A/N: I am not sure about the scene between Harry and Sidney. There is something about it that is bothering me, but I can't quite put my finger on it. Please read and review.
Disclaimer: As always, I own only what I own (and that is very little). All else belongs to J.K. Rowling.
Esme entered the sitting room and sighed. Her father was sitting in the chair by the fire surrounded by empty bottles. She watched as he leaned forward, pushing the empty bottles aside and picked up a nearly full bottle of Firewhiskey. He tried to pour some into his glass, but his trembling hands were unable to pour more than a quarter of an inch into the bottom of his glass. She watched the rest of the amber liquid spill over the table and saturate the plush black carpet. The room reeked of alcohol and she doubted that her father had moved since yesterday. Walking over to stand in front of him, she gently pushed him back in the chair, took the glass out of his hand and set it on the table. Crouching down, she placed her hands on the arms of the chairs, effectively trapping him there, and peered into his bloodshot eyes.
"Don't you think you've had enough?" she asked, quietly. "It won't bring her back you know."
Her father glared at her. "When you've lost a spouse, then you can tell me that I've had enough. And I know it won't bring her back, but maybe it will make me forget, at least for a little while."
Esme shook her head and looked at her father sadly.
Severus tilted his head and studied her. He reached out and caressed her cheek. "You look so much like her, you know."
She smiled and leaned into his hand. It wasn't often that her father reached out to her or offered any physical contact. "Except for the hair, of course," she reminded him. It was a family joke that Esme was a miniature of her mother, save for the mass of curly black hair.
Severus dropped his hand and pinched the bridge of his nose. "What time is it?"
"It is half past twelve. You missed breakfast and lunch and I was a little concerned."
Severus just looked at her. "Who's the parent here, Esme? I think I am fully capable of taking care of myself."
She stood up and kicked the empty bottles aside as she made her way to the opposite chair. "Yes, it certainly looks as though you know how to take care of yourself." She sat down. "What if Sidney had come in? Do you think he would have understood? He hasn't been the same since…."
Severus held up a hand. "Don't presume to tell me how to raise my son. Sidney and I will be just fine, even after you leave for university."
Esme crossed her legs, shifting slightly. Now would be a really good time to tell him that she had no intention of leaving Hogwarts. That in fact, she was now a full fledged faculty member. She opened her mouth, but the words seemed to be stuck in her throat. No matter what Dumbledore had said, she knew her father would be disappointed by her decision.
Looking up at her, his eyes narrowed as a memory penetrated the alcohol fog that clouded his mind. "What did Dumbledore wish to discuss with you?"
Esme uncrossed her legs and pulled them up under her. Smoothing her skirt over her legs, she lifted her hand and studied her fingernails.
Severus jerked at the familiar gesture. It was one that Serena often used when she didn't want to tell him something. "Esme," he said softly, "What did Albus wish to discuss with you?"
She looked up and smiled tightly. "He offered me the Charms position. Professor Flitwick has finally decided to retire."
He stared at her, his dark eyes burning. "Of course, you turned it down. You are going to attend a university in the fall, not teach a bunch of hormonal dunderheads."
Esme shifted uncomfortably, turning from her father's dark gaze to look into the fire. "Actually, I accepted the position," she whispered.
"What? How could you be so stupid? I want you to go tell him right now that you've changed your mind. Your mother had a classical education and you will as well."
Esme jumped up and glared at him. "I am not my mother!" she yelled. "I don't want to have a classical education. I have no desire to attend a university now or in the near future." She clenched her fists as tears sprang to her eyes. "Why can't you understand that this is my home and I don't want to leave Sidney, Hogwarts, or even you, as aggravating as you may be?"
Severus took a deep breath, trying to remain calm. "You are young, Esme. You don't know what is best for you. Teaching is not what you want to do for the rest of your life, believe me. You will attend a university and then we can discuss your options."
She shook her head, staring at him incredulously. "Are you even listening to me? This is my life. I have made my decision and you will have to live with it. I don't know if teaching is what I want to do, but I want the opportunity to decide for myself."
Severus clenched his teeth. "I am your father..."
She interrupted him, "So help me, if you say, 'and you will do what I say', I will never speak to you again."
Esme took a step forward and looked at him beseechingly. "Please, I just want you to support me. Let me live my own life and make my own choices."
"I cannot support you in this, Esme. I cannot support you if you insist on throwing your future away," he said quietly.
"So be it," she whispered, a sick feeling settling in the pit of her stomach. She wondered if this would be the final issue that would destroy their already fragile relationship. "But this is my choice, and I hope that one day you can respect it."
Severus watched as she left the sitting room, her head held high and her back straight, so reminiscent of her mother, even if she didn't want to admit it.He grimaced and cursed Dumbledore for meddling in his family's life. Leaning forward, he picked up the glass that Esme had set on the table. He looked at the amber liquid that offered him the opportunity to silence Serena's voice in his head. Turning the glass, he watched the liquid splash and swirl around the bottom. Without warning, he threw the tumbler against the fireplace, watching in satisfaction as it shattered into thousands of tiny pieces, much like his heart.
Harry stepped off the Express and gazed around. He had informed Dumbledore that he would not require an escort to the castle. Instead, he wanted to take the opportunity to get reacquainted with the grounds. Truth be told, he just didn't want to deal with any of the individuals that Dumbledore may send to collect him. No telling how awkward that may have been. He raised his head to the sky, closed his eyes, and took a deep breath. A sense of peace settled in his chest and he knew that he had made the right decision. Already, the pressure of his job as an Auror melted away. He smiled and started walking down the path toward Hogwarts. Harry loved this time of year. The sun was shining, the land was lush and green, and the air was crisp and fresh. It was definitely a long way from London.
As he neared the castle, his steps slowed and he looked around. Frankly, not much had changed. The castle was still as impressive as it had been when he had first glimpsed it. The lake was shining and rippled as the wind swept over surface. In the distance, he saw the Forbidden Forest, although it no longer seemed as dark and imposing as it once did, perhaps because he had seen so much darkness in the last few years. Glancing to the right, he saw a wrought iron gate. That was new, and he wondered briefly how long it had been there. His forehead creased as he studied the arch above the gate, taking in the large archaic letters: Τελική Γλώσσα His Greek was a little rusty, but he roughly translated it to mean 'rest in peace'.
"Since when has there been a cemetery on the grounds?" he asked out loud, as though expecting an answer to come from the air.
Walking over to the gate, he peered through the bars, taking in the granite headstones. He roughly estimated that there must be about twenty or so there. Opening the gate, he winced as it squeaked open, announcing his arrival to any one who happened to be nearby. He strolled up to the first tombstone and read the name, a cold chill running through his body. Neville Longbottom. Harry walked to the next one, his legs shaking, somehow knowing whose it would be. Ginevra Weasley. He dropped to his knees next to the ornate headstone and traced the letters. Looking around, he suddenly knew when this cemetery had been founded. Most of these people had died in the final battle. People he should have been able to protect.
"I'm so sorry, Ginny. I should have been able to save you. You more than anyone else," he whispered. Harry bowed his head and closed his eyes against the tide of tears that threatened to spill over. He hadn't cried since that day and he certainly did not want to start now. Suddenly, he heard a low voice, indicating that he was not alone. He cursed his stupidity in allowing his emotional state to take precedence over his usually unassailable security measures. Standing up quickly, he scanned the area, until he saw a young boy over by the far side of the cemetery. He was sitting beside a headstone, his black hair obscuring his face. Harry watched as he laid some purple blossoms on the fresh grave. The boy looked up and Harry could have sworn that he was looking at a young Snape, as he had appeared in the Pensieve so many years ago. But knowing that was impossible, Harry concluded that this must be Snape's son.
Walking over to the gravesite, he smiled inwardly at the glare that the boy gave him. Yep, it was definitely Snape's son.
"What are doing here?" the boy asked suspiciously. "This is not a public cemetery."
"I know. I am the new DADA professor and I was just visiting some old friends." He gestured back toward the headstones near the gate.
"Oh, then you knew the Fallen," he said reverently.
"The what?" Harry asked in confusion.
"The Fallen. That's what Professor Dumbledore calls the witches and wizards that died in the final battle against the Dark Lord."
"Is that why this cemetery was built? To remember the… Fallen?" Harry almost choked on the word.
The boy nodded his head, turning his gaze back toward the headstone. "Yes, but not everyone in here died during the final battle." He reached over and straightened the blossoms that he had placed on the grave.
"Those are lovely. Delphinium, right?" Harry asked, clearly sidestepping the main question of who the grave belonged to.
The boy turned a scornful gaze on Harry. "You're kidding right? This is heather, more commonly referred to as lavender. Delphinium has darker blossoms. I thought everyone knew that." He turned his gaze back to the headstone, and his voice softened. "They were my mother's favorite. She always smelled like lavender. Do you know the meaning of lavender?"
Harry shook his head, entranced by the openness of the boy, but feeling as dim as he had in Snape's Potions classes.
"It means: admiration. My father used to give her a bouquet every morning; because he said that he admired her intelligence and passion." He turned and added mischievously, his dark eyes sparkling. "I think he just enjoyed the kiss she would give him as a thank you."
Harry smirked. That was just what he wanted to know about Snape: that he used flowers to acquire affection.
"You seem to know a lot about plants," Harry said, trying to steer the conversation away from any more anecdotes about the boy's family.
"My father is the Potions master and I've accompanied him on many trips to gather ingredients. He believes that fresh ingredients make more potent potions. I've been around plants since my birth, and I am expected to be able to differentiate between the varieties." He sneered at Harry. "Unlike some people, it seems."
Harry shoved his hands into his pockets, feeling a slight sense of discomfort at all the personal information that the boy had shared with him, as well as the fact that he had just been insulted by Snape's doppelganger. Harry's lips twitched. Well, he wanted to feel at home, and it certainly wasn't home until he was insulted by Snape, even if it did happen to be a different one. Taking a step back, he decided to end the conversation.
"Well, it's been a pleasure to meet you, but I'm sure that Professor Dumbledore is waiting for me." He turned and started walking away from the boy, intending to put as much distance between himself and the cemetery as possible.
"Wait! You never told me your name." the boy yelled. "My name is Sidney Snape. What's yours?"
"Harry Potter," he called back, not breaking his stride.
Sidney watched the figure hurrying away from him. "Harry Potter?" He looked at his mother's headstone. "Did you hear that mother? Harry Potter has returned to Hogwarts, and he's taken your job." His eyes narrowed at the thought of anyone but his mother in the DADA position, especially a saintly Gryffindor. Wait until Dominic Malfoy heard about this. He sat back and began composing a list of ways to make Harry Potter regret accepting the position, ignoring the voice that said his mother would not approve of what he was planning.
Please let me know what you think. All feedback is appreciated.
There are a couple of people I could not respond to on the new system:
Floatey948: Thank you for your kind words. I am glad that you are enjoying my story. I think you may have read my mind in regards to the romance. I hope that you like the rest of the story!
Eyeinthesky: Harry will not really be the 'nanny', because the kids are really too old for a nanny. However, he will definitely be instrumental in healing old wounds. Also, thank you for the kind compliment about the set-up of the story. It is very important to have a good base, don't you think? Thanks for the reviews! I hope you enjoy the rest of the story.
SeverusSnapePotionsMaster13: I always enjoy your reviews. Thanks for the kind words and I am looking forward to your next chapter!