Chapter 6 – The City of the Double Axe
Two young men greeted the students and teachers as they disembarked - one of them picked up Britomartis in a hug and kissed her cheeks.
"Aunt Martis!" he exclaimed, putting her back down. "We missed you so much!"
"Damon, when did you grow up?" she asked. She turned to the other young man. "Dorian, good to see you grown up as well. Nephews, these are my students from Hogwarts - " She introduced the teenagers, while Hermione, Glynis, and Elizabeth began to drool in the general direction of the well- built young Cretan men with dark eyes, bronze skin, and wild black hair. "Children, these are my nephews Damon and Dorian Vox."
"Welcome to Crete," Damon greeted them. "My brother Dorian is the dolphin researcher. Ask him nice and he'll let you ride the dolphins. I'm the Bull Leaper."
"Bull Leaper?" Glynis asked, pushing Draco out of the way. "Isn't that dangerous?"
"Yeah," he replied, pulling away a flap of his tunic to show a scar on the right side of his ribcage. "Fame, glory, and chicks dig the scars."
"Very," Glynis agreed, brushing her hand through her short hair.
"Miss Ryper, please try not to seduce my nephew tonight," Britomartis stated.
"What about tomorrow?"
"We'll discuss that later - right now we need to get in and wash up for dinner." She tugged Damon away from her student. "Dear, be a darling and strap your grandmother down before she makes a fool of herself when greeting me."
He nodded. "Gram's been a basketcase, Auntie. Been driving the family mad with her 'guilty mother' shtick."
Martis did not comment. Damon ran off and Dorian replaced his spot next to her, holding the torch aloft to light the walkway up to the Vox household on one of the hills around Knossos.
"How have you been, Aunt Martis?" Dorian asked quietly. "We haven't seen you since the ... you know."
"Recovering. Tell me, is the shrine - ?"
"Still in the family shrine. Grandmother's looked after it more than any other." He swallowed. "Aunt, Grandmother really regrets what she did to you. I think - "
Britomartis turned to her nephew. "I want to hear it from her if she has."
Dorian Vox bowed his head. "As you wish."
Behind them, Severus Snape remained quiet. He had no place here. This was Britomartis' world - her past, her life, her family. He had no part of this.
But he will be there, in case she needs him.
* * *
Saphira Vox was a matriarch who had two regrets in her long life.
The neglect of her youngest child Britomartis, and the fact the realization came at the expense of her grandchildren's lives.
She was beyond the excuse stage. And the apology stage.
All she wanted now was to hold her baby again and do it right. But Britomartis' parting words just after the funeral of her own family still stung Saphira's heart: "It's too late, Saphira. Everything's dead and the past is lost. Don't grasp at incense smoke."
The front doors opened and she stood straight as the Matriarch of the Vox family. Behind her, the wall frescoes were brightly painted with dolphins and sea creatures, bordered in scarlet and deep greens. The stone pillars were also spiraled with stylized snakeskin patterns. It was one of the more expensive and elegant homes of Knossos, befitting the former High Priestess of Atana Potinija and her husband, an advisor in the courts.
Dorian came first, followed by Britomartis then a man she did not recognize, followed by ten children, all under eighteen.
"Welcome to my home," the old woman intoned. "I am Saphira Vox, your hostess during your stay. I am sure you are all hungry and tired, so please make use of the washrooms and join me for dinner."
"Where are the servants?" one blonde boy with an arrogant air asked. "I had to carry my own trunks up here!"
The dark-haired man standing awfully close to Saphira's daughter glared at the child who immediately quieted. One of the older children, a strapping young lad with brown hair, bowed down. "Thank you for your hospitality, Lady Vox. I am Oliver Wood." He stepped back.
Following Oliver's example, the rest of the students bowed or curtsied and introduced themselves - even the rude blonde child after a fashion.
"What an interesting scar. I've heard rumors of such a scar," Saphira murmured as she peered into Harry Potter's face during his turn. "Tell me, child, have you faced the darkness yet?"
"Beg pardon?"
"I think you have ... and have not ..." She clapped her hands. "Your rooms and washrooms are located in the north wing of the house, where the children's rooms used to be. Everything is set out for two in each room. Dinner will be served in a half-hour - please be refreshed by then. I will send servants up to summon you to dinner."
The students thanked her and made their way with their luggage up the stairs to the bedrooms.
Saphira dropped the glamour of Matriarch and held her arms out. "My Britomartis ... "
Her daughter responded formally, "Good evening, Lady Saphira, thank you for allowing my students to stay here. You will be reimbursed."
Saphira did not pursue the attempt at reconciliation. "And welcome to my home, young man."
Severus turned around to see if a student was behind him, noted there was not, then decided she may have been speaking to him. He stepped forward next to Britomartis. "Good evening, Lady Vox. I am Professor Severus Snape, Potions Master at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry."
"A pleasure to meet you, Professor Snape." She paused. "Your name is familiar."
Britomartis cleared her throat. "I had written you twenty years ago about him - he was my best friend while I attended there, Saphira." She snaked her arm into his, pulling him close. "Now we're House Master and House Mother of Slytherin."
Saphira's eyes widened. The mentioning of their positions - plus the movement of closeness - made the old woman jump to conclusions. "Well, then, that's nice. Oh, my, if I had known - "
"Known?"
"Well, I suppose we could move you both into a room, there would be no problem in that regard - "
Saphira wandered off, muttering to herself.
Behind her, Severus blinked, feeling like a tornado had gone through. "Was she having the same conversation as you?"
"I don't think so." Britomartis shrugged. "If you'll excuse me ... "
"Yes." She made no move to go. Severus touched her hand, not really wanting to make her go, but knowing she needed to. "Martis, you're still gripping me."
She released him. "Sorry."
* * *
Britomartis used to sit in the middle of the entry hall when she was a child and crawl around the spirals the mosaic tessera was arranged into. She would outline the fish and dolphins with her chubby fingers, softly singing songs of the ocean the real dolphins had taught her.
The light would stretch across the floor from the windows, each day they stretched longer or higher, marking the exact point her father would come home from the courts.
A hug was accepted, then he was off again. She would sit back down and tell stories to the bulls along the lower half of the walls, of older siblings training to leap over them and reciting the tale of the mythical Minotaur. The sunlight became dimmer. She would roll onto her back and stare up out one of the windows and into a cloudless blue sky, framed by the borders of the windows.
The sky would darken, then her mother came home. A casual brush away, then she was gone, too. 'Love you, mommy.' 'Nice, dear, I need to do something.'
When she was old enough to go outside, she wandered the central regions for hours. Dion Tuzoia - later to become her husband Dion Vox - was an older boy who had his own flying carpet. Both would escape their houses and fly around the island, skimming over the ocean waves, buzzing the sheep, outracing the deadly attentions of the manticores. They would lay on top of the ruins of one of the temples, gazing at the cloud-streaked sky and telling each other stories.
Funny, but even Dion had helped in raising her.
When she went to Hogwarts, she came back every summer and practiced to be a Beater for the Quidditch team. Dion would toss rocks at her across the landscape as she steadied on her broom and hit them. This was how she perfected the Backbeat Bludger the first time, swinging her bat in a backhand hit and sending the bludger several hundred yards behind her, plowing into the Chasers of the other team.
Then going back to Hogwarts, hanging around with Severus Snape and hexing the Marauders. Pulling pranks they were never caught at - or spectacular jokes that even impressed Dumbledore. That had been the happiest time, when she was the darling of Slytherin House and she was known as Spirals, the perfect balance to Snips.
Dion had kissed her that last summer ... and when she graduated from Beauxbatons, they were married.
Her parents did not care much, while his were quite proud he had married into a high family. It did not matter - theirs was a love match, not one of the arranged messes that their siblings had been shoehorned into.
And Priestesshood. Becoming the voice of Atana Potinija, Snake Goddess and Mother of Mysteries, wearing the tiered skirt and tight bodice of the priestesses with Medusa wrapped around her arms and shoulders. The cool temples filled with incense and offerings and chants of the Goddess.
Motherhood. Alia her first born, and falling in love with each and every child she birthed. How could one not love a child borne from her own womb? Each child loved and adored ... Alia with her obsession of dolphins ... Sybil and her fascination with her bull leaping cousins ... Eneas making castles on a sandy beach ... Vasilis starting to walk ... he had called her 'mama' just that week ...
Britomartis swallowed the tears, carrying the torch high as she opened the door to the shrine room.
Torches lit the room of the family shrine. Nooks and cubbies lined the walls - several generations of Vox ancestors filling these nooks with pictures or their treasured possessions.
The west wall held a large nook at a bit over waist-high, this one very well cared for with fresh flowers and burning incense, offers of small fruit before the picture along with hair combs and toddler items of her children and a shield of manticore flesh that was once her husband's.
The picture was of her children and husband - an informal, normal photograph without movement - Eneas riding piggy-back on his father's neck while Dion held Vasilis, Alia leaning against his side and hugging Sybil. All of them smiling or laughing, their shimmery brown hair pulled back from their faces and Dion's black curly hair falling in his face.
Yes, it was his hair and his smile that she fell for, once she realized that her friend was indeed a rather nice-looking male. Many of the priestesses commented her husband was one of the best looking men on the island.
But Dion was her friend, her equal, the stable element of unconditional love in her life. 'Martis, love comes in two flavors - unconditional and restrained. I believe in unconditional; I know you do, too. Our babies aren't going to know loneliness as long as we're alive and have them to love unconditionally.'
"And I couldn't keep you alive," Britomartis whispered, her voice hoarse in the quietness. She knelt before the shrine nook, placing the torch in a holder near her. "Dion, Alia, Sybil, Eneas, Vasilis ... my darling loves, Mama's back home."
She broke into tears, and sobbed the cry of widowed wife and childless mother.
Two young men greeted the students and teachers as they disembarked - one of them picked up Britomartis in a hug and kissed her cheeks.
"Aunt Martis!" he exclaimed, putting her back down. "We missed you so much!"
"Damon, when did you grow up?" she asked. She turned to the other young man. "Dorian, good to see you grown up as well. Nephews, these are my students from Hogwarts - " She introduced the teenagers, while Hermione, Glynis, and Elizabeth began to drool in the general direction of the well- built young Cretan men with dark eyes, bronze skin, and wild black hair. "Children, these are my nephews Damon and Dorian Vox."
"Welcome to Crete," Damon greeted them. "My brother Dorian is the dolphin researcher. Ask him nice and he'll let you ride the dolphins. I'm the Bull Leaper."
"Bull Leaper?" Glynis asked, pushing Draco out of the way. "Isn't that dangerous?"
"Yeah," he replied, pulling away a flap of his tunic to show a scar on the right side of his ribcage. "Fame, glory, and chicks dig the scars."
"Very," Glynis agreed, brushing her hand through her short hair.
"Miss Ryper, please try not to seduce my nephew tonight," Britomartis stated.
"What about tomorrow?"
"We'll discuss that later - right now we need to get in and wash up for dinner." She tugged Damon away from her student. "Dear, be a darling and strap your grandmother down before she makes a fool of herself when greeting me."
He nodded. "Gram's been a basketcase, Auntie. Been driving the family mad with her 'guilty mother' shtick."
Martis did not comment. Damon ran off and Dorian replaced his spot next to her, holding the torch aloft to light the walkway up to the Vox household on one of the hills around Knossos.
"How have you been, Aunt Martis?" Dorian asked quietly. "We haven't seen you since the ... you know."
"Recovering. Tell me, is the shrine - ?"
"Still in the family shrine. Grandmother's looked after it more than any other." He swallowed. "Aunt, Grandmother really regrets what she did to you. I think - "
Britomartis turned to her nephew. "I want to hear it from her if she has."
Dorian Vox bowed his head. "As you wish."
Behind them, Severus Snape remained quiet. He had no place here. This was Britomartis' world - her past, her life, her family. He had no part of this.
But he will be there, in case she needs him.
* * *
Saphira Vox was a matriarch who had two regrets in her long life.
The neglect of her youngest child Britomartis, and the fact the realization came at the expense of her grandchildren's lives.
She was beyond the excuse stage. And the apology stage.
All she wanted now was to hold her baby again and do it right. But Britomartis' parting words just after the funeral of her own family still stung Saphira's heart: "It's too late, Saphira. Everything's dead and the past is lost. Don't grasp at incense smoke."
The front doors opened and she stood straight as the Matriarch of the Vox family. Behind her, the wall frescoes were brightly painted with dolphins and sea creatures, bordered in scarlet and deep greens. The stone pillars were also spiraled with stylized snakeskin patterns. It was one of the more expensive and elegant homes of Knossos, befitting the former High Priestess of Atana Potinija and her husband, an advisor in the courts.
Dorian came first, followed by Britomartis then a man she did not recognize, followed by ten children, all under eighteen.
"Welcome to my home," the old woman intoned. "I am Saphira Vox, your hostess during your stay. I am sure you are all hungry and tired, so please make use of the washrooms and join me for dinner."
"Where are the servants?" one blonde boy with an arrogant air asked. "I had to carry my own trunks up here!"
The dark-haired man standing awfully close to Saphira's daughter glared at the child who immediately quieted. One of the older children, a strapping young lad with brown hair, bowed down. "Thank you for your hospitality, Lady Vox. I am Oliver Wood." He stepped back.
Following Oliver's example, the rest of the students bowed or curtsied and introduced themselves - even the rude blonde child after a fashion.
"What an interesting scar. I've heard rumors of such a scar," Saphira murmured as she peered into Harry Potter's face during his turn. "Tell me, child, have you faced the darkness yet?"
"Beg pardon?"
"I think you have ... and have not ..." She clapped her hands. "Your rooms and washrooms are located in the north wing of the house, where the children's rooms used to be. Everything is set out for two in each room. Dinner will be served in a half-hour - please be refreshed by then. I will send servants up to summon you to dinner."
The students thanked her and made their way with their luggage up the stairs to the bedrooms.
Saphira dropped the glamour of Matriarch and held her arms out. "My Britomartis ... "
Her daughter responded formally, "Good evening, Lady Saphira, thank you for allowing my students to stay here. You will be reimbursed."
Saphira did not pursue the attempt at reconciliation. "And welcome to my home, young man."
Severus turned around to see if a student was behind him, noted there was not, then decided she may have been speaking to him. He stepped forward next to Britomartis. "Good evening, Lady Vox. I am Professor Severus Snape, Potions Master at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry."
"A pleasure to meet you, Professor Snape." She paused. "Your name is familiar."
Britomartis cleared her throat. "I had written you twenty years ago about him - he was my best friend while I attended there, Saphira." She snaked her arm into his, pulling him close. "Now we're House Master and House Mother of Slytherin."
Saphira's eyes widened. The mentioning of their positions - plus the movement of closeness - made the old woman jump to conclusions. "Well, then, that's nice. Oh, my, if I had known - "
"Known?"
"Well, I suppose we could move you both into a room, there would be no problem in that regard - "
Saphira wandered off, muttering to herself.
Behind her, Severus blinked, feeling like a tornado had gone through. "Was she having the same conversation as you?"
"I don't think so." Britomartis shrugged. "If you'll excuse me ... "
"Yes." She made no move to go. Severus touched her hand, not really wanting to make her go, but knowing she needed to. "Martis, you're still gripping me."
She released him. "Sorry."
* * *
Britomartis used to sit in the middle of the entry hall when she was a child and crawl around the spirals the mosaic tessera was arranged into. She would outline the fish and dolphins with her chubby fingers, softly singing songs of the ocean the real dolphins had taught her.
The light would stretch across the floor from the windows, each day they stretched longer or higher, marking the exact point her father would come home from the courts.
A hug was accepted, then he was off again. She would sit back down and tell stories to the bulls along the lower half of the walls, of older siblings training to leap over them and reciting the tale of the mythical Minotaur. The sunlight became dimmer. She would roll onto her back and stare up out one of the windows and into a cloudless blue sky, framed by the borders of the windows.
The sky would darken, then her mother came home. A casual brush away, then she was gone, too. 'Love you, mommy.' 'Nice, dear, I need to do something.'
When she was old enough to go outside, she wandered the central regions for hours. Dion Tuzoia - later to become her husband Dion Vox - was an older boy who had his own flying carpet. Both would escape their houses and fly around the island, skimming over the ocean waves, buzzing the sheep, outracing the deadly attentions of the manticores. They would lay on top of the ruins of one of the temples, gazing at the cloud-streaked sky and telling each other stories.
Funny, but even Dion had helped in raising her.
When she went to Hogwarts, she came back every summer and practiced to be a Beater for the Quidditch team. Dion would toss rocks at her across the landscape as she steadied on her broom and hit them. This was how she perfected the Backbeat Bludger the first time, swinging her bat in a backhand hit and sending the bludger several hundred yards behind her, plowing into the Chasers of the other team.
Then going back to Hogwarts, hanging around with Severus Snape and hexing the Marauders. Pulling pranks they were never caught at - or spectacular jokes that even impressed Dumbledore. That had been the happiest time, when she was the darling of Slytherin House and she was known as Spirals, the perfect balance to Snips.
Dion had kissed her that last summer ... and when she graduated from Beauxbatons, they were married.
Her parents did not care much, while his were quite proud he had married into a high family. It did not matter - theirs was a love match, not one of the arranged messes that their siblings had been shoehorned into.
And Priestesshood. Becoming the voice of Atana Potinija, Snake Goddess and Mother of Mysteries, wearing the tiered skirt and tight bodice of the priestesses with Medusa wrapped around her arms and shoulders. The cool temples filled with incense and offerings and chants of the Goddess.
Motherhood. Alia her first born, and falling in love with each and every child she birthed. How could one not love a child borne from her own womb? Each child loved and adored ... Alia with her obsession of dolphins ... Sybil and her fascination with her bull leaping cousins ... Eneas making castles on a sandy beach ... Vasilis starting to walk ... he had called her 'mama' just that week ...
Britomartis swallowed the tears, carrying the torch high as she opened the door to the shrine room.
Torches lit the room of the family shrine. Nooks and cubbies lined the walls - several generations of Vox ancestors filling these nooks with pictures or their treasured possessions.
The west wall held a large nook at a bit over waist-high, this one very well cared for with fresh flowers and burning incense, offers of small fruit before the picture along with hair combs and toddler items of her children and a shield of manticore flesh that was once her husband's.
The picture was of her children and husband - an informal, normal photograph without movement - Eneas riding piggy-back on his father's neck while Dion held Vasilis, Alia leaning against his side and hugging Sybil. All of them smiling or laughing, their shimmery brown hair pulled back from their faces and Dion's black curly hair falling in his face.
Yes, it was his hair and his smile that she fell for, once she realized that her friend was indeed a rather nice-looking male. Many of the priestesses commented her husband was one of the best looking men on the island.
But Dion was her friend, her equal, the stable element of unconditional love in her life. 'Martis, love comes in two flavors - unconditional and restrained. I believe in unconditional; I know you do, too. Our babies aren't going to know loneliness as long as we're alive and have them to love unconditionally.'
"And I couldn't keep you alive," Britomartis whispered, her voice hoarse in the quietness. She knelt before the shrine nook, placing the torch in a holder near her. "Dion, Alia, Sybil, Eneas, Vasilis ... my darling loves, Mama's back home."
She broke into tears, and sobbed the cry of widowed wife and childless mother.