The Burning Pen

A New Beginning
by Ruth Solomon

The story content is adult in nature and can contain graphic sex and violence.  Those under the age of 18 are asked to leave this site immediately.  You are not welcome here.  The author is not responsible for those under-aged who view these works.

CHAPTER 14

Disclaimer: All recognizable characters belong to JKR. All situations are mine. No $$$ is being made from this fanfic.
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Chapter 14 ~ Revealed

Severus was vaguely aware the alarm system was going off at the building site, and unsteadily rose, feeling the effect of four firewhiskeys drank in quick succession. He walked over to the far wall and looked at the little maintenance board, studying the name next to the flashing red light and saw immediately the Medi-Box had malfunctioned.

”It can wait until tomorrow,” he muttered, pressing the button to stop the alert, then slowly walking back and dropping into the armchair again. “She won’t die from self-neglect overnight. Eli!”

The elf immediately appeared at his side with a sandwich, offering it to the wizard. Snape looked at him then gestured for the elf to set it on the table. Eli did so and looked at him expectantly.

”Go inform Mrs. Weasley someone will be over to look at her Medi-Box in the morning,” he told the elf.

”Yes, sir,” Eli said, winking out.

Snape ran one pale hand over his face and stared into the fire. He’d had enough firewhiskey. Getting drunk wasn’t going to change anything. He picked up the sandwich and took a bite, chewing thoughtfully.

The Potions master was sure Hermione was on to him now. He had been so upset at Hugo that he lashed out without thinking. If only he hadn’t responded to the boy. But he was so stupid, the Professor couldn’t help chastising him and did so in his signature manner. Old habits were hard to break and his response had been like breathing.

Idiot boy.

Hell, Hugo was an idiot.

Well, he was in for it now. It was only a matter of time before the confrontation.

Snape sat there in silence.

Only a matter of time before his continued existence would become common knowledge. Dear gods, he only hoped he could somehow avoid the media circus his life would become. He’d have to reinstall the nastier wards. No doubt the Paparazzi would be out in full effect, and they were quite creative when finding ways to crash a wizard’s privacy.

Hmm. Well, maybe it would be good for business. People actually looking for Sparse Venue products because he owned it and everyone would want a piece of history. Yes, that could be a benefit.

Actually, Snape felt he’d be able to deal with most of the hoopla. It was the personal interactions he really didn’t want to face . . . one person in particular.

Harry Potter. The Boy Who Lived.

Snape had seen the ad Harry ran in the Daily Prophet offering five thousand galleons for the return of his body. No doubt the wizard had felt a sense of responsibility and remorse concerning him once he learned the truth of his relationship with his mother. No doubt seeing Harry would open up those old wounds, not that they ever had completely closed in the first place.

He still didn’t want them ripped open wider. Lily was a dull ache beneath his every thought and action. Something he could never find closure on. Even helping Harry kill her murderer didn’t serve to absolve him of his guilt, or his love. If only he could have told her how he felt . . . just once. Not that it would have probably made a difference, but still he would have let it out of his heart and received some kind of answer from her. He could have learned how she felt and why.

He would never, ever know.

He began to blink rapidly. Damn it. He hated to think about Lily. It was so fucking painful.

He finished his sandwich and went to bed.

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The noise blaring around Hermione suddenly stopped and Eli winked in. The elf looked at the blasted Medi-Box with wide eyes, then at Hermione.

”Someone will comes tomorrow to fix the box, Miss,” the elf said to the witch.

”Tomorrow? What about tonight?” Hermione demanded.

“You will not dies before the box is fixed, Miss,” Eli said to her, frowning slightly.

It was clear to see she had purposely hexed the box.

“Will Mr. Vespers be coming?” Hermione asked the elf.

”Someone will comes,” Eli said evasively.

”I want Mr. Vespers. I have some questions for him,” Hermione said sharply.

The reason she blasted the box in the first place was to get Snape here.

”I will passes that on,” Eli said, preparing to wink out.

”Hold it, Eli. I want to ask you something,” Hermione said to the elf, whose ears flicked toward her. “Where do you go when you aren’t here?”

“I goes to where I belongs, Miss,” the elf replied.

Hermione scowled at him.

“And where is that?” she asked him.

Eli gave her a smirk.

”Where I belongs,” he said, winking out.

“Ooh,” Hermione hissed, stamping her foot as she stared at the empty space where the elf stood a second before. “He’s no help at all.”

Hermione walked back into the living room and sat down on the sofa. There was nothing more she could do other than think and wait. She wasn’t sure what she was going to do when “Mr. Vespers” showed up, if he showed up. If he didn’t, then Hermione could assume Snape knew she was on to him and was purposely avoiding him. If that was the case, she would have to go to Bartleby.

She still was reeling from the enormity of her discovery. She worked for Severus Snape. Merlin’s plaited beard. Now that she knew this, she couldn’t believe it took her this long to figure it out. The clues were all blatantly staring her in the face all this time. A Potions business, the anagrams, the Bezoar . . . it was all so obvious now.

But, she didn’t have any reason to think of Professor Snape after all these years. True, there were the hardcore believers who claimed he was in hiding, but Hermione considered all of them mad. Initially, she thought he might have survived, but after he didn’t surface gave it over to wishful thinking and basically let him fall to the back of her mind.

Well, he was certainly at the forefront now.

Her belly tightened at the idea of seeing the dark wizard after all these years. Will he have changed much in twenty years? He had to be in his late fifties now. Not really that old for a wizard . . . he had only lived a quarter of his life span so far. Would his hair be gray? Would he have wrinkles? Will his life of solitude show in a physical manner?

No. Sean moved quite well, when he moved at all in her presence. Mostly he stayed in one spot, and when he did move . . . it was usually away from her. Hermione realized that Snape probably thought she might be able to latch on to his walk or some action she remembered. The Professor always moved with grace and balance. Of course, his robes help amplify his gracefulness. Sean always wore a white uniform. White, the opposite color of what the Professor seemed to prefer. Black. He’d always worn black. Another attempt to throw her off the scent.

She certainly had a snootful of him now though and was latched on to it with all the determination of a muggle bloodhound. He couldn’t shake her. He was caught.

But how to get him to reveal himself? Should she just do a “Finite” spell and remove the glamour herself, or give him a chance to come clean on his own? More than likely he would have work wizards with him tomorrow. She didn’t want to reveal him in front of them. She wanted to be the first.

Suddenly, Hermione had a dark thought. Maybe Professor Snape would try to protect his identity by obliviating her. The witch scowled.

No, he wouldn’t do that. In order to make an obliviation work, he would have to also obliviate the mountain incident from the minds of Rose and Hugo, and they were out of his reach. But then again, if he were desperate enough, he could cast an Imperio spell on her and have her bring them back, then obliviate them as well.

Hermione suddenly realized how dangerous a situation she could be in. She would have to keep her wand at the ready the entire time he was present. She might even have to level it on him while she told him what she suspected. Or better yet, take his wand.

Damn. What if Professor Snape could do wandless magic? He had never shown that he could, but most likely he would have hidden that ability.

No. Harry told Hermione about when the Marauders took his wand and he was helpless. If he could have done wandless magic, he would have protected himself, she was certain.

Still, he couldn’t hurt her. Too many people knew she worked for Sparse Venues and she left every weekend. If she didn’t, there would be inquiries. Snape couldn’t afford to have his business investigated. He could be exposed that way as well.

Oh, she was going to have to be careful, very careful. Now she had made herself nervous. Not good. Not good at all. She had to keep her wits about her.

And how was she going to explain what happened to the Medi-Box? Maybe she could pawn it off on a fit of temper because of her work. Yes, she could attribute it to stress, and even use that to explain why she sent her children home. That might throw him off a bit.

Damn, this was going to be a lot more difficult than she first thought. She had no idea how the Professor was now. He could be meaner than ever after two decades of solitude.

Shit. Well, she was in for it now. She’d just have to be flexible and go with her instincts. That’s all she had to work with for now.

Feeling tense, Hermione decided to go to the exercise room and soak in the Jacuzzi for a while. It wasn’t a solution, but at least a temporary fix.

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”Authorized visitors,” the female voice announced.

Hermione stood up, her hand immediately going into her robes pocket as she walked to the apartment door. She took a deep breath.

This was it.

A knock sounded.

”Who is it?” she called.

”Sean Vespers,” came the raspy voice.

Hermione tried to relax and pasted a smile on her face, then pulled the door open. An unsmiling Sean Vespers stood there, his cap drawn low over his eyes and flanked by two work wizards.

”We’ve come to fix your Medi-Box,” the wizard said.

”Yes. Yes, come in,” Hermione said, stepping aside.

They entered the room, the two work wizards walking directly into Hermione’s bedroom as she stood looking at Sean.

One of the wizards came back out.

”We can’t fix that unit. A hole was blown straight through it, Mr. Vespers. It has to be replaced,” the wizard said, scowling at Hermione as if to ask “What the fuck did you do to it?”

”A hole?” Sean said, his mouth turned down as he looked at Hermione.

”I…I sort of had a bit of a . . . meltdown,” Hermione said, flushing.

Sean strode past her into the bedroom. Now that she knew it was Snape, she could tell his walk easily. Hermione followed as the wizard entered the room and stared at the ruined box. He turned on Hermione.

”You’re going to have this deducted from your salary,” he rasped, “This is not the result of a malfunction. You destroyed this unit. Sparse Venues isn’t going to support your temper tantrums”

Hermione nodded.

“That’s fine,” she said.

Sean continued to stare at her for a moment, then told the work wizards to take the box away. They pulled out their wands and levitated it, guiding it out of the bedroom, then out of the apartment.

Sean began to follow them when Hermione called him.

”Mr. Vespers, I’d like a word with you,” she said to the wizard, her heart pounding.

The wizard turned back to face her.

“A new unit will be delivered tomorrow, Mrs. Weasley,” he said shortly, starting to turn again.

“That’s not what I want to talk to you about,” Hermione said, her heart pounding so hard she could hardly hear herself speak.

“Professor Snape,” she added, whipping out her wand and pointing it at the wizard.

Sean turned back around slowly and stared at the witch, his mouth grim.

“Are you going to hex me, Mrs. Weasley?” he said, his voice silken now.

“That depends. Do I have to?” she responded.

Suddenly one of the work wizards appeared in the doorway with a piece of parchment in his hand. Hermione quickly lowered her wand.

“I need you to sign off on this, Mr. Vespers,” the wizard said, handing Snape the pen.

He took it and signed the parchment. The wizard thanked him and left.

”Two authorized visitors have left the premises,” the female voice announced, “Wards down.”

Snape turned back to Hermione, who had her wand trained on him again.

He sighed and removed his cap. Lank blonde hair fell to his shoulders and his black eyes rested on her. He looked a little like himself, but not much.

“You can lower your wand, Mrs. Weasley. Hexing you would not improve this situation,” he said to her, “You know it’s me and short of the obliviation of your entire family, there’s little I can do about that. You are in no danger from me.”

Hermione stared at him for a moment, then slowly began to lower her wand. Suddenly, she paused and raised it again.

”Finite,” she breathed.

The glamour melted away, revealing the lank, black hair, hawkish nose and trademark robes of the Potions Master. He didn’t look any different than she remembered him. Not at all. It seemed as if time had stopped for the wizard.

He looked down at himself, then at Hermione.

“Satisfied, Mrs. Weasley?” he asked her.

”Hardly,” she replied, “I have a million questions for you, Professor.”

”There will not be a million answers,” he replied, walking over to the armchair and sitting down in it, folding his hands as Hermione lowered her wand again, “The years have not made me any more talkative, Mrs. Weasley and despite you figuring out just who I am, you have no right to give me the third degree.”

Hermione sat down on the sofa, her amber eyes washing over the wizard. It was really him.

“All right,” she said slowly, “I’ll just ask you one question then, Professor . . .”

Snape looked at her, a bit of curiosity in his dark eyes.

“Why?”

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A/N: Thanks for reading.

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