This
chapter was
co-written with the ineffable Miss Stella Revolution, but as she's
dropped off the face of the planet for the time being, I'll be writing
the next bits by me onesies until further notice. As always,
these characters belong
to JKR, except for Saoirse, who belongs to Stella and me. And actually,
I came to find out the other day that I accidentally stole the idea for
a "daughter named freedom" from Roddy Doyle. Oops.
Hallways
and Forgotten Spaces
By
Deirdre Riordan and Stella Revolution
Chapter
1
Harry
had loved Brighid. There was no one who
could question
that for a second. Theirs had been a marriage of comfort, both of them
longing
to have someone to hold through the long nights during the war. She had
come
from Ireland
to
aid the Order in the fight against Voldemort and had quickly become
indispensable, both to the Order and to Harry, even long after the
battles
ended and peace was restored. Had she attended Hogwarts, Harry was
certain she
would have been a Hufflepuff-- long-suffering, diligent, loyal to a
fault. Who
else could have put up with him, after all? There had never been real
fire
between them, but there had been warmth and love of the most steady and
sure
kind.
Her
death had been no freak accident, and for that
Harry was
grateful. He couldn't have stood yet another person being ripped away
from him
with no warning. Though the last year had been excruciating just the
same.
There hadn't been much anyone could do, doctors and mediwizards alike,
mostly
for the reason that no one had ever seen her disease before. Her
insides had
merely begun to dissolve, little by little. They had been able to delay
it,
certainly, with potions and transplants, but it could not be stopped.
The
Muggle doctors had tried to give it some long Latin name. The
Mediwizards just
threw up their hands and said it could very well be the after-effect of
some of
the curses she'd been hit with in the war for all they knew. Harry had
quit his
job as an Auror immediately when Brighid fell ill, and had spent the
remaining
time taking care of her and doing things she'd always wanted to do.
There had
been wonderful times, seasides and holidays when Brighid was well
enough, but
they were always bittersweet with the knowledge that each one could be
the
last. Harry glanced down at the little raven-haired girl who was asleep
next to
him in the train compartment. They'd waited to tell her until it could
no
longer be hidden or explained away that there was something very, very
wrong
with Mam. For her five years, Saoirse had been surprisingly mature. She
had
bawled for hours, of course, when she found out, but when Brighid's
final hour
came, she'd tearfully kissed her mother goodbye and told her she'd see
her in
Heaven. That had just about torn Harry's heart out. But Brighid had
died
peacefully, more or less, and they had been as ready for it as was
possible.
Now
Harry and his daughter sat on the Hogwarts
Express, on
the way to the large, solemn Parting that was accorded to all former
Order
members. He could have easily Apparated with his small daughter, of
course, or
come to that, driven the car, but there was something about watching
the
Scottish countryside go by through the windows of the Express that he needed right now.
When
they reached the station at Hogsmeade, Colm,
Brigid's
father (and incidentally only living relative) was there waiting, along
with
Hermione, Luna, and… Snape? What on earth was he doing there? Harry
knew for a
fact that he and his daughter were the only ones on the train, so he
had to be
coming to meet them.
"Daideó!"
Saoirse exclaimed, jumping up
onto her
grandfather.
"Dia
dhuit," Colm said, reaching around his
granddaughter to shake Harry's hand.
"Dia
is Muire dhuit," Harry replied. This was
pretty much the extent of his Irish, but Saoirse began chattering
excitedly.
Hermione
and Luna got hugs and kisses, and then
came the
problem of how on earth to greet Severus Snape. They had last parted
with no
ill-will between them, but they had parted strangely, on the brink of
an
almost-friendship. Somewhere past handshakes, but not quite to hugs.
Eventually
he gave up and just embraced the man briefly.
"Hello,
Severus."
"Hello,
Harry." They both of them held on longer
than they meant to. Harry couldn't help it. The scent on the silky
black hair
pressed to his face was one he remembered well, one of rosemary and
cinnamon
and things being okay.
"Greasy
git, don't bother owling."
"Insolent
brat." But these insults were uttered
with as much affection as one can put into any term of endearment.
Harry felt
relieved. At least things were where they had stood previously.
The
group decided to walk up to the castle, since
the sunny
afternoon provided some ready-made cheer, and Saoirse needed to burn
off some
energy. They walked five abreast, with Saoirse running circles round
them,
demanding to be picked up and put down every thirty seconds. She
catapulted
onto her father, nearly knocking him over. "Oof! Love, you'll soon be
too
big to be carried," Harry said jokingly, knowing full well he'd carry
her
till she was twenty if she asked.
"Ní
bheidh!" she exclaimed, and scrambled
up
Harry's shoulder onto a very surprised Severus. Harry braced himself
for the
fallout.
It
didn't come. Severus shocked him. "Are we a
monkey?" He asked in a playful voice, removing the girl from his
shoulders
and holding her in his arms.
The man's gone barmy!
"I never knew you liked kids, Severus."
The
Headmaster smirked. "I adore them until they
turn
eleven, Potter." The rest of the group stifled a laugh.
"Da,
can I stay with Daideó when we get to
the castle?
He said I could if you don't mind."
"Is
this true, Colm?" he asked, raising an
eyebrow. "Does the monkey speak the truth?"
"I'd
love to have her, Harry. You probably have
loads
of catching up with people round here to do, and I'll not be seeing her
till
Christmas."
"Right,
then. Hear that, sweetheart? You're
staying
with Daideó."
"Go
raibh maith agat!"
Harry
was thankful that the other guests weren’t
due to
arrive until the next day. They ate dinner in the Great Hall with the
staff,
and Harry was able to catch up on some of the old news in between
sessions of
his daughter showing off. Everyone found her adorable, and she knew it.
Even
the snarky Headmaster had a small smile on his face.
"Reminds
me a lot of her father," Severus said
quietly, leaning toward Harry.
Harry
grinned. "Well, yes, she is gorgeous, isn't
she?" This elicited giggles from those in earshot.
Saoirse
eventually ran out of energy and was
carried off to
bed by her grandfather. Harry felt terrible for the man. It was Harry's
opinion
that parents should never outlive their children. Colm's wife had been
gone for
ages; Brighid had never even known her. Harry was grateful that Saoirse
would
be able to remember her mother, and that Colm had the little girl to
take his
mind off things. Harry had offered many times for his father-in-law to
join him
in Dublin, but the older
man always
shook his head, saying he couldn't bear to leave Connemara.
Harry wondered about Dublin.
There
was little there for him now, other than a home that held more pain
than
anything else at this point, and a few acquaintances. But he felt it
would be
unfair to Saoirse, and to Colm. So, for the near future, he was
staying. There
would be a decision to make when it came time for her to go to school.
She
would likely get two letters, one from Hogwarts and one from
Coláiste dé
Danann, the school her mother had attended. Harry wanted her to go to
Hogwarts,
of course, and Brighid had wanted the same, but the choice would
ultimately be
up to Saoirse.
The
staff began to excuse themselves from the
table, in
preparation of the long day ahead of them. Harry rose to leave as well,
but
Snape touched his shoulder. "Will you come for a drink?" he asked.
Harry
nodded and silently followed him to his
rooms. Harry
was surprised to find that he'd taken Dumbledore's old quarters.
"Moved
out of the dungeons at last, Severus? I
think
Hell must have frozen over."
Snape
smirked. "Bloodstone," he said to the
gargoyle.
"If you must know, Potter," he said as they ascended the stairs,
"apparently there's actually a clause in the school charter that says
the
Headmaster must inhabit these rooms. I was not particularly thrilled."
They
entered the office and Harry looked around.
Much of it
was the same as it had been when Dumbledore was Headmaster. Some of the
paintings were different (Severus appeared to have got rid of the more
disagreeable former Headmasters), and the carpeting had been changed to
a deep
green. The chairs had been changed for some Harry recognised as having
come
from Severus' old office. Some of the Frightening Things in Jars had
also made
their way to the new office, as had the antique scales and vials. The
effect
was strange, seeing these artefacts mixed in with those of Dumbledore
and many
of his predecessors.
"The
memories in this place," Harry breathed as he
followed Severus up the stairs into his private quarters. Harry had
never been
in here before. The Headmaster gestured to the couch. Harry sat down
and
watched as Severus lit the fire and poured two glasses of whiskey.
Snape
sat down across from him and handed him his
glass.
"I'm terribly sorry about Brighid," he said at length.
Harry
nodded. "Thank you. It's all right, though.
She
was in so much pain."
"If
you don't mind my asking, do you know what it
was?"
He
shook his head. "No, nobody knows. Her internal
organs were basically disintegrating little by little. No one could
figure out
what caused it. Our best guess was the after-effects of curses reacting
with
one another."
"Why
didn't you contact me?"
"Severus,
you couldn't have done anything, no more
than
a fleet of Mediwizards and Muggle doctors could."
"She
was a good woman."
"Yes,
she was. I hate that Saoirse has to grow up
without
her. But she's got me, and she's got Colm. She'll be better off than I
was."
"Her
command of Irish is astounding for someone
her
age."
Harry
laughed. "It certainly is. Sometimes I'm
afraid
she'll forget her English-- at times she'll speak Irish to me and not
even know
she's doing it. She learned from Brighid and Colm."
"Will
you be sending her to primary school?"
Harry
sighed. "The eternal debate. I want her
home, of
course, but the only decent Wizarding primary school in Dublin
was burned to the ground in the war. My choices are to move to Connemara
with her, or just send her there on her own."
"Have
you ever thought about coming back to Britain?
There are plenty of respectable institutions in London,
or Hogsmeade for that matter."
"I've
thought about it. But I don't want to leave
Colm
alone, and he won't leave Connemara. He's been
like a
father to me these past six years, Sev. I feel as though I owe it to
him to
stay. I owe it to Saoirse."
"It's
not as though it’s all that far."
"I
know. It just isn't the same somehow, though.
And if
I'm sending her to primary school, I want it to be in the Republic. I
don't
want her to lose her Irish." Harry put down his drink and rested his
chin
in his hand. "I just wish Brighid were still around. She'd know what to
do. I'm lost without her, really."
Something
imperceptible crossed Severus' face, but
faded
back into the customary mask before Harry could place what it was. "You
loved her greatly, didn't you?"
Harry
sighed. "Yeah, I did. Maybe not the way you
think,
but I did."
An
eyebrow raised in question. "Not the way I
think?"
"Sev,
you know how it was with Brighid and me.
There
were never fireworks. But we were comfortable together and made each
other
happy. We hardly ever made love, we mostly just held one another. It
was all we
needed most of the time. She always listened to me, never judged me,
never
labelled me or expected great feats of me. Other than my daughter, of
course, she
was one of maybe three people I've ever known who truly saw past the
scar. Even
Colm has a tendency to put me on a pedestal at times."
"Who
were the other two?"
"You
and Luna."
Severus
looked more than a little surprised. "What
about Hermione?"
"No,
when it came right down to it, not even her.
I
thought she could, but it was never the same after Ron died. All the
time, it
was like she was silently asking me why I didn't save him. Luna,
though-- well,
I suppose she's too barmy to care about things like fame and glory. And
you.
You hated me. You were the only one who ever made me prove myself."
Severus
laid a hand on his arm. "I never hated
you. I
did make you prove yourself, but only because I knew you'd be facing
worse
things than a snarky Potions professor. I wanted you to be ready."
"Well,
then… thanks."
Severus
sighed. "We shouldn't dwell on such
things.
What are your plans now?"
"What,
for tonight, or for the rest of my life?"
"The
latter."
"I'm
not sure. The Aurors at the Dublin Ministry
will
take me back, of course. I was only on an extended leave. But I'm not
sure if I
want to go back to them. I don't strictly need to work. I've still got
most of
my parents' inheritance, and Brighid's insurance settlement will pay
for more
schooling than Saoirse could ever dream of needing. I'll probably go
mad if I
don't keep busy, though. I've toyed with the idea of writing a book.
But every
time I pick up a quill, I just choke."
"Have
you ever considered coming back here and
teaching? We could really use you. The Defence Against the Dark Arts
position
still seems to be cursed, and I think maybe you could break it."
Harry
gave an exasperated sigh and pinched the
bridge of his
nose. "Did you not catch the part where I don't want to leave Ireland?"
he asked, a little irritated.
"Don't
want to, or feel like you can't?"
Harry
ignored the question. "Severus, if I'd known
your
only motive tonight was to try and rope me into a teaching contract,
I'd not
have come up here with you." There was an edge in his voice that was
always there right before he exploded and started yelling.
"Harry,
don't get upset. That wasn't my motive at
all." He reached over and clasped Harry's hand.
Harry
ripped his hand away. "What was your motive,
then?"
"To
make sure you were all right. To try and mend
whatever it was that made you storm out of my office the night you told
me you
were marrying Brighid and not speak a word to me for six years. To try
and keep
that from happening again. To remind you that I care for you and that
I'm here
if you need me." His voice was calm.
"Do
you want to know what happened that night? Do
you
want to know why I left and never looked back?" Harry asked in a
choked,
bitter tone. "Because it was you I was in love with! I wanted you to
stop
me! But you just smiled and wished me joy like you couldn't see what
was
written all over my face. And you could, I know you could. You knew.
That's why
I left." He stood up. "And that's why I'm leaving now."
"Harry…"
Snape tried to grab his arm and stop him
leaving, but Harry again violently pulled away, his eyes wild. He was
out the
door and down the stairs before Severus' next statement was out of his
mouth.
"I didn't know." Snape picked up Harry's empty glass and threw it
against the far wall with as much force as he could muster.
*
*
*
Severus
saw Harry the next day, of course, but
they didn't
speak. Harry wouldn't even meet his eyes. Hermione looked at him
questioningly,
but he just shook his head and went back to his newspaper.
The
memorial service was beautiful. The front lawn
of
Hogwarts was draped in dewy white roses and lilies that glistened in
the late
morning sun. He gave a short speech about Brighid's sacrifices and her
work for
the Light. Then Harry got up to give the eulogy.
"Brighid
was not merely my wife," he began.
"She was my friend, my confidante, and my comrade, my partner in
everything. She took every hardship with a brave face, found a little
piece of
triumph in even the worst defeat. It was no different when she got
sick. We
postponed the inevitable as long as possible, but when it came, she was
ready,
and she met it with a brave face. The only tears she shed through the
entire
ordeal, through all the physical pain and defeat and frustration, were
when our
daughter kissed her goodbye. She left us behind, yes, but she also left
behind
a great legacy of loyalty and tenacity that cannot be forgotten. In her
last
hours she said to me--" Harry paused to wipe his eyes, "--she said,
'Don't let them mourn me. But don't let them forget me either.' So, by
the
order of the late and great Brighid Aoife Uí Braonáin
Potter, I must command you not to weep or to mourn, but to
remember and to celebrate the thirty good years she gave us. And, also
by her
orders, due to the fact that I couldn't say no to her, I'm now to sing
the song
she wanted me to sing. It's a Muggle song, and one of her favourites.
Luna." Luna Lovegood stepped onto the stage with a viola and took her
place next to Harry. Severus didn't know whether to laugh or cry when
he heard
the opening notes of "Both Sides Now." He was also surprised when he
heard Harry's rich tenor wash over the crowd. He'd had no idea the man
could
sing.
"…I’ve looked at
life from both sides now
From up and down, and still somehow
It’s life’s illusions I recall
I really don’t know life at all."
Harry's
performance was met by a round of tearful
applause.
"I think," he said when it died down, "That she wanted us to
remember to live. To know life, and
to revel in the freedom she helped us gain."
Harry
stepped down from the podium and embraced
his
daughter. The crowd followed his lead to a banquet in the Great Hall,
during
which Severus had no opportunity to speak to Harry. There was a
constant stream
of people coming up to shake his hand or kiss his cheek. The luncheon
lasted through
dinnertime, when the guests at last began to leave.
Severus
was about to leave as well, but a
black-haired
bundle of energy landed in his lap before he could stand up. "Hello,
Saoirse," he said, trying to smile.
"Why
aren't you sitting with Da?"
"Your
father's a bit angry with me at the moment."
"He
said that after Mam, you were his best
friend."
"When
did he say that?" Severus was surprised.
"On
the train."
"Oh."
"So
why don’t you visit?"
So
difficult to answer such
simple questions! "I… your
father and I are both very busy."
"I
like you better than Auntie
Luna. Mam always said
she was funny in the head."
Severus
was about to reply when a
shadow fell over him and
he heard Harry's voice. "There you are, Saoirse. You shouldn't run off
like that. Now let's leave Professor Snape in peace so we can put you
to bed. We
have to get up very early tomorrow."
Severus
stood up and handed over
the child, forcing Harry to
meet his eyes. "She wasn't bothering me, really." Harry said nothing.
"You're leaving in the morning?"
Harry
just nodded, and started to
walk away.
"Harry.
Don’t walk away from me.
At least hear what I
have to say."
Cold
green eyes turned on him.
"Let's have it,
then."
"Not
here. Come up later. I'll be
waiting."
Severus turned on his heel and walked to his office.
He
sat at his desk with a glass
of whiskey, attempting to
catch up on some of his correspondence. But his hands wouldn't stop
trembling
with the anticipation of what he was going to say when Harry came. If he came. It was true, he hadn't known
of Harry's feelings for him. He'd seen evidence of them, but he'd
written it
off as wishful thinking on his part. Yes, he'd loved the green-eyed
Gryffindor
since his last year at Hogwarts. Maybe it was mere lust back then, but
as the
war began, it did become love. He and Harry had grown closer every day
those
first six months. They were constantly paired up for missions and
worked
instinctively well together. Then Brighid had arrived, and all had been
lost.
Severus had injured his leg, so much so that he was no longer any good
in the
field. So she had been paired with
Harry. And all had been lost. The night Harry had announced his
engagement,
Severus felt his heart ripped in two. But he wanted Harry to be happy.
Blind to
what was really on the man's face, he'd smiled and offered his
congratulations.
Which was where it had been left, until last night.
And
now he was prepared to
confess it all, at what was, in
all probability, the worse of all possible times to do so. He didn't
expect
that Harry would run into his arms, no. The man had just lost his wife,
for
Merlin's sake. He couldn't even expect that Harry might still love him
after
all this time. All he could ask for, as he had done so many years ago
in this
very office, was a second chance.
Severus
waited for two hours,
brooding and mulling over
things in his mind. At last, just when he was about to give up, he
heard the
telltale scraping of the stone staircase. Harry entered. He had quite
obviously
been crying.
"What
was it you wanted to say?"
Harry asked, his
voice trembling.
And
Severus spilled everything
from beginning to end.
When
he finished twenty minutes
later, Harry, who had been
motionless for the entire speech, came around behind the desk and
embraced him.
"Oh, Sev. I wish I'd known," he said into his hair.
Severus
pulled Harry down into
his lap and held him. Harry
put his arms around his neck and sobbed into his shoulder for an
eternity.
Finally, he whispered, "Don't cry, Harry."
Harry
lifted his head and
sniffled. "I'm sorry. It's
just that, well, we missed all these years because we were both stupid."
He
gently wiped the tears from
Harry's cheeks. "That
doesn't mean we can't get them back."
"I
know. But at the same time, I
can't offer you
anything right now. It wouldn't be right, and it wouldn't be fair to
Saoirse or
Colm or Brighid for me to have a new partner so soon. I had a long talk
with
Colm, though, and we came to an agreement. I'm going to move down to
Connemara
with Saoirse until she turns eleven, at which point she'll go to
Hogwarts and
I'll move back to London or Hogsmeade, or take the DADA position if
it's still
open."
Well,
this was certainly better
than Severus had hoped for.
But… "Six years? Are you telling me I'm not to see you for yet another
six
years?"
"I
didn't say anything about
that. Once every few
months, at the very least."
Harry
gave him a tentative kiss
goodbye and walked out the
door, promising to write.
* * *
2
August, 2003
Dear Severus,
Connemara is gorgeous. Well,
gorgeous if you like
bogs and rocks. I think it's lovely. Saoirse and I have moved into a
cottage a
little way down the road from Colm, and she'll be starting primary
school in a
few weeks. She seems happy. She's trying to teach me Irish, and failing
miserably as usual. I think I'm just too old to learn. I managed to get
to the
point where I could sing the national anthem at Quidditch matches, but
I don't
think I'll get much further. There's not much news, really. It's very
quiet
here. Colm is going to take Saoirse on the ferry to Inis Mór
tomorrow to show
her the house he grew up in. I'm going into town to try to get a few
more
things for the house. We didn't sell the house in Dublin, so most of our
furniture and things are
still there. You'll be thrilled to know that my daughter wants her new
room
decorated in Slytherin colours! I don't know what you did to her, but
you're
going to pay! Only joking. Anyway, I should go and get started cooking
dinner
before the lady of the house has my head. I miss you. Write soon.
Yours,
Harry
* * *
10 August 2003
Dear Harry,
I'm sorry to take so
long to respond to your letter. It's been absolute mayhem here these
past few
days. I've been interviewing five or six imbeciles a day for the DADA
position,
the house-elves are constantly popping in and getting up my arse about
something, and yesterday Draco bloody Malfoy showed up in my
office--with his
five-year-old child, no less!-- seeking asylum. Apparently some of
Lucius' old
friends aren't too pleased with him. I've set him and his son up with
rooms,
but I don't really know what I'm going to do with them. We haven't got
a proper
Potions professor, either, so I suppose Draco could teach that and I
could just
teach DADA myself. Draco is, perhaps, qualified for Offence With the Dark Arts, but certainly not Defence
Against. It's all such a headache. On top of that, Poppy is pestering
me about
her potions stores. Did I happen to mention that I never wanted to be
Headmaster? Must go. Poppy is screeching again. I miss you too.
Love,
Severus
*
*
*
20 August 2003
Dear Severus,
I hope you've not gone
round the twist yet, and that things are working out with the staff.
The house
is pretty much respectable-looking now, other than the silver and green
travesty that is the room across from mine! Saoirse keeps talking about
you. I
think you must have made quite an impression. If you can get away
before term
begins, we'd love to have you over for dinner some night. I promise my
cooking
is better than my potions. Let me know as soon as you can. Portkey
enclosed, as
I know how you hate Floo. Just press the button. It's good for a week.
Harry
H-
Will come day after
tomorrow. Looking forward to it.
-S.
* * *
There was quite a
ruckus in the Potter household. Saoirse
was practicing the piano, and Harry
was attempting to cook dinner, in between listening to the Puddlemere
match on
the WWN and Apparating back and forth to the market for forgotten
ingredients.
On top of that, he'd gotten two fire calls from Luna and one from
Hermione
asking what Saoirse wanted for her birthday. He began wishing that his
five-year-old knew how to cook so he could go lie down.
Dinner
managed to come together,
though, and Harry had just
enough time to spare to shower and change out of his food-splattered
clothes
and be standing in the living room in a fresh shirt and slacks when
Severus
materialised. Before Harry could even greet him, Saoirse screeched,
"Severus!" and practically catapulted off the piano bench to latch
herself onto the man.
To
Harry's relief, Severus just
laughed and kissed the top
of her head. "Saoirse, why don't you go and set the table so we can
eat,
love?" Harry said, prying his daughter off of his love interest. The
child
trotted into the kitchen to get the dishes.
"Hi,"
Harry said with a laugh.
"Hi,
yourself," Severus said,
brushing a kiss over
his cheek and squeezing his hand.
"Sev…"
Harry warned.
Snape
sighed. "I know, I know."
Dinner
was pleasant. Severus
complimented Harry's cooking
(accompanied by a jab about his potion-making skills) and they drank
glass
after glass of wine.
Saoirse
chattered about turning
six in two days and about
going to school. Suddenly, she got a quizzical look on her face and
addressed
her father. "Da, if we can't get a new Mam, can we get another Da?"
Harry
turned bright red and
nearly choked on his potatoes.
"We'll see, love," he said. Severus snickered and Harry glared at
him.
Saoirse
played the piano for them
after dinner and Harry
couldn't help beaming like a proud father over his child's talent. At
last the
pint-sized chatterbox fell asleep on the hearth rug and Harry put her
to bed.
He poured two more glasses of wine and rejoined Severus on the couch in
front
of the fire. "I'm glad you came," he said.
"I
am too."
The
two men stared silently into
the flames for a long
while, listening to the peat crackle. Harry wanted desperately to kiss
Severus
into oblivion, but settled for holding his hand and letting him stroke
his
hair.
After
a long time, Severus broke
the silence. "Harry,
I'm afraid I have to ask you a favour."
"What's
that?"
"Draco
Malfoy and his son. They
need protection.
Hogwarts is too obvious. If there were anyone else I'd never ask you,
but---"
Harry
cut him off. "It's all
right. They're welcome
here as long as they need. The boy-- what's his name?"
"Christopher."
"Right.
Christopher can go to
school with Saoirse if
they get here by next week."
"I
was going to send them first
thing tomorrow. You'd
have to talk to Draco about the school, though. Isn't it all in Irish?"
"No,
it's bilingual. Many of the
children around here
are going to be just learning Irish for the first time. He wouldn't be
behind
at all."
"I'll
mention it."
"It
would be highly beneficial, I
think. There aren't
so many restrictions on underage magic here, as long as the child is
enrolled
in school and an adult is supervising."
Severus
nodded. "Thank you,
Harry."
They
sat, talking idly for an
hour or two more and enjoying
each other's warmth and proximity. Finally, Severus had to go back to
Hogwarts.
Harry stood up to see him off and was surprised to find his lips
instantly
captured in a soft, sweet kiss. He was shocked motionless for a moment,
but
then gave into sensation, moaning and curling his fingers into Severus'
hair.
They held each other tightly, lips and tongues exploring, until they
both came
to their senses and pulled away, breathless.
"Oh,
Merlin," Harry murmured.
"I'm
sorry. I didn't mean for
that to happen."
"Don't
be sorry," said Harry,
still reeling from
the kiss. "Just… know that we can't take it beyond that for a while."
Severus
nodded. "Well, Saoirse
did seem pretty keen on
getting another father," he said with a smirk.
Harry
rolled his eyes. "Of all
the things that have
come out of that child's mouth. She'll probably think Malfoy's a
birthday
present."
"Just
as long as you don't."
"Oh,
please." Harry planted a
much more chaste
kiss on his lips and swatted him on the bum. "Off with you. I'll see
you
in the morning." Severus Apparated away.
Harry
went to bed, dreaming about
the kiss and worrying
about what on earth he was going to do with a house full of Malfoys.
And yes,
two Malfoys did, in his opinion, qualify as a house full.
The
next morning, Harry got his
daughter up early and
explained the situation. She fortunately understood, and agreed to be
particularly nice to Christopher. Then she asked to go round Colm's and
help
him feed the goats.
Left
to his own devices for a
while, Harry began making
breakfast (for six, just in case) and singing along with his David
Bowie record
at the top of his lungs. Until, that is, he saw two extremely amused
Slytherins
and a small boy in his kitchen doorway. He blushed and turned off the
music. He
shook hands with Malfoy and was introduced to Christopher, who
immediately
smiled and gave him a kiss.
"Where's
Saoirse?" Severus asked.
"I should
have been mauled by now."
Harry
laughed. "She's just gone
round her
grandfather's. I'll call them. Help yourselves to breakfast if you
like, I made
plenty."
When
Harry returned from the
living room, his three guests
were seated at the kitchen table, eating happily. "They'll be round
directly," Harry said, fixing himself a plate.
Once
everyone was present and
introduced and fed, Harry and
Severus went outside to set wards for the Malfoys' protection. "I don't
think you'll need these," Severus said. "I don't think these people
are serious enough to risk crossing international boundaries. But I
wanted
Draco and Christopher out of harm's way until they're caught. Which
should be
soon."
They
returned to find Saoirse and
Christopher gone and Draco
and Colm talking about Quidditch. "Where'd the kids go?" Harry asked.
"Yours
wanted to show mine her
Chocolate Frog
cards," Draco said, rolling his eyes.
"Ah,
yes," Harry said. "She has
them all, you
know."
"Well,
at least we don't have to
worry about them being
like the previous generation of Potters and Malfoys," Severus said
pointedly.
Colm
took his leave, saying he
needed to finish up with the
goats. Severus stuck around for a second cup of tea and gave them
emergency
instructions, then left as well. And so it came to be that Draco Malfoy
and
Harry Potter were alone together at the latter's kitchen table, picking
at
their rashers and staring into their teacups.
"Look,
Potter--" Draco began.
"Please
call me Harry."
"Harry.
I know saying things like
this isn't really in
the Malfoy vocabulary, but… well, you're saving my arse, and my son's.
And
thank you."
Harry
smiled. "You're welcome.
And as long as you're
here, I want you to treat this as your home too, understood?"
They
went on to discuss the
subject of school, which Draco
seemed to think was a good idea. Harry showed him the guest room and
gave him
the tour of the house. "I figured Christopher could either sleep with
you,
or in Saoirse's room if they get on."
"They
seem to be," Draco said,
poking his head in
the doorway of the little girl's bedroom, where she was pointing out
things in
a picture book and apparently giving Christopher an Irish lesson. Draco
smirked. "Nice décor."
Harry
sighed. "Her idea, not
mine. She seems to be
destined for Slytherin, though."
"Odd,
that," Draco said. "With a
Gryffindor
for a father and a might-as-well-be-Hufflepuff for a mum."
"You
know I'm part Slytherin."
"It's
still strange." He clapped
a hand over his
mouth. "Oh, bugger, Harry, your wife! I'd forgotten! I'm sorry!"
"For
what, mentioning her?"
"Well,
I thought maybe it was too
soon…"
Harry
shook his head. "Don't
worry. It's fine. Saoirse
doesn't even want a new mum, she's hell-bent on having Severus for her
new
dad."
Draco
spluttered and laughed in
an extremely un-Malfoy
manner. "I'm sorry, it's just-- well, you know!"
"Yes,
I know. Imagine how Sev
felt when she said as
much in the middle of dinner!" Harry chuckled. "It's all right,
though, they adore one another, even though Severus won't admit it."
"Where'd
you come up Saoirse for
a name, anyway?'
"It
means freedom. It seemed
appropriate. What happened
with you and Pansy?"
Draco
snorted. "She was an evil
bitch, for one. For
two, she left me for Blaise Zabini."
"I'm
sorry."
"Don't
be. She was horrible to
Christopher. Fortunately
he doesn't remember it since he was so young."
"How
can anyone not love their
own child?"
"It
helps if one's not capable of
feeling in the first
place." Draco grimaced. "Arranged marriages are cruel and unusual
punishment in my opinion."
Harry
helped Draco unpack and
they talked most of the
morning, through cleaning the breakfast dishes and through cooking
lunch. The
children ate with them but scurried off immediately back to whatever
they'd
been doing, and the two men continued talking, through a few games of
chess and
the Daily Prophet crossword. By the
time they had cooked and eaten dinner and the children had gone to bed,
they
were both growing hoarse, but they kept talking, through several
glasses of Cognac
and the chocolate that Draco had brought, until they were both sleepy
and tipsy
and stumbled off to their respective beds.
(tbc)
©2004 Deirdre Riordan
and Stella
Revolution
Email comments to
deirdre.riordan @ gmail . com (remove spaces)
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