Severus made polite noises as he spoke to Nathanial Beaker at the Muggle hotel, thankful for once that the conversation did not require any actual thought on his part. Yes, he was Severus Snape. Yes, he taught at Hogwarts. The Headmaster was doing very well, thank you. No, he'd never given him any socks (?). Yes, he had left it rather late, but he hadn't expected to be able to attend. No, he hadn't submitted an abstract himself, but he was looking forward to hearing the presentations. Yes, it was certainly much warmer than he had expected. No, he hadn't had a chance to take a dip in the pool. He was staying at a friend's house rather than at the hotel. Yes, some of the Muggle outfits were quite interesting. No, he hadn't seen anyone carrying a sword in a while, either. Very clever of the committee. Thank you, very kind of you to get me in to the featured presentation when seats were so scarce. Yes, it had generated a lot of interest. And attendance was up that much? Well, well. Nice to see that potion brewing was receiving the attention it was undoubtedly due. Yes, I will certainly give him your best, and thank you so much for your assistance.
Normally, Severus found these conversations pointless and inane, but he really wasn't in any condition to take advantage of the opportunity for more intelligent conversation if it were offered anyway.
He followed a very tall witch with kinky, iron-grey hair into a room labeled "Ballroom G" and took a seat in the back while he waited for the presentations to begin. He was one of the first in the room – the hotel staff was still bringing in the morning coffee service and laying out an assortment of pastries. Severus noted absently that they were not casting curious glances at the attendees in wizarding attire, which was unusual, but not enough to rouse his interest at the moment. After sitting, stern and stony-faced, in the back for some time, he finally rose and helped himself to a cup of coffee, more to occupy himself than for any other reason. He was surprised, when he resumed his seat and took a sip, to find the coffee quite palatable.
"Is this seat taken?"
Severus glanced up and, recognizing his unexpected housemate, rose immediately. "No, it's not. Good morning, Mrs. Kearney. I do hope you'll join me." She waved him to his seat again as she took the one next to him.
"Thanks. Did you get your registration problem taken care of?"
"Yes, thank you." Although he knew he ought to say something more, his mind went blank. He was saved by a witch who came up to greet Mrs. Kearney – the first in a steady stream of witches and wizards who came up to speak with her right up until the moment the morning session started.
The same thing continued on the breaks, so that Severus was not surprised to find Mrs. Kearney fielding more than one invitation to join some of the other potion brewers for lunch. The one she accepted was from an elderly Russian wizard whom Severus recognized as one of the world's foremost authorities on variations in potions attributable to the use of different parts of magical plants as ingredients. The older Potions Master courteously included Severus in the invitation as well, and somehow he found himself as part of a large party lunching in the hotel dining room.
Although Severus would normally have preferred to take his meals either alone or with the company of one other congenial colleague, the larger party actually worked out fairly well for him. The conversations flowing around him naturally focused on potion brewing, and none of his unexpected companions displayed the sheer idiocy that Severus had come to expect after years of constant exposure to the really remarkable stupidity of nearly all of his students. It was a refreshing change. It also turned out that the size of the party concealed the fact that he really wasn't contributing much to the conversation. And even to his highly refined palate, the food was quite acceptable.
Almost infinitesimally, Severus started to relax.
Both of the afternoon panel discussions were interesting enough to draw some of his attention, although the inclusion of that bacon-brained Shingleton on the panel discussing the latest developments in equipment was vaguely nauseating. When the names were announced, he glanced over at Mrs. Kearney and caught the look she gave the cauldron manufacturer as his portly frame strode importantly on to the dais. She seemed to realize he had seen her, and glanced over at him. Then she gave him a small, but unmistakable wink.
When the afternoon session finally drew to a close, Mrs. Kearney slipped out fairly quickly, although Severus was certain she could easily have found dinner companions among the assembled witches and wizards. They both left the Ballroom G for a nearby anteroom which had been set up as an apparition point and returned to Catherine Clare's house.
"You already had plans for the evening meal?" Severus inquired, prompted by curiosity as they entered the hallway.
"In a manner of speaking," Mrs. Kearney returned. "Mostly I plan to go over my presentation. I'll grab something from the kitchen to eat, but what I really want to do after I get through my notes is spend some more time in the pool. A little relaxing exercise should help settle my nerves."
"That sounds like an excellent idea," Severus said slowly, wondering what he could transfigure into a swimsuit. In the end, he settled on an old set of his black work robes that he had packed unthinkingly. While they were, of course, solid black – it was much simpler to stick to one color and stark black had a useful impact at times – but the texture of the fabric had an annoying chevron pattern to it that he had come to dislike intensely.
Clad in his newly transfigured bathing suit, he plunged into the water and started to swim – back and forth again and again, with a contained violence he unleashed on the clear blue water of the small pool. His strokes were neat and precise, but he sliced through the unoffending water ferociously. He fought off his painful thoughts of Emmeline – or Lucius – or his humiliating betrayal – or how he had failed Dumbledore – and focused only on propelling his body through the water as efficiently as possibly – stroke, stroke, turn, push off the wall, and stroke again.
He had no idea how much time had passed before his body reached a satisfactory state of exhaustion, but he thought it had been dark for a while. He hoisted himself out of the pool, dried himself efficiently, and decided to dispense with supper in favor of sleep. He was vaguely aware of Mrs. Kearney sitting in the drawing room surrounded by an array of parchment – he nodded politely at her as he passed and she returned the gesture with an abstracted half-smile – and was thankful that she was busy enough not to hover over him or force him to make banal conversation. Then he was slipping beneath the sheets, taking some satisfaction in the fact that he had found a way to get to sleep without recourse to a potion.
-&--&--&-
Adrienne stepped off the dais the following afternoon quite pleased with herself, even before she began to receive the compliments – and occasional additional questions – of her colleagues who came forward to speak with her. It was a heady feeling to know that your work had received the approbation of those who were really in a position to evaluate it – people with high standards, who weren't the type to toss off casual or meaningless compliments. She knew a lot of the members of the audience, despite the fact that it was rather larger than she had expected for a specialized subject, and was pleased with the number of people who took the time to wait politely for a private word with her, congratulating her on the success of her presentation – or the underlying research – and welcoming back into the community. There was one wizard she didn't recognize among those waiting to speak with her, but Catherine's friend seemed to know him – although she wasn't quite sure from his expression that Severus actually liked him – and he disappeared without speaking to her shortly after a brief, guarded conversation with the Hogwarts Potions Master.
Master Dimitri Anatolii insisted – with his own brand of rather heavy, but well-intentioned Russian charm – that Adrienne sup with him as his guest of honor. He generously hosted a party of ten in a hastily commandeering private dining room at the hotel with a liberal spirit, and as this liberality extended to his instructions to the sommelier, the party quickly became a lively one. Adrienne enjoyed herself immensely.
The last day of the conference seemed to fly by. Her own presentation was behind her, so she could enjoy those on the final day of the schedule without worrying about her own. Her colleagues continued to say some very complimentary things about her work as they encountered her on the breaks, and her high spirits made the end of the conference seem to arrive much too quickly. All too soon, she was packing up her things, saying a brief good-bye to her unexpected house mate, and heading over to pick up the children.
-&--&--&-
"Severus! I thought you were remaining at Catherine's for the rest of the week?" The Headmaster's eyes quickly scanned Severus with concern. "You have plenty of time before classes resume."
Severus waved that away. "That's not why I'm back. Proder was there."
"Kieran Proder?" Dumbledore frowned.
"At the potions conference," Severus confirmed.
"Did he say why?"
"Some mealy-mouthed pap about expanding his horizons and always having been interested in potions. Wouldn't have fooled a first-year. Something is definitely up. Proder couldn't brew a simple boil cure potion to save his life," he said scornfully.
"Have you any other ideas about why he was there?"
Severus shook his head reluctantly. "Not without more information. I saw him when he was attending a presentation on adapting ingested and topical potions for inhalation, which made me wonder whether this might be connected to the aerosolized Confusing Concoction we've seen lately, but I can't imagine Proder having the skill to manage that himself. He was worse than Longbottom. I'm going to see what I can get out of Avery, but I though I'd better let you know."
"Very well, but be careful."
Severus turned to leave, but the Headmaster's voice stopped him.
"Severus – "
"Yes?" Dumbledore was regarding him with grave concern, which made him tense.
"I wanted you to know that everything was arranged as we discussed," the Headmaster told him carefully. "There was a piece in The Daily Prophet yesterday, so it is probably generally known by now."
Severus' lips compressed briefly, but his only response was a short jerk of his head before he turned on his heel and left.
-&--&--&-
Early 1998
It was amazing how quickly and easily Adrienne resumed much of her old routine. The children were no more than politely interested (in juvenile terms, of course) in anything to do with her work, and she quickly slipped back into the familiar patterns of day to day life with Tristan, Garrett, and Grace. But now she felt a little bit of extra zing every time she stepped into her lab – she was making her mark, and even if the children didn't fully appreciate it, there were others who did. Even outside the lab, she tackled even the most mundane of her everyday chores with a touch of zest that had been missing before.
Adrienne had gotten used to taking care of certain things Bobby had done while he was alive. She didn't really mind dealing with the garden gnomes, and you could always pay someone to maintain your broom for you. The perimeter wards she maintained herself, but she had to admit that she really resented it when they woke her up. When Bobby had been sleeping next to her, he was one whose sleep was disrupted. He had always been much better at getting back to sleep afterwards. Once Adrienne was fully awake – which admittedly took a while – she had a very difficult time going back to sleep.
When the wards were triggered that night, she wondered hazily if she could just stay in a semi-comatose state until they switched off again. Bobby had made the blasted things so sensitive that they seemed to be triggered by every passing Clabbert. She had deliberately let them slip a bit during her routine maintenance – if she hadn't, they'd have been going off at least once a week – but there were still too sensitive for her liking. As the wards failed to reset themselves to normal status, Adrienne groaned aloud, then gave in and opened her eyes, blinking vaguely at the spot where the status display charm sat on the dresser. It still showed a single intruder moving toward the house. Another blasted Clabbert.
The status changed. Now there were two.
Adrienne sat up, her eyes fixed on the status display charm. A third and fourth warning appeared – two additional intruders were approaching the house from the opposite direction.
This is real! Someone is actually trying to get into the house!
She was frozen in shock for a moment, then –
Mon dieu, mes enfants!
Adrienne was out of bed and racing down the hall toward the children's rooms, wand in hand.
"Tristan! Garrett! Get up," she hissed, shaking first one then the other hastily awake.
"What?" Garrett whined, stuffing his head under his pillow.
"Garrett, get up," she ordered, snatching the pillow away with one hand and jerking the bedclothes away with the other. Tristan was slipping his feet into his slippers, looking more alert than a ten year old boy abruptly yanked out of sleep in the early hours of the morning should.
Guess he got that from Bobby –
"Tristan, I'm calling a code," she told him, hoping desperately that he remembered enough to make this work and cursing herself for not bothering with drills after Bobby died. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the dim light of the nightlight in the hall shift from blue to red.
They're already in the house.
She dropped her voice to a whisper, "You have to lead Garrett and Grace, they don't know what to do. I'll try to distract them after I get your sister." Tristan nodded once, and Adrienne slipped quietly across the hall. Grace was more docile when wakened, but didn't move very quickly.
"Honey, we're going to play a game," she whispered to her daughter, who was yawning sleepily. "You take Garrett's hand and hold on to it. Follow him, but be very quiet, okay?" She put Grace's tiny hand into Garrett's only slightly larger one and started praying.
She could make out two hooded figures crossing the living room from her vantage point on the stairs. The other two had to be coming in the back. She just needed to keep them away from the fireplace long enough for the children to get out. She managed to get half way down the stairs undetected, but then one of the intruders turned to look directly at her and raised his wand.
"Stupefy!" She didn't hear what spell he tried to cast at her, hurling herself out of the way as soon as she got her own spell off. She landed on her side at the bottom of the stairs, and the shoulder of the arm she tried to use to catch herself wrenched painfully. Footsteps echoed across the tile floor, and she rolled behind the sofa.
I need another distraction.
"Frango," she whispered, wincing inwardly, and a three piece Native American pottery set across the room shattered.
Someone collided with the coffee table in the dark, and there was muffled swearing, then "Lumos!"
No, no, NO!
She couldn't activate the last ward with the children still in the house. Adrienne rose up from behind the sofa and tried another stunner. Just behind her target, she could see Tristan grasping a handful of Floo powder and hurling it into the fireplace. She saw her target start to crumple, and was turning toward the second when something hit her, and time slowed down.
Forgot to watch your back, didn't you?
Her body started to fall, and she knew her head was going to hit the end table an eternity before the impact, but that didn't matter. Her eyes were still fixed across the room on the fireplace as her children flickered out of sight in the flames. The command to trigger the last ward was echoing in her brain as her head hit the fireplace and Adrienne blacked out.
-&--&--&-
A/N – Just a little post to let you know that I didn't forget this story entirely, and I will complete it although my progress has been slower than I anticipated. I think juggling two stories at a time has been a little more time consuming than I expected, so I'm refusing to allow myself to start on another one until I finish either this one (most likely as it was always shorter) or Fallible (which has a lot of plot left to cover after posting almost eighty thousand words already). The next one will be set almost entirely in the MWPP era and does not really contain a romance, which is a bit of a departure for me. Well, maybe just a hint of one if you want to read one into it, but the object of his interest is never really identified. But the point is that I'm going to be more disciplined about finishing this up! Comments and constructive criticism are always appreciated –