Chapter 28: The Snake Domestic
After a round of greetings and introductions, hugs and cloaks hung by the door, Rose was able to look about her. Privately, she thought Arthur Weasley would be doing the architectural world a great service by tearing down the Burrow and starting over. Still, there was a hominess that comes of long occupation and accommodation, a feeling she hadn't known in years. Rose had yet to build a house for herself, or to devote any time to homemaking since the end of her marriage ten years ago. She could settle now, she thought, and looked over at Severus Snape, resplendent in new threads: Slytherin green and black, with silver buttons and a snowy white shirt. His hair was getting long, but she liked it. There wasn't a thing about him she didn't like, she decided. As if she had shouted out loud at the top of her lungs, his head snapped up, and he gave her a smile of such warmth and happiness that she quite forgot to breathe for a bit.
Molly settled them all in the parlor, where a beautiful young woman sat with a baby in her arms. Both mother and child had near-white hair floating in the air around their faces, and sky blue eyes. "This is my daughter-in-law, Fleur, and her daughter Marguerite. Fleur married my eldest, Bill. Marguerite is 3 months old now. Fleur, this is Rose Mallorn. You remember Professor Snape?"
" 'Ow do you do, Rose? I am pleased to meet you. Good ev'ning, Professor." Fleur was from France, evidently. Rose suddenly had to absorb the thought that magic was everywhere, perhaps even back home in the U.S. of A. She felt a little dizzy.
"Aunt Rose! You came! Fleur, Rose is my godmother, from America." Hermione bounced into the room, acting only half her 22 years. "Rose is a builder of houses. Would you like a tour of the Burrow, Auntie?"
"If Molly doesn't mind," said Rose.
"I'd be delighted to show you around, Rose," said the lady of the house. "Let's start in the kitchen!"
***********************************************************
After an exhaustive tour of every room and every feature of the Burrow, Rose and Molly were in the attics. "Tired, Rose? We can sit here a minute and catch our breath." Molly fanned herself with her apron. "However did you get Severus out of those black rags? He looks transformed. He laughed! Albus will never believe it."
"Well, after I had been outfitted by Madame Malkin, I insisted he had to look equally fine. He did clean up nicely."
"It's more than the clothes, dear," Molly said. "He is living, for the first time in his life." Molly hesitated. "I know it's none of my business, Rose, but do you know what you are doing? You are a Muggle, and American."
"I am marrying Severus Snape," replied Rose. "Whether I know what I am doing or not. I am hoping that, with the help of friends, I can be a credit to him, and not a burden."
"Well you may count on my help anytime," replied Molly. "You've done some magic unawares, even if it isn't the usual kind. What are your plans for the future?"
"We will be living near Hogwarts. I hope to build my dream house there. I will continue with my business, at least at first, while Severus does his teaching and research. Perhaps we can still get down to London occasionally; we both enjoy the cultural events. And then we go on from there." Rose shrugged.
"We'd best go down; dinner should be ready by now." Molly held out her hands to the Muggle woman. "Best wishes, Rose."
*************************************************************
They entered the parlor to find it deserted, save for Severus, holding the baby. The baby stared up at him while sucking on her fist; he contemplated her gravely.
"What are you doing, Professor?" cried Molly.
"First her mamma hands her off to Bill and disappears, then Bill hands her off to Arthur and he disappears, then Arthur decides to look for you, and I am left holding the baby." He never raised his eyes. "She doesn't seem to mind being a football, though I could easily hand her off to you, Molly, since you are here."
"I have dinner to attend to. Why don't you hand her off to Rose, if you need a break?" Molly whisked out the door, while Rose came over to pick up Marguerite.
"She's dry, at least," Rose murmured. She sat down next to Severus and gazed on the fairy child. "She is so beautiful, and that hair! I thought Fleur was Swedish until she spoke."
"Fleur is part veela. Do you know what veela are?"
"Is it like the song in The Merry Widow?" Rose asked.
"I don't know the song," said Severus. "Can you sing it?"
Rose thought a moment. "I don't know the original German, but this is a translation:
The night is romantic and I am alone. In vain through my window the moonlight is thrown. "Oh, Vilia my Vilia!" Oh yes, that's the tune, The song of the shepherd who cried for the moon
Vilia, oh Vilia, oh let me be true; My little life is a love song to you. Vilia, oh Vilia, I've waited so long; Lonely with only a song. Vilia, oh Vilia, don't leave me alone! Love calls to love and my heart is your own. Vilia, oh Vilia, I've waited so long; Lonely with only a song. Only a song Only a song"
"It's about a magical creature in the woods of central Europe, and the shepherd has fallen in love with her. The Merry Widow, who is from a tiny Central European state, sings this folk song to her guests while in France. Franz Lehar wrote the music. Lorenz Hart wrote these lyrics for an old film. The original song lyrics are probably different. The movies always distorted the original, for various reasons."
"Well, Marguerite doesn't disapprove," noted Severus. He was watching how Rose held the baby, and thought of various Madonna and Child paintings he had seen. She was a natural, to be sure. Well, there was more than one way to give her another chance at motherhood, if she wished.
"That was beautiful, Rose," said Fleur, as she returned to the parlor. "I 'ave not heard that song for many years."
Rose blushed. She had the sinking suspicion that the folk tale lived before her. "Do you want your daughter back?" she asked wistfully.
"When she wakes up. You can hold her until then," Fleur smiled.
Dinner was merry and the food delicious. Half of the dinner conversation went right over Rose's head, but she enjoyed the festive atmosphere. Fortunately Arthur Weasley seemed to have completely forgotten the Halloween dance incident. Business matters were not discussed at the table, nor wedding plans. Harry Potter showed up just before dinner in the company of yet another Weasley, Ronald by name. Both were fine, handsome young men. Rose would never have dreamed that the modern equivalent of a mythic hero would be sitting across the table from her. He seemed polite, a bit shy, and just plain ordinary. The Weasley twins, Fred and George, did not seem dangerous, as all the tales Dobby had told her implied. Nobody was performing any feats of magic at the dinner table, either, so Rose felt unexceptional.
After dinner, and an hour of conversation, Severus made their excuses. "Rose is still recovering from recent events. Thank you, Molly, for a delightful evening. Your cooking is superb as ever."
"It is much easier to cook at home, I must admit. Thank you both for coming. It was a pleasure meeting you, Rose." Molly was clasping Rose's hand warmly. "You can send letters to the Burrow anytime."
"Albus tells me you are wrapping up the project, Severus," said Arthur Weasley. "After I've seen the reports, there may be some follow-up work, if you are interested."
"We shall have to see. I have a full schedule ahead next term." Severus was going to have a honeymoon, or know the reason why.
After a round of greetings and introductions, hugs and cloaks hung by the door, Rose was able to look about her. Privately, she thought Arthur Weasley would be doing the architectural world a great service by tearing down the Burrow and starting over. Still, there was a hominess that comes of long occupation and accommodation, a feeling she hadn't known in years. Rose had yet to build a house for herself, or to devote any time to homemaking since the end of her marriage ten years ago. She could settle now, she thought, and looked over at Severus Snape, resplendent in new threads: Slytherin green and black, with silver buttons and a snowy white shirt. His hair was getting long, but she liked it. There wasn't a thing about him she didn't like, she decided. As if she had shouted out loud at the top of her lungs, his head snapped up, and he gave her a smile of such warmth and happiness that she quite forgot to breathe for a bit.
Molly settled them all in the parlor, where a beautiful young woman sat with a baby in her arms. Both mother and child had near-white hair floating in the air around their faces, and sky blue eyes. "This is my daughter-in-law, Fleur, and her daughter Marguerite. Fleur married my eldest, Bill. Marguerite is 3 months old now. Fleur, this is Rose Mallorn. You remember Professor Snape?"
" 'Ow do you do, Rose? I am pleased to meet you. Good ev'ning, Professor." Fleur was from France, evidently. Rose suddenly had to absorb the thought that magic was everywhere, perhaps even back home in the U.S. of A. She felt a little dizzy.
"Aunt Rose! You came! Fleur, Rose is my godmother, from America." Hermione bounced into the room, acting only half her 22 years. "Rose is a builder of houses. Would you like a tour of the Burrow, Auntie?"
"If Molly doesn't mind," said Rose.
"I'd be delighted to show you around, Rose," said the lady of the house. "Let's start in the kitchen!"
***********************************************************
After an exhaustive tour of every room and every feature of the Burrow, Rose and Molly were in the attics. "Tired, Rose? We can sit here a minute and catch our breath." Molly fanned herself with her apron. "However did you get Severus out of those black rags? He looks transformed. He laughed! Albus will never believe it."
"Well, after I had been outfitted by Madame Malkin, I insisted he had to look equally fine. He did clean up nicely."
"It's more than the clothes, dear," Molly said. "He is living, for the first time in his life." Molly hesitated. "I know it's none of my business, Rose, but do you know what you are doing? You are a Muggle, and American."
"I am marrying Severus Snape," replied Rose. "Whether I know what I am doing or not. I am hoping that, with the help of friends, I can be a credit to him, and not a burden."
"Well you may count on my help anytime," replied Molly. "You've done some magic unawares, even if it isn't the usual kind. What are your plans for the future?"
"We will be living near Hogwarts. I hope to build my dream house there. I will continue with my business, at least at first, while Severus does his teaching and research. Perhaps we can still get down to London occasionally; we both enjoy the cultural events. And then we go on from there." Rose shrugged.
"We'd best go down; dinner should be ready by now." Molly held out her hands to the Muggle woman. "Best wishes, Rose."
*************************************************************
They entered the parlor to find it deserted, save for Severus, holding the baby. The baby stared up at him while sucking on her fist; he contemplated her gravely.
"What are you doing, Professor?" cried Molly.
"First her mamma hands her off to Bill and disappears, then Bill hands her off to Arthur and he disappears, then Arthur decides to look for you, and I am left holding the baby." He never raised his eyes. "She doesn't seem to mind being a football, though I could easily hand her off to you, Molly, since you are here."
"I have dinner to attend to. Why don't you hand her off to Rose, if you need a break?" Molly whisked out the door, while Rose came over to pick up Marguerite.
"She's dry, at least," Rose murmured. She sat down next to Severus and gazed on the fairy child. "She is so beautiful, and that hair! I thought Fleur was Swedish until she spoke."
"Fleur is part veela. Do you know what veela are?"
"Is it like the song in The Merry Widow?" Rose asked.
"I don't know the song," said Severus. "Can you sing it?"
Rose thought a moment. "I don't know the original German, but this is a translation:
The night is romantic and I am alone. In vain through my window the moonlight is thrown. "Oh, Vilia my Vilia!" Oh yes, that's the tune, The song of the shepherd who cried for the moon
Vilia, oh Vilia, oh let me be true; My little life is a love song to you. Vilia, oh Vilia, I've waited so long; Lonely with only a song. Vilia, oh Vilia, don't leave me alone! Love calls to love and my heart is your own. Vilia, oh Vilia, I've waited so long; Lonely with only a song. Only a song Only a song"
"It's about a magical creature in the woods of central Europe, and the shepherd has fallen in love with her. The Merry Widow, who is from a tiny Central European state, sings this folk song to her guests while in France. Franz Lehar wrote the music. Lorenz Hart wrote these lyrics for an old film. The original song lyrics are probably different. The movies always distorted the original, for various reasons."
"Well, Marguerite doesn't disapprove," noted Severus. He was watching how Rose held the baby, and thought of various Madonna and Child paintings he had seen. She was a natural, to be sure. Well, there was more than one way to give her another chance at motherhood, if she wished.
"That was beautiful, Rose," said Fleur, as she returned to the parlor. "I 'ave not heard that song for many years."
Rose blushed. She had the sinking suspicion that the folk tale lived before her. "Do you want your daughter back?" she asked wistfully.
"When she wakes up. You can hold her until then," Fleur smiled.
Dinner was merry and the food delicious. Half of the dinner conversation went right over Rose's head, but she enjoyed the festive atmosphere. Fortunately Arthur Weasley seemed to have completely forgotten the Halloween dance incident. Business matters were not discussed at the table, nor wedding plans. Harry Potter showed up just before dinner in the company of yet another Weasley, Ronald by name. Both were fine, handsome young men. Rose would never have dreamed that the modern equivalent of a mythic hero would be sitting across the table from her. He seemed polite, a bit shy, and just plain ordinary. The Weasley twins, Fred and George, did not seem dangerous, as all the tales Dobby had told her implied. Nobody was performing any feats of magic at the dinner table, either, so Rose felt unexceptional.
After dinner, and an hour of conversation, Severus made their excuses. "Rose is still recovering from recent events. Thank you, Molly, for a delightful evening. Your cooking is superb as ever."
"It is much easier to cook at home, I must admit. Thank you both for coming. It was a pleasure meeting you, Rose." Molly was clasping Rose's hand warmly. "You can send letters to the Burrow anytime."
"Albus tells me you are wrapping up the project, Severus," said Arthur Weasley. "After I've seen the reports, there may be some follow-up work, if you are interested."
"We shall have to see. I have a full schedule ahead next term." Severus was going to have a honeymoon, or know the reason why.