Lunch hadn’t been too pleasant, but it had been tasty enough to fill their stomachs with something else than horrible knots. The grumpy guests had kept them trapped with stories of long gone hard times until Barney had escorted them out for their own safety. Therefore they had been left no chance to use his Pensieve anyway and Hermione had been forced to think of a place where they could look at the memories securely.
Draco hadn’t been too fond of her idea, but she had convinced him with a cosy sofa and absolute privacy. So in the end, after having marvelled about the one or other wall or staircase, they arrived at the sleeping portrait of a chubby woman in a pink dress.
“Oh goodness – ”, Hermione giggled up to the high, wide roof, “They repaired my hole already!”
“Your hole?”, Draco did the same. “You blasted that thing? Wow.”
“Well, some crank chased me with Fiendfyre. I had to deflect it somehow, much to the roof’s misfortune.”
“Oh. Seems, it’d been a hot night for you then.”
“Yes.”, Hermione chuckled.
“Wait, you reckon she’s got a password yet?”
“Let’s find out, shall we?”
“Sure. Go for it.”, Hermione cleared her throat with a pitched hem, hem that made Draco snort and snicker. “Bitch.”
“Thanks.”, she grinned. “Didn’t wake her, though.”, Hermione coughed louder, managing to make the Fat Lady jump form her seat.
“This is not the Ministry, Madam!”, she shrieked “You cannot hang me off – oh. You! What by all means are you doing here, frightening me that much! School hasn’t started yet – ”
“We know. We – erm – we just wondered whether we could – ”
“Of course you can, but he can’t.”, the woman nodded at Draco.
“Oh, I think, he can. He’s a teacher now.”
“Teacher? Is that so, Malfoy?”
“I’ve been accepted by the Headmistress, so I guess, I am.”
“And what would you be teaching?”
“Defence Against the Dark Arts.”, Draco said briskly.
“Ah, not that you need that, right? They’ve been prostrating before you, haven’t they?”
“May we enter?”, Hermione demanded.
“Okay, okay!”, the Fat Lady grunted and swung aside.
Inside, Hermione immediately went for the sofa and flicked her wand at the window in the alcove by it, as to let in some fresh air. Draco took some moments to examine the mostly red room he had never been to before. By the moment he settled himself at her right, she had already taken the Pensieve from her pouch, making it float in front of her, the memory ready to be poured in.
“What do you think?”
“A bit small.”
“I know. We’d have to look at it separated. But I meant the common room, actually.”
“Oh. It’s smaller than ours, but a lot more homely, if I think about it. What’s wrong?”
“Um – I don’t know – I – this might contain some information that isn’t meant for you – ”
“Meaning?”
“How to say that – well, there are some secrets he quite probably didn’t tell you. Or do you know what’s been in that locket?”, she pointed at the piece of silver jewellery that laid on her chest.
“Been? Isn’t it still in there?”
“I’m not sure – ”, Hermione considered.
“Why don’t you take a look then?”
“I – don’t really want to – ”
“Sure.”, Draco nodded into space. “It’s been stupid of me to put up that photo for the funeral.”
“No. That was a wonderful idea, really.”
“You think?”, his head zoomed back at her.
“Yes. So you know – ”
“Yes, he showed me.”
“And you know who – ”
“She was? Yes.”
“And he – also told you – ”
“That the baby’s his son? Yes.”
“Did he say – ”
“No. He never said. But I’m not an idiot. At least not regarding that. They’re so similar in ways, it’s hard to miss.”
“Alright.”, Hermione sighed out her relief. “Permission granted.”
“Good. Ladies first.”, Draco smiled and Hermione emptied the flask.
One last glance at him and she dived her face in.
Fresh snow had fallen and was still falling in the street. She was standing by a bus stop, but when she looked around, she didn’t recognise the street. It was a completely different bus stop. It had really been for some fortuity that they had bumped into him. Wrapped in his hooded winter cloak, Severus paced past her, steady in step, focused on his destination and she wondered how he knew where to go, if he hadn’t – but then she remembered how they had sent out the falcon to Skeeter.
Not feeling the cold of dusk around them, she tried to keep up. Checking a crossing street before he walked over, he headed for a poor high brick building with dusty windows and even more dusty grey or brown curtains behind some. He took the steps to the rust-red door with grills over the glass and scanned the name tags with his white index finger. Hermione startled as well when he jumped aside. The door had opened. Very old looking, the stooped woman had a hard time pulling her holdall outside.
“May I help you, Madam?”, she gasped and clapped her hand on her chest with shock.
“My goodness, don’t frighten an old woman!”
“I didn’t mean to, sorry. May I?”, he offered her his help again.
“If you don’t rob me,”
“Not at all. What would I be doing with a Lady’s clothes, actually?”
“That’s right.”, she sighed. “But you don’t know nothin’ about the youngsters roamin’ the streets these days.”
“I believe, I know more about those people than you would prefer.”
“Is that so? Well, why don’t you help me over to the bus stop and be my bodyguard until I hop in?”, she presented them with a grin of yellowish false teeth that looked much like their miserable state had been the dentist’s fault already.
“It will be my pleasure, Madam.”
“Oh drop that excessive courtesy.”, she waived when he easily picked up the big bag and offered her his other arm so she wouldn’t fall on the black ice beneath the snow. “What a gentleman you are. Unlike those other yobbos around here.”
“I used to have a wonderful mother.”
“Is that so?”, she said again, “Well, I wish I had found the right father for my children. I would have loved to have some. But now I’m old and never got any. A shame.”
“I don’t know about the father, but yes, maybe. My experiences had been, how to say, questionable?”
“Not too fond of your father, eh?”
“Actually, no. He did his best to spoil our relationship.”
“And now you come tellin’ me that with his voice?”
“Oh, it is only partly, I think, yes. Why?”
“Why? Wh- because you got exactly his voice, you got!”
“Have I? I can’t really remember,”
“Oh definitely you are his son!”, she laughed up at him when they reached the bus stop. “You got his nose, dear.”
“So it is all about the nose.”, Severus huffed, glaring down the street.
“Nothin’ wrong with that, nothin’ wrong. So, Christmas, eh? Thought you’d give him a try, boy? When have you seen him last?”
“A few days ago.”
“Sure. And that’s why you thought so, right? But when have you seen him last.”
“When he nearly killed my mother and left us with nothing.”, Severus said dark.
“That’s right, boy. He dumped you when you were a child. But I tell you somethin’,”, she leant closer with her left index finger raised, “He’s changed, that man. He’s grown a real gentleman as well. Does the shoppin’ for me. Helps me up and down the house just like you, when he’s at home. I only need to ring his bell and he’s ready like a fireman. But I think, he’s havin’ a visitor up there.”, her hand slackened to a loose fist. “Played some loud music. That’s probably why he didn’t hear me and the lift’s broken again, so here I am. I personally hope it’s a woman. Hasn’t seen any in years. Would do him good, maybe. As long as he doesn’t – oh, there’s the bus comin’! Now, you charmin’ prince, I’ll be off for a nice Christmas with my old sister before we both kick the bucket. Personally, if I’m to go heels up, I’d like to do it with a little show and drama. One last adventure. Good luck, boy.”
“Thank you, Madam. Merry Christmas.”
“To you too, dear, thanks.”
He helped her getting the holdall in with the bus driver whom she quickly paid with money she got from her handbag. The driver shut the doors and Severus turned in the other direction, back to the house, all his former determination blown away. He didn’t even react on the honking of the car that missed him by about two feet and went straight through Hermione who didn’t feel it, but couldn’t deny there had been some strange sensation to it. His hand shaking, his finger approached the button, but there was as much an answer as if he hadn’t done it at all. So he simply opened the door that gave in to his magic when he reached for the knob.
Hermione followed him up the narrow staircase, one floor, a second floor, a third – on the fifth floor he stooped, checking a plain door on his right, just by the stairs further up. There was no spy hole in the dark wood, nor a letter slot; just a tarnished brass handle, a peeling off sticker with the number fourteen and a small white button next to the handle. Jazz music could be heard from inside. Hermione suppressed a giggle but remembered that she could laugh as much as she wanted, he wouldn’t hear her. Hesitating again, he rang the doorbell. Like the woman had said, the music was obviously too loud. He rang it once more, with the same result.
She feared that he would press the tiny thing too fierce and that it got stuck, but he kept ringing it, persisting, for about a minute or two. Finally some other sound could be heard from inside, as though Grawp had turned over a rock, as well as some cursing. Then the lock clicked and a chain was removed.
His cigarette fell the moment the door stood open. Severus made it vanish into thin air with a simple gesture of his hand, only noticed by her. The other man’s hazel eyes were as open as the door and his lips stood ajar. It was like seeing an extremely tired, far older, little more than one head taller Harry, with slightly rougher features, different eyes as well as nose and middle brown hair and full beard that partly had turned grey, but seemed a little more red now in the soft light than it had been when she had seen him in real. He also had more muscles, which was not hard to tell due to the dirty, formerly white wife beater shirt he wore above his torn, baggy jeans. Some evenly spread hair grew at least on the visible parts of his chest, a little lighter and redder than on his head, but the pattern was unmistakably like Severus’. That one pushed back his hood; some residual snowflakes falling; revealing his bouffant freshly washed hair.
Tobias blinked at his son for some seconds, and a vein was visibly pulsing at his temple, then he hastily shut the door. Blowing a disappointed sigh, Severus lowered his head and went downstairs. Hermione could hear rumbling. The door swung open so lively, it crashed into the wall. This time he wore a knitted brown vest over the shirt, wrapping himself in it. Hermione noticed that he was barefoot. His toes crouched on the cold stone tiles of the stairwell. That cost her another laugh. It was not only the voice or the nose or the size, or even chest hair, Severus had also inherited his toes. Tobias tried to brush the two inches of hair on his head with fingers that were clearly a hard worker’s, but of course failed at taming it. Severus slowly turned back to him, with an almost nostalgic, faint smile.
“Screw i’ – ”, his father aspirated, Hermione actually finding their voices very similar. “You even go’ ’er smile now.”, that grew reasonably bigger. “W-wanna – wanna come in?”, he pointed over his shoulder with a thumb.
“If ye lemme,”, Severus didn’t fully lose his smile, but it transformed into an exhausted smirk.
“An’ ’er crappy dialec’.”, that was rich, Hermione thought – the only distinctive differences were that Tobias had more of a snarling voice, swallowed more Ts; and Ds as she would get to find out; and pronounced the O, A, U and R totally different.
“I could use various different ways to address you, should that conform to your desires of being spoken to.”
“Now ge’ in, before I change me min’,”
Convinced, his son climbed back up and followed him inside. Hermione slipped past them, in the tight, short corridor and into the dark bathroom since the door had been left open. Books and other piles of paper took in half of the corridor and two piles had fallen. That had been what had caused the noise: he had knocked them over. There was a fast, almost silent, deep humming speeding through the entire flat when Severus lightly tapped his wand at the closed door after the lock had clicked.
Having his difficulties again, his father; who didn’t seem to have noticed the cast spells; led him into the lighter living room that smelled after cigarettes as well. Embracing the opportunity, Severus picked one of the books he gave an ordering wave so they returned to their piles. Hermione couldn’t read the title from where she stood, but Severus shook his head. Whatever that meant, she thought. Maybe she would look at the memory another time, being faster with entering. The book landed on the pile with its front cover down and the saddle against the wall. Either it was coincidence or he had already planned to make her watch the encounter later and she wasn’t to find out what the book was about. She was prone to the second.
Yellowed wallpaper embellished the walls in a rather sloppy way and the dark furniture wasn’t too much of a contrast. Some more bookshelves stood at them or hung higher up, a moth-eaten couch was turned from the only window that was covered with a once white, half transparent curtain, next to a balcony door which faced a wall outside. The radiator below the window was fulfilling its work to exhaustion. In front of the sofa stood a slightly singed coffee table, carrying a small old wireless radio and a filled ashtray. That made her look closer at the sofa. What she thought had been done my moths, were fag burns. In the window-side corner, she found a flourishing gum tree in a quite familiar pot. It was the only green thing in the room apart from some book bindings though and the only benefiting from the smoke. To her left were two more closed doors, both of them holding ribbed glass. Only one wall was left for her to examine. It was one whole bookshelf, apart from a thin shelf that contained records. Before it, a crooked old table was loaded with a way too familiar gramophone that still played some jazz. Tobias went for it, but Severus prevented him from fully deadening the music.
“Keep it on.”, he said quickly.
“Sure?”
“There’s nuthin’ wrong wit’ George Lewis.”
“You know ’im?”, he nevertheless turned down the volume.
“Course I do.”
“Damn. Though’ you were all in for wizar’ music.”
“No’ a bi’, ter be hones’.”, Severus took off his winter cloak and the one underneath and folded them skilfully on his arms. “Maybe sum’ stuff, bu’ mainly Muggles go’ tha better music.”
“Me wor’s.”
“Ever listened ter wizard’s stuff?”, Tobias needed a little pause when the cloaks shrunk to a size smaller than walnuts and were slipped into a front pocket of Severus’ trousers, then continued with a chuckle.
“Twit. Course no’.”
“Good choice.”, his son sighed.
“You too.”, he nodded at his clean slim black robe. “Better than me – magnificen’, splendour dress robes.”, Tobias pointed down his own crappy clothes with another chuckle.
“I wun’ tell ye off ’cause ye’re makin’ yerself comfortable at ’ome,”
“Goo’ ta know. So? Wha’cha doin’?”
“I though’, I migh’ jus’ visi’ me ol’ man fer Christmas – ye smoke?”
“Har’ ta tell, eh? Yeah. Starte’ a while ago.”, Severus curled his lips. “Don’cha look a’ me like tha’. Never touch’ a glass again since I lef’ you an yar Mom.”
“Why did ye never try ter come back?”
“I di’, I di’,”, Tobias moaned at a shelf, scratching his neck. “Bu’ you know ’er magic. Din’ lemme in. Stopp’ after a while. How’s she doin’?”
“Fine, I s’ppose,”, Severus shrugged and looked in the other direction.
“Eh? When’ve you ’ear’ las’ from ’er?”
“When she whispered ’er very las’ word ter me.”
“Er – ”
“She’s dead.”
Hermione could see the last chuckle collapse along with the entire fortress of tension behind those hazel eyes and well-toned body. He blinked heavily, his lips a wee bit parted as Severus’ would be when awful awareness began to reach him in a private moment.
“Say – ”, Tobias whispered gargling, barely audible over the music. “Say – tha’ – say tha’ – say tha’ again – ”, now Severus turned back his head and Hermione got to see the very similar expression.
“She died seventeen years ago.”, Severus whispered as well.
Sincerely shattered as if he had just realised that he had overslept an entire life, Tobias wiped a hand over his mouth and staggered for the sofa on which he sank and thick tears already stood in both men’s eyes when those in Hermione’s were about to be created. Like his son, he still loved the woman he had once met and fallen for, both of them dead for many years now, leaving their love and a son behind in a cold, cruel world. Tobias fully buried his face in his hands, meaning to hide his crying, but the sobbing could be heard and his body was shaking too much for the simple move to cover it up. The rest of the room fell silent. Severus had given the needle a gentle wave of his hand and walked over to the sofa as well.
After all he had done to him as a child, he was still his father. He had beaten him and his mother terribly when drunk; and probably even sometimes when being sober; but it was all forgiven. If it hadn’t been over the years, Hermione considered, then it had been then when he had pulled him into his arms, crying silently with him.
Hope was all she had. Hope, that it would end. Hope that she didn’t need to watch them cry. It hurt her so much, she waited for a trench to burst open in her heart. But it didn’t. Tobias only bared his washed face, his hands gliding down in the embrace and pulling the arm closer to his own chest.
“Why.”, he only aspirated. “Why’s she – g-gone – ”
“I stopped askin’ meself many years ago. Kep’ tellin’ meself tha’ there’s a reason. There migh’ be, bu’ it’s – I dunno – one’s worse than tha other.”
“I’m s-sorry, S-Sev’rus.”
“I fergive ye. Did tha’ long ago too.”
“Thanks. Bu’ I mean’ – I mean’ – too – tha’ you’ve – los’ ev’rythin’ – you know – tha’ girl Lily, yar brother, yar – yar mother – ”
“Tha’s life.”
“Tz. Tha’s life. Fuck i’, tha’ stupi’ life. Bu’ hey, you go’ some ligh’ lef’.”
“I ’ave.”
“Screw i’ – how’d you manage ta ’ave such a grea’ son?”, clearly surprised, Severus raised his head from his and they gazed into each other’s wet eyes. “Follo’d you secre’ly. Seen you disappear inta nowhere with tha’ girl. I’ve been campin’ in tha area for a nigh’ an’ almos’ half a day. Go’ ta see ’im in person finally. ’E’s def’nitely yars. Seen you boys in tha papers sometimes, bu’ I can tell, tha’ Harry’s yars, an’ how ’e is – an’ when I saw ’im walkin’ I knew. Or’s James been tha same?”
“No. ’E’s been totally diff’ren’.”, Severus smirked.
“There you go.”
“When ye say papers, d’ye mean – ?”
“C’mon.”, Tobias smiled at last, freed himself from his grip and stood up. “Now c’mon!”, he waved his son to the right of the doors and wiped off his tears as he went to open it. “Gotta show you somethin’.”
That room behind the door turned out to be a narrow bedroom that held enough space for a bed at the door’s right, a nightstand, a wardrobe next to it and a desk straight ahead from the door, under the window. It was already quite dark outside and Tobias turned on the old lamp in the middle of the ceiling before he stepped further in to allow his son admittance. Spotting the wall on the left, he also wiped his tears away in order to better see what amazed him right away then.
The wall was almost entirely covered with articles from various editions of the Daily, Evening and Sunday Prophet, as well as some magazines and as far as Hermione could perceive, they were all about a handful of people. Severus, James, and most of all, Harry. It cost her a laugh when she found articles from the; considering what she was watching; previous year where a certain woman’s face had carefully been blackened out with a permanent marker and some facts had been corrected or underlined, mainly dealing with Harry’s age or alleged emotions she knew well to have been purely invented, and obviously hadn’t been the only one, though she had spent much more time with him. She could also find articles about herself that were in connection with Harry. They were decorated with quite a number of additional question marks. Taking a more thorough look, she noticed that the oldest were in the left upper corner and there was some free space at the bottom for more to come.
“Gonadh – ”, Severus chuckled into his hand when he scanned the wall.
“Well, yeah. Tha’s me lil Wall Of Fame, son.”
Very slow, Severus turned to his father who leant against the desk, right next to a primitive digital clock that also showed the date, pride glistening in his drying eyes. But something caught his attention: it was a huge frame over the nightstand, containing a big photo on a page of the Daily Prophet of two smiling young adults who had troubles holding some trophies and documents each, Dumbledore and the Minister she had seen at Severus’ last practical NEWT stood behind them and at their respective sides; utterly proud; McGonagall and Slughorn. Severus took his time to read the articles framed along with it.
Couple strikes the Examination Committee
The information that this mysterious though charming young pair is not only one in stunning achievement but hearts as well, reached our interviewer only when questioning them personally. This year, Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry loses two excellent, ambitious students to the world outside. Miss Lily Evans from Gryffindor and Mr Severus Snape from Slytherin graduated in no less than nine N.E.W.T.s, all off them accomplished with the highest mark of an Outstanding. In addition, each their Thesis has moved many people at their presentation, positively and negatively as well. Their exceeding proficiency has been awarded with nothing other than the eminently respectable Barnabus Finkley Prize and the Phineas Bourne Award, as well as various numbers of accomplishment prizes given by the school’s administration itself for their work throughout their education.
Read the interview held by Betty Braithwaite along with authorized excerpts from their Theses on pages thirteen and fourteen.
Hermione skipped over to the interview, showing another photo of them, this time grinning from behind a pile of spellbooks each of them carried.
Peace IN war – when the young generation becomes our only hope
Interview by Betty Braithwaite
As dealt with on the front page, our tragically decimating society looks up to two bright lights that just came shining from Hogwarts. The eighteen year old graduands radiate happiness in its pure forms. It appears only natural that one of them wrote about this matter in never seen ways. The other shows courage of a true Gryffindor by outing as a proud Muggle-Born in a time such are hunted down by Him-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named and his Death Eaters.
Betty Braithwaite:
It is an absolute pleasure to be meeting you two in person. But I spare you the compliments, you must have had enough of them already. Ladies first, I would say then, Miss Evans. Why don’t you tell our readers a bit about yourself?
Lily Evans:
Well, I’ve grown up in a quite large town with my older sister and parents. They are all Muggles as you know, and therefore were even more excited than me when I got my letter from Hogwarts. Not my sister though, but that’s a different topic.
So you would say, you don’t have a good relation to your sister?
Not really. (smirks) We’re very different in almost all matters. But I learned to live with that. What else could I do.
All right. Would you say, studying that much was rather easy for you?
I loved it! Okay, at times it was getting a little hard, but as long as you keep your nose up high and believe in what you want, you can achieve everything you are striving for.
Can you summarise your Thesis a little? You named it `Clash of Familiar Worlds´.
It is, isn’t it? We live alongside every day, Muggles not seeing the Witches and Wizards and those capable of magic tend to ignore those who aren’t. Of course that is due to (she indeed is very courageous, saying his name) meaning to sort us, but that should encourage us more to live together, not just side by side, divided by invisible walls. I’m not saying that all Muggles should know about our world; that has led to grand catastrophes throughout history, we all know that; I mean us becoming aware that we have to keep them safe from the dangers in our own rows. I understand that the first to save is mostly the own neck so as to still be able to save others, but we have to decide better who is worth living. We are all human, carrying the gene or not. Even in times like the current; or especially in such; we have to stick together and care for one another, no matter where we come from. If you don’t give a damn about others, those others won’t give a damn about you. No one can really be happy this way, can they?
Now that leads us right on to `Don’t just smile´ by our young Sir here. You have chosen quite a topic as well: `The origin and strength of happiness regarding the capability of a mind and its influence on the Patronus Charm´. Would you mind enlightening our readers as well, first of course, about yourself?
Severus Snape:
First of all, good afternoon, Madam Braithwaite.
A man of manners, excellent. A wonderful afternoon to you as well.
Thank you. If it is your topmost desire to hear about my background, I can provide you only that much: I have grown up an alley down Lily’s place, half of my youth alone with my dear mother. The rest is up to your imagination.
Any siblings?
I thought, I was making my point clear, but it seems, I was heavily mistaken.
Ah, I understand. What is happiness to you?
Happiness is very varied, as all other aspects of life, and it is individual. I will not dive further in my very personal ideas of happiness as you might fail to understand once again, (exchanges a brief smile with his colleague) but I can tell you the world is a two-sided coin, not nearly as round as anyone wishes it to be. We all play our part in that game of life and it is evident fact that no living being can exist without some extent of happiness, however defined it may be.
You particularly like to play with words?
Certainly. But that is not the topic, as I believe? If so, I must have been wrong myself about the reason I was told to be here for, or someone considered themselves hilarious by tricking me into a different show.
Oh of course not. We are all honest here.
That pleases me, for the time being. Keep in mind though, that I might know, should you be lying.
Now that’s one scary look! Never mind. You stated in one part of your Thesis that happiness and a mind’s strength could even be seen as equals. What exactly do you mean by that?
It appears logical, does it not? If a mind is not strong enough to find itself some happiness, that happiness can never grow at all. A mind that is never confronted with something comforting as for example self-defined happiness, cannot exist for long. Touché, death.
And how does that connect to the Patronus Charm?
We are all part of a highly connected universe, even if we might be unable to perceive it. Everything is connected.
That doesn’t really answer –
Well of course it doesn’t, for you. I didn’t expect you to grasp this simple complexity. Brilliant people, Wizards and Muggles alike, have wasted decades of their precious lives on the cause and came to the only conclusion that they were incapable of comprehension for such higher logic. There is, as I understand it, a room in the Department of Mysteries in our own British Ministry of Magic where Unspeakable devote explicitly to the fascination of happiness. Justifiably, I wouldn’t have been granted entry, but I anyway never meant to be having a tea party with those fools in there, who devote to something as fragile behind locked doors, while it lives and acts outside their narrow cosmos. Studying a being bred in a cage will never bring you understanding of one in the wild.
So the Patronus Charm –
I was sure you would be gnawing on that one, but shall you. What is it that you ask me to explain?
How does it work in your opinion? You say, a Patronus itself does not purely rely on the happy happiness. What do you mean by that and what then does it rely on?
As far as I am concerned, I have written an entire chapter on the variety of happiness?
Indeed.
What I mean by `happy´ happiness is a momentary state of being; the present feeling of joy. When encountering a Dementor, they would strive first to suck that feeling from their victim, which eventually leads to their success in nearly all cases, according to each individual mind’s weakness. But happiness is not joy alone. Happiness, when it is honest and true, sits as deep in a soul as every other strong emotion. Should perfunctory sentiments be knocked out, a strong mind can dig further in and shield its shell with the very core of the emotion. That is mostly when we get to discover whether a person can conjure a real, full corporeal Patronus or not, and if it so happens in a situation of high life threat, we can speak of a powerful mind, heart and soul; which always go along with one another in some way.
Corporeal Patronuses – there are said to be various special forms and; I am ashamed to admit that I haven’t been present myself; you, Miss Evans, gave your audience a striking example of a Twin-Patronus?
L. Evans:
That is correct.
Wow. Do you know exactly what causes them to appear and if, can you give an example and probably tell how you discovered your ability?
Both:
That is private.
But that won’t bring our readers on.
S. Snape:
If the Prophet is to release parts of my Thesis in exactly the way I asked for, your readers will find the information on causes there. I hardly reckon the – ah – average reader will understand it right away, but I never give up hope for the world to develop some discernment, and might it just be enough for differing love from admiration.
Which would be?
L. Evans:
Immensely huge. An admiration or affection has got nothing to do with the deep care of an actually loving heart.
[…](Mrs Braithwaite later confesses to have been taken aback by the tenderness the couple’s fingers had laid around one another’s.)
It seems to be true that love doesn’t judge? You two were put into openly rivalling Houses, but your friendship developed to such love? Due to it or –
S. Snape:
Yes, yes, that is up to interpretation, and no. What is between us, never cared for the colour of our uniform ties.
L. Evans:
It was actually great fun studying people’s reactions. It’s been seven years since we entered Hogwarts, but they still didn’t get hold of certain facts about life in its basics.
S. Snape: It surprised me each time I met with any of these narrow minded wrecks that not even years of witnessing could stimulate the slightest growth of wisdom. The grandest lack mankind has managed to develop so far.
You are rather unusual, Mr Snape.
S. Snape:
If it is you to say,
Well, however, as a defender of unity, Miss Evans, would you say, god or some other higher power meant you to be put into different Houses for teaching everyone that such didn’t matter?
S. Snape:
Oh, they do matter. They are a kind of family and they matter just as much as any family. It is only up to each person in specific as to how much given by this family they decide to use for their personal development.
L. Evans:
That’s right. And, maybe? Maybe not? I think there is a reason in everything that happens. If we don’t see it, we are just not able or ready yet to look close enough or think less biased.
Thank you for your time.
As if he had known how long it would have taken her to read it, he raised his voice right there, leaving her no chance to go through the excerpts.
“I never read tha’.”, Severus chuckled. “Lily wanted me ter, bu’ I refused. Fergo’ ’ow caustic I’ve been. Oh well, people still say I am,”
“Can’ see where tha’ migh’ come from.”, Tobias smirked and it was like looking at Harry doing that. “Oh me – ”, he murmured, having remembered something. “I’m such an idio’. You’d like somethin’? Ta drink, I mean? Or – ea’? I don’ ’ave much, bu’ I – ”
“I’m fine,”, said Severus and stepped a little closer to him.
“Really?”
“Yes.”
“So – er – ”
He clearly pointed up to a small article; easily to be overseen; that cited him as successor of Slughorn. The years had obviously made people forget about his achievements in school.
“Teacher?”, Severus nodded. “Still? Ruddy! Goo’ job, eh? Gotta be prou’ then, don’ I? Risk free. Ligh’ work. Well-pai’.”
“Wouldn’ say ligh’ or risk free when yer studen’s tend ter nearly blow ye up ev’ry lesson, bu’ yes, go’ a nice salary.”
“Teachin’ yar son?”
“Yes.”, he nodded again.
“’Is classmates mus’ be jealous, no’ bein’ allowed ta call you `Dad´.”
“Oh, ’e doesn’ either.”, Severus said languidly with a half smile.
“Makin’ ’im call you `Sir´?”, Tobias laughed.
“’E doesn’ know I’m ’is father.”, and that bright laugh was killed within seconds. “It’s a lil complicated, ye know; ’e’s better off thinkin’ both ’is paren’s are dead. Saves ’im a lo’ o’ trouble.”
“An’ – an’ you?”, Tobias moaned.
“I arranged it tha’ way. Would be too dangerous fer ’im ter know.”
“Wha’cha mean?”
He nodded up to the article again. Hermione saw that the previous dealt with his trial, but only stated that he had been cleared of all charges. There was a question mark on a free space there as well. Severus gave it an erasing flick with two fingers.
“Guess, ’ey’d tortured Skeeter too. Otherwise she’d ’ave boasted ’bou’ it. Bu’ on tha other ’and, she’s fled from me trial after ten minutes. Migh’ no’ ’ave wanted ter ge’ ’erself in trouble reportin’ tha’.”
“Don’ say, they – ?”
Tobias’ eyebrows narrowed and Severus unbuttoned his robe and shirt and turned around. When he slipped the clothes down to his waist, Tobias’ hand clapped on his mouth and he sought in a shocked breath through his nose. Severus however presented the bed with sad anger before he restored his appearance and turned back to him.
“Tha’s no’ – ”, he shook his head, mumbling through his hand. “You’re no’ – ”, but Severus unbuttoned his left sleeves now and pushed them up, causing his father to gasp and swallow again. “An’ now?”, Tobias moaned quietly after having lowered his hand, yet squeezing himself closer to the desk. “Wha’cha goin’ ta do now?”
“Now?”, Severus frowned lazily. “Christmas dinner?”, he paused, “I go’ – ”, and opened the upper buttons of his robe again for pulling his pouch from which he took a knotted plastic bag that held some ice cubes and two salmons. “I know it’s no’ traditional fer Christmas, bu’ it’s no normal Christmas anyway, is it? Or d’ye think I’d turn up at me ol’ man’s fer Christmas empty-’anded?”
“You’re no’ – you’re no’ goin’ ter – ter poison me, are you?”
“Wha’?”, Severus chuckled. “No! No, I mean, I tested ’em on various germs an’ viruses, so – I dun’ expec’ ’em ter kill us,”
“You – ”
“Din’ ye like salmon?”
“I – I di’! Bu’ – you’re – you’re a – you’re one of ’is – ”
“No’ one of, I’m tha bigges’ nigh’mare o’ tha Dark Lor’.”
Everything became black fog. When Hermione could see again, she knew she hadn’t been granted to watch them prepare the meal or even have it. Instead she found them sitting at the enlarged living room table, the ashtray gone, a bowl of salad and one of vegetables emptied and only bones left of the salmons. In between them stood a thin white candle, half burnt down. The gramophone played some quiet Christmas Gospel and they had decorated the gum tree with silver and golden balls and tinsel. Seeing them eating baked apple and pumpkin ice cream with delight, made her smile. Such a scene was all she had hoped for. They finally were nothing but father and son and she could see that not a thing of it was played.
“You din’ tell me abou’ tha’ girl.”
“Girl?”, asked Severus.
“Tha’ ’Ermione Granger. You brough’ ta tha’ safe ’ouse. Recognise’ ’er from tha papers.”
“An’?”
“You brough’ ’er there person’lly,”
“’T’s been some complicated circumstances.”, he replied casually.
“You can’ fool me, Sev’rus. I migh’ be a gimp in ways, bu’ I’m still yar father. You like ’er?”
“I do,”
“An’ now tha truth? C’mon, I can see you blushin’,”, Severus indeed did on the sneer, if only a little. “You like ’er much.”
“Sto’ grinnin’ at me, Dad.”, Severus grumbled.
“Now say i’, boy.”, he grinned on though. “You’d like ta ’ave ’er?”
“T’s a lil bi’ less perverted.”, a sigh escaped him and he finished off the last bits of his apple quite forcefully; it was then that Tobias’ grin became a soft smirk.
“You love ’er Hermione was certain Severus would change the topic, but after some seconds of hesitation, he answered seriously.
“Sum’thin’ like tha’, I think,”
“An’ she?”, on that, he shrugged.
“Per’aps?”, there was another long pause, but eventually both couldn’t hold back an amused snort that came so simultaneously and similar their relation couldn’t have been less clear.
“Tol’ ’er?”, but Severus just curled his lips, heavily flushed and searched desperately for something else to look at than his father’s eyes, which he found in the glistening gum tree. “Nah! An’?”, the excitement was back.
“Dun’ think she understoo’.”, Severus shrugged again and smirked to his smeared plate. “Said it in Russian.”, she had almost forgotten that this had happened two and a half years ago.
“You’re awful.”
“I know. Ye din’ tell me ’ow come ye ge’ tha Prophe’.”, her expected change had arrived.
“From me frien’ Barney. ’E’s runnin’ tha Blin’ Beggar down tha stree’. Goo’ mate. Promise’ me ta ’elp me fin’ a new job.”, Severus finally looked up.
“Ye los’ yer job?”, Hermione could see a very prejudiced glitter in Severus’ eyes and, by the look of his father, wasn’t the only one.
“Jus’ las’ week.”, Tobias sighed. “Din’ turn up, so they sack’d me, those dum’asses. Before Christmas! Tol’ ’em I wan’ed ta see me gran’son, bu’ you can imagine tha reaction.”, Severus nodded sadly, but he carried on. “Nobody knows I go’ another son; or as it’s actually; you go’ a son. An’ wha’ ta tell ’em? Tha’ I spied on ’Arry Potter? They’d ’ve said `’Arry who?´ an’ kick’d me ou’ neverth’less.”, he growled and startled when Severus had gently taken his hand.
“I could ’ave a word wit’ ’em,”
“No.”, suddenly there was panic in Tobias’ face and voice.
“They’d no’ even know they’d fired ye,”
“Never min’, son. Din’ like tha’ job anyway.”, he coughed and scratched his neck with his free hand.
“Dad,”, Severus warned but was waived.
“Really. I’ll fin’ somethin’ better after Christmas. Some par’ o’ tha’ strange life’s generous anyway. I’d gone two years ago already if i’ ’adn’ been for some strange fortune.”
Suddenly blackness swallowed the scene and she was back in the bedroom. Soft grey light fell through the window and thick snowflakes danced outside. The clock on the desk told her that it was quarter to eight o’clock in the morning on the twenty-eighth of December. A sound caught her ear and when she recognised it, her insides crumpled. Swallowing and unwilling to turn, she nevertheless took her eyes off the clock. Severus sat on the bed, in pyjamas, and his father was asleep, his lips ajar. But seeing him holding the slack hand that stuck out of the messed blanket as well and burying his face in the other that supported his head on his thigh, she didn’t need hearing him cry or watch his body shake to know what had actually happened.
Biting her own lips, Hermione couldn’t hold back tears either, that shot to her eyes. And though she had heard the news before, though she had known what she would be watching, by the pain that erupted in her chest, she knew that she had to go looking for her parents, as soon as she could. She felt so much guilt in that moment, about never having asked him – how he could – possibly –
Another sound distracted her. Someone had opened the front door and closed it behind. Careful footsteps drew near, eventually finding the open bedroom door. His wand in hand, wearing a snow-covered black winter coat over a black suit and a fur cap on his silvery waves, the familiar man searched the room with interest, at last finding the other two on the bed.
“Severus, my friend! What is this place? Why did you want me to – Severus?”, it had taken him quite a while to realise what was going on, Hermione thought, when he aspirated in Russian for some moments, walked over and knelt down on the floor in front of him. “Severus?”, Igor moaned quietly with his wand back in his sleeve, trying to pull away his friend’s supporting arm. “Is he – ?”, Severus only whimpered. “Oh goodness – come here.”, he had some trouble pulling the seesawing Severus in his arms, but when he managed to; now kneeling between his spread legs; he placed a calming kiss on the black head he rested his cheek on then. “Let go of him.”, Igor said softly; she had never heard him speak so calm – and calming, but Severus shook his head with a gut-wrenching, muffled cry into his shoulder. “Sh. Let go. He is with your mother now. You cannot help him anymore. Let her do that. Let go, Severus.”, he only clutched the hand even tighter. “Severus? Who is – ?”
Hermione had heard the sound as well that had made him raise his head. Someone else had come through the door and the clanking told her instantly who the second newcomer was. The famous bowler hat sat askew to hide his magical eye and he wore a black suit too, over which he had thrown a black travelling cloak that had been landing field to some snow flakes, just like the hat. She quickly stepped around to see both men’s faces when they were confronted with one another. They were slightly confused, but mostly shocked and a little angry even.
“You!”, they growled at once, but Severus had lifted his head and calmed them muttering.
“’T’s – righ’. I called – you both. We’re all – on the same – side, Alastor.”
“I highly doubt that, boy, but you always had strange reasons for things you never told anyone.”, Mad-Eye chuckled hollow. “Get him up there, Karkaroff. They’ll soon notice something’s missing.”
“Missing?”
“And I’m parking on the pavement.”
“You got it?”, Severus finally let go of his father’s hand and wiped off his tears with the back of his own.
“Sure I got it.”
“Did anyone see you?”
“Not yet.”
“Good.”, he signified Igor that he could stand up on his own. “How much time do you think we have?”
“Not much. I’ve had a quick glance on the bus stop. There’ll be one coming in ten minutes. You want him out right then?”
“Think so.”, Severus now withdrew his clothes from the previous day plus a fresh pair of socks and underpants from his pouch and changed quicker than she had ever seen him do, but with an odd precision. “Where have you stolen it?”, he asked.
“Up in Bethnal Green Road, only a two minutes drive from here. They’ve got their own parking area right behind the church.“
“Any place for Disapparating there?”, he closed the last buttons of his sleeves and picked his wand from the nightstand.
“A narrow rubbish dump behind a wall, just between.”
“Wonderful. We bring him there; you take the watch, Alastor, we two carry him invisible.”
“Damn it, boy. Your father died and you’ve got nothing better to do than being a scheming scoundrel. No wonder that bugger of a self-proclaimed king trusts you.”, Severus escaped an exhausted chuckle on that and he checked the clock.
“Five minutes to go.”, he noted. “Have you got the plastic sack I asked for?”
“I have it here.”, Igor pulled it from one of his front pockets and watched Severus enlarge it on the floor after he had enchanted it with some quiet muttering of Latin words she remembered well. “What are you – ”
“Packing.”, Severus sighed.
It was quite impressive to see the articles pile up while they floated down, and sorted themselves into numbers of empty folders that had come from opening drawers of the desk. Those folders, along with some that must contain documents, settled down in the sack and disappeared into an apparent nowhere. Next was the huge frame on the wall, all clothes from the wardrobe, the clock on the desk, the curtains and; Mad-Eye had to hop aside; several books from the living room and corridor, followed by some dishes, glasses, cutlery, food, drinks, the empty crystal ashtray, toilet utensils, towels, all records, the gramophone including its table, the wireless radio; which he gave a flick in between for a dumbfounded Mad-Eye to catch it; more curtains and last but not least, the still decorated gum tree in its pot.
The plastic sack shrunk, knotted and lifted itself and was caught before it then went into his pouch that he smoothly slipped under his clothes. Those buttoned up at last, he pulled a silver ring from a toe of his, stuck it on his right ring finger and finally put on his black socks and clean black shoes.
If any of them; Hermione implied; had been a little faint hearted, they might have left him with confusion on the oddity of his action. But the two men just stared at one another while Severus bound his laces manually, Hermione’s eyes travelling between them, ignoring the voice in her head trying to tell her that he would still be wearing a ring on the same toe long after that Christmas, but of a different colour.
“We’ll be needing a stretcher.”, he said almost composed after he had straightened, doing with his eyes what Hermione’s did.
Still thunderstruck, Igor raised his richly ornamented reddish wand and the bulb unscrewed itself, stopping floating between them as a perfect stretcher. Mad-Eye meanwhile lifted the wireless radio up to his face, studying it like a little child.
“Didn’t you frequently tell me you want one?”, Severus grumbled while Igor helped him heaving his father onto the stretcher, carefully wrapped in the blanket.
“Yes – I – I did – ”
“Well, Merry Christmas.”, he sighed, close to tears again.
“Thanks. Er – right – let’s – let’s get going then,”
This time she was faster and hurried outside before they did. By that she could witness a phenomenon of memory watching: instead of the front door, there was just black fog in the corridor that slowly formed from it when they started walking. Indeed none of the books were left. Throwing back a weary glance, she left the empty flat once the door had sprung open.
“It doesn’t work.”, Severus noted when Mad-Eye approached the lift, but he pressed the call button and the doors slid open.
“Did you think, I came walking all the way up here? I know people call me mad, but I’m not insane.”, holding his wand out, he took the stretcher from Igor and levitated it inside, where he at last covered the dead man’s head with the blanket. “See you downstairs.”
Again everything was just fog, but this time it was grey and she could see the floors rushing by. She was flying with them to the ground floor where they landed gently the moment the lift doors opened and Igor actually took two of the handles. Mad-Eye transformed the other two into a single bar so he could carry it better. Severus, having thrown over the hood of his winter cloak, opened the front door for them and stepped into the cold air she still couldn’t feel. Not daring to consider how macabre it was, Hermione ran through the stretcher to join him.
A double-decker rushed by when they brought him down the last stairs, towards a van that stood on the pavement just like Mad-Eye had said and she could see a familiar figure coming in the distance, pulling a holdall and carrying a big handbag on the other shoulder. When he opened the boot lid of the black mortuary van for them, thick tears were trailing down from Severus’ swollen eyes once more and they met the old woman’s who stopped her stunningly fast shuffling down at the corner.
Having fixed the stretcher, Igor crawled back out and offered Severus a hand, which he took gratefully. Hermione hopped in as well and Mad-Eye closed the lid. She couldn’t fully see him limping around the car due to the closed black curtains, but he entered it on the offside and slammed the door shut with such force, both Severus and Igor jumped. He secured his walking stick by the gear lever, tapped his wand at the fascia and the engine sprung to life.
Only needing to accelerate, brake and steer, he drove the van over the pavement until he turned it sharply at a narrow free parking lot shortly before a fence. By then, Severus was leaning against Igor who held him tight again and stroked his head he had freed from the thick hood. Severus’ eyes were wide open and Hermione knew that only now, he started to realise what had really happened.
Probably to cheer him up, Igor started singing a quiet song. He had a quite good singing voice, but his attempt of Gaelic didn’t fully work as she could tell by the annoyed look that drifted into Severus’ face. The Russian words he murmured at him weren’t too difficult for her to understand. They meant as much as `shut up if you don’t want me to kill you with your own eyelashes´. That only made him skip to a rather lively Russian song in minor key in mid sentence she knew from somewhere, but couldn’t remember at the moment from where. Mad-Eye joined in, though with rather pathetic pronunciation, as well as being much less a nightingale.
“Shut up,”, but Igor pulled the lines into clangorous chant, making Mad-Eye guffaw and Severus roll his eyes, huffing madly. “Shu’ – ”, he continued louder, “Will ye – ”, he squirmed free of his arms, pressed up his jaw and locked his lips with his fingers in addition, however Igor sang on inside with a big grin on his freckled cheeks.
“Calm yourselves, guys. We’re here.”
Mad-Eye drove the car into a deserted alley and past a high church. At the back end he turned it right and parked it by the previously described wall. Igor had calmed with a last chuckle and smirk and slightly patted on Severus’ head before he pushed the hood back over and straightened his own cap. The lid was opened for them and she found them – half invisible. Looking down on her own hands, it astonished her to see that even she was in that state though she was only watching them get Tobias out, without the stretcher though. They fought a silent battle of looks about who would carry him, which Igor won with a definite stare. Mad-Eye merely rolled his normal eye and she was sure the other did something completely different under the hat’s shadow.
“Are you done with it?”, he mumbled when he gave the lid a closing flick and locked the van, then leading them back into the alley and through a paled gate that connected the brick wall to the church.
It grated open for them and Severus linked arms with Igor, beside a number of wheelie bins. Rattling, the chain slid into its former position when the door closed and Mad-Eye took Severus’ free arm, the invisibility devolving upon him.
“Where?”, asked Igor.
“You know where.”, Severus answered whacked and a second of darkness later they appeared silently and visible again under an old tree, surrounded by snow covered graves.
Nobody was outside. After his necessary security check, Mad-Eye gave them a nod and they let go. Igor went ahead. Taking a look around, Hermione gasped. She had been to that graveyard before, only a day and some hours in difference, two years in future to what she watched now. Not noticing the sorrowful look that distorted her face, she followed the little procession around the church. Everything was white; even the sky had a very light shade of grey; and thick snow swayed down on them as they pulled a track through the untouched ground.
Rolled in but growing with every breath, some sort of creature began to fill her stomach constantly as she realised in which direction they were going. Mad-Eye laid his free arm around Severus’ back. That and the slow pace made him limp a little less, but she could feel the being inside her shrink slightly. Though instead, a smaller one was born in her throat, doing the same and by the moment they arrived at the marble gravestone, her mouth stood widely open so as to breathe. But she could hardly do so. As if she cried the very same tears Severus did, wiping them away was no use to her eyesight.
With a quiet snap, a snow covered slab slid aside. It had laid on the grave left to what she had looked at. Severus had broken away and walked around Igor to pull a lifeless hand from beneath the blanket. On the little finger, he slowly pushed the ring he had carried until then, being a smaller twin to the ring on the finger next to it. His trembling hands didn’t make it easy for him, but he tucked the arm back in, pulled down the blanket just enough to bare his fathers head that was lying against the shoulder above Igor’s strong arms and placed a soft kiss on his forehead. Crying silently, he nestled his face to his father’s, something Hermione comprised he might have never done when he had still been alive. But then again, he may have done so, during those late days they had spent together.
Gentle but firm, Mad-Eye pulled him close and his knees gave in, the moment Igor knelt down and levitated Tobias into the grave none other but him dared to look inside. It was then that Hermione saw the names and dates carved into the grey Runic cross. They were in Gaelic runes, but she could read them, ashamed that she hadn’t deigned the cross a look at her actual visit. On top, there were some members of the Dunnahars, including the famous sisters, further down a number of Peverells, then came the name Prince. Last in the row, Eileen Amalia. Hermione bit into her fist, trying to cry as silent as Severus did. It didn’t matter that no one could hear her. She didn’t want to disturb the peace of the dead.
Hands folded, Igor lowered his head and the slab slid over the grave again, coming to rest as though nothing had happened. Severus pulled his wand and directed it onto the cross. To steady his terribly shaking hand, Mad-Eye wrapped his own around it and Severus wrote in the air. Simultaneously, runes appeared on the ancient stone below Eileen’s name and dates. Their meaning was as simple.
Tobias Franklin Snape, born 27 April 1937, died 28 December 1995
He closed the list; either knowingly or in hope; with a long sentence:
Our Hearts beat as one ever on, ’cross Time’s rivers of agony
and when the road hath reach’d its ending and we there meet our Master,
unit’d forever we shall be, and block the well to stop the rivers’ flow
“There’s – ”, Severus inhaled deeply and swallowed down the creature, “A certain Barney we’ve go’ ter visi’. Dad would’ve wanted ter say goodbye ter ’im.”
Two more tears fell from ebony pearls into the rivers and Hermione was pulled back through blackness, facing an empty fireplace behind a shining bowl, all that could have been there, washed from her eyes. She didn’t hear Draco clap his book shut or see him gaze at her. She didn’t even notice his hand that found its way onto her back just like Mad-Eye’s had had on Severus’, two and a half years ago. There was only emptiness. A hole as deep as a grave, where a mother, a brother, a father, a life’s eternal true love and every single friend had fallen in, never to come back again, not until the last would finally meet their Master. I have a job to do, she heard that distant voice – and finally understood. It would still not be easy to accept, but she understood at last, somehow.
~~#~~