CHAPTER 27

Amelia leaned over Severus from one side, and Severus Jr. began to crawl onto his chest from the other – as they enjoyed what must have been the first, warm pre-spring afternoon outside in the gardens beyond the castle.

"We love daddy, don't we," Amelia said, glowing and the baby giggled a bit and began to crawl on top of him. Amelia leaned lower and kissed him softly, laughing and letting the warm sunshine wash through her entire body.

"Get off - the both of you," he groaned. "I'm trying to rest. I didn't invite you here."

She just laughed and the baby smiled and drooled. Snape winced distastefully and wiped his collar.

"He's cutting his first tooth," Amelia said softly. "I can't believe it. I think I'm going to cry."

"Please, Amelia, sometimes a tooth is just a tooth."

"It's a milestone, Severus."

"No, it's not."

"It's his first tooth. Then his first step. Then his first day in school. Then his first sweetheart…" Tears began to well in her eyes and drop onto his shirt.

He groaned and closed his eyes.

"I'm sorry," she conceded, laughing at her sentimentality and kissing him again. "The day's just getting to me. It's so sunny and warm. Oh Severus, the baby's hair is just your color. The sun really brings it out. It's just amazing."

"Unheard of, really," Snape said flatly, yawning and closing his eyes. "A baby having the same hair color as his father. We should call the Vatican. Perhaps it's some sort of miracle."

Amelia's face bloomed into joyful radiance. "Oh my God…you just admitted it. You just admitted you're his father."

"No, I didn't."

"Yes, you did."

"I'll deny it in court."

Amelia blushed, laughed and swung the baby into her arms, rocking him adoringly, humming and singing to him in her best voice, which never could carry a tune, but seemed to please Severus Jr. just fine. Even Snape smiled for an instant.

What a perfect day. The birds were chirping, the brook was trickling around the rocks, and just a tiny breeze blew. Heaven. It was so wonderful to be outside. To be alive.

And then there was the sound. It wasn't exactly a bird. Too piercing for a bird. Well, perhaps one of those pesky mockingbirds – or a bee or possibly a wasp?

"…I've been looking everywhere for you."

The thin, shrill tone sliced through the early spring air like some kind of panicked hyena shrieking over a lost meal – or a dentist's drill. Yes, that was it: a drill, when it's fired up and ready to descend upon a molar…

Severus sprang up like a board, snatching the baby into his arms. Severus Jr.'s lower lip began to protrude in verge-of-tears agitation.

Wincing, Amelia looked up and then forced herself to smile politely, hardly making out the shape of Hermoine in the bright sun behind her.

"Hello, Snape family…"

Without invitation, Hermoine blithely plopped down on their black picnic blanket and sighed.

"What do you want? Can't you see we're trying to enjoy a bit of peace?" Snape complained.

"Mrs. Snape, I heard you used the Sorting Hat a few days ago," she began deliberately, with just the right edge of accusation in her voice.

Severus frowned. "It's Saturday, Miss Granger, though I doubt that means much to you. I don't pay time-and-a-half for weekend labor."

"I realize that, sir. I just wanted to say hello to the baby,"

"Of course," Snape drawled.

Hermoine let the baby wrap his fingers around hers. Though he wasn't crying, his lower lip was still protruding in a bit of instinctive anxiety.

"My, he's so cute, and what a head of hair. He's the spitting image of you, sir."

Snape drank the last of his coffee. "More like Lupin, actually. Oh my…I think I hear Mr. Weasley calling you."

"Ron's home for the weekend, sir."

"Then perhaps it's Potter. Just go. You're scaring the baby."

Hermoine's eyes rolled and she turned toward Amelia.

"I heard you were deemed a Slytherin, Mrs. Snape," she ventured. "…you know...when you two used the Sorting Hat, without me, a few nights ago."

"I didn't know you were the keeper of the hat," Snape snapped.

Amelia offered an apologetic smile. "It's true, Hermoine, I just couldn't wait another second after you suggested we try it. It was such a wise idea and I was so excited to find out my official house, I just couldn't stand it. Severus wanted to wait for you, of course, but I just lost my head. I'm sorry."

Severus' eyes darkened in a mixture of disgust and more disgust. His lips began to part, but Amelia plopped the baby into his lap and it seemed to distract him at just the right instant.

Hermoine shrugged and her irritation seemed to diminish just a degree.

"Well, perhaps we should recheck it, just to make sure. I have an hour or two..."

"No. That hat won't do it a second time," Snape cut her off.

"I don't think there are any time constraints, sir..."

"Yes, there are. If you use it again, it can be dangerous; even lethal."

"Sir, I've never heard that."

"But I have. You don't know everything, Miss Granger. Almost, but not quite."

"I know enough to..."

Amelia pressed her hand. "Hermoine, it was such a special moment for me. It was such a sacred, almost sacramental ceremony, I really can't tarnish its memory by doing it again."

Snape actually had to smile and Amelia went on.

"I assure you, Hermoine, the hat was very, very sure of

itself."

Amelia smiled her most earnest, beautiful smile and Hermoine bristled, but then looked down at her hands and seemed to accept it.

"How do you feel about it, Mrs. Snape?"

"How does she feel about what?" Severus said, biting off each word because he knew exactly what "it" was.

"Being sorted into…Slytherin?"

Amelia paused, glanced at Severus, the baby, and then back at Hermoine.

"I can't describe it in words," she replied quietly.

Scowling, Snape eyed her darkly and she began to pray for the gift of diplomacy – or of apparation.

"…I'm already sewing Slytherin emblems on my entire wardrobe." She proudly held up her cape.

"Wardrobe?" Hermoine asked curiously, but then realized her fumble and raced on. "How nice."

"And our pillow shams. I'm doing very ornate S's all around the edges."

"That's nice."

"And on the baby's cape and his little jumpers. Because I'm proud. I'm so very, very proud." Amelia glanced over at Severus and smiled brightly. He turned away.

"That's nice, but perhaps we really should double check..."

"It's done, Miss Granger. I'm not paying for a second run. What do you want? Shouldn't you be studying for the potions exam?"

"The exam isn't until next Friday, sir."

"It's going to be very difficult. This is no time to procrastinate."

Ignoring him, she again focused on Amelia. "Mrs. Snape, I'd like to locate your father. I'd like to talk to him, and ask him why he treated you so poorly."

Snape sighed and looked down bitterly. Amelia swallowed hard and shook her head.

"No, Hermoine. He's probably dead. I don't know where he is. I haven't seen him since I was a girl."

"If Professor Snape could give him a drop or two of the veritaserum, we could possibly get to the bottom of why he treated you the way he did – and thereby help you discover your identity."

"You're talking like it was Amelia's fault," Snape said icily. "I don't care if she was half Dementor, half Deatheater, he had no right to mistreat her so."

Hermoine nodded. "I agree, sir. I just thought, perhaps, it could shed important light on the mystery of her powers."

Snape raked a hand through his hair, trying to stop the headache that was pounding somewhere in the back of his skull. Amelia felt the same pain, and took Severus Jr. into her arms, holding him tightly and trying to bury herself in the wonderful, sweet scents of his hair and his skin – hoping this girl would somehow go away.

"I'll escort you back to your quarters, Miss Granger. Amelia, stay here with the baby. I think he's hungry."

"Oh my…I'm so sorry, Severus," She swept up the baby and ripped open her blouse. Snape swept to his feet and hustled Hermoine off by the arm.

--

"Sir, I don't understand your attitude," Hermoine said a bit impatiently as they hurried up the hillside. "I thought you wanted me to find out your wife's magical identity."

"Miss Granger," he took a deep breath, "I'm afraid her father could be dangerous. He…committed her to an institution after her mother's death. Amelia had, understandably, been very upset by the tragedy – and he took advantage of her fragile emotional state to admit her to a…mental institution."

Hermoine's eyes filled with pain. "I'm sorry, sir. I'm so sorry."

"After Amelia was admitted, the blackguard disappeared again. Thankfully, Professor McGonigall came to her aid – and helped her escape…I mean, get released."

Hermoine's forehead creased in regret, and she said nothing.

"The point is, my wife doesn't know this. It has to stay that way. She'll die if she finds out her father betrayed her so; and naturally, I will kill anyone who tells her – or starts a rumor – or tells someone else who starts a rumor. Do we understand each other?"

"Yes, sir."

"Good."

Hermoine sighed tiredly. "Professor Snape, there's just one last detail I wanted to tell you."

"What now?"

"Her father is a Deatheater."

Whatever he was about to say washed from his mind like the tide. He stopped. Dead. Frozen. Horrified.

"I beg your pardon?"

"A Deatheater, sir, like you used to be."

"Keep your voice down," he snapped.

His hand, as if by its own will, was reaching for his wand. How wonderful it would be to take it out, say those two beautiful words, and…

Hermoine removed a yellowed article from her cape.

"Here we are, sir. Her mother's engagement announcement. It made the school newspaper because she was a Hogwarts graduate."

He glanced at it. "It doesn't say anything about Deatheaters. Why the hell do you claim he is one?"

"I researched his last name, Garrett, and it came back."

"It came back? Came back from where?" he exclaimed.

"The American Association of Deatheaters-Greater Topeka chapter. I came upon their roster."

"What? How the hell did you find their roster?" Snape asked incredulously.

"The computer, sir," she said proudly. "In Hogsmeade."

"That's forbidden."

"Oh, Professor Dumbledore just doesn't want to invest in a good system and take the school into the 21st Century, like he should."

"How dare you speak of your headmaster with such disrespect. Professor Dumbledore believes in the time-honored traditions of magical pedagogy and research."

"He's tight. Anyway, it only took me two minutes…I mean, two hours…" She glanced furtively at her pocketbook. "I included the cost in my expense report."

He cursed under his breath and forced himself to let go of the wand.

"Deatheaters are listed on the computer?" he whispered incredulously.

"Just about everything is, these days, sir. I've been saying that to Professor Dumbledore for years. We need to modernize around here, but it always gets back to the budget with him. With all due respect, I'm beginning to think he's tight."

"Jesus..."

"Britain's chapters seem to be more discreet about membership listings. I couldn't find you anywhere."

Severus sank down on a bench, trying to catch his breath. Hermoine smiled neatly and handed him the expense report.