July 2005
“Are you going to just sit there?” he asked.
“I just might,” she said, her chin resting in the palm of her hand as she watched him.
“Why?”
“Mm,” she said with a shrug. “I like watching you.”
“You are here to assist me.”
“My watching you isn’t assisting you?”
He snorted softly. “Not particularly.”
He rather liked her watching him. More than was probably healthy to admit. Months now, almost a year really, and whether Severus or Noah, he loved when she was focused on him. On his hands as she was primarily at the moment.
“Pity,” she murmured almost breathlessly.
He met her eyes then. He wasn’t sure when he’d get used to the fact that they were involved. That she looked at him with affection and caring. There were days he didn’t think he deserved it. Love. A soul mate. Her. Those days were fewer and farther between today than they were months ago.
As much as he’d love to curse Albus to the depths of hell for presuming to do what he’d done with Severus and his memories. He could admit that he wasn’t ready for anything seven years ago, let alone this witch discovering they were soul mates.
And she would have figured it out. Eventually. Somehow. She was clever.
“You don’t have to be here.” Perhaps she’d like to visit Minerva or other professors. Mr. Longbottom and Miss Lovegood was here, too.
“Do you want me to leave?” She didn’t sound as if she was hurt or offended, so she knew full well he didn’t want her to leave.
“That is not what I said.”
“I get to watch you work, and ask you questions. Never mind that, as much as I enjoy the opportunity to do that. I get to sidealong into Hogwarts with you. Something I know very few people remaining alive can say they’ve done.”
He chuckled softly with a shake of his head. Yes, she would like that. “Of course.”
She shrugged. “Besides, someone has to make sure that you eat. And rest.”
“You are aware that I taught classes, made potions, and served essentially as a double spy…”
“Yes, and you were exhausted which led to you being in a downright foul mood most of the time. Worse, you had no one to tell you that was true and that you needed to take a break.”
“Mm,” he said. “Valid point.”
He stopped what he was doing and walked to her, kissing the top of her head. “Thank you.”
Her head shot up quickly, surprise in her eyes.
“You’re thanking me?”
“You are suggesting that you are going to care for, look after, me. Yes, that is thanks worthy.”
“Mm,” she said.
He’d never had anyone care for him before. It was … nice. And something he could definitely get used to.
She and Harry had finished all of their interviews by now. Susan Bones had collected multiple blood specimens from everyone. He had twelve interviews and specimens from a group that did not seem to be reacting differently to the potion. He had nearly twenty who were. It seemed as if both Kingsley and Harry were surprised it was that many.
Minerva for her part had been in and out of his lab whenever he came here. She was still obviously unhappy that he wasn’t planning on returning. Additionally, she seemed a bit put out that Albus suspected he was alive and well for the past seven years, and chose to keep that opinion to himself until his mate went to talk to him.
And his former employer and sort of friend hadn’t told Minerva even then.
When he was having a bad day, he could always get a bit of a laugh out of the day that he presented himself to Kingsley and Minerva in Hermione’s flat.
They hadn’t stayed too much longer after their conversation about the Wolfsbane potion. Minerva was unhappy. With him, as well as with Hermione, for not telling her. She’d caught herself when she protested her not knowing from claiming they were friends.
Yes, they were friendly, and he had forgiven her for her role in things while he had been a student. He knew, now, that he wasn’t blameless. However, she still to this day, even as headmistress, was incredibly partial to Gryffindor.
Albus had been, too, and Severus always felt that was wrong. As the head of the school, they should not show bias. He, of course, hadn’t had the luxury of a choice in the matter, and had to favor his Slytherins. Not a hardship, but he knew that they weren’t perfect either.
Miss Bones had done an outstanding job of drawing the blood samples, ensuring each vial was correctly labeled. They’d taken five from each person. Those who were having an adverse reaction to the potion would get an additional five taken after a dose of the Wolfsbane potion. He didn’t know how much he’d need, what experiments he’d need to do. He was pretty sure most of them would give more later if needed.
They’d come to the conclusion that waiting until the castle was empty to begin this was perhaps wisest. So it worked well.
Except, he supposed for those the wolfsbane potion was causing problems for.
He shook his head as he glanced at her watching him.
“This is really what you want to be doing?”
“Mm hmm,” she said.
He tsk’d but returned to his work. First, he needed to inspect each vial of blood to ensure it hadn’t been contaminated somehow. He doubted that would be the case, certainly not deliberately, but he had to be sure. Miss Bones did this for a living, and she knew why they were doing this. Lives could be at risk. She wouldn’t do that, but odder things had happened.
His observations of each sample were recorded under each subject’s set of documents. That was his focus today.
He was on the third vial belonging to Bowers, Howard when an idea occurred to him.
“Would you like to take notes for me?”
Her eyes sparkled with the question and he knew he’d done well. When precisely he started caring that was the case, he wasn’t sure.
“You’re sure?”
“I am confident in your note taking skills and that you can understand what I’m saying.”
She snorted softly.
“Sure then,” she said, sliding off of the chair she’d been sitting in and walking closer to him. She brushed her hip against his. “Have you ever let someone take notes for you before?”
“No,” he said, realizing only after he’d said it that the word sounded much snottier than he’d meant it. He just never would have trusted anyone to know how he thought. Even prior to his memories being returned to him, he had the ability with chemistry to think outside the box. He considered it to be a rather proprietary thing. The one thing he truly had that was an advantage compared to others. So, he preferred to keep that to himself. Besides, he didn’t think it was truly something anyone could be taught.
This witch, though, would want to learn. She would think over his words and want to piece together how and why he came to the conclusions he did. He liked the idea of challenging her mind.
And of her challenging his.
Because he had no doubt that she would, if she believed he said anything inappropriate or inaccurate about one of the samples of blood. Or anything else in this excursion.
He glanced at the wall as she settled herself to begin her notetaking. It was so incredibly odd to be back here. He wouldn’t claim that it was as if he never left, but this room - his personal lab - had been exactly as he’d left it back in 1998. Honestly, it had likely been 1997 when he’d had the time to be in here last.
He was fairly certain Argus knew he was here, but the caretaker liked Severus, so he wouldn’t say anything. Severus had learned as a student, the caretaker just knew things. Or, it might have been people just talked around him because he was a squib and treated him as if he didn’t matter. Who knew?
Hogwarts.
It had been his home for over twenty-five years. Like his childhood home, he had good memories and bad ones of his time spent here taking up space in his head. Sadly, his last memories of being here were of the horrifically bad variety.
She rested her head against his shoulder, bringing him out of his thoughts. No doubt it was her intention.
“We don’t have to do this today,” she said.
“We do,” he said, clearing his throat softly at the … sincerity in her statement. She wasn’t judging him. She wouldn’t think less of him if he was to decide that today just wasn’t the day he wanted to start.
“Fair enough. Anytime you want a break, let me know.”
He nodded then, giving the vials of blood his full attention now.
“All right. Back to Bowers, Howard then. Vial four.”
*****
She was as meticulous and focused as he was. He’d never had a partner. Not really. Even his memories of achieving his major in Chemistry, there were few lab partners involved. Honestly, he couldn’t have chosen a better one. She rarely asked him to repeat himself, and when she did, there was generally a reason. It wasn’t that she needed him to say it again, she was questioning if what he’d said was correct. A couple of times, she was correct, he’d misspoken. It made for a productive, yet long, day that extended into the evening. And soon it was midnight. He only realized the time as he glanced at his wristwatch. He wasn’t really looking at the time. He just knew that they’d been here for hours.
“I should get you home,” he said.
“Why?” she asked.
“Because we’ve been at this for nearly fourteen hours without much of a break. You have to be exhausted and starving.”
“They have food here.”
His eyes widened a bit at her … suggestion. She wanted to stay?
“You don’t want to go home?”
She shrugged. “Does it matter where we sleep? If we eat something and sleep here, we’ll be ready earlier in the morning to start again.”
“Hermione…”
She stood then, taking his hand and tugging on it. “Take me to get something to eat and sleep, Noah.”
He nodded then. They spent a few minutes ensuring everything was properly stored for a bit of a break.
He waved his hand to a spot just on the other side of the lab tables they’d been working at. This was his private lab, so he hadn’t worried about anyone realizing the space here was indicative that there was likely a door somewhere here.
“I’ll head to the bedroom and bathroom to clean them while you get us something to eat.” He leaned in then, kissing her. “You can call for Winky. He will get us whatever you ask for.”
“Okay.” The last thing he needed was an elf, even one as loyal as Winky had been, to know he was back. She seemed to recognize that was what he was doing.
He left the bedroom door ajar so he could hear when the food arrived. Now that he took the time to step away from his lab, he realized he was starving. She had to be, too. Yet, she hadn’t wagered one complaint or said one thing about taking a break, or needing sustenance.
He ensured the bedroom, which hadn’t been used since June 1997, was clean. He hoped she had sleeping together in mind, because he didn’t particularly feel like spending the next few hours on his sofa. It wasn’t that comfortable. The bathroom taken care of as well, he turned to the next task of starting a fire in the bedroom on his way out. It was always cool down here to the point of being chilly so, even though it was summer. Throw both being on the brink of exhaustion in there, well, a fire would be welcome.
He returned to his living room. The food had arrived, but she was browsing his bookshelves. Not surprising.
It wasn’t a huge spread. She seemed to think as he did, that less would be more. Just something to tide them over until morning. He would ensure they both ate a good breakfast before starting again in the morning.
A couple of sandwiches, bowls of soup, crisps, some fruit to balance things out, and some pudding for dessert.
He sat after she did, realizing only then that his sandwich and soup were both something he preferred.
“Thank you,” he murmured, flattered that, despite not giving her a break for hours, she’d thought of his preferences.
She shrugged, taking a bite out of her peanut butter and blackberry jam (a flavor she was partial to he knew by now) sandwich. “I had to order food, may as well order what we both like.”
“True enough.”
They ate quickly and pretty quietly, making their way wordlessly to his bedroom.
“You can have the bathroom first,” he said.
“Thanks.”
“Will you do me a favor?”
“I can try,” she said, looking confused at what he might be asking her. He supposed it was a little odd, given the circumstances.
He walked to his dresser, opening a drawer at the bottom. One he couldn’t recall the last time he opened. Once Voldemort returned. Things like muggle band T-shirts just weren’t something he had time for.
He drew out a T-shirt, nodding at the selection.
“Would you wear this for me?” he asked, unfolding the shirt to reveal the T-shirt he bought at the David Bowie Let’s Dance concert he’d seen over twenty years ago now. It wasn’t his favorite Bowie album, so the T-shirt hadn’t been worn as often as the other band T-shirts he had.
She smirked a bit, walking toward him and taking hold of the shirt. She stood on her tiptoes, kissing him. She turned then, going to the bathroom.
“And here I was planning on sleeping in just my knickers,” she quipped before shutting the door.
Merlin.
Was she serious ?
He found some sleep pants, undressing and sliding them on before turning back the covers.
“Did Noah Davies go to the concert?” she asked from the bathroom door. She looked as … nice as he knew she would in the shirt. The view of her bare legs was enticing.
“No,” he said, interesting that she asked that, and that he could very definitely answer the question. “He does like David Bowie, though.”
“Can I wear this the next time I see your parents?” she asked. He scoffed a bit, until seeing that she was serious as she padded across the room to his bed.
“My mother would be liable to think you are cheating on me.”
“Oh,” she said with a frown, evidently not having thought of that.
“They’d know I didn’t see the concert and she’d wonder whose shirt you are wearing.”
“I see,” she said. She set her hand on the sheet where he’d turned the bed down. “Is this the side you prefer?” she asked.
“Not particularly, I just neglected to turn down both sides.”
“I can do it while you’re in the bathroom.”
“Thanks,” he said, going there to get ready for the night.
*****
He was awake before her. He wasn’t sure he truly slept. Sleeping with her here was very odd. To say the least. He’d slept with her before, and enjoyed a lie-in with her. He was a naturally earlier riser than she was. Reading in bed while she continued sleeping was one of his favorite pastimes, in fact, because she always seemed to find her way to him. Sought him out. Needed to touch him.
He went to his lab for about an hour or so before realizing she’d likely be waking up soon so he returned to his quarters. Funny, he still thought of them that way.
As his.
He hadn’t been in them for more than six years.
He understood why she looked at his books last night. He had quite the collection amassed. He would take them home with him over the course of the summer. They were certainly doing him, or anyone else for that matter, no good being locked up here where no one could get to them.
He knew she was awake and had come out of his room before he felt her hands against his shoulders and her head at his back. She kissed him before resting her cheek against him. She seemed to like his back. He didn’t understand it. He’d never seen it firsthand, obviously being his own back, but he’d seen it in a mirror enough to know that the scars were rather … hideous.
“How long have you been up?” she asked.
“Mm,” he said, glancing at his watch. “Since about five.”
“Severus.”
“I couldn’t sleep any longer.” He shrugged, careful not to dislodge her head from its spot. He liked it there.
“You haven’t been standing here since five o’clock, have you?”
“No, I went to my lab for a bit. I think better there,” he whispered. “I realized it was about time you’d wake and returned.”
“You haven’t eaten?”
“No,” he said.
“Okay, well, give me a few minutes to clean up and I can take care of that.”
“It’s fine,” he said,
He turned then, slowly so as not to dislodge her completely from being this close to him. He slid his arms around her, resting his hands at her bum and hips.
“I don’t think I can do it.”
She frowned, looking confused.
“Come back.”
“Oh,” she said, shaking her head slightly. “I don’t think anyone… I mean, obviously Minerva and Kingsley would like you to, but I’m not expecting anything.”
“I was thinking I could. I presumed being back here. The place I called home for sixteen years,” he said, gesturing to the rooms they were standing in. “I assumed I’d realize this was where I belong.”
“You don’t?”
“I don’t. It’s just a place I spent sixteen years of my life lying. To everyone. Running from my past. My mistakes. You.”
“Then don’t come back. No one’s making you.”
“That wouldn’t bother you?”
She shrugged. “I’m sure in some ways it would, yes, but only because I think that you belong here. If you don’t want to be here, though, no. I mean, all of the magical world is going to wonder who Noah Davies is when you figure this out and adjust the potion formula so it doesn’t continue.”
“I hope your confidence in me is not misplaced.”
“It’s not. If there’s anyone who can do this, it’s you.”
“And if we were to marry and have a child or two…”
“You mean involvement with their schooling when they get to Hogwarts?”
“Precisely.”
“Are you going to leave me holding the bag the rest of the time?”
“Of course not.”
“Then, what? What do you want me to say? That you not wanting to be a part of the magical world is a deal breaker?”
“Some might?”
“Mm,” she said, hugging him tightly. She went to her tiptoes, bussing his jaw and ear with a kiss. “Don’t you know yet that I’m not some?”
He snorted, capturing her lips with his. “I can attest to that,” he murmured as he drew away.
“I’m not going to make you do anything, Noah. Including be with me. Or get married. Or have children. None of it.”
“I’m warming up to the idea of those things.”
She smiled a bit shyly at that. “Me, too,” she whispered.
He knew, despite their age difference, she thought there was maybe something wrong with her that here she was seven years post-Hogwarts and no husband or offspring to show off to others. She was one of only a few out of her classmates who had neither. (There were a couple who had the offspring without a spouse.)
“So, let’s get some breakfast and then you can work out this problem. From there,” she shrugged. “You won’t get pressure from me. Harry will respect your wishes as well. I make no guarantees about Minerva or Kingsley.”
“Which just means you should move in with me so that they can’t find either of us.”
This was said a bit cautiously, not overly certain as to her answer. They hadn’t discussed cohabitating, but she hadn’t brushed off his suggestion a moment ago that they might marry and create a child or two. She hadn’t ever returned the set of keys he’d given her. He took that as a good sign.
“Really?” she asked.
“I think Fluxweed and Crookshanks have proven they can get along.”
“They have,” she said.
“You are done with your schooling, so the need for a flat near campus is no longer necessary.”
“True,” she said.
“My home is certainly big enough to accommodate you and your familiar. And two pumas.”
“It is,” she agreed.
“I could even see to it that a room is made up for Harry.”
She smiled then and he shook his head, because he knew he was a sap. But he wanted this witch with him. And he knew complete separation from Harry would be a sticking point. While he didn’t have a friendship like theirs, he understood it.
“Then, yes.”
He rolled his eyes. “Should I be concerned that it was the last part that got you to agree?”
“No. It did make me know you were serious, though.”
“I would never suggest such a thing in jest.”
She kissed him then, drawing away.
“That was a yes, right?” he asked.
“It was. Why?”
“I don’t know. I expected … an ultimatum or something.”
“Are you going to see other people?”
“Don’t be ridiculous.”
“Are you going to treat me like I’m just a live-in girlfriend until you grow tired of me?”
“Also ridiculous.”
“Then we’re fine. I don’t need a promise beyond what you wanting me with you already is.”
He nodded, realizing what she meant.
“All right. Breakfast then,” he said. “The sooner we get this solved, the sooner my house gets you.”
“I do get to keep the shirt, right?” she asked.
He chuckled. “There are more in the bottom drawer. You can have them all.”
“A different shirt for every night of the week then?”
“I think presuming you’ll be wearing them very long once you’re in our bed is a bit much.”
She blushed then, tucking some of that glorious hair of hers behind her ear. “I did offer to sleep in just my knickers last night.”
He nodded. “This,” he said, gesturing to his quarters. “Is not the right place for that. This is my past. As nice as creating such a memory here would be.”
“I understand, and was teasing. Not the offer last night, but mentioning it today. We’re fine. I’m not upset. I can tell by the way you sleep with me that it’s not a matter of not wanting to.”
“I didn’t realize that was actually up for debate. If I have done anything to make you think my interest is platonic… I have merely tried to respect your wishes. I’m not going to force myself on you, sleeping together or not.”
“No, you haven’t. And I know. We’re in no rush. You’re still deciding and acclimating. I’m not going anywhere.”
“That is good to know, because I like knowing I have you to talk with.”
“Oh, that was hard to admit, wasn’t it?”
“Incredibly so.”
She smirked, ducking her head a bit trying to hide that she was doing so. Not very well.
“Better go into the other room or I’ll never get breakfast for us.”
He snorted, but headed to the bedroom so he could dress for the day while she saw to breakfast.
Likely, they weren’t fooling Winky by Severus not being the one calling for him and ordering the food. He didn’t care if Winky suspected. He just didn’t want it to spread rampantly, and he certainly did not want it to get around that “Professor Snape” was back.
Yes, he was him, but he wasn’t. It was a difficult thing to wrap his mind around. He had his real memories as a child in the Snape household, but he had the implanted memories of his experiences in the Davies home. Knowing they were not real or not didn’t stop him from knowing that those memories and the past six years living as Noah Davies had … changed him.
There were times he wondered why it had taken him years to “find” her if the fortune teller and Fate were to be believed and they were fated to be. Being here again made him realize why, though. And he had no doubt that he was the one that needed to find her, not the other way around.
Six years ago he wouldn’t have been ready. He couldn’t have stood in this room and had a rational conversation with the witch. He needed the time, space, and, yes, the fake memories. He needed to know love was obtainable for him. He knew for certain that the Davies’ loved him. He’d never had that before.
He also knew this witch loved him. As much as he loved her? Doubtful, but he looked forward to a lifetime of finding out if she did.
All of those things together made him a man who not only wanted the things she could offer but thought that he deserved them. Severus Snape would not have willingly come to that conclusion on his own.
*****
Noah shook his head, lifting his eyes from the copy of The Quibbler Harry had sent them to focus, instead, on the nubile body that belonged to his bride. She was currently sitting with her legs draped over the arm of her chair, eating some fruit, and wearing nothing but a pair of silky knickers and a David Bowie shirt. The nymph had gone on an auction site shortly after their first night at Hogwarts and purchased other shirts from the Let’s Dance tour, so that the one he had given her could be saved. She didn’t want it ruined.
“It’s clear that whoever Noah Davies is, he deserves not only our gratitude for tackling the problem with the Wolfsbane potion head on and solving it. But also the privacy he clearly desires. How can we thank him then, the reader might ask? By bringing to the attention of your healer any adverse effect you might experience, to any potion. Healers, you must listen to your patients. All of them. Humanoid or otherwise. And report these issues. A potentially bloody and deadly catastrophe was avoided. This time. Next time we might not be so lucky. We can hardly afford to lose more than we have already lost.”
“She knows,” Hermione said.
“Of course she knows. It’s Luna Lovegood. How she has time to continue putting out this paper and teach Divination, I haven’t the foggiest.”
“As you say, she’s Luna.”
He set the paper down, glad that Harry had sent it to them. Even if he’d directed the front desk to deliver it to them “urgently”. Five minutes later and his new bride would not have had knickers or a David Bowie adorning her right breast who looked more as if he had boxing than dancing in mind on her any longer.
He grazed her calf with the tip of his finger and she leaned up, feeding him a strawberry after dipping it in the flute of champagne she had next to her.
“Anything else good in there?”
“No. Our nuptials seem to have escaped notice.”
Severus had paperwork drawn up, allowing him to legally go by Noah Davies. He hadn’t wanted to do it, but he wasn’t a fool. Eventually, someone would figure out he wasn’t, in truth, Noah Davies. Magical or muggle, didn’t matter, once one figured it out, others would. He was truly fortunate he hadn’t come upon someone else magical prior to taking his current job. That could mean his savings, home, and other things might get forfeit. So, he was covered.
That also meant that his wife had taken that last name. He’d balked, but she insisted. He’d been surprised she wanted to change her name at all. His mother, Ellen, played a part in her decision. He hated that, but Hermione felt his mother would be … insulted if she didn’t want their name. Was she ever going to call his mother “Mum”? No, but they got along well enough. Hermione inviting Ellen to go wedding dress shopping with her had gone a long way toward that end.
The wedding itself had been a small affair, which he felt bad about. Other than Harry and a few university chums, she had few she could invite - and allow him to stay anonymous anyway. His parents had a slew to invite, but he’d argued given his age they needed to respect their wishes for a small ceremony and dinner for just immediate family and friends.
To compensate? They were spending the entirety of his winter break from university on a Costa Rican beachfront cottage where he had no desire to see his wife don more than what she was wearing currently for days.
“Good.”
“Can we get back to what we were doing now?”
She gave a soft laugh.
“Are you sure you don’t want to go out, Dear?”
He gave a low growl, grabbing her and with a squeal by her, settled her on his lap.
“I have no desire to go out until we have to again to return home.”
“I like the sound of that,” she murmured, crossing her arms and lifting the David Bowie shirt up and off. The knickers. Well, he could vanish them, but with her in his lap like this that wasn’t entirely necessary.
“Me, too, now I want to hear that squeal again,” he murmured.
His kiss stopped her from being able to until later.
~The End~
Story ©Susan Falk/APCKRFAN/PhantomRoses.com