Title: Footsteps
Rating: G – There is almost swearing, but barely even that…
Genre: Humour and a smidgen of Romance (if you look really carefully)
Summary: A short interlude where two relatives discuss picnics and other important matters over delicious non-alcoholic cocktails…
Disclaimer: I do not own anything of the Harry Potter World - that pleasure goes to JK Rowling. Personally I wouldn't want to own it as it is way too much responsibility, and that I believe that empire is well run by the lady mentioned above. I do own the tiny, microscopic, plot that could possibly exist in this FanFic, and the characters that are not mentioned in the books
A/N: Thank you very much to Richal and besnaped for reviewing.
A/N2: On one of besnaped's fics has a challenge about Snape jinxing the DADA job – this chapter gives hints of Dumbledore and Snape conspiring against the Professors of this ill-fortunate career…
Chapter III – The Madness Caused by Freshly-Squeezed Cocktails
"My wife wishes me to call in sick, Grandpa."
Severus Oliver Snape was in the childrens' courtyard with Albus "Bumblebee" Dumbledore, each consuming a delicious non-alcoholic cocktail, watching day become evening.
"I know, I have already given permission – Diana asked me over lunch. Gorgeous salmon."
Sip.
"How on earth did I get married to her?"
Sip.
"Because she is one of the most wonderful people of the world. All her family are. In fact, all redheads are, it is just a shame we all have to go grey some day…" Dumbledore looked forlornly down at his grey beard.
Sip. Sigh.
"I have one too many relatives related to this school."
Sip. Giggle.
"That is what happens when your great-grandfather and other Professors, some very much like yourself, spend too many decades in the same community. Once you have taught here you can never truly leave. Everyone can find some link to each of the professors, whether it is through blood, affair or marriage. I believe it is partly why the Defence of the Dark Arts has always been a one-year contract only. Brings in fresh blood."
Sip. Snort. A twinkle develops in both the men's eyes.
"It is a shame though that it is not mentioned in the main document of the contract…"
"Well, if they just read the small print … some people are just so lazy…"
"It is also just such a shame that the person that created the legal document, experienced a few, misdirected hexes and jinxes from an unsuspecting customer…"
Sip.
"It is amazing how the small print becomes smaller as you try and focus on it."
"I believe that no-one has been able to replicate the spell."
"Yes, old Albert must be rolling in his grave in despair – all those criminals and aristocrats would have loved shrinking small print."
Sip. Pause. Sip.
Severus broke the gleeful silence, and changing the subject slightly as you never knew who could be listening in – even somewhere as secret as this courtyard. "I have never managed a link, though, from myself to Sybil though."
Sip. Snort.
"Sorry to burst your little bubble. But one of my great-grandson-in-laws is the brother of Sybil."
Sip. Cough.
"Sh … sugar."
Sip.
"Indeed."
Sip.
"You know, she told me that she believed that I would rather have tea with Voldemort than see my own flesh-and-blood son!"
Sip. A choked cough.
"I gather we are talking about Diana again."
Sip.
"I cannot believe that she has power over me. I was performing an extremely difficult concoction, and I forgot the time! That was all."
Grrr. Sip. Chuckle.
"All wives have power over us men, if Voldemort had ever got married then I would doubt he would be such a, er, problem, to us now."
"Actually, in his early twenties, he did get married."
Cough. Sip. Sip.
"You never told me that!"
Sip.
"He never divorced her, she just decided that she wanted to crack Hollywood."
Sip.
"Did she?"
Sip.
"Yes, she even faked death to be able to return to her husband and the magical world, but she was too late. Tom had already disappeared into the Black Forest. She doesn't realise that Voldemort is her Tom … otherwise she would march right up to his secret 'bat-cave' and give him what he deserves. She has never married again – and Tom is presumed dead."
Sip.
"I will have to get in touch with this - ?"
"Wilma"
"Right…"
Sip. Sip. Silup.
"Dobby?"
Five Seconds Later…
"Yes, Bumblebee, sir?"
"Could I have two more of these delicious cocktails, Dobby?"
"Yes, Bumblebee, sir! Dobby is very pleased Bumblebee likes Dobby and Winky's recipe, sir, Bumblebee, sir! Dobby and Winky will be making some more freshly-squeezed!" Dobby crept up towards the headmaster, and whispered (Severus could hear ever word). "Does Bumblebee want to hear surprise announcement? Because Dobby wants Bumblebee to know first!"
"What is it Dobby?" Dumbledore stage whispered.
"Dobby asks his Winky to bond with Dobby, and Winky says yes!"
(Elves, whatever their type, whether they are tree, elemental or house elf, bond for life. It is their version of a human, veala or vampire marriage, but without all the legal hassle)
The over-excited house-elf then disappeared into the corner that he had just appeared in.
"I cannot believe that you pay him."
"Severus…"
"Sorry."
Five Seconds Later…
"Dobby is here with special drink!"
Severus grunted his thanks as he accepted the tall glass (complete with umbrella and tinsely pieces). Dumbledore, taking advantage of the momentary silence to congratulate the young house elf, wishing Dobby the happiest life with his new bond-mate and asking if he could give Dobby a present.
"No. No, no, no!" Dobby shook his head so hard, that it looked like his ears were about to take off. "Bumblebee cannot do that! Bumblebee, sir, is too kind!" And with that, he disappeared for the final time that day, off to his beloved Winky.
Sip.
"Yum, that's nice."
"Anyway, going back to what you said earlier, Severus, didn't you say something in the Staff room about having afternoon tea with a favourite past-pupil of mine?…"
Sip.
"Huh? Oh, yes, next Thursday, actually."
Snort.
"And what did you say before, that Diana told you…"
Glare. The non-alcoholic cocktails momentarily forgotten.
"I have only once doubled booked – and that could not have helped. You know that. I was able to save a life because of a little afternoon tea. Diana understands that … she shouldn't bring that sort of thing up."
Pat on the arm.
"She does understand."
Severus cleared his throat and looked into the distance – his gaze decidedly not on his mentor.
Sip.
"Well, Tom invited you to his on Thursday, if you want to come – you haven't gone for over a month."
Sip. Chuckle.
"I do miss him a little bit…"
The two professors allowed a passing of identical twinkles towards each other. And in that moment a stranger would be able to clearly identify the fact that the pair shared the same blood.
"Gran'pa!!"
That familiar red-lightening bolt streaked across the courtyard, and promptly attached itself to Albus' left leg.
"Why are you here, shouldn't you be in bed, chap?" Albus asked.
A very puzzled look sported the toddler's face. But this was wiped clean as he suddenly found his father.
"Daddy!!!"
This was said at a higher pitch than the 'Gran'pa' moments earlier and Severus found a chubby body, smelling like a gorgeous combination of freshly cut grass and of that typical baby smell that his son had not quite completely grown out of, jump onto his lap. Equally chubby arms holding on fast around his neck.
"Hay, Sam. How is it going?"
Sam looked up into Daddy's face, completely and utterly worshipfully, and tried to say, "Supercalifescoousdooous!" (The last said a little hummy as he couldn't say the whole word)
Severus groaned. "You haven't been watching 'Mary Poppins' again?"
"Yep!" A very big grin filled the boy's face.
Severus turned (as well as he could) towards Albus, "Why he cannot watch any of the better Disney films, I cannot say. 'Dumbo' surpasses 'Mary Poppins' any day of the week – or weekend."
Albus wasn't allowed to voice his opinion, as Sam shouted, "No! Never, never, never!!"
('Never' was actually Sam's first word. That is what happens when a child has two older siblings)
The introduction of the (extremely) loud child of Severus almost made the pair forget their previous conversations and their dark pasts. Albus though, managed to add, in a whisper, before they completely sent their attention towards Sam,
"I will go on Thursday. And, you know, I think I'll bake some Butterfly Cakes as well…"