Chapter XI: Placing the Blame

Severus sought refuge in the bright sunlight which turned him almost invisible. None of the Heads had looked in his direction when they had entered the Headmistress’ office, and when Minerva had read the name of Morgaine’s daughter, they had all turned towards her. For as much as Severus knew, no one had noticed that he was present. The only eyes he felt on him were those of Albus Dumbledore, but he refused to turn around and face the old Headmaster. He had to get his thoughts together first.

Dylan, Helena. Elliott, Samuel. Emerson, Alvin.

Minerva had resumed presenting the names of the next first-years, but their names and the information about them was completely lost to Severus. She could have read Riddle, Tom Junior, megalomaniac and mass murderer in the making; Severus would probably not have reacted. His eyes were still on Morgaine, and his brain was working feverishly.

A child. Morgaine had a daughter. A daughter that was either already eleven years old or would turn eleven before the first of September. That meant that she must have been born ... When? Ten years back in time at least, or eleven. Almost twelve, maybe. When? By Merlin, when? Severus found it impossible to concentrate. Whenever had mathematics become so hard?

Severus started to wonder if Morgaine knew he was present. She had seemed preoccupied when she had entered the office, and when she had taken her seat, she had lowered her eyes immediately and not once looked up. Had she seen him? She must have felt his presence at least. She must have felt him looking at her. She always did. But when he carefully extended his mind towards hers, he found it firmly closed. Whether it was against him or just anyone, he did not know, but Morgaine’s mental walls were fortified. Tall and imposing they stood, shimmering like dark granite in the sunlight, protecting her mind as well as her heart, and Severus retreated. He held too much respect for her to enter her mind by force.

Instead, he went back to calculating. Morgaine had returned to Hogwarts the same year Harry Potter had been a first-year. She could not have been pregnant then, Severus concluded. It wouldn’t add up. Or would it? He had to fight to keep himself from huffing in frustration. All of a sudden, he found that he wasn’t even sure what year it was.

He had been teaching Potter for one term, and then Morgaine had transferred to Durmstrang shortly after New Year’s, at the end of January. Surely, she would not have got involved with some of Karkaroff’s staff, would she? The mere thought seemed absurd, and Severus dismissed it quickly. After all, Morgaine had told him after the New Year’s ball at Malfoy Manor that the only man she wanted to be with was ... him.

By the Furies and Hades’ three-headed dog! Severus’ ghostly eyes grew wider as the thought started to take form in his mind. He and Morgaine had shared a passionate night at the Leaky Cauldron that first of January, given in to the lust they had denied each other for too many months. But surely, they must have used some kind of contraceptive. A spell, a potion, anything. The rational part of Severus’ brain struggled to remember, but the whole night was somewhat hazy. He had emptied almost half a bottle of Firewhisky that evening out of anger and out of fear that Morgaine might have preferred Lucius Malfoy over him. And when she had returned to the pub, when she had come to his room ... Surely she must have used something. Morgaine had always been a clever girl, and she had been sober that night. She simply must have! But then again, had she even had a chance to take a potion or to cast a spell? He had more or less ripped the dress from her body that night and taken her roughly against the wall. He had taken her, and she had let him. Neither of them had had a single thought about contraception that night. There was a considerably large chance that the child Minerva had been talking about, Morgaine’s child, was ... his!

If physically possible, Severus’ knees would have gone weak at the thought. His eyes darted first to Minerva, who was still reading from that blasted list, then to Morgaine, who was still staring at her hands in her lap. When his eyes met the eyes of Albus Dumbledore and the old Headmaster nodded almost imperceptively, Severus turned a whiter shade of pale. There was no doubt. The child was his! And Dumbledore knew!

The last name Severus heard Minerva read from the list was Green, Sarah, but he did not care. As far as he knew, no one except Dumbledore and Minerva was aware of his presence, and even if someone else had seen him, he wasn’t answerable to anyone. He dematerialised and left the Headmistress’ office for the dungeons.

~ ~ ~
His old study provided less comfort than Severus had hoped for. None at all, to be honest. And drifting weightlessly from one end of the room to the other was considerably less satisfying than pacing. Not even levitating phials from the shelf and letting them crash to the floor did anything to ease his tension.

A daughter. An eleven-year-old child about whom Morgaine had never said a word. His child! Or maybe not his after all? Was that why Morgaine had never said anything? But it must be his child. Why else would Dumbledore have looked at him like that? Why else would Minerva have insisted on him attending the staff meeting and hence hearing the child’s name? But why had Morgaine not said anything?

Severus Snape’s otherwise organised brain was in chaos. He was barely capable of finishing one thought before another one – a completely different one – took form. One second he was convinced that he must be the child’s father. The next second, he caught himself considering insane ideas like Morgaine having fallen for Lucius Malfoy’s charms that New Year’s night and ... Merlin forbid!

Nothing made sense at the moment, not in the least. Why? Why had Morgaine kept this secret from him?

When there was a knock on the door, Severus pretended that he was not there. He even dematerialised in case someone had the audacity to open the door and look inside. But whoever was standing on the other side of the door just knocked once more, and then left without having received an answer.

‘It is rude not to open the door to your friends, Severus.’

Severus resumed his ghostly shape and shot the portrait of Albus Dumbledore an icy look before he resumed drifting. ‘I doubt Minerva will be offended,’ he snapped.

‘Why do you assume it was Minerva?’ Dumbledore asked in a calm voice.

‘She is the only one who insists on knocking.’

‘Morgaine knocks,’ Dumbledore pointed out.

Severus spun around, and the look he gave Dumbledore now that could have made the paint dissolve from the canvas. ‘Morgaine has not deemed it necessary to come clean for four and a half months,’ he flared up. ‘Why would she come and talk to me now?’

Dumbledore sighed and settled onto the elaborately crafted chair that stood in the portrait he had chosen to appear in. ‘I am afraid this was not Morgaine’s choice, Severus.’

Not Morgaine’s choice? Severus continued glaring menacingly at Dumbledore. Whereas his anger had been aimed at Morgaine’s silence only seconds ago, it was now openly directed at Albus Dumbledore. ‘What did you do, old man?’ he snarled.

Dumbledore, however, did not seem to feel the least threatened by Severus’ harsh tone or glare. ‘I did what was necessary, Severus. ’

‘Necessary?’ Severus’ ghostly eyes flashed dangerously. ‘Elucidate, Dumbledore. I beg you,’ he added in a tone that was dripping with revulsion.

‘Isn’t it quite clear, Severus?’ Still, Dumbledore was annoyingly calm. ‘There have always been Dark forces that tried to win over Morgaine to their side. Demeter could have been used as a lever. The fewer people who knew about her the better.’

‘Why was I kept in the dark?’ Severus demanded to know. ‘Could I not be trusted? Did you consider me a liability?’

Dumbledore fixed the ghost in front of him with his blue eyes. ‘You already had a child to protect, Severus. I needed you to protect Harry Potter. And I needed Morgaine to stand by your side.’

‘You made Morgaine hide and lie about her child to help me protect another?’ Dumbledore had done many ruthless things in his lifetime, but this made Severus’ bile rise. ‘Do you even realise how cruel an act that was, Dumbledore? How could you ask a thing like that of a young mother? Your own kin. A girl who looked up to you and trusted you.’

For the first time during their conversation, Dumbledore looked stricken. ‘Morgaine stopped trusting me many years ago.’ His voice sounded frail, and there was a distinct note of regret.

But Severus had no sympathy at the moment. ‘I seriously hope that this does not surprise you in any way, Dumbledore.’ His own voice had risen to the volume of thunder, but he did not care if every inhabitant of the castle heard him. He had kept silent for too many years. ‘You used her!’

‘I made Morgaine swear that she would not tell you,’ Dumbledore confessed. ‘She couldn’t tell you. It was too dangerous, for you, for her and for the child.’

‘Who gave you the right to decide that?’ Severus snapped. ‘Who?’

‘It was the right decision, Severus,’ Dumbledore simply stated. ‘There are things you do not know anything about.’

‘Like me having an eleven year-old daughter, you mean?’ Severus was beside himself with rage. ‘I demand to know the truth now, Dumbledore. The whole truth.’

‘I received a letter from Morgaine towards the end of her first term at Durmstrang,’ Dumbledore began. ‘She begged me to take her away. It was too dark a place for her, and she claimed to be ill. And indeed she looked dreadful when I went to see her, pale and worn. But Igor would not let her go. She was the best Potions Mistress he had ever had, he said.’ He smiled kindly. ‘I think the credit for that goes to you, dear boy.’

‘Don’t digress,’ Severus hissed.

‘There was nothing I could do until the end of term. Igor insisted on her staying, and he had the Ministry on his side. But I managed to bring Morgaine to Iceland for the summer, after having convinced Igor that the change of climate would do her good. That was when I learnt that she was with child.’

Suddenly, Severus felt a stab of pity. Morgaine had been all alone in a ghastly place like Durmstrang. ‘How far along was she?’ he asked in a somewhat softer tone.

Dumbledore raised an eyebrow and smiled. ‘Shouldn’t you know that better than I, Severus?’ But Severus shot him a look that made the smile freeze on his lips. ‘The child was born at the beginning of October. I could, of course, not let Morgaine return to Durmstrang in September. Firstly, Durmstrang is not a suitable place for an expectant mother. Secondly, I deemed it unwise for anyone to know about the child.’

‘What did you tell Karkaroff?’ Severus asked.

‘The truth. Well, part of it. I told him Morgaine would not return due to her poor health.’

‘And he bought that?’

‘Igor wasn’t blind. He, too, had seen that Morgaine was unwell. He would not risk her health. And neither would Lucius, of course.’

The sound of Lucius’ name made Severus sneer. ‘Why Durmstrang, Dumbledore? Why did Lucius send Morgaine there of all places?’

‘Do you really not know, Severus?’ Dumbledore asked calmly. ‘Or do you not want to know?

Severus frowned. He had his suspicions. But quite frankly, he didn’t want them to be confirmed.

‘Lucius always knew about Morgaine’s past, Severus. He knew her mother, and he knew that Morgaine was born into the fold of Darkness. I was not even surprised when I learnt that the idea of letting a Death Eater breed with my granddaughter had sprung from his power-hungry mind.’

Severus flinched at Dumbledore’s choice of words. He knew that Morgaine’s mother had fallen in love with a Death Eater. He also knew that Morgaine’s mother had not been allowed to leave the fold after her lover had died. None of this was new to him, but still he didn’t like any of it.

‘Morgaine’s mother fleeing with her child and hiding her thwarted Lucius’ plan. Once he realised that Morgaine had returned to the Wizarding world, he wanted to keep an eye on her and make sure she did not escape his grip once more. He also wanted to make sure that she did not forget her heritage. Hence, he sent her to the one place where he was certain that the Dark Arts had not been forgotten.’ Dumbledore nodded appreciatively. ‘He has always been a cunning man, dear Lucius. He knew the Dark Lord would return one day, and he wanted to make sure that he could present him with a welcome gift. So he sent Morgaine to Durmstrang, hoping she would fall for the Dark Arts.’

She might be useful one day, Lucius had said that New Year’s night, Severus remembered. And he had congratulated him on bedding the great-granddaughter of Albus Dumbledore. If Lucius really had had those plans Dumbledore was talking about, he would certainly have seen Severus as a competition. Yet another reason to send Morgaine far away.

‘Fortunately, Morgaine had already chosen the Light and was too strong to be tempted by the Dark,’ Dumbledore continued. ‘But you and I both know that Lucius doesn’t take defeat lightly. I knew that he would keep trying. I also knew that Morgaine could take care of herself and that you would help her to keep her footing. The child, however ...’

‘Are you telling me you kept that child hidden in order to protect her from Lucius?’ Severus almost laughed. Trust Dumbledore to turn his deceit into a noble gesture.

‘From Lucius, from Voldemort, from the Dark.’ Dumbledore made a sweeping gesture with his hand. ‘I knew Voldemort would return one day. I also knew that Morgaine would have to face him sooner or later and that she would have to make a choice.’

‘Did you not trust her to make the right choice?’ Severus interrupted, his anger flaring up once more. Then he shook his head. ‘People have doubted your sanity for many years, Dumbledore, but this ...’

‘As I have already told you, Severus, I feared the child could have been used as lever. What do you think Morgaine would have chosen if asked to join Voldemort or see her child get harmed?’

‘She would have protected her child, of course,’ Severus concluded. ‘Any mother would.’

Dumbledore nodded, and for some moments, silence settled over the room.

Severus once more took to drifting from one wall to the other. Still his mind was racing. When he came to a halt and lifted his eyes towards the portrait, he found Dumbledore looking at him.

‘You could have let me know, Dumbledore. Morgaine could have told me.’

Dumbledore slowly shook his head. ‘Tell me, Severus,’ he started, ‘what would you have done had you known that Morgaine had a daughter? Would you have done anything for her? Would you have protected her?’

Severus answered at once. There were no doubts. ‘With my very life.’

This time, Dumbledore nodded. ‘And that is exactly why Morgaine was not allowed to tell you.’

Severus narrowed his eyes. What Dumbledore had said so far made perfect sense. Of course Morgaine would have protected her daughter. And if Dumbledore had advised her to tell no one about the child, she would have kept silent because she trusted her great-grandfather.

But the war was over. And still, she had not said a word.

Once more, Severus felt anger bubbling in his chest. Had he still had a body made up by flesh and blood, his hands would have been shaking due to all the emotions that were welling up in him. He had the urge to scream and smash things. But he would not lose his composure with Dumbledore still in the room.

‘Get out,’ he growled instead.

Dumbledore frowned and gave his old Potions master a puzzled look, but Severus turned his back on the portrait.

‘Get out, Dumbledore!’ he repeated, staring blankly into nothingness. ‘Unless you want to find out if Avada Kedavra can kill portraits, I suggest you leave now.’

~ ~ ~
Severus did not even have the mental strength to smash phials. There were too many thoughts on his mind and too many emotions racing through his heart.

Why had Morgaine not said anything? She had been back at Hogwarts for almost five months, and Severus had thought that they had once more grown close, that the bond they shared now was stronger than ever before. And still Morgaine had kept a secret. From him.

Why? Why?

The hours passed, and Severus cast himself from one theory to the next, one crazier than the other. At one point, he even suspected Dumbledore of having made his own great-granddaughter take the Unbreakable Vow. But that was mad, of course, even by Dumbledore’s standards, just as mad as the idea of the child being Lucius’. One by one, Severus dismissed those crazy ideas, getting more and more desperate to know Morgaine’s reasons for keeping silent.

A couple of times, he found himself drifting towards the door, but he never passed through it. He would not go to find Morgaine and make her talk. He would not beg her to tell him the truth. She had so far been the one to decide to keep quiet. If she wanted to come clean now, she would have to come to him. And he was sure that she would come, sooner or later.

When there was a knock on his door, Severus opened immediately, hoping her would get some answers now. But it wasn’t Morgaine. It was Minerva.

Severus fixed her with an icy stare. ‘You set me up, Headmistress,’ he snarled and considered slamming the door into her face. If Minerva did not come up with a good explanation now, he would not be held responsible for anything.

‘I hoped that it would help you two along,’ Minerva confessed and tentatively entered the study. ‘But Morgaine should have told you a long time ago ...’

‘Does it come with the position of Headmaster or Headmistress of Hogwarts to turn into a meddlesome fool?’ Severus spat. ‘Or have you simply spent too much time with Dumbledore? Sometimes people do not need help, Minerva. Sometimes ...’

His rant was interrupted as Minerva pleadingly raised her hands. ‘Severus, I will gladly apologise to both you and Morgaine another day. And if neither of you ever talks to me again, I will have to live with that. But right now, there are other pressing matters.’

‘Like what?’ Severus snapped.

‘Morgaine,’ Minerva started, and Severus frowned at the note of concern in her otherwise so composed voice. ‘She has not been at lunch or at dinner. She is not in her quarters or her office. In fact, no one has seen her since the staff meeting.’

All the anger Severus had felt over the last hours washed off him in a blink of an eye. ‘She might be down by the lake or in the greenhouse,’ he suggested.

Minerva shook her head. ‘I’ve sent Pomona to look for her in the greenhouse hours ago. Filius has asked the elves, and they have not seen her all day.’

‘Have you spoken to her grandmother?’ Severus asked.

Minerva nodded. ‘Margaret received a note around lunch. All it said was “He knows.” Severus, this is my fault. I should not have taken Morgaine unawares like that. Or you.’

‘Save your apologies for later, Minerva,’ Severus said, trying to keep the panic out of his voice. It was not like Morgaine to disappear like this. And all he wanted to do at the moment was find her.

‘Ask Hagrid to search the forest,’ he instructed. ‘I will round up the ghosts.’