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Chapter One
**********
Severus Snape strode down the dungeon corridor, his robes billowing around him. Slowing only long enough to deal with the wards on his chamber door, he snarled the password, wishing for a solid door to slam behind him. A deep, calming breath once the portrait closed saw Severus clenching and unclenching his fists in a vain attempt to ease his fury.
This was the second time he'd been invited home this winter break. The first time had been an unmitigated disaster, and only his innate respect for the woman he called mother had kept him from the words that would have severed any hope of maintaining, or rather regaining, ties to his family. What he'd *wanted* to do had been to shout her down, leaving her in absolutely no doubt how very little he appreciated her meddling in his private life.
He was perfectly content the way he was. Well, perhaps that *was* stretching the truth a bit. Content couldn't really describe his current life, not with the double life he lived. He *could*, however, say he had absolutely no interest in 'settling down', as his mother so quaintly put it.
He sighed, his eyes closing as he allowed his head to drop back. He'd gone home that first visit to find that his *dear*, *sweet*
**Not in this life time!**
mother had arranged a dinner party, one that, among 'filler' guests, had to have included every single witch his mother knew that was even remotely close to his age. In his opinion, it had been an overly obvious set up, and as such, had been humiliating in the extreme. The only good thing that had come of that visit, had been her promise that she would never again ambush him with that kind of . . . sordid event.
Hissing angrily, Severus finally gave up trying to calm himself and strode across the room, quickly pouring himself a healthy dose of firewhiskey. Downing it, he breathed carefully, relishing the firey feel of the liquor as it slid down his throat, and the false warmth that spread out from his abdomen.
He could not *believe* he'd fallen into her trap so easily a second time. Oh, she'd kept to her promise -- one he'd made certain she remembered before accepting her invitation to visit -- technically speaking. This time had been different. This time had been worse, infinitely worse. Instead of a party, where, while humiliating, he could at least move about the room, spreading attention among an entire throng of guests, she had invited one other person. He had spent most of the night treading a fine line between reigning in his temper enough to avoid pissing off his mother -- who he well knew had a temper to match his own -- and being distant enough that the witch she'd invited didn't get *IDEAS*. He had ended up being distantly polite --a farse that was trying at the best of times, and damn near impossible while he was angry -- and had ended up engaged in inane conversation that had done little to hold his interest and did everything to incite his temper.
He could not recall a night -- barring those involving Voldemort -- he had been more grateful to see end. Unfortunately, it hadn't ended with the woman's departure. No, after she'd gone home, he'd still had to face his mother. *That* had not been pleasant.
~~~~~Holding onto his temper by the thinnest of margins, Severus counted to 10 before rounding to face his mother. Eyes narrowing, he waited. He wanted to hear what excuse she'd come up with to explain her broken promise.
Shaking her head, Serapha Snape sighed heavily. "And just *what* was wrong with her?" she asked icily.
"Wrong, Mother?" he asked incredulously. "Better to ask what *wasn't* wrong," he continued, his anger returning swiftly.
"Oh, come now, Severus, dear. Don't be tiresome."
"Tiresome!?" He couldn't believe his mother's utter gall. She was being an interfering busybody, and *he* was being 'tiresome'.
"She comes from an excellent family. Breeding does tell, you know. She's powerful, ambitious, not to mention beautiful."
"Oh, let's not mention that," Severus drawled mockingly. "You know very well, I don't give a damn about that."
"Language."
Severus resisted rolling his eyes. "Which is all beside the point, Mother. I already told you. I do not want to . Get . Married!"
"We've had this discussion before, Severus, and I'll not have it again. You're 38 and it's high time you stopped acting like a teenager and started taking on your familial responsibilities," Serapha snapped back. "I've given you ample time to do this on your own."
His mother's eyes narrowed ominously. " *Don't* try to tell me you're waiting for 'just the right person'! Is that what the big hang up is? You're waiting for *love*?" she spat contemptuously.
Severus shuddered. "Of course not! I would, however, like to actually have something in common with the woman I marry, *If* I--
"When."
Taking a deep breath, Severus forced himself not to reach out and strangle -- or alternately hex -- his mother. "Very well, Mother, I will, for the moment, concede that it will happen *eventually* -- If only to avoid another layer on this bloody argument. However--"
"Good," Serapha nodded sharply. "I wouldn't have believed you if you had claimed to want *love*. You're not the type."
Severus growled lowly, gritting his teeth. His mother was being deliberately obtuse, purposely missing -- or ignoring -- his entire position!
"And we're not having an argument. I'm discussing. You're throwing a temper tantrum."
"Temper ta-- Mother! I'm *not* thirteen, and I am most definitely *not* throwing any kind of 'tantrum'."
"You most certainly are, dear."
The urge to whip out his wand and silence his meddling mother growing by leaps and bounds, Severus controlled it by striding past her and throwing himself into one of the sitting room chairs. His frown deepened immediately as suddenly he felt exactly like the thirteen year old boy he'd just denied being. What was it about his mother that could *always* leave him feeling like that?
The soft sigh that followed him grated on his nerves.
"I can certainly understand your desire for someone who shares your interests," Serapha began again, taking the seat across from him. "What about Minerva McGonagall? Surely you can't deny--"
Severus' jaw dropped. "Surely you're joking, Mother!"
"Of course not. This is not a joking matter, Severus. I thought you realized that by now."
"Stop this, Mother. I'm begging you." He couldn't bloody believe this. He'd been reduced to begging. Severus Snape hadn't *begged* anyone in a very long time.
"No. Now tell me what's wrong with your colleague. I know very well her family line is acceptable. She *must* be intelligent. She would have to be to hold the multiple positions she does at Hogwarts."
Beyond anger and swiftly moving into exhaustion, Severus dropped his head onto the chair backing. "Mother," he began tightly, swiftly discarding most of the perfectly acceptable reasons she wasn't acceptable to *him* and latched onto the only one that would decisively cut off his mother's interest in Minerva. "She's not available."
"Hmph. I could have sworn-- No matter. I'll keep looking."
"No you won't!" Severus ordered, jumping back to his feet. "You promised the last time you would not pursue this any longer! You've already--" **Merlin!** He was sounding just like his outraged first year students -- minus the whining, of course. Severus Snape did *not* whine!
"I did no such thing Severus Snape. I promised I wouldn't arrange any more parties for you. I will not abrogate my responsibilities as--"
"I'm going home, Mother," Severus interrupted, for the moment beyond caring whether he insulted his mother by being overtly rude. It was better that than what he *really* wanted to do. "Please realize you do not run my life. I will marry when I see fit and not a moment sooner," he continued, crossing quickly toward the fireplace and grabbing the necessary pinch of floo powder.
"Very well. Good night, Severus."
"Good night, Mother."
"Oh, and Severus?"
Severus stifled his groan. "What, Mother?"
"I forgive you for being unconscionably rude to me."
"Thank you, Mother," he replied tightly, teeth once again grinding together as he locked his jaw to keep back his angry retort. Throwing the floo powder into the fireplace he quickly muttered, "Hogwarts."
His mother gave a parting shot as he felt the first pull of the floo system. "I'll send you a list, dear."
**Do that!** he thought rebelliously, **and it'll see the bottom of my fireplace as soon as I receive it.**
As he stumbled out of Hogwart's main fireplace, Severus breathed a sigh of relief. He'd survived it, and better yet, he was home.
"Enjoy your visit home, Severus?" Albus asked from the shadows.
Heart jumping into his throat, Severus whirled, automatically reaching for the wand he stored in his sleeve. Stopping himself halfway there, he crossed his arms across his chest instead. "Do you enjoy startling me, Albus?" he snarled.
"Of course not," he replied amiably. "My apologies if I did so."
Giving up -- he'd already had one inane argument today -- Severus let it go. "It was fine," he replied shortly, already heading away.
"Hmmmm," Albus replied speculatively. "You seem rather tense for having had an enjoyable evening home."
Severus froze, wondering if it was even *remotely* possible Albus knew what his mother was up to. **No,** he thought immediately, **thank Merlin!** Despite all appearances to the contrary, the Headmaster did *not* know everything -- just almost everything within the walls of Hogwarts.~~~~~~~
Relaxing into the artificial glow of the alcohol, Severus had to laugh. As . . . infuriating as the evening had been, now that he was safe, sound, and still *single*, and most importantly back in his own home, it was kind of funny to look back on. He shook his head. If it had been anyone but him going through it, he'd have thought it hilarious and watched the preceedings with malicious glee. Unfortunately, there was nothing worse than parents to make *anyone* feel like a child again. He briefly wondered if Albus' parents were still living, and if so, whether or not they could still do that to him.
It would be nice to know it actually *stopped* at some point. He'd never ask. He didn't want to run the chance of finding out it never stopped. Somehow, it just didn't seem right that Albus Dumbledore -- the man who bloody well seemed to know *everything* that went on around him -- could be made to feel like a recalcitrant child.
The world would never recover from that discovery, Severus decided firmly.
TBC Kiristeen Feedback: Muse food, and deliciously craved. : ) Kiristeen@kiristeen.com
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Chapter One
**********
Severus Snape strode down the dungeon corridor, his robes billowing around him. Slowing only long enough to deal with the wards on his chamber door, he snarled the password, wishing for a solid door to slam behind him. A deep, calming breath once the portrait closed saw Severus clenching and unclenching his fists in a vain attempt to ease his fury.
This was the second time he'd been invited home this winter break. The first time had been an unmitigated disaster, and only his innate respect for the woman he called mother had kept him from the words that would have severed any hope of maintaining, or rather regaining, ties to his family. What he'd *wanted* to do had been to shout her down, leaving her in absolutely no doubt how very little he appreciated her meddling in his private life.
He was perfectly content the way he was. Well, perhaps that *was* stretching the truth a bit. Content couldn't really describe his current life, not with the double life he lived. He *could*, however, say he had absolutely no interest in 'settling down', as his mother so quaintly put it.
He sighed, his eyes closing as he allowed his head to drop back. He'd gone home that first visit to find that his *dear*, *sweet*
**Not in this life time!**
mother had arranged a dinner party, one that, among 'filler' guests, had to have included every single witch his mother knew that was even remotely close to his age. In his opinion, it had been an overly obvious set up, and as such, had been humiliating in the extreme. The only good thing that had come of that visit, had been her promise that she would never again ambush him with that kind of . . . sordid event.
Hissing angrily, Severus finally gave up trying to calm himself and strode across the room, quickly pouring himself a healthy dose of firewhiskey. Downing it, he breathed carefully, relishing the firey feel of the liquor as it slid down his throat, and the false warmth that spread out from his abdomen.
He could not *believe* he'd fallen into her trap so easily a second time. Oh, she'd kept to her promise -- one he'd made certain she remembered before accepting her invitation to visit -- technically speaking. This time had been different. This time had been worse, infinitely worse. Instead of a party, where, while humiliating, he could at least move about the room, spreading attention among an entire throng of guests, she had invited one other person. He had spent most of the night treading a fine line between reigning in his temper enough to avoid pissing off his mother -- who he well knew had a temper to match his own -- and being distant enough that the witch she'd invited didn't get *IDEAS*. He had ended up being distantly polite --a farse that was trying at the best of times, and damn near impossible while he was angry -- and had ended up engaged in inane conversation that had done little to hold his interest and did everything to incite his temper.
He could not recall a night -- barring those involving Voldemort -- he had been more grateful to see end. Unfortunately, it hadn't ended with the woman's departure. No, after she'd gone home, he'd still had to face his mother. *That* had not been pleasant.
~~~~~Holding onto his temper by the thinnest of margins, Severus counted to 10 before rounding to face his mother. Eyes narrowing, he waited. He wanted to hear what excuse she'd come up with to explain her broken promise.
Shaking her head, Serapha Snape sighed heavily. "And just *what* was wrong with her?" she asked icily.
"Wrong, Mother?" he asked incredulously. "Better to ask what *wasn't* wrong," he continued, his anger returning swiftly.
"Oh, come now, Severus, dear. Don't be tiresome."
"Tiresome!?" He couldn't believe his mother's utter gall. She was being an interfering busybody, and *he* was being 'tiresome'.
"She comes from an excellent family. Breeding does tell, you know. She's powerful, ambitious, not to mention beautiful."
"Oh, let's not mention that," Severus drawled mockingly. "You know very well, I don't give a damn about that."
"Language."
Severus resisted rolling his eyes. "Which is all beside the point, Mother. I already told you. I do not want to . Get . Married!"
"We've had this discussion before, Severus, and I'll not have it again. You're 38 and it's high time you stopped acting like a teenager and started taking on your familial responsibilities," Serapha snapped back. "I've given you ample time to do this on your own."
His mother's eyes narrowed ominously. " *Don't* try to tell me you're waiting for 'just the right person'! Is that what the big hang up is? You're waiting for *love*?" she spat contemptuously.
Severus shuddered. "Of course not! I would, however, like to actually have something in common with the woman I marry, *If* I--
"When."
Taking a deep breath, Severus forced himself not to reach out and strangle -- or alternately hex -- his mother. "Very well, Mother, I will, for the moment, concede that it will happen *eventually* -- If only to avoid another layer on this bloody argument. However--"
"Good," Serapha nodded sharply. "I wouldn't have believed you if you had claimed to want *love*. You're not the type."
Severus growled lowly, gritting his teeth. His mother was being deliberately obtuse, purposely missing -- or ignoring -- his entire position!
"And we're not having an argument. I'm discussing. You're throwing a temper tantrum."
"Temper ta-- Mother! I'm *not* thirteen, and I am most definitely *not* throwing any kind of 'tantrum'."
"You most certainly are, dear."
The urge to whip out his wand and silence his meddling mother growing by leaps and bounds, Severus controlled it by striding past her and throwing himself into one of the sitting room chairs. His frown deepened immediately as suddenly he felt exactly like the thirteen year old boy he'd just denied being. What was it about his mother that could *always* leave him feeling like that?
The soft sigh that followed him grated on his nerves.
"I can certainly understand your desire for someone who shares your interests," Serapha began again, taking the seat across from him. "What about Minerva McGonagall? Surely you can't deny--"
Severus' jaw dropped. "Surely you're joking, Mother!"
"Of course not. This is not a joking matter, Severus. I thought you realized that by now."
"Stop this, Mother. I'm begging you." He couldn't bloody believe this. He'd been reduced to begging. Severus Snape hadn't *begged* anyone in a very long time.
"No. Now tell me what's wrong with your colleague. I know very well her family line is acceptable. She *must* be intelligent. She would have to be to hold the multiple positions she does at Hogwarts."
Beyond anger and swiftly moving into exhaustion, Severus dropped his head onto the chair backing. "Mother," he began tightly, swiftly discarding most of the perfectly acceptable reasons she wasn't acceptable to *him* and latched onto the only one that would decisively cut off his mother's interest in Minerva. "She's not available."
"Hmph. I could have sworn-- No matter. I'll keep looking."
"No you won't!" Severus ordered, jumping back to his feet. "You promised the last time you would not pursue this any longer! You've already--" **Merlin!** He was sounding just like his outraged first year students -- minus the whining, of course. Severus Snape did *not* whine!
"I did no such thing Severus Snape. I promised I wouldn't arrange any more parties for you. I will not abrogate my responsibilities as--"
"I'm going home, Mother," Severus interrupted, for the moment beyond caring whether he insulted his mother by being overtly rude. It was better that than what he *really* wanted to do. "Please realize you do not run my life. I will marry when I see fit and not a moment sooner," he continued, crossing quickly toward the fireplace and grabbing the necessary pinch of floo powder.
"Very well. Good night, Severus."
"Good night, Mother."
"Oh, and Severus?"
Severus stifled his groan. "What, Mother?"
"I forgive you for being unconscionably rude to me."
"Thank you, Mother," he replied tightly, teeth once again grinding together as he locked his jaw to keep back his angry retort. Throwing the floo powder into the fireplace he quickly muttered, "Hogwarts."
His mother gave a parting shot as he felt the first pull of the floo system. "I'll send you a list, dear."
**Do that!** he thought rebelliously, **and it'll see the bottom of my fireplace as soon as I receive it.**
As he stumbled out of Hogwart's main fireplace, Severus breathed a sigh of relief. He'd survived it, and better yet, he was home.
"Enjoy your visit home, Severus?" Albus asked from the shadows.
Heart jumping into his throat, Severus whirled, automatically reaching for the wand he stored in his sleeve. Stopping himself halfway there, he crossed his arms across his chest instead. "Do you enjoy startling me, Albus?" he snarled.
"Of course not," he replied amiably. "My apologies if I did so."
Giving up -- he'd already had one inane argument today -- Severus let it go. "It was fine," he replied shortly, already heading away.
"Hmmmm," Albus replied speculatively. "You seem rather tense for having had an enjoyable evening home."
Severus froze, wondering if it was even *remotely* possible Albus knew what his mother was up to. **No,** he thought immediately, **thank Merlin!** Despite all appearances to the contrary, the Headmaster did *not* know everything -- just almost everything within the walls of Hogwarts.~~~~~~~
Relaxing into the artificial glow of the alcohol, Severus had to laugh. As . . . infuriating as the evening had been, now that he was safe, sound, and still *single*, and most importantly back in his own home, it was kind of funny to look back on. He shook his head. If it had been anyone but him going through it, he'd have thought it hilarious and watched the preceedings with malicious glee. Unfortunately, there was nothing worse than parents to make *anyone* feel like a child again. He briefly wondered if Albus' parents were still living, and if so, whether or not they could still do that to him.
It would be nice to know it actually *stopped* at some point. He'd never ask. He didn't want to run the chance of finding out it never stopped. Somehow, it just didn't seem right that Albus Dumbledore -- the man who bloody well seemed to know *everything* that went on around him -- could be made to feel like a recalcitrant child.
The world would never recover from that discovery, Severus decided firmly.
TBC Kiristeen Feedback: Muse food, and deliciously craved. : ) Kiristeen@kiristeen.com
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