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Part One ~ ThreadsChapter One
Fawkes preened his feathers. They were coming in nicely, since his last incineration. Beautiful red and gold and blue… Fawkes was not a vain bird, but he was proud of his feathers.
The phoenix looked up as an owl pecked at the glass of Dumbledore's office. It should have come at breakfast, if it wanted to deliver a letter.
Fawkes watched curiously as Dumbledore opened the window. "Well, now," the headmaster said, "What do we have here?"
It was an eagle owl, and proud as any bird Fawkes had ever seen. The owl cast Fawkes a haughty glanced, and held out his foot. A scroll was tied to the eagle owl's leg- a rather outdated way of sending communication, Fawkes thought. Most witches and wizards used envelopes.
Dumbledore untied the scroll, and looked down at the seal. "Ah, Balthazar," he said, "What have you been up to now, my old friend?"
Fawkes shuffled on his perch, straining to see the scroll. He remembered Balthazar Vassos, a scholar. He'd visited Hogwarts once or twice, but his primary home was in Istanbul.
Dumbledore read the scroll patiently. The eagle owl was not as patient, fidgeting and ruffling his wings, exchanging less than pleasant stares with Fawkes.
Dumbledore looked up at his phoenix and smiled, his blue eyes twinkling. "Dear Balthazar has been thinking of us."
Finally, Dumbledore sat down to write his reply. This, Fawkes was able to read without leaving his perch.
Dear Balthazar,
It is agreed. Send her in due time.
Best wishes,
Albus
He tied the note to the eagle owl's leg, and the eagle owl took off none too brusquely. Fawkes thought him rather rude, and hissed slightly in disapproval. Dumbledore stroked the phoenix's feathers, saying- "Patience, Fawkes. He only means to return to his master in due haste."
Dumbledore looked at the phoenix in amusement. "I daresay you are dying of curiosity, Fawkes."
If he could blush, Fawkes would have. He met Dumbledore's gaze steadily. The headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry picked up the scroll and read.
"Esteemed Albus, I will have to speak to him about that- friends shouldn't address each other as 'esteemed.' Ahem. As you may or may not remember I took into my home an apprentice some years ago, Charlotte Banks. I believe you do remember, since you sent her to me- and a wondrous favor you did me, Albus. Charlotte is the most gifted witch I have ever met, if she struggles here and there. She has a passion for learning, and her memory is impeccable… if, of course, she is actually listening to me." Dumbledore smiled, no doubt imagining Balthazar realizing that his apprentice was not listening.
"Despite her occasionally wandering attention, she is a very astute young witch. However, I believe she is growing bored in the academic life, Albus. Circles of old witches and wizards are no place for a woman barely in her thirties. She yet has much life ahead of her- and certainly plenty of time to return to academic research. Until then, she has expressed a desire to teach. Well that's certainly good, isn't it Fawkes?"
The phoenix bobbed his head in agreement.
"I think it would be a waste of Charlotte's skill to have her teaching ordinary magic. Her skills are really in High Magic- Occlumency and Legilimency, Ceremonial Magic, and the like. If she were to teach, advanced classes would be more suited to her. I suggested this to her, and she has expressed enthusiasm. If you are willing to hire her, she is perfectly willing to work.
"I leave it all up to you; Albus- please contact me with your reply as soon as possible.
"Sincerest wishes,
Balthazar Vassos."
Dumbledore folded the letter, still smiling. "He leaves it all up to me," Dumbledore chuckled, "Never mind that Balthazar himself would never willingly give up an apprentice unless he thought it best for their academic growth." The headmaster chuckled again, and Fawkes cocked his head to the side, confused.
Dumbledore looked up, his eyes twinkling again. "I would be quite ready to hire Charlotte Banks even if all she wanted to do was tutor students. You should remember her," and here Dumbledore smiled. "She had quite a relationship with a certain young man who later became our esteemed Potions Master."
Fawkes understood then, and his eyes widened slightly. Then he glared at Dumbledore reproachfully. Dumbledore was stepping outside the bounds of propriety.
"Now, now, Fawkes, don't look at me like that," Dumbledore admonished. "I did hire Charlotte for her skill, not because I wished to play matchmaker."
It was just as well, because when he informed the staff, the Potions Master was less than pleased.
"Whatever is the matter, Severus?" Dumbledore inquired as Snape began pacing at the back of the room. Fawkes glanced sardonically at the headmaster, who no doubt already knew what was wrong.
"It is my own business if I do not wish to see Charlotte Banks again," Snape returned coolly, in a voice that brooked no questioning.
Fawkes glanced at Dumbledore. It was no secret what role Charlotte Banks had played in Severus Snape's trial, after the end of the war. She had done her damnedest to get him convicted, and had very nearly succeeded. Fawkes couldn't blame the Potions Master if he did not want to speak to Miss Banks or even hear her name uttered ever again.
"Professor Dumbledore," McGonagall piped up, "A High Magic class? Are you sure it is necessary? These things are usually left to post-school studies."
"It never hurts to offer our students extra opportunities for learning," Dumbledore replied, "And I have complete faith in Miss Bank's ability to teach in a safe manner."
Snape snorted. Fawkes glowered at the Potions Master.
"As it is, she will be arriving soon," Dumbledore replied. "She's spent much of the last few years in Istanbul. I hope you can all give her a warm welcome." Dumbledore glanced at Snape.
~*~*~
Charlotte Banks ran her index finger across her ring finger half-consciously; barely aware she was drawing attention to the pale band where her engagement ring had once been. Her dark brown hair was clipped neatly behind her head, a string of amber beads around her throat. She hadn't been to England since the end of the war, when she was called in to testify at Severus's trial… and she'd done everything she could to put him behind bars.
The fact that she had failed, and that Dumbledore had testified to his innocence, didn't necessarily change her opinion. If she could do it over, she would still try to put him in prison. It would have put her mind at ease, these last few years, knowing where he was, knowing that she couldn't undo what she'd done.
Strange, that that thought would give her some peace of mind.
She'd loved him once.
Charlotte sighed, looking down at her hand. The incriminating pale band of skin was unassuming enough in itself, but it was what others would read into it that worried her.
She rubbed at her temple, fighting off a headache. The jet lag would kill her. England was no small distance from Istanbul. It was mad, she realized, leaving the place that had become her home for cold and rainy Britain, leaving her friends for the man she had once tried to put into the worst wizarding prison in the world.
Charlotte wouldn't blame him if he tried to poison her.
Yet she couldn't deny that she had been growing restless in the scholarly circle Balthazar had introduced her to. She loved the old man like a favorite uncle, but she had longed for people her own age, and Balthazar had known it.
Not that there was an abundance of people her own age at Hogwarts. Those she would have to find at Hogsmeade- but it would be refreshing to speak her native tongue for more than a few sentences at a time. Balthazar had suggested for a time that she teach Turkish wizards and witches English, but they both knew that was a waste of her skills.
The train chugged into the station, and Charlotte- along with all the muggles around her- rose and retrieved her purse. It had been a long time travelling from Turkey to France, and with enough headaches of its own. Next she would take an airplane across the Channel, and then she would set foot on her homeland for the first time since she was twenty.
Charlotte was swept up in the hustle and bustle, moving from the train station to the street and employing her abominable French as best she could to get a cab to the airport. She was glad, at least, that she only had one bag. "English?" her cab driver asked drily.
Charlotte smiled wryly. "I promise not to linger in your country long."
Charlotte rubbed at her ring finger again as the plane took off. What would she tell those who asked? Someone would ask she was sure of it. She shook her head- Severus would probably make a point of asking once he noticed it. Notice it he would, she was sure. He noticed everything- particularly if he could use it against those he held a grudge against.
Robert… Merlin, that marriage was possibly the biggest mistake of her life.
~*~*~
Severus Snape paced. It was likely that if anyone took the time to measure how much he had paced in his life time, he had walked to the moon and back twice.
Charlotte Banks.
He had hoped to never hear that name spoken again, never mind seeing its owner day in and day out for nine months.
Traitorous bitch. He'd cared for her, more than he should, and she had repaid him by trying to get him locked up in Azkaban, running away to Turkey, and marrying the first dolt to ask for her hand.
Severus growled under his breath, pacing a trench into the hardwood flooring of his quarters. He wouldn't mind wrapping his hands around her pretty little throat and strangling her to death. He would never trust that woman again.
Dumbledore had been watching Severus pace for the better part of a half hour, sipping at a glass of wine.
"You really have not forgiven her?"
Severus rounded on the headmaster, ready to spit. "Forgive her? She would have had me rotting in a cell in Azkaban, had she got her way!"
Dumbledore only sipped at the wine, not replying. Furious. Severus resumed his pacing, hands behind his back, eyes fastened on the floor. His cloak was tossed carelessly across the sofa- a true sign that he was absolutely furious. He had not spoken more than one or two sentences at a time to any of the staff without snapping since Dumbledore had announced that he had hired Banks to teach High Magic.
High Magic- at Hogwarts. The idea was ridiculous. The last thing Severus needed added to his schedule was a bunch of dimwitted sixth and seventh years running around fancying themselves master legilimens.
"She loved you, Severus," Dumbledore said softly.
"She had a strange way of showing it," Severus snarled back.
"Will you at least come see her? She is arriving in an hour."
Severus continued to pace. See her? Banks hardly deserved it. Then again, she might consider it some sort of smug victory if he shied away from this. He set his jaw and met Dumbledore's gaze levelly. "Yes," he said simply.
Dumbledore went to meet her at the Entrance Hall, and Severus espied her as she peeled off her cloak, soaked in the late August rain. Charlotte Banks had a darker hue to her skin since the last time he saw her, her normal pallor replaced by a tan gained under the Turkish sun. Likely it would have vanished by October. She was dressed all in amber colors, as if she had tried to bring the Near East with her. Banks was even wearing a headscarf.
She looked up and met his gaze. Banks straightened her shoulders and gave a mere nod of acknowledgment.
Neither would back down.
"Hello, Headmaster," Banks said coolly, "Hello, Professor Snape."
"Professor Banks," Severus replied crisply. "Or is it Professor Adams, now?"
Charlotte's mouth tightened into a thin line. "Banks." He knew. How could he possibly know about Robert?
Severus arched an eyebrow, reading Charlotte's tense body. An achieved Occlumens she may have been, but they had learned together, and he knew her. There was something she did not want him to know. "What happened to Mr. Robert Adams? I had heard you married him."
Her lips nearly disappeared as her mouth continued to tighten. "He died," she said simply. Please, she thought, please don't let him ask about Carolina.
"I am sorry," he said, though he clearly was not.
Charlotte held herself in check, keeping her shoulders tense. She didn't want to let on that she still had a secret. "Headmaster Dumbledore," she said, turning to face the older professor. "I had wondered where my classroom was."
"Of course," Dumbledore said, "Right this way."