A/N: "Hufflepuff's are particularly good finders." Snort. That's not mine either. But it always makes me laugh. Put it in your search engine.
Chapter 6 – Quidditch
The weather began to cool into the pleasant season of fall. The trees in the Forbidden Forest and the surrounding areas were starting to turn colors, making the grounds look like something from a golden fairytale, in Lia's eyes at least. She mused over this thought to Severus over breakfast one day, after which he rolled his eyes and refused to speak to her for the rest of the meal.
Poppy was teaching her to handle minor ailments now, so that when a student came to their wing with a headache, menstrual cramps, or a small cut, she was able to treat them with minimal supervision and a final check off.
Wizarding medicine is not too entirely different, she thought with a little sarcasm, remembering what one of the Healer's at St. Mungo's told her when she toured the facility during the summer. She treated a student with large cut on her hand with a few drops of dittany, watching it seal itself shut in seconds after in the drops the student's skin. The student, a third year Hufflepuff as clumsy as Lia, thanked her and left to continue her day.
Here, a potion actually would cure most problems, instead of treating the symptoms. Lia was amazed the day she saw a student that she was 99% sure had a ruptured appendix be cured with a goblet of "Fix Internal" potion, followed by a few days of bedrest.
She went to the waiting room and looked for the next patient.
"Neville, oh bless your heart, not again. Let's get you fixed up," she said, as the Herbology professor followed her into the hospital wing, while gingerly holding his left hand.
Lia was steadily getting to know her House children (as she thought of them). Severus often told her that she was too soft with their proud group, but this comment was never said with condemnation. It was as though he was glad that she offered a gentle hand to them.
One of the things that Lia had learned from her conversations with the students who came to her with their needs, was that many of their households were broken either by death from the war or the loss of a relative to Azkaban - the Wizard prison in the North Sea. She thought that she could perhaps count on two hands the number of families not effected by the war in her House. Because of this, if she heard a little voice calling to her from the portrait, whether it be at two in the afternoon or the two that was well past curfew, she never refused a student the solace, or the baked goods, she had to offer. Even cloaks bearing the crest of lions (though they were too proud admit it), ravens (though they were too smart to mention it), and badgers (though they were too loyal to their Heads to confirm it) could be seen whipping out of her office in the hospital, or out of the small office, decorated very tastefully in green and black, that Severus had to set up next to her rooms for such occasions.
"Just what we need in this school, another swot," Ron said over breakfast, while Hermione and Lia were in deep discussion over the usefulness of knowing the complex history of the early goblin wars – both women in favor of knowing it for the sake of the knowledge itself. The statement earned Ron a smack on the arm from Hermione and a confused look from Lia.
She looked at Hermione, puzzled. "Swot?" she asked.
"An insufferable know-it-all, Mrs. Stanfield," Severus said from behind his morning paper. "Incidentally, you and Professor Granger-Weasley are two of the biggest swots I have ever met."
"Oh, is that all? Thanks for the compliment, Professor," she said and smiled, as she turned to engage Hermione to continue the discussion. They either couldn't hear or didn't pay attention to both men groaning.
Lia knew they were correct, of course. She was studying every chance she got, getting ready for a mid-term practicum test in all her subjects. The Headmistress and Poppy had decided her time would be spent most wisely in the Hospital Wing, and in lieu of class an independent study method was used to help her gain ground in the areas needed to be a Healer – Potions, Charms, Transfiguration, Naturalism, Arithmancy, and Herbology. But practical testing of the material was a must, and would happen twice a term. Her first practical tests would take place later in the month - the week before Halloween, which Hermione busily explained was as special as Christmas to a practicing wizard or witch.
"I do hope you like the taste of pumpkin," Hermione said, while wriggling her nose.
"I grew up in America, Hermione. Surely our fascination with pumpkin pie around Thanksgiving has reached this side of the ocean?"
She could have sworn she heard Hermione gag a little in response.
"The first Quidditch game is this Saturday," said Ron. "Gryffindor versus Slytherin. Too bad you have to support the wrong House, but I guess we'll forgive you for it."
Lia looked at him and grinned. "You are just upset that Slytherin has won the Quidditch Cup the last three years," she teased.
Oliver, who was sitting next to Ron and was listening in on the conversation intently, quipped, "He's more upset about losing the last three years of the teacher's pool."
"Is there nothing the teachers don't bet on?" Lia wondered out loud, remembering her first day at the school.
"Nope," said Hermione, Oliver, Ron, and Severus in unison. Lia tried without success to stifle a giggle.
"You are coming?" asked Oliver after Ron elbowed him in the ribs. "I'd love to see you there."
"Of course she is," replied Severus irritably, snapping his copy of the Daily Prophet shut. "Where else would we be when our team is playing, Mr. Wood?"
Lia glanced at Severus, confused about his sudden change in mood.
"Yes, Oliver, I will be there," she said quietly. "But I warn you, I will be in my green scarf and cheering for my kids."
"Oh, I wouldn't want it any other way," Oliver said, grinning at her widely. "Would you be my guest? I'll be out on the field making sure those hooligans don't kill each other during the game of course, but I'd love to take you out for a date in Hogsmeade afterwards."
Lia didn't know what to say. She flushed furiously and looked at her hands sitting in her lap.
"She'd love to go, wouldn't you Lia?" Hermione piped in, reaching for her friend's hand and squeezing it.
Lia took a deep breath and smiled shyly, "I'd love to go to dinner with you, Oliver."
"Brilliant," said flying instructor, as he got up from the table. He walked behind her on his way out of the Great Hall, and pressed a chaste kiss to the top of her head as he walked away.
"It'll be good for you," Hermione whispered to Lia. "Oliver's a good man."
"I heard that," complained Ron, before he pressed a kiss to Hermione's cheek before leaving to return to the joke shop.
"So are you," Hermione said, smiling. "They broke the mold on you, dear."
"Yes, they did," he agreed as he left.
"So sensitive," Hermione whispered when Ron was out of ear shot.
"Hermione?" Lia said shakily, so nervous she was petrified to her seat.
"Shhhhh," the witch whispered to her softly, before wrapping her in her arms, "I promise it will be ok."
Lia took a deep breath, eyes shiny with unshed tears. She took a sip of her tea and tried to calm down. It wasn't until then that she registered Severus's absence from the seat next to her.
"Where did Severus go?" she asked Hermione. "I didn't see him leave."
"I guess he went to class early," said Hermione with an oddly non-committal shrug.
Severus didn't come to her rooms to walk with her to dinner that night, Lia realized as she looked up at the clock on her mantle and realized it was six forty-five. She had been writing an essay on Charms theory in healing and had lost track of time. She quickly washed the ink from her hands and walked out of her portrait hole. She looked down both sides of the hall, looking for him, before she decided that she was on her own.
She walked to the Great Hall alone, and was saw him at the Head Table, her usual place next to him still empty. Hermione and Ron were not present. It was Mrs. Molly Weasley's birthday, and they had taken a port-key to the Burrow to celebrate. She walked past the Slytherin table and patted the odd student on the back.
"Good evening Professor Snape," Lia said as she sat down at the Head Table next to him.
"You are late," Severus said coldly, not looking at her. "Pre-occupied?"
"Studying. Got out of the hospital wing a little late today, too. Something called a Bludger got one of the Ravenclaw Chasers during Quidditch practice. Got to treat my first broken bone - here, at least," she tried to say as cheerfully as possible, but faltered when she saw his cold, blank eyes looking through her.
She frowned down into her food. They ate in silence for most of the meal, until she couldn't stand it anymore.
"Have I done something wrong?" Lia whispered, unable to tolerate it any longer. "Please tell me, and I'll fix it. I don't want you to going back to disliking me." She tried to keep her face as calm as possible as she was aware of some of the older children watching them, but her trembling voice conveyed what she refused to let her body show.
Snape sighed, "No, Mrs. Stanfield, you have done nothing wrong." He rubbed the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger. "I just realized miscalculated something today that I thought I had figured the trajectory of correctly, and I've been trying to figure out how to fix it all afternoon. I guess I've been a little pre-occupied myself." He gave her a very faint smile in apology.
"Thank goodness," Lia said. "I can't bear the thought of you being angry with me, Severus. You and Hermione mean the world to me."
Severus smiled again, but Lia noticed that it didn't reach his eyes.
"Quidditch," Lia said to herself in the mirror the day of the game.
"And a date," said Hermione behind her, laughing.
Lia bit her lip and looked herself over again. As it was mid-October and the weather hadn't turned completely cold yet, she'd had more options in her wardrobe over what to wear to the game, and consequently to dinner afterwards. She examined herself in jeans and an emerald green sweater in the mirror. Hermione had talked to her Muggle clothes since she was not on duty for the game.
"I feel underdressed," Lia said, as she hadn't worn pants since her arrival to the school in August.
"You look fine," said Hermione. "Actually, you look great. I'd kill to have your figure."
"What, all butt, boobs, and chubby cheeks like a toddler?" Lia groaned.
"Hourglass!" cried out the very petite Hermione. "You have the figure of a pin-up model from the 40s – it's fabulous!"
"Oh, bloody hell," Lia said, as she sat down on the edge of her tub and put her head between her legs. "Please tell Oliver I'm sick and can't make it. I can't do this, Hermione," she moaned, her voice muffled.
"You can do this. Dating is like … riding a bike. You don't forget," said Hermione sat down next to her on the edge of the tub.
"And when was your last date as a single person, again?" the muffled voice inquired.
She patted Lia's back and sighed.
"I'm not taking off my wedding ring," Lia said quietly, lifting her head.
"You don't have to," Hermione said. "Oliver has seen it enough, he knows you can't part with it."
"You talk about me?" she asked, confused.
Hermione smiled. "Let's just say after he asked you out he had some general questions for advice that he wanted to ask me, and while I was not too specific, I tried to gear him in the right direction. Are you mad at me?"
"Of course not, Hermione," she said. "How long has he wanted to ask me out?"
"Since you first got here, apparently, but he was having trouble asking you since you tend to have your nose in a book or are talking to me or Severus at meals."
"I am a little wrapped up in the two of you, aren't I," Lia said, looking down at her hands, twisting her wedding ring around on her finger.
"We are wrapped up in you too, my dear. In fact I don't think I've ever seen Severus engage in much genuine conversation with anyone, other than you. He seems very fond of you."
"And I of him," Lia said, smiling.
Hermione looked at Lia, very closely while the red haired witch was goofily smiling and lost in thought.
"Can you give me two minutes?"
"Sure, Lia," Hermione said as she left the room. "But any longer and I'll start checking for wards."
Alone, Lia contemplated sticking her finger down her throat and pretending to be sick. She had only been on a handful of dates since Sam died. She had buried herself into work and never looked up long enough to notice anyone. Or, apparently, notice that anyone had noticed her.
She took a deep steadying breath, and walked out of the bathroom door.
"Ready?" asked Hermione, grabbing her robes and red and gold scarf.
"Ready," said Lia. She almost sounded confident.
The two women walked to the Quidditch field from the castle. Hermione gave Lia a most basic brush-up on the game when she realized that the girl still didn't know a Quaffle from a Keeper. Lia had tried to read Quidditch through the Ages the previous night, but quickly lost interest and abandoned it for her Herbology textbook, which in her opinion needed more of her attention.
"I think I got it," she told Hermione before her head started to spin. "But, I may just watch my kids and mimic their reactions to the game."
"Just don't encourage them to fight dirty while I'm watching," grumbled Hermione.
"Slytherins don't 'fight dirty'," Lia said, pretending to be affronted.
Hermione looked at her skeptically. "Really?"
Lia giggled in response.
They climbed the tall bleachers until they reached the teacher's box. Ron was at the far corner sitting next to the score board, ready to tally up points. He was also keeping an eye on the second year Hufflepuff, Kieran Thomas, who would be doing the play by play commentary for the game.
Lia saw Severus in the front row and tugged on Hermione's arm so they could join him.
"Good afternoon ladies," he greeted them.
"Hello, Severus," said Hermione, as she pulled out an ancient looking pair of Omnioculars and started scanning the field.
"Hello, Severus," said Lia as she patted his arm. She pulled a small bundle out of the pocket of her robes and handed it to him.
"What do we have here?" he asked her as he pulled open the paper slowly.
"My mother's recipe for snickerdoodles," Lia said, passing a similar bundle to Hermione, who took it without taking her eyes off the field.
Severus took one of the small cookies out of its wrappings and took a bite. "That's delicious," he said. "My compliments."
Lia beamed, then noticed he had a small cookie crumb on his left cheek, close to his lip.
"You have a little bit of – ", she started, motioning with her hand, brushing her own cheek.
"Oh," he said, brushing his cheek but missing it with each attempt.
"Here, let me," said Lia, lifting her hand to his cheek and brushing the little bit of cookie off with her thumb. She looked into his eyes, and again saw something flicker in them. He lifted his own hand to hers, lightly touching her wrist with his fingers. Then he flinched as if he'd been burned, and pulled his head back so suddenly it almost threw both of them off balance.
Neither of them noticed Hermione watch the exchange with interest, before her eyes went back to the field.
"Hey, guys," Oliver called cheerily as he flew over the where they sat. He was looking rather menacing in black referee robes, but rode his Firebolt 3 with the grace of a ballroom dancer.
"Oliver," said Hermione.
"Good afternoon, Amelia."
"Hello, Oliver," she said, trying not to stammer.
"Do you like pub food? I thought about taking you to that new place that opened up across the way from the joke shop," Oliver said, flying closer to her and leaning in to take her hand in his.
"Sounds great," she said.
Oliver smiled and kissed her hand.
"Mr. Wood? Don't you have a game to start, or do you want to continue slobbering over poor Mrs. Stanfield's hand?" Snape said irritably.
Oliver looked at the hourglass. "Right," he said, winking at Lia before flying away.
"Severus," said Hermione, watching him attempt to pass Lia a handkerchief while a giggling Lia shooed it away. She shook her head at the exchange, but continued to watch the two out of the corner of her eye.
The game lasted two hours. Two very enjoyable hours, thought Lia, as they climbed down from the bleachers after it was all over. The final score was 350 to 210 – the win decisive to Slytherin. She'd hugged Severus with joy when the Seeker grabbed the Snitch and won the game for the team, pleased that he didn't flinch away, though he made no attempt to hug her back.
She and Severus took their winnings from the teacher's pool – a handsome 5 Galleons apiece. Hermione, Ron, and Neville parted ways with them, sulking with their students back to the dorm.
"Good luck tonight," Hermione mouthed to her, over the tops of the student's heads.
The children were ecstatic, at least the ones from the Slytherin House. Even faces that she had not seen lit with any kind of genuine happy emotion since the start of school were glowing with pride and with the good sun and wind on their faces. She and Severus both made way to their team, congratulating them on an impressive win.
"I know there will be a party in the dungeons tonight," Severus said in mock severity. "And well earned. Just try to keep it to a tolerable level of noise."
"We'll try," quipped the Slytherin Seeker, a tall blond 5th year girl named Violetta. "But no promises, sir."
Severus smirked and dismissed them.
"Well, Mrs. Stanfield, I will take my leave then. Good day," he said with a bow, and turned to walk back to the caste.
"Severus?" she called after him, and he turned back to her, a questioning look on his face.
"I …" she started, but stopped Oliver walked up behind her and laced one of his hands into hers.
She quickly looked back at Oliver and smiled, and by the time she'd turned back to Severus he had already gone.
"Are you ready?" Oliver asked her as he squeezed her hand in his.
"No," she said softly. She studied his confused expression. "I can't do this, Oliver. I thought I could, but I just can't."
"Is it him?" he asked her, not hiding the venom in his words.
She bit her lip, unsure how to answer, or even of who the "him" was.
"You can't mourn him forever, Lia. And I can't compete with a dead man." Oliver said before he stormed off to the field house.
Crestfallen, she walked away from the Quidditch fields. She wandered around the grounds for what seemed like house in her mind, but when she looked at the clock tower when she came back through the courtyards, she was still in time for dinner. But, not wanting to face Hermione or Oliver, she went to her rooms.
While she had been walking, she'd been able to avoid thinking about anything other than the beauty of the school grounds around her. Now that she had returned to her rooms, all she could think about was what was keeping her from being with Oliver. As much as she desperately craved companionship, she was torn between the memory of her husband, and her burgeoning feelings for Severus. Any thoughts of a man other than her husband had always made her feel wrong, as though she were betraying his memory. But, thought of Severus somehow always made her feel so calm. Even when he was a sarcastic, crass jerk.
Ignoring the thought of supper, she decided to study for her upcoming practical exams. She sighed when she opened her Transfiguration textbook, glad that something was more complicated than her odd state of emotions.
"You have a guest, Mrs. Stanfield," the Farmer announced several hours later.
"Is it a student?" Lia asked as she cleared her lap of the textbooks and scrolls of parchment that had collected while she was studying Transfiguration.
"No, it's Mr. Wood."
She stood, a little too quickly, knocking over the foot high stack of notes on her coffee table.
"Dammit," she sighed as the parchments scattered around her sitting room haphazardly. "Sorry, please let him in."
The Farmer nodded and walked out of the interior frame as the entrance swung open. Oliver peered in around it.
"Lia, can I talk to you?" he asked her nervously.
"If you can help me sort papers, you can talk all night," she sighed as she started picking up the mess around her. He nodded, and stepped inside.
They collected the notes in silence. She thanked Merlin that she color coded the ink in all of her notes according to subject, so at least there was some way to at least begin to organize the mess.
"Lia," he started and he began to stack the parchments accordingly, "I want to apologize for leaving like I did before."
"There's no need to apologize, Oliver, I understand," she said as she made her own stacks. She looked up and saw that he was watching her closely. "I should not have said yes, truth be told."
"Can I ask you something?"
"If you want an answer it –"
"Depends on what I ask. I know," he said, laughing. "Lia, I do want to know something. Did you not want to say yes because of your husband, or because of someone else?"
She looked away and busied herself making order of the stacks.
"Lia?"
Oliver put a hand over hers and stopped her. That simple, tender gesture made her burst into tears.
He moved the mess of parchments away from her reach, and sat down next to her on her sofa. Putting an arm around her, he held her close to him and let her cry out her frustration and her grief.
"Now I'm sorry," she said. She found a handkerchief under one of her books and tried to dry her eyes.
"It is someone else, isn't it?" he said softly. She watched him finger the intricately entwined S's on her handkerchief.
She nodded.
"Then we're a pair, wanting people who don't want us back," he said unhappily. He stood and walked to her door. When it swung open, he walked through and didn't look back.
Lia fought down any tears that threatened to return. Oliver was not the man for her and she refused to let his words affect her. She walked to the bathroom and focused on having her mind clear by the time she reached her sink. She washed her face in cool water, watching the red, swollen look from her recent tears slowly leave her face. Just as she was satisfied that her face was back to normal, she heard the Farmer announcing another visitor.
"Lia, are you back?" said Severus through the still open door.
"Yes, I'm here Severus," she said after taking a deep breath, and walked back out and into her sitting room. "Have our little demons destroyed the dungeons?"
He cleared his throat again and glanced sideways at her, "I honestly haven't checked. I tend to leave them to their own devices on game days."
She smirked. "Well, let's go check on them," she said. She followed him out into the hallway
"If you insist," he said. Lia saw that his eyes looked a little bloodshot, and his hands were shaking slightly.
"Severus, are you okay?" she asked. She tried to put a hand to his forehead to see if he was ill, but he backed away from her and turned away.
"Right as the rain," he said, as he starting walking towards the common room.
"Are you sure? You don't look right. Do you want me to run a diagnostic charm?" She took out her wand and started murmuring the words.
"Leave it alone, Lia," he said curtly. "It's nothing that can't be fixed."
They reached portrait that guarded the common room. Lisa could hear rowdy music, chanting, yelling, and occasional hex being thrown through the wall.
"Then tell me, Severus, let me help fix it. That's what I'm supposed to do. I don't want you to be unwell if I can do something about it. Please let me help."
She watched Severus take a deep breath before he opened his mouth, and knew that she was in trouble. "If being an unwanted, bloody … nuisance is what you are supposed to do, you are doing a damn good job at it. I don't require … or want any help from you," he said coldly.
She unwisely reached for his hand, and he pulled his whole body back and hissed, "Get away from me, you idiotic, senseless bitch!"
She jerked back as though he'd hit her, and then with all her might she slapped him across his left cheek.
"Fine," she said, choking back tears. "I'll go right now. You deal with this fucking mess yourself." She clasped a hand to her mouth, shocked with her own language and behavior as much as she was with him. She turned and ran back to her rooms.
Severus could hear her sobs carry through the halls after she left. He watched her beautiful hair ripple behind her with every step, her shoulders sagging, and faintly heard a voice thick with tears speak to her portrait. Then there was nothing, except for the slight smell of her that floated around like a ghost whenever she left the room.
He bypassed the common room, at this point not caring if the brats destroyed the entire damn castle. He went to his rooms and warded them even more carefully than usual. He opened a large bottle of Firewhisky that Potter had given him for Christmas last year. When one glass didn't dull his thoughts, he had a second. Then a third. Before he knew it half the bottle was gone, but the dull ache in his chest was still there, just as present as the pain in his cheek.
Severus tried to stand, but sank down on his knees instead. And for the first time in many years, he buried his face in his hands in shame.
