"Hermione," Noah called from the door leading to his office when she was walking by. It looked like he'd been just going in himself.
He'd finished his Salem witch trials unit on Monday, so she didn't have a reason to spend time with him on campus as she had until just last week. She had no reason to be in class for the test he'd given Monday. Before, and until the unit ended, they had a legitimate reason to spend time in his office. She missed it. Other than the other graduate students in the department, she'd never really had reason to work so closely with someone before. Douglas had never pushed her into being, essentially, a teacher's assistant for a unit before.
She'd never asked either.
He had a valid point, though. How was she ever going to know if she wanted to teach or not if she didn't do it. She could admit, the weeks of preparation followed by the two weeks of assisting in class and taking a day's lesson herself. Well, it did give her a bit of a taste for it.
Enough of a taste to be in a class regularly again that it was a little disappointing being done. She'd liked assisting with the unit. When they'd first met, she could tell that he absolutely had no interest in a graduate student assisting him with anything.
Yeah, he gave off an air of being a bit of a pompous jerk. He still did to some a couple of months into the semester. Not to the students who took his classes, though. She hadn't sat in on any except the North American History class, but the students were all clearly attentive and even laughed a few times.
Most importantly, at least from her experience as a student, many engaged with him. Some didn't, as was typical of courses like this people just took for the credit. Maybe most impressively, he engaged with them. She was coming to learn, though, that he just wasn't very good with people. Why he became a teacher, she wasn't exactly sure. Teaching came with dealing with people daily.
She observed the students in the class she assisted in, and they clearly listened to him. Many thought he kind of deserved to be a pompous jerk because he was incredibly prepared.
History was a difficult subject to teach, and to keep people focused on. She knew this taking the introductory level classes others had to take to meet a requirement of some sort in their major.
He managed it.
He wasn't the type to give a pop quiz to punish anyone who wasn't there (except once).
He went the opposite way.
At the end of the unit before theirs, he had everyone write a paragraph on what they enjoyed most about the unit. Everyone received points for filling it out. She'd read through the comments after he had, and she got a little teary at the idea of this man being on the receiving end of mostly positive feedback. She didn't think Severus Snape had ever gotten positive feedback.
He did the same for their unit. She was looking forward to reading them.
She discovered that she liked teaching. Enough to pursue it? She wasn't sure yet. She knew Minerva would like it if she chose that path. She just wasn't sure what she'd do in the magical world wanting to teach history. Would she teach a lesson or a unit again? Yes.
"Close the door, please," he said.
She did, wondering if she'd done something wrong. She didn't think so. In fact, they hadn't seen much of one another aside from Friday or Saturday night the past couple of weeks.
She'd gone to Hogwarts every weeknight, searching the library. She had already read just about every book they had on memory spells, charms, or notated alterations because of her parents, but it had been a few years. She was hoping maybe she'd missed something the first five times she looked through the material.
Unfortunately, it didn't seem as if she had missed anything at all.
It was frustrating because she was hoping to find something! That the emotions involved when she was researching because of her parents had made her miss a spell or something.
"You have been busy the past couple of weeks," he said.
"Well, yes, that's part of being a graduate student from my understanding."
He chuckled. His eyes, though, looked relieved.
"So, it's nothing I've done? Our unit preparations and then being in the classroom with me?"
"Oh, no," she said. She hadn't realized he'd think that. "Not at all."
"Okay. I just wasn't sure if maybe it was too much time together?"
Honestly, she thought it was maybe good to not jump in to spending every day with him. She still couldn't believe she'd fallen asleep on him! Obviously, she trusted him, but it was likely her subconscious thinking he looked like Severus so he had to be trustworthy, too.
Stupid, because when it got down to it, she knew very little about Noah Davies.
"No."
"Are you busy this weekend?"
"Actually, I am," she said.
That was another thing she'd done with her evenings.
She'd researched Noah Davies.
There was nothing suspicious about him or his parents on paper. She'd asked Harry to go past their home to ensure it (and they) actually existed. She didn't think her doing that would be wise.
Obviously, if his memories had been altered, this wasn't what she'd done with her parents.
There was nothing about anything he said or did that would make anyone think he wasn't Noah Davies. They'd talked about many things that occurred prior to the past six years. He had memories of his childhood. Lots of them. He had a relationship with his parents. She hadn't met them, but when he spoke of them, it was in the present tense, so they were obviously real and involved with his life.
Harry had gone under the pretense of reports of a crime in the area. He said there were pictures in their sitting room of Noah spanning decades. Not just Noah either, which had been her first question. His parents, one or the other or both, were in some, too. So, there was physical proof of Noah Davies being a child.
Harry said they were nice, as nice as could be in a ten minute conversation. The house was a nice one. Not a vast estate, but certainly something that suggested his dad did well over the years.
She was pretty sure Noah mentioned getting texts from them while they were together. Fake people couldn't send text messages. Harry couldn't meet and talk to fake people.
If he was Severus, whoever had done this, was exceptionally thorough.
And Hermione found herself impressed.
As well as her interest being incredibly piqued about how it might have been done.
Assuming he was Severus Snape anyway.
"Oh?" He didn't look suspicious or as if he thought she was lying.
"Um, Harry's mum and dad died on Halloween. We usually do something to commemorate. A couple of years ago we spent a weekend in Cokeworth. Have you ever been?"
She kind of wished they were going to Cokeworth this weekend. It would be interesting to go past the Snape home and see if it was still there. They'd walked past it during their weekend there, but hadn't had any reason to look too closely at the property or home.
He looked thoughtful for a moment, shaking his head. Thoughtful, not shocked or surprised she'd said that town. "No, I'm afraid not."
"That's where his mum, Lily Evans, grew up."
"I see." Again, nothing to indicate what she'd said was familiar at all to him.
"This year we're spending the weekend in Godric's Hollow."
"Is that where his father grew up?" he asked. No hatred or ridicule in his voice with that question.
"No, it's where his parents died."
"On Halloween?"
"Yes, in 1981," she said.
"Tragic," he said. He gave a tsk. It was sort of nice. She wished Harry could see it. He was probably envisioning a couple taking their young toddler out trick-or-treating being killed or something.
"It is. You would've been twenty? Almost twenty-one?"
"Mm, yes."
"In school, I suppose?"
He frowned a bit at that, nodding, but she could tell that he was thinking something. These things were where she thought she'd … get somewhere.
If he was, in fact, truly Severus Snape.
Talking to him about 1998 forward wasn't going to do her any good. Those memories would be real. He truly would have had the experiences he remembered over the past six years.
"They were the same age as you. Twenty-one, I mean. James and Lily," she said.
She really hated mentioning Lily's name, but thought it was necessary.
She enjoyed the time they'd been spending together. She wasn't sure what mentioning Lily might do if memory charms were in play. That wasn't important, though. Hurt she might be if this ended, she'd get over it.
She and Harry both agreed, if he was Severus, they needed to figure out a way to help him remember. Or at least find out if this was something he'd done to himself. If that was the case, they both agreed they'd probably need to leave it alone.
"You know, twenty and married with a child. There are times I question why I'm not married, but I'm not sure I was ready for all of that then."
"Well, I'm glad that you're not," she said, dipping her head a bit because she knew she was blushing. And had likely said too much. She'd enjoyed getting to know this man. Seeing him in a classroom, teaching students wanting to impart knowledge on them without fear or insults as part of the curriculum.
He was good.
"As am I, it's just," he shrugged. "Anyway. All right. That's what I get for waiting until the last minute to ask, I apologize I didn't sooner. I presumed I'd see you this week."
"Oh, right, it's okay. I've been going home as soon as I'm done this week. I'm not offended or anything."
"Can I put a claim in ahead of time for next weekend?"
"Sure. Friday or Saturday?"
He closed the distance between them then, sliding his arms around her. She breathed in, a bit surprised as his mouth claimed hers. She gave a soft groan as he drew her closer against him. Her lips parted a second before his, and her tongue sought his before darting away. And finding it again.
Morgana, she shouldn't be doing this.
Until she knew for sure who he was, she shouldn't. Things could change drastically if she discovered his memories had been altered somehow. He could be mad that she knew - or suspected - who he was and snogged him.
He seemed to … sense her predicament because he drew away. He looked a little confused, but not upset or hurt that she was obviously thinking something while kissing him. That was good, because she couldn't completely turn her mind off.
"Might I convince you to allow me to claim both?"
"Um, if you want both, sure," she said, sounding both shy and a bit uncertain.
"Harry is always at your flat weekends?"
"Yes, unless he has to work or something that keeps him away."
"Maybe ask him to be there, so that we ensure your Crookshanks is tended to?"
Her eyes widened. He was …
"No expectations," he added quickly. "But perhaps the idea of you not having to go home to care for him, and planning to fall asleep on the couch together while watching a film, if the nights go in that direction, and breakfast together in my kitchen wouldn't be offensive?"
"Oh, right, sure. Yes, I can mention it to Harry this weekend."
"I think I'm glad he and I get along."
She smiled with a soft laugh. She couldn't help it. How odd that statement was! He obviously had no idea why she'd find it funny. Or odd.
"I will see you next week then. I'll bring you coffee Monday morning so you can save yourself that. I'd say have a nice weekend, but that doesn't seem very appropriate."
"No, it's okay. It's not as morbid as it sounds. He never really had the chance to visit these places until we were done with school. Petunia and Vernon, his aunt and uncle. Well, they weren't very good to him. So, we just try to do something that he feels is connected to his parents around Halloween."
"Understandable."
He kissed her again before she drew away. She had to get back to her office and get her things.
*****
"So, he's inviting you to stay the night with him. Two nights," Harry said as they waited for their breakfast to be brought to them.
It was the first chance she'd had to tell him about next weekend. They'd have dinner at the pub in Godric's Hollow later tonight. She wasn't sure if it was good or bad that they were here, and he wanted to talk about her love life. He'd already had one person come up and say hello to him. Hermione wasn't surprised. He was Harry Potter and there was a statue of him and his parents in this very town. So, of course he'd be recognized.
"Right?" He added, seemingly as an afterthought.
"I guess."
"Um, Hermione. He's ensuring Crookshanks won't starve. That's what he's doing. I mean, maybe he was a little more polite about it than guys our age would be, but that's what he's saying. Do you want to spend the weekend with him?"
"I think so, but I'm not sure." She really wasn't sure it would be the right thing to do, and not make things more blurred. More difficult. More odd.
"Okay then. You're an adult, I'm not going to lecture you. Just remember your potion and, since we don't know he's Severus, ensure he uses protection."
"Harry!"
"Hey, don't be mad at me for caring you don't get a disease!"
"I know, I just…" Morgana, she hadn't even gotten to the point of them having sex in her head. He didn't seem as if he was inviting her assuming they'd end up naked in his bed together. He truly just seemed as if he wanted time with her.
"We'll stop this weekend and buy some."
"I am not going to bring condoms!"
"Why not? You certainly can. And should."
She blushed then. Morgana.
"You don't have to tell him you have them, unless things go that way and he doesn't have any. He's a forty-five year old man. He'd have to realize you'd expect him to use one."
"I guess."
"And if he won't wear one. Well, that says something about him."
Yeah, she knew some men would say or do anything to get out of wearing a condom. Somehow she didn't think Noah would be like that. And thinking about condoms was making her wonder what his bedroom looked like. What his sheets looked like. And if his hands were as agile as they seemed when she watched him do things like chop and dice vegetables or grade papers.
"You wear them?"
"Every time."
"Really?" she asked.
"Yes. It doesn't matter if she's muggle or not. You know, when Ginny and I were dating, the idea of having kids right away seemed great. I think it was a knee jerk reaction to wanting what I never had. Now that we've been, you know, apart for a few years."
Ginny was married to Theodore Nott, Hermione knew. Hermione had no idea how that relationship happened. Harry might, because he likely had to read about it as it unfolded in the Daily Prophet, while Hermione didn't read it every day. She didn't have to, because she had Harry and Minerva to tell her anything she really needed to know. They seemed happy, from the couple of pictures Hermione had seen of them out together over the years. They had a daughter and Hermione was pretty sure she saw recently she was expecting another one soon. She could be wrong on that.
She knew what Harry meant, though. Ronald hadn't seemed to understand that he needed to heal after the events of the years before the final battle, too. Hermione wasn't being bitchy or a tease. She really just wanted time to figure out what she wanted to do. University wasn't of interest to Ron. (She was kind of surprised it hadn't been to Percy, truthfully, other than she imagined he would know it wasn't something he could afford.)
"It's pretty ridiculous, isn't it? Not that people do it. I mean, there will always be people who get married at eighteen. It just seems to be the expectation."
"I know. I can't even imagine having a four or five year old."
She reached over, clutching his hand. She knew it still bothered him sometimes. She imagined it was hard to see articles about Ginny and her quidditch news, knowing he was still single. And didn't have to be. He'd made a choice. He'd chosen her, and Hermione swore she'd never do anything to make him truly regret making that choice. "You'll make a great dad one day, Harry."
Another reason she'd wanted time. Ron wanted children. Like right away. She barely knew how to take care of herself let alone a husband, house, and a child. It had taken him a couple of years, but he was married now. Harry didn't know the witch, beyond that she was from France he thought, because she'd gone to Beauxbatons.
"Thanks."
"We're not weird for wanting to know we can support them. That we were in the right frame of mind to bring children into this world."
She knew this was an argument he had with himself often.
"I know."
Harry, of course, had the Potter estate and all that went with it. He also had Sirius' things. She had her parents' estate, which was not nearly as vast as Harry's. She did okay, though. She'd found her flat near campus and, one day, when she was done with graduate school she'd find her own home.
Still, though, both of them wanted to know that they could do it without that. Those monies, those things they'd inherited, shouldn't be spent or used on everyday expenses unless they absolutely had to be.
"The thing is…" she said.
"Yes?"
"I think I want to. I like him. I'm attracted to him in that way and everything, but I'm not sure that I should."
"Why not?"
"If he is Severus."
She sighed softly.
"What if he gets his memories back and realizes he still loves your mum?"
"Come on, Hermione. I don't think he loved her like that after all those years."
"But…"
"No, seriously. I've had a lot of time to think about this. Sirius and I have talked about it."
Hermione rolled her eyes at that, which caused Harry to smirk.
Harry, in taking over ownership of Grimmauld Place, discovered Sirius had somehow managed to commission a portrait in between escaping Azkaban and being sucked into the Veil. The only instructions that came with it were that it was to be placed anywhere his mother's portrait could see and hear it.
Problem that, since Walburga Black's portrait was kept covered. It didn't stop Sirius from taunting her, though. At least according to Harry.
She was grateful, she supposed that it was thirty-five year old, and not eighteen year old, Sirius Black in the portrait. She'd take anything teenaged Sirius said with a grain of salt.
"Sirius?"
"Yes. You know," he shrugged. "Sometimes I need to talk to someone who knew Mum and Dad."
"I get it, Harry," she said, reaching over and squeezing his hand.
"Anyway, he says that he doesn't think Severus was in love with my mum. At least not anymore. He thinks he was when they were in Hogwarts. He says that guilt played a huge role in it, and likely the headmaster kept reminding him of those feelings. His guilt."
"He wouldn't…" she closed her mouth mid-protest, realizing that after everything they'd learned about Headmaster Albus Dumbledore.
Well, he very likely would - and probably did - do that.
"Sirius thinks he would if it kept Severus from changing sides again."
"I don't think Severus would have changed sides again," she said.
She really didn't. She didn't pretend to know the man well or anything, but she really believed he changed his opinion on what Voldemort was attempting. Not because of Lily. Not to pay off some debt. Not because he felt guilty.
"We know that, even Sirius does now that he has all of the facts, but he wasn't sure Albus did."
Hermione huffed with a shake of her head.
"I don't know. I just, it's only been a month. I will see him every day for at least the rest of this school year. I don't want there to be something awkward between us."
"You think it'll be awkward?"
"I think adding sex into things this soon, when I still don't know who he is for sure, could create awkwardness. Or, even if he really is Noah Davies, what if either of us decides next month we aren't compatible."
"Mm," Harry said. "Yeah. Remember Madeline?"
"Yes," she said, knowing she was probably looking at him strangely. He'd gone out on a few dates with Madeline Forrester shortly after he finished his auror training.
"That's why she and I never went further than a few dates."
"Ah," Hermione said. She wasn't an auror, but she did work for the DMLE. "Smart," she said.
"Yeah. I have to work with her sometimes, so I'm very glad we ended things amicably. Both of us came to the same conclusion."
Unlike Ginevra Weasley went left unsaid.
"Well, I'll be prepared for Crooks duty. Maybe you'll fall asleep like you did the night he was at your place."
"Don't remind me."
"He carried you to bed," he said, waggling those eyebrows.
"He was just being nice."
"I don't think so. I wouldn't have carried you to bed."
She scoffed with a low laugh. "No, I guess you wouldn't have."
Quiet as she thought over whether she wanted to even tempt herself - or him - into going to that step. It just seemed so quick.
"You haven't told Sirius?"
"No! I won't tell anyone until you tell me there's something to tell. You're the brains in this."
"You're smart, Harry."
"Thanks for saying so, but we both know I'm not like you. That's beside the point. I won't tell anyone. Like I said, he and I have talked, you know. Sirius I mean. Lily was my mum. So Severus comes up sometimes."
A thought occurred to her.
Thinking back to what Harry had just said about the headmaster, how he might have used Lily to keep Severus in line. More or less. That's what Sirius was suggesting the headmaster was doing. Using Lily Potter, her memory, to ensure Severus did what Albus asked of him.
Did he know what was going on? Did he know who Noah Davies was? And why the man looked like Severus Snape? And even had an affinity for chemistry? Not entirely unusual for a man in his forties, but still. An odd coincidence.
At least she found it a bit odd.
"Hermione," Harry said.
"Huh?"
"Where'd you go?"
She shrugged. "Just thinking. Sorry."
Their breakfast was brought then and they both tucked in. Severus, Sirius, Albus, and thoughts of anything else went away for a while. Hermione was determined that Harry would have all of her attention this weekend. This was the first time they'd been to Godric's Hollow since Christmas 1997. She was pretty sure he hadn't wanted to come back here until now, afraid somehow that if Voldemort hadn't really been defeated that Godric's Hollow was where he'd expect Harry to show up eventually.
Harry knew the other wizard was truly dead. That wasn't it. It was a process. Hermione just knew that her best friend wasn't ready to come to Godric's Hollow until now. And there was absolutely nothing wrong with that.
*****
Minerva didn't like it, but she left her office after requesting all but Albus' portrait be emptied. Hermione asked her to make that request, knowing most wouldn't listen to her if she'd asked it.
That left Hermione and Albus Dumbledore alone. She'd never been alone with the headmaster.
In theory they were alone anyway.
She knew how the portraits worked.
Someone could be hovering near the frame and still hear snippets. It was how Severus was able to get the sword to them in the Forest of Dean. Phineas Black had been listening from within her bag.
It didn't matter, really. She just wanted the appearance of being able to have a private conversation with the former headmaster. She didn't see any of these portraits rushing out to tell anyone what she said here today. They liked gossip from what she read and heard, but she was pretty sure they'd want Severus Snape safe.
And a Severus Snape not knowing who he was could be in danger if others found out he was alive and well. She'd never come across anyone magical, that she knew, on campus. That didn't mean there weren't any, though.
"Hello, Sir," she said finally.
He seemed to allow her her silence as she regarded the man in the portrait. She appreciated that.
"Hello to you, Miss Granger. You are doing well? Minerva has told me that you continue to get top marks. Not that anyone, least of all me, is surprised by that. You are in your last year of your graduate studies?"
He knew she was. He was in his portrait every time she visited Minerva. She never understood why, because he stayed or returned to it if he wasn't in it whenever she visited the headmistress. So, he had been privy to most all of their conversations over the years.
Including the fact she was entering her last year.
"I am, thank you, Sir."
"Good. I presume Minerva has already spoken to you about a possible return to Hogwarts, so I'll refrain from being excessively repetitive. I also presume that your career options when done with university in the spring is not the reason for this visit today."
Smart wizard. Dead or alive. She had feelings about Albus Dumbledore. None of them were ever based or rooted in believing he was an idiot.
"She has," Hermione said with a slight smile. Minerva was not very subtle about conveying her hopes that the end of her schooling would bring her back to Hogwarts. "And you're right that's not why I'm here."
Where to even start. Even Harry hadn't totally believed her, until he actually saw Noah Davies. If Harry, the person who knew her best, didn't realize how sincere she'd been thinking Noah could be Severus Snape. Well, how could anyone else recognize how serious she was about thinking it was true. Would she be so … convinced if she hadn't done what she had to her parents? She had no idea.
She took a deep breath. Time to get on with this. She was never going to find out if she didn't ask.
"I was wondering. Did you do something to Severus Snape?"
"You'll have to be more specific, Miss Granger."
She supposed that was a rather open-ended question, casting a rather large net. Obviously, this wizard had done more than simply something with (to) the other wizard.
She fished a picture of Noah Davies out of her front hoodie pocket. She felt a bit like a stalker, finding his faculty picture on the university website and printing it off. She hadn't known how else to bring "him" here. She'd have to show him why she was here asking these questions. She knew that.
She approached the headmaster's portrait and held the picture up for him to look at.
"This man started teaching undergraduate History at my university this semester."
"Did he?" the headmaster asked.
He sounded not just curious, but intrigued. That was … promising.
"Yes, Sir. He has an interest in chemistry, too. That was his original major, he says."
There was a look in the portrait wizard's eyes that made Hermione wish he knew the man better. She had no idea what it meant, but thought she saw … affection there.
"Your question, Miss Granger."
"Is this man Severus Snape? I wouldn't think it possible if I wasn't a witch. Did you, or someone, do something to where he wouldn't know who he is? Was? Used to be?"
"Why do you think that?"
"Because he looks and sounds exactly like him, Sir. He has a tattoo on his left arm. He has a birthmark on his neck that, if I'm not mistaken, would be in the same place he was bitten during the final battle."
She didn't know that for sure because, honestly, where exactly he'd been bitten hadn't been forefront on her mind in the Shrieking Shack that day. She knew it was close enough that she'd added it to her list.
"And once more, Miss Granger. What precisely is your question?"
"I want to know if you, or someone else, did it? Or if he did it?"
"Mm," he said, eyes darting between her and (she presumed) the picture she held of Noah Davies.
"The only thing that doesn't match is their date of birth. Noah, Mr. Davies, was born January 19, 1960. Close enough to Severus' date of birth that it made me more suspicious, not less. Like someone thought making his birthday the nineteenth instead of the ninth would seem less obvious. I tried mentioning things like Cokeworth and Godric's Hollow just last week to see if he recognized anything."
Silence as the portrait wizard regarded her. She fought the urge to fidget, as if she was here in this office for some offense she'd committed. She was twenty-five years old. This man could no longer give her detention, suspend, or expel her.
"And what do you hope to accomplish?"
"Well, that would depend."
"On?" he prompted, sounding amused and intrigued more than irritated by her vague answer.
"If this was done to him, not something he did himself, I think he should have the choice whether he wants to live as a muggle or not."
"And if he's … happy not remembering?"
"Would he really be, though, Sir? I don't claim to know Severus Snape very well. Admittedly, I hardly knew him at all. However, I know how I would feel if I discovered that someone … toyed with my mind. If my memories of magic, of being a witch, were taken from me. Even in between wars he stayed in the magical world, so that tells me he is fond of it."
"Did you not do that very thing to your parents, Miss Granger?"
"To save their lives! They wouldn't listen to me. And they were not magical, so removing their knowledge of magic wasn't taking something away from them."
"And yet, they died anyway."
He certainly didn't pull any punches.
She couldn't blame him, she supposed. She just wouldn't have expected this man to be so blunt about it. It wasn't as if he hadn't done some morally grey things over the years.
"In a car accident. Certainly a more pleasant end than what Anton Dolohov or Bellatrix LeStrange would have had in store for them if they'd been caught. You and I both know they would have been brutalized. My fault, I suppose, for not telling them how bad things got. I don't know when the last time you were tortured is, Sir, or struck by a curse you didn't ask someone to cast against you."
"Miss Granger."
"My point is, Sir. Are fake memories that still haven't given him much of a life better than the reality worth it? I suppose he's nicer than Severus Snape overall, but he still seems very alone. He has a relationship with his parents, and talks of a few friends. He's traveled some, but with his mum or alone. I mean, I guess that is an improvement from his real memories. And there's more."
"Oh?"
This was followed by a low chuckle that sounded exactly like she remembered Albus Dumbledore's laugh. It made her … wish she didn't know the things about this man she did now. Not to say that he was evil, but he did some very questionable things in the name of defeating Voldemort.
"I feel … drawn to him."
Silence.
"The first time he touched me, I felt like a spark. Not just that time. He hasn't said, and I haven't mentioned it, but if he felt it, too."
"If he is Severus and did this to himself, would you leave him alone?"
She shrugged. "I'd have to. If it was his choice."
"Would you continue your friendship?"
"I don't know. I'm not sure. I'd feel as if I was lying to him. Every day. I'm not sure I could live with myself. And he'd certainly know I'm feeling guilty. Even if he doesn't know legilimency, he's still very intuitive."
Another chuckle.
"Yes. I'm afraid even someone as advanced in years as I was had difficulty controlling my emotions to the point others couldn't detect them."
"But you did, Sir."
"Occlumency, Miss Granger."
"Professor Snape did that, too?"
"He did. He probably had more reason to occlude than I did, truthfully. Well, he thought he did."
"Because of Lily."
"Not entirely, but yes. Miss Granger. Why are you here?"
"I've told you."
"No. Why are you here tonight? It's late from what Minerva said. I'm afraid I don't have a sense of time in this portrait."
"No, I suppose you wouldn't. He's asked me to spend the weekend with him. Well, he implied that would be on the table."
"And you don't want to?"
"No, I do," she said, knowing she was blushing. And felt a little … weird admitting that to this man. Portrait or not. "I mean, I'd entertain the thought. I like him. He's smart and witty, and somewhat of a misfit socially as I am. I like that. We can talk for hours about a variety of topics, but are just as comfortable saying nothing about anything for a while. Of course I'm attracted to him to where spending the night with him isn't offensive. Until I know he is or isn't really Noah Davies, I'll feel as if I'm lying, or certainly withholding something huge from him. And, well, if he is Severus Snape and I know that, and that he was in love with Lily Potter…"
"You think that would be wrong?"
"I do."
She absolutely did. There were lies and there were LIES. This would be akin to those huge, life altering ones.
"And if he does remember who he is and chooses Lily…"
She shrugged. She'd thought on that a couple of times recently. Visiting Godric's Hollow made her think of it again actually, "Well, he can't really choose a dead witch beyond the memory of her. And if that's what he chooses, I wouldn't sleep with him to get him to think differently."
"You wouldn't?"
"No, Sir. I'd prefer he, or any man, like me for me not because of an orgasm."
"As you should expect to be the case."
He didn't flinch at that. Interesting. She'd expected … a reaction out of him.
"And you'd just let him go?"
She huffed. He wasn't answering her.
"I wouldn't have a choice, Sir. I mean, unless you're suggesting I'd alter his memories again to get Noah Davies back the way he is now. No, I wouldn't do that. If something was done to his memory, that's important to me. I fully intended to try to return my parents' memories to them. If there weren't testimonies here I had to participate in, I would have gone to them as soon as the war ended. I thought I'd have time, and wanted to ensure they'd be safe returning here. Maybe he hasn't met anyone else from the magical world yet, but one day he will. I'm not the only witch to go to university. There are still former followers who are not in Azkaban. Even people from the Order who don't believe he was truly acting on our side. He could be in danger and unable to even defend himself. Or, for that matter, know why he has to defend himself."
Silence. The headmaster was thinking, and Hermione decided it was best to quit talking in an attempt to make him answer her!
"Miss Granger," he said.
"Yes, Sir."
"Do you see the door to your right?"
"Yes, Sir."
"Will you take my portrait into the room with you?"
She frowned a bit. "Sure," she said.
"You should be able to lift up and a little forward from the wall."
"Yes, Sir," she said, carefully working his portrait off of its spot it had been since, as far as she knew, 1997.
"Close the door, Miss Granger."
She did as he said, setting his portrait on the floor and taking a seat in front of it.
"All right, Miss Granger. If I were to think someone had done something to Severus' memories."
"Before you continue. Is he dead?"
"Miss Granger."
"You can't tell me you don't know. He doesn't have a portrait! And I don't believe that rubbish about why he doesn't have one. His being cleared of all charges should have ensured one showed up."
"Might I continue?"
She huffed.
"Occlumency. Everyone occludes differently. Severus was the best."
"He had to be."
"He did. If it was me making such a journey into his mind, first I'd have to plan it so that he'd let me in. Memories or no, people aren't usually comfortable with that sort of eye contact. Once there, I would look for an out of place potions vial."
"Okay."
"Second. I would not expect him to be … kind to me. That spark you spoke of, Miss Granger. It's not merely because you are both magical."
She suspected that was true. She didn't feel a spark when she touched Harry, Neville, or Luna. "I don't understand."
"It's the two of you. It was one of the reasons he was as … cruel to you as he was."
Was that supposed to make sense to her?
"Sir?"
"Severus … dabbled in many things."
"Yes," she said. She was aware that Professor Snape was knowledgeable about a great many things.
"He told me once, when we'd had one too many tumblers of Ogden's a few years before Tom's return so we had time to just talk, that he'd gone to see a gypsy. This was, from my understanding, shortly after the Potters' died. His purpose since turning spy was gone."
"Lily."
"He was trying to find his purpose. He was told of a witch, one who would be his equal. It wouldn't be anytime soon. And he would know it was her when she became a cat."
She stared at his portrait, saying nothing.
"I didn't totally become a cat."
"Yes, well, think of it from his perspective. This was 1981 or so when he heard this fortune. He spent years thinking it was a joke. A mistake, as the only cat he'd ever known that could have been an option was Minerva. Needless to say, there was no romantic interest on either of their parts."
"Oh," Hermione said.
"And then."
She could imagine where this was going.
"I stole ingredients from him to make polyjuice potion that transformed me, partially, into a cat."
"You were, of course, thirteen. He railed at the very idea. I think he was more upset, actually for you than himself. At the time he'd visited the fortune teller, you would have been two, possibly three. I don't know specifically when he went. He thought he had done something. That by going when he did, on that day, that he had somehow cursed you. Of course, that's not the way it works."
"I would have known before now if he was my soul mate, Sir."
"How and when would you have come up with this information?"
Valid point. It wasn't like she had reason to touch him, or spend any time with him, until recently.
"I'm not just talking about a soul mate, Miss Granger. Though, it's a reasonable explanation. This was something far baser and more elemental than that. It was Fate. Your paths were destined to cross. If not at Hogwarts, you still would have found a way. As it seems you have. I'm not surprised he came by a position at your university. And to someone like Severus who had never experienced true friendship or kindness, let alone love. Well."
"He thought because our paths crossed when I was twelve that the fortune teller was suggesting he would mistreat me while I was a student."
He chuckled. "That's a polite way of putting it, yes. He would never…"
"I'm aware, Sir."
"And then you showed up the following year as your polyjuice potion mishap with your familiar."
"A cat," she said.
Fate. Soul mates.
A dead man being alive.
He was confirming he was alive, right? That was what he was doing.
That meant she was right!
"Mm," he said. Portrait Albus Dumbledore regarded her. "Have you completed your animagus training?"
"Yes, Sir."
"And?"
She blushed. "A puma."
He chuckled then.
"Appropriate."
"I guess so."
She sensed there was more to his statement, but he was actually answering her questions so decided to pick her battles. Finding out why he was interested in her animagus form really wasn't important.
"Has he given any indication that he remembers anything?"
"No, Sir. He's seen Harry even. I'd think if anything might jog his memory, Harry would."
"Mm."
"How did you do it? I mean, you died almost a year before the final battle."
"I made a deal, Miss Granger. I know what's said about me. How people feel about me. They think I used him. They think I led Harry to slaughter."
She was silent. What could she say? He wasn't wrong. She thought those very things herself, even today. Not every day. She'd moved past it. It was war. She knew people in charge had to make calls that others not in their position wouldn't understand.
"Tell me, Miss Granger," he said, taking her silence to mean what it did. That she had nothing to say. "If you had to choose between one life and an entire society…"
"I know why you did what you did, Sir. I don't agree with a lot of it, the way it was done. The not telling people things in particular, but I get it."
"I knew that you would. Not everyone views things logically. Not to say you weren't emotional about it six years ago. Regardless, as to your question. I made a deal that he would get the chance to lead a normal life. I did not know until tonight where or who he was, but I presumed he was out there somewhere, doing exactly as I stipulated."
"And you can just do that?"
"Well, I could, yes. Not everyone would be able to, no. The … intent had to be deemed appropriate and sincere. And valid, meaning he had to deserve it. I could not have made such an agreement about Lucius Malfoy, for example. I could have, perhaps, argued that someone like Draco was a product of his environment. His upbringing. Lucius, though, no. Obviously, as you've probably realized by now, the implantation of that identity is very thorough. That wouldn't be done for someone undeserving."
"So, I'm supposed to perform legilimency on a master occlumence, and assume he's going to let me stride through his mind until I find an out of place potions vial. And then, I open it?"
"Exactly."
"No pressure."
"Are you Hermione Granger, or aren't you? You, by the way, will recognize the vial."
What did that mean?
What did any of it mean?
"Again, Miss Granger, Fate. I'd say you not finding out you're soul mates until now was even part of Fate's plan. He would not have been ready for you six years ago. And before you ask, no, I do not believe that every point in time is fated, or fixed, to happen a certain way. We make our own choices. There are some things, however, that, barring catastrophes or other external influences, are meant to happen and Fate will continue to try to ensure they do. Your Noah Davies, presumably, applied for the job that allowed your paths to cross here and now. Why?"
Why indeed?
She firmly believed that what she did to her parents was the best thing. She planned on going to them after the war and undoing it. Her intent hadn't been for them to stay Monica and Wendell Wilkins forever. She wasn't doing it to be unkind or mean. She really wasn't. She didn't think it was even very selfish of her. She wanted them safe. They didn't know. They couldn't know. Not really. Even reading the articles in the Daily Prophet or The Quibbler weren't the complete reality. There were some students at Hogwarts whose educational experience wasn't totally affected by Voldemort's attempts to, or his ultimate, return. She'd tried to explain it, to give them facts, but they wouldn't listen. On this, they seemed to forget their daughter, while not quite eighteen, wasn't prone to fits of whimsy or dramatics.
Some could argue they'd died anyway. They had, and maybe that was … Fate's, as the headmaster had called it, way of evening things out. She'd never know, she supposed. She just knew that they hadn't died being tortured or held captive for months as bait.
It hurt … less … knowing it was a freak accident versus something she'd caused or could have prevented.
This, though, went beyond what she'd done to her parents. Presumably, based on what the headmaster was saying, if she hadn't stumbled upon Noah Davies, he'd just keep living his life none the wiser. That seemed … wrong. Would she think it was wrong for any witch or wizard? Hard to say. This wizard, though, that they were talking about. It was abhorrent to her that he wasn't contributing to their world. Assuming he wanted to.
Was he worse for it? Was he really? She supposed not, but she truly believed he would want to know about magic.
"You're wondering if you should try it. If not having his real memories is truly that bad."
She'd ask how he knew that, but she imagined even if this was just a portrait, it would still be a logical thing to assume she'd consider.
"I am."
"I would expect no less from you, which is why only you would recognize the vial."
He'd mentioned that. She thought he was being poetic, going along with the Fate business. Something she still wasn't sure she bought.
Evidently not.
"How will I recognize the vial?" she asked.
"Well, I don't know what it looks like. It's something that was created, not by me, and only someone with the proper intent would recognize it."
"And I'm the only one."
"Yes."
"Why?"
He scoffed.
"Seriously, why?"
"You merely want what's best for him. You don't want to harm him. You don't want to force him into one world or the other. You're not even wanting to force yourself on him, despite knowing you could. You just want him to have the facts to make his own decision. And so that he has the tools to defend himself if needed. You don't want anything from him. Again, the intent has to be sincere, Miss Granger."
"So, Lucius Malfoy…"
"Is not a capable enough legilimens to begin with, but, even if he was, would most certainly not be able to access the vial."
"They were friends, though."
"A complex friendship, based on many things that were not always factual or sincere."
"Draco?"
"Perhaps, if his skills are up to snuff, but I doubt he'd be able to access the vial either. Severus had fondness for his godson, but I'm not sure Draco's intentions would be pure and not selfish."
"You believe my skills are?"
"I have little doubt that is so, based on the tenacity I know is in you when it comes to knowledge."
Well, she'd rather walked right into that one. Unintentionally. She wasn't looking for this man to praise her.
"Tell me more about this Fate business. You say we're not just soul mates."
"No, you are not. I really have little information to offer you. I wasn't with him when he saw this fortune teller. Perhaps soul mates is an acceptable phrase, but I personally believe that someone can have more than one soul mate, and that one's happiness or contentment with life doesn't come with finding that soul mate."
"Really?" she asked. That surprised her.
"Well, certainly. You and Harry, for example. You complete one another, give one another something, in a way no one else can. Is that not what a soul mate should do? For you two, that is not romantic. For some it is."
"Ah," she said. Never really having friends before getting to Hogwarts, she really didn't know there was a difference. She did know that what she had with Harry was different from what she had with Neville, and even Ron, when they were still friends. She'd never thought before as to why it was different.
"Between you and me, Ginevra Weasley was not Harry's soul mate," he said, his portrait winking.
"I knew that."
She had.
She would never have said anything if things worked out, but she found it a little unsettling that a girl could have a crush as early as ten and marry the same person. She thought of the boys she'd liked when she was ten. Well, to say she'd grown up since then was an understatement. (Not to mention the changes those boys has gone through.)
"Good. As to the wizard you came here about. Your paths were meant to cross. Your lifelines are … intertwined, connected. It was your destiny. I don't know how he came to have a position at your university, but can only presume he was drawn to the advertisement for the open position because of you. Your presence would have pulled him there. Unwittingly or not."
"Huh," she said.
Interesting that he said that, because the position Noah Davies had was the first position in their department to open up in about ten years from her understanding. That was before her time.
"I'm still not sure how you think I'm going to be able to perform legilimens on him. Thinking he's muggle or not, who's going to let me look at them like that?"
"You've proven yourself to be a resourceful witch, Miss Granger. Time and time again. I'm sure you can figure out a way to do it without violating the Statute."
She rolled her eyes.
Again, no pressure.
"I also suspect, speaking as a man. Well, someone who was once a man, I would think eye contact, under the right circumstances, would be most welcome from a woman such as yourself."
That thought would make her head hurt under ordinary circumstances, but she knew what he meant. He wasn't trying to be creepy. She certainly wasn't going to perform legilimens on Noah during sex. She wasn't sure she'd want to do that with someone who knew what she was doing!
"Yeah, if he doesn't hate me when he gets his memories back and pull away before I can finish."
"He won't. He was drawn to you, Hermione. If he retains his memories, he will know who you are. He will understand, too, why he befriended you. I wager if you asked this professor, he would tell you that he hasn't dated much. Severus didn't either, and it wasn't because of Lily. Yes, that was the story we used to explain his being single, but it was conducive to my plans and his cover. It also served his purpose. Death eaters he associated with in between wars didn't think anything of him not partaking in various offerings, because he never had. He was not a man meant for dalliances. Like you, I wager, he was born a little too old and wise for his own good. That's not an insult, merely an observation, knowing what I do about the both of you. He has a heart that can get broken. He cares, deeply. And is loyal. Those are all traits that can be very easily taken advantage of."
Left unsaid was that this man had taken advantage of those traits himself. Hermione didn't need to hear him say so.
"And nothing says that you have to do it tomorrow. Perhaps some time for him to truly know he can trust you is called for, whether it's as this Professor Davies or your potions professor."
Well, no, she wasn't going to go back and attempt anything tonight. She'd come up with a plan first.
"You do know I'll come back to talk to you about what you did."
"Oh, my dear, I have been counting on this conversation, and the next one, for over seven years. I never doubted you'd figure it out and do precisely as you did, come to me for answers."
One thing was bothering her. This man, as far as she knew, was not normally forthcoming. That led to her wondering why he was doing so on this. She didn't fool herself into thinking he had any fondness for her over the others he'd deliberately kept in the dark over the years.
"Why are you giving me answers?"
He chuckled, running his hands along the length of his beard.
"Well, the war is over. Voldemort was defeated. I have no more pawns in play. And, in truth, Severus' knowledge would be helpful to the wizarding world. I had no way of finding him. Nor would I have suggested anyone attempt to do so. That's not why I'm suggesting you do this. He may choose not to return to us. I don't know, I'm afraid. It wasn't a topic he shared his thoughts on. What he'd do if he survived. I'm fairly certain he didn't believe he would, but am still confident he had plans on the chance that he did. He was too clever not to. However, he knows things based on his research, and the things he saw firsthand, few still alive can speak about."
She tilted her head, regarding the portrait. It … sounded truthful. She'd never know, really, she supposed. Six years ago, she'd wonder about the authenticity of his words today. Perhaps she was foolish not to today, but she didn't think he'd set her up to hurt anyone.
Or violate the Statute.
"Contrary to what Severus believes, I truly wanted him happy. The problem was that Severus was not, in general, a happy person. A product of his home life. He knew you existed, clearly, and thought that it was indicative of his soul being … foul. I, of course, knew that wasn't the case. I never, for one moment, believed he would do anything untoward."
"No," she said.
"You would, of course, believe that wholeheartedly. Severus and I had a bit of tarnish on our world vantage points. Especially by the time you arrived at Hogwarts."
She chuckled. "I suppose that you did."
"I don't know what will happen when his memories are unlocked, Miss Granger."
"Hermione," she said.
"Thank you."
He'd said it earlier, and she didn't think anything this man said or did was a mistake, or a slip, but just in case.
"He may not react well. I hope that the six years he's had will go toward him accepting that he does have, and deserves, a long and bright future."
"So, you're saying he didn't love Lily?"
"Did I say that?" he chuckled here. At her question? Her … doubt? At himself? She'd never know. "I suppose that I did. He did, of course, love her. Not entirely different than you love Harry. In fact, I'd say very similar to the two of you. The major difference, the two of you did not have a falling out. And, well, you know the rest. It was, oh, shortly before they died actually, that he admitted to me that he'd realized he'd confused friendship for romantic affection. He was embarrassed, of course, and would probably be unhappy with me that I relayed such a thing to you. It was something he, like many, longed for and assumed Lily living near him was a sign. I've hypothesized for many years if they had met here at Hogwarts, it wouldn't have played out as it did." He paused her. Looking rather solemn. It was a surprising look on this man. "Any of it. Then we wouldn't have had him to spy. And where would we be?"
One of those Fate things she imagined he was inferring here. Lily and Severus were fated to meet prior to Hogwarts.
"No one else could know that, though," she said, filling in the blanks.
"Correct. I don't know what memories Harry saw, but have no doubt from Severus' perspective, at the time those memories were being made, he thought that he was in love with the witch. I'm sure that was conveyed."
"I believe it was." Harry hadn't told her much about that. Whether it was embarrassment or what, she'd never know.
"Does that make you feel better?"
"I suppose. It doesn't mean he won't be angry with me."
"You didn't do anything, Hermione, other than be born I suppose. He can hardly be angry about that, soul mates or not, and he will know that. You are correct, though. He may lash out, and be angry. I would say there is a better than just good possibility he will. That anger will be focused on you because you will be the one to return his memories to him. Do not take it personally. I suspect he, as you have done, will come here and speak to me. Severus is a man who feels his existence has never truly been his own to do with as he pleased. So, to discover that he found his way to you anyway…"
She nodded, nibbling on her lower lip. It was a nervous habit that she had worked hard to break herself of doing. This, though.
"I understand."
"I doubt you're going to go home and do this tonight, so take some time to think about what we've discussed. If you have more questions before you attempt it, let me know."
"Thank you, Sir."
"You are welcome. I won't say good luck because you don't need it, but I wish you the best."
"Thank you, Sir."
"One last thing. Will you return me to the office?"
"Yes, Sir."
She stood then, carefully picking up his portrait and returning it to its spot behind Minerva's desk.
"Thank you, Sir. Good night then."
"Not so fast, Hermione. One last thing, remember?"
"Oh, I thought my returning you here was it."
"Not quite." He nodded his head. "See the shelves in the corner there, near the landscape painting."
"Yes, Sir."
"Second shelf from the top. You may need something to stand on."
She glanced at the second shelf from the top. They were glass so she could see through them. It looked empty. She looked from it to the painting and back again, giving a soft huff. She brought a chair to it and stood, waving her hand over the shelf once she was eye to eye with the second one from the top.
"Revelio," she whispered.
She gasped.
"Sir?"
"You might need it. And he will likely want it."
She felt a thrum of … power and magic wash through her when she gripped the handle of Severus Snape's wand. Being fated for one another, would she be able to use it. She'd never do so without his permission, but it was interesting to think about.
"Only Kingsley knows that it's here."
"He found it?" She'd seen him several times. He'd never given anything away that he'd found this wand.
"He did. It was not in the Shack, which led Kingsley to believe he hadn't died there after all."
"Ah," she said with a nod.
"We assumed if he did come back, that he'd return here."
"And his wand would be here waiting for him," she said.
She wondered how he got separated from it. Whatever deal Albus Dumbledore had made at work, she guessed. A muggle man couldn't have a wand.
"Precisely."
Carefully, she climbed off the chair, returning it to its place before sliding Severus' wand into her jacket pocket. She couldn't let anyone else see it. She'd have to find somewhere in her flat to put it for now.
"Thank you. I'm not sure I'll like knowing he has access to it or not."
The headmaster chuckled softly at that. No doubt he understood what she meant. If he was angry and had access to his wand, that could be bad for her. (Not that he needed his wand.)
"And tell Harry hello," he said when she was about to leave.
She laughed softly at the casual salutation. As if they hadn't just had a rather monumental conversation. For both of them. "I will, Sir, good night. And again, thank you."
Of course he knew she was going to tell Harry all of this before deciding anything!
*****
She ran into him on Thursday night. She was having dinner with the other two grad students. They weren't super close, but it was nice to have a meal with them and talk like normal people for a couple of hours. The three of them were busy, and sometimes the idea to grab dinner because they hadn't seen the outside of their tomb-like office or a book for hours occurred to them.
For Noah's part. He was with his parents. That was awkward. For her. Probably for him, too, for very different reasons. She knew these people weren't Tobias and Eileen Snape. Harry told her they weren't. Their memories had been altered along with Severus'. Morgana, she wondered if upon Noah's mother's passing an autopsy could reveal she'd never given birth.
His dad was tall and thin like he was. They had similar noses. Not the same nose, but similar, Hermione noticed. Dark hair and eyes, just like Noah. Distinguished looking. Enough of a similarity that she could understand why he was chosen as Severus' father.
His mum was … well, lovely, but in a very stiff and proper way. There was nothing wrong with being stiff and proper, but she didn't get the impression Eileen Snape had been that. Brown hair and eyes, too. She was on the shorter side.
Both were well-dressed and presented a nice picture. A nice family unit. A happy husband and wife unit.
Actually, the three of them did, because Noah was wearing a suit and tie, which was not something she'd ever seen him wear. (She never realized until now that a man in a suit was something she might be attracted to.)
It was clear by comparing the two parents, that Noah Davies would have been thought to take after his father.
They looked nothing like the photographs she'd been able to find of Tobias Snape and Elaine Snape nee Prince. Was it far fetched that this couple produced Noah? Not completely. She could see it, actually. She wondered, not for the first time since her conversation with Albus Dumbledore (and likely not the last), what exactly had been done.
This seemed more than a mere memory charm. As other people's memories had to be altered, too. Noah had to be fit and implanted into many lives. People had to remember Mr. and Mrs. Davies had a child forty-five years ago. Classmates had to remember Noah Davies. Students had to remember having him as a teacher prior to 1998.
She hated to admit it, because it was sort of scary that this could be done, but she was hugely curious about it.
Toby and Brandon went to their table without her as she made her way to the table he was at. He'd waved her over. She wasn't about to just go meet his parents without him doing that first. He stood, offering her his hand, which she took and let him kiss her cheek.
"I didn't know you'd be here," he said.
"I didn't either. It was Brandon's choice," she said, gesturing to her dinner companions. He nodded in their direction. He'd gotten more familiar with them as the term progressed.
"Ah. Well, I suppose I should introduce you to my parents. Mum and Dad, this is Hermione Granger. She is a graduate student at the university I'm teaching at and someone I have been spending time with away from campus. Hermione, Thurman and Ellen Davies."
"It's nice to meet you, Mr. and Mrs. Davies. Noah has spoken very highly of you," she said.
His dad offered her an intrigued and polite smile with a handshake. His mother, on the other hand, did not look too impressed. And the handshake she gave Hermione was very … unenthusiastic.
"I don't want to take up more of your time," she said, attention back on Noah. "I know you said you hadn't seen them in a while. I'll let you get back to your meal."
"Enjoy your dinner then," he said, kissing her briefly.
"You, too."
"And I will see you Friday?" he asked. "Tomorrow?"
"Yes," she said, blushing a bit she knew.
He drew away after another quick kiss. She'd never really been a public display of affection kind of person. Having to watch others snog was just … not fun. She didn't mind his kisses, though. They weren't gross. They weren't out of line, and she kind of liked that he wanted to kiss her in front of his parents. That was a good sign, wasn't it?
"Enjoy the rest of your meal and evening," she said, offering his parents a wave before she headed in the direction of the table she would be eating at with Toby and Brandon.
"Mum and Dad?" Toby asked. He sounded as if he knew the answer.
"Yes," she said.
"I take it you didn't know they'd be here?"
"No!"
"Not to the meet the parents' stage then?"
"I hadn't expected to tonight, no." Her hand shook a little as she grabbed the water glass that had been set at her spot. Morgana, that was unexpected. And he'd not only told them they were seeing one another, but kissed her! Twice! "His mum didn't seem to like me."
"I noticed that, too. She seems a bit uptight, just from observing. Maybe she thinks you're a gold digging harpy."
"You two were watching!" She wasn't really surprised.
"Brandon wasn't. He said he doesn't care who you're dating. I watched."
She gave a soft laugh. She couldn't help it. Brandon, being new, wouldn't care really. They weren't as close as she and Toby were.
"I'm not a gold digging harpy!"
"Anyone who knows you would know that in about sixty seconds. She, however, is his mother, and it's reasonable to think she'd be protective of her son. And suspicious of what someone nearly twenty years younger than him is doing with him."
"He's smart and…"
"I'm not saying I'm suspicious. At all. I've heard the discussions you've had in his office. And ours. You are obviously compatible."
"Thanks, Toby," she said.
Morgana. What would she do if he had a relationship with these people and they didn't like her? Wouldn't that be … ironic?
She shuddered to think of it. She'd never had to meet someone's parents before. Not like this. As a … potential romantic partner. She'd already known Arthur and Molly Weasley before any romantic feelings developed for Ronald. Viktor was probably the closest she'd come, but they never got serious enough to meet his family.
She didn't have to worry about that. She only had to worry about Harry really. And Neville she supposed, but she was pretty sure Neville would abstain from giving an opinion, given he was Severus Snape. Neville had gotten over his fear of the man by now. That wasn't it. She knew that it would sort of freak him out if he found out Severus Snape was still alive. Not having parents for him to meet made her feel sad. She'd like him to meet them.
What if his parents … realized or suspected she was hiding something? She did not have a good poker face. And, when it got down to it, she was hiding things. A lot of things at the moment.
She vowed to enjoy her dinner with her fellow graduate students and not worry about Noah Davies or Severus, his parents' opinion of her, or anything magical for the rest of the evening.
Story ©Susan Falk/APCKRFAN/PhantomRoses.com