These characters and this entire Potterverse are the property of the incomparable JKR.
Chapter 2
Thou are not lovelier than lilacs, -- no,
Nor honeysuckle; thou are not more fair
Than small white single poppies, -- I can bear
Thy beauty; though I bend before thee, though
From left to right, not knowing where to go,
I turn my troubled eyes, nor here nor there
Find any refuge from thee, yet I swear
So has it been with mist, -- with moonlight so.
Like him who day by day unto his draught
Of delicate poison adds him one drop more
Till he may drink unharmed the death of ten
Even so, inured to beauty, who have quaffed
Each hour more deeply than the hour before,
I drink – and live – what has destroyed some men.
Edna St. Vincent Millay
Snape prowled the floors of the thrice-damned Black house until he discovered a room he could convert to his own use. He needed a place where he could gather his thoughts, see to his correspondence and article writing, get some reading done, and escape from the excess estrogen saturating the air. The "Noble and Most Ancient" House of Black housed a library which none of the Order of the Phoenix members had ever cared to risk decontaminating. Snape cast the necessary diagnostic spells on the room, and then went through the books, shelf by shelf, until he had disarmed the chamber. The volumes which could not be disarmed, he placed into a stout wooden cupboard in the corner of the room, then warded the doors so that no one but he could open them. Once the library had been sufficiently incapacitated, he requested the house-elves to give it an extra-thorough cleaning.
Dobby and Winky were house-elves who had been employed in the kitchens at Hogwarts; they were brought to number twelve, Grimmauld Place by Dumbledore to assist Kreacher with the housekeeping. It did not take Dobby and Winky long to take the measure of Kreacher, and they soon took to behaving as if he were not even present, much less the ranking servant of the house. Between the two of them, they had the library shiny and sweet-smelling in less than a day. Snape could not have been more relieved to have space of his own into which he could retire to obtain some measure of peace.
Conforming to Minerva McGonagall’s express wishes, the household was run as if the inhabitants of the house were a family, meeting three times a day for meals, with each of the young witches keeping the house parents informed of her whereabouts and her plans at all times. In Snape’s opinion, the whole ordeal was far more trouble than being Head of Slytherin House had ever been. Never before had he been called upon to play such a parental role amongst his charges!
Snape had experienced savage joy at the downfall of Voldemort, in late 1997. Potter, flanked by an army of Order members, had faced down the Dark Lord and his minions on the grounds of the Riddle estate. The battle had raged for three days, with more casualties falling each successive day. The Ministry had proved all but useless; the red tape and endless committee meetings had prevented the Aurors who were not members of the Order and the members of the Magical Law Enforcement Squad from joining the battle until the last day. Admittedly, it was this last wave of warriors that had overborne the army of Death Eaters, giants, Inferi, werewolves, and dementors who fought on the side of the Dark Lord; yet Snape could not but be aware that if they had been with the Order members from the beginning of the battle, the lives of many might have been spared. It was only in his most dismal moments that Snape permitted himself to enumerate the people he knew who had fallen at the Final Battle; it did not bear thinking of.
Ultimately, the upshot of the death toll was the Family Preservation and Marriage Law Act of 1998.
“All witches and wizards who have both attained their majority and have left school are required to marry within six months of the last of these milestones. Those who fail to do so will have their partners chosen for them by the Office of Lifelong Relationships, and will have six weeks to comply with the Law from the date of their notification of the identity of their Ideal Life Partner.”
The deadline for the first wave of marriages was January 1, 1999.
Snape closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose, willing away the headache threatening him with an uncomfortable afternoon. Immediately after lunch, he had a meeting with McGonagall and Lupin to review the current standing of the young Order members currently affected by the Law, and to determine what course, if any, needed to be pursued upon their behalf. Glaring at the list on the desk before him, he crossed off Bones, Susan, as well as Johnson, Angelina. Both of these young women had announced betrothals in the week since his meeting with Dumbledore and McGonagall. Reading on, he grimaced over one name on the list.
Tonks, Nymphadora.
Oh, for the love of MERLIN.
Striding to the door, he threw it open, stuck his head into the corridor, and bellowed, “Minerva!”
Professor McGonagall appeared at the top of the stairs. “Severus! How dare you shriek at me!”
Snape closed his eyes and controlled his temper. “I apologize, Minerva. Please join me for a moment.”
McGonagall swept into the room with a sideways glare at her former pupil, and seated herself in the room’s least comfortable chair, raising a haughty eyebrow at him.
Snape closed the door and resumed his place behind the desk. “May I offer you refreshment?” he inquired politely.
There was an infinitesimal lessening of the artic chill emanating from the Transfiguration professor.
“Nothing for me, thank you,” she replied.
Taking a calming breath, Snape inquired, “Why is Nymphadora Tonks on this list?”
McGonagall surveyed him as if he were not quite bright. “Because she is an unmarried Order member, living in this house, whose age falls in the appropriate range, Severus.”
“I am quite certain that Albus told me an offer had been made for her.”
McGonagall shifted in her chair, redistributing her skirts about her feet. “Well, an inquiry was made, really.”
“She was betrothed to Remus Lupin a month ago,” he snapped.
“Remus spoke to Albus about it, Severus, and Albus spoke to Tonks, and she was quite interested...”
Snape rolled his eyes, knowing he would loathe the rest of this story, and twirled his finger impatiently, asking McGonagall to get on with it.
“...but then Remus became violently ill with the wolf pox, and had to be isolated from everyone. We actually had to move him to the hospital wing at Hogwarts, for Poppy to see to him! And then Tonks had an assignment from the Auror office, and she was away for a week -- and when she came back, there were a number of social engagements she had accepted ...”
Now Snape’s eyes were narrowed as he listened to this recital. “And did she find someone to attend these gatherings with her?” he inquired quietly.
McGonagall was relieved that Snape seemed to understand the situation. “Yes! Well, Remus was sick, and Sirius is his very best friend -- as a favour to Remus, you know, Sirius escorted her instead!”
Snape was quiet for so long that McGonagall finally said, “Was that all, Severus? I have some letters to write, before we sit down to lunch.”
Snape looked at her with oddly empty eyes. “Yes, thank you, Minerva. We can discuss the rest of it in our meeting, after lunch.”
McGonagall bustled out of the room, thankful to have been spared a Snape-on-the-subject-of-Sirius-Black diatribe.
Snape sat staring at the door, feeling the headache begin to work on him in earnest. In his mind’s eye, he clearly saw the field of battle, as the Order members struggled to clear the cadre of Death Eaters from the courtyard of Riddle Manor. A contingent of dementors had attacked them from behind, freezing the air with their eerie presence. Lupin and Potter were fighting a fierce defensive action, repelling the dementors as swiftly as possible with their respective Patroni. When the last of the dementors had been driven off, Potter circled to the left of the frontline, while Lupin circled to the right, and they joined the small number of Order members who had fought through to the sides, and who were drawing up on the dueling Death Eaters from behind. Lupin joined Bill Weasley and Varen Vector, while Potter advanced with Ted Tonks and Mad-Eye Moody.
Snape was with Voldemort in an upper room, watching the battle from the windows. Voldemort had called for Wormtail to come to him, and was roaring for Lucius Malfoy and Rosier to attend to him. Snape, his back to the Dark Lord, palmed his wand and directed the occasional surreptitious crippling hex at his fellow Death Eaters, doing what he could to follow Dumbledore’s First Imperative: to protect Potter from his own foolhardy courage.
Soon enough, Voldemort summoned Snape to his council, as he and Malfoy laid out fevered battle plans. When Voldemort turned from them to hurl the Cruciatus Curse at a cowering Wormtail, Snape caught Malfoy’s eye, and nodded once.
“Severus, deliver this message to Dolohov,” Lucius ordered him imperiously, handing him the parchment with Voldemort’s new orders scrawled upon it.
“If my Master commands me,” he said to Lucius in his most pettish voice.
Voldemort looked up from his occupation with Wormtail. “Please do as you are bid, Severus.”
Snape bowed deeply to Voldemort and snatched the parchment from Lucius’s hand, swirling out of the room in his Death Eater robes.
He entered onto the courtyard just in time to see Dolohov fall by the hand of Ronald Weasley. The Death Eaters remaining on their feet were in full retreat, Disapparating in large numbers. Under the cover of the portico, Snape hastened to the fallen Order members, casting swift diagnostic spells and administering what quick healing he could without betraying himself to unfriendly eyes.
He spied booted feet extruding from the hedge beyond the drive and he went to investigate. On the ground he found Ted Tonks, ripped from hip to shoulder, apparently the victim of a Sectumsempra Spell. Snape knew him to be Nymphadora Tonks' father; he was a Muggle-born wizard who had married into the Black family and who joined his Auror daughter to fight on the side of the Light. Cautiously, Snape knelt beside Ted Tonks; it was obvious that he was beyond aid. The older wizard gripped Snape’s robes in his fist and began to speak.
“Watch out for my girl,” he gasped.
Snape regarded him with horror; he had never even spoken to this man before -- why would he make such a request?
“I know who you are -- Sirius told me --” Ted Tonks stopped to cough, choking on his own blood. “You’re the spy...”
Snape cast frantic looks to the perimeter, wondering if he would have to finish the man off himself to keep his secret safe for just a few more hours.
“You have to promise me,” Ted Tonks insisted, his fingers displaying preternatural strength as they gripped Snape’s robes.
Snape made a vain attempt to twitch his robes from the dying man’s clasp, only to have Ted Tonks release his robes and grasp his wrist.
“Promise me,” he demanded.
Snape stared down at the man, consternation warring with enforced detachment, and tried to imagine loving someone enough to be thinking of nothing else at the moment of death.
Then, Ted Tonks convulsed and died.
“Severus?”
Snape’s eyes flew open as he was startled out of his morbid reminiscences. Standing in the doorway of the library was his youngest half-sister, Stormy, a winsome child of eight. Her wide blue eyes and corn silk hair were the image of her mother’s. Snape wondered, for the thousandth time, what his father had ever seen in Sophronia Prewett; she was a silly woman, if a beautiful one, and scarcely older than Snape himself. Just look at the absurd names she had chosen for her three children: Skye, Shadow, and Stormy. What had his father been about when the girls were christened as if they were puppies in a litter, rather than Snape children?
The little girl slipped into the room and approached him fearlessly, crawling into his lap and putting her skinny little arms about his neck, completely unaware of Snape’s instinctive distaste.
Snape placed one large hand on the child’s back, allowing her a moment to cling. At last, he spoke to her, in a calm, quiet voice. “Did something upset you, Stormy?”
The nod caused the fine, silky hair to fall into her face; save for the colour, Snape and his youngest half-sibling had identical hair.
“Tell me,” he invited her.
“That horrid Kreacher was messing about in my things,” she whispered.
“I’m sorry to hear that. I’ll make sure he doesn’t do so again.”
Stormy looked into the ebony eyes that had been frightening children older than she for longer than she had been alive, and pressed a kiss on his angular cheek. “Thank you, Severus,” she piped, climbing back down and taking his hand. “Come to luncheon now; Mummy sent me to find you.”
Snape allowed his sister to tug him out of the room and down the stairs, reflecting that she, in the space of a single day, with no assistance, could ruin the carefully crafted reputation he had spent twenty years cultivating.
After lunch, Snape joined McGonagall and Lupin in the first floor study.
“Severus, we usually meet once a week to review the status of each of the young people,” McGonagall said, by way of beginning.
“It helps us to compare notes, at times, because another point of view might show us some detail we had missed,” Lupin commented, opening a leather folder and pulling out several pieces of parchment.
Snape produced his own list. “It would be useful for me if you will give me a summary of each of the -- what are we calling them? Not students anymore, obviously, nor children.”
Lupin shrugged. “I keep forgetting, and calling them girls and boys. They are young adults, or young people, according to the Ministry.”
Snape slanted a nasty look at Lupin. "When are we to wish you happy, Lupin? Have you chosen your partner? Or will you leave it up to the Office of Last Resort?"
Snape was gratified by the look of pain that flashed across the other wizard's face. Lupin was ever the diplomat, though; he forced a neutral expression onto his face, and said, "I have been remiss, Severus. Of course, I wish you happy with Miss Delacour."
Snape picked up his list and hunched an unfriendly shoulder at Lupin. "Am I correct in saying that we have six young witches and five young wizards left to dispose of?"
McGonagall picked up her quill. "Dispose of? Severus, please spare us your sense of humour," she reprimanded. "Among the girls, we still have Katie Bell, Cho Chang, Luna Lovegood, Alicia Spinnet, Nymphadora Tonks, and Ginny Weasley.”
Lupin consulted his list. “The boys remaining are Seamus Finnegan, Neville Longbottom, Draco Malfoy, Harry Potter, and Ronald Weasley.”
McGonagall sighed. “I’m sorry to say that none of the young women seem close to accepting an offer.”
Snape glanced up at Lupin as McGonagall said this. Lupin kept his eyes on his list. Snape’s evil genius prompted him to say, “As we were discussing earlier today, Minerva, I understood that Nymphadora Tonks was on her way to betrothed over a month ago.”
If Lupin was aware of Snape’s look of disgust, he gave no sign of it, jotting notes on the parchment before him. “I offered for her,” he said without looking up. “The details haven’t been decided on.”
Snape opened his mouth to deliver another jibe, but McGonagall caught his eye and he decided to let it go; there would be plenty of time to torment Lupin, if he was to be incarcerated here for two full months -- no need to have all his fun on the first day.
McGonagall extracted a printed flyer from the desk drawer and smoothed it out in front of her.
“These are the Ministry functions for the month of July. We attempt to have the young people attend all of the functions, Severus, and at least one of us escorts them to each meeting. They are not required to attend all get-togethers, however, and usually there is at least one who stays behind. We also allow the girls to invite suitors to visit them here, and we attempt to have these visits chaperoned, even if more loosely. I am very thankful to have your stepmother here, as it will make another adult to chaperone the visits.”
Snape curled his lip at her. “Please do not refer to my father’s widow as my stepmother, Minerva. Call her Sophronia, as I do. She was only two classes ahead of me at Hogwarts, after all.”
“Hufflepuff, wasn’t she?” Lupin said deliberately, glancing up at Snape’s indignant face.
McGonagall observed this byplay with some amusement; she was glad to see that Remus was going to fight back, at least.
“Sophronia will be looking about her for a husband while she’s here,” Snape said, ignoring Lupin’s comment. “Widowhood does not excuse one from complying with the Law. She must marry by the deadline, as well.”
McGonagall sighed, and pushed the papers away from her. “We have only five more months to get them all situated, before it is quite taken out of our hands. These children are going to have to begin to take this entire matter more seriously -- don’t they understand that their whole lives are at stake?”
Lupin looked up sharply. “These children all joined the Order and fought against Voldemort, Minerva. I would say they each know something about putting their lives at stake.”
McGonagall reached across the desk and touched Lupin lightly on the hand. “Of course, Remus, you’re right. But do you get the impression that they see it all as some kind of game?”
Lupin gathered his papers in his battle-scarred hands and tapped them on the tabletop, aligning the edges. “They’re young, they’ve lived the last few years of their lives under enormous pressure, they’ve defeated the Dark Lord, and now they are being rushed into choosing partners, getting married, and beginning families. If they want to treat it like a game, they’ve damn well earned the right to do so.”
Snape watched this near-hormonal outburst from the werewolf, then folded his arms across his chest and leaned back in his chair, saying insolently, “Well, now that you’ve given your permission for them to lollygag about, Lupin, I’m sure the rest of us can relax.”
Lupin’s hold on his temper seemed to slip slightly. “Not all of us are willing to settle for loveless marriages of convenience, Severus,” he snarled. With a curious lack of grace, Lupin stood, nodded briefly to McGonagall, and left the study, allowing the heavy door to slam as he exited.
“Severus, can you not save your sniping for another time?” McGonagall demanded in exasperation.
Snape glared at her. “You asked me to come here, Minerva. You did not ask me to pretend to be someone else whilst I’m here. This is a serious business, and it seems to me that the children need to be brought to a sense of their duty in this matter.”
“These children have been brought up to believe that they would be able to marry from choice, for love, Severus. Their entire world has been upended. It seems to me that it is our duty to make this easier for them, rather than more difficult. Please demonstrate some patience.”
Snape stood abruptly, gathering his papers. “If you have no further pertinent information to impart, I have other things to do.”
McGonagall watched him shrewdly. “Why Fleur Delacour, Severus?” she asked softly.
Snape looked into her face, his expression suddenly forbidding. “Do me the courtesy of minding your own business, Minerva.”
He was at the door, his hand on the doorknob, when she said, “Don’t forget that Hermione Granger will be joining us soon. She isn’t sure which day she’ll arrive, but it will be this week.”
She heard dark muttering, but was only able to discern the words “damned inconvenient” and “make my day” before Snape slammed out of the room.
A/N: Never fear, Hermione joins us in the next chapter. Reviews are highly prized as feedback and encouragement; it is the closest the fan fiction author can come to instant gratification, about which I have this motto: