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Vera Molly was still crying in the morning. The Weasley matriarch and patriarch had spent the whole night speaking in tired whispers, tears falling copiously. It was so hard to believe that they were going to lose another son. Her womb had been so full, so giving and now, greedy hands took her babies from her in every direction. Fred and George to the grave and Percy following. Ron had become a closed door to the both of them, Bill and Charlie turned to each other...even Ginny had grown restless and strange. "How can we lose him? He's only just come home." Molly sniffed into a handkerchief. "I don't know love, I don't know." Arthur held his wife in the crook of one arm, her tired head on his shoulder. So many times they had sat on their old couch and held each other like this to try and put the pieces of their lives back together. "It is not for certain anyway. There must still be others to consult." "You heard him! Six months of searching and nothing." She sniffed again. "It's our fault. If we'd only accepted him for who he was..." "Percy was never like the other children." Arthur reminded her gently. "He had different needs...I often thought that he took after your Father more then any of the other children." "But if only..." "No, dear. Don't take this on yourself. There is only one person truly to blame and we've taken decades of our lives to get rid of him. If Percy is truly going.... then we can only do our best to make sure his last days are comfortable and filled with love." "I suppose you're right...but it's so hard." "I know, love. I know." They sat there until the sun came up and Ginny wandered downstairs looking for breakfast. Working in the potions lab had softened his muscles considerably and Ron was suitably chagrined as his usual fifty morning sit ups left him wheezing and sweat drenched. A part of the peace process seemed to be letting ones' physique go to pieces. In a way, he was glad to see the last of his over defined muscles. He hadn't gotten them for pleasure and they brought back poor memories. "Well then, Master Weasley." He mumbled to himself as he turned to do pushups. "Perhaps it's time to rethink the whole program." Time to rethink his life was more like. With a snort of disgust at his own half-hearted attempts at reworking things, he headed into the shower, dressed and swiped a few pieces of toast from Draco's copious pile. There was work to be done and thoughts to not think. Snape was already in the lab, working on basic supplies for the Infirmary, which would be necessary when the students returned. A stack of books, left marked and opened from the weeks before laid waiting for him on the desk that had appeared several days ago for his use. Naturally, Snape would never take credit for the sudden appearance of the object, but that was his way. "Good morning." He said pleasantly. Snape returned with curt nod as he rapidly skived pollywags. They worked in silence for the better part of an hour, Snape occasionally grunting or snorting in agitation. Ron had listened to several knowledgable authors read their texts to him while he took notes via a commanded Dicto-quill. Finally, whatever Snape was working on had come to a finishing point and he rounded on Ron, his calm pool of emotions rippling into half-hearted fury and confusion. "What did Percival say to you last night? I heard him yelling through the door." "It's not mine to say..." "If I am to accept that that uptight little toad is going to take my son from me, I have a right to know what he's doing yelling in my apartments." The stare brooked no nonsense and Ron found himself telling all. "Apparently in the middle of the last battle, Voldemort figured out that Percy was a spy and he laid a hex on him. Because he didn't have the Dark Mark, it hasn't killed him immediately, but there's no cure and he's probably going to die within a few months. The calm of his voice was a cultivated skill, but it kept wild emotions at bay. There was a sudden rattle from the floo in the living room and before Snape could respond beyond a wave of shock, Percy was there, covered in dust and feeling highly aggravated. "That is the last time I take your advice!" He leaned heavily against the wall. "I told Mom and Dad last night and they fussed over me all morning. I went to St. Mungo's to escape, but they'd told the ward matron that I've got a fatal disease and now they won't let me do my shift." "It is the least you deserve." Snape growled. From the flare of surprise, it was obvious Percy hadn't noticed that man standing there. "For being so senseless." "Whatever do you mean..." "Take off your shirt." "What?!" "You heard me. If you want to have my son then you will take off your shirt and let me see the damage." "Ron!" "I didn't tell him!" He raised his hands in protest. "Well, about the death thing yes, but not about Draco. That he eavesdropped on all of his own." "I do not eavesdrop. I accidentally overhear." Snape growled. "Now, off with it." Percy was even less resistant to a Snape command then Ron. The neatly pressed button down was quickly draped over a chair. Over his heart was the hex sign, it resembled the Dark Mark, but had the additions of being an infected reddish color and consisting of two snakes knotting themselves together within the skull. "No one's been able to undo it." He explained. "Not curse breakers, not Charms masters, not even ancient Chinese pain artisans recognized it." "They wouldn't." Was the gruff reply. "It's very rare and native to England." "How do you know?" "Because I helped create it almost a quarter of a centaury ago." Stained fingertips traced the reddened skin. "It was supposed to be a great work, an improvement over the Dark Mark. Lucius and I were working on it, but when we tested it...the subject with the Mark died almost immediately. The other...I didn't know about him until far too late...I found him wasting away in the dungeon. By the time I'd figured out how to reverse it, he died in my arms." Ron knew that if he could see, Snape's expression wouldn't have changed one iota, but the pain he could 'see' was so intense, he nearly choked out of sympathy. "Reverse.... you know how to reverse it." "Naturally. No wizard worth his salt would ever create something he couldn't destroy. What would be the point to a poison that had no antidote?" "I...you just want to poison the person. Who needs an antidote?" "Does no one listen to my lectures?" The older man sighed. "I might as well talk to the cauldrons." "Without an antidote, you can not truly understand the workings of the poison. One might as well attempt a Charm without the words or plant a seed without knowing its origin." Ron intoned. "I believe that's exact." "You were never that attentive in my class..." "I was. You just never noticed. And I was paired with Neville a whole lot of the time." He grinned. "And every time you said Charms my ears perked up and that was a rare enough event." "Hello! Can we get back to the point? You know how to reverse this. I would be deeply in your debt if you..." "You owe me only one thing Weasley." The hiss was the most Slytherin noise Percy had ever heard. "Don't break his heart or I will break your soul." "Yes, sir." "Nix et Ominus Par." The mark wavered in and out, rippled and burned. A gust of foul green air puffed out from Percy's nostrils and mouth. "That was...anti-climatic." He took in a deep breath of clean air. "That feels amazing. Thank you." "Just keep up your end of the bargain. He's in the living room." He all but shoved the man through the door. "And after today, your visits are being supervised until I see some proof that things are going the way they should." Once his brother had closed the door behind him, Ron let out a relieved laugh. "You're just full of surprises, sir." "If you'd done as many terrible things as I have, then you would be full of useful twists and bends as well." "I think you're far too hard on yourself." "I don't believe that is any of your business." Snape returned swiftly. "The things I have done are unforgivable, but I long ago learned how to live without guilt of them." "I believe that you believe that." Ron said softly. "Thank you for giving Percy a chance." "It is as you said. If I had not, it wouldn't have done any of us any good. He's...not unacceptable. Don't you have something to do?" "Yes, sir." Ron turned back to his books, letting the smile curl on his lips. Percy stumbled into the living room. The lithe blond was curled up on the couch and the red head felt something surge through him at the mere sight of the younger man. Draco was curled up around a soft purple pillow, his pale skin stained with tears and knuckles white from his strong grip. Without thought, Percy moved to Draco's side, kneeling next to the couch. "Drake?" "I.... heard....are you really going to die?" The younger man snuffled. "No! No. Your father cured me." "Oh!" The sobs redoubled and Percy curved upwards to draw the other man off the couch and into his arms. "My heart, my sweetness, shhh, shhh...." He rocked him, rubbing his fingers in soothing circles over the back. By the time he was at the end of his tears, Draco was able to look the elder man in the eyes. "I don't want to be without you." The innocence that Percy had always worked so hard to concentrate on was overwhelmed by the open lusting look that Draco shot him in that moment. The open, needy hunger was not that of a child. "You won't." Hesitantly, he allowed himself to cup one sharp cheek in his hand. The skin was softer then he had imagined. Before he could move farther, pale lips were on his and long arms were around his shoulders. The kiss was soft and pleading. He opened himself to it, moving to settle the smaller man on his lap. There was a sharp sweet taste to Draco that had its origins in a syrup-laden breakfast. When they broke apart, foreheads pressed together. "I'm not a child." Draco said softly. "I know what I want." "Obviously." Percy chuckled. "And who am I to argue? Your father is going to lay down some ground rules..." "Yes and they'll be fairer then you think. Ron's been keeping him in check." "I think I have a lot to thank him for." Draco got a far away look in his eyes and a wicked smile curled on the ends of his lips. "I have a way we can both thank him, if the Headmaster is here we can start immediately...." By the time Snape and Ron re-entered the room, they were innocently snuggling on the couch. Dark eyes narrowed briefly and Draco shivered in Percy's arms. "It's all right." Snape soothed quickly. "This will merely take some getting used to." "Thank you, Papa." Impulsively, Draco untangled himself from Percy's embrace to wrap his arms around his father. Snape stiffened momentarily, before returning the embrace. The rough kiss he dropped in his son's hair was obviously hard for him. Draco pulled away to return to the couch. "Well then, are you up for another chess lesson after lunch?" Ron asked, attempting to break the sudden sad chill that hung in the air. "You will not beat me again." Snape warned. "Then you'd best not play him again." Was Percy's quick retort. "He's impossible." Ron chuckled and laughed harder when he sensed Snape's stubborn irritation rising. "We shall see about that." Came the mild reply, but Ron braced himself for a brutal assault. Snape blinked at the parchment in his hand. He had been expecting it naturally, but not nearly so soon. "Sir?" "The Headmaster would like to see you in his office. It seems he has a proposal for you." "Does it say what?" Silver lining snapped abruptly shut as he turned to face the potions master. "Shit. Still at eleven seconds." "Patience. And no, as always the Headmaster is irritatingly vague." "Walk me up then?" "I suppose." He glanced quickly around the room, evaluating the stages of various brews. Nothing that couldn't wait. "Very well." The school that had been deadly quiet for eight months was beginning to stir with life. House elves raced every which way, popping in and out at random intervals, getting dormitories and classrooms in order. Teachers, their assistants and various supporting staff also trickled in, healed and hardy. There had been more then a few replacements, but it did make for a fresh beginning. "Beeswax." Snape spoke tartly to the damaged guardian of the spiral staircase. They ascended slowly, Snape behind Ron in case the blinded man lost his footing. The musty warm smell ignited Ron's memory. Days of talking strategy and sipping strong teas laced with Pepper-Up when no one was looking. "Hello, Headmaster. " "Mr. Weasley, a pleasure as always. Please, take a seat. There's a chair only slightly to your left. Oh, Severus! Why don't you stay? Have some tea." A long-suffering sigh saw the potions master ensconced in the other chair. There was no resisting Albus Dumbledore. "May I ask what all this is about, Headmaster?" "Of course, of course. Lemon drop?" "No, thank you. We have a tremendous amount of work to do..." "Yes, my dear boy, I understand." The old man harrumphed a little. "It seems that we're in something of a bind. The Charms teacher we hired to replace Professor Flitwick recently decided that she'd rather move to the Continent for research. I was hoping that you would take the position instead." "That's ridiculous! I've no experience teaching! I didn't even go to Hogwarts when it was functioning school....." "You are independently educated." Snape said softly, surprising both Ron and the Headmaster. "Didn't you tell me yourself that it was you who created Charged weaponry?" "Yes, but..." "And most of the other charmed objects involved in battle, amounting to nearly twenty recent copy rights in your name within the Ministry." Dumbledore added. "Congratulations!" "But I never..." Ron shook with confusion and the beginnings of rage. "It seems your friend Mr. Potter has been busily at work." Snape observed. "I'll kill him." Ron fumed. "He knows I didn't want recognition for any of that! It was supposed to be listed as anonymous." "Well, now. That's a bit harsh." Dumbledore broke in. "I'm sure the Minister was only trying to give you the credit you so justly deserved." "Right. It has absolutely nothing to do with my position of the war directly under him. I love Harry like another brother, but I also know what a ratfink he can be. All this recognition will reflect very nicely onto him." The red head shivered with barely suppressed rage. "Yes, well.... I'm sure that is something the two of you can take up at some other time. The school is a relatively quiet place in peace time." Was the gentle reminder. "I won't be able to see properly for another three months at least." "You may choose your own assistant to aide you until such a time when you can function alone. I have a list of recommendations." A calloused hand shuffled through lengthy red locks. "Fine. Where do I sign?" They haggled a little over beginning salary and such, but quickly reached an agreement. "Just one last thing...I'm afraid the teachers' quarters have suffered some sort of rot. Possibly a student prank gone wrong and then left unchecked. Would it inconvenience either of you if Professor Weasley continued to reside in the dungeons?" Ron, shocked by the use of his new title, shook his head mutely. "Seeing as we still haven't perfected the muscle stimulant, I had no plans of letting him off on his own." "He is an adult, Severus. He's a right to live where he wants." "He's right." Ron put in abruptly. "It'd be silly of me to change quarters. I'd have to relearn a whole new area. I have things well in hand in the dungeon." "Wonderful!" The Headmaster clapped his hands, sending a flurry of papers across his desk. "I have a copy of the old approved syllabus somewhere.... ah! Here. I'll expect your lesson plans within a week. Good day." As soon as they were safely away, Ron whirled on Snape. "Can you floo me to the Ministry? I have a few choice words for the Minister." Snape's eyes sparkled. Who said Slytherins couldn't appreciate a good bit of mischief? "My pleasure." They landed, fairly gracefully considering, into the lobby of the Minister's grand office. A neatly dressed, precise secretary coughed discreetly. "Do you have an appointment?" "I have a standing invitation, Ms..." "Updike. I wasn't aware that the Minister had made such a promise to just anyone...." "Just anyone?" This time it was Snape who growled at her. "Don't you know to whom you are speaking? This man was the Minister's Lt. General. He served for six years as a battle leader and single handily created the weapon that ultimately won the war." The secretary looked suitably cowed in the presence of Snape's awesome ability to discipline, but quickly rallied as something occurred to her. "Minister Potter is in a meeting!" "Oh for...how far away is she?" Ron whispered to Snape. "Three feet forward, slightly to the left." "Stupefy." Her eyes glazed over and she slumped forward at her desk. "That was a little overdone." "I'm too pissed for finesse." The doors banged open with a satisfying crash, revealing Harry scribbling on a pile of papers and talking to a thin, nervous looking man. "Ron! Professor! Hello...could you just wait in the lobby for a moment, I was just finishing up with Mr. Crill... "Minister." Ron stood back appreciating Snape's velvet threatening tones. "I believe that your best friend and comrade in arms has something to speak to you about. I would suggest that you say goodbye to Mr. Crill." "Perhaps I'd better go." The pale man shuffled through some papers and scuttled out the door, deliberately walking wide around the terrifying twosome. "Well, there goes most of my hopes for making amends with the Brazilian...." "Forgive me if I don't care. I had an interesting talk with Dumbledore this morning, Harry." He let only the tiniest curl of anger pollute his tone. "It seems that someone has been putting my name on copyrights." "It's your work, Ron!" "And I gave it to the wizarding world, no strings attached!" He heaved in a breath. "How could you do this to me! After I begged you not to..." "You should get credit for everything you did! It's not fair to just let people assume.." "I don't give a damn what people assume, Harry. Let them think I was a loafer, a good for nothing, take the credit for yourself, just leave me the hell out of it from now on!" "But..." "No. No buts. This is a betrayal of our friendship! What made you possibly think that this wouldn't be a bad idea?" "Because...they think I did it, Ron. They think I won this war. The press, most of the wizarding world and even my parents are starting to believe it. But you and me both know that I had almost nothing to do with it. You won this war..." "Don't you fucking dare put that on me. Do not give me their deaths, Harry. I've taken enough of them. Don't wipe your bloody hands off on me. I know what I did, I know the extent of my guilt. I created weapons designed for efficient death and I sat in on meetings and made suggestions that doubled the effect of an attack. I know what I am responsible for. It was you who killed Voldemort and it was you who led troops into bloody victory. You'll just have to learn to live with it the same as I did." He could feel his face full of blood, pulsing angry, unflattering red, but couldn't care less. Harry's own waves of remorse, frustration and anger only fed his fire. "I didn't mean...." "That's the problem with you Harry. You never mean to do anything, but you manage all the same." Ron spat. "I think enough has been said." Snape drawled softly, resting a hand on Ron's shoulder. He felt instantly calmed as he always had when his father had warned him of his temper. "Shall we return? You have much to prepare for." "Mmm....Harry, please leave me alone for now. I'll see you at Hermione's wedding next weekend." He grinned pleasantly. "I think by then I might be able to actually listen to anything you've managed to come up with." "Good day, Minister." Snape smirked. "Wait! What did you do to my secretary?!" "Ms. Updike is having a nap. Good day, Harry." They swept out and Ron threw a companionable arm around Snape's shoulder as they stepped into the generous fireplace. When they landed safely in the dungeon, Ron dissolved into heaving giggles. Snape smiled indulgently and broke out into low rusty chuckles as Draco burst into the room, a curious look on his face and a line of soot across his cheek. "How now bratling, what have you done to yourself?" "Found the recipe you were tinkering with for the new stimulant." He snuffled out more dust from his nose. "There were some interesting components that related to the cure for nerve degeneration I was working on." Draco on potions was not Draco on any other subject. Or maybe it was Percy's acceptance of him, but Ron had never heard Draco speak with such clarity. "And what exploded?" "Nothing! It gave off a greasy smoke. Kind of oily. Was going to get rid of it when you two came in." He itched his nose, leaving another streak. "Might be able to get a working potion in a few hours." "Working as in a functioning stimulant?" The messy blond nodded. "You're a wonder Draco Snape." Ron stumbled to the blonde's side and took him in a tight hug. The blond quickly squirmed free. "Not sure it will work yet. Don't get too excited." "All right, all right. I'm going to get something to eat and work on my lesson plans like a good teacher drone." He said to no one in particular and walked out to do just that. Snape watched him leave, a small sly smile still lingering on the edges of his lips. "Draco...." "Got to go finish..." "Draco. Did you fire talk Dumbledore last night?" "No...." The glare quickly undid him. "Percy did." "You corrupted a Weasley. Quite the feat. I must admit, I'm unclear on your objectives." Draco stared at him, mouth slightly open, before he shifted to a much craftier look. "Then I won't tell you. You'll figure it out well enough on your own." The potion was a stunningly uninteresting gray. Ron sat hard on his borrowed bed, readying himself for another failure. Another sink into depression and another flush of anxious doom. The closeness of the room grew until there was nothing left for it, but to swallow it down. There was a bitter after taste and for a long settling moment nothing happened at all. The light came harshly, despite the purposeful dimming spells. It always did in those brief flashes he'd had the last few weeks. He just breathed in deeply as the ten-second mark passed and then the twenty. Objects came into focus, stonewalls and the soft hues of the bed covers all became alive and lovely in his eyes. Everything began to swarm into his mind and he ordered the lights up gently. Soon every blessed detail was painted in sharp relief. Momentous did not even begin to describe it. As soon as he stopped shaking, he went to find Draco, marveling at how very different the rooms seemed. The furniture he'd only known as comfortable was thread-barren. The rooms he knew to be warm were made of moist stone and the fireplace that always crackled with such warmth was surprisingly small. He paused at the doorway of the lab. And got his first real glimpse of Snape in three years. The man was bent over a glass cauldron, stirring slowly with his left hand while taking cramped precise notes with his right. Long, greasy strings of black hair hung over pale and lined skin, a beakish nose protruding beneath. He moved with intensity that Ron had long felt, but never witnessed in him. He was nothing beautiful, nothing fine, but Ron felt captured nonetheless. For that instant, he was completely caught and could have stared forever. Long fingers moved with a grace no one could duplicate, the delicacy of touch known only by the blind and the brilliant artisan. Ron never wanted the moment to end. If he could stand there and indulge his newly healed eyes for hours then he would. "Did it work?" Draco was behind him in that sudden fluid way of his, snapping Ron out of his private reality. Snape's head came up as well and for a strange timeless moment their eyes were locked. Something licked up between them, filling the air with delicious warmth. "Ron?" "I'd say it went perfectly." Ron managed to break away and grin at the younger man. "You did wonderfully." The blond shrugged, a smile tugging at the ends of his lips. "Your eyes are a lighter brown then Percy's." Ron knit his eyebrows and turned to a cauldron with standing water. "Minus Reflect." The water became a perfect mirror. It was wonderful to see his face again from the crazed red of his uneven hair to the suggestion of a weak chin and familiar muddy eyes. Everything seemed about the same, some lines a little lighter, a certain tense tightness of oncoming battles had eased around the eyes, but it was the face he'd grown up with and it was nice to see it again. "Strange. I remember them darker." "But your vision is the same?" "Still a little blurry from the light, but otherwise as accurate as it ever was." "Then it's probably nothing to worry about." Draco assured him. "Now, break everything down, step by step about the process. There's research to be done. " "I'm at your service." The rest of the day was spent being grilled by the blond on every aspect of the change, down to the taste left in his mouth to fineness of the color he could perceive sixteen seconds after consumption. The whole time his thoughts wandered and he answered automatically, his mind's eye on two steady black eyes and a flash of something deep and wanting. next part last part << |