Chapter Seven

Severus and Mr. Norton stood side by side in the warm July sun, stooped over the raspberry bushes on their stakes. They worked quietly together for the most part in a silence that the young wizard found rather agreeable. It helped that Becky and her glare were both well away from them.

Picking raspberries was indeed fairly delicate work. The trick was to have a light hand; if the berries were ripe, just a touch would dislodge them. If you had to actually tug on them, they weren't ripe anyway and you'd likely damage them. But Severus was neat-handed by nature; he had won much praise from Professor Sprout and Professor Slughorn for his dexterity with plants and potions ingredients. He could also work quickly; he soon had four of the smaller baskets filled in the time Mr. Norton was able to fill three.

"Well, you're doing pretty good out here, son," Mr. Norton said, as he stopped to stretch his back.

"Thank you, sir." Severus could hear the slight pops and ticks Mr. Norton's raw-boned body made as the joints and muscles relaxed. He wondered if his own body would sound like that in a few decades.

"Do you do much of this where you're from, Severus?"

"A bit. We have Herbology and Potions classes, and they often require fresh ingredients. And my mother grew herbs in her garden –"

Severus found himself unable to speak, unable even to keep picking.

Mum would have loved this place. Absolutely loved it.

"You all right, son?"

"I'm fine," Severus said, somewhat loudly. "I'm fine," he repeated, this time in a normal voice.

Mr. Norton nodded, and the two of them went back to picking raspberries.

A fifth of Severus' small baskets was filled, and then a sixth, without him saying another word. He kept his eyes and attention resolutely fixed on the raspberry bushes.

Even so, he thought he could feel Mr. Norton's gaze on him, a gaze with a force like that of Dumbledore's, almost as warm and penetrating as the Minnesota sun overhead. He guessed that Mr. Norton wanted very badly to ask him something, something dreadfully personal.

Finally, it came: "Do you have any family back home, son?"

Severus didn't look up from the bushes. "No."

There was an "Oh," from Mr. Norton, quiet and uncharacteristically subdued. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be," Severus said. He tried to keep the tremor out of his voice, but failed. "You didn't kill them."

Mr. Norton said nothing in reply; his only response was a slight, sharp inhalation of air, almost but not quite a gasp. After that, it was suddenly so quiet, or at least seemed that way, that Severus could hear the blood pulsing in his ears.

The young wizard stared straight ahead, carefully avoiding looking at Mr. Norton. He waited grimly for the interrogation that he was sure would come, the questions he didn't want to face because of the memories they'd bring in their wake.

He wasn't sure he could bear it.

He wanted to placate the Nortons, he really did. He wanted to keep them feeling friendly towards him. But Severus had sudden visions of stomping off back to the house, collecting his things, and trying to Apparate home – or at least away – even though he was a good two years at the earliest from getting his Apparition license.

But Mr. Norton said nothing more for the rest of the time that they were there.

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It was nearly three o' clock by the time Severus and the Nortons were finished picking berries. The four of them trooped back to the milking barn, sweaty and content; even Severus had worked up a mild sweat despite the Cooling Charm.

The berry baskets were set down on a long wooden work table of some sort. Mrs. Norton had fetched a cart that held a set of flat metal trays on shelves. "We'll put most of the berries on these trays to be frozen," she explained to Severus, who was looking at them somewhat dubiously. "First we go through them and get rid of any bad ones, then freeze them flat like this, so they don't touch each other. Then when they're frozen solid, we'll put them into bags for storage and for sale."

"Ah, I see – so they won't all freeze into a solid clump."

"Exactly," said Mrs. Norton, giving him a sunny smile. "What we don't freeze, we turn into jams and pies."

Severus nodded in silent approval; this would be how Slughorn would have processed fruits and other soft-bodied potions ingredients he intended to keep without drying. Except, of course, that Slughorn would not be using Muggle refrigeration to do this...

"Mrs. Norton?"

"Yes, Severus?"

"May I try a Freezing Charm on one of the trays?"

Mrs. Norton started to say something, then paused. "Oh, right – that would be just like your Cooling Charm, only stronger, wouldn't it?"

"Exactly."

"Go ahead, son," said Mr. Norton, who at that moment had just filled up one tray with raspberries. "Try it on this one," he said, carefully setting the tray on the work table.

Severus pulled out his wand from the inside pocket of his robe. He pointed it at the tray, then looked up at the Nortons, who had all crowded around the tray, eager to witness what happened next.

"You might want to keep back a bit," he said. Mr. Norton nodded, and took two steps away from the tray; Becky and Mrs. Norton followed suit.

Severus returned his attention to the tray. "Frigidio!" he cried out.

A blue blast of cold energy shimmered from the wand, hitting the tray and enveloping it; then, as fast as it had come, it dissipated. In its wake was a frosty tray of perfectly-frozen raspberries.

"I will be a dirty bird," said Mr. Norton. He grinned as he looked at Severus. "How many times can you do that, son?"

"As often as you like."

"Sarah, Becky, get the bags," Mr. Norton said, turning back to his wife and daughter, who even at that moment were bringing over a pile of clear plastic bags and what Severus guessed was some sort of sealing machine. "Let's see if we can't get these taken care of before it's time for supper."

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"That was wonderful, honey," John Norton said to his wife, setting his fork down on his empty plate with a satisfied sigh. He had just put away two large slices of chicken pie and was feeling the need to loosen the buckle on his belt.

"Thank you, dear," beamed Mrs. Norton, her blue eyes dancing, and flashed her husband a pearly-white smile.

Severus would have echoed Mr. Norton's sentiments, but his mouth was full of chicken pie. So he merely smiled and nodded.

"And I made the corn bread," Becky announced with pride.

"That you did, honey, that you did," Mr. Norton said, reaching over to tousle Becky's mop of hair. She giggled slightly, but didn't move away.

"Would you like help with the dishes, Ma'am?" Severus asked, once he'd swallowed the mouthful of chicken and washed it down with some chilled milk. (He was rather surprised to see milk on the table, and even more surprised that it was being drunk by the adults as well as Becky. Must be a farm thing, he decided.)

"That would be sweet of you, Severus," Mrs. Norton replied.

"Then Becky and I'll go out and check on the truck patch," Mr. Norton announced. "The first of the mid-season tomatoes are just about ripe."

"Check on the cabbage, too," Mrs. Norton advised. "That should be getting close to ready."

"All right, dear. Come along, Becky."

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"Well, Severus," Mrs. Norton asked as she started to gather up the dishes, "what do you think of life on the farm?"

Severus considered the question for what he hoped wasn't too long of a time. "It's... interesting," he said at last, passing his plate and glass to her.

"'Interesting'," Mrs. Norton said, a small smile on her face. "Is that like the old Chinese curse? 'May you live in interesting times'?"

"Oh, no, not like that at all. It's like home in some ways, but then it's not."

"In what ways?"

"Well..."

This was going to be difficult.

Severus had hoped to avoid talking about his parents again – it was why he'd offered to help with the dishes, instead of going out again with Mr. Norton – but it looked as if that wouldn't be possible.

He took a deep breath, counted to ten, and then spoke.

"I was brought up in a mixed household – my mother was a witch, my father was a Muggle. So we used some Muggle things, and were familiar with other things."

Just as he thought she would, Mrs. Norton picked up on his use of the past tense. "Your parents are no longer living, Severus?"

Severus paused before answering. "No." He looked out the window above the kitchen sink, and forced himself to look at the herbs in the window box, in the hope of staving off tears. Rosemary, basil, dill...

"I'm sorry, honey." Her hand lightly touched his shoulder. "I was wondering why you'd mentioned the Ministry coming to get you, and not your folks."

"My father stabbed my mother to death when I was at school," Severus said forcefully, in order to get the words out before he'd lost the nerve to say them. "She couldn't save herself, but she could hex him to death in return."

"Oh, honey!"

Her arms were about him, quickly yet gently, and he found himself pressed face-first into her bosom, warm and soft and comforting.

It had been easier than he'd thought it would be.

Easier.

Easier...

Before he could stop himself, he was crying, sobbing the way he hadn't allowed himself to cry, not when Professor Slughorn came to him with the news, certainly not around Aunt Lobelia, not even when he was alone in the Hogwarts lavatories late at night with no one to witness him.

He held onto Mrs. Norton and hugged her the way he had once hugged his own mother. The sobs came out as half-words, incoherent cries for his Mum, good-byes to her, high thin wails mercifully muffled by Mrs. Norton's warm softness. And Mrs. Norton stroked his back, rocking him gently, the way his mother had done when he was little or when he was upset.

Once the first flood of tears was done, it felt good. Good to have said it. Good to have grieved. Good to have said good-bye to his mother at last.

Slowly, as if waking from a very bad dream, he lifted his face up to look at Mrs. Norton. "Please don't tell Becky," he said, his voice steady even as the tears still glistened on his cheeks. "You can tell Mr. Norton, but please don't tell Becky. You can tell her they're dead, but not why or how."

"I understand, Severus." Mrs. Norton brushed the hair out of his face. "I understand."

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Harry had sprinted up every single staircase on the way to Dumbledore's office; he was all but panting by the time he came within sight of the gargoyles. "Filibuster," he whispered, and the guardians moved to allow him entry. He ran through the doorway as if he had been shot from a cannon.

He was definitely too distracted to notice that Ginny Weasley had followed him, at a discreet distance, the entire way. She watched him disappear into Dumbledore's office, then turned to go back the way she had come.