Chapter 7: "I'm goin' one way, your way."

Circe walked with her arms full of books through Hogsmeade. On reflection, taking her lesson planning and prep to the pub with her may not have been a good idea...Her arms ached with the weight of the tomes she'd carried all the way from the castle. And she cast a rather conspicuous image for a "spy".

Why couldn't Severus have asked to meet in the bloody castle? She thought bitterly as an Ancient Hieroglyphics textbook almost slipped from her hands.

It had been a rather wet spring and she internally grimaced at the thought of dropping her books in the damp grass below. The brilliant white of winter had melted away to lush green. The great swathes of heather were beginning to bloom into colour on the highland hills. Hogwarts was nestled in a vibrant wash of purple and moss. The walk down to the village had Circe's temperature up, warming her nicely. It was still fairly chilly, with most days covering the sun in low hanging grey clouds. But the last of the April showers were, hopefully, gone and everything had a feeling of freshness or newness to it.

Circe settled into an empty booth at the Three Broomsticks and ordered two butter beers. Her Byronic colleague had yet to appear and she opened up a book. She nestled into the wooden backed chair and busied herself making small annotations and translations in the text. Every so often she would take a sip of her butter beer and look to the swinging door of the pub. Severus was yet to emerge. She sighed to herself and carried on with her reading, trying her best to focus on the words and symbols in front of her, yet she tapped her pen nervously on the page as her mind ticked over the coming conference. After half an hour, she looked up to see Severus swooping through the door. She had not heard him come in, but sighed impatiently at him as he took his seat opposite her.

"Is there a reason why we're meeting here, Severus?"

"The castle is too dangerous. Quirrell could be around any corner."

"Severus, he doesn't exactly have eyes in the back of his head..."

"All I'm saying is we must be cautious if-"

"Okay okay…" she sighed, interrupting him. She didn't feel like a Snape-lecture today. "Not that I've seen much of Quirrel at all this term."

"Hmmm." Severus nodded solemnly in agreement.

Neither of them had seen their suspect much in the past few months. It was like he knew that he was being closely watched by them both. He kept himself to himself, out of sight and out of mind: running hurriedly from classroom to classroom, eating silently by himself at meals, walking in the opposite direction when he saw Circe or Severus in the corridors. Yet Severus had stuck doggedly to his observations, narrowing his eyes and glowering at Quirrell every time he made eye contact. And Quirrell too, it seemed, had doubled down on his nervous-and-helpless act. So much so that Circe was beginning to doubt the allegations Severus had railed against him. Her observations of late had become a little more lax and her mind was now poisoned with ever increasing doubt.

"Severus…" she began, gently. "Are you sure we're not just harassing one of our colleagues?"

"What do you mean?" He asked, folding his arms.

"I mean… Are you sure about the information you found… That Varallo's still alive after going completely dead for ten plus years? That it's really Quirrell?"

"I am." He said pointedly.

She nodded, sighing to herself. "It's just… I expected him to have slipped up by now or put a foot out of place somewhere."

"You doubt me." He said, accusing her.

"No. But-"

"But what?

"But this is really dodgy, Severus!" She said a little too loud for his comfort. "I could lose my job over this if we're wrong and he complains. You've been here longer than me, you might survive it but with me it'll be 'last in, first out'. If you're so sure then why haven't you been to Dumbledore?"

"Because Dumbledore has a nasty habit of… giving people the benefit of the doubt." He whispered, checking her with the ferocity of his gaze. "We must have undeniable proof."

She looked worried. Downing her drink and placing the empty glass on the table, she fidgeted and looked around the room. Anywhere but back at Severus.

"Look…" Severus said, drawing her green eyes back to him. "Can I trust you to stay on him or not?"

She hesitated. Just for the briefest fraction of a second, but it was enough. "Ye-"

"Never mind." Severus rose to his feet, his chest feeling like it had been ripped to tatters, and went storming out of the pub without stopping to hear her.

Stupid, STUPID old man... He scolded himself. You can't trust anyone.

He did not stop or look back, even as he went barrelling past Hagrid at the pub's door.

"Blimey, Professor!" He said, stepping swiftly to the side to avoid crashing headlong into him.

When he got no response from Snape, he turned to the pub's interior, tutting to himself. He spotted Circe and meandered over to where she still sat with a worried expression on her face.

"Bloody rude git." He muttered to her. He was about to sit down where Snape had been when he spotted the untouched butter beer on the table. "Oh, you two weren't having some sort of a-"

"Oh goodness, no." Circe replied quickly, before he could finish. She blushed deeply.

He nodded and laughed heartily to himself.

"Shame. Woulda been good for Severus to have summit to get 'im out of the dungeons."

Circe forced a laugh too. "Is that why you're here too, Hagrid?" She asked, deflecting the topic away from her and Snape. "Meeting a nice lady-friend?"

"Oh Uhh-" Hagrid cleared his throat and looked around awkwardly. "No I…"

Circe watched Hagrid grow sheepish and shy. She knew enough of kids to know that when they behaved like this, they were trying to hide something. She raised a quizzical brow at Hagrid and smiled. "Oh now you simply must tell me." She said coquettishly, slamming her book shut and leaning forward. She placed her fist under her chin, listening like a child. Hagrid looked around the room, presumably to check no one was listening in on them. Excitement flashed in his eyes as he leaned close.

"I'm meetin' someone who says they've got somethin' I've been after for years."

"And what's that?"

"Oh now that I can't tell you…" he leaned back on his seat, fumbling for spare change in his pocket.

His eyes grew cold and distant again and Circe could tell she'd lose him soon if she didn't do something quick. She chewed her lip as she thought, watching Hagrid counting the pennies in his large meaty palm.

"I'll put ten galleons behind the bar for you and your friend if you tell me who you're meeting."

Hagrid's eyes bulged.

"I'm afraid I've been saving my pennies for this… uh… thing." He explained. "Quite expensive, y'see."

Circe didn't respond, just smiled invitingly at the giant and bided her time.

"Ahh alright, but there's not much t'tell really. Don't really know much about 'im. Met him in The Leaky Cauldron over Easter. Said 'e could get me a… what I wanted."

"Well knowing you it's something either for Harry or something dangerous."

Hagrid laughed. "Well it's not the first thing." He responded.

Circe wandered over to the bar and placed a few galleons on the counter for the giant, as per her promise. Just to sweeten the deal, she bought another round of butter beers and ferried them back to their table, pushing one to Hagrid.

"So what does this guy look like?" She asked.

Hagrid gulped down half of his pint in one and wiped his mouth. "Dunno. Never saw his face. Only told me the name I should ask for when I met 'im here. I'm a bit early, y'see."

"Oh, what's his name then?" She pushed.

"Erm… summit Italian sounding. Maxentius Varallo."

Circe's whole body went cold. She shot to her feet. "Hagrid, when is he meant to be getting here?" She asked desperately.

"Oh I dunno…" he looked at his watch. "Fifteen minutes or so?"

She rushed to the door, leaving Hagrid a tad confused at her sudden departure.

She ran out of the pub and through the streets of Hogsmeade. Perhaps if she was quick enough, she could catch up to Severus before he got back to the castle. However, she struggled to keep up a running pace in her black heeled boots. Plus, she'd not purposefully exercised in years… She passed the Shrieking Shack, panting heavily and almost rolling over on her ankles a fair few times, but still saw no sign of Severus.

How the bloody hell can he walk this fast?! She thought.

She crested a particularly nasty hill and there, almost at the walls of Hogwarts was Snape. A black smear on the green landscape.

"Severus!" She cried out as loud as she could. He did not turn.

"Severus!!" She shouted again, more desperately.

She saw him stop in his tracks, turning his head looking for the noise he'd heard on the wind.

"Oh for fuck sake, SEVER-"

She slipped on the wet grass and went tumbling down the side of the hill.

It was not a particularly bad fall, but it left her stunned and sprawling in the mud and dew. With the wind knocked out of her, and panting from her run, she remained on her back, staring at the sky like an upturned beetle. She'd landed in a coarse thicket of heather and tried in vain to free her coat and hair from the tangle of branches before collapsing back onto her back in exasperation. Then, wandering into her line of sight, on the crest of the hill she'd just fallen down, was Severus.

"Severus!" She called out again, and in an instant he had spotted her and was charging down the bank to her aid.

"What have you managed to do this time you clumsy dolt?" He snapped, as he waved his wand.

The branches of the heather bush snapped away from her. He grabbed her hand and pulled her to her feet. Her head spun slightly as she reeled, still slightly shocked by the fall. Her entire left side was covered in mud and grass stains and Severus tried to pull away from her as she grabbed his sleeve, smearing dirt onto him too.

"Severus…" she panted his name again. "Hagrid… is meeting… Maxentius Varallo… in the Three Broomsticks."

His eyes bulged. "What?! How do you… Well when?!" He stuttered.

"Now! Today!"

"And you left?!"

"To come and get you! To back me up…"

"Come on." He dragged her along with him, back towards Hogsmeade.

Severus almost kicked down the door to The Three Broomsticks. Circe cringed but followed him inside, close behind him.

"Hey!" Rosmurta shouted at them. "You'll be paying to fix that if you break it."

Severus didn't even look at her, instead scanning the interior of the pub for Varallo. Circe saw Hagrid before Snape did, and she pushed past him and confronted him.

"Hagrid, has Varallo been here?" She asked, unable to keep the desperation out of her voice.

"Bloody hell, Circe what 'appened to you?" Hagrid said, looking from her mud-smeared coat to her face. His eyes traveled over to Severus as he walked over to join Circe. "You been rolling about in the bushes after all…?" He asked cheekily.

"Hagrid, where's Maxentius Varallo?" She asked again.

"Gone. Left about three minutes ago…" Hagrid raised an unfamiliar new bag to his chest, cradling it protectively. "Why?"

"Fuck!" Severus shouted, turning from them in frustration. He strode out of the pub in pursuit, leaving Circe on her own.

"Did you see his face, Hagrid?"

"No, it was like last time. He kept 'is face hidden."

"Bugger…" she too turned away from Hagrid and rushed outside to follow Severus. Hagrid breathed a sigh of relief and quietly slipped away to tend to his new pet in the privacy of his hut…

"Severus, don't lose heart. He was here, you were right!"

"That was our chance!" He roared. "Why didn't you bloody stay put, you cretin?!"

She felt the vicious word's knife edge stab in to her chest. Circe knew he was frustrated, it radiated off him as he paced in the street, but still she couldn't help feeling hurt.

"Look.." she said, trying to calm him. "He's making mistakes. Meeting people in broad daylight in a place like Hogsmeade where he could run into people? Think about it, he's getting desperate."

"Why?"

Circe shrugged her shoulders. "But that means he'll make mistakes again."

Severus sighed deeply. "Soon? Before he gets what he's after?"

She had no reply. He turned to face her, almost imploring her for an answer she couldn't give. She set her face into a puzzled frown and breathed out slowly, the last of the adrenaline leaving her.

"We both stay on him." She said with fierce determination, purposefully using Snape's own words from earlier.

The tears in Severus's chest seemed to knit back together at seeing her newfound resolve. He felt a swell of pride as he beheld her: dirty, dishevelled, downtrodden, but burning with tenacity and commitment. He nodded back to her.

"Now, if you'll excuse me, I need to go and pick the heather out of my hair…"

-----

Circe was dreaming of bookshops and rain-soaked cities. Of browsing old record stores with someone who she kept handing over recommendations to. Someone who had a voice of velvet and honey and a presence as dense as thunderclouds. She had the taste of whiskey on her tongue and old folk songs in her ear. But when she turned to them, all she saw was a turban-headed figure, their back to her. The dream turned sour as the turban began to unravel and envelop Circe in a suffocating grip. She called out helplessly, no words rising in her throat. Her screams were silent as the purple silk crushed her, spinning in demonic tendrils from the figure in her nightmare.

She was torn from her dream as she heard hard, loud knocks on her bedroom door. Her heart was pounding out of her chest as she looked to the sturdy oak door. Still half-asleep, she thought she may have dreamt it. But when the knocks came again, louder and more urgent, she almost jumped out of her skin. She fumbled in the dark for her glasses on her bedside table and picked up her wand for good measure.

"Hello…?" She called out tentatively.

When no answer came, she encircled the door handle with her fingers and raised her wand. The lights outside flooded into her room as the door flew open and there, looking as pale as marble, was Severus. He looked haunted. Dark circles hung under his eyes and he appeared like he hadn't seen sleep in days.

"Severus?" She asked, lowering her wand. "What time is it?"

"There have been some developments…" his voice trailed off as his sight settled on her.

Circe cast her eyes down at her feet and realised what she'd gone to bed in: a pair of knickers and a loosely buttoned pyjama top. Her legs were completely bare, the pyjama bottoms cast to the floor as she got too hot at night. She blushed fiercely as she pulled the edges of her shirt around her.

"Th-there's been an incident in the forest tonight." He continued, trying to keep his eyes fixed on her face.

"Severus, are you alright?" She asked, looking into his wild and frightful eyes. "You look like you haven't slept for days."

"I…" his hand instinctively flew to his wrist, where the Dark Mark on his skin tingled.

Until that night, he'd believed it may be in his mind, that he was imagining the itch in the now faded ink. But now, it was undeniably there. Faint. But there…

"Come inside." She said, flinging the door open. When he did not move, she scoffed and grabbed his wrist, pulling him inside. The feel of her fingers on top of the Dark Mark was like aloe to a burn. "Go through to the conservatory, but try not to wake up Minerva."

"Minerva's up. She was called to look after the Potter boy and his friends as they're all Gryffindors. I just had to tuck the Malfoy boy back into his bed, he was shaking so badly..."

Severus walked on, like a man in a dream. A bad, nasty dream.

"Wait, why?" Circe asked, throwing a dressing gown around her as Severus sunk into a chair.

"You didn't tell me that Hagrid had a dragon's egg."

"He had a what?!" She asked, flabbergasted.

"A dragon egg. It's what he was buying from Varallo. Potter and company were caught by Malfoy visiting him and his new pet the other night."

"He didn't tell me." She cut in. "That day in the Three Broomsticks, he wouldn't tell me what he was getting."

"Just… listen!" He said, his temper flaring. "Out in the forest tonight, during their detention… Potter says he saw something..."

Circe sat down on the coffee table in front of him, watching him wringing his hands.

"Severus, when was the last time you had a good night's sleep?" She asked cautiously.

She knew full well that he'd renewed with vigour his surveillance efforts on Quirrell since their conversation on the Hogsmeade streets. She too had been keeping tabs on the Professor, using her small legion of Ancient Studies students to report back to her on wherever he was in the school. Percy Weasley really was a sucker for house points... It had been unofficially agreed between them that the nighttime was Severus's domain. And guessing on the lateness of the hour and the realisation that Severus would never be knocking on her door if it weren't to do with their secret mission, it must be something pertaining to Quirrell.

"What did Harry see?" She asked again.

"I've had tabs on him all week…" Severus muttered to himself.

"Severus!?" She asked again, rather more forcefully. He noticeably flinched and looked up at her, shaken from his brooding trance. She opened her hands, as if to say 'well?'.

"Something… someone in the forest. Drinking blood from a unicorn."

Circe gasped and covered her mouth. It was almost sacrilegious to kill an animal like that.

"Good God…" she breathed. "It's a wonder he wasn't killed."

"The centaurs are up in arms. And they tell us that maimed and injured unicorns have been turning up ever since the New Year. But this… this is the last straw."

Severus rose out of his chair and began pacing up and down the conservatory.

"But why would Quirrell be killing unicorns?" She asked as she watched him nervously fidgeting.

"Think, Circe!" He said sharply, turning suddenly back to her. "If you'd spent the whole year trying to find the Stone, but so far had been thwarted, what might you turn to?"

"But… but why? Quirrell's not dying. Why would he want unicorn blood to revive him? It doesn't make sense…"

Maybe it's not for him. Severus thought to himself as a chill went up his spine.

Almost on cue, he felt his Dark Mark twinge again. Severus rubbed his eyelids and sighed deeply. He looked like he was about to collapse.

"I'm guessing that Quirrell slipped out of your observation tonight." Circe said gently.

"Every night this week I've had my eye on him!" He complained to her. "And tonight, somehow, he slips past me…"

"Every night? It's probably because you're exhausted, Severus. We should have divided up the night time observations equally. Look at you, you're manic!"

She rose to her feet too, approaching him slowly. Severus was too tired to argue back. Or to even acknowledge the pang of care in her words to him. He looked up at the stars, through the glass roof and into the darkness, utterly lost in his own thoughts. Circe saw the turmoil in his mind and laid a gentle hand on his shoulder. She felt his muscles tense up beneath her touch as she did so and his head snapped back to the earth from the heavens above.

"Where was he last thing today?" He said after a quiet few moments.

"The last thing I heard, he was in the Library with his Sixth Years."

"Then I shall go there. See what I can find."

"No, Severus, you're going to bed."

"Don't be ridiculous. The trail will go cold by morning and he'll have time to cover his tracks..."

"Look, what realistically can we do tonight. What can he do tonight? It must be almost dawn anyway…"

Severus paused and considered her reasoning. The lack of sleep and the bad tidings had him feeling vulnerable and oddly emotional. How he wished he could lie down in the greenery of this conservatory with Circe and drift off peacefully whilst she stroked his hair. It was the fantasy of a half-deranged, neurotic man. His stomach churned as he acknowledged the thought and he pushed it away, deep down into his gut.

"No! I have to… There must be-"

"Oh, you stubborn old git. Alright, then I'm coming with you."

Severus did not have time to argue with her before she turned from the conservatory and started the walk to the Library.

They both patrolled the halls, wands out, casting the Lumos spell to illuminate the way. Circe shivered and drew her dressing gown tighter around her. Severus cast a beady eye over her, spotting her bare feet on the cold flagstones and furrowed his brow.

"You could have at least put some shoes on."

"You wouldn't have waited."

He growled, conceding that she was probably right. They entered the library, peeling apart the huge doors and slipping silently inside. The shelves of old books stood cloaked in darkness, uniformly stacked away by the Librarian. In the half-light of the rapidly approaching dawn the shelves stood like ominous giant tombstones in the indigo light. It was yet another place in Hogwarts that felt unsettling when not busy with students. The smell of the old leather and parchment, normally heaven to a Ravenclaw like Circe, did little to comfort either of them.

"Where do we start?" She asked Severus.

"The Librarian keeps an enchanted ledger that records down each book that has been checked out by a student... or staff member."

They silently paced the halls of desks and reading tables, hurrying over to the Librarian's station. Severus looked around conspicuously as he opened a draw and began rifling through it. As he searched, Circe hopped from one foot to another, wiggling her toes to try and stave off the cold. Eventually, he pulled out a weighty, thick tome and slammed it onto the desk.

"Severus! Shhhh!" Circe chided.

"I'm not a child sneaking around after bedtime." He shot back. "When a student runs through the darkness, they're running from me."

Circe snorted and rolled her eyes. "Alright, Dirty Harry."

"Who?"

"Never mind…"

Severus thumbed through the pages until he got to the most recent entries. He ran his finger down through the list of names and books. After a while he growled and slammed the book closed.

"Nothing from Quirrell." He spat. "Not for the whole week."

Circe walked over to the record book and opened it back up, starting to scan the pages herself. She sighed too, seeing a noticeable absence in Quirrell's name. She absentmindedly turned the pages back, looking at entries from earlier in the year. There, in March, was Quirrell's name next to ' Le Livre de Philosophique'. She flicked back, and there it was again in February, same book. Any time Quirrell's name appeared in the ledger, it was next to this book. Once Severus had calmed down, he saw Circe flicking through the pages and muttering to herself as she spied each entry under Quirrell's name.

"He's checked out the same book seven times at least." Severus said, peering over her shoulder at her discoveries.

"With the most recent time being two weeks ago."

"But what book is that?" He asked.

"It's Nicholas Flamel's book." She answered simply. "All his findings on the Philosopher's Stone and the magical properties it harvests."

Severus stood up straight, processing the information. "Well, it's damning, but we already suspected Quirrell was after it. It doesn't help us much."

"No, but…" Circe paused, turning back to the most recent of entries.

"But what?" He asked, intrigued by the new puzzled look that had bloomed on her face.

"But the last person to check the book out today wasn't Quirrell."

"What?"

"Mmmm. And for the life of me, I can't think of any reason why they'd even pick this literature up… at their age."

"Who?" Severus asked, on bated breath. When Circe looked up to meet his eyes, she was a picture of bewilderment.

"Hermione Granger."