Chapter 28

Into the Pensieve

The rebuilding of Hogwarts began in earnest the day after the memorial. The Dutch Carpenter Elves arrived and swarmed the castle, repairing banisters, rebuilding stairs, and installing new windows. These elves were the only ones who could handle such a task, because they were the only ones who understood the magic that caused the stairs to shift, rotate, and disappear.

Meanwhile goblins went to work on restoration of the gilding throughout the castle. By nature, goblins were untrusting of wizards; they believed that anything originally made by goblins truly belonged to goblins, and therefore had been stolen by the wizard who possessed it. It was not uncommon for a goblin to make off with items that they justified as theirs, regardless of the actual facts in the case. Therefore, wizards were likewise untrusting of goblins. A staff member was required to keep an eye on the goblins to make sure Hogwarts wasn't ripped off. Charity was thankful to have been excused from this particular duty as she was not regarded as tough enough to deal with the unpleasant species.

The Centaurs, who had come to the wizards' aid at the end of the battle, set aside their pride and agreed to help with manual labor during the rebuilding process. They were invaluable for carrying lumber from the forest and hauling much of the rubble out to the dumpsite. In addition, there seemed to have been reconciliation between Firenze and the rest of the herd.

Charity, who'd regained some of her old energy after the funeral, spent most of her time cleaning up after the workers and gluing portrait frames back together. She wandered down to the dungeons to search through the worst cases, which had already been picked over for anything salvageable. Muggles would have burned such remains without ado, and that's probably what wizards should have done, but since the occupants of these paintings had their own two-dimensional, oil-based lives, it seemed as if someone should at least try to save them.

Charity's tea party girls hadn't yet surfaced, so she elected to give the remains one more go. Any small hopes of finding her girls disappeared the moment she laid eyes on the tattered mound in the center of the dungeon room. Ninety minutes of searching brought her a small section of canvas that depicted a portion of the familiar fireplace and another with a chunk of the telltale sideboard. All else was charred beyond recognition. Charity took the two scraps with her; there would be no proper memorial for these girls, but Charity would at least box and bury this much as a tribute her dear friends.

It was getting to be time for the professors to start planning for the upcoming school year. There had been talk of taking a one-year hiatus, but it was unanimously decided that the best thing to do was to push forward and educate the next generation on schedule. Muggle Studies was now going to be a two-year minimum requirement for all students that hoped to graduate from Hogwarts. Not only that, there was talk making Muggle Studies a more significant portion of the O.W.L. exams. If this happened, the Hogwarts Muggle Studies professor would likely become a member of the Committee on Magical Academics (C.O.M.A.) to help develop the new tests.

Charity had a very busy year ahead of her. She was glad she hadn't added further distraction to her life by revealing to anyone the full extent of her relationship with Severus Snape. At first she'd been reluctant to share this information because of how one-sided the relationship had been, but she also realized that the tiniest hint of any romance between her and Snape would turn positively scandalous in the hands of someone like a Rita Skeeter. Best to keep those details to herself.

Charity sighed as she thought about these things while on break one day in her old office. She'd been re-reading the article for which she'd been interviewed in Magical Minds Weekly and subconsciously ran a loving finger over the photo of Snape that accompanied it. It was a very good picture. It had been snapped as Snape looked off toward some distant point, his black eyes slightly narrowed in concentration and his face set in quiet determination. He didn't move, probably because Snape had never been very animated in real life, but it was exactly how Charity wanted to remember him.

She pulled out the antique silver picture frame and cropped Snape's photo with her wand to make it fit. She placed the picture in the frame and tucked the precious note behind it. When she turned the frame over to see the effect, it shone more lustrously than it ever had, even after being freshly polished. A faint monogram at the bottom of the frame caught Charity's eye. She'd never noticed it before. It was etched with the initials: APM

As Charity reached her fingertips toward the lettering, Harry Potter appeared in her doorway. With his eyes. He'd arrived back at Hogwarts the day before to help with the rebuilding and who knows what else. Charity instinctively laid the frame face down.

"Professor Burbage?" Potter asked tentatively.

"Yes, Harry?"

"Sometime, when you have a few minutes, I was wondering if you could come with me. It's regarding Professor Snape," he said gently.

Something in Potter's tone made Charity nervous. She pushed herself up from the floor where she'd been sitting and knocked over a stack of dusty books piled next to her. "Is now alright?" she asked anxiously.

"Yes," he said quickly, seeming relieved that she'd acquiesced so quickly. "This way."

They walked in silence as she followed him to the headmaster's office. McGonagall had taken over the post of headmaster, but she was nowhere to be seen at the moment. It seemed Potter had quite a bit of authority around the castle as he marched directly into the vacant office after telling the stone gargoyle at its entrance, "Snapdragons."

The only time Charity had ever been in this office was for her interview with Dumbledore, nearly four years earlier. Very little had changed in the office since then; somehow it had been spared the ravages of battle. One small difference, which Charity found pleasing, was the black cloth shrouds covering the portraits of the stern old men and women that lined the walls. Charity had never figured out that these were portraits of all the deceased headmasters of Hogwarts. She caught bits and pieces of the portraits' grumblings. They did not seem at all happy with their predicament, which she supposed was some tradition to do with mourning the latest occupant of this office.

"…someone entered the room. I say, who's there?"

"… a most disrespectful way to treat…"

"…off to Grimauld. Do send word when you can see the light…"

"Who's there? I say who's there?"

Ironically, the covered portrait that most drew Charity's attention was one that was completely silent. Her attention left the portrait when Harry steered her around to a small spindly table with a shallow, stone basin set upon it.

"Do you know what a Pensieve is?" Harry asked.

"I've heard of them, yes, but I didn't know they actually existed, at least not in modern times," Charity answered as she looked at the basin. A Pensieve was a device in which one could review thoughts and memories. These thoughts and memories were retrieved from the mind and either placed directly into the basin of the Pensieve or stored in a jar for future review.

"…Potter boy again…" muttered one of the portraits. Charity could almost hear his eyes rolling.

"…someone with him…"

With his full attention on the Pensieve, Harry explained that he had retrieved some of Snape's memories on the night he died. "That's how I learned a lot of the stuff I talked about during the interview," he told Charity.

Charity nodded in comprehension. "I had the impression that you may have left out a few things," she said.

"Er, yeah, there were some things that Snape - Professor Snape - might not want the whole world to know." Potter hesitated and then said, "I'm not going to show you all of the memories either, but there are some here that I know he'd want you to see. I don't think he would have shared them otherwise."

Charity nodded her assent, and the two of them bent over the Pensieve as Harry poured the contents of a small glass vial into it. The contents, which seemed to be half liquid, half something else, swirled around in the bowl-like device. Every once in a while Charity thought she could see indistinct shapes starting to form before they quickly dissolved into ambiguous swirls.

"Right then, we're going to lean all the way in," Potter explained. "It's going to feel like you're falling for a while, but we'll be okay. Oh, and no one else will be able to see you while we're in there, because they're just memories." He hesitated for a few moments and then added, "Probably best to stay inconspicuous though, just in case. Well, are you ready?"

Charity nodded. Her mouth was dry, partly because of nervousness at the new experience and partly for another reason. She'd only recently come to terms with everything involving Snape and wasn't sure how new revelations in the Pensieve might affect her delicate emotional balance. At the same time, she knew that it was not possible for her to walk away from the opportunity to see Snape again, in any form. She took a deep breath and leaned forward.

It did indeed feel as if she was free falling amongst a blur of swirling colors, but she eventually came to a soft landing, as promised. The blurred colors came into focus, and Charity saw that they were back at the Yule Ball, three and half years earlier. She spent a long while taking in the scene. All the students looked so young and lighthearted. Those had certainly been happier times; nobody knew then that they were on the cusp of a new war. Charity would have gladly stayed in that scene forever. The present-tense Harry directed her attention to the long banquet table filled with desserts. She caught sight of Snape at the table and inhaled loudly. She looked quickly around before remembering that nobody from the memory could see or hear her. The Charity of almost four years ago stood by Snape, talking to him.

"…I'm going to make you like me," she said and walked away.

Today's Charity remained standing by Snape who stared after her past self as she walked further away. As he stared, he murmured quietly under his breath, "Heaven help me - I think I already do."

Charity barely had time to take this in before the room became blurred with swirls of bright colors that faded into more subdued tones. The scene cleared to reveal Dumbledore's office. Charity knew they had jumped ahead at least a year and a half, because she could see that beneath Dumbledore's sleeve, his hand was black and shriveled. Dumbledore and Snape stood by the window talking.

"I see that you've became better acquainted with Professor Burbage while I was away," Dumbledore said conversationally.

Snape looked carefully at Dumbledore as he answered, "Rather difficult not to with her flitting about all the time."

Dumbledore chuckled and said, "Yes, well, she does seem to 'flit' around you more so than she does around any of our other teachers."

Snape's face turned stony with concentration and he avoided eye contact with the headmaster.

Dumbledore said, "Occlumency won't do you any good here Severus. As the Muggles say, body language speaks quite loudly. Not to mention, she's not nearly as adept as are you at blocking others from reading her thoughts. You should be congratulated, Severus, for capturing the attention of such a charming witch." Snape's face softened a bit, and Dumbledore continued, "I daresay, she may have captured your attention as well?"

"Perhaps," was Snape's only answer. He was now looking at Dumbledore questioningly through slightly narrowed eyes. He was clearly wondering how this could possibly be of so much interest to him.

"Yes, I thought something like this might be possible the first time I watched her glittering around the room at the Homes for Hags benefit. Opposites do often attract, you know," Dumbledore said lightly.

Snape did not respond. He merely watched Dumbledore intently, waiting for him to make his point.

"The only trouble is, Severus, we have other urgent and very serious matters before us now. I'm afraid we cannot risk any sort of distraction from our purpose."

Snape opened his mouth in protest, but Dumbledore quieted him with a raised hand and continued, "Oh, you've never let me down Severus. I know you never would if you could control it. Matters of the heart, however, cannot always be controlled, as you well know. Although love is often the impetus behind great acts of courage, we cannot always say how we will react when love is threatened, as it most definitely will be in our particular case."

Snape cast his eyes down to the floor with an expression that looked like resignation. His shoulders slumped and his jaw clenched.

"It's not forever Severus," Dumbledore said gently. "Just for a while. Don't you see, with the world under the imminent threat of Voldemort, true love is never going to thrive. It will only be in defeating Voldemort that any of us will ever be able to love freely and openly. Severus, you are our best chance of defeating Voldemort. You need to stay focused and strong for a while longer so that the rest of your life can be spent however and with whomever you choose."

Dumbledore paused to let Snape absorb what he'd just told him. Then he continued, "I can see that you gain a certain strength from her. Keep that, use that. But I am afraid that I must ask you to distance yourself from her or else risk making clouded decisions at the most crucial times."

When Snape looked up, his face was stone, but Charity could see a fresh sadness deep in his black eyes. A swirl of gray tones raced for a few brief seconds before settling to reveal past-tense Charity and Snape in a hallway off the Entrance Hall. She finished telling Snape off about 'silliness' and turned into the torch that had lit her cape on fire. Snape took a step towards her but stopped himself once Charity had the flames safely quenched. As her past self stumbled down the hall, Snape watched her with pain tensing every muscle on his face.

The present-tense Charity stood facing Snape and whispered, "Why didn't you tell me?" The swirling tones returned, becoming lighter and lasting longer.

The scene before them mutated into Chaity's Hogwarts apartment. Charity saw herself asleep in front of a smoking cauldron on her kitchen counter. Snape gently lifted her and carried her to her bed. For the first time Charity became keenly aware of Harry's presence and turned to give him an embarrassed look at being caught in such an intimate situation with another professor. Harry answered her with a quick shake of his head that told her not to worry about it.

Snape gently laid her on her bed and sat for a couple minutes staring at her. Then he leaned down and softly pressed his lips to her forehead. He said shakily, "You'll never know…" before his voice appeared to give out completely. Then he stood, swiftly flipped on his cloak, and left.

The only color visible as they moved quickly on to the next memory was flashing green. In the middle of a large table, Charity saw a lifeless, pink lump, which she knew to be herself. Voldemort was at the end of the table saying, "Dinner, Nagini."1 Even in a memory, the strangely high-pitched voice sent chills careening through Charity while the huge snake slithered dangerously closer to her body.

Snape, one of the many observers around the table, suddenly stood up, nearly knocking over his chair. "My Lord!" he said forcefully. The snake halted its approach, and Snape forced his voice into calmer tones as he said, "As repulsive as I've always found her teachings, this is – was - a professor at Hogwarts, after all. Being the fine institution that began your glorious rise to supremacy, do you not wish a more dignified burial for one of its professors?"

Voldemort paused and called Nagini back. "Very well, Severus. I can concede to your sentiments, but only because of the valuable information you have given me tonight. Now remove it at once. I can no longer stand the sight!"

Snape pulled Charity's body off the table. As he carried her out of the room, she heard Voldemort's high-pitched voice say, "Sorry, Nagini, but have a look around, anyone else look tasty to you?" His horrible laugh filled the room.

Snape took Charity to the small dark room where she had eventually regained consciousness. In the memory, she was still lying limp and Snape was bent over her, shaking and sobbing. Present-tense Charity stood in some shock as she watched Snape's black form convulsing up and down while he cried and tried to speak. She could only make out a few words here and there, "...please…please…don't die…not again…"

Charity felt Harry's presence sharply and hoped he wouldn't think less of Snape for this rare loss of control. A quick glance at Harry, who stood with his eyes downcast, told her that he wasn't judging him. She turned back to Snape and wished that he'd let her see even a tiny bit of this emotion after she'd woken.

The swirl of colors lasted a bit longer, telling Charity that they were jumping several months ahead this time. They were back in Dumbledore's office. It looked very much as it had outside the Pensieve except, of course, the portraits were uncovered. In the memory, the occupants of the portraits slept in their frames. Rhythmic breathing, punctuated by an occasional soft snort, filled the room. Snape was alone, sitting at the great desk writing on a piece of parchment.

"You're going to want to read that," Harry told Charity. "Now," he added with some urgency when she hesitated.

As Charity approached Snape, she looked up to see Albus Dumbledore gently sleeping in the portrait behind the desk. She warmed at the sight of him; it was comforting to know that some semblance of Dumbledore would always be at Hogwarts. She continued behind Snape and peered over his shoulder to read the letter. She let out a small exclamation when she saw the familiar tarnished silver picture frame lying a few inches from the parchment. She read as he wrote:

C-

I told you that it was the weaker part of me that saved you

from the Dark Lord. That may be true, but it was also the best

part of me – the only part that I want to keep when this is over.

I cannot tell you what it meant to me, how it strengthened my

resolve, when you did not recoil upon first seeing my Dark Mark.

Instead, you drew closer. To then push you away – it was as

difficult to do as anything that has been asked of me. Yet that

night, when I needed you most of all, you did not turn me away.

You need to know that there was - is another. For many years

now my heart has belonged to the past. A past I'm not sure I can

ever let go of. I can only tell you that when I look into her eyes I

see my past; when I look into yours I see my future. You say that

I am a good man. I think that you only see what you want to see,

but I would venture that you,

Here Snape hesitated then put the quill back to the parchment

...my love, are good enough for the

both of us. I've never before desired something so simple ~~~~

The ink of his quill trailed off onto the paper, and Snape sat back and sighed, "I'm a fool."

The letter burst into flames and disintegrated. Charity chirped in surprise and jumped at the ashes of the letter, trying to save it, but the charred remains merely drifted through her hands. Snape pushed himself up from his chair and walked through Charity and around the desk. He went over to the window and leaned heavily against it. Charity stayed by the desk to watch him, still lamenting the loss of the letter.

Snape pointed his wand out the open window into the clear night and uttered, "Expecto Patronum."

The glowing doe came galloping out of his wand, sending tiny pin pricks of jealousy through Charity's heart. In the sparkling glow that trailed behind the doe, another figure suddenly emerged. Was she seeing it right? Charity ran straight to the window, not bothering to go around the large desk but right through it, and saw the figure clearly – it was a small, silvery bird, fluttering happily about and eventually disappearing into the distance in a different direction from the doe. Charity stood, taking great gulps of air as she tried to catch her breath. She was amazed by what she'd just seen. A double Patronus! What would Lockhart have to say about this?

Charity turned with wide eyes to Snape and saw that he remained at the window, staring off in the direction into which the bird had disappeared. She detected the tiniest evidence of a smile on his lips and a happy glint in his eye. Charity's heart swelled. She fought back tears, because she wanted to take in Snape's every detail before she had to leave him.

She reluctantly emerged from the Pensieve, aching to stay and watch memories that stretched into Snape's future, a future with her. But his memories ended forever soon after that last.

Severus did love her, and it appeared he'd started long before she was ever aware of it. As welcome as these memories had been, they made clear the full enormity of Charity's loss, and she felt every bit of it. Hot, silent tears ran down her face. The tears grew into sobs as she ached for Severus to be here, really here, with her. There was no point in wondering what to do for the pain, because there was nothing she could do; she had only to feel it. She clutched the edges of the spindly table and stared into the Pensieve, her breath coming out in rapid, burning bursts. She wanted to sink into despair, but something held her up and kept her from it. She stood and stared into nothingness for she didn't know how long.

Charity finally regained some composure and remembered Harry. She raised her eyes and saw him standing against a wall, looking extremely uncomfortable. She was sure that he must be questioning his judgment in bringing her into the Pensieve, so she held a hand out to him.

When he walked over and took it, she said in a teary voice, "Thank you." She wiped her eyes with her free hand and continued, "I will always treasure these memories…I would have gone my whole life not knowing…" Sobs threatened to consume her again, so she left it at that, and she and Harry remained in silence, save for Charity's involuntary intakes of breath as her body tried to stop crying.

After a while, Charity took in a deep breath and exhaled slowly. Then she said, "Please don't think I am ungrateful, but Severus was a very private man, and I'm not sure..."

Harry cut her off, saying, "Look - I know that he wanted you to see that." His tone made her understand this as a fact, not just Harry's conjecture, and she was again grateful.

"Thanks, Harry," she said, examining him. She was taking him into account more than she had ever done before. "You really are a remarkable young man," she said with the air of having just made a discovery.

Harry gave her a gentle smile in return. She spent a few more minutes in thought, then asked, "Have you had done with his memories now? Because if you have, I think…I think he would want us to release them. Not to others, but I mean to…to pour them out. I just don't think Severus would want his private thoughts and memories sitting in a jar for anyone who happens to stumble upon them to see. Do you know what I mean?"

Harry glanced toward the silent portrait and nodded. "Yeah, I know what you mean," he said. "I think you're right."

The two of them walked over to the window, and Charity opened it so Harry could tip the contents of the Pensieve out. The silvery substance floated away and dissipated into the atmosphere. As they watched the memories disappear, Charity would swear to this day that she saw a tiny speck of a bird flitter into the distance before it too dissolved. It was almost as if the happiness of the bird had drifted into Charity and began to replace her earlier desperation. She felt something like hope growing inside her as she continued looking out the window toward where the memories had gone. They weren't actually gone at all, because she wasn't likely to ever forget even the slightest detail.

As Harry held the office door open for her on their way out, Charity turned to him and asked, "Did you see the bit about the letter?"

Harry gave an uncomfortable, "Er, yeah."

"Do you think…um, do you think when he said he wanted something 'simple' – do you think he meant me, like I am simple, as in not very bright, or…or what do you think he meant?"

Harry's mouth grew into a relieved grin as he shook his head and answered, "I honestly couldn't say."

"Ah well," Charity said, shaking it off. There would be plenty of time examine that later. For now she was going to fixate on 'my love' for a good long time.

THE END

Footnotes:

(1) Quote from Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows by J.K. Rowling, pg. 12

Author's Note:

THANK YOU for reading this story through to the end. Thanks especially to those of you who put Professor Burbage and the Potions Master on your favorites and alerts list and, of course, to all my faithful reviewers. You have made sharing this story horribly fun and I can't wait to hear what you think of this final chapter.

If you want some more Charity...I've started posting the sequel to this story. It's titled "Charity Burbage and the New Prince." I'd love to see you there!