Chapter 21 – Folie à Deux (encore une fois)

(Tibby POV)

Tibby used one of her cleaning rags for a handkerchief, blew her nose violently, and then threw the rag into the fire. Still sniffling, she looked up at her master.

“But...” she tried one more time, before he cut her short with an impatient wave of his hand.

“No, Tibby,” he said decidedly. “No. There is no need for any further discussion.”

The house-elf’s vision blurred once again, and she rapidly blinked her tears away. Professor Snape did not like it when she cried openly.

As a matter of fact, he had so far been uncannily patient during her impromptu performance of The Hysterical House-Elf, Act One. But the point was that Tibby was not acting. She was genuinely unhappy.

“Tibby could...” she argued while frantically looking around as though that would help her to find the right arguments.

By chance, her gaze finally settled on a large jar containing ground leaves of Stapelia gigantean.

Tibby had learned a bunch about Potion-making during the last few months. She had learned the names and properties of most of the weird substances all these glass jars held. This one, for example, was also called Zulu Giant, or Starfish Flower. It was extremely expensive, and smelled of rotting meat.

“Tibby could make mistakes!” Tibby declared while she darted to the shelf and seized the jar.

She smashed it against the floor with all her might, and was immediately enshrouded in a cloud of ill-reeking flower dust. Tibby lunged at the next jar without bothering to see what it held, and smashed it as well.

Something cold and slimy oozed out of the heap of shards, and mixed with the Stapelia. The two substances hissed softly when they started to react with each other, and fetid-smelling violet smoke rose into the air. The sickening smell was overpowering.

“Tibby could b-break stuff!” the house-elf managed through clenched teeth. “House-elves get clothes when they fails their duty!”

With watering eyes – the stench really was quite horrible, and Tibby felt her stomach cramp – she looked at Professor Snape. Master had jumped back just in time and stared at the mess on his office floor with an almost curious expression on his pale face.

“Dragon bile and ground Starfish Flower,” he commented while watching the stuff. The slimy goo hissed softly, and the mixing components now emitted a new kind of yellowish smoke that felt like acid on Tibby’s face.

“With this, you have almost outdone Mr Longbottom,” Professor Snape decided.

Then he fixed his black eyes on Tibby, and she knew that she was in trouble now. This was the kind of stare she did not like to see on her master’s face.

“Now Professor Dumbledore must give clothes to Tibby,” she explained, speaking a little too loud and faking a grin, because she did not feel half as confident as she would have liked to be.

Snape, however, appeared to have understood what she meant to say. The expression on his face changed subtly – although there still was anger, Tibby also thought that he looked resigned, and as though he was trying to suppress a bitter smile. But mostly resigned.

“The Headmaster is a kind and forgiving man,” he said harshly, as though that was a bad thing. “He will not give clothes to you just for that.”

He paused, and stared at Tibby for another few seconds, with that bitter smile becoming more evident now.

“You belong to Hogwarts,” her master informed her, and something in his voice told her that she would have to accept this fact. “You belong to Hogwarts, and that means you will not come with me when I leave.”

Tibby lowered her head and bit her lip. Tears welled up once more, and she did not even bother to wipe them away.

“Clean this mess up,” her master said quietly, almost kindly. “And then get started with your work. All the instruments I have laid out on my desk belong to me. Wrap them carefully, and then pack them in a crate.”

He turned and left his office. Tibby sniffed and wiped her face with another rag. Master did not even look at her. He opened a large trunk in his living room and started to put books from his shelves into it.

Tibby sighed and looked at the gooey mess on the floor, and on her feet. She closed her eyes and hummed a little chant that she had learned from her mother. It was house-elf magic, and a very useful charm. Instantly the reeking stink disappeared and the air smelled fresh and clean. Tibby would still have to clean up, but at least the sickening stench was gone.

Her master looked up and shot one look at Tibby.

“No more magic,” he said, and Tibby nodded.

She knew that he was still angry about her misbehaviour – even if he understood her reasons – and cleaning the hard way was what she now got as a ‘reward’. True to his word, Professor Snape had proven that he was quite good at thinking up appropriate punishments when she deserved them.

Tibby put on protective gloves (unfortunately they counted as cleaning utensils, not as clothes) and set to work. First, she had to pick all the shards of broken glass out of the mess without cutting herself. She worked quietly for a while, almost enjoying on the difficile task. It helped her concentrate on her work.

Eventually she had collected all the glass and started scouring the floor with a hard brush. Once in a while, a few more tears escaped and fell on her hands, but Tibby continued to work.

Professor Snape would leave Hogwarts, and Tibby would help to pack all his personal belongings but she would not accompany him. She felt miserable.

After a few minutes, she had cleaned almost all of the goo away. When someone knocked on the door of Master’s living room, it almost startled Tibby. She ran to open the door, but did not want to touch it with her gooey hands. Professor Snape sent her away while she still was fumbling with the gloves.

“Go,” he simply ordered.

Tibby obediently returned to the office room and kicked the connecting door with her foot in order to shut it. Ever since Professor Flitwick had caught her eavesdropping, she had been very careful to demonstrate that she respected her master’s privacy and did not listen any more.

Today, however, things were different. Tibby had not kicked the door hard enough, so it still stood slightly ajar and Tibby heard what was going on in the other room. Professor Snape had greeted his visitor with a rude “What do you want?”, then there was silence for a few seconds.

Tibby was just about to close the connecting door when the visitor answered.

“Obviously, I came to see you,” she heard the Deputy Headmistress say. “Are you going to let me in?”

“Of course,” Master replied stiffly.

Tibby froze in her tracks. She knew immediately that this would be a conversation she wanted to witness.

For quite a while, Professor McGonagall had been a very welcome guest in these quarters and had sometimes even stayed for the night, and then her visits had suddenly stopped. Tibby did not know why this was so, but she did harbour a few suspicions.

Instead of closing the door, Tibby crouched down and continued her work as quietly as possible. She heard Professor McGonagall enter the living room and then stop abruptly after a few steps.

“Well?” Snape asked frostily while closing the door. “What can I do for you?”

“You’re packing already?” McGonagall answered with a counter-question. “But it’s still two more weeks until the end of the school year. When do you plan to leave?”

“As soon as possible,” Tibby’s master informed her bluntly. “No doubt that old meddler has told you that as well. I should have known he would not stick to his promise.”

Snape’s tone of voice was so belligerent that Tibby took her gloves off and sneaked back to the door. Hardly daring to breathe, she watched the two persons in the next room.

Professor McGonagall stood in the middle of the living room, in front of the open trunk. Master still stood next to the door, and although he looked murderous he avoided looking at her. The witch turned slowly and looked at him, acting as though she needed to think hard to understand his words.

“Do you mean Albus?” she eventually asked. “I have no idea what you are talking about. Naturally, he informed me that you wished to resign, but he did not tell me any details.”

Tibby did have the impression that the lady knew more, but did not wish to admit this fact.

The house-elf smirked. She knew from personal experience that handling the Potions Master and his moods was delicate work, and she also knew that the Deputy Headmistress usually was quite good at it. Even if she looked a little pale right now.

“Then…” Snape said slowly, as though trying to work out whether he could trust her words, “why are you here?”

“You can’t expect me to let you go just like that, without telling me why.”

Tibby saw Professor McGonagall bite her lip, as if she had said something she now regretted. Two spots of pink appeared on her cheekbones, highlighting her pallor, and Tibby suddenly realised that she looked extremely anxious.

Master had not noticed a thing. He still refused to look at McGonagall. Eventually he crossed the room and went to stand next to the fireplace.

“Minerva,” he said mockingly, staring at the flames in the hearth, “why would I wish to stay here with that bother known as Potter in the castle? You don’t actually believe that I like teaching?”

Tibby knew immediately that he had lied. And so did the Head of Gryffindor House.

“Your teaching methods verge on the sadistic, and I do certainly not approve of them. But I never had the impression that you dislike teaching.”

“You are wrong,” he hissed.

The witch inhaled deeply as though she was about to object and start arguing out of old habit, but then she held her words back and let the comment pass. She nodded mutely, and continued to study Snape’s back.

“Then what about your friends here?” she said after a few uncomfortable seconds had passed.

“Friends?” Master finally looked up, as though contemplating the thought.

“Satisfy my curiosity, is there any human being in this castle who would truly miss me?” he said, once more in that faked mocking tone of voice. “Apparently Tibby is sorry to see me leave – inexplicably so – but won’t you all be glad to be rid of that greasy git of a Potions Master?”

McGonagall looked at him, dumbstruck for a moment, only her lips were trembling as though she had just received a painful blow. Then Tibby saw her straighten up. Her eyes were sparkling with anger.

“How dare you.”

Professor Snape turned around, and for the first time since she had entered the room, their eyes met.

“How dare you say that?” she repeated coldly. “Not too long ago you sat in this very room and called me a friend. I was foolish enough to assume you were speaking the truth.”

Professor McGonagall turned on the spot and made her way to the door. She already had her hand on the door knob when Snape’s voice stopped her.

“Wait,” he said, sounding strangely weary.

Tibby held her breath while Professor McGonagall paused, and finally decided to turn back and face Tibby’s master again. She still looked hurt and angry, but was apparently willing to listen to him.

“I know I said that,” Snape said awkwardly. “I – I meant it, too. Minerva, you know I consider you a friend. But...”

She smiled, very tensely, and stepped a little closer.

“But?”

“But,” Snape said exasperatedly, “you and I both know that this friendship has become a little bit too complicated. It might be a good idea if I left for a while.”

Professor McGonagall again looked away from Snape, and Tibby saw her swallow nervously.

“I don’t want you to leave,” she all but whispered, “not even for a short while.”

And all of a sudden Tibby realised what this tall witch was trying to say.

This was most wonderful! Tibby felt a madly happy grin appear on her face. She loved romantic stories with a happy ending. This one might even turn out to be better than the book she had borrowed from one of the kitchen house-elves (‘Red Roses and White Lace’, by Sylvia Sylver.)

Now Professor Snape would certainly decide to stay at Hogwarts. Tibby looked at her master, but to her great disappointment Snape’s expression still was bitter. He had not understood. Tibby almost stomped her foot. Wizards!

“I am afraid it is not your decision whether I leave Hogwarts,” he said with a shrug.

McGonagall looked up, and this time she was the one who looked slightly exasperated although her lips were still trembling.

“Do you absolutely have to make this harder than it already is?” she sighed.

They exchanged another long look, and then something in Snape’s expression changed while he studied her face. The Deputy Headmistress held his gaze, although it was obvious that it cost her great effort.

“You are... afraid,” Snape finally observed, slightly bewildered.

“Why?” he added a few seconds later, when it became apparent that she would not answer.

“I am afraid I might say something wrong,” she finally admitted. “Whatever I choose to say, it might just... oh, it might make you stick to your decision.”

“You won’t talk me out of it,” Snape said, very quietly. “Not after what happened the other night.”

Tibby did not know what exactly her master spoke about, but it was not that hard to guess his meaning. She grinned slyly, although she felt sorry for Master. It really was a bit sad to see that he was so inexperienced in emotional matters.

Apparently Professor McGonagall had also come to the conclusion that the Potions Master was not just being stubborn, but also... well, a bit stupid about this matter. She would need to speak plainly.

“You know,” she said, gently, as though speaking to a scared child. “I am sorry for what I said in front of Cuthbert. I was angry, and got carried away. What happened... I suppose I should not have called it ‘stupid’ or ‘meaningless’. It did matter to me.”

“I know that you exaggerated for Cuthbert!” Snape snapped. “He needed a healthy dose of shock in that moment. But even if you say now that it wasn’t a totally stupid thing to do, that’s –”

He broke off abruptly, as though he had held his tongue just in time. Even so, the unspoken words just not enough seemed to ring in the air. Snape drew in a deep breath.

“– that is a development which makes a close friendship almost impossible,” he finished lamely while turning away. “If we wish to remain friends, we should keep a safe distance for a while.”

Tibby could tell that McGonagall had also picked up the omitted words. For a second, there was a wry smile on her face, then she grew serious again.

“Oh, Severus,” she said, “believe me, I understand. We’ve grown so close, and yet we always kept telling ourselves and anyone else that it was purely a platonic friendship – and now this. It does make things complicated.”

“Exactly, and that is why we should not see each other for a while. It’s so easy to add up friendship and sex, and come to the wrong conclusion,” Snape stated firmly.

He turned back around and even smiled a little bit, as though he believed that he had finally convinced the Head of Gryffindor House to let him leave. She looked him levelly in the eyes.

“Or the right one,” she said calmly.

Snape’s smile faltered.

Tibby felt her heart beat so hard that she was afraid it was loud enough to give her presence away. But both Snape and McGonagall did not seem to pay attention to their surroundings. They simply stood and looked at each other without saying a word.

The tiny house-elf held her breath. Something was wrong. This was kind of uneasy pause that made one notice all those unspoken thoughts lurking beneath a surface of silence. Professor McGonagall eventually attempted an uneasy smile, and she nodded so subtly that it was almost no movement at all.

Snape stared at her. The expression on his face was unreadable, except for a flicker of naked fear in his eyes.

“Don’t mock me,” he said, sounding strangely hoarse.

Tibby all of a sudden remembered the pictures of the beautiful red-haired girl, and she felt a surge of hatred although she did not even know who that girl was. All Tibby knew was that this redhead must have hurt Master terribly, if he was that unwilling to believe that anyone could love him.

“I’d never mock you, Severus,” McGonagall answered gently. “Well, not about this, in any case.”

He did not reply. His face still was impassionate, but Tibby thought his eyes were silently begging for those words to be the truth.

“Not about this, never,” she reassured. “You stubborn man, I’m trying to tell you that I do love you.”

Five very long seconds passed.

Then, Tibby decided, she must have blinked because she had not even seen Master move trough the room. How long did it take an elf to blink, 0.3 seconds maybe? At any rate, that was about the time it had taken Master to cross the room, push Professor McGonagall against the wall and start kissing her.

Tibby let out a great sigh, feeling as though she had been holding it for hours. She watched the kissing couple fondly. This was definitely much better than ‘Red Roses and White Lace’.

Finally, they broke apart. And finally, Master smiled – a genuine, relaxed, happy smile.

“You’re mad,” he informed the witch in his arms. “Raving mad. I fell in love with you a long while ago, but you loving me back, that is... insanity.”

By now, Tibby was beside herself with joy. She felt like jumping and singing and dancing, but she kept very still. She did not want to be noticed, not so much because she was afraid of the consequences, but because she did not wish to ruin this happy moment.

Professor McGonagall now also was smiling broadly, but she pretended to be serious.

“Now look who is talking,” she chided. “You are the one who must have lost his mind. Do you have any idea how old I am?”

“I don’t care the least bit.”

He kissed her forehead, and suddenly the ever-so-serious witch started laughing.

“It seems Poppy was right with her diagnosis, after all,” she giggled.

“What about?”

“When she declared us mad, both believing the exact same nonsense. Don’t you remember, when we came back from London? Folie à deux?”

“That’s right; I had almost forgotten that. Folie à deux, a madness shared by two – how very appropriate.”

Both laughed, and Tibby was so overwhelmed that she felt tears well up in her eyes.

“Now what?” Professor McGonagall asked a few moments later.

“Now... now I get to kiss you again,” Master decided. “And then... we’ll see.”

Tibby dabbed her eyes with another cleaning rag while they kissed again. She watched the couple for another minute, then Tibby finally closed the door to the living room.

That kiss had just crossed the line from ‘passionately loving’ to ‘nothing but passionate’, and Tibby did have a feeling that she ought to stop peeping through the door crack. Like all elves, she was curious by nature, but there were some things Tibby would rather not observe – at least not if she wanted to ever look at her master again without blushing violently.

Tibby looked around in the office, trying to think of other things. She cleaned the rest of the gooey stuff off the floor in less than two minutes. Then she did not quite know what to do next.

Master had earlier given her specific instructions to start packing his belongings. Technically she had to follow his orders.

It was a very, very, very bad thing when a house-elf did not do as he or she had been told, and Tibby had never before disobeyed on purpose. She did not even know if it was possible for her to reject a direct order.

For a long time, Tibby stared at the alchemy instruments laid out on Master’s desk. Then she took one silver knife and carried it back into the laboratory instead of wrapping and packing it. With shaking fingers, she put it back in the drawer where her master had usually kept it.

She closed her eyes and held her breath, waiting anxiously what would happen. Certainly she would now be struck by lightning, or at least be hit by some kind of elf-punishing curse.

Instead, nothing happened.

Carefully, she opened her eyes again and gasped for air. The silver knife still was in the drawer. And Tibby still was alive.

Tibby jumped with joy and darted back to the office.

She would disobey, and put Professor Snape’s belongings back into his workroom to make sure that he would stay at Hogwarts, together with Professor McGonagall. Tibby would do her small share to ensure a Very Happy Ending.