A Winter Tale

A Winter Tale

By: Max


Inspired by the WIKTT Marriage Law Challenge, but not following it exactly

[Disclaimer see chapter 1]


Chapter 24: Just for the fun of it?

The three years since the war’s end had been nice to Severus Snape. He’d gained a little weight, he’d got a little tan during a long and lazy summer holiday and he felt at ease with the world and himself as he strolled on a nice, still sunny October Saturday morning through the wizard district of Oxford. It was just seven in the morning, even the usual very crowded yard of the Merlin Wizard’s College – short MWC – had been peacefully quiet and deserted from the students normally always loitering there. Even quieter was the park Severus crossed on his way to the little street he was now walking along. Most of its houses stood in nice gardens, over the days mostly filled with the cheerful noise of children playing there.

Severus knew most of the inhabitants of this street. Just over there, the big yellow house with the sunflowers in the garden, belong to Terry Hooper, MWC’s second potion professor, who was a specialist for medical potion and therefore mostly teaching the med wizard classes. His wife Susanna, one of the herbologists in the college, a very nice and hospitable woman who hardly let a week go over without inviting Severus to dinner. At first he’d always refused her with saying he wouldn’t have time, but Susanna Hooper was not only nice, but most persistent and so Severus was finally going to see her and her husband. By that he learned that he enjoyed their company and so the Hoopers were by now almost something Severus could call “friends” – but he was still very careful with that word.

He even didn’t use it in connection with the Wulfs, the family who lived opposite the Hoopers, though Desmond Wulf, Decan of the MWC, was a man Severus liked and felt liked by.

The only inhabitant of the street and member of the college and probably even the only member of the wizard’s world who Severus called without hesitation a “friend” was the only student living in the little street: Hermione Granger-Dumbledore. Just two years before – after she’d for months apparated daily between the university and Dumbledore Hall – she’d bought the house just at the end of the street, a nice, two floor home which she shared now with her son, her girlfriend Ginny Weaslnd tnd the house elf Woopy.

But most weekends Hermione and her son still spend at the Hall and it went almost without saying that Severus mostly accompanied the both. The arrangement were mostly made short in the college’s hall or where ever the both gate crashed each other and it didn’t need more than a “Saturday at 7:30?” from Hermione and a nod from Severus to make clear that they would go to the Hall together.

Severus knew that these weekend arrangements made for a lot of rumours at the university. He was a professor there and Hermione was his student and so an intimate relationship between them would have been considered “inappropriate”. But his superior never asked - as most people at the university he knew that Severus had been very close to Hermione’s late husband and he seemed to appreciate that Severus didn’t only look after his dead friend’s widow, but after his young son too. Yet some of Severus’s colleagues had dared to ask – but only in getting a stare back. And Severus was still very good in staring people down.

About the students’ talking Severus didn’t care. When he’d learned one thing in his past, then it was that rumours weren’t worth any excitement. If people liked to think that he had an affair with the young widow – what was this to Severus? He could think of a lot worse things then people reckoning about him having an affair with a bright and certainly not ugly 21 year old. As long as no one dared to say he’d favour her he really couldn’t have cared less. The only thing he had cared about was Hermione’s reputation, but for saying so he earned a hearty laugh by her. “Dear Severus! I don’t give a fill-in-what-you-like for rumours anymore. The people I care for know who I am. On stranger’s opinions about me I’m not interested. As long as your girlfriends don’t come to throttle me because they’re jealous, I don’t have a problem to live with people believing I’d share your bed too. Only it’s a rather crowded place, isn’t it?”

Severus had only grunted to that – but she’d been true. After becoming a decorated war hero Severus had come in use not only with students having a crush on him, but with former pupils discovering thaty aly always had found their snarky potion master sexy. Some of them even went so far to tell him and it was not as if he’d always feel a need to run away then. Just on the contrary – he enjoyed it to become seduced now and then by a witch and he even didn’t mind if a talented one asked after a first night for a few performances more. Sometimes he even made the play then a five or six weeks run, but then the witches mostly started to become too demanding for his taste.

The last one had already in the second week opened the floodgates as he’d told her he wouldn’t see her on the weekend and as she had told him that she wouldn’t like to “share” him with this “bushy haired blue stocking Dumbledore who thinks herself the cream of the cake only because she was married to a legendary mummy” he’d shown her that peace times didn’t necessarily mean he’d lose his bite. He’d given the girl a good piece of his mind – and afterwards he’d made an appointment with the lady who wanted to take over the now vacant place in his bed.

Crossing now the street he saw how the blue painted door of Hermione’s house opened. A young man with brown hair, a very well muscled body and a smile much to toothy for Severus’s taste jumped energetic down the steps to the garden, wavhis his hand and crying cheerfully: “Thanks for the coffee, honey. See you soon!” Walking through the garden he discovered Severus, was obviously for a moment terrified – an effect Severus enjoyed very much – but then he showed again a rather large set of pearly white teeth and shouted a “Morning, Professor Snape! Long time no seen!”

Severus looked at him as he usually looked on a messed up potion and said with only the slightest bowing of his head: “Mister Wood …”

The former Gryffindor and now very famous Canon Cudley beater blushed as he’d done once back in Hogwarts as Severus had caught him snogging and suddenly seemed to be in a hurry. Murmuring something about “Preparation – game today – Dublin” he apparated with a “pop.”

In the same moment Severus heard the house’s door again and grinning at Hermione who stood there in only a t-shirt, he commented Wood’s departure with a sneered: “Exit frighten rabbit!”

“Oh, Severus! You’re incorrectable,” Hermione sighed. “The poor boy was already afraid of you enough. If I would have told him in the evening that I’m expecting you for breakfast, he’d have run away after dinner.”

“And what a pity this would have been!” Severus kissed the cheek she was offering him and followed her in the house. “I didn’t know you’ve warmed up your old liking for quidditch champions,” he said be walking in the kitchen where a coffee pot and two cups stood on the table. “I’ve thought you’re now in brains instead of bodies.” Looking suspiciously to the two cups, he took a fresh mug from a board and poured himself coffee.

“Brains I possess myself, thank you very much,” Hermione answered and poured herself coffee too. Then she took a cradle with fruit from a board, put it on the table, took an apple, sat down and said, biting into the apple: “You must admit, Oliver’s got a rather nice body.”

“Do forgive me, but I’m not very competent in judging men’s bodies,” Severus sneered. “But from what I remember about Mister Wood’s brain, I’m not entirely convinced that even your rather big portion of it is enough to make the two of you an average intelligent couple.”

“Says the man who just left Lavender Brown back in his bed.” Hermione made a face. “Really, Severus – you’re one to complain about my taste! Compared to Lavender dear Oliver is a mental giant.”

Severus grinned. “You must admit: Lavender’s got a rather nice body …” He took an orange out of the cradle and started to peel it. “Admittedly I wonder how you already knew. Do you supervise my bed?”

“Of course, Severus.” Hermione chewed cheerful on her apple. “You know I only slept with Oliver because I can’t have you. But as soon as you show me only the slightest sign of dropping your restrictions about students in your bed, I’ll jump on you. And then I’ll drive all Lavenders out of your life and …”

“… make me an honourable wizard?” Severus asked amused.

“Oh no! I once made a Slytherin an honourable wizard – and see where it got me!”

“In bed with a Gryffindor bore?” Severus licked orange juice from his fingers. “That’s actually quite a shame.”

“Huh? You’re talking about yourself?”

“No one said, female Gryffindors would be boring in bed,” Severus gave back. “Just on the contrary.”

Hermione laughed. Rising up, she threw the rest of her apple in the dustbin. “Be careful, Severus. Don’t forget: I’m a female Gryffindor.”

“That’s to to overlook.” Severus grinned at her naked legs. “And actually a rather nice one to look at.”

“Uh, Severus!” Hermione laid her hand against his forehead. “Are you sure you’re well? I mean compliments at this time in the morning? Actually you’re supposed to brood over a mug of black coffee, only opening your mouth for ranting with me because I’ve made you leave your bed companion without a chance for any nice morning exercises.”

“Hermione, I’m afraid you’re overestimating yourself.” Severus was finish with his coffee and orange. He took the three mugs to the sink and cleaned them. “If I would have wanted morning exercises you couldn’t have made me leave my bed. But after I’ve done at such an ungodly hour, I’d be rather grateful if you could get yourself presentable so we can leave.”

“Well, well.” Hermione marched to the door. “I’ll just shower and dress. Five minutes, then I’ll be ready.”

“Make it 10 and brush your hair!” Severus called after her, before he went in the living room where he took a magazine from a shelf and sat down on a cosy chair in front of the little fireplace. But instead of reading he looked to the pictures on the mantelpiece.

One of them was a muggle photograph from of a very nice looking couplee mae man had brown hair like Hermione and even with his short cut one could see that it was as bushy as hers. The woman he smiled up to him was a beauty with honey brown eyes, delicate skin and silky raven hair. Though Hermione wasn’t as breathtaking as her, the alikeness between mother and daughter was evident – Eleonore Granger had provided her daughter not only with her eyes and the porcelain skin, but with her very pretty hands too.

Next to the picture of Hermione’s parents stood a wizards photo of Harry, flying on his broom only a few feet over the ground and holding a beaming three year old. At first sight they looked like father and son with the boy having jet black hair like Harry. But at second look the differences became clear: Little Leontes’ hair was finer than Harry’s – courtesy of his beautiful grandmother Eleonore Granger – and he had azure blue eyes.

The next picture Severus knew very well – he’d taken it himself. It showed Albus in a blue muggle polo shirt and shorts, sitting on a bench in the garden, one leg up. Hermione, in a light beige summer dress, sat in front of him, leaning against his chest. She held a book and both read it, Albus looking over her shoulder with his mouth ir har hair. They both hadn’t noticed Severus as he’d photographed them, but later as he’d given Hermione the picture she’d beamed. Since then it was a favourite of hers.

Severus always thought that this very private picture made too strong a contrast to the next photograph on the mantelpiece. Yet Hermione always defended her choice with saying: “This one is the only of the both of you on which you don’t look as if you were to bite!”

That wasn’t true. Severus knew of at least two other photographs of Albus and him in which he even smiled. But they were taken after the final battle as Albus had already been very weak and so Severus understood why Hermione had chosen the one an auror had made on their last evening in Hogwarts. It was the last picture which showed Albus on his feet – and even more: Wearing a gorgeous burgundy and golden dress robe and even with his short hair and without the long beard – he’d been a sight on that evening, radiating sheer power. And Severus, thougwaysways very self-critical, thought he hadn’t made a bad impression either, standing in black velvet next to Albus. Yet what wondered him even today: The auror with the camera had got him with a hint of a smile. Actually there hadn’t been much cause for smiling, but he had tried to look friendly because he had know that Albus didn’t want to see only gloomy faces on what he thought would become the last hours of his life.

Hermione was back – in jeans and a shirt, a sweater loosely around her shoulders and her hair in a pony tail. She looked still very young and sometimes Severus found it hard to believe that she was the mother of a three year old and already a widow. To him it seemed like yesterday that he’d seen her in a Hogwarts robe and with a heavy satchel full of books entering his potion class room. Yet this time he’d never thought she’d become so close to him. Close – and probably the most important person in his life.

“Severus?” She approached him, laying a hand on his arm. She knew him well – better than every other human being. “Did I just a s a second head without noticing it? You look at me as I did.”

He smiled down at her and without any malice, but rather tender he answered: “I don’t think I could stand a two-headed you. You’d probably talk with two mouths then …”

“I’d like that,” Hermione grinned. “It would give me a fair chance to cope with your vitriolic tongue.”

“Fair?” Severus raised an eyebrow. “Where did you get your ideas about fairness?”

Hermione took his hand and pulled him out of the house. Warding the door she smiled at him. “You know, my best friend is a Slytherin. He probably rubs off on me.”

Severus liked very much she named him “her best friend”, but of course, he wouldn’t admit that to her. Instead he pulled his wand out. “Ready to go?”

“Of course. See you at the Hall!” With a “plop” Hermione disapparated.

Severus smiled to himself as he waved his wand and concentrated on his destination. Old habits really died hard – or rather didn’t die at all. Even after three years in peace he’d never apparate before her – he still felt a need to make sure she wasn’t followed. And he still was always glad, when he found her waiting in the Hall’s garden – in one piece and with a smile. Yet this smile wasn’t directed at him, but at her son who just stormed out of the house, waving a toy broom and screaming: “Mummy, Mummy, look! Uncle Sev – I’ve got a broom!”

Ginny Weasley followed the boy and on arriving Hermione and Seveshe she turned her eyes: “Harry came to the Burrow yesterday to see Leon. He gave him the broom.”

Hermione was on her knees and hugging her son. “Hi, Sweetie. I’ve missed you.”

Yet Leontes wasn’t much interested in displays of motherly affection at that moment. He fidgeted to get on his feet again, looking up at Severus. “Uncle Sev – can you make it fly?”

When asked by one of his girlfriends if he’d like children, Severus said still – and with his most determined “don’t forget who I am” voice, as Hermione had once named it – that he detested children of every age. And he didn’t only say so because he didn’t want to get one of the girls’ funny ideas but because he still felt so. And no, he didn’t see Leontes as the exception of the rule.

Leontes simply didn’t count as “child” in Severus’ opinion because he wasn’t a child, but Leontes – a small and sometimes too ebullient, but nevertheless own person who had to be taken serious. Therefore Severus never cuddled him – and why shouldn’t he? Leontes got enough cuddles from the women folk – Hermione, Ginny, Molly and even Minerva who obviously saw herself as honourable grandmother and forgot all her stern headmistress attitudes as soon as the boy came close to her. Besides the women weren’t alone in always hugging and kissing Leontes. Arthur could hardly get around the boy without embracing him and even allowed him to seat on his lap when he was at his desk in the ministry. And Ron and Harry were hardly better than Arthur. So Leontes really didn’t need Severus chasing him with kisses and hugs too. Of course – when they were alone with each other, wandering along the river side as they both liked, Leontes sometimes took Severus’ hand. But this didn’t count as less as “cuddling” as Severus taking the boy on his shoulders when he was tired. Leontes was Leontes and not any “child” and that he was the only person who’d ever got permission to shorten Severus’ name to a “Sev” – Merlin’s balls, “Severus” was rather a mouthful for a boy this age!

Although this very special relationship - to see Leontes look up at his “Uncle Sev” with this “I believe you can do everything”-look in the blue eyes made Severus always feeling a pang of sadness. It simply wasn’t right that he was Leontes’ male role model and that it was him the boy looked up like this. He didn’t deserve this absolute and unquestioned admiration and this love. It should have belonged to Albus and he would have deserved and he would have loved his son back and he’d have made him and Hermione happy. For him, Severus Snape, former death eater and bastard extraordinaire, it was impossible to stand on the place which should have been Albus’ and one day Leontes would learn this. One day – and Severus was sure this day would come sooner than he wished for – some one would tell the boy what a man his surrogate father really was. But until then Severus would look after the boy as he’d promised Albus.

So he bent on his knees now, taking the toy broom out of toy’soy’s sweaty hands and said: “Let’s see what I can do …”

“Severus!” cried Hermione and Ginny in infuriated unison.

“You can’t make this thing fly!” Ginny proceeded, seconded by Hermione: “He’s not even three years old!”

Leontes made a face – a pretty good copy of Severus’ trademark sneer: “But I want to fly!” he protested.

Severus smiled at him. “And you will. But not so high your Mom and Aunt Ginny will have the jitters. You know, women are rather fearsome when it comes to flying.”

“Ah?” Ginny Weasley sounded offended. “Did you forget that I was the seeker in the team who beat your precious Slytherins more then once?”

Severus didn’t answer. He gave the toy broom back to Leontes. “Mount your broom, young man,” he commanded and pulled his wand out. Directing it at the boy he murmured a “wingardium leviosa” just as Leontes kicked himself off the ground. The spell made the boy and broom hover in the air and Leontes squeaked in delight.


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“So.” Severus came in the library and sank down in one of the cosy chairs in front of the fireplace. “Your little monster is sleeping. He was pretty groggy – we didn’t even come to the fourth picture in his album.” As always on the weekends in the Hall, Leontes had insisted on Severus bringing him to bed with his mother only coming up for a kiss – because she “needs that”, as he’d seriously told Severus once. But after the kiss Hermione had to go because the last part of the weekend evening ritual was “for men only” and meant, that Leontes got the albums with the photographs of his father and made Severus tell a story to every one of them.

“Small wonder after flying all day and running around like mad,” Hermione smiled. “I wish I have his energy.”

“You aren’t bad in the energy department either,” Severus said, stretching his legs. “Only I feel now like an old man. A day with Leontes is more exercise than running through my lab all week.”

“Poor old Uncle Sev!” Hermione raised and went to the fireplace. “What do you think would restore you best? Fire whiskey or sharing a bottle of Rioja with me?”

“Rioja would be nice.” Severus kicked off his shoes and laid his feet in black socks on an empty chair. “But since when are we in Spain wines?”

“Since we’ve emptied all of Albus’ French collection,” Hermione answered and ringed for a house elf. “The Bordeaux last week was the last one. Now I’ve bought a few bottles of Rioja – I thought we could do with a change. I’ve always found the French a bit heavy.”

Prissy, the youngest elf appeared with the usual “pop”, looking a bit nervous because she was only since a few weeks in the Hall and felt still insecure. Hermione asked her politely for the bottle and two glasses, and then she sat down again, putting her feet up on the same chair as Severus. “It’s nice to be at home …” she said with a content sigh.

“Are we alone this evening?” Severus asked. “Where’s Ginny? Dating Mister Potter?”

Hermione turned her eyes. “Their relationship is off again,” she said.

“For how long this time? Four days or four weeks?” Severus sounded bored.

“Ginny says it’s forever. He can’t get it in that pig head of his that she doesn’t want to marry yet and him proposing once a week drives her crazy,” Hermione told him.

Severus laughed. “You know it’s rather funny. My relationships always go down the bog because I don’t want to propose. Perhaps I should start dating Ginny.”

The house elf came with the bottle and the glasses; Hermione took it and bid her farewell. Then she uncorked the bottle. “You won’t date Ginny,” she said by it. “She’s got brains; therefore she doesn’t suit your prey scheme.” She poured a sip of the red vine in her glass and tasted it. “Not too bad.”

Severus raised one of his elegant eyebrows. “You know, it’s actually the man’s task to taste the vine?”

“Chauvinist!” Hermione poured him a glass, gave it to him and leaned back, after filling her glass to the brim. “I’m pretty well able to try wine myself.”

Severus drank a sip, rolling it around his tongue and enjoying the rich taste. “I don’t deny it. You’ve even developed a better taste in wine than in men.”

“About wine I learned from the best,” Hermione said.

“And about men?” Severus asked dryly.

For a moment Hermione was silent. Then she said quietly: “I think we’re pretty much alike in that, Severus. If one of us would have to choice some one to live with we both were very demanding. Perhaps even too demanding.”

Severus looked into the dancing flames in the fireplace. “One day you’ll have to choice, Hermione,” he said then. “You can hardly spend the rest of your life with short-living, meaningless affairs.”

“And why not?” Hermione sounded aggressive. “You obviously think you can – and since when are you a hypocrite?”

“I’m not a hypocrite, Hermione – at least not in that department.” Severus drank another sip. “But I’m 42 years old and you’re only 21. I’ve missed the train to marriage years before …”

“While I’ve been there,” Hermione said. “And I think one marriage is enough.”

“Is it?” Severus looked with a raised eyebrow at her, the light of the flames glittering in his dark eyes. “I didn’t know it was such a hardship to you.”

“Severus!” Hermione almost shouted. “You know, I don’t like your sarcasm on this subject.”

“I was not being sarcastic,” he answered calmly. “You made it sound as if you’d have suffered so much you got enough of marriage to last you forever.”

“I didn’t suffer and you know that.” Hermione filled her glass again. “It’s just the other way round: I can’t imagine I could become as happy with another man as I was with Albus. I still compare every man I meet to him – and who could stand a chance then?”

“Therefore you get yourself lover who are as far away from him as thinkable,” Severus stated quietly. “But does that make you happy?”

“Happy …” Hermione repeated, breathing deeply. She shook her head. “No, Severus, I wouldn’t name it happiness. Happiness is what I found with Albus. Happiness is what I get with Leontes smiling at me – and sometimes with my work and …” she sounded almost shyly now, “… it’s probably a kind of happiness I feel when we sit here together. What I got from Stephen and now from Oliver …” she considered a moment, then she proceeded: “Let’s call it ‘fun’ – or does that sound too frivolous for you?”

Severus smiled slightly. “Considered how my love life is I should be the last one to judge somebody who wants to have a little fun. You’re probably even less frivolous in this than I am because you don’t hurt anyone with it. Stephen wasn’t in love with you and Wood …”

“He isn’t in love with me either,” Hermione said. “We are just acting on physical attraction. But do you think Lavender is in love with you?”

“I don’t hope so,” Severus answered. “I’m certainly not in love with her, but she’s a nice girl. A bit silly and probably with the emotional range of a teaspoon, but I nevertheless wouldn’t like to hurt her.”

“So you care about her!” Hermione sounded almost amazed.

“Isn’t that part of the physical attraction?” Severus raised an eyebrow. “Or, as Albus once said: ‘Even for a Slytherin it’s hard to make his member stand up for a lady he can’t stand.”

Hermione shook her head. “And how did he come to make this statement?”

Severus grinned. “It was his answer as I tried to persuade him in shagging Narcissa Malfoy.”

“What?” Hermione choked on her wine and shuddered then. “How did you come to such an idea? I mean she is a beauty, no doubt about that. But I imagine sex with her is like banging an ice cube!”

“So Albus said too,” Severus seemed very amused. “I told him then that he’s a wimp and I even offered him a potion that’d have made him able to melt half of the South Pole – but he obviously was too afraid of getting chilblains on his crown jewels.”

Hermione was still shaking her head. “I can’t believe it!”

“Albus being a wimp?” Severus grinned even broader.

“No – yes.” Hermione laughed. “You know he wasn’t one. But why did you try to talk him into shagging Narcissa Malfoy? I mean it would have been nice to see Lucius’ face by learning about it, but …”

“Lucius probably would have gotten a heart attack – and wouldn’t that have been nice?” Severus said. “This was one of the reasons why I liked the idea. The other was: Dear Narcissa wanted it so much.”

“Narcissa wanted Albus?” Hermione was fascinated. “I would always have thought that he was just her anti type!”

Severus filled up his glass again. Leaning back then he looked at Hermione. “You’re not so naïve as you act now, Hermione. Even as a school girl at Hogwarts Narcissa was already after Albus as a bear after the honey pot. She craved nothing more than power – and Albus was the most powerful wizard alive. Even after she married Lucius she made a few passes at Albus and so I thought once that with Lucius as the dark lord’s lapdog and his tendency to boast by his wife she could become a valuable source for information.”

“In Albus’ bed?” Hermione sounded sceptical. “Wouldn’t she have tried to spy on him too?”

“Of course,” Severus agreed. “But in a cat and mouse play with these partners – who, do you think, would have been the mouse? Albus certainly not.”

“He hated power plays in private,” Hermione said quietly. “And I can’t imagine he’d have ever done a power play in his bed chamber.”

“He didn’t,” Severus sipped at his wine. “I got him to consider it – it was at the time the order was weak and Voldemort very strong, shortly before the attack on the Potters. I wasn’t high in esteem of Voldemort at this time – I had only a few weeks before ‘messed up’ another attack.” His face became hard and his eyes cold. “I killed a wizard in this attack, Hermione,” he said quietly, his voice neutral. He saw that Hermione swallowed and pale and proceeded, his voice still flat: “He was a death eater who had tried to betray the dark lord. Therefore he wanted to get him alive for making him suffer a long and painful death. The man knew and he begged me to kill him quickly. I did. Voldemort wasn’t pleased, as you probably can imagine. I hardly made it back to Hogwarts in one piece and if Fawkes hadn’t found me I wouldn’t have survived. Afterwards I was for a few weeks out of the game and we became really desperate. Henceforth my idea of Albus bedding Narcissa. He thought about it, but then he decided he wouldn’t go so far. I can’t say I shared his moral scruples – but morality was always rather his field than mine. I was the spy – and spying is dirty work. Albus was the leader – and as such he had to see the great picture.”

“I think he was right,” Hermione said thoughtfully. “

“Of course you do. You’re a Gryffindor,” Severus said almost bored.

“Not all Gryffindors showed high moral standards during this war,” Hermione reminded him.

“But having them is easier for a Gryffindor than it is for us snakes. You’re walking in the light with every one expecting you to be good and brave. Even if one of your lot fails people are willing to find an apology like ‘Every one can make a mistake and he didn’t really mean it’. If one of us goes wrong, people say ‘What did you expect? He’s a Slytherin’. Even Albus being a Slytherin didn’t save our reputation. He was seen as the exception from the rule and if I’d have got a galleon every time I heard somebody say that with him the sorting hat made a mistake, I’d be a rich man.”

“He never doubted the Sorting Hat,” Hermione said quietly. “But … “She looked at her companion. “Don’t laugh at me, Severus, but …” hesitating she started new: “Craving power – you said Narcissa Malfoy did – and people say it’s typical for Slytherins. But what about you? I know that Minerva asked you after the war to become her deputy and we both know what that means: With the exception of Albus almost every Hogwarts Headmaster was first deputy. So you would have become headmaster – but you refused. Isn’t that not typical for a Slytherin?”

Severus sighed. “My, my, Hermione – sometimes you’re really too Gryffindor. And Gryffindors mostly don’t have a clue about power and what it really means. To me power is not about position, rank and status, but about knowledge. To know more then other people, to know things which could make me more domineering than other people – that’s what power is about and that’s a kind of power I’m keen for. And that’s …” he became silent for a moment, then, drinking another sip of his wine and licking over his dry lips, he said in the tone of a confession: “That’s what made me go to the dark side. As the son of my father and a Slytherin I couldn’t hope for a good potion master taking me up as his apprentice. The only decent offer I ever got came from Albus – and at that time I couldn’t take it. My pride didn’t allow it. So it was mediocrity or Voldemort …”

Hermione shuddered, laying her arms around herself. “I hate to think of you as a death eater,” she said quietly.

“But I was one,” Severus said firmly.

“And what …” Hermione chewed on her bottom lip, not looking at him. “I’ve never asked you and probably I shouldn’t, but I really would like to know what made you change sides.”

Severus played with his glass. Letting the rest of his wine circle in it, he answered: “I think it was me being a true Slytherin.”

“Hmm?” Hermione didn’t understand.

Severus laughed – a short and bitter laugh. “As I said: I’m a Slytherin who wants power. And so I learned pretty soon that the dark lord would give me neither power nor knowledge. With him I got only so much that I needed to do his dirty deeds. I was his slave …”

“And so you went back to Albus?” Hermione asked.

“No.” Severus shook his dark head. “I didn’t intend to crawl back to him, hiding myself behind his back. Just on the contrary. I planned to pay for my mistake in judgement by going to Azkaban, getting the dementor’s kiss. Informing Albus about …” Once again he studied the content of his glass, and then he emptied it with one gulp. “I think it was a pretty childish thing,” he said then. “I couldn’t forgive him about the incident with Lupin. He’d failed me with that and I was too young and too stupid to see his reasons. I thought he should have expelled Black – and as he refused and even threatened to obliviate me if I wouldn’t give him my wizard’s word of honour to keep it secret, I took this as ‘Your life is not worth it to punish Black for endangering it’.”

Slowly Hermione said: “I can imagine how miserable you felt. But Albus could hardly do other than he did – not without sending Remus away.”

“It wasn’t only Lupin,” Severus said. “It was Black too. You know what his family was like. Expelling him from Hogwarts would have meant to get him under their influence again – and Albus knew that Black wasn’t one to withstand strong influences. So it was kind of waging – on the one side me, already damned by my heritage and house and therefore to be seen as the lost case. On the other hand Lupin and Black.”

“No,” Hermione almost shouted. “I don’t believe Albus ever saw you as the ‘lost case’. You know he loved you like a son. And …,” she breathed deeply, “… he certainly didn’t like Sirius Black better then you. Just on the contrary. Molly – who wasn’t a big fan of Black either – told me once about a row between you and him at Grimmault’s Place. As Albus learnt about, he – I quote Molly – ‘went berserk’. She said she’d rarely seen him so furious and she’d never heard him shout like he shouted with Sirius then.”

Severus laughed. “Molly missed the row Albus and I had about that. I was afraid he’d blow down the walls of my dungeons with his rage.” Filling his glass again he looked at Hermione. “But back to your question why I went back. I did it because I wanted to hurt Albus. Just so simple. It was defiance – something like ‘look what you’ve made me become.”

“Today,” Hermione said slowly. “He’d like very much what you’ve become. And so do I …” She bent forwards and took his hand. Looking into his eyes she smiled: “From all the things I’ve got from him – it’s you and Leontes that means the most to me.”

Severus fought for a moment against awkwardness. He’d never been good in showing somebody affection and he actually was a shy man – at least when it came to showing his heart. But this was Hermione and she was his best friend and so he bent over her hand and kissed it. “From what I ever got from Albus – including that he gave me a life worth living – it’s you and Leontes that I appreciate most. The two of you are a big part of what makes my life worth living.”


To be continued …