All's Fair; Chapter Nine
Summary: Somehow surviving the last battle hasn't changed Severus Snape one bit. Now, seven years later, can the arrival of a new Charms teacher with a gift for smoothing over rough edges break down the walls he's built around his heart? SS/OC.
Disclaimer: I own nothing except the storyline and Danielle Prince.
Warning: This chapter rated K+
Word Count: 3363
9: Power of Speech
It didn't take much persuasion to get Cameron to want to come with me for the half term holiday, and only a little more to get Minerva's permission. So that's what I was going to do. It sounded crazy, even in my head. I'd been at my new job for little more than two months and already I was taking a student home. How I was going to explain it to my family, I didn't know. And then there was my pregnancy, I had to tell them about that too.
As for Severus, well. We didn't talk to each other, but we weren't avoiding each other either. And on the last Friday of term when there was only the two of us in the teacher's lounge, we sat in easy, companionable silence. I noticed, as well, that the student population seemed easier around him – they did still all act as though he was about to blow up at any minute, but it was as if the explosion was a possibility, rather than a definite. The rumours surrounding us were never ending, but the only one that came close to the truth (that Severus and I were having an abusive, lust-filled affair) was immediately dismissed. I was in the staffroom when Neville told Severus and me that particular story. Minerva and Poppy, the only ones who knew the truth, watched our reactions closely.
'Oh yes,' I'd said. 'We're very much in love!' I giggled and blew a kiss to Severus. He'd merely raised his eyebrows at me, his expression completely deadpan. Neville had laughed out loud at this and probably would have teased us further if the bell hadn't rung just then and called us to our lessons.
On Friday evening I was packing my bags for the holiday when I heard a smart tap from the portrait hole door.
'Yeap, come in!' I called, dumping a pile of clothes in my bag before going to see who had come in. I was pleasantly surprised to find Severus, standing there, wine bottle in hand.
'Drinks?' he asked.
At that I laughed, remembering what had happened the last time he had offered me alcohol. 'Sorry, Sev. Pregnancy rule number three: thou must not drink alcohol.'
'Three?' he asked, an eyebrow creeping slowly up his forehead.
I giggled. 'Right after drugs and smoking,' I said, trying to talk sagely, but failing miserably.
He nodded in speculative amusement and I waved at the sofa, but he didn't sit down. 'I just came to give you this and wish you a good holiday,' he said.
'Thanks,' I replied with a grin, taking the bottle he offered to me. I turned from him momentarily to put the bottle in the alcohol cabinet. When I turned back Severus was a lot closer to me – not even a foot away. I took a gasp at the air as he placed a flat palm across my still-flat belly whilst looking me directly in the eyes.
'Take care of yourself and Cameron and… our baby.' From his hesitation I realised that this situation was as new and strange to him as it was for me, and whilst I had quickly come to accept it he was not so quick with the emotional bounce back. As I looked into those deep, almost mournful, obsidian eyes I wondered to myself what had happened to him that he was so lonely. For that was something he did not even try to hide.
His hand slipped down to grip mine and he made as if to kiss me, but seemed to think better of it and turned away from me and streaked from the room faster than lightning. I wanted to call out to him; to let him know that he could kiss me – please would he kiss me – that, even if it was only me, I was not afraid of him.
I stared a long time at the space he had vacated and my hands moved first to my belly where his hand had touched me so tenderly, and then moved to my face, grazing my lips longingly, wishing it was he that was touching my lips and caressing my face. It was only then that I realised that he had put a slip of paper in my hand. I unfolded it and read the distinctive, flowing writing;
If you ever need to reach me, use the floo and say; 'Spinner's End,'
I managed to stumble over to my armchair before I collapsed. Severus had been through so much and had had to deal with so much over the past couple of weeks – and it was all because of me. But, touched and surprised as I was, I still needed to be ready to leave early tomorrow. I hauled myself up and continued packing, though my mind insistently stayed dwelling on Severus. Later, when I fell asleep, Severus was in the peripheral visions of my dreams and, as much as I searched for him, I could never get a proper look.
The next morning broke cold and clean. I met Cameron in the Entrance Hall as we had agreed and we set off down to Hogsmeade where I would Apparate us to my home. Cameron had only brought a small bag and silently I wondered if that had been her choice or if that was simply all the casual clothes she had. Out loud I asked; 'Are you sure you have everything?'
Cameron nodded. 'Yes. What about you? You don't have any bags.'
I pulled my Reducio-d bags from my pocket and chuckled at Cameron's wonderment. 'Magic comes in handy once in a while,' I said cheerfully.
'Am I allowed to do magic whilst I'm away?' Cameron asked me.
'Sorry, Cameron, but you're not considered old enough to control your magic and you'll be outside school grounds.' I winked at her. 'You can still go flying, though.'
The girl blushed and bit her lip. 'I can't – I don't – ' she stuttered. 'I can't fly,' she finally said in an embarrassed whisper.
My grin never faded as I assured her that I would teach her as well as I could. Cameron giggled at this and said that rumour had it I could teach anyone anything.
'Anything?'
'Anything!' she repeated, laughing.
As we crossed out of the school grounds I could sense the life of the magical barrier and I turned immediately to the eleven year old. 'We can Apparate from here, unless there was anything you wanted from Hogsmeade first?'
Cameron frantically shook her head, and although I wanted to press the matter, I decided that now was neither the time nor the place.
'OK then, have you got hold of everything?' I asked, taking tight hold of her hand. She nodded and I twisted us into the familiar, unpleasant sensation of Apparating. 'Still all here?' I said upon our arrival, confident that I hadn't splinched anything.
But Cameron didn't answer, she was too busy staring at the little cottage I called home. We were standing in the front garden – in one of the flowerbeds to be exact – and before us was the two-up-two-down house that was as throttled by ivy as ever. Well, it had been a two-up-two-down until the handy little accessory of magic had created an extra two rooms. Realising I still had hold of her hand I tugged Cameron towards my home, casting the charm to unlock the door. I showed her into the tiny but, I thought, cosy living room, the kitchen/dining room on the other side and one of the extra rooms which housed the bathroom. Cameron took every inch in with wide, disbelieving eyes.
'Would you like to see your room?' I enquired of her, nudging her shoulder.
'Yes,' she breathed.
I followed her up the stairs where there were two doors, one of which had two door knobs.
'Which do I open?' she asked me, frowning.
'The, um, right handle on the left-hand door,' I said from behind her.
She opened it and we stepped into the small, rosy guest bedroom. Its walls were covered in bookshelves with a wardrobe and a table. The rest of the space was taken up by a double bed which looked a little silly in the tiny room. Cameron shot me a questioning look and I shrugged, telling her most of my family members and friends were either married or attached.
'My room is across from here and if you open the other handle of this door you'll end up in my study,' I told her. 'Now, do you want to get settled in while I make some breakfast?'
Cameron agreed to this so I dumped my bags in my room before heading down into the kitchen. I'd brought some bacon and Janie had been bringing the hens' eggs in so I started up the cooker and chucked them on. I leant against the work surface and looked across the room. I closed my eyes and breathed in deeply, a smile curving across my mouth. It was good to be home. Cameron and I had a whole week to look forward to. Cameron came down the stairs and peeked nervously around the corner. I gestured to one of the chairs and gave both her and myself a large helping of fried eggs and bacon.
'What do you want to do this morning?' I asked her. 'I have to go and stock up on food supplies and then let my brother and mum know I'm back for the week. You can come with me or I could drop you off in town and you can explore for a bit. Or you could stay here and borrow some of my books, whatever you like.'
I think perhaps I gave her a little too much choice since she seemed a little overwhelmed for a moment.
'Do you mind – can I come with you?' she said eventually.
'No probs. Just warning you that it might be a bit boring and my family is a bit – eh – eccentric,' I apologised in advance.
'Can't be worse than mine,' she muttered, so low that I don't think she meant for me to hear. So I pretended not to. 'That's fine,' she said louder.
I smiled, trying not to show the sharp concern I felt. 'Well, if you're sure…' I winked. 'Actually, that's not a bad idea. I have no idea what sort of things you like to eat.'
She shrugged, but smiled, the momentary cynicism forgotten.
In the end we had quite a lot of fun. We went to one of the large supermarkets and got the basic; flour, milk etc. Then we started guessing what the other wanted – starting off with the safe things like pizza and chocolate, but by the end choosing things like vanilla sal and some kind of pink, cod roe mush that declared itself to be 'taramasalata'. The trolley, when we finally headed to the tills, was piled high with enough food to feed an army for a month, let along the two of us for a week.
'We're never going to eat all this!' Cameron giggled, echoing my thoughts.
I laughed along with her. 'No, but what we don't eat I can give to my brother, who can give it to Sheila.'
'Sheila? Who's Sheila?'
'Oh, you'll see,' I said with an amused smirk, not saying anymore although Cameron asked.
We packed the bags into the tiny boot of my old-school mini, which had been a marvel to Cameron when she first saw it, hidden behind the house. Then, since Cameron had decided to come with me and there was no rush, we walked about the town. Cameron had clearly never been to an entirely Muggle village before and was fascinated by everything she saw. I didn't have the heart to tell her that half the people she saw were, in fact, witches or wizards. Ever since Voldemort became a threat 20 to 30 years ago the town council had decided to revert to Muggle ways so we could be left alone. On the whole the plan had worked and the people who lived here either preferred the Muggle ways or, arguably, were simply too lazy to turn it back.
We went into the butchers for some 'proper' steak and I couldn't help but laugh at the look of fascinated horror on Cameron's face as the butcher carved the meat up for us. We went into the bookshop and came out half an hour later with several books each. Cameron had protested, but I had told her she was my guest, and besides, if I read them too it didn't count. Next we headed into a film and music shop. Try as I might I couldn't explain to Cameron how CDs worked, or what a movie was. So, when she pointed out DVD title and said, 'Hey, I've read that!' I bought it and said we could watch it that night.
Then we went clothes shopping. Well. Browsing. I didn't need new clothes – except, perhaps, a new set of robes, but I wouldn't get those in a Muggle shop – and Cameron refused to let me pay and didn't have money of her own. But that didn't stop us trying things on. After a matching, hideous set of canary-yellow frilly dresses we decided to call it a day and have some lunch.
A couple of sandwiches and chocolate fudge sundaes later – a little indulgence – I decided it was time to face the family bomb. Unlike my family, I lived only a couple of miles outside town, so we took all of the shopping home first. I offered Cameron the chance to stay again, but it seemed the girl did not want to be left alone which I didn't blame her for. So we piled back into my little tomato-red mini and set off to face the explosion. The entire time I debated with myself as to whether or not I should tell Cameron first and who I should tell my family the father was. They probably deserved the truth, but what would they think of me?
After a fairly long journey spent discussing the pros and cons of Muggle villages I pulled into the driveway of the large country home that had supposedly housed my family for hundreds of generations but had, in all likelihood, been bought by my grandfather. I told Cameron this, but she seemed more interested in the house itself than its history. I explained to her that most of the garden design and a large quantity of the indoor décor had been done by my family decorating business when she asked when it was dated. She seemed oddly disappointed by my answer.
'I like old things,' she said simply when I asked.
I didn't bother knocking, but went straight in and was nearly bowled over by the old English sheepdog that pounced on me as soon as she could. Cameron gave a shriek as the dog licked at my face which looked, I knew, a lot like she was eating me.
'Down, girl,' I said, shoving her away from me. 'Claude! Janie!' I called out before turning to Cameron. 'It's alright,' I assured her. 'Cameron, meet Sheila. Sheila is my brother's dog.'
Cameron's eyes widened in surprise as she realised the significance of what I'd said about the spare food and gave a snort of laughter.
'Dog?' a female voice said from the corridor. 'More like the love of his life.'
'Hey, Janie,' I greeted, hugging her and giving her a kiss on the cheek.
'I swear Claude spends longer fussing over the dog than he does me,' Janie complained good-naturedly, returning my greeting.
'Sheila says 'thanks' more often,' my brother said from behind her, getting a playful elbow in the ribs. 'Hey sis.' He stepped forward and grasped me in a rib-breaking hug and kissed my forehead.
'Miss me?' I teased.
'A little. How's the new job going for you? And who's this?' he asked, nodding towards Cameron.
'Claude, meet Cameron Black. Cameron, meet my little brother, self-proclaimed genius and door-knob polisher, Claude. And his wife, cook-extraordinaire, Janie.' I made the introductions.
Claude shook hands with Cameron and stage whispered, 'Ignore her. I am a genius, but I run the family business now. I let the little people do the door-knobs.'
'You run the family business?' I asked incredulously. 'Since when? Did mum suddenly keel over and die or something?' For as long as I could remember my mum ran things. Whether it was the house, the business or making dinner, mum was in control. My dad just used to pretend for visitors.
Janie rolled her eyes. 'Do you want to come in to the kitchen for some tea and talk about it there?'
I nodded and hauled Sheila out of the way so we could shut the door. The four of us walked a short distance down the corridor and turned into the large, friendly kitchen. Claude, Cameron and myself sat on the bar stools at the island in the middle of the room as Janie fussed around us.
'Need help, love?' my brother asked.
Janie shook her head. 'No. Just you tell Danni about the business.'
I was genuinely worried by this point and asked flat out what had happened.
'Mum,' Claude told me gravely, 'gave me control of the business so she could start a… uh… online gallery.'
'Online? As in a Muggle computer over the internet?' I asked incredulously.
'Yes,' Claude and Janie said at the same moment and we, all three of us, burst into laughter. The thought of my mother, strict, tidy, old-fashioned Marie, working on a Muggle device was just too funny. Cameron seemed a little baffled by this and I doubted if she knew what 'computer' and 'internet' were.
A while later, after the tea had been consumed and the plate of warm biscuits Janie had produced from somewhere had been finished; Janie asked Cameron if she wanted to take Sheila for a walk. 'Let those two catch up on family stuff,' she said, winking. Cameron, who had quickly overcome her wariness of the huge softy, had agreed enthusiastically.
'So,' Claude said once they were gone. 'Why is she here? Presumably this isn't an 'out-of-kindness' thing.'
It didn't take me long to tell my brother Cameron's story. After all, I knew very little about her.
'They won't tell you her mother's name? But – why you? Why not this Severus person, or the headmistress?'
'Severus is slightly…' I paused, searching for the right word, 'daunting. And Minerva is a Gryffindor. Being Slytherin, Cameron isn't going to trust her until this ridiculous prejudice between the houses is overcome. I don't think they'd have asked me except Cameron seems to trust me.' As I said this I remembered sharply the first lesson we'd had and Cameron's tortured face and her scream when I'd asked her to pull out her wand. 'Just like them,' she'd said. I think, now, I was starting to understand.
'I still think they should tell you everything,' Claude said frowning. 'They can't expect you to trust them if they don't trust you.'
'I don't know, Claude. I think they do trust me. I just think they expect me to react differently around Cameron if I knew who her criminal mother is.'
'Would you?'
'No. I don't think so anyway,' I replied seriously. 'You aren't defined by who your parents are. Look at Nana for example.' Our father's mother had, since about 35 years old, suffered from bouts of blind madness during which she would have committed any number or crimes – including murder – were it not for the intervention of her husband.
'That's different,' Claude blurted defensively. No one knew the cause of her madness and it was a matter debated fiercely within our family.
'Is it?' I asked, suddenly tired of this. I didn't want to revive the same old argument that had no resolution. 'There's something else as well,' I said.
'More?' he exasperated.
I nodded and took a deep breathe, deciding to take the plunge and get this over and done with as soon as I could. 'I'm pregnant.'
Written: Unknown
Chances of continuation: nil
Feel free to use this piece of writing for whatever the hell you want, so long as you credit me (either this account or my main one - Calistabelle) and let me know what you do with it.
Much love,
Cal
