Chapter 42:
The next day was nowhere near as thrilling as my first foray into teaching. The majority of my classes were very well behaved, save for the seventh year Slytherins, but then, I was able to pass over much of the problem by dropping a few well placed hints about my knowing their parents. Several of them caught on and by the end of class they were no matter.
That evening, long after supper had finished, the Order of the Phoenix met. Uncle filled everyone in on new findings, of which there were few. Bill Weasley filled us in on goings on at Gringotts, of which there were a few items of interest, and Arthur Weasley and Kingsley Shacklebolt completed the Minstry report.
Well after midnight I was still there, along with Molly and Arthur, who had stayed after to clean up. I handed another mug to Molly and launched into conversation.
"Do you worry about Harry?"
Molly looked up, startled, and answered, "Of course. Harry is another one of our boys, has been since the first day he started Hogwarts. I worry about him as much as I do my own boys."
I nod. "But, I mean, being the boy-who-lived, do you worry more for him?"
"Possibly." She replies with caution. Arthur is at the other end of the room. Molly dries her hands on her apron and rakes an eye over me. "Why do you ask?"
"Curiousity. Harry has no parents to look after him the way your children do. Neither did I. I was fortunate enough to have Albus take me in, same as he has Harry."
This comment riles Molly. "Albus Dumbledore may think he has Harry's best interests at heart, but he is far too manipulative to understand how much he hurts the boy."
I look interestedly at Molly. Arthur has noticed her tone and approaches, but Molly is not to be stopped. "I do not like to speak ill of the Headmaster, for I do greatly respect him. But, in regards to Harry Potter, he has no idea what he is doing."
"Molly." Arthur chimes in softly. Molly flashes her eyes to her husband's. Apparently this conversation has taken place between the two of them before.
"Arthur, the woman asked." Molly says. "But Dumbledore is not alone in his mistreatment of Harry. Your husband," she says, with obvious relish, "takes his role far too seriously."
I nod. "Unfortunately, as much as Harry's life always hangs in the balance, so does Severus'. Severus treads the line daily between life and death. One false step will be his last."
It obviously pains Molly to hear Severus' fate laid out so plain before her. Arthur nods his head in agreement. "Yes, I think Severus sacrifices more than any of us shall ever know."
"That does not excuse his abomninable treatment of Harry." Molly chides.
"No, but it does give it reason." Says Arthur.
"Harry seems quite capable of taking care of himself." I break in.
"He is still a boy. A boy who has faced more than most of us ever will, I admit, but he is still a boy." Molly asserts.
I nod my agreement. "Is that why you look after him?"
"We look after him because no one else will. At least, they won't look after him because he's a boy. They'll look after him because he's the boy who lived. Not because he's Harry, but because he's Harry Potter." Arthur says.
I smile. "Thank you, Arthur. Harry has grown very dear to my heart in the past few days. I am pleased to hear he has someone as wonderful as you both to look after him."
Molly eyes me but says nothing.
"I thank you also for the help and compassion you have shown Severus. I know he has appeared on your doorstep bruised and battered from his meetings with Voldemort. I am eternally grateful he has someone who sees past the façade and cares for him tenderly."
Molly grudgingly accepts my thank you. Arthur looked at me curiously. "Where have you been all these years, that you were unable to look after Severus?"
"I was banished to the States years ago by my benefactor. I took all my schooling there, and it was made clear to me that there I should remain if I wanted to keep up the quality of life I had been accustomed to enjoying. Albus was able to find me interesting work, so I stayed." I explain.
They both nod. "Are you planning on looking out for Harry, then?' Molly calls after me.
I turn to face them both. "That had been one of the general ideas, but I'm afraid recent events must be taken in to consideration. I am no more fit to care for Harry than Severus. Thank you both." I exit noiselessly from the kitchen.
Making sure to tiptoe around the hag in the hall I approach the front door, chuckling at my juvenile joke around Mistress Black. The front door pulls open from my outstretched hand.
"Severus." I say, startled.
"What have you been doing?" he demands. "I've been waiting for you."
Taken aback, I respond. "Talking with the Weasleys."
"About what?" he says suspiciously.
"Harry." I say simply. It is apparently enough for him, for he changes subjects.
"How are your classes going?" he says, falling in to step beside me. Our feet crunch the snow as 12 Grimmauld Place fades from our background.
I turn to look at him. Both our hoods are up, so I am only able to discern his nose peaking out from the hood, along with clouds of breath.
"Fine." I answer. "And yours?"
"The same." Crunch, crunch.
"Where are we going?" I ask.
"Just follow." Severus says simply. I do, for another quarter of an hour. Finally, he stops. I move my head from side to side. My hood falls back. I let a mirthful filled laugh escape my lips.
"You kissed me here." I say brightly.
"You remember." He says softly.
"Of course. I had told you I wanted nothing more than to be kissed in a lightly falling snow and you brought me here, where no one would recognize us and you kissed me." I clap my hands together. It had been to awkward and wonderful. I turn on him. His mouth is stern, but his eyes are dancing.
I approach and capture his mouth with mine. As I pull away I feel something cold hit my eyelashes. Looking up, I notice it is again snowing. Laughter echoes through the empty square where we are.
"Bena." Severus says, drawing my attention to him. "There is still much to be done. Come." He offers his arm, which I gratefully accept and we disapparate, my spirit considerably lightened by our short jaunt.
The next day was nowhere near as thrilling as my first foray into teaching. The majority of my classes were very well behaved, save for the seventh year Slytherins, but then, I was able to pass over much of the problem by dropping a few well placed hints about my knowing their parents. Several of them caught on and by the end of class they were no matter.
That evening, long after supper had finished, the Order of the Phoenix met. Uncle filled everyone in on new findings, of which there were few. Bill Weasley filled us in on goings on at Gringotts, of which there were a few items of interest, and Arthur Weasley and Kingsley Shacklebolt completed the Minstry report.
Well after midnight I was still there, along with Molly and Arthur, who had stayed after to clean up. I handed another mug to Molly and launched into conversation.
"Do you worry about Harry?"
Molly looked up, startled, and answered, "Of course. Harry is another one of our boys, has been since the first day he started Hogwarts. I worry about him as much as I do my own boys."
I nod. "But, I mean, being the boy-who-lived, do you worry more for him?"
"Possibly." She replies with caution. Arthur is at the other end of the room. Molly dries her hands on her apron and rakes an eye over me. "Why do you ask?"
"Curiousity. Harry has no parents to look after him the way your children do. Neither did I. I was fortunate enough to have Albus take me in, same as he has Harry."
This comment riles Molly. "Albus Dumbledore may think he has Harry's best interests at heart, but he is far too manipulative to understand how much he hurts the boy."
I look interestedly at Molly. Arthur has noticed her tone and approaches, but Molly is not to be stopped. "I do not like to speak ill of the Headmaster, for I do greatly respect him. But, in regards to Harry Potter, he has no idea what he is doing."
"Molly." Arthur chimes in softly. Molly flashes her eyes to her husband's. Apparently this conversation has taken place between the two of them before.
"Arthur, the woman asked." Molly says. "But Dumbledore is not alone in his mistreatment of Harry. Your husband," she says, with obvious relish, "takes his role far too seriously."
I nod. "Unfortunately, as much as Harry's life always hangs in the balance, so does Severus'. Severus treads the line daily between life and death. One false step will be his last."
It obviously pains Molly to hear Severus' fate laid out so plain before her. Arthur nods his head in agreement. "Yes, I think Severus sacrifices more than any of us shall ever know."
"That does not excuse his abomninable treatment of Harry." Molly chides.
"No, but it does give it reason." Says Arthur.
"Harry seems quite capable of taking care of himself." I break in.
"He is still a boy. A boy who has faced more than most of us ever will, I admit, but he is still a boy." Molly asserts.
I nod my agreement. "Is that why you look after him?"
"We look after him because no one else will. At least, they won't look after him because he's a boy. They'll look after him because he's the boy who lived. Not because he's Harry, but because he's Harry Potter." Arthur says.
I smile. "Thank you, Arthur. Harry has grown very dear to my heart in the past few days. I am pleased to hear he has someone as wonderful as you both to look after him."
Molly eyes me but says nothing.
"I thank you also for the help and compassion you have shown Severus. I know he has appeared on your doorstep bruised and battered from his meetings with Voldemort. I am eternally grateful he has someone who sees past the façade and cares for him tenderly."
Molly grudgingly accepts my thank you. Arthur looked at me curiously. "Where have you been all these years, that you were unable to look after Severus?"
"I was banished to the States years ago by my benefactor. I took all my schooling there, and it was made clear to me that there I should remain if I wanted to keep up the quality of life I had been accustomed to enjoying. Albus was able to find me interesting work, so I stayed." I explain.
They both nod. "Are you planning on looking out for Harry, then?' Molly calls after me.
I turn to face them both. "That had been one of the general ideas, but I'm afraid recent events must be taken in to consideration. I am no more fit to care for Harry than Severus. Thank you both." I exit noiselessly from the kitchen.
Making sure to tiptoe around the hag in the hall I approach the front door, chuckling at my juvenile joke around Mistress Black. The front door pulls open from my outstretched hand.
"Severus." I say, startled.
"What have you been doing?" he demands. "I've been waiting for you."
Taken aback, I respond. "Talking with the Weasleys."
"About what?" he says suspiciously.
"Harry." I say simply. It is apparently enough for him, for he changes subjects.
"How are your classes going?" he says, falling in to step beside me. Our feet crunch the snow as 12 Grimmauld Place fades from our background.
I turn to look at him. Both our hoods are up, so I am only able to discern his nose peaking out from the hood, along with clouds of breath.
"Fine." I answer. "And yours?"
"The same." Crunch, crunch.
"Where are we going?" I ask.
"Just follow." Severus says simply. I do, for another quarter of an hour. Finally, he stops. I move my head from side to side. My hood falls back. I let a mirthful filled laugh escape my lips.
"You kissed me here." I say brightly.
"You remember." He says softly.
"Of course. I had told you I wanted nothing more than to be kissed in a lightly falling snow and you brought me here, where no one would recognize us and you kissed me." I clap my hands together. It had been to awkward and wonderful. I turn on him. His mouth is stern, but his eyes are dancing.
I approach and capture his mouth with mine. As I pull away I feel something cold hit my eyelashes. Looking up, I notice it is again snowing. Laughter echoes through the empty square where we are.
"Bena." Severus says, drawing my attention to him. "There is still much to be done. Come." He offers his arm, which I gratefully accept and we disapparate, my spirit considerably lightened by our short jaunt.