Custody Battle

He stood there, rooted to the cement block, gazing up at the house. It was quaint to say the least, a little muggle town in the outskirts of the Scottish highlands, and there were a few other houses on the block just like it. Albus had given him leave for the weekend, in hopes that he would straighten out the matters involving his eleven-year-old daughter. It had taken him nearly all of Friday just to track her down, seeing as Hermione Granger practically disappeared off the face of the earth, eleven years ago.

But there he was, just in front of the address that he’d finally pinned her to, just a bit past noon on Saturday. Dressed in his traditional black, though he’d worn trousers and a dress shirt rather than his frock coat and robes after discovering that she had taken up residence in a muggle area, he raised a long finger to the doorbell and pressed it. It did not take but a moment for the door to swing open and a rather tall and handsome sandy haired man came to the door, a little girl in a pink party dress in his arms, and a slightly older boy clinging to his leg.

“Can I help you?” he asked, politely, staring at Severus with weary eyes. The man appeared to be near thirty, perhaps a bit older and the girl in his arms no more than three, the boy at his feet perhaps five.

“Erm,” he said, clearing his throat feeling that perhaps he’d made a huge mistake. “I was looking for Miss Hermione Granger, but it would appear I have the wrong house.”

“Oh, not at all!” he chuckled and shifted the girl in his arms to extend a hand to him. “Only she goes by Hermione Davonshire these days, has for the last nine wonderful years,” he smiled. “I’m Blake, her husband, and you are?”

Severus frowned. That had explained why he had had such terrible trouble in tracking the witch down. Not only had she moved into a muggle community, it would seem that she had married a muggle as well. “A former Professor of hers, from—” he paused. What if the man knew nothing of the magical world? And then it occurred to him that if he was Hermione’s husband, he would surely have been there to see her oldest daughter off to Hogwarts. “—from Hogwarts, and I’m here on official Hogwarts business.”

“Oh, well come on right in then!” he smiled, and wiggled his leg a bit. “Eric, off.” The little boy let go of his father’s leg and scrabbled down the foyer and into the house. “Hermione’s not home right this minute, but she should be back any moment now, she’s picking up Jocelyn from lil league Quidditch.”

Severus nearly choked. “Ah,” he nodded. “Perhaps I should just come back at another time then.”

“Nonsense, she really will be back quite soon, why don’t you come have some tea in the kitchen?” As he walked past the stairs he saw the little boy sitting on the steps, only in double. He appeared to have a twin. Hermione had certainly been busy, or so it would seem. Blake led him into a moderately sized kitchen and pulled up two stools at the island rather than at the table which was covered in some sort of colored dough. “Don’t mind the mess, Emma and I were just making a play dough feast for mummy, weren’t we?” he asked the little girl who he sat down at the table before moving about the kitchen to make tea. “I’m sorry, what did you say your name was?”

“Severus Snape,” he said flatly and eyed the little blue eyed girl who was mashing her fingers into a bowl of bright green colored dough. “Forgive me, Blake, but how many children do you and Miss Granger— I mean Mrs. Davonshire have? Do forgive me, old habits die hard.”

He chuckled and put a kettle on. “Ah, don’t worry, old sport.” He beamed a smile at him, which Severus beamed an even bigger fake one right back. “We have five. Caterina is our oldest, she just started at Hogwarts, actually,” he said and bustled about the kitchen pulling out two tea cups, sugar, spoons, and cream. “Then there’s Jocelyn, she’s seven, there’s the twins, Eric and Benjamin, they’re five, and Emma there just turned three.”

“Indeed,” he said and shook his head when he was asked if he took sugar or cream in his tea. Twenty minutes passed them by and in that short time Severus learned of Hermione’s many accomplishments working for a private muggle alchemist, working on the relations between magical and muggle drugs and how they could be used to transcend health problems among both groups. She’d made quite a name for herself in muggle sciences and Blake was all too happy to elaborate on that.

“Mum!” a girl cried from the hall leading into the kitchen. “When I’m finished helping you with the groceries, can I go over to Matilda’s and play?” A rather lanky and tall girl for the age of seven came bounding into the kitchen, placing four rather large shopping bags right on the island between Severus and Blake. “Hi dad!” she smiled and then moved over to where Emma sat at the table.

“Hello, pumpkin,” he grinned and then stood up. Hermione came tottering through the door to the kitchen a moment later, bags piled so high she couldn’t see overtop them.

“So sorry I’m late, love, but I figured I’d get the shopping done now that way we could—” but she froze, one of the bags toppling to the floor, her eyes wide and focused on Severus.

“Is everything alright?” Blake asked, rushing toward her. “Hermione? Hermione?”

It took her a moment to stop gaping at him. Her eyes never left his and she could hardly find her voice. “What are you doing here?”

Severus stood and took two steps toward her. “I think you know exactly what I’m doing here, Mrs. Davonshire.”