the intermitences of death

[nocturnus33]

 

To geminiscorp,

Scatteredlogic, without you my verbs tenses, punctuation and general grammar would be imposible! Thanks

Prelude

Chapter I
Chapter II
Chapter III

Chapter IV

Chaper V

Chapter VI
Chapter VII

He had only some happy memories at Spinners End, most of them linked to his “Ya Ya” Anna, his paternal grandmother. She had live with them, the queen of their home. He must have been four or five when she died; both of them had fallen ill with pneumonia, and there had not been enough money  for medicine.

 

He could remember little of her, but he treasured those with care: her smell of strong cigars and the softness of her flowery apron; the way she hid him inside her long skirts when father was mad at him; the reverent way she read the tarot cards.  She had an old and ragged set of cards, and consulted it frequently; he was not allowed to touch them. Once she was finished, she would put them away in her chest drawer. 

 

Severus once had dared to pick them up  while no one was watching; the weak autumn sun played upon the walls and the ceiling of his grandma’s rooms; the tremulous leaves of a tree were bright and whispered with the evening breeze. He thought about a magical kaleidoscope his parents gave him on his birthday.  He needed to climb the chest drawer and pull hard to open it.  The cards were there, Severus thought, glowing under the sun.

 

He spread the cards out the rug. Imitating the ways of “Ya Ya”, he picked two and watches them intently; one has a young woman , with a weird hat and what he thought was uncomfortable clothes. A lion was next to her; she was caressing it, her hands in its mouth. He wondered then why would someone do something so stupid? Still, he admired her. You must be brave in order to have a lion friend.  The other card had a naked woman in it. He liked her; she was awake at night, something adults never allowed him. Big stars covered the sky while she knelt in front of a river. She was doing a silly thing, he thought, just as the other lady. She was feeding the river with blue and yellow water. Why would a river need water? The woman had a moon in her head so she might be related to the stars above.

 

Then “Ya Ya” had come; it was proof of how strange adults were that she did not punish him for trespassing. Instead, she looked intently at both cards and kissed him.

 

Later he wondered how he had come to obtain those two cards: La Force and La Toile; he doubted his parent had given them to him, and he was certain he had them after “Ya Ya”’s death. 

 

“Ya Ya’s” death; a turning point in his childhood. He had come to remember that so strongly:

Everything was dark except the corner with the deadly lamp. He was faking sleep; he enjoyed the feeling of power that the simulation gave him, and he had slept for days, maybe weeks. He felt as if he were flying slightly, (as if the fever had made him translucent. Next to the lamp, he could hear murmurs. The words ‘Pneumonia’ and ‘funeral service’ floated to his ears. Even if they were meaningless to him, by the way they were pronounced, he understood that they imply a lethal threat, part of the adult world, and he felt vaguely important. “The kid is seriously ill...he needs to rest...he is frail”. He felt the absence of grandma; he missed her cold hands on his fforehead and the soothing words that made him feel safe. Far from there someone closed a door, and then he fell asleep again for an eternity.

Was he awake? Deep in the night he heard his mum quietly weeping, from so far away that maybe it was a dream. It was a sobbing that came from Hades. Everything was dark, and he was alone. He recognized that voice and no, it wasn’t a dream. The voice was too high and the shadows too deep to be a real dream and again he fell asleep. He slept more than he could imagine. At his bedside table, “Ya Ya” had forgotten two of her cards. He hid them between his pillows, enjoying “Ya Ya’s” smell on them.

There were murmurs again, next to the door in the corner. The room was chilly and the air seemed sharp. It was early in the morning and the sun projected a golden resplendence on the wall above his head. His father’s face was gray, and then the words suddenly became comprehensible. The doctor let his sentence drop with the full force of his professional potency. It was almost as if he was delighted to say it, “I’m sad to tell you this, Mr. Snape, but as with your mother, your child's situation is very extreme. He’ll soon follow her; there are no possibilities for him to recover”. He saw his father’s head fall in helplessness and the doctor’s hand on n his shoulder. “You must accept things as they are; all is in the goddess hands”.

At least it’s not in your hands you foolish man. He hated that doctor because he made his mum cry and kept his granny away. He also, and this was unforgivable, make his father suffer. The father was invincible, omniscient. He was the light and the darkness in Severus’s life. He adored and feared his father beyond measure. Father was a force capable of the most intimate concern and despotic fury. He would not fail to heal his son. Severus wanted nothing to do with doctors, gray faces, suffering and funerals. Once again he let himself be drawn effortlessly into the profound deadness of unconsciousness.

Over the years he had developed the habit of carring those two cards in his pocket, he unconsciously caressed them with his thumb when in trouble. During his childhood he started inventing for each of them, a background story, a name, he assigned them desires, feelings and attitudes; most nights, he fell asleep while creating imaginary worlds in which he shared adventures with his two ladies and the lion; mostly, they protected him from faceless monsters and dangers.

 

Once at Hogwarts he had learned to despise divination and, with it, tarot as a Muggle attempt at witchcraft. He felt slightly guilty for the allure those two cards had over him. Around his fourth year, he had taken up the habit of visiting old London bookstores, looking for  used and out-of -print tarots; he couldn’t buy them most of the times, but he enjoyed observing the arcana, and comparing his old ladies with the ones in the stores. As soon as he started earning his own money, he started collecting them.  He had come to meet lots of antiques dealers and fine books clerks. All of them would faint in horror had they known that seventy-six arcana were thrown away, while only La Force and La Toile would be treasured with care. Even if he had came to own rare and valuable pieces of art through these decks of cards, his grandmother’s cards were always the dearest ones. All through his life, those two cards remained in his pocket. Severus knew them so well that he could see them every detail with his close eyes.  When reaching adulthood, he could see that by smiling so fondly at him that day, “Ya Ya” had planted two main spotlights in Severus heart; for once the knowledge that, no matter how bad things could look, he had La Force to face it, and even if it was painful, the hope of a nurturing and brighter life.

 

He had outgrown the divination shit; in order to discover it’s deeper symbolism, through colors, gestures and figures, the ancient Marseille version, the one “Ya Ya” bequeathed him, had come to encompass deep archetypal symbols of his ache for Strength and Hope, guiding him over the painful years of the wars, saving him from the Dark Lord’s clutches … even taking him from the edge of death. He couldn’t explain it rationally, but after being left by the Potter brat at the Shrinking Shack, both ladies had come to him; covering the ceiling with stars, La Toille had fed him with her water and enlightened him with moon rays; La Force had had laind him over the lion and forced him to looked past the present situation. Not knowing how much time had passed, he awoke during the night and had walked unharmed out of Hogsmeade toward the unknown.

 

Along the years, he had come to live on a small Greek Island, his “Ya Ya” Anna’s land, and became a book clerk himself.  Life had been peaceful, finding respect and friendship among the villagers, with just a few anti –wizard wards, in case someone bothered to approach him. He had come to relax and love the life the La Force had showed him.  Comfortable, not fulfilled would whisper La Toille now and then.

 

So, when Granger had appeared, like a ghost from the past, he didn’t recognize her. Not at first. All he could see was La Toille addressing him. Not a blond but a brunette one; at the moment he didn’t even focus on details.  Just her sad expression, a thin and tired, yet strong face, black circles bellow her eyes, surrounded by wrinkles. A fertile soil: he felt a strong desire to rest his head on hers.

 

He vanished wordlessly.

 

Comments

[geminiscorp.livejournal.com]

Whoop!!!! What a wonderful thing to wake up to! I'm copying it and sending it to myself so i can read it at work during break. I'll check out the links when I get home. =D

*hugs*

[nocturnus33]

Thanks, you are so nice. Today is a chilean holliday so I make a time in order to post

[geminiscorp.livejournal.com]

I love the back ground on Snape. A different view than most fic's! But I agree he could have a greek background. Fits the physical description.

The Tarot card's are also very interesting. Tarot keeps popping up in my life lately, maybe I need to go have a reading.

I can't wait to see what happens next!

[nocturnus33]

"I can't wait to see what happens next!"
I can’t wait either. I'm writting it through but more slowly than I would like. In ten more days I will go on cirgury and we have two weeks leave to prepare my thesis defence, so
I dont think I will have much time to writte in this two months. But then, procastinating is a marmaid call, and facing study fic's allure me. ;)

[septentrion1970.livejournal.com]

I'm here on geminiscorp's rec'. this fic is fascinating, with its unusual structure and its disjointed narrating.

[nocturnus33]

Thanks, Im having fun playing with it.