Chapter XII: The Shrieking Shack

The dungeons were the very first destination Morgaine thought of as she left the Headmistress’ office. Where else should she go? The dungeons had always been a place of security for her. Even in her darkest of hours, the dungeon walls had provided comfort. Severus would certainly be there, in his old study, as he always was. Because those rooms were his haven, too. Morgaine now longed to go to him and beg him for forgiveness, on her bare knees if need be. It seemed the right thing to do, the only thing to do. Surely, Severus would listen to her and understand. Eventually.

She had already arrived at the top of the stairs that led to the dungeons when she stopped dead in her tracks. Suddenly, her courage and determination was failing her. She was sure that Severus would understand why she had kept silent about Demeter during the war. He would understand that she had not had any choice, that she had kept silent to protect her child, their child, him and herself. But how could he forgive her for not telling him when she had returned to Hogwarts? Why would he forgive her?

Morgaine grabbed onto the cold stone wall for support. She had felt Severus’ presence in Minerva’s office the moment she had stepped over the threshold. The same moment she had realised that she had walked right into a trap. She had meant to sit Severus down after the Heads of House meeting and tell him everything. She had planned it carefully and had been prepared to accept his reaction whatever it might have been. But it seemed that Minerva – and Dumbledore, for sure – had decided to beat her to it.

How had Minerva managed to make Severus attend the meeting of the Heads, Morgaine wondered. It had certainly not been his idea to remain in the Headmistress’ office after the staff meeting. Most probably it had not been Minerva’s idea either. Taking both herself and Severus unawares and confronting them with a fait accompli was a deceitful act worthy of Albus Dumbledore. Once more he had decided that he knew best and had now deprived Morgaine of her chance to explain herself. And he had given Severus the shock of his life. And his afterlife.

As so often when it came to her great-grandfather, Morgaine felt bitterness creep into her heart, but today she did not have the energy to fight it. Her mind was solely on Severus. He had been looking at her the whole time, but she had not dared look up. And when Minerva had read Demeter’s name, she had applied every scrap of Occlumency she knew to shield herself from Severus’ emotions. But she had failed. His surprise had been too big not to affect her, his shock too deep and his anger too fierce. And had she looked up and seen the disappointment in his eyes, she would have broken down. Severus deserved better than this.

Now Morgaine was staring blankly down into the darkness of the dungeons. There was no point on descending those stairs. Severus would not want to talk to her now, she was certain of that. And she could understand him. She would not want to talk to a cowardly liar either if she were him. It wasn’t easy, but still she turned away.

She arrived in her quarters before she had even realised where she was going, and her hand picked up the box of Floopowder without her really noticing. She called out her destination, and moments later she stood in her grandmother’s kitchen.

When Morgaine finally realised what she was doing, she regretted her move at once. How would she explain her sudden appearance in Iceland? What else had she to say than that her secret had been uncovered? Was she even ready to tell anyone? But thankfully, Morgaine found the small kitchen deserted. Neither her grandmother nor her daughter was anywhere to be seen. She would be able to return to Hogwarts without having to speak to anyone. Hurriedly, she picked up a quill and left just one simple message on the kitchen table: He knows.

Back in her quarters at Hogwarts mere moments later, Morgaine unlocked a small casket in the back of her bookshelf and retrieved two of the three small glass phials that were lying there, safely hidden away from anyone but her. The third phial, she did not have the courage to take with her. She did not even consider that leaving it behind was a far braver choice.

No one saw her leave the castle, Morgaine was certain of that. The weather was so ghastly that not even Hagrid was outdoors, and it was snowing so heavily that no one would see her from the castle windows. Her tracks would be covered with snow before she had reached the gates from where she planned to Disapparate. Using the tunnel that started under the Whomping Willow never crossed Morgaine’s mind. It had probably caved in years ago anyway.

The odour of mould and wet wood assaulted her nose and she coughed, wondering if anyone had entered the Shrieking Shack since ... since she had gone there to retrieve Severus’ body. Probably not. Why would anyone? No one had any business in the Shack, and it was still considered haunted. And as far as Morgaine was concerned, the rumours were true. Her ghosts had never left the Shack. But today she was going to cast them out.

‘Lumos.’

She had to say the incantation twice before the tip of her wand ignited. But when the soft light filled the room, Morgaine wished she had failed in casting the spell entirely. She did not like what she saw, and her mind filled with memories that had haunted her nights for far too many years: The puddle Severus had been lying in had been deep crimson, she remembered it well. The blood had still been wet when she had arrived, and it had taken her days to get it off her hands. Her stained robes, she had simply incinerated.

The puddle was gone now of course. The blood had seeped into the wooden floor, and all that was left now was a dark spot. Still, it terrified Morgaine, and the unfairness disgusted her. Severus Snape had deserved to die a hero’s death. Instead he had been attacked from behind and had miserably bled to death.

Morgaine placed the two phials on the dark spot in front of her. Harry had given her those two memories years ago. He had deemed it appropriate for her to see them. At first, she had refused to look at them. And when she had finally brought up the courage, the images had made her stomach turn. She had spent hours locked in her room that day, looking at those memories over and over again until they had been etched into her very mind. Nowadays she didn’t even need a Pensieve to see them clearly in front of her.

She uncorked the first phial and let the silvery blue-mist rise:

‘Severus ...’

Morgaine heard Dumbledore’s voice as clearly as if he were standing right in front of her, and she felt a lump form in her throat. But she did not feel sorry for her great-grandfather, who had slumped against the ramparts of the Astronomy Tower. What made her heart ache was the look on Severus’ face. Hatred and revulsion was all she could see.

‘Severus ... please ...’

She saw Severus raise his wand and point it directly at Dumbledore. And as he cast the spell that sent the old man to his death and himself straight to hell, Morgaine’s eyes filled with tears. What had the old man made Severus do?

She blinked fiercely, but as her vision cleared, the silvery-blue mist had already disappeared into thin air.

With shaking hands, she uncorked the second phial.

‘It cannot be any other way. I must master the wand, Severus.’

Had Severus known that he was about to die, Morgaine wondered. Had he known all along that he would not survive the war?

They had never said goodbye that night of the Final Battle. But Morgaine could still feel Severus’ last kiss on her lips. He had never kissed her so tenderly, and she had never loved him that much. The memory of their final moments hurt as no other. They had wasted so much time.

‘I regret it.’

The cold tone of Voldemort’s voice was the only thing that kept Morgaine from shedding the tears that were still burning in her eyes. Instead her eyes narrowed, and her hands started to shake with anger.

‘You took everything from me,’ she hissed, not sure which of her ghosts she was addressing.

With a bang, both phials exploded, and Morgaine sank to her knees, dropping her wand and cutting her left hand. And as her wand landed among the shattered glass, the spell was broken, and darkness filled the room once more.

~ ~ ~
She couldn’t be far, Severus concluded as he looked around Morgaine’s quarters. Her teaching materials lay neatly stacked on her desk, quill and parchment lay right beside them. The candles were extinguished, but the fire in the grate was still burning. Her teaching robes were hanging on their usual hook on the wall, but the one beside it was empty.

She has taken her cloak, Severus thought. She has left the castle then.

He should inform his colleagues that there was no need to look for Morgaine indoors, but Severus felt unable to leave the room. He told himself that maybe Morgaine did not want to be found. He knew that feeling only too well himself as he had felt it himself uncountable times during his life.

But Severus’ true reason for lingering in Morgaine’s quarters was another. He wanted to ... find something, anything. A picture, a letter, any proof that the child, Demeter, his daughter existed. But there was nothing.

What drove a mother to hide any image of her child, Severus wondered. There should at least be a picture on the nightstand. It seemed natural. And the fact that Morgaine did not seem to have anything that reminded her of her daughter made Severus realise how difficult the whole situation must be for her.

He was just about to leave when the crackling of the fire and a light voice made him freeze.

‘Mother? Mother, are you there?’

Severus retreated into the shadows, out of sight for anyone who was using the Floo. He himself, however, had a clear view of the face that had appeared in the fire.

It was like looking at a younger, happier version of himself. The girl had raven-black hair, which framed her pale face like a pair of velvet curtains. Her skin was as pale as his had once been, but her cheeks were slightly flushed. Judging from the scarf around her slim neck, the girl had been outside in the cold.

‘Mother?’

‘Your mother would have answered already if she were there, Demeter.’

Severus recognised Margaret’s voice at once. He had only met Morgaine’s grandmother once, many years ago, but her voice was so kind, he doubted he would ever forget it.

Demeter’s face fell. ‘Looks like we keep missing each other today,’ she said in a disappointed tone. ‘May I call her again later? Can I, please?’

‘We will see, child.’

Once more the girl looked around the room in front of her. Her eyes were as blue as Morgaine’s, Severus noticed. Blue like the spring sky, curious and kind.

Eventually the flames faded and so did Demeter’s face. Severus, however, stood as mesmerised. That was his daughter then? His and Morgaine’s? He had not even considered the possibility that the girl would look anything like him. But she looked exactly like him. The poor thing had even inherited his nose. But she had her mother’s eyes. Even in the fire, he had seen the flame of joy flickering in them.

Whenever had the flame in Morgaine’s eyes been extinguished, Severus wondered. The day he had died? Or much earlier, maybe? Maybe the day she had been forced to choose between her child and the man she loved?

Suddenly, it did not matter anymore that Morgaine had not told him about Demeter. When she was ready, she would tell him her reasons, Severus was certain of that. The only thing he wanted to do at that very moment was tell Morgaine how much he loved her, how much she had always meant to him, and that there was no reason for her to carry her burdens alone. He would be there for her, whenever she needed him. But he had still no idea about where she was.

Minerva was uncharacteristically flustered as Severus met her in the Entrance Hall. The castle had been searched from the dungeons to the Astronomy Tower, but no one had seen Morgaine.

‘You don’t think she would do something stupid, don’t you, Severus?’

Severus frowned. No, he did not think so. After a first wave of panic he was now certain that Morgaine had simply retreated to a quiet and secluded place in order to gather her thoughts. But before he could tell Minerva, they were approached by the Grey Lady.

‘I found her,’ she announced. ‘Morgaine is in the Shrieking Shack.’

‘The Shrieking Shack?’ Minerva repeated. ‘Whatever is she doing there?’

The Grey Lady just smiled sadly. ‘Morgaine has spent many nights there since she returned to Hogwarts. The Shack calls for her at night when she cannot sleep. Like a ghost she haunts the place where part of her died. I’m not even sure she knows why she goes there. But if she doesn’t leave soon, she will lose herself in there.’ The she turned towards Severus. ‘Go get her. You’re the only one who can.’

~ ~ ~
Severus hovered in the cold outside the rumbling building. He had left the Shrieking Shack in Morgaine’s wake the morning after his death. He had watched her lay his body to rest and then followed her to the castle. And never once had he even thought about returning.

He hated that place, always had. Ever since the night he had had the glorious idea to follow Lupin through the tunnel that started under the Whomping Willow. The werewolf had almost torn him to pieces that night. Had Potter not developed a sense of conscience that night, Severus would have died in the Shack that night. But he had escaped death, just to return two decades later to meet death in form of a gigantic snake in an enchanted cage.

He remembered the smell of the place, wet wood, tar and mould. He remembered that the stairs creaked, and that the floorboard right at the top of the stairs was loose. He was sure that the smell of decay was even more present now, and that the stairs were a hazard to walk on. But none of that mattered to him now. He was a ghost. His nose did not detect any odours, and his feet did not touch the floor as he moved forwards.

The door at the top of the stairs stood open, and Severus floated silently through it. The room was dark, but he did not need any light to make out the cowering figure in the middle of the room. Morgaine was on her knees, head bent and her black cloak tightly wrapped around her. As Severus approached, he thought for a moment that a silvery-blue mist was hanging in the room. But it disappeared so fast that he couldn’t be sure if he had really seen it.

‘What are you doing here, Morgaine?’ he asked.

Although she could not have heard him enter the room, Morgaine did not flinch at the sound of his voice. ‘I’m chasing shattered dreams and dusty memories,’ she whispered.

Severus stayed behind her. Despite Morgaine keeping her voice low, he had heard that it was shaking and he wondered if she had been crying. In case she had been, he would give her a chance to dry her tears. He knew how much she hated it when he saw her cry.

He heard her draw a shaky breath and saw the fingers of her left hand trace the outline of the dark spot on the floor. He had died on that very spot, Severus thought. It had been his own blood that had darkened the wood. Why, for the love of Merlin, had Morgaine chosen this place to hide?

‘I never meant to hurt you, Severus.’

The scene that unfolded before Severus was all but too familiar. After he had died, Morgaine had been on her knees beside his cold body, her face buried at his blood-covered chest and her shoulders shaking with her desperate sobs. And he had been unable to console her, unable to touch her or to tell her that she was not alone. At least this time, he could talk to her.

‘I know, my love,’ he whispered. ‘I know.’

She had not hurt him. Of course, he would have preferred if she had been the one to tell him about their child and not Minerva. But who could blame her, really? She had been forced into that lie many years ago by a man more cunning than any Slytherin had ever been. And she had played along to protect her child.

Severus floated around Morgaine and knelt down beside of her, careful to keep his distance. In the state she was in, he did not know how she would react if he touched her. But he wanted her to know that he was there, right by her side.

‘Look at me, Morgaine.’

Her eyes were so red and swollen that Severus wondered if she had been crying all day. Stupid girl. She had taken her pain, hidden it away and suffered in silence because she was too stubborn and too proud to ask for help. Just like Severus himself had been for so many years. What a waste.

‘I didn’t mean for you to find out in such a way, Severus,’ Morgaine suddenly said, and a pair of red-rimmed blue eyes locked on to a pair that had once been dark and unfathomable as the Black Lake.

‘Are you telling me you actually meant for me to find out?

The sarcastic tone in his voice and his smirk evoked the exact tiny smile Severus had hoped to see on Morgaine’s lips. But it died away far too quickly. And as she turned her face away, and Severus’ eyes followed her, he caught sight of her wand lying among broken glass. But at the moment he did not even consider asking Morgaine what had happened. He was as lost for words as she seemed to be.

Had he spoken to her right after the staff meeting, he would probably have raged and yelled. Had he spoken to her after Dumbledore’s confession, the sound of his voice would probably have betrayed his disappointment. But now Severus did not know what to say. All the feelings he had worked through over the afternoon were still there, screaming in his mind and wanting to come out. But he did not know how to express himself, and hence he didn’t allow himself to feel any of those emotions.

‘She was looking for you earlier,’ he said after a while. ‘Demeter.’ Sooner or later, the topic of their daughter needed to be addressed. He could just as well be the one to do it.

‘You met her?’ Morgaine sounded surprised.

‘She used the Floo as I was looking for you in your quarters,’ Severus explained. ‘She did not see me.’

Morgaine nodded silently. Her eyes were searching Severus’ pale face, and he knew that she was hoping for him to speak.

‘She is a beautiful child. She reminded me of you when you were about her age,’ he said. ‘She has the same look in her eyes, the same smile ...’

‘Demeter has inherited far too much from me.’

Severus frowned at the bitter tone in Morgaine’s voice, but he deemed in wiser not to follow it up. Hopefully Morgaine would let him in on all her secrets in due time.

One last time he looked at the broken glass on the floor. In due time, she would hopefully tell him about that, too.

He got up and reached out his pale hand towards Morgaine. He knew that she could not take it, but the symbolic gesture made her get up from the floor.

‘Come back to the castle with me, Morgaine,’ he said firmly. ‘I want you to come to the dungeons.’