It was a cool but crisp October morning. The sun shone from a brilliantly blue sky and golden brown leaves drifted and danced in the breeze outside Circe's window. She was having a leisurely morning reading Hemingway, sipping on a coffee Minerva had made for her and plugged into her Walkman. She adored sitting in their conservatory, curled up in one of the elephant armchairs on those rare mornings when she didn't have to be up for teaching. Despite the ever encroaching chill of autumn, the glass room was warm and cozy. A Moveable Feast was enrapturing. And No Doubt was turned up loud.
Nevertheless, she'd eventually have to move for her weekend chores. Mercifully, she hadn't been required for breakfast duty this weekend. It had been a long week of teaching and she wanted a break as much as her new students did. She was not disappointed with her classes; a relatively bright bunch who had a good grasp of runic to boot. She'd given them a reading list as long as her arm, which they weren't exactly happy about. But, as she'd been lucky enough to have small classes, she'd developed something of a rapport with them. Quite impressive considering she'd only been at Hogwarts for just over four weeks. She got all of her student gossip from Percy Weasley's class. He liked to show off to her how he'd been flexing his prefect privileges with the younger years. So she consequently knew which student was going out with who, who was out of their bed late at night and who was still getting packages delivered by their mum every day. She could only imagine how the students would be a buzz after Potter's exploits yesterday… She couldn't wait to pass that tidbit on.
Her work in the Potions department had also been a much smoother transition than she'd originally imagined. Something akin to a truce had settled between her and Severus since the evening in Dumbledore's office. She knew her future at the school depended on how well they worked together and she was grateful that he'd given her a chance and not merely dismissed her out of spite. And Dumbledore had been right, of course. It did come back to her almost immediately. The brewing, the steeping, the cutting, infusing, measuring… the subtleties of the art were never lost on her and Severus very rarely had to check her work now.
Although, watching Severus's teaching style was something she'd had to learn very quickly to bite her tongue over. He was, quite frankly, brutal. Using fear and embarrassment in his teaching method as substitutes for praise. The classes with the First Years were the hardest for her to assist him with. Poor Longbottom looked almost ready to wet himself; he appeared so frightened of Snape. Then there had been that first lesson with Potter… quizzing him on asphodel and bezoars and wormwood. Things that should be wildly above his level. What was the point of it? Just to humiliate the kids? Nevertheless, Circe did not dream of stepping in and undermining him in his own classroom. It was an unspoken rule of teaching. Still, it was plain to see the relief wash over the student's faces when it was Circe's turn on the timetable to teach and leave Snape with some planning and prep time.
Thoughts of the First Year classes made her sigh to herself and she reluctantly closed her book. There were things that needed checking before she saw them on Monday. She drained her coffee and rose to dress. She pulled out a casual outfit and finished it by donning her signature tartan coat, now back in its original shape. She tied her hair up in a half ponytail, pulling out a few strands of curls to frame her face and finished with a small splash of warm red lipstick.
Well, this is what the weekend's for isn't it? She thought.
Her backpack lay by the chair of her desk, now thoroughly worn-in with papers, books and her photographs. She grabbed it swiftly and strode out of her room.
She passed few faces as she walked down to the dungeons. Many students were still in bed enjoying a lie-in into the mid morning. When she herself was a student it was rare that she saw anything before midday on the weekend. She laughed at memories of being woken up with her roomates' slippers thrown at her face. Of course, now she was older it was different. She liked the mornings to go walking in the grounds or double check her lesson plans for the day. She liked being busy.
Circe descended into the dungeons and walked into Severus's classrooms. The space was quiet, thirty or so empty cauldrons perched on top of the desks with the stools tucked neatly beneath them. Circe always thought an empty classroom felt weird so she moved through the space as quickly as she could and went on to the preparation and storeroom. It was a space for staff only, lined from floor to ceiling with ingredients in neatly labelled jars and barrels. In here, they stored the ingredients that were too dangerous to be left out in the classroom. Many of the items were pickled or preserved in viscous green liquid which bathed the space in a strange swampy glow. Circe dropped her bag onto the floor and moved to the table at the far end of the room. There, just as she'd left it a few days ago, were several vials of a steeped orange substance. She picked up one experimentally and held it close to her face. Floating at the bottom of the vial was a fizzing pixie eye. She nodded, pleased with the results.
"You really shouldn't hold that so close to your eye…"
Circe started and almost dropped the glass tube. She spun around and there standing in the shadows was Severus.
"Jesus, Severus, you startled me…"
He grumbled something inaudible and moved into the greenish light. It gave his face a sickly lime tinge and Circe saw his face was already set into a reproachful scowl.
"Why is that?" She asked, deciding to humour him.
"It's steeped pixie venom. If any of that gets on to your skin it will start eating away at your flesh."
"Oh it's not that strong. It's for the First Years after all."
"Yes, well.. I personally wouldn't want to risk my eyesight in a careless moment."
Circe rolled her eyes. Of course Severus couldn't resist a little dig like that. For all her skill in his department, she was, and had earned the reputation over the years, of being a little bit clumsy. Not a clutz, not reckless, but she had smashed a few bottles here and there. Once she'd knocked over a cauldron and Severus had come barreling over to her station ready to eviscerate the student he'd presumed had done it; he had had to reluctantly swallow down his venom when he realised Circe was the one responsible.
"You're here early." Circe commented, picking up and examining a few other vials at a safer distance.
"No rest for the wicked." Severus replied flatly.
Circe laughed, although something about Severus's tone made her think he wasn't joking.
"Did the mugwort and lavender delivery arrive?" She asked, quickly pushing past the issue.
"This morning. I've been cataloguing it since seven."
"Seven?!" Circe asked incredulously.
"MmmHmm"
"Bloody hell, Severus, do you ever have a day off?"
"Not when there is work to be done. And there is always work to be done."
"You should have told me it was arriving today. I would have done it myself after I'd checked these." She held up the orange vials in demonstration. "You could have had the morning off at least."
Severus stopped what he was doing for the briefest of seconds. There was no way he was telling her he very rarely stopped working or took time off at all. Because, after all, who did he have to spend time with? When he stopped, his thoughts tended to stray to more unhappy times. A quiet mind was something he dreaded because it often led to memories slipping into the quietness. Still, something stirred in his chest at Circe's offer. No one had offered to help with his work before, even though they all knew he was always busy. Then again, he'd actively encouraged others to leave him alone with spitefulness and rudeness. He reaped what he'd sewn. But had he not tried to do that with Circe on that first day they'd met? And yet here she was, offering kindness despite it all. He was not quite sure how to respond to it.
Circe waited for a reply that never came. Perhaps I said something wrong, she thought to herself. She grasped around internally for something else to say.
"Oh! Did you hear about what happened in Rolanda's lesson yesterday?"
Severus groaned in response. "Is this more meaningless prattle you've picked up from the students?"
"Oh shush! You're not above a bit of gossip, just like me."
He groaned again and continued with his packaging and sorting. Circe took his silence as invitation enough to continue.
"So, apparently the Longbottom boy broke his wrist about two minutes into the lesson.."
"I'm sure that'll be a record of moronicity even for him."
"You have to stop picking on Longbottom, Severus. Anyway, shush! So Rolanda has to escort him to the hospital wing and leave the other kids on the pitch alone. That kid that you like was there, you know… the albino-looking one."
"Malfoy?"
"Yes, that's it. Well, he's provoking Potter and the other Gryffindors. I don't know about what exactly, but Potter and Malfoy go flying off on their brooms chasing each other."
Severus turned to face her, a quizzical eyebrow raised.
"I know!" She said, getting excited by her own story and Severus's apparent interest. "And well, they're throwing something about in the sky and Potter goes flying past Minerva's window at full speed."
"Dare I hope that Potter was given an expulsion and reprimanded with the loss of house points?"
"Pfft! This is Minerva we're talking about. No. Come on, what's been her brainchild for the past few years?"
"She didn't…"
"She absolutely did! He's on the Gryffindor Quidditch Team as the new Seeker."
Severus's stomach turned. Just like his father, he thought bitterly.
"Rotten apples never fall far from the tree." He hissed.
Circe turned and watched him at his work. He seemed unsettled and irritated now. More so than he should be about an upstart First Year getting luckily appointed to the Quidditch team.
"So you knew the Potters then?" She asked tentatively.
"I did." It was a curt response.
"You were in school with them?"
"Yes."
She paused for a second, wondering why the whole mood of the room had just shifted.
"They were in their last year when I started my First…" she began. "I didn't see them much but gosh… I remember them as if they were the King and Queen of Hogwarts." She laughed to herself, not noticing that Severus's knuckles were white around the shelf he held on to. "Lily was the kind of Head Girl we all looked up to. She looked so grown up and pretty to me when I was eleven. Especially as she had a boyfriend! And James was-"
"A loathsome little toad." Snape spat.
"What?" Circe asked, confused. "I didn't interact with him that much, but he was always-"
"Well I unfortunately did and he was a bully and a thug."
"Oh…" Circe felt at a loss for words. "Well I never saw anything like that going on when-"
"What? Is it different to the hero-worship claptrap you've heard about him since he had the good grace to die? Different to how you remember him from when you were eleven?! Passed him in the corridors twice, did you, and now you're his character witness?"
You don't even remember me from back then, do you? He thought sourly to himself.
His blood boiled and he fought to keep from shouting all sorts of vitriol at her. He raged silently to himself and turned his back on her, burying himself in his work again.
Circe was speechless. She'd touched a nerve but dared not ask why it still hurt. Colour rose in her cheeks as embarrassment flushed her face. She felt meek again. Prey to his predator once more. But this time instead of feeling angry at her inaction, she just felt a deep sadness. She put down the orange vial she had been holding and picked up her backpack from the floor. Wordlessly she moved past Severus with downcast eyes.
She sighed heavily as she reached the threshold of the storeroom. "What a shame, Severus..."
He turned his head to face her, but his anger subsided slightly as he saw he'd upset her once again.
"It was almost like we were getting along then."
His mouth hung open, but he made no reply. Instead turning back to his shelves. Circe turned and left.
-----
The rest of her day Circe planned to spend wandering the grounds around Hogwarts. She filled up a small flask of coffee from the Staff Room, now being on decidedly better terms with the brass menagerie than she had been on her first day. Yet she still kept her previously scalded hand in her pocket when the bronze bird whistled and spouted steam. Her brewed java sat at the bottom of her backpack, along with her book and a pair of gloves. She resolved to relentlessly march on with her plans for the rest of the day, but her run in with Severus was like a thorn in her mind.
She kicked at the brown and orange leaves on the floor, whipping them up around her. She didn't know exactly where she was walking to but if she consciously decided to wander aimlessly, she didn't remember doing it. Her head was still spinning with thoughts of Severus. How did someone become so bitter and vicious? It knawed away at her as she passed over the wooden bridge and continued out towards Hagrid's Hut. She would have told him off for speaking ill of the dead had she not seen the agonising and unfathomable sadness behind his eyes. It made her own soul ache just remembering his parting look.
She was astute enough to realise that something must have passed between him and the late James Potter. But the dead have a bad habit of being unavailable to ask for clarification. As eager as she was for gossip, it seemed that this was something she should naturally avoid asking about. Who would she ask anyway?
And why does it matter? She thought to herself. He's my colleague. You don't need to know. Just keep it professional.
But she knew within her heart of hearts that she would be unhappy with that resolution. She sat down amongst the standing stones and pulled out her book. She looked wistfully down at A Moveable Feast, dog eared and yellowed with age and love. It seemed that Circe spent most of her waking moments longing for something or somewhere she wasn't or didn't have. She almost enjoyed the feeling of the bittersweet nostalgia it conjured. Today it was Paris in the 1920's. Last month it was Hogwarts.
You are never happy with what you've got, she chided herself.
"The only thing that could spoil a day was people and if you could keep from making engagements, each day had no limits. People were always the limiters of happiness except for the very few that were as good as spring itself."
She laughed to herself at just how on-point Hemingway was...
She passed an hour or two lost in the pages of her book, until the air grew heavy around her with rain. She cast a thoughtful eye up to the sky, now stained with granite coloured clouds. She hastily tidied her things away as the sky began to rumble. The first fat spots of water were beginning to strike her head when the door to Hagrid's Hut in the valley below swung open.
"OI! GET IN 'ERE!" Hagrid called up to her, a pink apron tied around his thick waist.
Circe ran to the hut, careful not to slip down the rapidly wettening grassy bank. Hagrid left his door open and welcoming to her and the smell of fire smoke hit her in the face as she shook the water from her coat.
"Oh cheers, Hagrid. I don't think I'd have made it back to the castle before the downpour."
"Ahhh sit down. I'm just about t' ave a brew."
She slumped down into an empty armchair by the fire. Fang lumbered over to her and placed his massive head onto her lap. She gave him a hearty head rub and laughed as he panted happily back at her.
"'Aven't seen you since your first day. 'Ow 'ave ye been?"
"Oh fine… fine. I mean, it was a bit of a shock finding out that I didn't have the uptake that I wanted.."
"Ahh yeah I 'eard that you've been busy helpin' Professor Snape.." Hagrid said with a playful smirk. He handed a giant mug of tea to Circe. "Sugar?"
"No, thank you." she took it gratefully, letting it warm her hands. "Ugh, can I have a bit of a whinge, Hagrid?"
"Course." he replied, sinking into the armchair in front of her.
"Severus…"
"Let me guess… He's been a rude ol' git with the temper of a Horntail with a sore head."
"Good Lord, how does anyone stand it from him? The man's sixty percent sarcasm and forty percent Shakespearean villain. And the poor students… If he'd been teaching in a muggle school he would have had a disciplinary for inappropriate behaviour years ago."
Well, I don't know about all o' that." Hagrid sighed, "But aint it true what they say about the bullied becoming the bully."
Hagrid punctuated his wisdom with a sip of his tea. Circe thought for a moment, chewing over what the giant had said. She almost didn't have to ask her next question.
"By Harry's father?"
"And the others in that group. Sirius Black and James mostly."
Circe nodded her head slowly.
"Scone?"
"What?"
"Fruit scone? I made 'em this afternoon."
Hagrid pulled himself up out of his chair and took a tin off one of the shelves that lined his hut. He popped open the lid and offered it out to Circe. She took a scone gratefully but had to hide her grimace as she bit into it. It was rock hard…
"Still, it ain't fair to take it all out on kids is it? Aint their fault what happened to 'im."
"Indeed…" Circe replied, looking into the fire.
"I mean, look at poor 'arry. Those wicked Dursleys 'ave used and abused 'im ever since he was old enough to stand, and look at 'im. I don't there's a bad bone in his body."
"A bit foolhardy and reckless...but what Gryffindor isn't?"
Hagrid laughed and looked at Circe's face for a short while. She looked lost as her green eyes searched the dancing flames.
"Are you alright there?" he asked gently. "He's not been a brute to you, 'as he? If he 'as I could give 'im a right old thumpin-"
"No, no…" she lied, rationing it was probably in everyone's best interests that she didn't get Severus's head kicked in. The memory of his sad, lonely eyes tugged at her heartstrings once again. She tried to push the thought away, but once again she found herself totally encapsulated by thoughts of Severus. "He's just...difficult."
"Hagrid…! Hagrid!" A crooning voice came from outside in the gloom and wet. "I beseech you for succor!"
The woman's voice was banging on the door as Hagrid hurriedly rose to meet it. The wind and rain bowled around the Hut as Minerva stepped through into the small room. The older lady was almost soaked through to the skin and she gratefully accepted a blanket and warm steaming mug of tea from Hagrid.
"Well that's the final sale on the house in Hogsmeade done and dusted." Minerva explained after the warmth returned to her fingers. "Sold to a lovely young couple with a baby", she went on to explain to them. The rain had just started in earnest as she'd made her way back up to the castle. She relaxed into the armchair and let out a long sigh of resignation.
"You lived in Hogsmeade?" Circe asked.
"With my late husband, Elphinistone."
"Oh Minerva, I'm sorry…"
"Oh don't be, child." Minerva replied with a small smile on her lips. "Elphinistone and I didn't have much time together, but the time we did have, in that house, was happy."
"When you eventually did agree to marry 'im." Hagrid teased.
Minerva chuckled and playfully swatted Hagrid with the back of her hand.
"I've always wondered where the married Professors live." Circe pondered. "Being a teacher at Hogwarts seems like a bit of a bachelor's job."
"You're quite right." Minerva replied. "The Professor's life hardly lends itself to spouses and families. But yes, I was quite lucky that there was a quaint little idyllic highland village in walking distance of Hogwarts where I could hide my husband away!"
Circe and Hagrid both laughed.
Circe mentally went through all of her colleagues: Divorced, widowed, separated… The only eligible young singleton was… Severus.
The thought came screaming into her head and she fought to keep the image of his dark, harsh, but not wholly unattractive features from her mind's eye. There was something decidedly Byronic about him, for sure. She felt her chest flutter at this inner concession and she shifted uncomfortably in her seat.
"I bet you left quite a few young men behind in Edinburgh." Minerva asked, peering over her glasses.
"Pfft! Hardly…" Circe replied dismissively, but still blushing a deep red. She felt like Minerva was a mind-reader sometimes. "Once you know the spell to open your own jars, men become obsolete rather quickly."
"Oi!" Hagrid interjected.
The two women laughed.
"Oh, you do remind me of myself when I was your age, you know." Minerva added with a far-away smile. "Oh Hagrid, I needed your assistance with something important." She added, fixing the giant with a determined look that snapped her from her reminiscing.
"Oh I've already moved Fluffy up to the-"
"No no that's not it." Minerva cut in quickly.
She cast a quick look over to Circe and she realised any behaviour so secretive from Mcgonagall must have something to do with the Stone. Not that I mattered. Nothing of what Hagrid said made sense to her. Circe put her fingers in her ears.
"I didn't hear anything!" She shouted jokily.
Minerva tutted to herself, content that she had not caused a breech in secrecy.
"No...Having just sold my home, I find myself in quite the generous mood. No doubt you heard about our new Seeker?"
"I did…" Circe said, offering her to continue.
"Well, Potter barely has enough clean shirts to get him through the week, let alone enough money to buy a full Quidditch kit and a broom. Luckily, Wood managed to kit him out with items from the lost-and-found, so that only leaves..."
"A broom? You're going to buy him a broom?"
"Not just a broom. I want to get that boy the best broom. A Nimbus 2000."
"Bloody hell! That'll set y'back a few paychecks."
"Well you see, my problem is… I can't be seen to be buying it myself. A bit unethical, you see, to be buying gifts for students."
"Hmm favouritism and all that…" Circe added, peering over her own glasses at Minerva.
"Quite. So I need someone else to place the order at Broomstix."
"Broomstix in Diagon Alley?" Circe asked thoughtfully.
"Of course. If I write to the goblins in Gringotts and leave instructions for them, Hagrid could you-"
"Wait, hang on. I might know someone at Broomstix." Circe interrupted.
Minerva pursed her lips in surprise. "Who?"
"Myron." Circe said simply.
"Oh good lord. That bohemian-type that you used to hang about with when you were in school?"
"Yeah, that's him…"
"Didn't ye used t'play music together? Up in the courtyard just outside the Staff Room." Hagrid scratched his head.
"Yeah…" Circe blushed slightly. "Still do sometimes. Not here, I mean. At pubs and gig venues when we can."
"What is it you used t' call yerselves?" Hagrid asked, beaming from ear to ear.
"... The Weird Sisters."
Minerva let out a small giggle and covered her mouth demurely.
"So he's working in Broomstix is he?"
"When he can't get gigs, yeah."
"Wonderful."
"I'll write to him, if you want? Ask him if he can give us mate's-rates on the Nimbus 2000?"
"Oh would you? That would be spectacular."
Potter better be the best Seeker this side of the century, Circe thought.