan put a pill in his mouth. The boy smiled hesitantly; then he watched his hands and emitted a cry of horror, immediately followed by an exclamation of delight. His fingers had become deformed like the branches of an old tree, and when he blinked, his features changed their shape, making him look like a gargoyle.

"Morpho Beans," declared Snape, and the Ravenclaws looked pleased, though a little bit terrified. But their uncertain expressions turned instantly into relieved grins as soon as Snape commented casually, "The effect lasts only fifteen minutes with that dose, Mr. Howe. Excellent! Ten points to Ravenclaw!"

The Hufflepuffs were extremely nervous. Jasmine gulped her tablet with a look of fear in her eyes. In a few seconds, her skin took on a more transparent shade, and her skull and bones became detectable, though in a confused way, glowing in spectral pallor.

"Diaphanoids," Snape commented and considered the slightly overweight little girl with an ironic expression. "Really impressive, Miss Montgomery. Though not exactly a diet I would suggest."

Hufflepuff too was rewarded with ten points like the other Houses, and Jasmine smiled, reassured and proud, while the other students stared enviously at her skeletal look. It was now Gryffindor's turn, but surprises were obviously ended.

"I presume you have understood by now what you have prepared, Potter," Snape confirmed. "Roaring Fizzies. Let's test them."

The boy was a bit frustrated, but he took his pill and swallowed it eagerly. No visible change occurred, and James looked at his teacher in uncertainty.

"How do you feel, Potter?" Snape asked with a mischievous smile. The boy opened his mouth, but a resounding roar was the only answer he could manage, and many of the students began to laugh. The situation looked funny rather than scary as it was supposed to be. The Gryffindors immediately replied with exaggerated applause, watching their amused schoolmates with a threatening glare.

"Very good, Potter," Snape declared silkily. "Though I don't find a great difference from the way you usually speak."

The Slytherins snickered, and the wizard concluded, waving his hand in condescension, "Ten points to Gryffindor."

A desperate look in his eyes, James tried to say something, but he could only struggle uselessly with his throat, and Snape smiled again.

"Oh, I'm sorry, Potter. I regret to inform you that the effect lasts for an hour, more or less. You will have to wait before insulting me. But look at the good side: you can say whatever you want now. Nobody will understand you."

Then, preventing any other reaction, Snape raised a hand imperiously.

"We will bottle the candies you have prepared, and every House will receive a ration for Halloween. Now, ladies and gentlemen, time to clean up the mess," he ordered with a sharp tone. Laughter ceased abruptly while the children looked in alarm at the confusion in the room. Heads down and lips tightened, the students began their work.

*************

All in all, with the help of the suits of armour, cleaning the room had been quicker than expected. Soon the children were ready to leave, talking in excited whispers while glancing avidly at the jars of candies.

But his new ability was evidently troubling James, so when his classmates went out, he slipped back in the classroom, going straight under the frame. There he crossed his arms and watched Snape with a defiant glare.

"Yes?" Snape asked with cold courtesy, an inner hilarity rising in his chest.

The boy gesticulated uselessly, then tried to speak again. But only animal sounds came out from his throat, so after a few tries, he stopped in frustration.

"I know what you mean, Potter," Snape replied with a meaningful expression. "I may be mental, but I'm not stupid."

The boy froze at those words and looked at his professor with a wounded expression. Then his head dropped in defeat, his shoulders slumped, and resignedly, he turned to leave.

"You give up too easily, Potter!" Snape stopped him, a smile oddly sounding in his tone. "Who better than you should appreciate a joke?"

Baffled, James raised his head again. With a smooth movement, the portrait waved his wand and exclaimed, "Finite Incantatem!"

Then Snape crossed his arms, asking quietly, "Feeling better, now?"

"Well, I..." The boy seemed surprised to hear the sound of his voice again. For a moment, he struggled with himself; then he concluded grudgingly, "Thank you, sir."

"You don't need to thank me," Snape replied, lacing his fingers and looking at the ceiling with exaggerated attention. "And you can tell your mates that this is an easy way to interrupt the effect of the candies."

Then the portrait inclined his head to watch James and declared mischievously, savouring the reaction he was going to raise, "But I am perplexed, Potter. I thought that your actual language barrier could be an excellent excuse to avoid being examined in the next hour. After all, what better justification? Your nasty Potions professor played a trick on you, and you have plenty of witnesses to prove it."

A pause. A stunned look in his eyes, the boy considered the man in the frame, and...amazingly!...the man in the frame curled his lips in an amused smile, concluding suavely, "But perhaps I have misjudged you."

James finally brightened in incredulous understanding. With a cautious move, he grabbed two pills and hesitantly showed them to the portrait. Snape interpreted the unspoken question: two hours, which was exactly the time needed to the end of the morning lessons.

A bizarre elation once more flooded his chest. The man nodded at the boy, and after a moment of indecision, the boy swallowed the tablets. Something inconceivable had just happened, but Snape didn't seem to mind it at all. He only put a long, pale finger on his lips, clearly inviting the boy to keep the secret. Still incredulous, James nodded his agreement. Then, bowing his head in a silent greeting, he turned to leave, just in time to see a frowning Minerva McGonagall open the door.

"Good morning, Potter," she said curtly, eyes pointed at the portrait. Instinctively, the boy answered. A powerful roar echoed in the room, and the old witch froze, putting a hand on her heart.

"My... my goodness!" she exhaled. "What's the matter with you and the other little monsters I have just found walking in the corridors? Severus!" she exclaimed. At that tone, announcing a storm, James prudently disappeared.

"Minerva." The amused expression on Snape's face had changed into one of confusion. That childish look was so uncharacteristic of him that Minerva couldn't help a smile.

"So!" she said, her stern timbre softening in the special warmth she reserved for him. "It seems that your lessons are becoming really popular in this school, Severus. I have just met a group of very excited students going to their classes and telling the world how fantastic Potions can be."

Her eyes softened even more. "I'm very proud of you."

"Minerva..." Snape hesitated while he looked at the old witch. The headmistress looked extremely frail in the merciless light of the day. Her face was wrinkled and tired, her eyes strangely reddened. Instantly, Snape felt worried and remorseful again.

"I am very sorry for last night."

"Let's forget about it, Severus. It was my fault. I have been selfish. I would have liked to..." Suddenly, Minerva seemed to fumble for words without finding them. Her smile became painful to see.

"You must be patient with me," she concluded, lowering her head and looking even more vulnerable. "Sometimes old people lose their discernment, but eventually, life puts them in their place again."

"Minerva," Snape called for the third time, and his tone was now full of concern. "What is happening? Why are you so upset?"

The old witch bit her lips in evident anguish. "Nothing. Really, nothing. As I was telling you, life takes charge of putting things in order again."

She watched him, and a myriad little sparks lit in her eyes.

"Lucius Malfoy is dying." Her voice wavered dangerously. "It seems that his visit at Hogwarts has exacted a dreadful toll from a body that was already worn out. Yesterday, his family requested Scorpius to come home, as Lucius wanted to tell him goodbye. They have taken every possible precaution to physically shield the child. But psychologically, he came back completely devastated. The link between grandfather and grandson was evidently stronger than they supposed."

Tears began to slowly flow down her cheeks. "I had never imagined I would cry for Lucius. After all, he was a follower of the Dark."

Her lips began to tremble uncontrollably. "But... but whatever he was, whatever he has done, he has paid and paid abundantly. And now, his wife, alone again... Narcissa... Scorpius, poor child."

Her words became incoherent, and finally, Minerva ceded to emotion. Gasping sobs shook her body violently while Snape looked at her in helpless, desolate pity.

*************

It was night, and the room was glowing, reflecting the silvery moonlight slanting through the great windows. Lost in melancholy reflections, Severus Snape stared at the walls with unseeing eyes, meditating on the events.

Lucius Malfoy's unpredictable tragedy...just in the moment he had rejoined his family...had stirred innumerable emotions in Snape's heart. But some of them were still beyond his understanding.

Lucius had been a friend. With him, Snape had shared a big part of his previous existence. But what were the real feelings the portrait felt for that peculiar friendship, now that he was living in a parallel universe? Did the word "friend" still have a meaning in a world of canvas and paint?

In a few days, perhaps in a few hours, Lucius would face the most transcending journey a human being could undertake, an experience that Snape had already left behind and of which he had only obscure memories: a black tunnel from which he had awakened as a portrait while an immense desperation had tightened his fibres, making his heart stiffen in denial.

And from there, a life of eternal contemplation had opened to him, his features and body fixed by paint in unalterable stillness.

But wasn't this condition better...oh! so much better...than the state of continual uncertainty that was torturing the living beings? Hadn't he reached a blessed quietude that was shielding him from the miserable, petty anguishes of a corporeal existence?

Again, his thoughts focused on Minerva. She had sobbed so desperately for the man who had been one of her most detested foes. And yet, Snape had had no means to soothe her grief, no arms to hold her tightly, no words to offer and calm the fears that he had perceived tormenting her spirit.

So, she had cried for Malfoy, but perhaps she had cried also for herself, for a life that was flowing so smoothly, yet so vacuously, linked to a chain of repetitive duties that kept her hands busy but her mind empty.

Wasn't Minerva even too similar to Severus? Oh, how right she had been in speaking of prisons! And how much more fearsome was the cage that trapped her, whose bars were going to open only to grant access to that dreadful passage!

So, Snape reflected, why was he desperately longing for such existence? Why?

The answer sprang out immediately from the depth of his soul, coming from the memories of the days in which he was alive. Because life, though filled with pain and anguish and sorrow, was the most wonderful manifestation of gifts and chances, the most splendid opportunity to love and to be loved.

Had he only been able to waste the opportunities he had been offered in his previous life? Was that the reason why he felt so powerfully attracted by the real world? Was he still searching for something that could fill that unbearable prickling void in his soul? Was there still something he must accomplish?

Or was the answer already laid before him, and he hadn't seen it?

For a very quick moment, Snape saw again young James Potter and his comically disconcerted expression when he had been offered...and by his most hated teacher!...the chance of escaping his lessons.

For a very quick moment, that powerful breath of life he had experienced in the morning came back to dilate his heart in an incredibly joyful sensation.

And it was right in that moment that Snape realised it, and the thought made him shiver in wonder and emotion: for the very first time, one of his spells had definitely broken the invisible barriers of his frame, reaching the real world.