The Redemption of Severus Snape

Part 38

"I'll need to speak to the pastor. I can't make that sort of decision on my own."

"Call me with the decision. You still have my number?"

"I do."

Lindsay reached inside her purse and pulled out her wallet. "I'll give you his business card so you know who you'll be dealing with. His name is Max Browning. He's my neighbors' nephew." Brother Timothy pocketed the card and rose with his thermos in hand. He said his farewells and began to walk away when Lindsay noticed that a branch from an old tree had fallen across the graves of her parents'. She was almost certain that she knew what sort of tree it was, but wanted to double check. "Before you go, can you tell me what kind of tree that is?"

"That's a rowan tree;" replied Brother Timothy, "odd for an English churchyard. Rowan trees are common in Welsh churchyards, but yew is more common in English churchyards. There's a Welsh businessman buried under it, and he requested that a rowan be planted over his grave. That's what I was told, at least. I can't verify it. But I do know plants and that's definitely a rowan tree."

"Why did he request a rowan tree specifically?"

"Rowan is supposed to protect against enchantment and evil spirits. I suppose he feared that his body would be subject to witchcraft after his passing." Lindsay's eyes widened and Brother Timothy laughed. "I think it more likely that he wanted to honor his Welsh heritage. Witchcraft indeed!"

"You don't believe in magic, Brother Timothy?"

"'Course not!" said Timothy as though he'd just been asked the most ridiculous question of his life. "I've never seen any evidence of it being real."

"I suppose the same thing could be said about God. Some people have claimed to have seen him, but there's no tangible proof."

"That will make an excellent conversation, Lin. And we'll have it when I have more time."

"Oh, that sounds interesting. We'll do lunch, or dinner, or we can do a long weekend because I talk a lot and I have plenty of room."

"I'll ring you up," said Timothy.

"Thank you, now you go inside and warm yourself in front of the fire."

"If only life were that easy," replied Timothy.

Lindsay placed roses on each grave and dusted the small amount of leaf litter from the headstones. She lovingly ran her fingers over the names on each grave marker. She spoke, as she always did, as though they were standing with her. She imagined their faces as she last saw them and told them about the minutiae of her life since her last visit. When the silence became unbearable, she said her goodbyes and walked over to Mrs. Jones' grave; her son, Adam, was buried to her left and her husband to her right. She placed a single pink rose on the kindly old woman's grave and dusted off her headstone. She did the same for Mr. Jones whom she'd never met. She felt a peculiar sense of satisfaction knowing that Adam was buried beneath her feet and that made her feel ashamed of herself.

Visiting the churchyard always left Lindsay feeling emotionally drained, but she forced herself to visit regularly. Normally she'd go home and play her violin as touching and hearing it was comforting to her, but the new violin, although exquisite, didn't bring back memories of her loved ones. Playing it made her think of Snape, and her feelings regarding him were confused. She hoisted her purse over her shoulder and started away when she remembered the rowan branch that lay across her parents' graves. She picked up the thick piece of branch and headed home.

A couple acquaintances of Lindsay's, friends of a friend, asked her to accompany them to a dance club that evening. Lindsay didn't need to be coaxed. She knew she was being asked so that she could provide a ride free of charge, but she didn't care. She'd be out of the house and with other people for a few hours. She looked longingly at her selection of mini skirts, but the weather demanded trousers. Perhaps she'd keep the chill away if she wore a long coat? It's not like she'd be walking very far.

A figure appeared with a tiny pop in a dark parking lot and stood next to a green Jaguar. He watched as three women walked to the entrance of a noisy dance club. The tallest of the three, undoubtedly Lindsay, began walking to the end of a long line, but the other two pulled her to the door. They spoke to the doorman who let them in almost immediately. Snape gave a quick look at his surroundings before following. He expected the imposing doorman to stop him, and he didn't disappoint. The doorman put his hand in Snape's shoulder to stop him from entering and looked down to shout at him, which is precisely what Snape wanted him to do. Snape's black eyes glittered ominously as they bored into the doorman's dull grey ones. The doorman began to blink and sway and Snape knew he had him.

"You will let me in," said Snape quietly.

"Let this guy in, Reg," said the doorman. Reg gave greasy-haired Snape a quick once over and refused.

"Is that a challenge?" said Snape softly and the doorman repeated the words, shouting them at Reg.

"What?" said Reg. "Are you on something, Mick?"

"Settle it, Mick," said Snape and Mick lunged at Reg. Snape slipped past, grinning, and two bouncers showed up to split up the fight. Mick was brought in complaining of dizziness and a splitting headache. Reg took his place at the door.

Snape spotted Lindsay immediately. She was standing at the bar with two other girls, and she'd already struck up a conversation with the bartender. Snape moved freely through the crowded club. Patrons looked him over and moved out of his way. He'd once thought it a curse, but now that he was older he saw the benefit of being mistaken for a pariah. He rarely had to wait in lines and was rarely held up by crowds.

A little distance away from the bar stood a small group of young men. The leader of which was a short heavyset fellow who kept glancing over at Lindsay. His mates encouraged him to speak to her. The heavyset fellow checked his breath before moving slowly toward the bar. He wiped his sweaty brow with the back of his and tapped Lindsay on the shoulder. She turned and smiled at him. Her companions looked the young man up and down and turned their backs on him. His confidence wavered and he began to stammer. Lindsay took the initiative and asked him if he wanted to dance. She didn't wait for a reply and took him by the hand and moved to the dance floor. The young man's confidence quickly returned and he chatted away with Lindsay while they danced.

After two dances and a conversation that didn't appear to be nearing an end, a second member of the small group approached and asked to cut in. Snape rolled his eyes as the lanky, acne-ridden, post adolescent attempted to move in time with the music. He kept stepping on Lindsay's feet and had difficulty moving his eyes away from her cleavage. Lindsay was gracious enough to pretend not to notice as she attempted to keep a mostly one-sided conversation with acne-boy. He did manage to keep his hands to himself.

Each member of the rag-tag little group took turns dancing with Lindsay, and she eventually moved away from the dance floor to converse with them. Just what that woman could find to talk about was a mystery to Snape, but her companions seemed to be entertained. Snape stopped a waitress and ordered a pint of bitter and settled in for what was promising to be a very long and very dull evening. Most of the patrons were very young and the general atmosphere of the club made his thoughts wander. He yawned and stared at his drink. The cuff of his burgundy shirt reminded him of Lily and his mind drifted into the past.

*