The Empyrean: Part II

They stood together, surrounded by a warm mist, and above them was a white, garden arch with ivy curling around it. As Petunia gazed at it the ivy moved, growing upward and blossoming with new leaves. When she looked away, it stopped. The change was very slow, but still dramatic. But this was nothing compared to what she saw when the mist cleared away. The scene that met Petunia looked as if she had stepped through clouds and entered another world, high up in the celestial spheres where angels and cherubs dwelled.

Before her was an enormous indoor garden, with a ceiling enchanted like the one at Hogwarts to look like a night sky. It was warm and balmy, a distinctly Mediterranean feel. A honey-and-sweet-hay smell permeated the air – what was it? It brought back a buried memory – ah yes – saffron! Incredible! She had attempted to cook with it only once. It was the most expensive spice she knew of. She remembered how it had turned her fingertips yellow and she could not get the stain out for weeks. But the smell of this saffron was clearly intended as a fragrance, and the additional smell of burning indicated it must be a kind of incense.

Draped along the walls, in the green bushes, and hanging from the corners of the ceiling were more ivy, lush, white roses, columbine and lilac. Similar garden arches appeared throughout the room, demarcating aisles passing from one area of the restaurant to another. In addition to the garden décor there were furnishings that shown in filigree carving along the wall panels, in candle sconces, chandeliers, and other fixtures. They were gold, silver, and crystal, somehow all existing together in a breathtaking harmony.

The floor they stood upon was a marble pathway that went down the middle aisle. The tables on either side, however, sat on what seemed to be a dark green moss that made her suddenly want nothing more than to take off her shoes and feel it between her toes. Above them in the green hangings peeked small, white lights, like Christmas lights, adding to the impression of being outside at night. Instantly, Petunia began to be very afraid that she was underdressed. She looked down at the cocktail dress she had chosen for the evening, which seemed a safe choice for several scenarios.

She was surprised to note how well it fit the theme, and she thought she couldn't have done much better if she'd known ahead of time where they would be going. The dress was a modestly fitted skirt that flared out just near the knee. It was a pale satin blue, and the top was held on the shoulders with sparkling silver spaghetti straps. She wore the shoes from the conclave; she wondered if Severus would notice.

Her hair she had pulled back as usual, but she'd left some of the back out so that it fell over and behind her shoulders, accenting the tendrilled locks that framed her face. She wore a silver bun cap and two small clips on either side of her head that were shaped like butterflies. The whole ensemble, she thought, made her feel like a young Greek maiden or a nymph. It was enough to make her wonder if the idea had been subconsciously implanted in her mind, it was such a happy coincidence.

But she did not have long to wonder about this. Coming down the aisle with a soft swishing sound was a regal-looking older woman with dark hair and a long dress that brushed along the floor. She had an enormous smile on her face as if Christmas had come early, and she walked right up to Severus and clasped his hand, obviously beyond happy to see him.

"Hello, Audrey."

"Headmaster!" The woman exclaimed. "How wonderful! We've been hoping you would come by. You're welcome any time, you know that."

"That's very generous of you, Audrey. I realize advance reservations are preferred, but I thought perhaps I would see if there were an open table this evening for us. I hope it is not terribly inconvenient."

"No! No!" she shrieked, seeming desperate to convince him. "In fact, we have made it a policy to always keep a table available for you in the quietest, nicest corners in the event that you might grace us with your presence."

Petunia looked at Severus and could see that he looked a little embarrassed at this.

"How fortunate. Thank you."

"May I be the one to seat you? And who is your enchanting companion?" said Audrey, looking at Petunia with genuine interest. Petunia smiled and nodded, holding out her hand, which Audrey took, squeezing the ends of her fingers with a sort of delicate intimacy.

"This is Petunia Dursley," Severus said, and when she realized no further explanation was forthcoming, Audrey returned to business. "If you'll follow me, Headmaster." She gathered her skirt and swept down the aisle, looking very much like she was gliding to Petunia. Never did learn that skill, she thought a little grumpily. But she was quickly immersed in her surroundings again, and she had to make an effort to keep up with them as she kept looking around and slowing down.

Audrey led them down the middle aisle to the left, then right down another aisle, and finally, right to a more secluded area of the restaurant. It was made to look like a patio, although the floor was still that wonderful most that Petunia longed to bury her toes in. This area was only a few tables set far apart, and the room was a step down further from the main floor, like a den. Railings on other side were covered with little lights and ivy, marking the area as semi-private. Audrey stepped down carefully and brought them to a corner table that Petunia thought looked particularly romantic; it was tucked away in its own enclave, the walls curving around the plush, violet seats. A round, squat, frosted candle holder sat lit in the middle, and the table appeared to already be set for two.

"How is this?" Said Audrey eagerly.

"Excellent, thank you."

Audrey looked pleased beyond reason that he seemed so easily satisfied.

"Now, we have the table set to self serve and replenish, and there are menus there – " she nodded at the two long menus that stood on each side of the table. "But if want to be served directly, simply drop a note in the candle and we will be with you right away. Unless you'd prefer to have a private server?"

"No, this will do perfectly. Thank you, Audrey. And please give my good wishes to your husband."

"I will, oh I will. Frank will be so glad when he hears that you patronized us today! He's been hoping you'd come."

Severus smiled broadly, but Petunia could tell it was a polite, strained smile; the kind you gave to people who you hoped would soon go away. Fortunately, Audrey clearly had other places to be, and took her exit.

"Won't you sit down, Petunia?"

Severus said, indicating the chair closest her, and she blushed and sat as he stood behind it, holding it straight for her. She had the distinct feeling that he had been determined to make this gesture before she beat him to it by seating herself. Severus sat opposite her and folded his arms at the table, looking around them.

"Do you like it?" he said, looking at her nervously.

"How can I not? Who knew you had so much clout in high society that a place like this would keep a table free just for you?" Petunia exclaimed, laughing. He looked a little embarrassed again.

"Yes, well…as you've seen, now and then my fame from the events of last year has its perks. But I rarely make use of them."

"Then I'm glad I could be your opportunity," she said meaningfully. They looked at each other and looked down again, both laughing awkwardly.

"I am not used to this kind of attention, Severus. I hope I'm not making a fool of myself."

"Hardly," he said with true surprise that she could even think this. "This is all new for me."

"What is? This kind of restaurant? Or – you mean, going on a date?" She wondered allowed. He said nothing, but she could tell she had guessed correctly. "Do you mean to say – you have never dated at all?"

"Never," he said without hesitation, watching her. She was flooded with questions but wasn't sure if she should ask them.

"Well…if I may ask…why ever not?" she said carefully. Severus smiled a little sadly.

"I didn't want to. Not with just anyone. And I never – met anyone I felt – curious about," he finished awkwardly. It occurred to Petunia that he was trying not to mention Lily's name; it was clear that he was saying he had never loved anyone else but her. Her heart sank, but she tried to ignore it. If he didn't want you, he wouldn't have asked you, she told herself firmly.

"I see," she said, taking her menu and pretending to look down at it. For some inexplicable reason, her eyes started to prick with tears. Not now, not now! What are you doing Petunia?! Severus seemed to pick up that they had gotten mired in a difficult subject, for the both of them.

"And then," he said, picking up his wine glass, which instantly filled, "I met you."

Petunia looked up at him, her eyes shining. A smile broke upon her face.

"If I had known, Petunia," Severus continued, "how thoroughly you would upend my life, I would have been a lot keener to keep you out of Hogwarts last fall."

"Upend? How?"

"Oh, don't worry. I'm only half serious. Besides, there's another factor that is worth mentioning; I would have continued in devoted misery, never saying a word to you about it, if it were not for certain interested parties that made that impossible."

"Ahhh…." Petunia said knowingly, intrigued. "Held your feet to the fire, did they?"

"That is a very apt description." Petunia pondered this.

"You must have some very loyal friends," she remarked. Severus looked a little surprised, as if he had not considered this.

"Yes, I suppose I do..."

Petunia was happy to let Severus make selections from the menu for her, and she could tell that this put him at ease, as well. He prefers being in control, she thought. Can't blame him. But it made things easier for the both of them. Once they had made their decisions, their food and drinks appeared, much like they did at Hogwarts. Petunia wondered if there were kitchens beneath, with house elves.

Even though their conversation was still tentative at times, the food, wine, and desserts were so interesting, and so beautifully arranged, that they always had that, at least, to comment on when one of them fell silent. Petunia really was enjoying herself; not only was she being treated to an obviously very exclusive restaurant, but it was also a magical one. She could not help looking around at the decorations now and then as they ate. At one point, an enormous, cloud-like figure shaped as bearded man in a toga bent down from the ceiling over them.

"Probably Zeus or Jupiter," Severus noted, enjoying her fascination.

"Incredible," she whispered as the cloud giant Zeus reached through and below the floor and reemerged with a stroke of lightning that burst over their table and fell softly, like miniature fireworks.

She did manage to learn more about him, and much of what she learned surprised her. Severus told her that his father had been a muggle, and his mother was the magical one. She had not expected him to have any ties to the muggle world; he showed little interest in anything muggle-related, and often seemed to not even know much about any of it. When she pointed this out, he told her that he had spent much of his childhood years in his head and had despised his father. Although things like televisions and cars were not strange to him, he had mostly avoided them.

As much as he could, he would run off to be with Lily and talk about magic. When he was alone, he read and learned everything he could. He turned out to have a knack for potions when he arrived at Hogwarts, and he always half wondered if that was simply because he was good at paying attention to the directions. But Petunia was sure it was more than that. She listened with wide-eyed amazement as he told her about spells he created. And then, a bit reluctantly at first, he told her about James Potter and the "marauders."

"They tormented me every moment they could," he said matter-of-factly. "I never really understood why they hated me so much. But," he admitted, "I did my share of hating them, too. Especially James." He stopped then, and Petunia could tell he was not sure if it was wise to continue talking about anything that would bring them back around to Lily. But she wanted to go there. She was afraid of what she would see, but she needed to know – had he finally gotten over Lily? And was his interest in her truly genuine, or was it some kind of perverse way of staying connected to her sister?

"Why did you and Lily become estranged? Was it only because of James?"

"No," he said, a tortured look in his eyes. "It was," he continued slowly, "something terrible I'd done. Something I said. The kind of thing you cannot unsay."

Petunia nodded. She knew what that was like. In fact, she'd said a few of those things to Lily herself, and later, to her nephew. They were quiet a moment. Petunia felt she owed him an explanation for bringing them to such a painful topic.

"You and I have been dancing around the subject of Lily for some time," she said, and he nodded somberly. "Perhaps it's time we talked about it and faced it head on."

"As you wish," he said simply. Petunia sighed.

"How strange," she murmured. "You and I both connected through such strong, terrible – well, jealousy, in our own way but for the same person."

"I sometimes think that's part of what attracted me to you."

"Because I knew what it felt like…"

"To be overlooked."

Now the silence between them felt like a bond, as if their conversation had continued without words.

"I – cultivate a coldness, as you well know, not because I don't experience feelings."

"No," she agreed. "Because your feelings are so powerful, so deep, that if you were to let them out you might drown, and bring others with you."

"Yes," he whispered. His eyes grew wide. "How do you know that?"

She smiled sadly.

"How do you think?" Unlike you, however, I think I was in denial about it all this time. I could not afford to be passionate. It was too great a risk. It was a luxury that would not serve me well in life, or so I thought. And I so, so wanted to have a 'normal' life, a sense of safety and security, and most of all, a place where I belonged," she finished. She was beginning to feel a great sense of relief as she made these confessions and listened to his. It was as if an enormous, knotted rope were beginning to loosen and uncoil inside her. She looked at his face and saw that it was the same for him.

How odd, a detached voice within her observed. What does it say to feel so comfortable with him that you don't even need words? How could that be? In spite of the fact that he was, in some ways, one of the most frightening people she'd ever met, here she was, sympathizing with him on a level few could, and closer to him than he had let anyone else get in years. She looked fully into his eyes, searching, questioning, holding his gaze. He let her. Then he spoke.

"And so you married Vernon Dursley."

"Yes." She smiled a little at the memory, though it was also a sad one. "Vernon was the first person who had ever treated me like I was the most wonderful thing he'd ever seen. He was afraid I would be snapped up by someone else if he didn't act first." She snorted at this, as if she thought his fears were ridiculous. "He made me feel like a princess and a genius all at once. It was like he worshipped me," she continued, and felt a little embarrassed about this. "He was the most extraordinary ordinary man I'd ever met, and he completely swept me off my feet."

"Well, he could not have deserved you. You are a rare woman, Petunia, and he was nothing but a common oaf of a man."

As soon as the words were out, she could see he knew he'd made a terrible mistake. She tried to smile, then turned away, wiping tears from her eyes. Out of the corner of her eye she could see that he was mortified, and probably punishing himself in his head. It was funny, even though she couldn't exactly laugh at the moment.

"I'm so sorry, Petunia. I'm sorry. That was horribly insensitive of me. I didn't mean to – "

"It's all right," she said, and a little bitterness crept into her voice. "It's what everyone thinks, anyway."

"Tell me about him," he pleaded, his eyes boring into hers with earnest. Petunia smiled wistfully as she remembered.

"Vernon was adorable. Perhaps not the most strong, manly physique, but when I met him, he had a kind of presence that drew people to him." She was twirling her fork on her table, lost in thought. Severus had gone completely still, all his attention focused completely on her, devouring her every word. "He was quite charismatic, actually. And he was a little rough around the edges, you know, tough on people… the way his father raised him to be. But with me he was so gentle, so tender, and so grateful…" She trailed off. "And I was so empty inside, and it was like I was holding myself together as tightly as I could, because otherwise I might…"

"Break," he finished for her. She nodded.

"So I let him into my life, and into my heart. I let him love me, Severus. And though it might not have looked like the most romantic love to anyone else, I loved him, too. And that's my secret, that love between us that no one noticed or believed was there." Now the tears were streaming steadily down her face, and it did not seem they would stop anytime too. She smiled at him, her voice catching in her throat. He nodded slowly, and she knew he understood.

"Vernon Dursley was a very lucky man," he finally said. "Clearly, he did deserve you…not that it's my opinion that matters. But you also deserved him, Petunia. You deserved to be loved like that. I'm so glad that you had him for all those years."

"Really?" she sniffed, laughing nervously. "You don't mind me talking about him that way?"

"Of course not," he said, looking shocked that she could imagine such a thing. "You lived a whole life with this man – he was your partner, your companion in life. And it's still so recently that you lost him," he acknowledged mournfully.

"Yes," she whispered, and a fresh burst of tears spilled down her face. Severus looked as though he wanted to comfort her, to reach over and dry her eyes and hold her, but he was holding back, unsure if it was the right thing to do. She knew he meant to show respect to make up for the comment he'd made earlier, and she appreciated his carefulness.

"Are you – are you all right? Do you want to leave?" He asked, clearly worried.

"Oh no, Severus. I'm fine," she chuckled, wiping her tears away with her napkin. "It's just grief. It's how it is."

"With his loss so recent…" He trailed off. She knew what he wanted to ask: Was he pursuing her in vain?

"It's all right. I had a long, full life with him, just like you said. It might not have been perfect, but we went through it together. Now he's passed, and at the same time, I feel very certain that I am beginning a new one, one that has yet to reveal itself. I know there will be moments, like this one, when the thought of him brings me to tears, but I am ready. I have no doubt about that."

"Incredible," he murmured with obvious deep respect. "How you can do that – end one chapter of your life and start another with a fresh page, dragging nothing of the past with you into the future. How do you do it?" Petunia shrugged, not sure what to make of this comment. She figured it must be more about himself than her.

"I do it because I must," she said simply. "And more importantly, why waste time? What more is there to wait for? My son is grown and on his own, and I am a single woman again, looking after myself – responsible to no one, but myself. There's no reason for me to fear the future, to play it safe and try not to shake things up. I've already made it this far. What could be more exciting than starting over, wiser than when you began?"

"Seems I could learn from you," said Severus, almost as if to himself. She smiled.

"Perhaps. About a number of things, even."

Severus's eyes had widened ever so slightly, and the look he gave her was something between awe and disbelief. He sniffed as if he wanted to laugh, scrutinized her again, and shook his head, finally chuckling out loud. Petunia sipped her wine with perfect poise, feeling very pleased with herself for her fearlessness.

"Don't look so scandalized, Severus," she said, putting her glass down. "You've already seen what happens when you pair me with wine."

"Hmm. Sure. I'm sure that's only the wine talking."

"Only the wine."

"Naturally."

When they left the restaurant, it felt late. There were fewer patrons than when they'd first arrived. Petunia wondered what time it was, but she really didn't want to know. Severus suggested that they walk back to Hogwarts unless she preferred to ride. She said she thought an evening walk would be nice. She walked with her arm in his, ambling along as if neither of them was in much of a hurry.

He stopped in the middle of the path when the school came into view.

The doors to the school were closed, and it seemed that everyone had gone inside for the evening.

"Would you like me to walk you back to your room?" Severus asked.

"Why, where are you going?"

"I have a home off the grounds; I usually prefer to sleep there. But I must apparate."

"Right," she remembered. "No that's not necessary. I enjoy walking, especially when it's quiet and a beautiful night like this." Severus looked uncertain and a little guilty.

"Perhaps I should – I shouldn't even have asked – "

"Go on, Severus! It's all right!" She laughed. "It's safe out here, isn't it? And besides, we'll see each other in the morning?" Severus's face cleared.

"Yes, in the morning…of course."

"Very good then. This is where we'll say good night. For now."

As if he had been planning this moment, Severus took her hand and brought it to his lips, closing his eyes and giving it a lingering kiss before he let it go. The feel of his lips on her skin rendered her nearly breathless.

"You really do know how to romance a woman, Severus."

He blushed furiously and she had to stop herself from laughing, but she could see the happiness blazing in his eyes.

"Good night."

"Good night, Petunia."


Severus walked in a daze until he found himself on the Quidditch field. He let himself fall backward onto the damp ground and lay there, like someone making a snow angel, gazing at the star-studded sky. Somewhere up there was a star formation that predicted his destiny – according to the centaurs. Petunia was part of it. If he could read the stars as they did, he would find her there. Although he was not one to put a lot of stock in that particular form of divination, the sentiment seemed right for the moment. How else could he explain what had happened?

Only this morning, he had let her know of his feelings and asked her to dinner with him…and she had said yes. He had fully expected to be rejected; it was just a question of how gently she would be able to do it so that he could still save face. He had not even considered or imagined she would accept; he had done it only because he wanted her to know his feelings, and of course, because he had been strong-armed into giving it a chance.

After a moment of blissful reminiscing, a large, dark shadow fell across him, and the enormous form of Hagrid blocked his view of the star. Lupin's face appeared on the opposite side. They were looking very self-satisfied. Severus groaned.

"Go away."

Remus and Hagrid, who smelled like ale, chuckled.

"Now yer knew we'd 'ave to come and see how things went," said Hagrid.

"From the looks of him, I'd say they'd gone rather well." Remus waggled his eyebrows and grinned in the most infuriating manner, but Severus could think of nothing to say. He'd been avoiding them all day. In the morning, the moment he left Petunia after she agreed to go out with him, he had sent a swift paper airplane message that read simply, She said yes. Then he had shut himself in the Headmaster's office until he was able to accept that yes, that indeed had happened, and now he must make plans for their evening together. Mercifully, they'd left him alone the whole day…not even a message in response. Whether because they were all busy or they were giving him space, he could not say…but at any rate, that was obviously over now.

"Should I be expecting anyone else to this party?" Severus asked wearily.

"Nah. Jus' the two of us," Hagrid answered, beaming.

"We'll leave you alone soon enough, Severus…we know you've had a busy night – " this was punctuated by irritating chuckles from the both of them. " – But you've simply got to give us something, or the women will be after you next, and you know they will be much, much worse!" Remus prodded. Severus sighed.

"Well, what do you want to know?"

Hagrid and Remus looked at each other. Hagrid shrugged.

"Well," started Remus, "Just – do you think there will be a second date?"

"I hadn't gotten that far yet," Severus muttered. It was true, to his chagrin, and them reminding him of it was starting to make him panic.

"But do yer think you'll see each other again, you know…whenever it is. Are ye – "
"Yes. Yes, Hagrid. We left on a very positive note, and I should think we will – see where it goes," Severus finished reluctantly. He hoped this would get them off his back. It seemed to work.

"Excellent, excellent, Severus!" Remus rubbed his hands together, his grin taking over his entire face. "That is wonderful! I'm so happy for you!"

"We all are! Jus' wait till we tell the girls – "

"Look," Severus said seriously, sitting up on his elbows. "I appreciate the enthusiasm, but it was hard enough asking her the first time. If you all keep badgering me, I may lose my nerve and mess it up. So could you just please –"

"Yes. Of course."

"Righ'. Enough's enough." Hagrid cleared his throat as if they were returning to matters of business. "Well then, Professor Lupin, le's go celebrate with a drink! Slughorn'll want to hear about this, and the ladies of course…"

"All right. We'll leave you be, Severus, but on one condition: If anything goes wrong, if you think you could use some advice or anything like that, please…please come to one of us. Don't just sit on it yourself. All right?"

"That's asking an awful lot. A man has a right to his privacy, doesn't he?"

"We're jus' sayin' we're here to help, if yer should want it. That's all," Hagrid explained.

"Right. Well, let's let the man be. But Severus – "

Severus had fallen back on the grass and was staring up past them.

"Yes?"

"You do know you've got to tell us all about the date at some point, right? I mean you will, won't you?"

"Pretty please?!" Hagrid added, batting his eyes. Severus closed his eyes and covered them with one hand as if he had just gotten a terrible headache.

"I'll put it in the Pensieve," he finally conceded, after considering for several minutes.

"Good enough, good enough. Let's be goin' Remus!" Then the two of them were gone, leaving him alone with the sky again. They could not have had better timing with their exit. Severus's eyes were suddenly pricking with un-spilt tears, and he could not stop the smile that spread across his face. Somehow, though he'd hated every moment of it, telling them things had gone well had finally made it all more real to him. He gazed at the stars and was overwhelmed with gratitude.