Disclaimer:
All things not Allosia and Gabriel belong to JKR.
For those that have asked, this story will, in fact, go into Gabriel's time at Hogwarts. I'm already perfectly clear on where he's getting sorted into. Glad you all like him – his personality and presence in the story will be increasing from here on out.
This is more Italy fluff – we get some plot action at the conference, this is just fun with my characters.
Not sure if the street and neighborhood names of Rome are spelled right – it's been about 15 years for me.
------
Their days in Rome were pleasant, although Allosia suspected that to a certain degree this side trip was more for Gabriel's benefit than hers, something she whole-heartedly did not mind.
As they visited the historic sites of the city, Snape kept up a constant patter, on both muggle and wizarding history as well as his own memories of the city from when he had visited it frequently in his teens and early twenties both with and without family.
He read aloud to Gabriel the Latin on buildings and monuments, translating only sometimes, and quizzing the boy on the words that should have been familiar. Allosia did not know whether to beam or be appalled when Snape's response to an "I love you" from Gabriel was a return of the phrase with a request to conjugate. While the boy tripped slightly over the syllables of the plurals, it was clear and correct. She was glad her husband always made a point of giving the boy affection before quizzing him on things instead of waiting for the answers. Perhaps, their son would be less worried of his worth than each of his parents.
They visited the catacombs, breaking off from the official tour to explore more private and ancient passages. Allosia hummed softly to herself, and when they came to a well vaulted chamber after many twists and turns, Snape paused, and taking Gabriel's hand from hers, and stepped back said ever so softly, "Sing."
She started softly, aware instantly of the accoustics of the chamber, which not only amplified her voice, but echoed it back at her so closely that she felt its buzzing in her head as if she were in fact outside herself. Snape smiled, as she closed her eyes, and built a simple melody, getting progressively, but slowly louder, tentative, knowing this place belonged to none of them.
When she finished, when she started to tell him she would like to never leave, he silenced her with a finger to her lips. "Not in a place of the dead," he said.
"I did not know you were superstitious," she said quizzically.
"A benefit of an old family," and he smiled at the oddity of it all.
At the various ruins that dotted the city, Snape had to more than once stop his son from taking a piece of this old world with him. He found himself gesticulating wildly with his hands, trying to explain how these buildings had once looked and how they would look, if people kept taking stones. When Gabriel looked sad at the admonition, Snape leaned close to him and said, "Don't worry, I'd take them all if I could too," a confession the boy considered and which made Allosia smile.
They ate out for every meal, which was not easy with a child Gabriel's age, being neither quite old enough or quite young enough to be dependent in predictable measure. Mornings found them getting pastries stuffed with almond paste on the Via Venneto, and evenings, their dinners were in Trastevere, which once it was explained to Allosia, surprised her.
"It's quite trendy now, but it was all for scoundrels and starving students when I was first here," Snape said with a sigh.
"It surprises me that either would interest you."
"Slumming is the prerogative of the rich and the rude," he said, with a smirk.
Every oddity he had ever discovered in his time in the city he endeavored to show them, including a monastery decorated with the bones of its deceased members. As Snape prattled about his fascination with the geometry of the human form, Allosia kept looking nervously at her son who seemed perfectly content and engrossed in the subject. Well there's a similarity that will at least keep the peace, Allosia thought to herself, even as she had to admit, this was interesting, in its peculiar way.
Snape and Allosia spent each of their evenings were spent quietly leaning against each other and speaking in low voices as Gabriel slept in the small adjoining room of their suite. Snape worked his fingers idly through her short thick hair for hours on end as they talked about the ancient world, muggles, Hogwarts, the conference and anything else that came to mind. They would not sleep until utterly exhausted, in part because they wanted to take advantage of every moment of this time, and in part because they knew the later it got, once midnight passed, the less likely it was that Snape would be summoned to the Dark Lord's side.
Allosia suspected it was worries about the conference that had dampened Snape's usual aggressiveness in bed. She didn't mind, the opportunities when he needed to be weak before her were rare enough that she was happy to take the chance to make him beg to touch her, to take pleasure from her, to know of anything but his need for her. Afterwards, shuddering against her as she so often did against him he would thank her for providing so dangerous a privilege and she would stroke the side of his face, until sleep or sarcasm came. While they had always joked about their various power games, these moments were something they never ever spoke of, as if they existed outside of their lives and marriage and were merely the unlikely results of equations built by two people who had known each other in what most would consider too many different ways.
After their third night in Rome and buying their final pastries from the bakery across the street from their hotel, the three braved a muggle taxicab and boarded the train to Florence, happy to have a compartment to themselves.
All things not Allosia and Gabriel belong to JKR.
For those that have asked, this story will, in fact, go into Gabriel's time at Hogwarts. I'm already perfectly clear on where he's getting sorted into. Glad you all like him – his personality and presence in the story will be increasing from here on out.
This is more Italy fluff – we get some plot action at the conference, this is just fun with my characters.
Not sure if the street and neighborhood names of Rome are spelled right – it's been about 15 years for me.
------
Their days in Rome were pleasant, although Allosia suspected that to a certain degree this side trip was more for Gabriel's benefit than hers, something she whole-heartedly did not mind.
As they visited the historic sites of the city, Snape kept up a constant patter, on both muggle and wizarding history as well as his own memories of the city from when he had visited it frequently in his teens and early twenties both with and without family.
He read aloud to Gabriel the Latin on buildings and monuments, translating only sometimes, and quizzing the boy on the words that should have been familiar. Allosia did not know whether to beam or be appalled when Snape's response to an "I love you" from Gabriel was a return of the phrase with a request to conjugate. While the boy tripped slightly over the syllables of the plurals, it was clear and correct. She was glad her husband always made a point of giving the boy affection before quizzing him on things instead of waiting for the answers. Perhaps, their son would be less worried of his worth than each of his parents.
They visited the catacombs, breaking off from the official tour to explore more private and ancient passages. Allosia hummed softly to herself, and when they came to a well vaulted chamber after many twists and turns, Snape paused, and taking Gabriel's hand from hers, and stepped back said ever so softly, "Sing."
She started softly, aware instantly of the accoustics of the chamber, which not only amplified her voice, but echoed it back at her so closely that she felt its buzzing in her head as if she were in fact outside herself. Snape smiled, as she closed her eyes, and built a simple melody, getting progressively, but slowly louder, tentative, knowing this place belonged to none of them.
When she finished, when she started to tell him she would like to never leave, he silenced her with a finger to her lips. "Not in a place of the dead," he said.
"I did not know you were superstitious," she said quizzically.
"A benefit of an old family," and he smiled at the oddity of it all.
At the various ruins that dotted the city, Snape had to more than once stop his son from taking a piece of this old world with him. He found himself gesticulating wildly with his hands, trying to explain how these buildings had once looked and how they would look, if people kept taking stones. When Gabriel looked sad at the admonition, Snape leaned close to him and said, "Don't worry, I'd take them all if I could too," a confession the boy considered and which made Allosia smile.
They ate out for every meal, which was not easy with a child Gabriel's age, being neither quite old enough or quite young enough to be dependent in predictable measure. Mornings found them getting pastries stuffed with almond paste on the Via Venneto, and evenings, their dinners were in Trastevere, which once it was explained to Allosia, surprised her.
"It's quite trendy now, but it was all for scoundrels and starving students when I was first here," Snape said with a sigh.
"It surprises me that either would interest you."
"Slumming is the prerogative of the rich and the rude," he said, with a smirk.
Every oddity he had ever discovered in his time in the city he endeavored to show them, including a monastery decorated with the bones of its deceased members. As Snape prattled about his fascination with the geometry of the human form, Allosia kept looking nervously at her son who seemed perfectly content and engrossed in the subject. Well there's a similarity that will at least keep the peace, Allosia thought to herself, even as she had to admit, this was interesting, in its peculiar way.
Snape and Allosia spent each of their evenings were spent quietly leaning against each other and speaking in low voices as Gabriel slept in the small adjoining room of their suite. Snape worked his fingers idly through her short thick hair for hours on end as they talked about the ancient world, muggles, Hogwarts, the conference and anything else that came to mind. They would not sleep until utterly exhausted, in part because they wanted to take advantage of every moment of this time, and in part because they knew the later it got, once midnight passed, the less likely it was that Snape would be summoned to the Dark Lord's side.
Allosia suspected it was worries about the conference that had dampened Snape's usual aggressiveness in bed. She didn't mind, the opportunities when he needed to be weak before her were rare enough that she was happy to take the chance to make him beg to touch her, to take pleasure from her, to know of anything but his need for her. Afterwards, shuddering against her as she so often did against him he would thank her for providing so dangerous a privilege and she would stroke the side of his face, until sleep or sarcasm came. While they had always joked about their various power games, these moments were something they never ever spoke of, as if they existed outside of their lives and marriage and were merely the unlikely results of equations built by two people who had known each other in what most would consider too many different ways.
After their third night in Rome and buying their final pastries from the bakery across the street from their hotel, the three braved a muggle taxicab and boarded the train to Florence, happy to have a compartment to themselves.