The Joy it Brings: Chapter 7
By Polexia Aphrodite
Rated: T
Thanks in advance to all reviewers!
Severus Snape served twelve years in Azkaban before he was paroled to little fanfare in the Wizarding world. After his release had been processed, he had walked out of the Ministry of Magic alone. He was not met by photographers, reporters, or an angry mob, as he had secretly suspected. Only a few hidden lines in the Daily Prophet indicated the fate of the traitorous spy who had once been so universally loathed and feared.
He had gotten Marianne's address from McGonagall, who had finally warmed to him after his long absence. She had even offered him an adjunct position. He had asked for time to think it over.
Severus raised his balled fist to Marianne Price's door. He knocked twice, the sound echoing in his ears.
The door opened, revealing Augustus Pye, his pale auburn hair streaked with grey. The now-aged Healer's jaw clenched slightly and something like dread touched his cerulean eyes. But he covered these betrayals of emotion almost instantaneously, pursing his lips together in a wan smile.
"Professor Snape," Augustus managed, "I read about your release. Congratulations."
Severus' expression bore his confusion plainly.
"Excuse me, perhaps I have the wrong address," he glanced at the folded paper in his hands on which McGonagall had scrawled the directions that had led him here, "I'm looking for Miss Price."
Augustus swallowed, nodded and stepped aside.
"Come in."
Severus was led through the modestly sized house. As he was led down a hall, the walls of which were lined with framed pictures of smiling and waving wizards and witches, he stopped involuntarily at the door to a cozily furnished parlor. A black-haired boy was sprawled on the floor; an oversize book filled with yellowing pages was open in front of him. The boy's head rose as he sensed Severus' presence. He looked up at him quizzically. After ten years of relived memories, Severus would have recognized the boy's hazel eyes and straight nose anywhere. He wished that he could have felt satisfaction that Marianne had settled into such a normal life, but his heart sank in spite of himself.
"Professor," Augustus' voice was sharp and beckoned Severus to a study at the end of the hall.
"Marianne should be here any minute," he said conversationally as Severus gingerly lowered himself into a plush armchair. The dank cold, stone floors, and solid mattresses of Azkaban had prematurely triggered an arthritis in his joints that would stay with him for the remainder of his life. Augustus continued, "She went back to work at Hogwarts, but she comes home for weekends."
Severus nodded numbly, noticing a glint of gold on the younger man's left hand and willing away the nausea the observation inspired.
Augustus left him then, on the pretext of some banal household chore.
Marianne would be the next person to cross the threshold of the tiny study.
Her once primly short and styled hair had grown long and she wore it down, letting a sheet of straight brown-blonde hair reach the center of her back. Her face was lined, but no more so than one would expect for a wizard in her forties. The magical blood that ran in both their veins not only lengthened their life spans, but had also mercifully slowed the visible signs of aging.
Severus stood as she entered. She didn't smile or cry or shout with joy when she saw him, but instead wrapped her arms around his neck and shoulders, clutching him to her silently. He could feel her trembling.
His hands rested on the small of her back, wanting to pull her tighter against him but made wary by the sight of Augustus leaning against the study's doorway.
"I was so afraid you'd be there forever," she whispered against his shoulder.
He smiled, "So was I."
She exhaled heavily and he could feel her relax against him. The thumb of one of her hands stroked the skin at the base of his neck and he braved sliding one hand up her back to touch her hair. Some residual vindictive impulse in him hoped that her husband saw.
Marianne pulled back, her hands ran across his shoulders to straighten his robes where her embrace had rumpled them.
"Sit, please," she commanded cheerily, gesturing at the chair behind him as she rested in a chair opposite it. She sent Augustus for tea and they were left alone.
Fearful that the time it took for the tea to be prepared would be the only time he would have alone with her, he furtively began with the most immediate line of questioning he could think of.
"You married him?"
"Yes," she self-consciously covered her left hand with her right.
"How long ago?"
"Eight years"
He snorted derisively, "Why on earth did you wait? You couldn't have married him the same day I was incarcerated?"
Her expression darkened, "I tried to–You gave me no reason to refuse him. You said—"
He raised a hand to stop her, knowing that she was right and that he was being irrational.
He stared at the floor, unable to look at her.
"The boy in the other room. He's your son?"
"Yes"
"What's his name?"
"Marcus," Marianne moved to the edge of her seat, her eyes were wide and imploring. "Severus-,"she began, but it was then that Augustus returned and the three of them were forced into fifteen minutes of stilted conversation.
At last, Severus excused himself. Marianne ushered him to the door, stepping out onto the house's stoop with him.
It was early spring, and the afternoon air was crisp. Marianne, without a coat, crossed her arms against the chill.
"Will you go back to Hogwarts?" she asked.
He nodded. From the moment that he had heard that Marianne had returned to Hogwarts, he had resolved to take McGonagall's offer, regardless of her new marital status. He would have her in his life at any cost to his own emotional well-being.
"I'll start again in the fall"
She licked her lips pensively, "That's when Marcus will start."
Azkaban had not dulled Severus' mind, and this new information made him snap to attention. "Marcus is eleven years old?"
Marianne's jaw dropped slightly, as though taken off guard. "He will be, in a few months." Her expression was indecipherable.
Severus' brow furrowed slightly, his head turned inquisitively. But he couldn't give voice to the question just then forming in his mind. It was unspeakable, unthinkable.
Marianne glanced at the almost-closed door behind her warily, then took Severus' hand, her mouth curved in a sad smile. Her fingers squeezed his. She lowered her face, her hair falling around her like a curtain.
"I'll see you at Hogwarts," she said, before disappearing into the house, leaving Severus alone in the cold.
