She stayed in a constant state of terror. By sheer luck, she'd landed a post at Hogwarts as a librarian, but this could be all for nothing. Eileen had flat-out lied on the application; when the first box got filled in with the wrong answer, she covered the rest of it up with something resembling the truth. Well, for all intents and purposes, really, she answered the other inquiries to the best of her ability. She had earned a certification at a Muggle school. Until very recently, she had worked diligently out of two sister libraries in Cokeworth. (Frankly, Cokeworth was lucky to have access to two public libraries.) Technically, according to the stupid people who sat on the city council, the other "sister library" belonged to the next town over.
That place was not her problem anymore. She'd gone through three separate interviews over the summer, one of them with Professor Dumbledore, newly appointed headmaster at Hogwarts, and he had actually laughed when Eileen said she held proficient skills with regards to a typewriter, a scanner and a card catalog. He'd kept her after the interview for an hour because he'd never heard of a microfiche. He'd been headmaster for five years, though Professor Dumbledore himself said it was relatively new. A week after this had happened, she'd received an offer and left home. Eileen would have taken anything to leave Spinner's End.
A fifteen year old boy, her son, Severus, had crafted her new identity, and this why she cringed at the chances of this scheme falling apart and going to hell. She was a smart woman, even without the education on paper, yet she lacked any street smarts. Eileen had literally walked out of her home with nothing but the clothes on her back and whatever she could carry in a rucksack. That place, she reminded herself as she sat at the High Table not touching her food, hadn't been her home since the first time she'd crossed the line with her husband.
They'd argued furiously, she and Tobias, and she had lost every single row, although Eileen had gotten the last word.
Eileen would be the first to admit she hadn't been the greatest mother. She hadn't been a drinker, nor a smoker, nor had she ever turned to other vices, yet she distanced herself from her boy as she retreated inside herself. In the early years, it really hadn't been like that. Funnily enough, he favored her, and this wasn't a good thing. Eileen hadn't ever been an attractive girl. When he was a small boy, she would read to him every night after getting him ready for bed. Her wand stayed hidden under his bed. Severus, a clever boy, had figured this out sooner than she'd expected. She had showed him small things, nothing really, though this kept him entertained.
When he was five and ran away for the first time, Eileen carried Severus home after briefly considering the idea to simply take the boy and disappear. The boy had taken her wand. Tobias, drunk and tired after pulling a double shift at the factory, took his anger out on her; thankfully, and to this day she didn't understand why, Tobias never touched his son. They'd started arguing about this or that, and Eileen snatched her wand from Severus when Tobias threatened the boy. With her powers sapped, she couldn't do anything, yet Tobias had the sense to let him go.
Tobias threw her down the stairs that night, and Eileen lost more than her wand that evening. She hid it in a book amongst the bookshelves in their small sitting room. Tobias enjoyed collecting volumes. Ironically, although if you walked into his house on Spinner's End you wouldn't know it, Tobias couldn't read too well; he was borderline illiterate. This had been Eileen sole advantage in their marriage. Stupidly, she'd said yes to the first man who had said he loved her, and Eileen would regret this mistake until her dying day, yet she loved her son.
Eileen watched Severus as she sipped her water. She went through the whole introduction spiel, though she regretted not touching the food when it disappeared. She'd asked Severus to treat her as a stranger, and he proved really adept at pulling this off. When Professor Dumbledore excused them all after the Welcome Feast, Eileen practically jumped out of her skin when the headmaster tapped her on the shoulder. She shrank back, a habit, and apologized for bumping into Professor Vector.
"Come with me, Madam Pince," he said. He didn't bother with offering her a hand.
Eileen hesitated, still unfamiliar with the alias, but she followed him nonetheless. She kept her head down. Could he tell everything she owned was new? Her account at Gringotts was under the name Eileen Prince, an initial oversight she'd thankfully never corrected. Ever since he had started at Hogwarts, Severus's magical education was her responsibility because Tobias had flat-out refused to spend a penny to watch his boy turn into some babbling magician. As Severus was older and stayed well away from his father nowadays, Eileen had worked the day shift at one library and acted as assistant director at the other one to make ends meet.
When they got to the headmaster's office, she felt ill. Professor Dumbledore gave the password, and she followed him inside, avoiding the stares from the previous heads on the walls. Professor Dumbledore sat behind his desk and waved his wand over its polished surface. A laden tray appeared there.
He studied her for a long moment. "You must be starving."
Eileen stared at her hands. She'd spent her first earnings, the money she'd received during summer downtime at the library, to purchase a one-bedroom studio flat. She had no idea how this arrangement was going to work over the summer months in future.
She shook her head, ignoring her growling stomach. Eileen finally stared pointedly at Professor Dumbledore when he poured her a cup of tea. "Please don't take this the wrong way, sir, but I don't need your help."
"Everybody needs help." Professor Dumbledore thanked a house-elf as he entered and offered Eileen a tray of sandwiches. She took one, a little scared, and set the tray on the desk after she took it from the house-elf. Professor Dumbledore smiled when she thanked the house-elf, too. The house-elf bowed low and left the office. "You always were kind to everyone, Eileen."
Eileen, taking a bite of the sandwich, set it back on the tray. Her eyes filled with tears. "You knew?"
Professor Dumbledore nodded, smiling at her politely. He was either going to let her down easy, or he was going to throw her out and give someone else his coveted position, or she was going to have to beg him for a second chance. She'd begged her husband all the time, so she was no stranger to this. Before she gave her case, however, he reached out for her hand and pushed up the sleeve of her black robes. There were yellowed bruises there. She winced at his touch, purely out of habit again because nothing really pained her, and said nothing for a long time. With nothing to do, Eileen picked up the sandwich and started eating it slowly.
"I'm not going to ask you to tell me anything," he said, letting her go and phrasing this carefully, "but I want you to know you are safe here. If you need anything, you need only ask."
"I don't ... Damn it." She got up and walked towards the door. She'd find something else. It might take a while, but Eileen had connections with Muggle libraries. The door was locked. Angry, she crossed her arms and turned to face him. "I can be fantastic at this. You don't understand. I need this job because I have absolutely nothing. I lied to you. I did, and I feel awful about it. My husband's a layabout ... and I just said that in front of the headmaster. Christ. I'm going now. Thank you."
"Eileen, the door's locked." Professor Dumbledore sat back, actually laughing at her. The smile reached his eyes, and he gestured at the empty chair. "It's not the anagram. You mentioned Vincent Christian Vance as a favorite author in the interview. Nobody knows him. Sit down."
It was a request, not an order, and she did, scared out of her mind. She patted her dark hair nervously and stared at her hands.
"Eat. You look dead on your feet." Professor Dumbledore waited.
Eileen filled a plate and unwrapped a thing of silverware. She had seconds. It got easier to talk with this man within minutes. She'd been eating at food shelters, and although she mentioned none of this, she suspected he knew she really had been getting by on precious little. Severus had stayed with his father because she needed time to set things in order. If he wanted to stay with his father over the summer, she wouldn't fight him over it. She had no right to tell Severus anything, for the boy had practically raised himself since he was a teenager.
As he had left her a vial of the Draught of Living Death, Eileen supposed Severus had forgiven her. They'd grown into strangers on Spinner's End. When she'd lost the child last year, Severus had somehow gotten his hands on a mild poison and slipped it into his father's soup. She'd watched him do it, shocked and amazed. Severus had handed her the laden tray, much like the one on Professor Dumbledore's desk at the moment, and headed up to his small bedroom like it was any other night.
"Your son is very talented," said Professor Dumbledore, pulling her out of her thoughts.
"I know," she said, smiling. Eileen took no credit for this whatsoever. Even when she had practiced magic regularly, she'd never been a powerful witch. She stopped, thinking, for she'd never said she'd had a son, either, yet they resembled each other a lot, so it was easy to see how the professor got here. "I let him read ahead in the schoolbooks."
Dumbledore smiled, pouring himself a cup of tea.
"Is that not allowed? I taught the boy to read when he was three." It never occurred to Eileen that she might've crossed some invisible line here.
"Not necessarily." Professor Dumbledore considered her question carefully before giving her an answer. He studied her carefully. "He's a fifth-year. He should be a fifth-year."
Eileen nodded, catching onto his meaning. Severus could get his hands on whatever books he wanted; he could learn whatever he wanted, but he needed to respect the rules. The curriculum stayed the same for good reason. She had attended university at three cheap colleges. Whatever came of those, for she preferred to cross the finish line, she understood a little about how this worked in schools. In the aged universities, some places respected the truth that the books and the texts never left the library.
Eileen got to her feet when he didn't say anything for a while. When she reached the door, the doorknob turned and it opened. Something bothered her. Biting her lower lip, she turned back to the headmaster. Professor Dumbledore hadn't dismissed her, though he had started shuffling through papers on his desk.
Her voice sounded small, and she tucked a loose strand of dark hair behind her ear. "Why me?"
"Why did I choose you? You know how to use a microfiche, madam." Professor Dumbledore's blue eyes twinkled, and she smiled at his joke. He shook his head, showing her a paper from his file. "I received a letter in the Muggle post from a man called George Tidwell, who thought you'd applied for a university position. I've never read a more glowing letter of recommendation. He thinks very highly of you. Good night, Madam Pince."
"George."
Eileen hadn't asked the library director for anything. Eileen and Severus had stayed with George and his family whenever she couldn't go home. Especially with Mr. Tidwell's five children and his wife, she'd worried about being a nuisance. She and Severus had shared a small bedroom; she'd slept on the floor and tried to pretend she wasn't there. George had never had a single word of complaint. Eileen cleared her throat, said good night, and headed towards the library. When she stepped into the library, her territory,Eileen headed towards her bedroom and slipped into her night things after taking a shower, She wandered back into the library, a book in her hand.
She got lost within the pages of the book. Eileen jumped when she felt someone approach and snapped her book shut. Hastily wiping her eyes with the sleeve of her dressing gown, she checked the time. It was nearly eleven. "It's late, Severus. And you have school tomorrow."
Eileen glanced over her shoulder. Sure enough, her son stood sulking in the shadows of the dimly lit library, but he was not alone. Surprised, Eileen got to her feet. This redhead girl was no stranger to her, and she'd been friends with Severus for years. Mr. Evans, her father, worked as a green grocer who ran three different shops. Lily held a lantern and waved with her other hand, her green eyes widened in surprise.
"Oh, my God, it is you." Lily stared at her.
"Lily," Severus warned her, pulling on the sleeve of her dressing gown. "Let's go."
"My dad thought he killed you," Lily said, yanking her arm out of Severus's grasp and sitting in a chair opposite Eileen.
"You ... you need to go. I don't care what you want." Eileen walked over to the wall behind the circulation desk and pressed her hand against it. A small bedroom appeared there. Her whole body shook in fear. "Please leave."
"I didn't mean anything by it," said Lily, glancing at Severus for help. He stood there, ready to step in whenever he thought he ought to. Personally, Eileen thought that moment stood somewhere between the Great Hall and when they had arrived here. "I'm sorry, Mrs. Snape."
"Lily." Severus walked over to the girl and placed his hand on her shoulder.
"Little girl." Eileen walked out of the bedroom, and the wall sealed itself behind her.
She made to reach for her wand, but Severus disarmed her easily. Magic, Eileen knew, or at least she hoped, would come back in time. She'd been sapped of her magical abilities for years. There were first-years who could probably best her in a duel, and they knew nothing. Eileen dropped to her knees and reached up to brush Lily's long hair out of her green eyes, giving her the smallest smile. When she saw tears in Lily's eyes, she got up and held her close.
"Listen to me. There are things ... there are things you shouldn't understand yet. You're a nice girl, and your father would kill me if he knew you knew. You're not ready. And I like your father's bread." Eileen gave a watery chuckle and shared a laugh with Lily. Mr. Evans went out of his way to give Eileen day old bread. Once, he'd even went as far as to ban Tobias from his shops, which meant the errand running fell onto her shoulders. It took years for Eileen to see this as a kind gesture. She let Lily go, wiping the girl's tears off her face. "You can't tell anyone."
"Anyone," Severus repeated, walking around to face her. Some fifteen-year-old kid wasn't going to put Lily in her place, especially not her best friend. Eileen honestly hadn't meant to make the girl cry. "You can't call her that, either. Promise?"
"What do I call you?" Lily recovered quickly, treading carefully.
"Eileen, if you want," she said slowly, hesitant, getting Lily some Kleenex and handing it over, "but only when it's the three of us, or you and me. Do not tell anyone except your father because he's probably worried sick about me, and you'll have a job hiding this from him. And Mr. Tidwell. Otherwise, you call me Madam Pince. Are we clear?"
"Yes, ma'am. Madam Pince." Lily got up and hugged her. Eileen, taken completely by surprise, patted her awkwardly on the back.
"Go to bed. Good night. Go on." Eileen released her and nodded to Severus. He didn't trust her, and she didn't blame him a bit, though she'd have to work on repairing that bridge. When they left, she went back into her bedroom with her book and enjoyed a good night's sleep for the first time in ages.
He pretended not to know her, and it took Eileen a good while to figure out why. The last thing anyone wanted at Hogwarts was their mother. Of course, Eileen hadn't been much of a mother to begin with. As this connection was not publicly known, neither Severus nor she were particularly bothered by it because they rarely crossed paths. Yet she couldn't ignore the fact that the boy got picked on. He really wasn't too friendly either. In fact, there were times when he was downright cruel, which bothered her because Severus reminded her of his father. She sat on the sidelines and let things happen.
Over the next year, she helped him wherever she could. This took place almost exclusively within the confines of the Hogwarts library. In Severus's sixth year, like everyone else in his year, he prepared to sit the first round of his N.E.W.T.'s. The library stayed open later during examinations, especially for the older students. When the doors closed at nine, he came in and sat at his table, third on the left.
Eileen lit a lantern and set a self-heating, self-cooling thermos on the table.
"What's wrong?" She set a notepad on the table.
"Nothing," said Severus, shrugging off her hand as he flipped through his copy of Advanced Potion Making. He pounded his fist on the table, frustrated, talking himself through the problem. "Why would that not make any sense?"
"What doesn't make sense?" She pulled up a chair, sat down next to him, and poured herself a cup of coffee. She took it black.
"I thought you didn't allow this near your precious books." Severus scribbled onto his scratch parchment, ignoring the notepad.
"Are you going to ruin any of my books, Severus?" Eileen poured herself some coffee and raised an eyebrow. If she had taught him anything, especially when she'd dragged him along to work, it was to respect books and texts. The library was her sanctuary. He said nothing and slumped back in the chair. When she touched his hair, he flinched a little. The potions practical examination took place the following day. She almost said she loved him; the words got lost in her throat. "You'll be fine."
Severus turned the page and pulled out his extensive notes, reading through them. Eileen read over his shoulder, reviewing the list of ingredients on a complicated potion. She stroked his greasy hair. Eileen mentioned she'd purchased some really good shampoo.
He turned and glared at her, annoyed. "I don't need help from someone who's practically a Squib, thank you very much."
"The ingredient you're missing?" She stood and pressed her lips to his head as she read over the hand-copied receipt. Why did he insist on writing in these books? She spent good money on these books every single year when Eileen could've easily bought things secondhand. "It's asphodel. Good night."
"Mother." Severus spoke up when Eileen reached her sleeping quarters and reached out to open the concealed wall. He hadn't called her that in years. Since she'd gained the post last year, he called her "madam" or "Madam Pince" like everyone else. He usually called her by her first name, and this was when he bothered having a conversation with her at all. He didn't look away from his textbook or his notes. "I'm sorry."
Eileen went into her bedroom and grabbed a light blanket before she came back into the library. When she sat down, she tapped the table and conjured a plate of leftover white chocolate chip biscuits. These were leftover from dinner hours ago. There was nothing to forgive. She'd been called worse, much worse by his father, and Tobias had foolishly considered those terms of endearment. She smiled when Severus dipped his quill in ink and corrected the ingredients list.
"You should've worked in an apothecary," he said, helping himself to a biscuit.
"I should've done a lot of things differently," said Eileen. She shook the blanket.
"Like me? I'm a mistake. He said that." Severus never spoke about his father unless it was in the third person; it added a little distance and gave him protection.
"Oh, Severus, no. Look at me. You are brilliant," said Eileen, reaching and holding his chin between two fingers, saying words she hated saying to her husband. This time she meant it. Tobias killed any meaning love once held for her. "I love you."
There was simply no denying it. Severus was so much stronger than she was. Even when Eileen had had full control of her powers, he would've reduced her to nothing. Sure, she was rather talented at Gobstones back in her day, yet this amounted to nothing. In school, her strengths had been History of Magic, Potions, and Transfiguration, not necessarily in that order. When she had practically surrendered her wand to act like a good wife, these sort of things had slipped away from her. She might have been sapped away of her powers and her strength. Nonetheless, Eileen was no Squib.
Severus didn't say he loved her. If he had, she would've been shocked. "Mr. Filch fancies you."
Eileen chocked on her coffee. He snickered, determinedly not looking at her again. She was appalled and surprised at the same time. Because she'd been so wrapped up in her work, Eileen wasn't really focused on anything else. Was this why the students were laughing at her behindher back? She glanced at her left hand; there was no wedding band there even though she had a sorry excuse for a husband waiting for her at Spinner's End. That's why the creepy caretaker always offered to walk her back to the library.
"Well, that's ..." Exactly what that was, she didn't know and couldn't put into words. She smacked Severus playfully in the back of the head when he snorted over his notes. "Don't encourage that rumor."
This was nonsense. She'd never shared anything closely resembling a conversation with Argus Finch. Eileen thought he was illiterate at one point, and she had felt sorry for him. She wasn't the kindest woman; he wasn't the kindest man. Students got bored here, despite the rumor mill running behind this place twenty-four, seven, and who wouldn't want to chuckle about the awkward, shut-in librarian and the creepy caretaker? What if he, the caretaker, encouraged these rumors? Filch probably wouldn't because he openly hated the students, yet he might believe there was something there.
She didn't want to disturb his studies over something as stupid as this, but she couldn't get distracted by a book, so she asked, "All right, when did this start?"
"Last year? Yeah. Yes." Severus corrected himself and dropped the informal tone. Eileen cleared her throat. A librarian wasn't on the same level as a professor, though Eileen held more power, than, say, the caretaker or the groundskeeper. When he didn't let his guard down in the library, even Severus had the sense to respect or at the very least acknowledge this. He waited. "You're strange."
"Why?"
"We don't have enough time in the world that conversation. But this? Because most people would be disgusted by that man, yet you act like it's nothing." Severus closed his books and collected his parchment rolls, finally calling it a night. Eileen simply looked at him. Severus shrugged, apparently giving up for the moment. This, she knew, would definitely come around again later. "Good night."
It was late, and Eileen understood he didn't want to talk about the girl. Lily would've pointed out asphodel in no time flat, which meant she would've made an ideal study partner. Last year, Severus had made the stupid mistake of calling Lily a Mudblood. When Lily had sought Eileen out, which Eileen herself had admitted hadn't been totally unexpected, she, Eileen, had apologized. Of course, Lily, a bright girl, had pointed out there was no way Severus could have picked up that insult from his father. Eileen, taken aback, had stared at her, speechless. Eileen had tried to talk to her son about this for months.
Eileen refilled her coffee cup. "You didn't have to go that far with that girl. That was your choice, Severus, so you will shoulder the consequences. That's on you."
Severus turned as though he might simply walk out of the library, slinging his schoolbag over his shoulder. He stopped at the door. "I didn't think ..."
"Obviously." Eileen looked him right in the eye, disappointment etched on her face. She liked Lily Evans because for the longest time, she'd been her son's only friend. These people, this new crowd he hung around with, they had changed him. Severus didn't see it. Severus frowned at her, annoyed, and stood his ground. She normally would've dropped it and retreated into her bedroom. He muttered something under his breath, thinking she didn't catch a lot of it, although she heard the important bits. Eileen threw up her hands in exasperation. "Yes, blame the mother! That's good. How long are we going to fall back on this failsafe excuse?"
"You called him that," Severus repeated, loud and clear.
"Answer me this. Since when is Lily Tobias? When has she ever said one unkind word to you? That girl ... you threw her away because you were angry at some boy." Severus muttered something that sounded like "Potter." Eileen approached him cautiously, pulling at his robes, pleading with him. Her voice broke. "James Potter doesn't matter. When you leave school, son, none of this will matter. Why can't you see that? You're acting like Tobias! Please, please don't be like him. You're better ... you're stronger than than him. Severus, you're a better man. This isn't you."
"You don't know me! Now you want to be a mother? Too late. Good night, Madam Pince."
Eileen stood there, her arms crossed, staring after her son as he left. What exactly was she supposed to say? Everything he had said was right. She couldn't play the mother now. For years, he'd seen her as this cowering woman who did the cleaning and the cooking. Essentially, when she'd come home after work, Eileen had acted as a house-elf who rarely had rarely spoken to him.
At the time, when she'd called Tobias a Mudblood or fired similar insults at him, Eileen had honestly meant nothing by her words. She needed to say something. Of course, her husband didn't know. It had been clear that her words were unkind, whatever he took him to mean.
Eileen sat back her armchair when she returned to her bedroom, a lit taper in her hand, and it slowly dawned on her she had cast the first stone.
Examination week, or rather, the weeks exams were held because they were split, drained pretty much everyone. If you were a fourth-year who wasn't having issues, you weren't trying hard enough. Honestly, Eileen only cared about the higher-ups. Severus kept returning to the library; he kept his distance. When he didn't show up on Thursday night to study for Charms, she kept the door unlocked anyway. It's not like she could sneak down to his dormitory and beg forgiveness. Again, she reminded herself, this just wasn't cool. Forget about when he left school. She'd scar him for life. She'd finished one book and started on another one. Eileen always fell asleep reading a book.
The door opened. It wasn't Severus, yet it was his redhead friend. Or maybe they weren't friends anymore. Lily stood her ground, her dressing gown open and sat down next to Eileen. They stared at each other, and Lily finally broke the silence after a few minutes.
"Why don't you have any other children?" Lily demanded, setting her candle on a table. Eileen, thinking this indeed a very personal question, simply stared at her. Where in the world was this coming from? Why did she care? Lily, seeing the shock on her face, backed up, explaining herself, losing her brash confidence. "My dad - he said poor families likes yours, they usually have a house full of kids ... and they don't usually ... go anywhere. I'm going to go. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, Madam Pince. Good night."
Regretting that she'd opened her mouth, for it was clearly written all over her face, Lily got up to leave. Eileen almost let her. "Sit."
Lily froze at the door. It took her a moment to sit back down, and Eileen conjured almond biscuits. Before the girl took one, Eileen remembered something about food allergies. "They're almond. You don't have a nut allergy, did you? I wouldn't want your father to come after me. They're my favorite. The almond ones."
Lily shook her head, taking one. "You're frightened of a grocer? These are from his shop."
Eileen smiled, tapping her wand on the table. A gift basket appeared there. Curious, Lily got up and checked it out. Eileen shrugged, telling her to help herself. There were biscuits, freshly baked bread, a small jar of cherries, and chocolate bars. Lily probably knew all of this come from her father's inventory. She took the already opened birthday card, checking with Eileen again to make sure she could read it, and smiled as she read it.
"'Eileen, you have not been forgotten, my lady, and you are still my favorite librarian. Thank you for forgiving all my late fines and holding all the good ones for me. George Tidwell shall never find another like you. Here's to hoping you are well. A very happy birthday to you. David.'" Lily laughed, tucking the letter safely back in place. "You hid books for my father? That's how Dad got to read all the best-sellers first?"
Eileen nodded. "No." She'd never reveal her secrets nor her sources. Lily, reaching into her schoolbag, snorted. She sat down beside Lily. "Your father is extraordinarily kind, Lily. Most people aren't like that. David Evans is a gift. And he's almost always right."
"About what?" Lily waited as Eileen drafted a letter and sealed it with a sharp of her wand. Lily took it cautiously when the librarian offered it to her.
"Send that to your father, please. I could send it to him, but he probably enjoys receiving letters from you. You're a good girl."
Eileen got lost in the girl's green eyes before she considered the poor families breeding like rabbits scenario. Poverty came with it. It was a cliché, or or might've been, yet it held a simple truth. Love, even physical love, made people feel better. She'd hated her husband, truly despised him, but there were nights when they had made love until they'd both passed out from exhaustion. How would the Evans family, especially David Evans, not have noticed?
"I was pregnant four times," she said, pleased she wasn't really lying to the girl. Eileen didn't tell her the whole truth and spared her the details. What was a delicate way to phrase this? Lily was older, maybe just a little older, but she'd asked the question. "Tobias isn't a nice man."
"That's an understatement," said Lily.
Eileen eyed her carefully, her tone even. "How much do you know? No. How much do you think you know, Lily?"
Lily tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear, biting her lower lip. Eileen waited, busied herself with making coffee, and returned with two large mugs. When Lily asked for sugar, Eileen went back and got some. She sat down again, and Lily took a sip.
"Wow. That's strong stuff." Lily held her mug in her hands.
"Former university student," said Eileen apologetically. On the plus side, if the girl planned on hitting the books, she'd been up all night. Eileen made it through school whilst working full-time and raising a kid on this brew. She wanted to be direct, not unkind. Since the girl had asked, Eileen decided on the spot not to sugarcoat this. If David Evans sent her an owl later, she'd deal with the consequences. "Do you know what a battered housewife is?"
Lily shook her head.
Eileen, explaining this badly, started from the beginning. "You said Mr. Evans thought I might be dead, child. Why is that?"
"You ... you know why. That man ... he uses you as his punchbag. He ..." Lily hid her face in her hands. Eileen wanted to hear her say it. Even though Lily might think she was ready, a sheltered, privileged girl enjoyed her protection. Lily paused, not saying anything for a while. Eileen, satisfied, thought the girl had realized she really didn't want to know the truth. Lily pointed a shaky finger at her after knocking over her coffee, and the stuff spilled onto the floor. "Oh, my God. A couple years ago, when I walked Severus home, you said you fell down the stairs! And my dad rushed over after closing up shop and hurried to get Mr. Tidwell. Mr. Tidwell carried you back upstairs. You didn't even cry."
"I didn't even realize you were there," said Eileen honestly, sipping her coffee. Lily asked how many times this happened. Eileen threw up three fingers, her expression blank. She cleared her throat, desperately wanting to get this out of the way. "Lily, whatever he's done or whatever he's said, Severus isn't Tobias. I never should've equated all Muggles to that man because I was wrong. George Tidwell saved my life countless times; he tried saving that last baby, and his wife agreed to take us in. Called it Sarah. Ever read Michael Branson? There's a Sarah there."
Lily smiled, shaking her head. "Mr. Tidwell and his books."
"Books allow you to look for the soul and the meaning. George told me that. I should've gone with him." Eileen stopped, momentarily lost in her memories. She sniffed, remembering this wasn't originally her point. She went back to it. "Lily, we all do things, we all say things we don't mean. Severus ..."
"Severus meant it," said Lily flatly, finishing her coffee and setting the empty mug on the table. "I understand you don't see people like that. And I appreciate it, Eileen, but he's not like you. You can't change him ... I've tried, all right? He's cruel. If he called Mr. Tidwell a ... that word whilst walking down the street, what would you do? Honest answer?"
"George? I'd purchase a bar of soap in the nearest shop, and we'd clear up that problem." Eileen nodded curtly, smiling slightly at Lily's look of indignation. Eileen, a simple, stupid housewife in Cokeworth, wouldn't have risked using magic. In truth, Severus probably would've fought her off. But nobody played with Severus Snape or George Tidwell in her mind.
Eileen reached over and patted the girl on the knee. She and Lily had never been close; Eileen wasn't close to many students in this place, though she considered adding Lily Evans to the list. Severus was Severus. He wasn't a monster like his father, yet he wasn't the greatest person to have as a friend. Severus had stayed resolutely, comfortably in the middle, and he'd turned a deaf eat to her pleas and stories. Eileen said good night to Lily and she wondered whether this girl could change her son's heart and make him see the light.