{"id":99,"date":"2008-03-31T08:58:42","date_gmt":"2008-03-31T07:58:42","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/juno-magic.fancrone.net\/blog\/the-apprentice-and-the-necromancer\/part-17\/"},"modified":"2012-11-13T20:48:11","modified_gmt":"2012-11-13T19:48:11","slug":"chapters-161-170","status":"publish","type":"page","link":"http:\/\/juno-magic.fancrone.net\/blog\/junofanfic\/hp-fanfic\/the-apprentice-and-the-necromancer\/chapters-161-170","title":{"rendered":"Chapters 161-170"},"content":{"rendered":"
\n

\u00e2\u20ac\u02dcThe Apprentice and the Necromancer\u00e2\u20ac\u2122 by JunoMagic
\n Chapters 161\u00e2\u20ac\u201c170<\/h2>\n<\/div>\n

The Absurdity of Street Corners<\/h3>\n

\u00e2\u20ac\u02dcVery well. Where do you suggest we start this\u00e2\u20ac\u00a6exploration?\u00e2\u20ac\u2122<\/p>\n

\u00e2\u20ac\u02dcWhy not right here?\u00e2\u20ac\u2122<\/p>\n

They were standing at what had once been a shadowy street corner at the beginning of Spinner’s End. Now it was not precisely shadowy anymore, but at least lost in the glittering lights of a giant\u00e2\u20ac\u00a6Yule tree,<\/em> a sign informed them.<\/p>\n

The tradition of Yule trees, the explanation continued, dated back to the Pagan patron trees of Germanic tribes, such as Yggdrasil or Thor’s Oak. This particular tree had to be cut down in the course of regular forest management and was donated by the Forestry Commission. And they needn’t have a bad conscience about its illumination either because it was lit by energy saving lamps (donated as well, by the local electricity supplier).<\/p>\n

\u00e2\u20ac\u02dcAt any street corner the absurdity of existence can strike a man in the face,\u00e2\u20ac\u2122<\/em> Severus murmured. \u00e2\u20ac\u02dcAlbert Camus.\u00e2\u20ac\u2122<\/p>\n

The wistfulness in his voice made her heart ache. She dared to press herself closer against him. The coarse fabric of his duffle coat lightly scratched her cheek, and its smoky scent tickled her nose.<\/p>\n

\u00e2\u20ac\u02dcLife’s a bitch, and then it has puppies,\u00e2\u20ac\u2122 Hermione muttered. \u00e2\u20ac\u02dcIf we make it out of this one, my efforts in life will be dedicated to achieving the most boring existence humanly\u00e2\u20ac\u201dand magically\u00e2\u20ac\u201dpossible.\u00e2\u20ac\u2122<\/p>\n

oooOooo<\/strong><\/p>\n

Together they turned to the house on the opposite corner.<\/p>\n

With its newly sand-blasted bricks, windows and door trimmed with white paint, the Victorian-style iron-wrought fence intertwined with sprigs of holly, it could have been an illustration in a nostalgic picture book. But it was a shop, and the illuminated bay windows served as showcases.<\/p>\n

Hermione and Severus noticed the hand-painted sign next to the door at the same time. Both of them gasped; Hermione with stifled laughter, Severus with shock.<\/p>\n

\u00e2\u20ac\u02dcBe-Witched,\u00e2\u20ac\u2122<\/em> the sign read, \u00e2\u20ac\u02dcWiccan and Pagan Supplies for Magick & Witchcraft. Est. in 1999.\u00e2\u20ac\u2122<\/em><\/p>\n

\u00e2\u20ac\u02dcThere is no wizards’ shop in Spinner’s End,\u00e2\u20ac\u2122 Severus hissed, when her gasp turned into a giggle. \u00e2\u20ac\u02dcAnd I’d have heard if someone had opened one here!\u00e2\u20ac\u2122<\/p>\n

\u00e2\u20ac\u02dcOh, Severus, that’s not a wizards’ shop. It’s Muggle! An esoteric shop\u00e2\u20ac\u201dyou know, for Muggles who are trying to find magic in their world.\u00e2\u20ac\u2122<\/p>\n

When he just stared at her, she couldn’t suppress an amused snort. \u00e2\u20ac\u02dcSurely growing up in the wild Seventies, you got some of that crowd even here! You know, magic mushrooms? Rock music? Changing the world? Sex, drugs, rock’n’roll, and all that?\u00e2\u20ac\u2122<\/p>\n

\u00e2\u20ac\u02dcSharing<\/em> mushrooms maybe, but not selling them!\u00e2\u20ac\u2122 Severus retorted, but he appeared to relax. \u00e2\u20ac\u02dcActually, I never had money for drugs or rock music. A few pints in the pub was the wildest I got during my summer holidays. As for changing the world\u00e2\u20ac\u00a6all I ever wanted was to change my position in it. To get out of here<\/em>, and at school to get out of the clutches of\u00e2\u20ac\u201d\u00e2\u20ac\u2122 He stopped. \u00e2\u20ac\u02dcYou know how well that turned out.\u00e2\u20ac\u2122<\/p>\n

Hermione could taste the bitterness of his words. She linked her arm with his and leant against him. \u00e2\u20ac\u02dcYou don’t have to talk about it. But I would like to know how it was. Here. Then.\u00e2\u20ac\u2122<\/p>\n

He stared at the display window in silence. Hermione followed his gaze and took in the strange mixture of Muggle and magical items. Real runes and real tarot cards, a big candle in the shape of a black cat, the statue of the Indian elephant god Ganesha, a pink dream catcher. Incense sticks and perfume oils. Celtic jewellery. Muggle books on witchcraft and self-improvement that made Hermione bite her tongue to keep from laughing. And another hand-painted sign with a rather pretty calligraphy of the words \u00e2\u20ac\u02dcBlessed Be\u00e2\u20ac\u2122<\/em> on it.<\/p>\n

\u00e2\u20ac\u02dcCome,\u00e2\u20ac\u2122 she said at last and tugged a little at his arm to clarify that she wasn’t about to insist on an uncomfortable conversation in the damp dusk of a December day. \u00e2\u20ac\u02dcLet’s see what else has changed.\u00e2\u20ac\u2122<\/p>\n

oooOooo<\/strong><\/p>\n

The house next door was now a Montessori nursery school.<\/p>\n

\u00e2\u20ac\u02dcI’m not really convinced of that educational method,\u00e2\u20ac\u2122 Hermione finished her rudimentary explanation, \u00e2\u20ac\u02dcat least not for older children. But I suppose it’s nice for the little ones, especially if they are special needs children.\u00e2\u20ac\u2122<\/p>\n

Again she felt that keen stab of regret at the thought of how likely it was that she would never get to see what happened if you mixed the genes of a brilliant, temperamental Potions Master and a smart, slightly more easy-going, bushy-haired Potions apprentice.<\/p>\n

oooOooo<\/strong><\/p>\n

\u00e2\u20ac\u02dcThey’ve torn down the chimney,\u00e2\u20ac\u2122 Severus observed as they crossed the street again to take a look at the old mill. \u00e2\u20ac\u02dcThat’s definitely an improvement.\u00e2\u20ac\u2122<\/p>\n

\u00e2\u20ac\u02dcThe Old Mill\u00e2\u20ac\u2122<\/em>, as another sign informed them, was now an award-winning model-project for sustainable urban development and regeneration.<\/p>\n

A busy shopping centre with stores and galleries took up the ground floor. Hermione noticed a small supermarket that advertised organic and regional products, an outlet centre for handmade woollens, and a tiny \u00e2\u20ac\u02dcArts & Crafts Shoppe\u00e2\u20ac\u2122.<\/em><\/p>\n

On the first floor, offices were located. The name tags showed a diverse mixture: the environmental agency of the city council, a solicitor, the local Greenpeace office, and a dentist among others.<\/p>\n

Flats took up the floor above the offices. A poster praised the opportunity to save money and<\/em> the environment by doing without a car. The benefits: reduced fees on utilities and the public transport system. Another poster advertised time-sharing of cars (\u00e2\u20ac\u02dcCut costs and reduce emissions\u00e2\u20ac\u2122). <\/em>Hermione reflected how much better it was for the environment to be a witch. Flooing produced very little smoke, broomsticks relied on renewable resources, and Apparition was the most environmentally friendly mode of transportation imaginable.<\/p>\n

\u00e2\u20ac\u02dcIt looks really nice,\u00e2\u20ac\u2122 Hermione commented. \u00e2\u20ac\u02dcI’ll have to take a closer look at some of the shops.\u00e2\u20ac\u2122 She noticed Severus’ stiff posture, the way he kept flinching ever so slightly as people hurried past them. \u00e2\u20ac\u02dcNot now, don’t worry. Why don’t we go back outside? I think I’ve seen a little park on the other side of the street. It won’t be as busy there.\u00e2\u20ac\u2122<\/p>\n

<\/p>\n

Foxes and Swans at Spinner’s End<\/h3>\n

In the deepening dusk the park looked dreary; the trees bare, the bushes cut back. But in summer it would be nice, with just enough lawn for picnics. And the nearby stream smelled fresh and clean.<\/p>\n

In the middle of the park was a fountain. A reluctant Severus in tow, Hermione circled it.<\/p>\n

\u00e2\u20ac\u02dcNormally I don’t really like modern art,\u00e2\u20ac\u2122 she admitted finally. \u00e2\u20ac\u02dcMost of the time, I have no clue what to make of it. But this is quite nice.\u00e2\u20ac\u2122<\/p>\n

\u00e2\u20ac\u02dcIt\u00e2\u20ac\u2122<\/em> was made of metal in a warm, muted coppery colour. Something that looked like an angel with a bush on its head was bending over a large wheel and kissing it. A second, much smaller statue lived on the edge of the basin. This one was positively cute: it was a fox, its distinctive fluffy tail curled slightly as it bent down to lap up some water.<\/p>\n

Next to the fox, a copper plate inserted in the edge of the basin explained the monument.<\/p>\n

\u00e2\u20ac\u02dcIt’s supposed to commemorate the \u00e2\u20ac\u0153victims of industrialization\u00e2\u20ac\u009d.<\/em> The latest of which were inhabitants of houses that stood in this place who were killed in the explosion of a leaking gas pipeline. It was done by a local artist. Umm<\/em>\u00e2\u20ac\u00a6that angel is actually a dryad,\u00e2\u20ac\u2122 Hermione said, squinting at the plate.<\/p>\n

She felt, more than heard the choked inhalation next to her.<\/p>\n

Her face prickled with apprehension, the tiny hairs at the nape of her neck standing on edge, as Severus’ reaction registered with her. \u00e2\u20ac\u02dcThat was not a gas leak, was it?\u00e2\u20ac\u2122<\/p>\n

He exhaled heavily. \u00e2\u20ac\u02dcNo,\u00e2\u20ac\u2122 he replied very softly. \u00e2\u20ac\u02dcIt was not.\u00e2\u20ac\u2122<\/p>\n

He drew another deep breath. \u00e2\u20ac\u02dcDeath Eaters. After the final battle. They didn’t like it when they found out about my true allegiance.\u00e2\u20ac\u2122<\/p>\n

oooOooo<\/strong><\/p>\n

It was love at first sight.<\/p>\n

Aided and abetted by the efforts of the house-elves, but still: Hermione fell in love with Severus’ tiny house the very first moment, when its hazy contours\u00e2\u20ac\u201dhidden behind multiple wards\u00e2\u20ac\u201dsolidified into the chopped-off remnant of an ancient row of brick houses. With its towel-sized front garden, Victorian-style iron fence, fanciful bay windows (obviously added later on), an old-fashioned door knocker, and a cast-iron boot scraper inserted in a niche in the wall next to the door, it was certainly quaint, but charming.<\/p>\n

\"Spinner's<\/p>\n

When they entered the little house, and the very first room was filled with books from the floor to the ceiling, all four walls, with the exception of the windows, the fireplace, and the door, of course, she was head over heels. When she discovered the magically enlarged, black-and-white chequered kitchen with the old cast-iron Aga cooker, she squealed. When she sighed reverently over the ball-and-claw feet of the bath tub on the first floor, she caught how Severus just shook his head in a bemused fashion.<\/p>\n

oooOooo<\/strong><\/p>\n

When he exasperatedly pointed out the bad insulation, the dismal condition of the old-fashioned utilities, and the small size of the two bedrooms, one tinier than the other, she had the nerve to shrug and call them \u00e2\u20ac\u02dcdarling\u00e2\u20ac\u2122.<\/em><\/p>\n

oooOooo<\/strong><\/p>\n

\u00e2\u20ac\u02dcOh, look! There’s \u00e2\u20ac\u0153Swan Lake\u00e2\u20ac\u009d <\/em>for Sunday’s matinee!\u00e2\u20ac\u2122<\/p>\n

Later he could never reconstruct what had prompted him to say \u00e2\u20ac\u02dcyes\u00e2\u20ac\u2122.<\/em><\/p>\n

oooOooo<\/strong><\/p>\n

Of course he knew the tale staged in the ballet. The dream of true love. The motifs of transformation, purification, and regeneration. He also knew the music. He was an educated man; of course he knew Tchaikovsky. Lucius Malfoy had even seen it fit to invite him to Muggle London once to enjoy it on stage.<\/p>\n

But he had never before experienced it with Hermione next to him, her hand searching his, her eyes riveted on the dancers, her lips parted in a sigh as she gazed upon the stage\u00e2\u20ac\u00a6<\/p>\n

Suddenly he did not want to die.<\/p>\n

He wanted to live.<\/em><\/p>\n

He wanted to live, and every single Christmas he would share with Hermione, he wanted to find a Sunday’s matinee somewhere, to drink in the beauty of this music and this dance, and her sighs, and her smiles, and\u00e2\u20ac\u00a6<\/p>\n

oooOooo<\/strong><\/p>\n

…later, to scrub her back in that ridiculous bath tub.<\/p>\n

oooOooo<\/strong><\/p>\n

She loved the music. Loved it. It was on one of the first LPs her parents had given her. If she remembered correctly it had been a gift of the elusive Easter bunny when she was three or four. She’d been searching for the promised bounty frantically, but she just couldn’t find it. On the verge of tears, she’d finally looked up. She still didn’t know why. Maybe an amused cough of her parents had alerted her? Whatever the reason, she’d looked up. And on top of the sideboard\u00e2\u20ac\u201dhigh above her head at the time\u00e2\u20ac\u201dsat the LP of Swan Lake.<\/p>\n

Yes, that was<\/em> what a couple of British dentists regarded as an appropriate gift from the Easter bunny to their little daughter.<\/p>\n

Hermione didn’t mind. She simply loved the music. And when she was old enough, her mother had taken her to London to see the ballet on stage.<\/p>\n

But nothing could have prepared her for how she felt seeing the ballet with her husband at her side.<\/p>\n

Granted, it was not London quality. The choreography was traditional, the music not as inspired as it could have been. But there was Severus next to her, and once she even dared to reach for his hand\u00e2\u20ac\u00a6<\/p>\n

\u00e2\u20ac\u02dcI think I really like the oboes and the harps best,\u00e2\u20ac\u2122 she whispered. \u00e2\u20ac\u02dcThe oboes are so sonorous and sad, and the harps so light and dreamy.\u00e2\u20ac\u2122<\/p>\n

\n<\/embed><\/object>\n<\/p>\n

oooOooo<\/strong><\/p>\n

During the intermission they talked about swans.<\/p>\n

\u00e2\u20ac\u02dcDid you know that swans mate for life?\u00e2\u20ac\u2122 Hermione asked. \u00e2\u20ac\u02dcAnd swans of the northern hemisphere are white, but in Australia there are black swans.\u00e2\u20ac\u2122<\/p>\n

He nodded but didn’t comment.<\/p>\n

\u00e2\u20ac\u02dcAnd did you know that there are legends about swans in most cultures?\u00e2\u20ac\u2122 she went on. \u00e2\u20ac\u02dcIn the Finnish \u00e2\u20ac\u0153Kalevala\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/em> there’s a swan living in the River of Death. And Hinduism ascribes to swans the power to travel between spiritual worlds.\u00e2\u20ac\u2122 She smiled sadly. \u00e2\u20ac\u02dcIf only that were true. I would have asked for a swan for Christmas.\u00e2\u20ac\u2122<\/p>\n

<\/p>\n

Under the Mistletoe<\/h3>\n

\u00e2\u20ac\u02dcHOUSE-ELF!\u00e2\u20ac\u2122 Severus roared, staring at the room in disbelief. \u00e2\u20ac\u02dcWhat have you done?\u00e2\u20ac\u2122<\/em><\/p>\n

\u00e2\u20ac\u02dcOh my God,\u00e2\u20ac\u2122<\/em> Hermione breathed. \u00e2\u20ac\u02dcA Christmas tree with real<\/em> candles. And garlands of holly around the mantel piece. And Christmas stockings! Look, one is green and silver and the other golden and red!\u00e2\u20ac\u2122 She had the nerve to giggle. \u00e2\u20ac\u02dcAnd\u00e2\u20ac\u201doh, Severus!<\/em> Look, up there! Mistletoe! Now you have to kiss me!\u00e2\u20ac\u2122<\/p>\n

He looked down at the young woman, the way she peered around him at his dingy living room full of delight, her brown eyes glowing, her cheeks still red from the cold wind, her curls accordingly in utter turmoil\u00e2\u20ac\u00a6Somehow his left hand found its way to her back, the fingers of his right stroked gently over her cheek, trailed down to that stubborn chin, tilted it upwards\u00e2\u20ac\u00a6<\/p>\n

He found her lips were soft and warm and welcoming.<\/p>\n

For a moment, both of them relaxed into that quiet touch of mouth meeting mouth. Then he pressed closer against her and began to stroke his lips against hers, teased her lips with his tongue\u00e2\u20ac\u201donly to be welcomed all over again. Her hands went around his neck, eagerly drawing him closer. When she opened her mouth for him, her own tongue eager to meet his, teasing, twining, he did not need Legilimency<\/em> to feel her hunger as his own.<\/p>\n

When they broke apart, breathing heavily, even more flushed than before, Severus could barely remember why he had summoned the house-elf that was trying very hard to act as if she was nothing but another piece of furniture inside the living room.<\/p>\n

\u00e2\u20ac\u02dcMaster Professor Snape has summoned Winky, sir?\u00e2\u20ac\u2122<\/p>\n

Hermione smiled. Happiness sparked a warm, amber glow in her brown eyes. She knelt down in front of the house-elf and solemnly extended her hand to Winky.<\/p>\n

\u00e2\u20ac\u02dcThank you very much, Winky,\u00e2\u20ac\u2122 she said softly. \u00e2\u20ac\u02dcThis very beautiful.\u00e2\u20ac\u2122<\/p>\n

The diminutive elf stared at Hermione suspiciously, and Severus recalled his wife’s teenaged efforts of her \u00e2\u20ac\u02dcfreedom for house-elves campaign\u00e2\u20ac\u2122.<\/em><\/p>\n

\u00e2\u20ac\u02dcYou is not giving Winky clothes, is you?\u00e2\u20ac\u2122 the elf asked. Then she screwed up her face. Fat tears were rolling down her cheeks. \u00e2\u20ac\u02dcI forgets,\u00e2\u20ac\u2122 Winky whispered. \u00e2\u20ac\u02dcYou can’t<\/em> give Winky clothes. Winky is a lost<\/em> elf. Wi-wi-without a ho-home. A-a-and without a fa-family.\u00e2\u20ac\u2122<\/p>\n

Hermione raised her head and met his gaze. He could see the question in her eyes.<\/p>\n

\u00e2\u20ac\u02dcI thought you wanted to liberate all house-elves,\u00e2\u20ac\u2122 he said grumpily.<\/p>\n

She sighed, and the warmth faded from her eyes. \u00e2\u20ac\u02dcI\u00e2\u20ac\u201ddid. I still do. Or at least to see them treated well. And with respect. But\u00e2\u20ac\u00a6I know how it is to lose a family now.\u00e2\u20ac\u2122 He knew she was not just talking about her parents. \u00e2\u20ac\u02dcAnd I\u00e2\u20ac\u201d\u00e2\u20ac\u2122 she huffed a little and rolled her eyes at him. \u00e2\u20ac\u02dcI guess I have to admit that I didn’t really have all my facts straight when I started SPEW.\u00e2\u20ac\u2122<\/p>\n

Hermione looked back at Winky who was waiting patiently for their temporary masters to decide what they wanted from her. Severus felt uncomfortably reminded of an abandoned puppy that didn’t know whether to expect beatings or treats.<\/p>\n

\u00e2\u20ac\u02dcHow does it work?\u00e2\u20ac\u2122 Hermione asked in a low voice. \u00e2\u20ac\u02dcDo you know? Would Minerva mind?\u00e2\u20ac\u2122<\/p>\n

He shrugged and shook his head. \u00e2\u20ac\u02dcNo, I’m afraid I don’t. It’s not a situation that occurs very often.\u00e2\u20ac\u2122 Then he sighed, giving in to the inevitable. Actually,<\/em> he thought, that idea is not all that bad. Then someone would be around to take care of Hermione if I don’t\u00e2\u20ac\u201d<\/em><\/p>\n

\u00e2\u20ac\u02dcMinerva won’t mind. There are hundreds of Hogwarts house-elves, and Winky isn’t really a Hogwarts elf to begin with.\u00e2\u20ac\u2122 He turned his attention to the creature before of him.<\/p>\n

\u00e2\u20ac\u02dcWinky,\u00e2\u20ac\u2122 he asked kindly. \u00e2\u20ac\u02dcHow do house-elves acquire a new house and a new family?\u00e2\u20ac\u2122<\/p>\n

Winky’s eyes widened. \u00e2\u20ac\u02dcNeed,\u00e2\u20ac\u2122 she chirped. \u00e2\u20ac\u02dcNeed there must be. By house and family. And oath there must be. Wizard oath and house-elf oath.\u00e2\u20ac\u2122<\/p>\n

Severus raised his eyebrows. He hadn’t expected that adopting a house-elf involved that much ceremony and circumstance. \u00e2\u20ac\u02dcWinky\u00e2\u20ac\u201ddo you think that this house and this family is in need of a house-elf?\u00e2\u20ac\u2122<\/p>\n

That got the elf’s attention. Winky straightened up, power sizzled around her. She cocked her head, brown eyes narrowing as she appeared to listen to something. He felt the idiotic urge to mimic the gesture so he might hear whatever Winky was listening to. \u00e2\u20ac\u02dcYes,\u00e2\u20ac\u2122 the house-elf hummed. \u00e2\u20ac\u02dcIs need. Terrible need. Not enough magic here for this being a wizard-home,\u00e2\u20ac\u2122 she said reproachfully, glaring at him.<\/p>\n

\u00e2\u20ac\u02dcI\u00e2\u20ac\u201d\u00e2\u20ac\u2122 He would be damned if he apologized for the condition of this house to an elf!<\/em><\/p>\n

The house-elf’s ears twitched as she regarded him thoughtfully. \u00e2\u20ac\u02dcYes,\u00e2\u20ac\u2122 she chirruped, and her eyes were huge and soft and sad as she gazed up at him. \u00e2\u20ac\u02dcBig, big need. You give me your oath, I give you mine,\u00e2\u20ac\u2122 she squeaked forcefully. \u00e2\u20ac\u02dcAnd no clothes. Not ever.\u00e2\u20ac\u2122<\/p>\n

It was satisfying to see how Hermione gaped at Winky, dumbstruck at the little elf’s determination.<\/p>\n

Severus awkwardly cleared his throat. \u00e2\u20ac\u02dcNo clothes,\u00e2\u20ac\u2122 he promised. \u00e2\u20ac\u02dcNever, as long as we both shall live.\u00e2\u20ac\u2122 Which might not be all that long where I am concerned,<\/em> he amended silently. \u00e2\u20ac\u02dcHowever,\u00e2\u20ac\u2122 Severus added. \u00e2\u20ac\u02dcHow do you feel about agreeing to a pay of uh<\/em>\u00e2\u20ac\u00a6two Galleons a week? And a day off every fortnight? Just to indulge my wife. I think you know how\u00e2\u20ac\u00a6concerned <\/em>about elfish welfare she is.\u00e2\u20ac\u2122<\/p>\n

The elf growled at that suggestion. But apparently it was not a deal-breaker. The bat-like ears kept twitching, the nose that looked remarkably similar to a tomato in shape and colour wrinkled thoughtfully. At last Winky sighed and rolled her eyes. \u00e2\u20ac\u02dcIf it makes Mistress happy, Winky is happy. Very well. Winky will be house-elf to the grand House of Snape and serve Master Professor Sir and\u00e2\u20ac\u201d\u00e2\u20ac\u2122 She sniffed. \u00e2\u20ac\u02dcMistress Apprentice Madam.\u00e2\u20ac\u2122<\/p>\n

Then she looked expectantly at him. \u00e2\u20ac\u02dcMaster Professor Sir? You take oath first.\u00e2\u20ac\u2122<\/p>\n

<\/p>\n

Happy Christmas!<\/h3>\n

Hermione stared at Severus, her face hot and cold with anger, her stomach quivering with fury. She wondered if this was how volcanoes felt when they are about to erupt. Severus didn’t look very happy with his presents either. His eyes were smouldering at her like burning embers over the rectangular objects on his side of the coffee table. She could tell that he was angry, but she didn’t care. She brandished the scroll like a club.<\/p>\n

\u00e2\u20ac\u02dcHow dare you,\u00e2\u20ac\u2122 she bit out, \u00e2\u20ac\u02dchow dare you?\u00e2\u20ac\u2122 Tears of helpless rage filled her eyes, and she didn’t wait for his reply. \u00e2\u20ac\u02dcHow is it possible that you’re convinced you can save the world all the time?\u00e2\u20ac\u2122 she asked, her voice growing shriller with each word, \u00e2\u20ac\u02dcThat you<\/em> can play double, no, quadruple agent between Voldemort and Dumbledore long enough for Harry to defeat the bastard? And now, that you<\/em> can go beyond the Veil to put an end to that damn leeching curse? And at the same FUCKING time, you’re not only convinced that this will cost you your LIFE, you don’t even seem to CARE whether you live or die! HOW IS THAT POSSIBLE? What the hell is WRONG with you? And now this! You’re giving me this HOUSE for Christmas? That’s absurd! If you really think you can save the world, why can’t you hang on to a little bit of hope for yourself?\u00e2\u20ac\u2122<\/p>\n

\u00e2\u20ac\u02dcAnd what about you?\u00e2\u20ac\u2122 he asked, his voice dangerously quiet. \u00e2\u20ac\u02dcIf I have reason<\/em> to think that I will not live to see my next birthday, do you honestly believe that it’s in good taste to give me a stack of calendars<\/em> for Christmas? To remind me of all that I will lose? The warmth of\u00e2\u20ac\u201d\u00e2\u20ac\u2122 He swallowed hard, his eyes burning. Suddenly the anger appeared to drain out of him. His shoulders slumped. He stared at the beautiful leather-bound diary in his hands. \u00e2\u20ac\u02dcYour warmth,\u00e2\u20ac\u2122 he murmured. \u00e2\u20ac\u02dcMore precious than the warmth of any summer’s day.\u00e2\u20ac\u2122<\/p>\n

He inhaled and looked at her with that bleak, black gaze. \u00e2\u20ac\u02dcDo you have any idea what you do to me? I\u00e2\u20ac\u201dyou know<\/em> that I have to do this. And besides, it’s not only my life that’s on the line, it’s Harry’s just as much, and\u00e2\u20ac\u201dif we fail\u00e2\u20ac\u201dyours, and Alina’s, and that of every other wizard and witch with Muggle blood in Britain. Damn it, Hermione, why do you have to be so stubborn?\u00e2\u20ac\u2122<\/p>\n

\u00e2\u20ac\u02dcBecause I love you.\u00e2\u20ac\u2122<\/p>\n

Romance novels were full of similes of heroines who felt broken-hearted. But those descriptions didn’t really do the experience justice. Hermione felt\u00e2\u20ac\u00a6shattered.<\/em> As if someone had driven a stake right through her middle, as if she were coming apart at the seams. But she could only sit there unmoving, the parchment that only needed her signature in the presence of the local notary on the conveniently for Wednesday morning scheduled appointment in her hands, the silence ringing in her ears.<\/p>\n

\u00e2\u20ac\u02dcFor what it’s worth,\u00e2\u20ac\u2122 Severus murmured after a while, \u00e2\u20ac\u02dcI do not <\/em>want to die. There were times when I did. You know that.<\/em> But now\u00e2\u20ac\u00a6\u00e2\u20ac\u2122 He shook his head, lank hair swirling around his jaws.<\/p>\n

She stared at him. Those black eyes. And unless you were just a few inches away from his face, they were <\/em>black. That fine black hair that kept clinging together like barbs of a feather. That proud hooked nose that for some inconceivable reason was such an expressive<\/em> part of his face. Just like his eyebrows. They could smirk, and sneer, and question, affect surprise or glower evilly\u00e2\u20ac\u00a6as if they wanted to distract from those thin, sensitive lips that could\u00e2\u20ac\u201dat times\u00e2\u20ac\u201dbetray how he really<\/em> felt.<\/p>\n

He’s beautiful,<\/em> she thought. And brilliant and brave. <\/em>He glowered at her, though regretfully now rather than angrily. And ugly.<\/em> She felt a wry grin curl her mouth. As well as difficult and domineering.<\/em><\/p>\n

\u00e2\u20ac\u02dcLet’s go to bed.\u00e2\u20ac\u2122 She laughed at his wild-eyed look. \u00e2\u20ac\u02dcThere’s nothing we can do,\u00e2\u20ac\u2122 she explained softly. I’m not giving up, <\/em>she thought obstinately. It’s just a strategic retreat from\u00e2\u20ac\u00a6<\/em>She closed her eyes for second. The world and all the rest. <\/em>\u00e2\u20ac\u02dcWhat will be, will be.\u00e2\u20ac\u2122 She paused and took a deep breath. \u00e2\u20ac\u02dcI always hated that song,\u00e2\u20ac\u2122 she muttered and was gratified to see the corners of his lips twitch with a smirk. \u00e2\u20ac\u02dcIf there’s nothing we can do,\u00e2\u20ac\u2122 Hermione repeated, \u00e2\u20ac\u02dcI’d much prefer to do nothing<\/em> in a way that allows me to do that\u00e2\u20ac\u00a6nothing<\/em> in a way that\u00e2\u20ac\u00a6makes me feel\u00e2\u20ac\u00a6\u00e2\u20ac\u2122 Heat crept into her cheeks. \u00e2\u20ac\u02dcGood. And\u00e2\u20ac\u00a6\u00e2\u20ac\u2122 She swallowed. \u00e2\u20ac\u02dcClose to you.\u00e2\u20ac\u2122<\/p>\n

oooOooo<\/strong><\/p>\n

\u00e2\u20ac\u02dcDon’t,\u00e2\u20ac\u2122 Hermione pleaded when Severus was about to slide out of her body. \u00e2\u20ac\u02dcPlease. I\u00e2\u20ac\u201dI’d like to feel you just a little longer. Please.\u00e2\u20ac\u2122<\/em><\/p>\n

With a sigh he adjusted his position and remained where he was, smothering her with the pleasant heaviness of his weight, piercing her\u00e2\u20ac\u201dno longer fiercely and demanding, but so she could still feel his presence within her, like an anchor. She wound her arms and legs around him, tears mingling with sweat at the corners of her eyes. For a few precious moments she could believe that nothing in the world would ever be able to separate them.<\/p>\n

\u00e2\u20ac\u02dcI could fall asleep like that,\u00e2\u20ac\u2122 she murmured.<\/p>\n

\u00e2\u20ac\u02dcPerhaps you could. But I<\/em> can’t.\u00e2\u20ac\u2122<\/p>\n

Disregarding her mournful sigh, he withdrew from her and rolled over to lie next to her. But he did gather her in his arms and held her close. Hermione was about to doze off, when she heard the sounds for the first time. A distant scrabbling somewhere above her. She frowned. \u00e2\u20ac\u02dcDid you hear that?\u00e2\u20ac\u2122<\/p>\n

\u00e2\u20ac\u02dcWhat?\u00e2\u20ac\u2122 He yawned.<\/p>\n

\u00e2\u20ac\u02dcI don’t know\u00e2\u20ac\u00a6some kind of scratching. Up in the attic?\u00e2\u20ac\u2122<\/p>\n

He shrugged and tightened his hold on her. \u00e2\u20ac\u02dcMaybe Winky?\u00e2\u20ac\u2122<\/p>\n

\u00e2\u20ac\u02dcBut she’s got the chamber next to the kitchen! Are there rats here?\u00e2\u20ac\u2122<\/p>\n

\u00e2\u20ac\u02dcNot anymore!\u00e2\u20ac\u2122 Severus retorted fiercely. \u00e2\u20ac\u02dcAnd now go to sleep.\u00e2\u20ac\u2122<\/p>\n

<\/p>\n

To Sleep, Perchance to Dream…<\/h3>\n

(Part 1 of \u00e2\u20ac\u0153To Sleep, Perchance to Dream…Alone\u00e2\u20ac\u009d)<\/span><\/h4>\n

Hermione couldn’t sleep.<\/p>\n

That was nothing new. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d had a good night’s sleep, unburdened by existential fears and sorrows. Just to sleep, and perchance to dream\u00e2\u20ac\u00a6<\/em><\/p>\n

But she dozed fitfully, drifting in and out of consciousness, never falling fully asleep, never quite waking. Whenever she grew more aware of herself and the man at her side, she had to force herself not to cling to him as if she was drowning.<\/p>\n

And that was probably what finally woke her in the small hours of morning.<\/p>\n

From one moment to the next she was wide awake. Her heart was racing, her eyes burnt with unshed tears, and her breath came in painful gasps.<\/p>\n

But there was more.<\/p>\n

The soft fabric of bed-clothes washed a hundred times too often caressed sensitive nipples and made them prickle. Gradually, the tingling deepened into a dull throb of desire that pulsed on the verge of pain deep within her breasts. She didn’t have to touch the soft skin between her legs to know that she was wet with need.<\/p>\n

Still there was more.<\/p>\n

That strange, intense longing for those glittering black eyes focused on her. That almost painful desire to sense those thin lips smirking against her throat. This indescribable hunger to feel those crooked teeth lightly nipping at the sensitive skin of her breasts.<\/p>\n

The irresistible urge to feel him<\/em> within her.<\/p>\n

The almost inconceivable, irrational idea that there was really such a thing as \u00e2\u20ac\u02dcthe love of your life\u00e2\u20ac\u2122.<\/em><\/p>\n

She could feel her pulse in her throat. She shuddered, but not because she was cold. She balled her hands into fists to keep from touching him and stroking him, in the hope of waking him, to renewed ardour and desire\u00e2\u20ac\u00a6It must be those days of the month,<\/em> Hermione concluded. The days when nature forces a woman to want, to need; a completely natural desire, a biological drive easily explained. Just the urge to procreate. Nothing more, nothing less. <\/em><\/p>\n

But that safe, rational explanation did not diminish the excruciating, existential need that hummed over her skin and thrummed within her bones.<\/p>\n

How is it possible to need someone like this?<\/em> she wondered. It’s as if I’m an addict, and he’s the only thing that keeps me alive. Oh God, how am I going to exist without him?<\/em><\/p>\n

She was not a spontaneous person. She preferred planning ahead. She was Hermione of the colour-coded timetables.<\/p>\n

But she was no longer that Hermione, that Hermione Granger.<\/p>\n

She was Hermione Snape now.<\/p>\n

And calendars, along with fate, and a foreseeable future didn’t appear to synch well with Severus Snape.<\/p>\n

She sat up, grabbed her nightshirt, drew the fabric up, along her sides, over her arms and head and dropped it next to the bed. Naked, she rolled towards her husband. The sight of his nose of all things made her eyes burn again.<\/p>\n

Instead, she dove for his lips.<\/p>\n

Hermione had anticipated that he’d be awake instantly. She knew him well enough by now to be aware of at least some of his idiosyncrasies.<\/p>\n

She was not prepared for the darkening desire and understanding that glistened in the black depths of his eyes.<\/p>\n

He opened his lips to her and met her tongue with a hunger that matched hers. His hands, those long, clever fingers, found her hips, caressed the edges of bones that stood out too harshly (she would eat more if only she could summon more of an appetite), travelled upwards; waist, stomach, ribs, until he reached her breasts. He cupped them and pressed against them, gently, insistently. He did not tease her nipples but with slow, steady pressure fuelled a need that went far deeper than the delighted squeals that superficial attentions would elicit. Only when she helplessly pushed herself against him, with her whole body now, he inclined his head to\u00e2\u20ac\u201dto\u00e2\u20ac\u201dfeast<\/em> on her breasts, was the verb her dazed brain supplied. There were kisses and teasing teeth and a twirling tongue and always the steady, insistent pressure of his hands, his body against hers\u00e2\u20ac\u00a6<\/p>\n

Still it wasn’t enough.<\/p>\n

She felt him against her stomach, so much hotter than the rest of his body, so much smoother. For a moment she felt forcibly reminded of the silk similes she’d come across in all too many romance novels. They were,<\/em> she decided, not too far off the mark.<\/em><\/p>\n

\u00e2\u20ac\u02dcPlease,\u00e2\u20ac\u2122 she hissed and nudged him with her hips.<\/p>\n

Severus stayed her with a swift slide of calloused palms down her sides onto her hip bones and moved on top of her.<\/p>\n

Without a word he seemed to know what she needed and simply, slowly, slid inside her, deeper and deeper, until he filled her completely, anchored her, sustained her.<\/p>\n

Her head tilted backwards. The sound of her moan drifted back to her in time with his lips.<\/p>\n

Then he started moving within her.<\/p>\n

Deliberately, inexorably.<\/p>\n

He held her. Arms next to hers, hands at her shoulders, fingers pressing into her flesh as he surged into her, withdrew, thrust, slid away\u00e2\u20ac\u00a6<\/p>\n

\u00e2\u20ac\u02dcHarder,\u00e2\u20ac\u2122 she pleaded, her voice so hoarse she barely recognised it.<\/p>\n

\u00e2\u20ac\u02dcHush,\u00e2\u20ac\u2122 he chastised her, the sound so soft, so silky that her skin shivered with goosebumps.<\/p>\n

She arched her body toward him in a silent plea. And to her surprise he gave in, with a deep, guttural grunt, and shoved himself inside her more forcefully. Hermione gasped, winced, but still she wanted more. The slight, sharp edge of pain was perfect\u00e2\u20ac\u201djust enough to make it real, to make her feel alive. Once more sweat mingled with tears. The fusion of their bodies chased away all rational thought. All hope. Every fear.<\/p>\n

His mouth fastened to her collarbone until she felt his teeth. He thrust inside her until she felt his rhythm pounding in her spine.<\/p>\n

Only then it was enough.<\/p>\n

She came in a pulsing wave of mutual need and shared desire.<\/p>\n

\u00e2\u20ac\u02dcThank you,\u00e2\u20ac\u2122 she breathed and\u00e2\u20ac\u201dat long last\u00e2\u20ac\u201dfell asleep.<\/p>\n

oooOooo<\/strong><\/p>\n

\n

oooOooo<\/strong><\/p>\n

\u00e2\u20ac\u00a6Alone<\/h3>\n

The tears came while she was dreaming, although it wasn’t much of a dream. She was walking through a landscape of dull white clouds. That was all. There were no monsters, no Death Eaters, no snakes, and no screams.<\/p>\n

She was alone in the fog.<\/p>\n

That was all.<\/p>\n

oooOooo<\/strong><\/p>\n

\u00e2\u20ac\u02dcHermione,\u00e2\u20ac\u2122 a warm voice murmured into her ear. \u00e2\u20ac\u02dcHermione, wake up! It’s just a dream. Shhh, wake up.\u00e2\u20ac\u2122<\/p>\n

Gentle fingers stroked over her cheeks, and she blinked her eyes open. Severus’ hand curled around her jaw, his fingertips tenderly smoothing away the wetness of her tears. His eyes were bright. For once she could glimpse a subtle difference between iris and pupil. His hair clung to his skull, sleek and dishevelled. The dark stubble of beard smudged his pale skin.<\/p>\n

\u00e2\u20ac\u02dcIt was just a dream,\u00e2\u20ac\u2122 he repeated. His hand drifted over her face, down to her chin. His thumb rubbed softly over her lower lip.<\/p>\n

\u00e2\u20ac\u02dcI know,\u00e2\u20ac\u2122 she whispered. \u00e2\u20ac\u02dcI’m awake now.\u00e2\u20ac\u2122<\/p>\n

\u00e2\u20ac\u02dcGood.\u00e2\u20ac\u2122 Wrapping an arm around her, he lay back and drew her closer to his body, until she was curled up in the crook of his arm. His other hand wandered back to her, tracing the outline of her face, playing with her curls. \u00e2\u20ac\u02dcWhat was the dream about?\u00e2\u20ac\u2122<\/p>\n

Hermione frowned and squinted her eyes. Then she shook her head a little, a movement that allowed her to draw her cheek over his chest and inhale the warm scent of his body. \u00e2\u20ac\u02dcI’m not sure. It wasn’t even a nightmare. Not really.\u00e2\u20ac\u2122<\/p>\n

\u00e2\u20ac\u02dcBut you were crying.\u00e2\u20ac\u2122<\/p>\n

She buried her face in the soft fabric of his nightshirt. \u00e2\u20ac\u02dcI was alone in that dream.\u00e2\u20ac\u2122<\/p>\n

Severus tightened his hold on her. She could feel his sigh. It flowed through his body, his arms, right into her.<\/p>\n

\u00e2\u20ac\u02dcOne way or another,\u00e2\u20ac\u2122 he promised. \u00e2\u20ac\u02dcI will come back.\u00e2\u20ac\u2122<\/p>\n

oooOooo<\/strong><\/p>\n

She didn’t say how that wasn’t enough for her.<\/p>\n

oooOooo<\/strong><\/p>\n

\u00e2\u20ac\u02dcHow was it to grow up here?\u00e2\u20ac\u2122 Hermione asked. \u00e2\u20ac\u02dcYou know almost everything there is to know about me. But even though we’ve been married for months, I don’t really know all that much about you. Except for the things we rehearsed for the trial. And that was a bit\u00e2\u20ac\u00a6technical. Like swotting for an exam.\u00e2\u20ac\u2122<\/p>\n

From the corner of her eye she saw his thin lips twitch into a grin. \u00e2\u20ac\u02dcHermione, the professional bookworm of Hogwarts, complaining about an exam situation?\u00e2\u20ac\u2122<\/p>\n

Another sigh. His hand abandoned her curls, and he laid his forearm over his brows, shielding his eyes. She bit down on her lip, exasperated at herself for destroying the mellow mood of the morning. \u00e2\u20ac\u02dcI’m sorry, Severus. I\u00e2\u20ac\u00a6from the memories you gave Harry\u00e2\u20ac\u201dI guess that is not a particularly pleasant topic for you. I shouldn’t have asked.\u00e2\u20ac\u2122<\/p>\n

\u00e2\u20ac\u02dcHmpf.\u00e2\u20ac\u2122 The arm moved, and Severus irritably smoothed his hair away from his face. \u00e2\u20ac\u02dcNo. You’re right, I don’t like to talk about\u00e2\u20ac\u00a6my childhood. My life.\u00e2\u20ac\u2122 She propped herself up on an elbow in time to see a wry smile tug at his mouth. \u00e2\u20ac\u02dcMyself.\u00e2\u20ac\u2122 He regarded her calmly, his eyes completely black again and inscrutable. Again his hand came up to stroke her curls. \u00e2\u20ac\u02dcBut you have the right to ask me unpleasant questions. And Lois insists that it would do me good to talk about my past.\u00e2\u20ac\u2122<\/p>\n

\u00e2\u20ac\u02dcIt’s a Muggle thing,\u00e2\u20ac\u2122 Hermione explained. \u00e2\u20ac\u02dcPsychologists believe that getting things off your mind helps.\u00e2\u20ac\u2122<\/p>\n

\u00e2\u20ac\u02dcNot only psychologists,\u00e2\u20ac\u2122 he commented, hooking his index-finger through a particularly long and tangled corkscrew-curl. \u00e2\u20ac\u02dcThe Church, too. That’s how confession works.\u00e2\u20ac\u2122<\/p>\n

\u00e2\u20ac\u02dcAbb\u00c3\u00a9 Rigaud.\u00e2\u20ac\u2122<\/p>\n

\u00e2\u20ac\u02dcHmmm.\u00e2\u20ac\u2122<\/p>\n

Hermione shifted until she lay next to Severus. She knew that he preferred to have lots of personal space to think. But this morning he surprised her by drawing her back into his embrace.<\/p>\n

\u00e2\u20ac\u02dcWell, you already know that my mother was a witch and my father a Muggle.\u00e2\u20ac\u2122<\/p>\n

\u00e2\u20ac\u02dcAnd<\/em> that your mother’s mother was a Muggle, too.\u00e2\u20ac\u2122<\/p>\n

\u00e2\u20ac\u02dcYou remember that?\u00e2\u20ac\u2122 He sounded surprised.<\/p>\n

She nodded, rubbing her nose against him.<\/p>\n

\u00e2\u20ac\u02dcNo tickling!\u00e2\u20ac\u2122<\/p>\n

She grinned. \u00e2\u20ac\u02dcYou told me on our wedding day. When we talked about the symbolism of the flowers. Is that book still here?\u00e2\u20ac\u2122<\/p>\n

\u00e2\u20ac\u02dcIt should be.\u00e2\u20ac\u2122 He took a deep breath. \u00e2\u20ac\u02dcWell. As I said, my mother’s mother, Abigayle Foster, was a Muggle. The illegitimate daughter of the factory-manager. Apparently he had a soft spot for her as she was his only daughter, born late in his life. An old man’s folly.\u00e2\u20ac\u2122<\/p>\n

Hearing the self-deprecating smirk in Severus’ words, Hermione raised her head and frowned at her husband. \u00e2\u20ac\u02dcYou<\/em> aren’t old.\u00e2\u20ac\u2122<\/p>\n

\u00e2\u20ac\u02dcAlmost twenty years older than you are, little one.\u00e2\u20ac\u2122 He had the nerve to tap the tip of her nose with his index-finger. \u00e2\u20ac\u02dcAmong Muggles that’s enough to make me a fool.\u00e2\u20ac\u2122<\/p>\n

\u00e2\u20ac\u02dcWe’re not Muggles,\u00e2\u20ac\u2122 Hermione protested. \u00e2\u20ac\u02dcAnd besides, it was my idea.\u00e2\u20ac\u2122<\/p>\n

\u00e2\u20ac\u02dcIndeed.<\/p>\n

\u00e2\u20ac\u02dcFool or not, at least my great-grandfather took care of Abigayle as far as it was possible in those days. Eventually, she married\u00e2\u20ac\u201das you may have guessed\u00e2\u20ac\u201da wizard. However, she died giving birth to my mother. And her husband soon followed her.<\/p>\n

\u00e2\u20ac\u02dcMy great-grandfather tried to do right by his granddaughter. He must have known that his daughter’s husband was a wizard. He may even have suspected that Eileen would be a witch, too. Maybe there was some manifestation of magic at her birth. Traumatic events can cause such things even that early in life.<\/p>\n

\u00e2\u20ac\u02dcAs my mother’s Muggle grandmother had also died, my great-grandfather asked the parents of my mother’s father to move here. Being wizards, they were still healthy and hale at their advanced age. They were given a small house on the grounds of the mill. Officially, my grandfather’s father was employed as caretaker. But the point was to provide a home and parents for my mother.\u00e2\u20ac\u2122<\/p>\n

\u00e2\u20ac\u02dcAnd your father?\u00e2\u20ac\u2122<\/p>\n

\u00e2\u20ac\u02dcHe worked at the mill.\u00e2\u20ac\u2122 Severus stiffened, relaxed again. Obviously, his father was a difficult topic for him. \u00e2\u20ac\u02dcHe was a smart man. I’m still not sure if he was too smart, or not smart enough in the end.\u00e2\u20ac\u2122<\/p>\n

<\/p>\n

Debris of Forgotten Years<\/h3>\n

\u00e2\u20ac\u02dcHe figured out that my mother was a witch, you see.\u00e2\u20ac\u2122<\/p>\n

\u00e2\u20ac\u02dcThen he didn’t mind that she was a witch?\u00e2\u20ac\u2122 Somehow, from the bits and pieces of Severus’ memories that were publicly displayed, she’d assumed\u00e2\u20ac\u00a6<\/p>\n

\u00e2\u20ac\u02dcYes and no. He was raised a strict Protestant, and I believe that in spite of loving my mother, he never stopped thinking that magic is\u00e2\u20ac\u00a6evil<\/em>. He definitely didn’t approve of \u00e2\u20ac\u02dcfoolish wand waving\u00e2\u20ac\u2122.<\/em> Magic should be reserved for \u00e2\u20ac\u02dcimportant things\u00e2\u20ac\u2122,<\/em> he always said. Not be squandered on personal comfort.<\/p>\n

\u00e2\u20ac\u02dcHe didn’t like the magical adaptations made in the house\u00e2\u20ac\u201denlarging the rooms on the inside, putting in the Aga, the bathroom. But all of those were gifts from my great-grandparents. He couldn’t refuse them.\u00e2\u20ac\u2122<\/p>\n

\u00e2\u20ac\u02dcSo they did love each other, your parents?\u00e2\u20ac\u2122<\/p>\n

\u00e2\u20ac\u02dcI think so. Once, at least.\u00e2\u20ac\u2122 Severus absentmindedly trailed his index-finger over his lips. \u00e2\u20ac\u02dcMy mother’s grandparents were poor, but kind. Or at least that’s how I remember them. I don’t think they’d have forced her to marry someone she didn’t love.\u00e2\u20ac\u2122<\/p>\n

Hermione sat up. When she took Severus’ hand and drew it towards her, he didn’t protest, but linked his fingers with hers. \u00e2\u20ac\u02dcWhat went wrong?\u00e2\u20ac\u2122 she asked.<\/p>\n

\u00e2\u20ac\u02dcPerceptive as ever.\u00e2\u20ac\u2122 For a while he was silent. \u00e2\u20ac\u02dcNothing. Everything.\u00e2\u20ac\u2122<\/p>\n

Suddenly Hermione thought that she heard some kind of strange scratching noises from above the bedroom again. But before she could say anything, Severus went on speaking, and she didn’t dare to interrupt him.<\/p>\n

\u00e2\u20ac\u02dcWhen it came to those \u00e2\u20ac\u0153important things\u00e2\u20ac\u009d,<\/em> it turned out that magic was not enough. And that<\/em> in turn, was more than enough to destroy whatever there was between my parents.\u00e2\u20ac\u2122 He sighed. \u00e2\u20ac\u02dcMagic wasn’t enough to keep the ramshackle machinery of the mill from falling apart. It wasn’t enough to save the life of my father’s best mate when a belt snapped and threw him against a carding machine. Magic didn’t keep the mill from bankruptcy, and it didn’t provide a new job for my father. Or enough beer to drown his discontent. And last but not least, it didn’t keep my mother from dying of cancer while I was away at school.\u00e2\u20ac\u2122<\/p>\n

\u00e2\u20ac\u02dcI’m sorry.\u00e2\u20ac\u2122 She thought of her own parents, of the easy harmony that had always existed between them, of her comparatively carefree childhood.<\/p>\n

\u00e2\u20ac\u02dcDon’t be,\u00e2\u20ac\u2122 Severus told her in a gruff voice. \u00e2\u20ac\u02dcI may not have had a happy childhood, but it was not as bad as it could have been. Growing up in Spinner’s End, I was quite aware of how much worse<\/em> family life could be. And for a few years, I had my great-grandparents and their house. My very own magic kingdom.\u00e2\u20ac\u2122 A wistful smile softened his features. \u00e2\u20ac\u02dcI used to dress up as a wizard. I had an old black coat, a hand-me-down from my father. I thought it looked like a robe. In truth it was only huge and shabby. And\u00e2\u20ac\u00a6\u00e2\u20ac\u2122 He shook his head. \u00e2\u20ac\u02dcI think originally it must have been some kind of frilly Victorian blouse. But it reminded me of my great-grandfather’s dressrobes, right down to that dusty smell of lavender.\u00e2\u20ac\u2122 He raised an amused eyebrow at Hermione. \u00e2\u20ac\u02dcHis dressrobes looked very much like the monstrosity Weasley wore for the ball of the Triwizard Tournament.<\/p>\n

\u00e2\u20ac\u02dcBut I loved them all the same.\u00e2\u20ac\u2122<\/p>\n

\u00e2\u20ac\u02dcYou remember such details about that ball?\u00e2\u20ac\u2122 Hermione goggled.<\/p>\n

\u00e2\u20ac\u02dcOf course.\u00e2\u20ac\u2122 Severus smirked. \u00e2\u20ac\u02dcIncluding your dress and\u00e2\u20ac\u201d\u00e2\u20ac\u2122 She fidgeted, discomfited.<\/p>\n

\u00e2\u20ac\u02dcHush, don’t worry.\u00e2\u20ac\u2122 He raised his hand and stroked back a lock of her hair. \u00e2\u20ac\u02dcI was charged with watching out for Po\u00e2\u20ac\u201dfor Harry. So by default, I ended up keeping an eye on all three<\/em> of you.\u00e2\u20ac\u2122<\/p>\n

\u00e2\u20ac\u02dcOh. Hmm.\u00e2\u20ac\u2122 She sucked in her lower lip. Rolling her eyes at him, she added, \u00e2\u20ac\u02dcThat only goes to show how much more<\/em> you know about me<\/em> than I do about you<\/em>. No fair.\u00e2\u20ac\u2122 But then she smiled. \u00e2\u20ac\u02dcSo you liked dressing up as a wizard? That’s cute.\u00e2\u20ac\u2122<\/p>\n

Predictably, he grimaced at her choice of words. When something occurred to her, Hermione spoke without thinking: \u00e2\u20ac\u02dcWait, wasn’t that in the Memories? I think I remember a scene in which you were about nine, when you first met Lily\u00e2\u20ac\u00a6\u00e2\u20ac\u2122 She trailed off, her cheeks burning. The vein at his temple pulsed at a sudden surge of emotion, and his expression hardened. Talking about Severus’ past was walking through a minefield.<\/p>\n

At last he simply nodded and replied, \u00e2\u20ac\u02dcThough that first meeting did not work out the way I’d planned it, the way I’d imagined it\u00e2\u20ac\u201dbut what in my life ever did?\u00e2\u20ac\u201dit was still one of my happiest memories for a long time.\u00e2\u20ac\u2122<\/p>\n

\u00e2\u20ac\u02dcWhat happened to your great-grandparents? And to your father?\u00e2\u20ac\u2122<\/p>\n

\u00e2\u20ac\u02dcWhat do you think happened?\u00e2\u20ac\u2122 he snapped, suddenly impatient. \u00e2\u20ac\u02dcThey died. By the time I went to Hogwarts my great-grandparents were old even by wizard standards. They died during the winter of my second year. My mother died the summer between my third and my fourth year at Hogwarts. My father\u00e2\u20ac\u00a6\u00e2\u20ac\u2122<\/p>\n

\u00e2\u20ac\u02dcWhat about your father?\u00e2\u20ac\u2122<\/p>\n

\u00e2\u20ac\u02dcDied in a nursing home in the summer before you started at Hogwarts. There\u00e2\u20ac\u201dnow you know all about my childhood. Are you happy now?\u00e2\u20ac\u2122<\/p>\n

\u00e2\u20ac\u02dcI\u00e2\u20ac\u201d\u00e2\u20ac\u2122 Hermione frowned. \u00e2\u20ac\u02dcI\u00e2\u20ac\u201dWhy are you suddenly so angry?\u00e2\u20ac\u2122<\/p>\n

\"A<\/p>\n

Severus rubbed his hands across his face. Then he pushed himself into a sitting position and scowled at Hermione. \u00e2\u20ac\u02dcI didn’t mean to snap at you. I simply prefer not to remember my childhood. I haven’t thought about it in a very long time. And I’ve never talked<\/em> about it before.\u00e2\u20ac\u2122 He took a deep breath. \u00e2\u20ac\u02dcAt first I was alone, the only wizard’s child in an all-Muggle neighbourhood\u00e2\u20ac\u201dand then, at Hogwarts, I was quickly made aware just how pathetic my upbringing was.\u00e2\u20ac\u2122<\/p>\n

\u00e2\u20ac\u02dcI’m sorry,\u00e2\u20ac\u2122 she repeated softly.<\/p>\n

A rapid scratching cut through the silence, followed by a muffled thump.<\/p>\n

This time, Severus heard the noise, too.<\/p>\n

Wand in hand, he catapulted from the bed. \u00e2\u20ac\u02dcStay where you are!\u00e2\u20ac\u2122 he ordered and ran from the room.<\/p>\n

<\/p>\n

No Roast for Luncheon; Poor Winky<\/h3>\n

Severus’ footsteps pounded the rickety stairs that went up to the attic before Hermione had a chance to blink.<\/p>\n

\u00e2\u20ac\u02dcBloody hell,\u00e2\u20ac\u2122 she swore, grabbed her wand and rolled from the bed. Barefoot, she sprinted up the creaking stairs, rushed through the door and bowled straight into Severus’ back.<\/p>\n

\u00e2\u20ac\u02dcI told you to stay where you are,\u00e2\u20ac\u2122 he ground out. \u00e2\u20ac\u02dcAt least keep back, for Merlin’s sake.\u00e2\u20ac\u2122<\/p>\n

Severus was pointing his wand at a large wooden crate in the middle of the floor. It had the Hogwarts seal attached to it. A smoky scent of myrrh and cinnamon wafted through the air. The box wobbled. Sounds of frantic scratching issued from within, followed by an indignant squawk.<\/p>\n

Hermione remained behind Severus but did her best to bend far enough around him to peer at the mysterious box. The writing that adorned the top was strangely familiar. She felt the overwhelming urge to rub her eyes in disbelief.<\/p>\n

\u00e2\u20ac\u02dcSeverus\u00e2\u20ac\u201dthe writing on the box\u00e2\u20ac\u00a6am I seeing things, or is that Dumbledore’s handwriting?\u00e2\u20ac\u2122<\/p>\n

Her words had a profound effect on her husband. The tension drained from him with a gasp, and his wand-hand started shaking. Hermione bit down on her lips and stepped around him, her eyes focused on the crate, her wand aimed and at the ready. Just because she thought that she recognised the writing on the box as Dumbledore’s didn’t mean that the box or its contents were harmless.<\/p>\n

\u00e2\u20ac\u02dcI take it that this box wasn’t here when you came up here the last time?\u00e2\u20ac\u2122 she asked calmly.<\/p>\n

\u00e2\u20ac\u02dcYou have an amazing talent for stating the obvious.\u00e2\u20ac\u2122 He inhaled deeply. \u00e2\u20ac\u02dcWinky!\u00e2\u20ac\u2122 he called out.<\/p>\n

An eager little POP! heralded the prompt arrival of the house-elf.<\/p>\n

\u00e2\u20ac\u02dcMaster Professor Sir?\u00e2\u20ac\u2122<\/p>\n

\u00e2\u20ac\u02dcCan you\u00e2\u20ac\u201dcan you tell me anything about this box over there?\u00e2\u20ac\u2122<\/p>\n

\u00e2\u20ac\u02dcYes, Master Professor Sir. Of course, Master Professor Sir. Box of birch wood is made. Is long exactly one foot and eleven inches. Is wide same as long. Is high two feet and six point four inches. Is weighing\u00e2\u20ac\u201d\u00e2\u20ac\u2122<\/p>\n

\u00e2\u20ac\u02dcDo you know anything about how it got here? Or what’s in it?\u00e2\u20ac\u2122 Severus interrupted the house-elf’s monologue.<\/p>\n

\u00e2\u20ac\u02dcMaster Professor Sir, Headmistress of Hogwarts School for Witchcraft and Wizardry, Professor McGonagall, is asking house-elves to take care of Master Professor Sir’s house. Professor McGonagall is asking Winky to take box to house. And to keep box safe for Master Professor Sir. Attic is being full of boxes. So Winky is putting box in attic. So it has company of other boxes, Master Professor Sir.\u00e2\u20ac\u2122<\/p>\n

The house-elf screwed up her small, wrinkly face. \u00e2\u20ac\u02dcBut Winky is not sure if attic is safe for box now, Master Professor Sir. Winky has already needed to put out fire in box three<\/em> times.\u00e2\u20ac\u2122 She scowled at the crate. Then she turned her large eyes up to Severus. \u00e2\u20ac\u02dcIs bad bird in box, Master Professor Sir. Very bad bird. Making nice box burn, Master. Maybe Winky could roast bird? Make nice luncheon. Then box would be safe.\u00e2\u20ac\u2122<\/p>\n

Hermione’s thoughts raced. A mysterious box? With Dumbledore’s writing on it? And Winky wanted to serve a bad bird<\/em> as a roast for luncheon because it was setting fire to the nice box?<\/p>\n

\u00e2\u20ac\u02dcBut that’s impossible,\u00e2\u20ac\u2122 she gasped. \u00e2\u20ac\u02dcFawkes is gone! He disappeared at the burial. Minerva said that he wouldn’t come back\u00e2\u20ac\u201d\u00e2\u20ac\u2122<\/p>\n

\u00e2\u20ac\u02dcStand back,\u00e2\u20ac\u2122 Severus said. \u00e2\u20ac\u02dcI’ll open it.\u00e2\u20ac\u2122<\/p>\n

\u00e2\u20ac\u02dcJust like that?\u00e2\u20ac\u2122<\/p>\n

He raised an eyebrow at her. \u00e2\u20ac\u02dcYes, just like that. No, of course not, silly. Wand ready?\u00e2\u20ac\u2122<\/p>\n

\u00e2\u20ac\u02dcYes, sir,\u00e2\u20ac\u2122 she replied promptly and moved into the proper duelling stance, feet firmly planted, her wand pointed at the box.<\/p>\n

She never heard the spell he used to open the box.<\/p>\n

The box split at the seams and the front cover fell down with a solid thump. A cloud of grey smoke that smelled intensely of myrrh and cinnamon billowed from the inside, obscuring her sight. Her fingers tightened around her wand.<\/p>\n

Severus must have used another silent spell to get rid of the smoke because from one moment to the next, the smoke was gone, leaving the air clear and fresh, and their sight of the box unobscured.<\/p>\n

On a nest that, as Hermione dimly recognised, was made up of cinnamon bark, spikenard and myrrh twigs, in the middle of the broken remains of a resinous looking, yellowish egg, sat a young bird of exquisite purple plumage. Its golden beak was rather too large for the size of its body. And it looked rather disgruntled, the feathers distinctly ruffled.<\/p>\n

Now it cocked its head to the side and gazed at them with luminous golden eyes.<\/p>\n

\u00e2\u20ac\u02dcCheep?\u00e2\u20ac\u2122<\/em><\/p>\n

\u00e2\u20ac\u02dcThat’s not Fawkes,\u00e2\u20ac\u2122 Hermione managed.<\/p>\n

\u00e2\u20ac\u02dcBut it certainly looks like a phoenix,\u00e2\u20ac\u2122 she added.<\/p>\n

\u00e2\u20ac\u02dcI can see that myself,\u00e2\u20ac\u2122 Severus snapped and stowed his wand in the wand-pocket of his pyjama bottoms. \u00e2\u20ac\u02dcWinky, I need a bowl with fresh herbs in the living room. Rosemary, thyme, parsley, and such.\u00e2\u20ac\u2122<\/p>\n

\u00e2\u20ac\u02dcYes, Master Professor Sir.\u00e2\u20ac\u2122 With a soft pop, the house-elf vanished.<\/p>\n

Severus knelt down in front of the bird. \u00e2\u20ac\u02dcI’m sorry that I wasn’t here when you broke the shell, little one,\u00e2\u20ac\u2122 he murmured. His voice was curiously gentle, and for a second Hermione experienced a wholly irrational stab of jealousy.<\/p>\n

\u00e2\u20ac\u02dcCheep,\u00e2\u20ac\u2122 the bird repeated and fluttered its wings.<\/p>\n

Severus bent down and offered his forearm to the nestling. \u00e2\u20ac\u02dcWould you like to leave your nest?\u00e2\u20ac\u2122<\/p>\n

The young phoenix appeared to consider the question. Finally it fluffed up its feathers and awkwardly hopped forward onto Severus’ arm. With slow, careful movements, so he wouldn’t unbalance the bird, Severus rocked back on his heels and rose to his feet. An expression of stunned disbelief on his face, he turned to Hermione. \u00e2\u20ac\u02dcCould you\u00e2\u20ac\u00a6search the box? If there’s a note, a letter\u00e2\u20ac\u201dsomething? I should take\u00e2\u20ac\u201d\u00e2\u20ac\u2122 He narrowed his eyes at the plumage of the bird and the tell-tale blue feathers in its tail. \u00e2\u20ac\u02dc\u00e2\u20ac\u201dher<\/em> down to the living room. She has to be very hungry.\u00e2\u20ac\u2122<\/p>\n

<\/p>\n

Defying Fortune’s Spite<\/h3>\n

When Hermione entered the living room, the phoenix perched on a shiny mahogany stand, her head buried in a metal bowl filled with fragrant herbs. The room was silent except for the tinkling sounds of beak hitting bowl with swift, hungry pecks.<\/p>\n

Severus sat in one of the shabby wingback chairs, watching the bird.<\/p>\n

\u00e2\u20ac\u02dcDid you find anything?\u00e2\u20ac\u2122 he asked without turning.<\/p>\n

\u00e2\u20ac\u02dcNo,\u00e2\u20ac\u2122 Hermione replied. \u00e2\u20ac\u02dcI’m sorry. There’s nothing. Just the nest, bits of shell, a few down-feathers. And the writing on the box. \u00e2\u20ac\u0153To be delivered to Professor Severus Snape on Christmas Eve in the year 2000.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d <\/em>It’s definitely Professor Dumbledore’s handwriting. But\u00e2\u20ac\u00a6I don’t understand! Why? How?\u00e2\u20ac\u2122<\/em><\/p>\n

She sat down in the other chair, looking back and forth between the phoenix and her husband.<\/p>\n

\u00e2\u20ac\u02dcAn egg of the right age and timed warming charms, I assume,\u00e2\u20ac\u2122 Severus said, his gaze still riveted on the bird.<\/p>\n

\u00e2\u20ac\u02dcOf course,\u00e2\u20ac\u2122 Hermione breathed.<\/p>\n

He knew without looking how her nose wrinkled now, and how her teeth bit down on her lower lip, tell-tale signs of Hermione cataloguing all she knew about phoenixes in her mind. She could probably see the relevant pages of \u00e2\u20ac\u02dcThe Secret Lives of Fantastic Beasts<\/em>\u00e2\u20ac\u201dAdvanced Studies of Magical Creatures\u00e2\u20ac\u2122<\/em> by Newt Scamander in her mind just as clearly as if the book lay open on the table.<\/p>\n

\u00e2\u20ac\u02dcThe egg of a phoenix needs 1,461 days to mature,\u00e2\u20ac\u2122 she began. \u00e2\u20ac\u02dcThey hatch around Christmas. The breaking of the shell is actually triggered by winter solstice. But that date was close enough to Christmas for Christianity to appropriate the symbolism of birth and rebirth for its own purposes\u00e2\u20ac\u201d\u00e2\u20ac\u2122<\/p>\n

\u00e2\u20ac\u02dcHermione. I’m quite aware of the basic facts pertaining to the species. I don’t need you to recite your NEWT textbooks.\u00e2\u20ac\u2122<\/p>\n

\u00e2\u20ac\u02dcOh. Sorry.\u00e2\u20ac\u2122<\/p>\n

He winced at the sting of his words. She was only nervous.<\/p>\n

\u00e2\u20ac\u02dcAs for why\u00e2\u20ac\u201d\u00e2\u20ac\u2122 His voice sounded scratchy. Before he could clear his throat, Hermione had already Conjured a glass of water for him. Frowning, Severus accepted the glass and sipped. Lois would be pleased if she knew that he still kept up her regimen to reduce the stress on his vocal chords.<\/p>\n

At last he put down the glass and forced himself to face Hermione.<\/p>\n

Why was this so difficult? She knew him at his most vulnerable\u00e2\u20ac\u201dnaked, sheathed within her body. She knew his very heart, damn it.<\/em><\/p>\n

At the same time, he was forced to agree with her assessment of their situation, the way she had voiced it yesterday: she didn’t really know all that much about him.<\/em><\/p>\n

While he had always known many details of her life at Hogwarts (both irrelevant and important)\u00e2\u20ac\u201dsuch as her school files (grades, awards, and detentions; the exact date of her menarche), or such highs and lows of her adolescence as her flirt with Viktor Krum, or her rather unique boggart\u00e2\u20ac\u201dshe had no such knowledge of him.<\/p>\n

She knew at once too much (those damn<\/em> memories!), and too little of him. Yet\u00e2\u20ac\u00a6She was <\/em>a Gryffindor. She made up for that lack of knowledge with brash curiosity and stubborn insistence. She was also very much a woman: She balanced out what she didn’t know with an almost uncanny perceptiveness. And she was his wife. She accepted him like no one ever had before. If he chose to remain silent, she would likely accept that, too.<\/p>\n

But, he frowned, somehow that didn’t seem right.<\/p>\n

And this morning\u00e2\u20ac\u00a6talking to her, telling her about his childhood, had felt\u00e2\u20ac\u00a6less awkward<\/em> than he had feared. Almost comfortable.<\/p>\n

He picked up the glass again and took another sip. Turning it around in his hands, he guessed that it had started life as a thimble. Small enough to carry around in a shirt-pocket, its material sturdy enough to withstand multiple Transfigurations. She must have done something to the \u00e2\u20ac\u02dcAguamenti\u00e2\u20ac\u2122<\/em> spell, though. This water tasted like Evian, not like the rather tepid mess the spell normally produced.<\/p>\n

\u00e2\u20ac\u02dcAs for why,\u00e2\u20ac\u2122 he repeated and raised his head to meet her gaze. Her brown eyes were warm and calm. She was waiting patiently for him to speak. Only the way she sat betrayed a certain tension\u00e2\u20ac\u201dperched and poised, not curled up against the back of the chair like a relaxed kitten.<\/p>\n

\u00e2\u20ac\u02dcI don’t know,\u00e2\u20ac\u2122 he went on, his voice soft, the effort it took him to keep calm and composed inaudible. \u00e2\u20ac\u02dcBut I imagine it might be Dumbledore’s way to answer a question I asked him once. At that time\u00e2\u20ac\u00a6he threw the question back into my face.\u00e2\u20ac\u2122<\/p>\n

He swallowed painfully and looked into her eyes again, willing her to remember what she must have witnessed when his memories were displayed at the trial. He was not disappointed. Her breath hitched, her lips fluttered with a gasp.<\/p>\n

\u00e2\u20ac\u02dcYour soul,\u00e2\u20ac\u2122 she whispered and raised a shaking hand to her lips. At another time he would have felt humiliated by the tears shimmering in her eyes.<\/p>\n

But as he found that he had to blink quickly himself to keep his burning eyes from betraying him, he let it go.<\/p>\n

oooOooo<\/strong><\/p>\n

\u00e2\u20ac\u02dcYou can tell Weasley that Miss Petrel can bring her Jarvey. I trust that she has taught him to behave.\u00e2\u20ac\u2122<\/p>\n

Hermione, who’d been about to Floo-call the Burrow, sat back on her heels and looked at Severus over her shoulder. \u00e2\u20ac\u02dcAlina has a Jarvey? I didn’t know that. Aren’t only toads, cats, and owls permitted as pets?\u00e2\u20ac\u2122<\/p>\n

\u00e2\u20ac\u02dcWhich didn’t keep Weasley from bringing a rat,\u00e2\u20ac\u2122 Severus replied dryly. \u00e2\u20ac\u02dcOr Miss Petrel from acquiring an orphaned Jarvey from Hagrid.\u00e2\u20ac\u2122<\/p>\n

\u00e2\u20ac\u02dcWhy am I not surprised?\u00e2\u20ac\u2122 Hermione muttered. Then: \u00e2\u20ac\u02dcBut how do you<\/em> know about that?\u00e2\u20ac\u2122<\/p>\n

Severus smirked. \u00e2\u20ac\u02dcHouse-elves.\u00e2\u20ac\u2122<\/p>\n

\u00e2\u20ac\u02dcHouse-elves?\u00e2\u20ac\u2122 She blinked once, twice\u00e2\u20ac\u201dthen an uncomfortable thought struck her. \u00e2\u20ac\u02dcThe house-elves are spying<\/em> on the students?\u00e2\u20ac\u2122<\/p>\n

His lips twitched. \u00e2\u20ac\u02dcSadly not all<\/em> house-elves. But the Slytherin house-elves most certainly do. I dare say it would have been easier to keep an eye on you and your dunderheaded friends if Minerva had agreed to adopt my methods\u00e2\u20ac\u00a6\u00e2\u20ac\u2122<\/p>\n

<\/p>\n

Boxing Day at Spinner’s End<\/h3>\n

As a little kid, Boxing Day had always been Ron’s favourite holiday. There were presents. There was good food, and even shop-bought sweets. His older brothers were home for the hols.<\/p>\n

But most of all, it was the day of the Boxing Day Quidditch matches. Much like the Muggle world with its football matches on Boxing Day, the wizarding world celebrated the day with sports events. For years he’d dreamt of being able to afford a ticket for a match of his favourite teams. The Chudley Cannons, of course. But he wouldn’t have objected to seeing the Wimbourne Wasps. Or Puddlemere United. Or\u00e2\u20ac\u00a6he felt his Adam’s apple bob with dry-mouthed appreciation\u00e2\u20ac\u201dthe Holyhead Harpies. Not that there was anything wrong with walking over to Ottery St. Catchpole or Stoatsbutt-in-the-Wood and watch the local teams, of course. Quidditch was Quidditch, after all.<\/p>\n

He stared at his freshly shaved face in the mirror and shook his head.<\/p>\n

Today, on Boxing Day 2000, he had finally saved enough money to actually go see the Chudley Cannons. He actually had put aside enough money to invite his brothers and sister to accompany him. Of course if<\/em> he did that, nothing would be left of his savings. But the important thing was that his dream of the perfect Boxing Day could<\/em> come true.<\/p>\n

So what the heck was he doing right now, getting ready to spend Boxing Day with his least favourite person on earth?<\/p>\n

It just might have something to do with the fact that his two favourite women were currently ensconced in the second bathroom, primping for his least favourite person on earth who just happened to rank very high on the list of his women’s list of their favourite persons on earth. And when had Hermione turned into merely his third<\/em> favourite woman?<\/p>\n

And come to that<\/em>\u00e2\u20ac\u00a6when had Snape stopped being his least favourite person on earth?<\/p>\n

He scowled at his reflection.<\/p>\n

\u00e2\u20ac\u02dcReally, dear, don’t you think a smile is more appropriate for the merry season?\u00e2\u20ac\u2122 tuttuted the mirror.<\/p>\n

oooOooo<\/strong><\/p>\n

Ron scowled at the Muggle photograph that Hermione had sent him so he could Apparate to Spinner’s End safely. Then he smiled at the petite dark-haired woman in his arm, and at the impish teenaged-girl holding his right hand and twirling a spontaneous dance figure.<\/p>\n

\u00e2\u20ac\u02dcStop that, Alina. Your mother will kill me if I splinch you. Snape will hex me. And who’ll train with you for Quidditch try-outs next year if I’m a toad?\u00e2\u20ac\u2122<\/p>\n

oooOooo<\/strong><\/p>\n

\u00e2\u20ac\u02dc\u00e2\u20ac\u00a6and for Merlin’s sake HANG ON to that damn Jarvey!\u00e2\u20ac\u2122<\/p>\n

oooOooo<\/strong><\/p>\n

His first thought was: Circe, is that house small. The <\/em>Burrow is bigger than that.<\/em><\/p>\n

The bay windows had obviously been added as an after-thought, probably with magic. They didn’t match the rest of the house. He’d never understand why you would want to put a fence around a \u00e2\u20ac\u02dcfront-garden\u00e2\u20ac\u2122<\/em> that was not even three feet wide. If there were more than two rooms upstairs, he’d be very much surprised.<\/p>\n

So this was where Professor Snape had grown up? No wonder he was so\u00e2\u20ac\u00a6tetchy and\u00e2\u20ac\u00a6tight-arsed.<\/p>\n

oooOooo<\/strong><\/p>\n

\u00e2\u20ac\u02dcHappy Christmas, Hermione!\u00e2\u20ac\u2122<\/p>\n

He stared at his best friend. He knew<\/em> he was staring at her, but he couldn’t help himself. She was too thin. And what had she done with her hair? It looked like dark dandelion seed, lots of fluff on a fragile stem. But her cheeks were flushed, her eyes bright\u00e2\u20ac\u00a6Then Snape appeared behind her, tall and gaunt, but with a bit of tell-tale colour in his face, and a gleam to his eyes.<\/p>\n

Ron swallowed hard. Did they absolutely have <\/em>to look quite that well-shagged at lunch on Boxing Day?<\/p>\n

\u00e2\u20ac\u02dcRon! Lois! Hello, Alina!\u00e2\u20ac\u2122<\/p>\n

\u00e2\u20ac\u02dcMr Weasley. Lois, thank you for coming. Miss Petrel. Please, come in.\u00e2\u20ac\u2122<\/p>\n

oooOooo<\/strong><\/p>\n

Ron glanced at Alina. The girl was staring at her surroundings with an expression of fascinated bliss. (Books. There were books everywhere; if he’d had any doubt that Hermione was happy here, one look at the living room had laid those worries to rest.)<\/p>\n

For a bizarre second Ron wanted to pinch the bridge of his nose the way Snape always did. Why did his girlfriend’s daughter have to worship the very ground Snape walked upon?<\/p>\n

Now the little Jarvey on her arm had noticed Alina’s distraction and was wiggling like mad, intent on his escape.<\/p>\n

\u00e2\u20ac\u02dcHang on to Cicero, you don’t want to find him roasted on your plate later on,\u00e2\u20ac\u2122 Ron hissed into Alina’s ear. Alina looked up at him with a bashful, sheepish grin. Lois rolled her eyes at her daughter while she squeezed Ron’s hand.<\/p>\n

Ron, for his part, wondered why that particular moment made him feel so happy.<\/p>\n

oooOooo<\/strong><\/p>\n

\u00e2\u20ac\u02dcThat’s a phoenix!\u00e2\u20ac\u2122 Alina squealed.<\/p>\n

Though the bird on the wooden stand in front of the bay windows didn’t look quite<\/em> like Fawkes, it was very definitely a phoenix. A young one\u00e2\u20ac\u201dthe beak was huge in comparison to the body and its feathers, especially on its head, stuck out every which way, were distinctly dishevelled (a bit like Harry’s hair, actually).<\/p>\n

Lois’ daughter inched closer to the bird. Her Jarvey, momentarily forgotten, snuggled into the crook of her arm, a black, silky bit of fur.<\/p>\n

Just behave,<\/em> Ron thought to the animal. Just once, behave.<\/em><\/p>\n

Bird and girl stared at each other. Big beak and ruffled feathers on one side. Huge eyes and the awkwardness and long legs of a first teenaged growth spurt on the other. For an eerie moment baby phoenix and young witch seemed not all that dissimilar.<\/p>\n

\u00e2\u20ac\u02dcAwww,\u00e2\u20ac\u2122 Alina breathed and extended a crooked index-finger to stroke the bird’s beak. \u00e2\u20ac\u02dcYou look just like Woodstock, don’t you?\u00e2\u20ac\u2122<\/p>\n

The bird cocked its head and chirped twice. Even to Ron’s uneducated ear these answering chirps sounded just like \u00e2\u20ac\u02dcWoodstock\u00e2\u20ac\u2122.<\/em><\/p>\n

\u00e2\u20ac\u02dcWoodstock?\u00e2\u20ac\u2122 Alina giggled.<\/p>\n

And the phoenix chirped again. Twice. Alina laughed, delighted. But Ron had the misfortune of looking into Snape’s direction just then.<\/p>\n

Oh Merlin, <\/em>he thought. Please let that be a dream. Alina just named Snape’s phoenix for Snoopy’s yellow companion?<\/em><\/p>\n

<\/p>\n

The Phoenix Hope<\/h3>\n

\u00e2\u20ac\u02dcWoodstock?\u00e2\u20ac\u2122 Hermione asked tentatively.<\/p>\n

\u00e2\u20ac\u02dcChirrup!\u00e2\u20ac\u2122<\/em> the phoenix replied with conviction.<\/p>\n

\u00e2\u20ac\u02dcOh dear,\u00e2\u20ac\u2122 Lois said.<\/p>\n

\u00e2\u20ac\u02dcBloody hell.\u00e2\u20ac\u2122 Ron gulped.<\/p>\n

Then Snape glared at Alina. The girl stared at the wizard. The wizard stared at the girl. The phoenix remained completely unconcerned and nibbled on her herbs. And the wizard’s wife? Hermione was choking with laughter.<\/p>\n

oooOooo<\/strong><\/p>\n

\u00e2\u20ac\u02dcIt’s not a bad name,\u00e2\u20ac\u2122 Hermione insisted later. \u00e2\u20ac\u02dcI always liked Snoopy. And besides: Woodstock<\/em>\u00e2\u20ac\u201dmake love, not war!\u00e2\u20ac\u2122 She winked suggestively at her husband.<\/p>\n

I’m not seeing this,<\/em> Ron thought.<\/p>\n

Snape shook his head, but his lips twitched slightly, and his eyes glittered with silent promises.<\/p>\n

I really don’t want to see this, <\/em>Ron thought<\/p>\n

\u00e2\u20ac\u02dcIf you say so,\u00e2\u20ac\u2122 Snape replied evenly.<\/p>\n

\u00e2\u20ac\u02dcChirp,\u00e2\u20ac\u2122 commented the phoenix.<\/p>\n

And Ron just wanted to go home.<\/p>\n

oooOooo<\/strong><\/p>\n

When they sat in the kitchen with beer, tea, sandwiches, cakes, and scones, Ron felt\u00e2\u20ac\u00a6weird.<\/em> At once way too comfortable and utterly discomfited. In his mind, Ron tried to justify himself.There was his ex-girlfriend cuddling his ex-Potions-professor. Her husband. And there was the daughter of his current<\/em> girlfriend gazing up at his ex-Potions-professor with adoration in her eyes.<\/p>\n

What the hell was he supposed to do about all of that?<\/em><\/p>\n

Except, of course, ask for another beer.<\/p>\n

We’re all adults here except for Alina, <\/em>he continued to argue with himself. As an adult, I can handle visiting Hermione and her husband on Boxing Day. I mean, she’s still my best friend, and he <\/em>is her husband. It’s okay if I enjoy<\/em>\u00e2\u20ac\u201dI mean, naturally I don’t enjoy spending the day with Snape. I’m only here because of Hermione and Lois, after all. But there’s nothing wrong with enjoying a good discussion of Quidditch over a pint, right? Right.<\/em><\/p>\n

That issue resolved, Ron leant back in his chair and dared to raise his glass towards Snape.<\/p>\n

And that, of course, was the moment it happened. The little Jarvey turned on its back in Alina’s arms and tossed his golden toy into the air, happily burbling incomprehensible Latin insults.<\/p>\n

\u00e2\u20ac\u02dcWhat’s that thing Cicero’s playing with?\u00e2\u20ac\u2122 Hermione asked.<\/p>\n

\u00e2\u20ac\u02dcJust some kind of bauble,\u00e2\u20ac\u2122 Alina replied sleepily. \u00e2\u20ac\u02dcHagrid gave it to Cicero for Christmas. He found it in the burrow of the orphaned Jarveys. You know how they are\u00e2\u20ac\u00a6always stealing anything that glitters. It’s a golden ring without a stone. Cicero loves to play with it.\u00e2\u20ac\u2122<\/p>\n

Snape jerked upright in his chair. \u00e2\u20ac\u02dcMiss Petrel\u00e2\u20ac\u201dmay I see that ring, please?\u00e2\u20ac\u2122<\/p>\n

Six years in Snape’s dungeon had taught Ron at least to recognise the underlying tension in the man’s smooth voice. Alina seemed to sense that something was amiss, too, because she handed over the ring without protest or question. Snape took it and examined it carefully from all sides. Hermione was watching her husband, and Ron could see how she was growing more worried by the second.<\/p>\n

\u00e2\u20ac\u02dcSeverus,\u00e2\u20ac\u2122 she whispered at last. \u00e2\u20ac\u02dcPlease tell me that this isn’t\u00e2\u20ac\u201d\u00e2\u20ac\u2122<\/p>\n

Snape laid the ring on the table. Ron bent forwards. It was a man’s ring, a broad band of gold, and its stone must have been quite a hunk\u00e2\u20ac\u201d<\/p>\n

Stone?<\/em><\/p>\n

\u00e2\u20ac\u02dcYes,\u00e2\u20ac\u2122 Snape replied. \u00e2\u20ac\u02dcThat is<\/em> the ring that contained the Resurrection Stone.\u00e2\u20ac\u2122<\/p>\n

oooOooo<\/strong><\/p>\n

\u00e2\u20ac\u02dcThat doesn’t have to mean anything,\u00e2\u20ac\u2122 Harry said. \u00e2\u20ac\u02dcThe stone was cracked; maybe it simply slipped out of the setting. It’s very possible that it’s still in the forest. Maybe even in that Jarvey burrow.\u00e2\u20ac\u2122<\/p>\n

Snape raised his eyebrow. \u00e2\u20ac\u02dcDo you really believe that, Harry?\u00e2\u20ac\u2122<\/p>\n

Harry’s shoulders slumped and he wearily rubbed his scar. \u00e2\u20ac\u02dcNo,\u00e2\u20ac\u2122 he said at last. \u00e2\u20ac\u02dcI wish I could imagine that the only thing that happened to the stone was a centaur that inadvertently stepped on it and ground it deep into the forest soil. But I’m not that na\u00c3\u00afve. Magical items have the unfortunate tendency to be found.\u00c2\u00b4<\/p>\n

\u00e2\u20ac\u02dcI think we must assume now that they, whoever they<\/em> are, have the Resurrection Stone and<\/em> the Elder Wand in their possession right now.\u00e2\u20ac\u2122 He sighed. \u00e2\u20ac\u02dcAt least I’m still the rightful Owner of the Elder Wand.\u00e2\u20ac\u2122<\/p>\n

\u00e2\u20ac\u02dcAre you?\u00e2\u20ac\u2122 Hermione asked. \u00e2\u20ac\u02dcAre you really? Lost any Quidditch matches lately, Harry? Or a bet? Dumbledore wanted Severus to become the next Owner of the Elder Wand, and we all know how well that worked out.\u00e2\u20ac\u2122<\/p>\n

The silence lengthened. The attendants of the impromptu Order meeting did their best not to look at Hermione or Harry or Snape\u00e2\u20ac\u201dor really anywhere else besides their plates, goblets, or fingernails. Winky happily bustled about between the Aga and the Charmed pantry.<\/p>\n

Ron awkwardly cleared his throat. \u00e2\u20ac\u02dcSo what happens now?\u00e2\u20ac\u2122<\/p>\n

\u00e2\u20ac\u02dcYou go home, and we\u00e2\u20ac\u201d\u00e2\u20ac\u2122 Snape glanced at Hermione, who looked pale and scared, with darkening circles under her eyes. \u00e2\u20ac\u02dc\u00e2\u20ac\u201dgo to bed.\u00e2\u20ac\u2122<\/p>\n

When Ron winced instinctively, Snape frowned.<\/p>\n

\u00e2\u20ac\u02dcMr Weasley,\u00e2\u20ac\u2122 Snape said with surprisingly little venom in his voice. \u00e2\u20ac\u02dcThere’s nothing we can<\/em> do\u00e2\u20ac\u201dexcept what we are<\/em> already doing: implement the plans we have made.<\/p>\n

\u00e2\u20ac\u02dcWe’ll brew that Sempiternal Solution and hope that it will create a link between Hermione’s wands and mine. We’ll pass beyond the Veil and hope to find the source of that leeching curse, and that we’ll be able to break that curse. And, of course, we’ll attend that New Year’s party at the Burrow.\u00e2\u20ac\u2122 Looking at Harry, he raised an eyebrow. \u00e2\u20ac\u02dcUnless you no longer insist on my presence, of course?\u00e2\u20ac\u2122<\/p>\n

\u00e2\u20ac\u02dcYou wish, Severus. You’re coming.\u00e2\u20ac\u2122 Harry smirked, but the grin didn’t reach his eyes.<\/p>\n

oooOooo<\/strong><\/p>\n

Two hours later Severus held Hermione in his arms. She had fallen asleep quickly after a long, exhausting day. But he couldn’t sleep. He lay in the darkness and listened to Hermione’s breathing. His thoughts kept going back to what he’d told Weasley\u00e2\u20ac\u201dand what he hadn’t said.<\/p>\n

\u00e2\u20ac\u00a6and hope that we’ll come back, back to the ones we love.<\/em><\/p>\n

Severus sigh was barely audible. Hope.<\/em> He had no experience with hope, or even with wanting to have hope. How did one go about it?<\/em> he wondered. Where to find hope in a thoroughly hopeless situation?<\/em><\/p>\n

oooOooo<\/strong><\/p>\n

\n

\u00c2\u00ab Chapters 151\u00e2\u20ac\u201c160<\/a> oooOooo<\/strong> Chapters 171\u00e2\u20ac\u201c180 \u00c2\u00bb<\/a><\/p>\n

\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

\u00e2\u20ac\u02dcThe Apprentice and the Necromancer\u00e2\u20ac\u2122 by JunoMagic Chapters 161\u00e2\u20ac\u201c170 The Absurdity of Street Corners \u00e2\u20ac\u02dcVery well. Where do you suggest we start this\u00e2\u20ac\u00a6exploration?\u00e2\u20ac\u2122 \u00e2\u20ac\u02dcWhy not right here?\u00e2\u20ac\u2122 They were standing at what had once been a shadowy street corner at … Continue reading →<\/span><\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":194,"featured_media":0,"parent":77,"menu_order":17,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"closed","template":"chapter.php","meta":{"footnotes":""},"class_list":["post-99","page","type-page","status-publish","hentry"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"http:\/\/juno-magic.fancrone.net\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages\/99","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"http:\/\/juno-magic.fancrone.net\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages"}],"about":[{"href":"http:\/\/juno-magic.fancrone.net\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/page"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/juno-magic.fancrone.net\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/194"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/juno-magic.fancrone.net\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=99"}],"version-history":[{"count":2,"href":"http:\/\/juno-magic.fancrone.net\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages\/99\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":10117,"href":"http:\/\/juno-magic.fancrone.net\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages\/99\/revisions\/10117"}],"up":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/juno-magic.fancrone.net\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages\/77"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"http:\/\/juno-magic.fancrone.net\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=99"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}