They Didn't Know We Were Seeds
A few days after Scabior's duel, Lily asks Severus to take a stroll around the lake with her. He takes a look out a window and sees that the sky is blue and clear; spring finally looks to be here to stay after the long winter. Severus agrees. "Let me grab my cloak."
Half an hour later, when they are on the far side of Black Lake and out of earshot of other students walking around the lake or sitting near the waters, Lily asks, "When are you going to talk with your grandfather?"
He whips head around to look straight at Lily, a feeling of incredulity overcoming him. "What do you mean?"
She sighs and starts to drum her fingers along her thigh. After another beat of silence, she says, "I know what he did to you was awful and I'm very upset with him on your behalf, but Severus…" she slowly lifts her gaze and looks at him, eyes regretful. "We might need him later. He knows about us and can get an idea of what's going on with the Death Eaters and their cause if and when we need him to."
Severus scrubs a hand across his face. Lily's the last one he expected to hear this from. Before now, he thought he wouldn't have to deal with his grandfather and make "nice" until he went home for the summer and his Aunt Vesta (or maybe his mother) noticed the terseness of their interactions. Quietly, Severus suggests, "We could always obliviate him. He's served his purpose – helping me stop Mum from killing Adam Parkinson."
Lily frowns. "What if we need him again later?"
"I… Am certain we can think of another solution that does not involve him."
She puts a hand on his shoulder. "Even if we do, you're still going to have to see him again. He's your grandfather and he and your aunt are close." Lily's voice gentles as she pulls him into a side embrace. "I hope you don't think I'm pressuring you to sweep everything under the rug. I want what's best for you, Sev. If that means you hold off talking to your grandfather, that's your choice and I support you. I just think if you do it now, you'll be able to do it on your own terms more than you will at the Montagues – your aunt has a way of springing things on you."
"She means well," mumbles Severus into her floral scented hair.
Lily vibrates with a soft laugh. "Family usually does."
When they finally separate from their embrace, he says, "I'll speak to him before the school year is over. Just – Just not right now. It's still too raw."
She nods. "Okay." Then, gripping her hand in hers, she grins and says, "Now that that nasty business is out of the way, shall we finish our stroll talking about pleasant things?" As they slowly begin to walk once more, Lily chatters, "Do you remember my uncle who visited my family for Christmas? Well, just like last time, at the ripe old age of thirty-eight, he's finally giving up his bachelor life to marry a very nice lady from Brisbane. Mum and Dad are discussing if they will both go to the wedding next autumn or if Dad will stay home with 'Tuney and only Mum will go, since Uncle John is her brother…"
-o-O-o-
As he stirs his porridge with one hand and props his chin on the back of the other, Severus stares at the sparsely populated Hufflepuff table. It's not quite seven in the morning yet and seeing as it's a Saturday, almost all students are still in bed. Of the few there, none are from his year. There are a few sixth-years near one end talking over a couple of textbooks and loose pieces of parchment, a couple of firsties at the other end, flicking bits of rolls at each other and giggling and near the middle is a lone third-year.
It piques Severus's interest immediately, Hufflepuffs on average are a sociable breed. Even the shyest usually have at least one friend nearby at any given time. For one to be so alone as the girl there… It sets off an instinct Severus's time as a professor, spy, Death Eater, and son of a drunkard has taught him not to ignore. He focuses in on the younger student. The distance between him and her makes it a little difficult to pick out the finer details about her, but even from here Severus can see she is on the smaller, heavier-set side. Her short, tan fingers pick at a scone, occasionally plucking what might be a blueberry or some other small fruit from the massacred pastry, and push it past her full lips.
Severus finds he's slightly repulsed by the process. The lack of decorum in the way she eats makes him feel embarrassed for her mother. Surely she taught her daughter how to eat like a witch rather than a beast? Unable to watch any longer, he looks away from her eating only to notice the book floating to the third-year's right. Severus frowns; the girl is reading Charms of Defence and Deterrence. Why in Merlin's name is she reading that? The dueling competition has long been over for her (and everyone else). It's also unlikely she's reading it for a charms essay as Flitwick spends little time on battle-charms with younger years. It's only as they advance into their OWL year he begins to include a whole unit on them to give students a taste of what sixth and seventh-year charms shall hold for them should they pass the end of the year test.
He starts to systematically go through the storage banks of his mind to try and recall just who this girl is. A few options come to mind. The girl shakes off a finger and brings it to scratch the flat bridge of her nose. Sudden certainty overtaking Severus, he thinks, 'That's Priscilla Rookwood.' Neice of Augustus Rookwood, wife of Bernard Crabbe, and mother to Vincent Crabbe. He stares. While her son had been a bit on the dim side, Rookwood had seemed to be of more or less average intelligence when they were students at Hogwarts.
She'd also been rather meek. Severus always suspected that came from the fact rumors had been flying around since long before the girl came to Hogwarts that she was only a Rookwood in name. They said her mother had an affair with her superior at the Ministry and that is why she looks nothing like her thin, red-haired father. Severus learned to later scoff at the rumors once he saw her mother in Diagon Alley one summer. Rookwood mother is small and curvy just as her daughter is; the girl may be darker than both of her parents, but it's not difficult to see that she is still lighter than her maternal grandfather, who'd been nearly as dark as Blaise Zabini.
Severus always reckoned it was the rumors that led her to marry Bernard Crabbe. The man is a brute and exceedingly dull. Any witch of good standing who knew her worth stayed far away from him. Unfortunately for Rookwood, after a lifetime of others doubting her roots and the purity of her blood, she lost all confidence and self-respect and allowed herself to be wooed by the first man who wasn't bothered by the gossip.
He supposes he should pity her, but he can't. She stood by her husband through his atrocities and let her son become a bully and then Death-Eater, just like his father.
"Hello, Severus," a familiar voice says to his left.
Severus's gaze snaps away from the future Mrs. Crabbe and to Clara Parkinson. "Hello," he returns.
Sitting down on his right, she begins to levitate toast and eggs onto her plate. "What has you up so early?" asks she.
He shrugs. "I have a project I'm working on." He takes a bite of his porridge. "And you?"
Her eyes drift to the entrance to the Great Hall. "I'm waiting for Benjy. We are going to spend the day in Hogsmeade together."
Severus nods. Then curiously, because as much as he's figured out about Clara's life given what's happening now and what he knows from his previous life, the dates of things are still rather fuzzy, he asks, "Are you two going to marry right after you graduate?"
Clara bites her lip. "Maybe. I'd like to. But…"
"What?"
She ducks her head. "He hasn't proposed yet."
He makes an appropriately sympathetic noise and puts down his spoon to reach across the table and touch her hand. "There's another month and half of school yet, don't give up on him just yet." He smirks, an idea coming to him. "Perhaps he'll propose today. What better place than Hogsmeade?"
The seventh-year's lips twitch. "Where indeed? As long as it's not in Madam Puddifoot's, I will be happy."
Severus chuckles. "Not a fan, are you?" he inquires.
Clara crinkles her nose and says, "There's far too much pink."
"Where has too much pink?"
They both turn their heads to see Benjy standing just a few steps away from Clara, a hand propped on his hip and a playful grin on his lips. Clara's whole body responds to the sight of him; she twists her torso towards him, the rigid shape of her shoulders loosens, and her eyes dilate with pleasure. "Madam Puddifoot's," she answers. "It reminds me of a little girl's room." Getting to her feet, she presses a kiss to his cheek before linking hands with him. "Anyhow, are you ready to go?"
"Sure am," he replies. Tipping his head at Severus he says, "Severus."
He nods back. "Benjy." Severus then looks at Clara. "Goodbye, Clara."
She waves with her free hand. "I suppose I'll see you at dinner," replies the seventh-year.
As they start to turn away, Severus is reminded of shy little Hufflepuff reading at her house's table when he catches a glimpse of her as Clara and Benjy move, making her visible to him once more. "Hey!" he calls out to the couple.
The pair look over their shoulders at him, near-identical looks of curiosity on their faces. "Yes?" Clara asks for the both of them.
"Do you… Do you know anything about Priscilla Rookwood?" questions Severus, jerking his head in the direction of her.
They look at her. "I can't say I know much at all," Clara replies. "She keeps to herself – not that it's a surprise." She sighs. "I'm sure the rumors have made it hard to make friends."
Benjy draws his girlfriend closer and says, "I really don't pay much mind to younger years' gossip." He hesitates a moment, but then tells Severus, "But last year's Head Boy was talking about how he caught her in the restricted section late one night. He was more bewildered by how she got in there without getting caught over what she was doing, however."
"Hmmm…" is all Severus gives in reply.
Clara smiles at him. "Looking for a new little protege, are you?"
He blinks at her, unsure what Clara is on about. Protege? Severus has never had one, how could he possibly be looking for another? "What?"
She and Benjy share a glance and laugh. "You don't think anyone's noticed, do you?"
"Noticed what?" Severus demands, a bit annoyed now. Though, it is more with himself than the couple. He should not have such trouble understanding what they are talking about – especially when it has to do with him.
Benjy grins. "No one says much – you've got Narcissa Black to thank for that – but everyone has picked up on the way you gather students like a herding dog gathers sheep." He juts a thumb toward the professors' table. "I'm sure they have too."
He frowns a little. "There's nothing wrong with making connections."
"Of course not," Clara concurs. "Sometimes you're just a little obvious about it."
Severus can't help but glance at the professors. Quietly, he murmurs, "Everyone knows?"
"It's a good thing, really, Severus," insists Clara; her fingers nervously twisting in her skirt. "They'll no doubt consider you for a prefect next year and later, Head Boy!"
He is not keen on being either; it will interfere with his own endeavors, but now is not the time to make that known. There may never be a good time – it would be peculiar for a boy like he's made himself out to be to not want such responsibility or prestige. So, Severus nods and reluctantly agrees. "Yes, I reckon you're right."
Clara relaxes once more. "You'll make a splendid prefect, if that's what you're fretting about. You're so very good with difficult students like Scabior and Black."
"Thank you," replies Severus.
Benjy clears his throat. "Clara, love, it's time we get going."
"Ah, yes." She steps away from her boyfriend to place a friendly kiss on his cheek. "It was lovely chatting with you, Severus."
A little too stunned by the sudden familiarity, he mutely dips his chin in agreement. When the pair turns away, leaving him alone, his fingers go to his cheek. The place where Clara kissed him is warm. He ducks his head and lets his fingers curl against the spot, almost as if he's trying to trap the feeling there. As he picks up his spoon with his other hand, Severus absently thinks of the handful of other kisses he's received over the course of his two lifetimes. This one, Clara's, reminds him greatly of Lily's.
Severus is not entirely sure what to think of that or what he will do with the new information.
-o-O-o-
Hours later, when he is all but alone in Slytherin's common room furiously finishing the last of an essay by candle-light, a soft voice calls, "Severus!"
He looks up to see Clara's bright, flushed face. It's by far the most gleeful he's ever seen the Parkinson girl. He feels his lips twitch with a smile; clearly, something truly wonderful has happened to the seventh-year and she looks fit to burst from it. Putting down his quill for the moment, he returns, "'Lo Clara."
She falls into the chair across from him and positions her hands in such a way atop the table that he is drawn to look at them. On her left ring-finger there is a slim gold band with a sizable round-cut diamond shimmering warmly in the common room's dim light. He stares at it a moment longer before he slowly raises his gaze to meet Clara's.
Without prompting, she says, "It was his grandmother's. Isn't it just lovely?"
Severus grins. "Congratulations."
"I was certain you were in on the proposal," she tells him, laughing joyously. "You predicted it so well this morning!"
He joins in with her laughter for a moment. "It was not so difficult," deflects Severus. "Hogsmeade is a perfect place for a proposal."
She giggles girlishly and reaches for the hand that lays near Severus's quill. After she takes hold, she gives it a squeeze and says, "We plan to marry a week after graduation." Faint lines starting on her brow as anxiety takes hold, she asks, "I was wondering if you would be my witness for our wedding? It's going to be a small affair. You, me, Benjy, and Benjy's best mate, Clarence Bones – maybe his girlfriend too, if she'd like to accompany him."
"I… Are you sure?" Severus asks. "There's not a better friend you would rather have there to celebrate with you?"
Clara shakes her head. "No," she answers. "You started it all at the Slugclub party and have given me unwavering support since then. There is no one else I would rather have there with me."
Well, then. If that's how the seventh-year feels, he will be Clara's witness. It would be horribly rude to decline at this rate, anyhow. He grips Clara's hands strongly with his own. "I would be honored."
The Parkinson (soon to be Fenwick) girl beams with relief and delight.
Some very interesting (and happy) developments this chapter, no? Which one did you all like best? I was quite partial to Benjy and Clara's engagement myself. Also, as you may be able to tell, year four is (finally!) winding down. I figure if everything goes accordingly we'll have two or three more chapters after this one, then we'll be onto the summer, and after that, fifth year! I hope that's as exciting for you guys as that is for me :)
Thank you guys a million for reading, I appreciate it and all of your favorites, follows, and reviews so, so much!