Sixteen
The ride on the Hogwarts Express was uneventful enough. It was just Snape and I in the entire train and it was a very peaceful ride. Well, as peaceful as it could be. Snape was still keeping his distance and I was still happy enough with that. I needed to grieve alone before I could accept any consolation from anyone else.
We sat in the same car, and I'd be lying if I told you, faithful reader, that I wasn't happy to have someone else there. His presence was calming, at least, and though we didn't talk I know we both enjoyed the scenery as it whirled past us at a million light years a second. Normally the ride took forever and I became deathly bored with the view. But today it was quite pleasant to just sit and watch the world go by. Nothing to do but think things through.
I was surprised I wasn't craving a cigarette by the time we got to Kings Cross. This was where thing started to get interesting. And I stress the word start because the next week of my life was about to prove one of the most interesting weeks of my life. To say the least.
We stepped onto the platform and collected our things. I was dressed in a simple muggle skirt and button up collar shirt. It would be rather difficult to explain away Severus' mystical appearance and somewhat strange clothing. Ah well. Such is the price of protection, I suppose.
He had his hair pulled back from his face and secured in a loose ponytail with a length of black ribbon. Wisps of raven hair fell around his face and framed it, lending him the look of some foreign gentleman or heir to some faraway throne. As we stepped through the barrier and acclimated ourselves as well as we could with the muggle population, I grew a bit jealous to see more than a few women watching Snape with interest. What was their problem anyway? Couldn't they see that I was mourning here. Instinctively I reached out and took his arm in both of mine, returning their looks of disappointment with a protective frown.
We found our train without incident and settled in for a quick trip downtown to the Airport. This was where the complications set it. Thanks to tension in the muggle world between almost every nation Snape was put through a rigorous check at our terminal before we could board the plane. He was mortified when asked to remove his cloak, shoes, gloves, and to empty the contents of his pocket. I crossed my fingers and prayed, hoping he hadn't been fool enough to bring some kind of buoy knife or something. The only thing they questioned him about was his wand.
It was a rather ingenious explanation on his part. He simply told them that he was a wizard and that was his magic wand. For a moment I thought they were about to haul him in for questioning but they settled for giving him a look of distrust and sending him through the metal detector to reclaim his shoes. I smiled slightly as he sat to put them back on, looking ruffled and confused but not about to bother me with questions about what was going on. Always thinking of me, he was.
We boarded the plane and I took the window seat first thing. I loved to fly and was sure that this would relax me just a bit. But when I turned to see how Snape was settling in he looked like a child on Christmas Eve, staring with longing at the gifts under the tree. He was leaning as far over me as he could without being obtrusive, trying to get a look at what was outside the plane. I sighed and rolled my eyes, stood up, pressed myself up against the seat in front of me, and waved him over into my seat. I took his and was rewarded a thousand times over at the look of awe on his face as he inspected the runway from the reinforced window. I shook my head, wondering who had been the last person to see awe written upon the face of Severus Snape. It was worth giving up the good seat.
When the engines kicked into life and the entire plane began to hum Snape jumped visibly and placed his hands palms down on the armrests, fingers splayed frightened cat style. His eyes were wider than usual and he tried to stare straight ahead and suffer through the ordeal on his own. Always thinking of my best interests. I smiled at him and placed my hand upon one of his own.
"Relax," I told him quietly and softly. "Take off is the best part. Don't ruin it with panic."
He smiled as if I were being silly. Nothing was wrong. Really. He didn't laugh nervously outwardly but the nervous laughter was spilling from his eyes. I rolled my eyes heavenward and cast my gaze ahead again. I rested my head on the back of my seat and closed my eyes. I loved the feeling of takeoff. I relished it. Landing just wasn't the same, though it was fun as well, and the actual flying just couldn't compare.
We began to taxi across the runway and I could feel Severus' pulse rising through the veins in his hand. I took his hand full in mine and squeezed. Hard. He opened his eyes and rolled his head toward me, still resting against the back of the seat. He forced a smile and then looked straight ahead again. I sighed. This really was going to be more like me babysitting him.
Finally the engines kicked on full power and we began to sprint down the final stretch of the runway, our front wheel leaving the ground first and then the rest of us. The plane began to bank and I could feel my breathing getting heavier, my pulse rising as I felt the turbulence rock our little vessel. I think that's what I loved most about flying. The vulnerability. It was the freedom of knowing that at any moment you could just drip from 30,000 feet above the ground and every little worry you had on your mind would be wiped away, dry erase style. Your job and your grades and your dead parents would just slip placidly to the back of your mind while you worried about soaring toward the ground without a parachute. Morbid, aren't I?
Once the plane balanced itself and we were well above the clouds a stewardess came by with her cart of goodies. Free soda and peanuts. What bliss. I looked up at her as she stopped at our row and noticed how she had looked from Severus to our hands (still clasped firmly together), frowned, and asked me curtly what I wanted. I told her I wanted a coke, which she veritably tossed at me. Then she smiled sweetly at Severus and, putting on her sweetest voice, asked him what he would like to drink. He looked positively mortified, not knowing the slightest think about muggle beverages. I stepped up to the plate double quick.
"He'll have a rum and coke," I told her in a sickly sweet voice with a sickly sweet smile. I wrinkled my nose at her when I was finished just for good measure. She screwed her face up in a fake smile and scrunched her shoulders up before going to work on his drink. She finally handed it to him, making sure to run her fingers against his as she did. She was about to leave when I reminded her, ever so amiably that she had forgotten our peanuts. She scowled, served them, and headed off down the aisle.
The ride on the Hogwarts Express was uneventful enough. It was just Snape and I in the entire train and it was a very peaceful ride. Well, as peaceful as it could be. Snape was still keeping his distance and I was still happy enough with that. I needed to grieve alone before I could accept any consolation from anyone else.
We sat in the same car, and I'd be lying if I told you, faithful reader, that I wasn't happy to have someone else there. His presence was calming, at least, and though we didn't talk I know we both enjoyed the scenery as it whirled past us at a million light years a second. Normally the ride took forever and I became deathly bored with the view. But today it was quite pleasant to just sit and watch the world go by. Nothing to do but think things through.
I was surprised I wasn't craving a cigarette by the time we got to Kings Cross. This was where thing started to get interesting. And I stress the word start because the next week of my life was about to prove one of the most interesting weeks of my life. To say the least.
We stepped onto the platform and collected our things. I was dressed in a simple muggle skirt and button up collar shirt. It would be rather difficult to explain away Severus' mystical appearance and somewhat strange clothing. Ah well. Such is the price of protection, I suppose.
He had his hair pulled back from his face and secured in a loose ponytail with a length of black ribbon. Wisps of raven hair fell around his face and framed it, lending him the look of some foreign gentleman or heir to some faraway throne. As we stepped through the barrier and acclimated ourselves as well as we could with the muggle population, I grew a bit jealous to see more than a few women watching Snape with interest. What was their problem anyway? Couldn't they see that I was mourning here. Instinctively I reached out and took his arm in both of mine, returning their looks of disappointment with a protective frown.
We found our train without incident and settled in for a quick trip downtown to the Airport. This was where the complications set it. Thanks to tension in the muggle world between almost every nation Snape was put through a rigorous check at our terminal before we could board the plane. He was mortified when asked to remove his cloak, shoes, gloves, and to empty the contents of his pocket. I crossed my fingers and prayed, hoping he hadn't been fool enough to bring some kind of buoy knife or something. The only thing they questioned him about was his wand.
It was a rather ingenious explanation on his part. He simply told them that he was a wizard and that was his magic wand. For a moment I thought they were about to haul him in for questioning but they settled for giving him a look of distrust and sending him through the metal detector to reclaim his shoes. I smiled slightly as he sat to put them back on, looking ruffled and confused but not about to bother me with questions about what was going on. Always thinking of me, he was.
We boarded the plane and I took the window seat first thing. I loved to fly and was sure that this would relax me just a bit. But when I turned to see how Snape was settling in he looked like a child on Christmas Eve, staring with longing at the gifts under the tree. He was leaning as far over me as he could without being obtrusive, trying to get a look at what was outside the plane. I sighed and rolled my eyes, stood up, pressed myself up against the seat in front of me, and waved him over into my seat. I took his and was rewarded a thousand times over at the look of awe on his face as he inspected the runway from the reinforced window. I shook my head, wondering who had been the last person to see awe written upon the face of Severus Snape. It was worth giving up the good seat.
When the engines kicked into life and the entire plane began to hum Snape jumped visibly and placed his hands palms down on the armrests, fingers splayed frightened cat style. His eyes were wider than usual and he tried to stare straight ahead and suffer through the ordeal on his own. Always thinking of my best interests. I smiled at him and placed my hand upon one of his own.
"Relax," I told him quietly and softly. "Take off is the best part. Don't ruin it with panic."
He smiled as if I were being silly. Nothing was wrong. Really. He didn't laugh nervously outwardly but the nervous laughter was spilling from his eyes. I rolled my eyes heavenward and cast my gaze ahead again. I rested my head on the back of my seat and closed my eyes. I loved the feeling of takeoff. I relished it. Landing just wasn't the same, though it was fun as well, and the actual flying just couldn't compare.
We began to taxi across the runway and I could feel Severus' pulse rising through the veins in his hand. I took his hand full in mine and squeezed. Hard. He opened his eyes and rolled his head toward me, still resting against the back of the seat. He forced a smile and then looked straight ahead again. I sighed. This really was going to be more like me babysitting him.
Finally the engines kicked on full power and we began to sprint down the final stretch of the runway, our front wheel leaving the ground first and then the rest of us. The plane began to bank and I could feel my breathing getting heavier, my pulse rising as I felt the turbulence rock our little vessel. I think that's what I loved most about flying. The vulnerability. It was the freedom of knowing that at any moment you could just drip from 30,000 feet above the ground and every little worry you had on your mind would be wiped away, dry erase style. Your job and your grades and your dead parents would just slip placidly to the back of your mind while you worried about soaring toward the ground without a parachute. Morbid, aren't I?
Once the plane balanced itself and we were well above the clouds a stewardess came by with her cart of goodies. Free soda and peanuts. What bliss. I looked up at her as she stopped at our row and noticed how she had looked from Severus to our hands (still clasped firmly together), frowned, and asked me curtly what I wanted. I told her I wanted a coke, which she veritably tossed at me. Then she smiled sweetly at Severus and, putting on her sweetest voice, asked him what he would like to drink. He looked positively mortified, not knowing the slightest think about muggle beverages. I stepped up to the plate double quick.
"He'll have a rum and coke," I told her in a sickly sweet voice with a sickly sweet smile. I wrinkled my nose at her when I was finished just for good measure. She screwed her face up in a fake smile and scrunched her shoulders up before going to work on his drink. She finally handed it to him, making sure to run her fingers against his as she did. She was about to leave when I reminded her, ever so amiably that she had forgotten our peanuts. She scowled, served them, and headed off down the aisle.