A Push in the Right Direction – Chapter Two – emersli1!

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Severus didn’t really know how he’d gotten here.  For that matter, he didn’t really know where ‘here’ was.  It was cold.  It was dark.  It was wet, with either snow or rain… he couldn’t quite tell.

When he had left Tourno’s house he had wandered in bewilderment until he came to the coast.  Looking at the water and wondering if he should just jump in and let it close over him, he had suddenly looked up to see a member of the Polizia moving toward him.

In a panic, and not really caring where he landed, Severus had apparated.

Now he was lying on the ground somewhere, trying to decide whether to get up or not.  He could just lay there until the snow covered him.

“Well, you’re not at all what I expected.”

Looking up Severus saw an old man peering down at him doubtfully.  He just closed his eyes and waited for whatever the man wanted to do to him.  

“Come on boy, up you get.”  An arm slipped under his shoulders, and Severus found himself sitting up.  The insistently helpful arm tugged at him until he was actually standing, or at least wobbling, on his own two legs.

“There ye go.  C’mon then lad.  Not far to the house.  And the wards won’t reject you since I’m with you.”  Well at least he’d landed in a wizarding area.  Severus supposed that was something.

A few steps, and then a warm wash of light spilled over him.  Severus looked around a small, cozy living room with a cheerfully burning fire at one end.  His companion dropped him rather unceremoniously in a chair close to the fire.

“Now, ye stay there out of trouble.  I’ll be gettin’ ya some dry clothes and a bit of something to warm up your insides.”  The voice drifted off as Severus stared dumbly into the dancing flames.

“Here we go.  Let’s get this on now.”  Magic washed over him gently and the sensation of wet cloth was replaced with a feeling of soft warmth.  Looking down absently Severus noticed he’d been dressed in a warm, sturdy sweater in what appeared to be blue and green.  Grey pants and slippers completed the ensemble.

The scent of spices and grapes reached him, his brain absently sorting out the different scents.  Probably a calming potion mixed in with mulled wine.  Severus mentally shrugged.  He felt almost preternaturally calm, but he didn’t suppose it would do him any harm.

When the goblet was held to his lips, he drank.  Hmmm.  Yes, as he thought.  Mulled wine laced with a mild calming potion.  Probably with a base of soporous bean and lavender.  Mixed well with the spices in the wine actually.  He didn’t notice the bitter aftertaste usually associated with the bean.

A chuckle sounded from nearby and the voice spoke up.  “Why, thank ye very much.  I do try.”

Oh.  He must have said that out loud.  Idly, Severus wondered what else he might have said out loud.

“Too much, I’d wager.  Yer in shock, boy.  Bounced off my wards and landed in my back garden.  Lucky to have all your bits if ye apparated in this condition.”  The man joined him in front of his fire.  “Now… can you tell me how ye came to be here?  I don’t often have boys falling out of the sky into my vegetables.”

“I passed my Level 3 today, in Potions.  I was apprenticing with Master Tourno in Marsala.”  Severus felt almost as though it were someone else talking, or maybe someone else he was talking about.  Somehow the beginning of the day seemed so far away now.  “I needed a sponsorship to complete my Level 2.  Master Tourno found someone, said it was a business opportunity.”

Severus let his head fall back against the upholstered back of the chair.  “When we clasped arms in agreement … that’s when I felt the terrible burning… and something vile burrowing into my magical core.”

He laughed ruefully.  “I chose Sicily because Death Eaters weren’t allowed.  I was trying to escape.  It never occurred to me … I thought …”

The old man looked incredibly sad.  “Oh lad, I can imagine what ye thought.  And you should have been able to trust your master … indeed he has broken the apprenticeship covenant and will no doubt pay for that when Magic demands her due.  But none of that helps you now.”

“No.  Nothing can help me now.  You should have left me in the snow.”  Severus stared hopelessly into the fire.

The man scoffed loudly.  “Oh, I think we can do a bit better by ye than that young man.  Do ye have any idea whose garden ye just crashed into?”

Severus looked over at the man apathetically.  “No.”  He didn’t have the interest or the energy to ask the obvious follow-up question.

“Well lad, you’re in no condition to discuss it tonight anyway.  Come along.”  The perplexing man hopped up and moved to a door concealed in a shadowy area of the room.

Severus heaved himself up and followed along, more out of habit in following orders than any true curiosity.

Behind the door was a cozy room, with its own fireplace.  A large, comfortable-looking bed took up most of the room, but over in front of the fire was a chair with a side table and a tall bookcase.  And on the wall by the head of the bed was a writing desk and chair.

All in all, it was a very homey space, with the final piece of furniture being a large cedar chest at the foot of the bed.  The old man was moving around the bed, turning down the covers and fluffing the pillows, as though Severus were an invited guest.

“Now then.  Tomorrow we will put our heads together and see what we can redeem from this nasty situation.  But for tonight, rest easy my young friend.  No villain or former master will find you here.”  He patted Severus’s hand as he slipped  out the door and shut it quietly.

Still feeling strangely disconnected, Severus lay down on the bed and pulled the covers over himself.

Perhaps tomorrow would be soon enough.

Severus woke disoriented and confused.

It took him several minutes to pull his thoughts into some sort of order.  Praying it had all been some sort of nightmare, he pulled his arm out from under the warm, comfortable quilt.  Gritting his teeth, he looked.  

The horrible mark glared back at him, dark black lines surrounded by red, swollen skin.  As though his body had tried to fight off the intruder, was still trying to fight against the corruption inked into his skin and burrowed into his core.

Tears started to slip hopelessly down his face as he stared at the crumbling of his small, simple dreams.  A sob jerked out before he could catch it, shame curling through him at how easily he had been manipulated.

“Ah lad.  I’m so sorry.”  The lilting voice from last night seemed to surround him, and an arm went around his shoulders.  “Let it out now, if ye want.  Me mother always said better out than in.”

Severus cried harder.  He cried for the little boy with bruises and broken bones.  For the eleven-year-old who left for school hopeful, only to meet with prejudice of one sort or another at every turn.  For the sixteen-year-old who couldn’t even afford to bury his mother, having to consign her to a pauper’s grave on the edge of town.  For the eighteen-year-old who worked his heart out, trying to earn his chance.  

For the nineteen-year-old he’d been yesterday… eager to share the results of his hard work with people he thought cared for him.  

For the him of last evening, who thought for one brief, shining moment that all his dreams had come true.

Severus cried for all he had been … and then he shut the door on his grief.

Looking into the face he barely remembered from last night, Severus asked what seemed the most important question.

“Do you have a restroom I could use?”

Severus sat at the table and studied the man across from him over his porridge.

He was old.  Very old.  Possibly one hundred fifty, maybe older.

He was a small man, with a wiry strength still in his arms.

He had a lilting to his voice that seemed to speak of green islands or boggy marshes, yet Severus knew he could not have apparated all the way to Ireland or Wales.

He had intelligence in his eyes, as well as compassion.  His kindness was written in the wrinkles on his face, his humor in the gentle lines around his mouth and eyes.

And he had the hands of a potions master.  Nicks, cuts, small burns.  Callouses from years of knife work.  Stains that might never come out.

The man put his mug down with a bit of a thump and sighed.   “All right then.  I’ll go first, shall I?”  Offering his hand across the table, he introduced himself.  “Ambrose ap Gaiar, Master Potions Master, at your service.”

Severus stared at the man dumbly for a moment.   Of all the gardens in the world he might have apparated into, how had he managed this?  Master Gaiar was well known in the potions community.  Indeed, many of the potions used commonly in hospitals and healing centers around the world were developed by this man.  He had devoted his life to finding cures and treatments for the ailments that plagued the wizarding world.  He had retired, whereabouts undisclosed, before Severus was born, but every potions student knew of Master Gaiar.

“That means it’s your turn now, boyo.”  The man simply sat there with his hand outstretched, seemingly amused by Severus’s surprise.

Slowly Severus reached out and shook hands.  “Severus Snape, Potions Brewer.  Pleased to meet you?”  How was this his life?  

A firm handshake was exchanged, before the men went back to their breakfast in a pensive sort of silence.

When the last bite had been eaten, his host got up to clear the table.  Severus jumped up to help, and between the two of them their bowls and spoons were soon gleaming and back in their cabinets.

Master Gaiar indicated Severus’s chair from the previous evening, taking his chair opposite.  “Alright lad.  I’ve been havin’ a think, and I’ve come up with a few things we can do.  First of all, is your contract for twice time, or something else?”

“Twice time.  Just a standard contract.”  Severus thought about the conversation.  “He tried to tease me into a longer commitment.  Offered the possibility of a Level 1, but I didn’t agree.  I said we’d need to see how our working relationship went.  He gave me the choice of master, and said he’d send for me when the Guild contacted him that I’d passed my Boards for Level 2.”

The old man appeared satisfied.  “Good job.  Very well.  That gives us more options.”

Nodding in decision, Gaiar looked him in the eye.  “I’ve blocked the intrusion from going deeper into your core.  Slowed down the corruption.  I wish I could stop it, but there’s an element there I can’t replicate.  I’ll teach you to block it yourself during your time with me.”

“My time with you?”  Severus questioned in confusion.

“Yes, indeed.  Given the twice time agreement, the sooner you can complete your Level 2 apprenticeship the less time you’ll actually be compelled in service.  We’ll shoot for two years.  It will take great focus and determination, but I think you can do it.  One thing I do suggest is that you take another name.  I can report your progress under that name.  The Guild will issue the standard notification to your sponsor, but your license would be in a name he doesn’t know.”

“I don’t understand…” Severus began.

“It will give you anonymity to publish during your time of service, and give you anonymity to escape to following.  You’ll almost certainly eventually be criminalized in Britain under your own name, simply for your associations.  A new name, held in reserve, could make all the difference to your career.”  The man seemed to have thought of everything.

“Actually, I have another name already.  I’ve never used it in the wizarding world, but I changed it through the muggle courts after my mother died.  She begged me to do something to get away from my da, so he couldn’t track me down.  We didn’t expect him to die in a prison brawl three months after she passed.  The court process for the name change had already begun, so I just let it continue.  I sold the only thing still connected to him to pay my Level 1 fees.”  Severus didn’t like thinking about that time in his life.

He remembered the concern when his mother failed to meet the Express that winter.  Scrambling through the station and stowing away on the train to Manchester, then running all the way home from the station.  Finding his mother shaking with fever, in a freezing room with one thin blanket.  The heat had been turned off again.

Severus would never forget the way she clutched at him, begged him through her coughs and shudders.  Told him where to find the last of the money she had squirreled aside to pay his final year’s tuition at Hogwarts.  And told him where to find the emancipation paperwork.  Eileen Snape had had no idea how to operate in the muggle bureaucracy, but for her son … she had persevered.  She had what he needed to free himself, and as he’d stood in the field on the edge of town where her body had been laid to rest by the city, Severus had promised his mother to escape.

He guessed that was another broken promise.  Or maybe, that was his saving grace.