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The Name in Red: Beyond the Gate	By : Raug397 Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female Views: 1775 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 1-4 and 1/2 Years Thereafter
- 2-Revelations
- 1
- 2
HELLO EVERYONE!!! This, quite obviously, is the sequel to my story, The Name in Red. *~*If you have not read The Name in Red yet, you MUST do so before reading this story, or you won’t understand it! The Name in Red can be found at http://hp.adult-fanfiction.org/story.php?no=600011898 If you HAVE read The Name in Red, then I give you my heartfelt thanks for your readership, and by all means, read on!

**--PLEASE READ-- AUTHOR'S NOTE AS OF 7/21/2011 --PLEASE READ-- ** Hello, everyone. I know it's been forever since you've heard from me. With all the Potter-goings-on lately, with the release of the final movie and today being the 4th anniversary of the release of Deathly Hallows, I have been thinking a lot about my stories lately. I have a great story planned out in my head for Beyond the Gate, but unfortunately, I will be starting law school in a few weeks which will leave me with very little free time. I know that Beyond the Gate has been largely neglected since I began writing it so long ago, probably due to a bad mixture of lack-of-feedback and the knowledge of what a huge, time-consuming undertaking it is to write such long, high-quality fan fictions. This was a lesson I learned only after completing The Name in Red. As I have said before, I had no idea that The Name in Red would be as long as it turned out to be, or that it would take me nearly two years to complete. I mean it when I say that The Name in Red took a lot of very hard work and a lot of time.

I know that many people suffering from Post-Potter Depression may be seeking out fan fiction to read, and I DO hope that they find and enjoy The Name in Red. As of right now, however, I have no idea when I when I will find the time or motivation to continue writing Beyond the Gate. Believe me when I say that I would VERY much like to work on, and complete, Beyond the Gate at some point in the future. I just have no idea when that might be, and I didn't want to leave you all hanging in the dark (if there's anyone hanging on anymore) and wondering when/if I will ever update. I would like to finish it someday, but I'm not sure when that will happen, so I can't make any promises at this point in time.

Also, I would like to make everyone aware that, during the time that has elapsed since I last edited any of my stories in any way, Adult Fan Fiction has since 'upgraded' their input text method for adding chapters. Unfortunately, if I go to edit any given chapter, it no longer recognizes my paragraph spacing. This means that if I would like to make any edits whatsoever, even for something as small as a typo, I have to go through the entire chapter and restore the proper paragraph spacing which is a huge, painstaking chore. Therefore, if you notice any minor spelling, format, or grammatical errors in any of my previously published chapters, please be forgiving of them. Whenever I published ANY chapters, they were always proofread by me at least twice because I want a highly-polished and professional product, but every time I read The Name in Red, it seems that I find a new typo to correct. Now, however, it would be a huge pain in the neck for me to fix any of them. Any remaining typos will have to stand as-is for the time being.

As always, if you read my stories, thank you very much for your readership and I sincerely hope that you enjoy them and that they give you pleasure. If you would like to contact me for any reason, or be notified if I ever update Beyond the Gate with a new chapter, please e-mail me at Raug397@yahoo.com.

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The Name in Red: Beyond the Gate.

Chapter 1: 4 and ½ Years Thereafter.

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On this particular night in mid June, the modestly-sized house at the end of the lane was brightly alight. The sun, nearing its summer solstice, was staying out later and later into the evening. Tonight, at almost nine-thirty, there was still a very heavy hint of fading daylight lingering in the sky, yet it was just dark enough that the lights shining throughout the little town were beginning to win out against the recently faded sun. The crickets were out in force, chirping enthusiastically at the oncoming darkness.

It was just then that a soft crack sounded just beyond the little town’s perimeter, across the town from where the house sat on the end of the lane. Two figures, one quite tall and slim, and the other at least a head shorter, had appeared out of nowhere in the thick grass. At their appearance, several crickets jumped frantically into the wilder undergrowth a short distance away, and a few startled fireflies streaked off in opposite directions with a blaze of faint, yellow light.

The taller of the two figures disentangled his arm from the other, lowering the hood of his traveling cloak once he was certain that no one had witnessed their arrival. The other, shorter figure soon followed suit, and without hesitation, the two began striding side-by-side down the small cobblestone lane which led toward the center of the village.

“I still don’t see why you always insist upon going by Side-Along,” said Snape after a few moments of silence.

The long-haired girl at his side shot him an amused smirk which was barely visible in the thickening darkness.

“Come on,” she smiled, turning back toward the lane ahead of them, “It’s more romantic that way, don’t you think? Do you remember the first time you ever took me somewhere by Side-Along Apparition?”

“It was for a rather busy trip into Diagon Alley, if I remember correctly,” said Snape, still looking straight ahead.

The girl gave a small snort of laughter.

“Of course you remember correctly,” said Sarah, “You remember everything, don’t pretend as if you don’t. Besides,” she continued with a shrug of her shoulders, “It makes more sense this way. Not using Side-Along would be like us leaving home and driving in two different cars even though we’re going to the same exact place at the same exact time.”

“What?” Snape said, glancing bemusedly to his side; despite his efforts, he had still not completely ironed out all of the Muggle expressions and lines of thinking from the girl.

“Nevermind,” replied Sarah, stepping closer to the man at her side and hooking her left arm in his right as they strolled along.

They were nearing the center of town. There, at the very center, stood an obelisk inscribed with countless names. It was an old war memorial, one which always melted away and reformed itself into a completely different monument of remembrance when they drew close enough to it. Sure enough, when they came within several yards of it, it rearranged itself into the statue of a small, happy family. A woman with a kind, pretty face and long hair was sitting at her husband’s side with a smile. Her bespectacled, untidy-haired spouse was cradling a small baby in his arms and laughing down silently upon the child.

As Sarah and Snape passed it, they could hear raucous shouts coming from the pub nearby, as light spilled out of its windows into the village square. Sarah, as always, could not help herself but to stare up at the statue reverently, while Snape made quite a point to look away from it. On the other side of the monument, once they were a suitable distance away, it became the obelisk war memorial once again. Sarah tore her eyes away from it. Then, both of them set their gaze toward the very last house on the far end of the lane to their left.

“Who all is going to be there?” Snape asked, straightening up considerably now that he had passed the Potter Memorial.

“I’m not sure,” said Sarah, her eyes resting on the house. “Everyone’s pretty busy, but it is a special occasion, isn’t it?”

“Of course,” said Snape, his eyes locked on the windows of the house which they were rapidly nearing, trying to discern any shadows or movement beyond them. He couldn’t quite help himself; he still felt somewhat awkward in the setting of large, social family-type gatherings.

When they reached the house, Sarah’s outstretched hands found the clasp of the small, white-picketed gate. She opened it to allow herself and Snape into the yard, and then carefully closed it behind her. Together, they strolled up to the front door along the garden path. Then, after a deep breath, Snape raised his right hand took the lion-shaped knocker, rapping on the door several times.

Immediately, there came several excited yells from inside. “That’ll be them! Quick, mum, hide the cake!” yelled a male voice, and a female voice shrieked with laughter. Then, several stomping footfalls later, the front door was wrenched open.

There, framed in the light flooding out from within, stood Harry Potter, several inches taller than he had been four and a half years previously, and looking rather as though he needed a shave. As soon as he had flung the door open, Ron Weasley rushed up to his friend’s side, still yet a few inches taller (much to Harry’s chagrin), his arm thrown casually around the shoulders of Hermione Granger, whose bushy mane of brown hair was looking remarkably well-tamed. All three of them smiled brightly at their new guests, and behind them could be heard the shuffling and talking of several more people, as well as the chattering of two small children.

“Hey!” Harry shouted, stepping forward and grasping Snape’s hand tightly. Snape gave a curt nod, and as soon as Harry had broken free of him, he draped his arms around Sarah in a bear hug. Ron and Hermione followed suit, shaking Snape’s hand respectfully (Hermione even dared to give him a small hug), and throwing their arms around Sarah.

“All right, you two?” Ron asked, stepping aside with Hermione and Harry in order to allow them inside. Despite his reluctance several years previously, he was now grinning broadly on the sight of the two of them together as they stepped into the house and shook off their cloaks.

“Yeah! But what about you guys? We haven’t seen you in weeks!” Sarah exclaimed, handing her cloak off to Harry who took it, along with Snape’s, and hung them on the hooks beside the door.

“You know how summer is,” Ron said, his arm wrapped around Hermione’s shoulders once again, “All the kids out of school, always coming by the shop. We’ve been extremely busy. And you know these two,” he said, nodding to Hermione and Harry, “Never quite enough work for them at the Ministry, is there? The layabouts,” he laughed as Hermione jabbed him in the ribs playfully with her elbow.

“Come on in, then!” Harry said loudly, motioning everyone into the living room. There, on cozy couches and armchairs surrounding an empty fireplace, were the house’s other guests. At the end of one couch sat George Weasley, single-eared, and apparently demonstrating the uses of a brand new Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes product to his father sitting next to him, who was watching his son interestedly. Next to them sat Bill and Fleur. Fleur, as stunningly beautiful as ever, was beaming up at the new guests as they entered the living room. Bill, badly scarred and rugged-looking, was bouncing a very good-looking young girl with silvery-blonde hair on his knee; she was laughing gleefully. In a very squashy-looking armchair sat Andromeda Tonks, darkly beautiful, holding an eagerly excited young boy restrainingly by the hand; his hair, while mostly black, was streaked with brightest bubblegum pink. Near them, on the other couch, sat Ginny, still dressed in her Quidditch robes. Her hair, tied back in a tight ponytail, looked distinctly windswept. Ginny still looked quite petite in stature compared to Harry, Ron, and Hermione. She probably always would. Seated cross-legged on the floor beside all of the furniture and looking patently too large for the room, was Hagrid. He always found it quite the challenge to squeeze through the door frame whenever he visited here. When he caught sight of Sarah and Snape, he roared with delight and raised his enormous tankard.

“Here they are, everyone!” Harry announced, shepherding Sarah into the living room where everybody else sat.

Everyone looked up at Sarah and Snape just as a slightly plump woman with bright red hair rounded the corner into the living room, her arms laden with a huge cake. Peering around her ankle was a very old and very short house-elf dressed in a fluffy white towel, with a large golden locket hanging on his chest. The cake was covered in white icing. Quite diplomatically, it read, in crimson, gold, green, and silver lettering, HAPPY BIRTHDAY, SARAH, while twenty three candles of the same colors burned on its surface. When the cake entered the room, everyone stood, and with a deafening cry, yelled,

”HAPPY BIRTHDAY!” This pronouncement was followed by much laughter, giggling, hugging, and hand-shaking.

“Here you are, dear,” said Mrs. Weasley, placing the cake to rest on the polished wooden coffee table between the couches and arm chairs before the empty fireplace. “Charlie and Percy couldn’t make it, but they send you their wishes.”

“Grawpy wishes yeh a good one, too,” said Hagrid, stooping to avoid hitting his head as he watched the cake being placed in the center of the room. “Isn’ exactly easy fer him ter visit here,” he said, looking ruefully at what he surely thought to be the obscenely low ceiling.

Meanwhile, Mr. Weasley had stood aside to allow Sarah a prime spot standing before the cake with its many dancing candles. Both of the small children, Victoire Weasley and Teddy Lupin, looked excitedly at the cake, as if they wished very much to blow the candles out themselves.

“Make a wish, then!” said George, motioning toward the empty spot between he hand his father. Everyone else cheered their approval.

As Sarah approached the cake, everyone else drew in around her slowly; they all watched her with interest as she looked upward thoughtfully, but none moreso than Severus Snape. After a few moments of silence, Sarah seemed to make up her mind about something. Then, with a great intake of breath, she leaned forward and blew out her candles.

This was followed by much clapping.

“Well done, Sarah!” said Mrs. Weasley, stepping forward to stand on the opposite side of the coffee table, scrupulously pulling the burnt-out candles from her creation. When she was finished, she stuffed the candles into one of her apron pockets, and looked up at the girl standing before her. She cupped the side of the girl’s face with her hand for a moment. Smiling widely, she patted it affectionately. “Twenty-three years old, and I still say you don’t look a day over eighteen! You must tell me your secret, dear,” she simpered.

As Mrs. Weasley quickly turned back in the direction of the kitchen, she did not notice as Sarah’s face instantly drained of whatever color it had. She swallowed hard.

“Th—Thanks, Mrs. Weasley,” Sarah choked out, her eyes staring emptily at the spot where Mrs. Weasley’s face had just disappeared from.

Keenly intuitive, Hermione quickly stepped out from under Ron’s arm and surveyed Sarah, her head tilted quizzically.

“Are you okay?” she asked.

Sarah blinked, snapping back to reality; her dark brown eyes fixed themselves on Hermione’s face. She looked to be on the verge of speech when Ron spoke up loudly.

“Probably just the lateness of the hour!” Ron yelled, stretching his arms above his head languidly, Hermione having escaped his grasp, “It’s much too late for a proper dinner if you ask me, how anyone could eat their evening meal at this hour…,”

Ginny rolled her eyes. Sarah, grateful to have the situation diffused by Ron’s perpetual hunger, smiled at Ginny’s exasperated display.

The girl’s behavior, however, had not for a fraction of a second gone unnoticed by Snape, whose eyes were still locked on her. He watched her silently, pensively, until he was clapped roughly on the shoulder by Harry. Startled, he looked up to see the boy directing him toward the dining room with a smile and an outstretched arm. With another curt nod, Snape acquiesced to be shown into the dining room, but not before looking back at the girl over his shoulder as he went.

“Honestly, Ron,” said Ginny, standing, and attempting to sweep out some of the wrinkles from her windswept Quidditch robes, “I told you I would be pretty late, that’s why I told you and Harry to tell them not to get here until nine thirty. It was an evening match.”

“Oh yeah?” Ron shot back, his empty stomach making him characteristically impatient. He pretended to glance toward the starry golden watch on his wrist. “Match run long, then? I don’t ever remember it taking you this long to win before. Or did you lose?”

All of the other occupants of the living room had already filed into the dining room, but Sarah remained to watch the exchange. Ginny’s eyes narrowed dangerously at her older brother.

“The match ran long, for your information,” she said, whipping her long, bright red ponytail over her shoulder, “We flattened the Chudley Cannons, and our Seeker took a bit longer than usual to catch the Snitch, as she’s just undergone that Muggle eye surgery with lasers and whatever the bloody hell it is.” Then, without another word, Ginny turned on her heel and strode off into the dining room, leaving Sarah howling with laughter, and Ron looking as though he had just drank a pint of bubotuber pus.

Dinner went quite smoothly. Everyone sat together at the dining room table as Mrs. Weasley doled out an impressive array of food and drink. Hagrid took an entire end of the table up by himself, seated on a thoroughly reinforced chair. Work was the most frequented topic of conversation for the evening. George was still working at the store he had founded with his late brother, and Ron, after finishing Hogwarts, had joined him in the money-spinning business. Their father, meanwhile, was once again back at work in the Misuse of Muggle Artifacts Office at the Ministry of Magic, the job which he had always enjoyed best. This always made him quite eager to discuss the goings-on at the Ministry with Harry and Hermione; Harry was now working for the Auror Department, and Hermione was working for the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures. Percy, too, was working for the Ministry as a very high-ranking official under Kingsley Shacklebolt, and was kept uncommonly busy. Otherwise, few others at the table could resist the urge to ask Ginny about how her own career was going; she was currently playing Chaser for the all-women Quidditch team, the Hollyhead Harpies.

As the dinner conversation was very lively, no one particularly noticed that Snape did not really join in it at all. Instead, he sat in relative silence, barely touching his food. He could not seem to tear his gaze away from the long-haired girl seated next to him, who was making her best effort to appear nonchalant in front of the party guests. She wasn’t fooling him, however; he could feel her inner turmoil as if it were his own.

A couple of hours later, the cake which Mrs. Weasley had presented to Sarah was remarkably smaller than its original size, though still not gone. As it been quite large and somewhat tall, everyone present had not even managed to vanquish it entirely. Once again, Sarah had to give a hand to Mrs. Weasley’s cooking and baking skills. As everyone else lounged around the living room feeling full, sated, and drowsy, Sarah doubted that she was the only one of this mindset.

Mrs. Weasley was still in the kitchen sorting out the dishes. Kreacher, who had been forced to watch helplessly as someone intruded upon his home and cooked an entire meal, was seated on the kitchen floor, looking quite put out at his inability to perform his usual duties. Several times that evening, Harry had been forced to go over and console him as he began to rail on about Mrs. Weasley’s cooking or serving style. When Harry assured him that the very next night, he, Ron, Hermione, and Ginny would all be depending upon him to cook dinner, he seemed to calm down slightly. Harry imagined that adjusting to a new home was difficult for a house-elf who had spent decades in the service of a different house.

Shortly after his completion of Hogwarts, Harry had resolved to rebuild the house in Godric’s Hollow which had once belonged to his parents. He felt that it was ultimately the right thing to do, and the most fitting. Also, even though Kreacher had transformed Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place into a cozy home, Harry could still not escape the feeling that accompanied living in the house which his beloved godfather had hated and loathed, the house in which Sirius Black had felt utterly imprisoned prior to his death. After completing the house’s restoration, Harry had convinced Ron and Hermione to come and stay with he and Ginny; the house had more than enough room, and he knew that they would all be happiest living there together under one roof, as close as they were. It had taken quite a while to talk Kreacher around to the new arrangement, but Kreacher adjusted well to his new home in time.

Still, the old elf sat there on the kitchen floor, watching jealously as Mrs. Weasley usurped his duties. Fortunately, he only had to put up with this treatment a few times a year at best if birthdays or holidays were being celebrated at the home in Godric’s Hollow.

As the hour grew quite late, guests began departing. The first people to rise and announce their departure were those with small children whom had begun falling asleep; Bill and Fleur with Victoire, and Andromeda with Teddy. Bill had a sleeping Victoire cradled in his arms as he and his wife bid everyone farewell. A few minutes later, when Andromeda stood and told a very sleepy Teddy that they were to be leaving, the young boy protested.

“But I’m not tired!” Teddy shouted, stomping his little foot mutely into the living room carpet. He shook his head vigorously, and for a moment, his streaked hair burned brightly pink before returning to normal. “I want to stay at Harry’s!”

At this, Harry chuckled and knelt down out of his armchair. He had been snuggled up with Ginny. He met his godson face-to-face. Sarah and Snape were seated on the sofa to their left. On the side of the sofa rested a medium-sized shopping back which was filled with all of the birthday presents that Sarah had received.

Sarah was watching Harry, but Snape was staring blankly at the coffee table, his eyes unfocused. Mr. Weasley was sitting on the small stone ledge in front of the fireplace, a glass of firewhiskey in his hand. George was seated beside him, still fiddling with his new-fangled invention, which, whose real function, as of yet, nobody had been able to guess. Hagrid, meanwhile, was once again seated beside all of the furniture, draining his tankard.

“You can come and visit again soon, okay? Or I’ll come visit you,” said Harry, stroking his godson’s hair affectionately. When Teddy grimaced at the dismissal of his wishes to stay, Harry could not help but laugh as he vividly recalled the likenesses of Lupin and Tonks mixed together in his tiny features.

When Harry stood, Andromeda hugged him farewell and Teddy pouted between them, looking mutinous.

“Good night,” she told him, reaching down to grasp her grandson’s hand. With a grimace, the young boy tore his hand out of hers.

Teddy caught Sarah’s eye, and before she knew what she was doing, her eyes widened at him.

He blinked back at her confusedly.

“What are you starin’ for?” Teddy said, tilting his head at Sarah; perhaps he was ashamed to have been observed in his childish wishes to stay up later and remain at his godfather’s house. Andromeda and Harry looked over at Sarah as well. Snape seemed come back into reality, his deep, black eyes focusing on the little boy with pink-streaked hair.

“Nothing,” Sarah supplied quickly, rearranging her features into a small smile, “I was just noticing how tall you’ve gotten, Teddy,” she told him. It was true; she had been idly staring at him, marveling at how much older he had gotten in what seemed like such a short period of time… When Sarah had first met Teddy Remus Lupin, he had been a baby, scarcely a year old… Now, however, he was a little boy of just over five, and growing rapidly. Before Bill and Fleur had left with their daughter, she had been absently staring at Victoire as well… she had recently turned four years old, and Sarah had been observing her in a similar manner, with similar thoughts.

When he heard this, Teddy seemed to straighten up and swell with pride, his mouth splitting in a wide grin.

“Have I? Really?” the boy asked, looking back and forth between his grandmother and his godfather for confirmation. They both smiled back down at him, nodding.

“You sure have!” Harry exclaimed, placing his palm flat on the top of Teddy’s head as if measuring his height. “I won’t be surprised if you end up as tall as Uncle Hagrid!”

Teddy beamed.

“Do you know what, though?” Harry asked, his tone suddenly serious as he knelt down again beside his godson. He lowered his voice almost to a whisper. “You won’t be able to grow very tall if you don’t get enough sleep, so you had better go home with your grandmum and get into bed straightaway.”

“Yeh better listen to ‘im, Teddy,” jested Hagrid, lowering his tankard with a stern-looking nod.

Sarah smiled. After having once again surveyed the girl, Snape’s eyes became unfocused again. Ron and Hermione were watching the exchange fondly as well, snuggled up together at the end of the couch opposite Sarah and Snape. Mr. Weasley suppressed a small snort in his glass of firewhiskey as he took a sip. Ginny was smiling brightly.

Teddy’s eyes widened as if the full weight of this revelation had instantly dawned upon him.

“Good idea!” he suddenly yelled, snatching Andromeda’s hand tightly and trying to tug her past his godfather toward the door, “Come on, gran, we’ve got to get home!”

After bidding everyone farewell, Andromeda consented to be led toward the front door by her grandson. Everyone watched, sniggering to themselves, as Teddy Lupin departed the home with extreme enthusiasm.

As Harry sat back down, closely entwined with Ginny, she smirked at him, her eyes shining.

“You’ve gotten pretty good at that,” she said. “Loads of practice,” Harry said with a shrug. “He always wants to stay here whenever he comes over, you know that.”

Before anyone else could say another word, Snape stood up. As he did, all eyes on the room were instantly upon his dark form, almost as if they had forgotten his presence over the course of the evening. Everyone looked at Snape expectantly as he surveyed the living room, and then lowered a hand toward the girl sitting on the couch next to him.

“We should be off as well,” said Snape quietly. “The hour is growing quite late.”

Sarah looked up at him, slightly surprised. Usually, Snape, whose patience for her desires was unwavering, consented to stay as long as she liked whenever they attended a gathering such as this. Now, however, he was the one suggesting that they leave. It was getting quite late, Sarah knew, but this was somewhat uncharacteristic; at any other time, Snape would have continued sitting silently beside her until she herself wanted to leave.

“Alright,” Sarah said at last, placing her hand in Snape’s and allowing him to help her to her feet. When she rose, so did everyone else. They all briefly clasped hands with Snape once again, and hugged Sarah, wishing her a very happy birthday. “I’ll want to see that when it’s finished,” Sarah said as she broke away from George, who was still holding his confusing contraption in one hand.

“You bet,” he smiled at her.

When Ginny hugged Sarah, Sarah shot a furtive glance at Ron before saying,

“Congratulations on the win, Ginny, I bet you girls will end up on top of the league this year.”

Ginny gave a determined nod.

Then, scooping up her bag of presents, Sarah hugged Harry and Hermione. “I’ll come and get that book from your office sometime soon, Hermione, it sounds really interesting,” said Sarah, breaking away from the hug. “I just hope I don’t pester you at all.”

Both Hermione and Harry chuckled.

“You two come in and out to visit us so much,” said Hermione, smiling, “People are going to start thinking that you work for our Departments or something.”

“You know, they might,” Sarah said, laughing. She had developed quite a habit of popping in and out of the Ministry to visit them, sometimes begrudgingly accompanied by Snape. At times, the careers of her friends kept them so busy that one of Sarah’s best bets to see them was to join them for lunch in the Ministry’s cafeteria.

“Thank you for dinner Molly,” Snape nodded to Mrs. Weasley, who had just entered the living room, wiping her hands on a dish towel.

A small, choked squeak came from the kitchen.

“Good night, Arthur,” Snape said, shaking Mr. Weasley’s hand.

After Sarah had endured a rib-crushing hug from Hagrid, and Snape endured an equally powerful handshake, Harry collected their traveling cloaks from the hooks beside the front door.

“We’ll see you again soon,” he assured them, handing off their cloaks.

“Thanks for everything, Harry,” Sarah told him, swinging her cloak over her shoulders and fastening it. This was a phrase that she visited upon him frequently… whenever she said it, she meant it for quite a lot more than whatever particular thing she was thanking him for at that moment in time. She was certain that he knew as much.

After bidding a final farewell to their friends, Sarah and Snape found themselves closing the white picketed gate at the end of the house’s garden path and walking along with each other back down the cobblestone lane in the direction they had come. Since the door to the home had shut behind them, however, neither of them had uttered a word.

The night was now stiflingly dark around them. Some storm clouds had closed in while they were visiting with their friends. Now, distant rumbles of thunder could be heard, and the darkness around them was only lifted temporarily by the arced flashes of lightning across the sky. Sarah walked beside Snape, unspeaking, and not bothering to link her arm in his as she usually did. Instead, she seemed completely distracted, her gaze directed downward at something she could barely see in the night.

When they were once again nearing the memorial at the center of the village square, Snape could keep quiet no longer. His eyes, quite as black as the night around them, darted to the girl at his side. A look of tender concern painted his usually inscrutable features.

“What has been bothering you so, as of late?” he asked without pretense, trying to examine the girl in the darkness. Recently, the girl had been become increasingly reticent. She would frequently be caught staring into nothingness, apparently deep in thought, but whenever he would attempt to inquire as to her perplexity, she would shrug it off. Whatever was bothering her, it seemed to have been especially set off tonight.

“What is it? Tell me,” he insisted. He was demanding to know. His patience, usually ironclad and persistent where the girl was concerned, would persist no longer. He shared an intimately close connection with the girl, and though he could largely sense her feelings and emotional states, he could not directly access the specific thoughts racing through her mind short of performing Legilimency on her.

“Isn’t it obvious?” the girl said quickly, as if the words had been waiting to escape her for quite some time. “Isn’t it obvious, Sev?” Her voice sounded strange.

Another arc of lightning flared in the sky; Snape, who was looking down at Sarah as they walked along together, saw the girl examining her hands before her, and they were shaking.

He steadied himself. Somewhere, deep inside him, he had been expecting her to be the first to voice this revelation. He had noticed it as well, but did not wish to speak it aloud. If it were true, the prospect of it was too sobering. He remained silent, waiting for her to continue as they passed through the center of the village and the memorial erected to Harry and his parents. Behind them, it turned back into an obelisk, and the shouts from the still-lively pub died down.

“Everyone else might not notice, or else they’re too afraid to say anything,” Sarah said quickly. “You heard what Mrs. Weasley said tonight. I know you sense it, too.”

There was a rumble of thunder. In its wake, the girl whispered:

“Severus, we aren’t aging anymore.”

There was another flash of lightning in which their eyes met briefly, but Sarah was thoroughly unsurprised to see that Snape did not appear shocked in the slightest. When darkness fell again over his pale features, she continued speaking. As she did, Snape could dully feel a great sinking in his chest, the exact same feeling that the girl was experiencing at that exact moment…

“We aren’t getting any older,” she said, her voice shaking. “Look at them, they are, they’re all getting older… we aren’t. It’s been over four years since… since…,” her voice trailed off, unable to continue her thought. She swallowed hard; she still did not have the conviction to admit aloud, that in any and all likelihoods, her actions were at the root of this phenomenon. “We should… we should be… Why aren’t we?”

There was another crack of thunder, much louder this time, and almost as soon as it sounded, a heavy rain broke upon them. Instantly, Snape’s hand dove into his robes and he withdrew his wand, pointing it up at the sky above them as if he were holding an umbrella. The rain then seemed to come into contact with an invisible barrier, leaving them dry beneath it. Having reached the edge of the village and the spot to which they had Apparated earlier in the evening, they stood quite still. When another lightning bolt illuminated their surroundings, Snape looked down into the girl’s face; she was looking back up at him, her eyes quite wide and fearful. For any other man, it would have been impossible to tell whether or not the girl had been crying, as her cheeks were flecked with raindrops; Snape, however, could sense the hotness welling up in her eyes and spilling out. He continued to stare down at her form in the darkness for several more moments, unsure of what to say. Perhaps the girl was looking for words of reassurance or comfort, but he could not find any. What did one say at the pronouncement of such a thing?

“I know,” he said at last. He straightened up and set his jaw. His words seemed to linger on in another soft rumble of thunder. This was his admittance of it, mostly to himself… something which he had been dreading.

For several minutes, both of them stood silently, simultaneously experiencing an identical sinking feeling as if the warm summer earth underfoot were threatening to swallow them.

Snape could think of nothing more to say, except,

“Happy birthday,” as he held out his arm for her.

“But what does it mean anymore?” the girl whispered as she locked her arm tightly in his, barely audible above the rain. “Tonight I wished that it weren’t true.”

“I know,” he whispered back. Once again, could find no more words for her. He did not speak before he turned roughly on the spot, pulling both of them into the crushing blackness.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A/N: There you have Chapter 1! I hope you enjoyed it. Lately, the plot bunny had been harassing me with a bunch of ideas for a sequel to The Name in Red, and I could ignore it no longer. I think I have a pretty good idea of where I would like this story to go. I will be borrowing bits of lore from other sources in order to create as canonically-realistic and smooth a story as possible. Don’t forget, as Dumbledore himself put it, “these are realms of deep magic with are hitherto unknown and untested”. I have no doubt that, eventually, this story will end up being as long as a novel as well. Keep in mind that it took me almost two years to complete The Name in Red… please have patience for me! =) If you are looking for lemons, have patience as well! I won’t just throw lemons into my story without making sure that they “fit” where they are. I put them in where they feel most natural. Once again, my story is primarily plot-driven and character-driven, and lemons are just a plus. Don’t worry, though. They’ll be there eventually! I just usually can’t foresee where until I actually get there. Anyway, I hope you enjoyed Chapter 1. I know it was a bit brief, but just like The Name in Red, I’m sure chapters will begin getting very lengthy as more exciting things begin happening in the story. Please leave me a review if you would be so kind. They are greatly encouraging, and would definitely make me feel great about undertaking this new project. Also, if you would like me to add you to an e-mail update list, please leave your e-mail address in a review, or alternatively, e-mail at Raug397@yahoo.com Stay tuned! =)
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The Name in Red: Beyond the Gate