They Didn't Know We Were Seeds

"Ah, Priscilla, there you are! Come here and say hello to our guest," her grandma calls out to her as she passes by the lounge room her grandma and Demitri are using to catch up with each other. She rolls her eyes to the ceiling and bites back a sigh. Priscilla had hoped to not be sucked into more than typical dinner conversation with Demitri, but it doesn't seem she'll be getting her way (what else is new?). Making a quarter turn, she puts on a smile for her grandma and Demitri.

"Yes, Grandma," she agrees. "How do you do, Mr. Prince?" she asks while perching herself on the edge of an ottoman to the right of her grandma's chair.

Demitri smiles at her. "Well, thank you." He looks from Priscilla to her grandma, eyes bright, as he says, "My, you've become quite the lady since I last saw you, haven't you, Priscilla?"

She grits her teeth and replies, "Thank you, sir."

Her grandma grins. "She has!" she says, clapping her hands together in delight. As always, she's all too excited to talk about Priscilla, her one and only darling grandchild. "It's such a shame her father doesn't have more acquaintances with sons for her to meet."

The old man strokes the white hairs of his beard, eyes glittering with amusement meant for only Priscilla to understand as he remarks, "Hmm… Yes. Of course, I know a rather clever boy she may find agreeable."

The joy on her grandmother's face disappears faster than a coward apparating away from a fight. It takes a lot more will than she'll admit to not shout at Demitri for making her Grandma uncomfortable. In a murmur, the woman stammers, "Oh, oh, that's quite all right, Demitri—"

Eyes brighter than even before in their private humor, Demitri breaks in over Priscilla's grandma to say, "Do you remember my cousin's daughter, Vesta? She has a son about Priscilla's age." He is smiling as he looks at her grandma. Conversationally, he tells her, "Sage is a very thoughtful young man. I'm sure he would suit a girl like your granddaughter well."

The unease fades away from her grandma's expression and her lips begin to curl up in friendliness once again. Priscilla hates it. Demitri has gone purposefully out of his way to make her feel like she is the one who misunderstood by subtly teasing Priscilla. Her grandma does not deserve to have her feelings played with in such a way. It can't be good for her heart and that's the one thing Priscilla has come back to protect. As much as she wants to speak up, however, Priscilla does not. Instead, she settles for curling her chipped, uneven fingernails into the folds of her skirt while Grandma says, a little breathily, "Oh. Yes, I do remember her. Didn't her eldest just marry a Parkinson girl?"

Demitri nods, a bit of pride coloring his voice as he answers, "Boyd did. His mother's very pleased."

Priscilla's grandma sighs, her hands going to her cheeks as she mumbles, "It's such a shame their younger daughter had to run off with that half-blood so soon after…"

Demitri strokes his beard again and crosses his legs. "Hm, yes," he mutters, looking away from them, "It's quite fortunate their elder children are already wed."

"It really is," Grandma replies in tandem with a somber nod.

In the silence that follows her grandmother's agreement, Priscilla sees her chance to escape the company of the two (really, it's just Demitri she wants away from, but if her grandma is with him, she wants nearly as little to do with her too). At a volume that's far from ladylike, Priscilla clears her throat, drawing both of their distant gazes back to the room and her. Her grandma raises a single brow in question, prompting her to say what she wants.

"Grandma?" she murmurs, tone lilting with a question.

"Yes, Priscilla?" the woman replies.

"There is a book," she says, eyes darting to the hall visible just past the room's open doorway, "I was going to retrieve it from the library to use for my Herbology essay."

Her grandma's hands immediately fly up from her lap and begin to flap at her to leave. "Of course," she says. "I understand. Go on, dear, thank you for taking a moment to humor your old grandmother."

Priscilla is quick to take her grandma up on her offer and rise to her feet. Before she makes her escape, however, Demitri uncrosses his legs and puts his hands on the arms of his chair. "Pardon me for the intrusion, but if you would let me, I'd like to accompany you, Priscilla. I'd like to speak with you about what topics are interesting for the youth of today. My grandson's birthday is quickly approaching and I still need to purchase him a gift." As he pushes himself up from his seat, he looks at Priscilla's grandma, eyes regretful, "You don't mind, do you, Vivian?"

She chuckles and shakes her head. "Oh no! Go on, go on. I'll call for Broot to bring us tea in the meantime."

Priscilla bites back a groan. There go her plans of escaping this man until Voldemort and the Lestranges' arrival.

The old man reaches over and lays his hand on top of one of her grandma's a moment. "Thank you," he says before standing and looking to Priscilla to take charge and lead them from the room. With a none too hidden distasteful sigh, she does just that.

-O-

When they are half a corridor away from the lounge room her grandma is using and out of her hearing range, Priscilla looks up at Demitri and complains, "I cannot believe you suggested introducing me to a child."

He has the audacity to smirk at her. "Would you have preferred I suggest Severus?"

She wastes no time to spin around and point a finger in his face while lecturing, "Grandma would never allow you in the manor again and she'd inform your family you have become addled from age."

The humor fades away from Demitri's features and an uneasiness takes its place at her words. "Frankly, I do not care if I ever return here," he tells Priscilla, one hand stroking his beard with a nervous speed. He laughs a moment before meeting her gaze and saying, "Perhaps, I am addled. Why else would I agree to this madman's quest?"

Blood rushes to her ears and she cants forward to begin pushing the old man into a room next to them she knows is a rarely used bedroom turned into storage for their outdoor summer furniture. Demitri relents easily to her force as she hisses at him, "Shh! This manor is not so big we might not be overheard."

Once they are in the storage room, he steps away from her and begins to smooth the wrinkles she created from his robe. His eyes take in the sheet-covered lawn-chairs, patio table and chairs with a bored eye as he says, "Yes, I am aware, thank you."

Priscilla huffs her irritation aloud at him and crosses her arms. "Now, is there an actual reason you insisted on coming to the library with me?" she demands. Beginning to pace the length of the dusty room, she grumbles, "We went over what's to come plenty before you came to stay. I don't like the idea of speaking it aloud where there's the possibility of us being interrupted. "

Demitri stares at her, an odd, almost wistful look to his gaze. "You were such a sweet child, whatever happened?"

She stops in front of a dirty window. Using her sleeve to clean some of the grime away she stares out of it as she mutters, "I was stupid, not sweet."

He all but glides to her side. "Oh, but you were," Demitri insists, taking out his wand to clean the entirety of the window so they can both gaze out on to the lawns behind the Rookwood estate. Priscilla often finds herself staring at them these days. It's not as green as it is in the summer, but there hasn't been much snow this year to hide it either. Idly, she lifts a finger to run down a pane of glass.

Priscilla knows she won't see the grounds much at all after she turns twenty if they don't manage to stop the war before it becomes too big. Someone will have to find the money to keep the ancestral home in the hands of her family and it won't be her parents, nor her grandfather or aunt. It will all be on her shoulders, just like last time. She really hopes she won't have to marry Bernard again.

Turning away from the window, she pins Demitri with a glare. "Enough of this," she declares. "What is it you want?"

He frowns at her, his own eyes as sharp as her own. "What do you want?"

Priscilla looks away and scoffs. "Perhaps you are an addled old man," she jeers, crossing her arms.

He shakes his head. "No, that is what I want. I want to know why you are doing all of this. It's clear to me why Severus is so set on killing Voldemort. And it's even more straightforward with the Evans girl and Cresswell boy." He leans his face in close to Priscilla's, causing her to step back out of surprise and dislike. Demitri's voice is barely above a murmur when he says, "But why are you so eager to help? What he's doing… This is something your family wants."

A wave of bitterness washes over Priscilla. What her family wants. They have no idea what they want! Even if they did, she knows this is not it. Putting more space between herself and the old man, Priscilla grumbles, "My family is as stupid as I was." Tracing half-remembered runes into the dust coating another window, she goes on, "They have no idea the price he is and will make them pay to just fight for the world they want." Her runes turning to angry scribbles, she rants, "Uncle Augustus will go to Azkaban, Grandfather and Father will lose connections and business in the fallout and I'll have to marry fucking Bernard Crabbe and be a mother to his dullard of a son to try and save our family from debt. It won't matter in the end, however, because the one person I did it all for will die of a broken heart before I reach twenty-five."

There's a pause. "Your grandmother?" asks Demitri.

Priscilla blinks rapidly, trying to rid the hot sting of tears in the back of her eyes. Her grandma is fine. With all of the changes she and the other travelers have been making, she will likely remain fine. There's no reason for her to be so weepy! Voice uneven, she whispers, "She's the only one who's never picked at me, telling me to lose weight, smile more, get better grades, act more like a lady… She loves me as I am and has never said there's anything I need to change about myself."

Demitri tries to put a comforting hand on her shoulder, but she shrugs it away. She doesn't want anything from him but his help to get that damn cup. "I'm sorry, Priscilla," he says.

She shakes her head and looks away to hide her bitter, angry tears. "It's not as if it's your fault. You were clever in all the ways so many of us failed to be. You kept yourself out of it as much as possible while saying all the right things to our peers."

He sighs. "I didn't know the child you lost wasn't yours."

Priscilla wipes the wetness from her cheeks before she turns back around to face Demitri. "Few did," she says, thinking of how easily everyone believed Vincent was her son in spite of how little he looked like her. That had made her particularly bitter towards the boy. Priscilla had grown up the first time always wondering, just a bit, if she really was her father's daughter. So many had rabbited about how unlike a Rookwood she looked and yet, even though most thought him to be her child, she heard nary a whisper about how little Vincent resembled her.

"Anyway, it's irrelevant now," she continues after shaking herself out of the dark spiral she feels coming on. "His true mother was a squib. She died shortly after giving birth and when I began looking for a family who was still had wealth after the first war ended, I found the Crabbe's. Bernard didn't want to me to tell Vincent I wasn't his mother out of fear it'd make him feel out of place as he grew up and with everything going on during the war and after it… Many never realized that Bernard had been married before me or that Vincent wasn't mine. Those who did know knew to keep their mouths shut around my stepson and our family."

"You didn't love him, did you?"

Priscilla purses her lips briefly as she considers how honest she wants to be with this all but stranger. It doesn't take her long to decide to err on the side of truthfulness. There's no shame in any of it now. They're all gone. The Crabbes here aren't the ones she knew anymore either. "I didn't love any of the Crabbes," she admits. "Merlin knows I tried with Vincent, he'd been an innocent in it all, but he was too much like the rest of them and by the end, I loathed them all."

There's sympathy in his gaze as he sits down in one of the sheet-covered patio chairs. He looks at her for a long beat and strokes his beard. "You were given a bad hand, my dear. I know it's little consolation to you now, but it's not only for my grandson's sake I am doing this, but for you and your family as well. Your grandmother was too dear a friend to my Etta to let the fate that befell her in your first life happen here too."

Priscilla should know better than to take any man at his word, but something about Demitri's words rings true to her. Maybe it's hope getting the better of Priscilla, or that innate stupidity she and the rest of her family seem to be steeped in, but she accepts he means what he says. "Thank you, Demitri," she whispers.

"Of course," he replies, a small smile pulling at his lips.

-o-O-o-

Petunia is the one who opens the door when he arrives to pick up Lily from the Evans' home. When she sees it's him, the smile on her face falls and her expression turns to one of mild annoyance as she says, "Hello."

Severus scowls at her. "Hello," he returns, "am I allowed in?"

Petunia thins her lips and looks past him instead. "You haven't seen James, have you?" she asks.

He shakes his head before noticing for the first time Petunia's hair's newly cut into a short style that goes just past her chin with a blunt fringe and she wears a bright dress decorated with large floral patterns. He raises an eyebrow. "Going to a party?"

"Yeah," she answers, finally stepping aside and letting him inside the warm home. "A schoolmate, Cheryl, is throwing one. Don't tell Mum or Dad, but her parents are on holiday for the New Year."

Severus resists the urge to roll his eyes. It sounds like a recipe for disaster and he tells her as much. "You invited James to go with you? Are you sure that's a good idea? He doesn't…" he stops and sighs. Putting his hands in the pockets of his robe, he fiddles with his invite to the Fenwick party in his right pocket. The way to make Petunia listen is to make it clear how it'll affect her. "Aren't you afraid he'll say something strange and embarrass you?" he asks.

She shrugs. "They'll hardly remember by morning if Cheryl wasn't lying about the amount of beer her boyfriend's bringing for us," she replies.

His eyebrows jump high on his forehead briefly, but Severus quickly concludes Petunia will be fine. James may bring some bumps to the party, but he'll also make sure nothing too untoward happens to Lily's sister. He looks back at the door. "Are you leaving soon?"

Petunia frowns. "We were supposed to leave five minutes ago."

"I'm sure he won't be long then," he replies as he starts to look around Petunia for Lily.

Walking over to the sofa and dropping onto it gracelessly, Petunia grumbles, "He better not be."

Severus looks to the stairs. "Is Lily…?"

"She's still getting ready," Mrs. Evans says, walking into the room from the kitchen. She smiles at him and comes over to take one of his hands between her own. "My, you're getting so tall!"

He looks away, embarrassed. The Evans had been polite, in his last lifetime, but now they are friendly. Severus isn't sure if it's because he's allowed himself around their home more and they feel they know him well enough to be so open or if he's simply that different from the boy he'd been. Either way, he can't find it in himself to mind. There's no harm from letting them feel they know him well— Especially since they only have so much longer to live. Lily's said her father died of a heart attack in her seventh year and her mother cancer a little over a year later.

"Thanks," Severus mumbles. "You look well too."

Mrs. Evans pats his hand and finally lets him go. "How is your mother?" she asks.

"Fine, thank you. I think the dog we got has done a lot to keep her from being too lonely while I'm away at school."

"Oh, how lovely!" the woman says, "I've been trying to convince my husband we should think about a cat or a little dog since it won't be much longer before Petunia finishes school, but—"

The doorbell rings, cutting off Mrs. Evans and Petunia jumps from the sofa. "James!" she exclaims, hurrying to the door.

They all turn to see Petunia open the door and welcome in her boyfriend, who isn't shy about kissing her in front of Mrs. Evans. Severus resists the childish urge to make gagging noises and instead looks to the stairs just in time to see Lily appear. He feels his face warm up. She has always been pretty, but tonight, Lily is beautiful. She has her hair lightly curled so it bounces around her shoulders and the blouse and green wrap-around skirt she wears hug her curves in a way that brings out the womanly figure she has recently begun to regain. Best of all, when she sees him, her pink-painted lips stretch into a warm smile meant only for him.

Severus is startled into looking away when he feels someone brush up against him. He looks to his right and sees Petunia. Her eyes are on James, who's making small talk with her mother, but she says to him, "Make sure she has a good time. She and Dirk had a row when he was over for Christmas."

He can't help himself. "Was it a serious one?"

"Yes, about you, actually," she murmurs. Her eyes flicker to him and narrow, "He really doesn't like you."

Severus nods. This isn't new to him. While he and Dirk have been slowly improving their relationship, he doubts the man will ever entirely forgive him. Severus was a Death-Eater, he fought and hurt and killed people like Dirk, like his wife, like Lily. As hard as he had tried to atone in his last life for his mistakes, Severus knew it wouldn't be enough for some.

Sometimes, Severus has wondered what life after the war would have been like for him when it all came out what he'd done to bring upon Voldemort's defeat. He imagined it would be a rather mixed-bag and finding a way to quietly exile himself somewhere after the worst was over would be the best he could hope for. Honestly, Severus had been rather relieved when Voldemort decided to kill him. It had meant he wouldn't have to worry about any of that anymore. While the public was still going to tear him apart and try and understand his motives and actions, he would be dead.

"I know," he replies to Petunia. "I'll make sure Lily enjoys herself," he promises as she finally finishes descending the steps. "Hello, Lily," he greets.

Still smiling, Lily leans forward to embrace him, enveloping him in the warm, spicy smell of her perfume. "It's good to see you!" she returns.

After she lets Severus go, she turns to her sister and says, "Thanks for letting me borrow your skirt."

"You should keep it. It looks better on you than it does me," Petunia replies.

Lily bites her lip. "Are you sure?"

"Mum? We can go shopping for a new one, right?" Lily's sister asks their mother.

Mrs. Evans nods. "Yes, of course we can," she agrees. "Maybe the three of us can go to the shops before Lily goes back to school?"

"That sounds brilliant," Lily enthuses. She then turns her attention back to Severus. "Do you have a portkey to get there?"

Severus nods and pulls the invitation to the Fenwick's party from his robe pocket. "Yes, right here," he answers. "Shall we go?"

"Yes, just—" Lily goes and kisses first her mother and then Petunia. "I'll see you later, okay?" she promises.

Mrs. Evans waves them all out the door, handing Lily and Petunia their coats from the tree next to the door. "Have a good time, kids!" she calls before closing the door on them.

Severus turns to James and Petunia. "Is your party far?"

Petunia shakes her head. "Just a short walk," she replies. She points a finger at him. "Remember what I said."

He rolls his eyes at her. "I know."

Seemingly mollified, Petunia takes James's hand and leads him down the walk and away from the Evans family home. Lily, who stands next to him, cocks her head and asks, "What did Petunia say to you?"

Severus smirks. "It doesn't matter. Let's go, I imagine the party is in full swing."

Lily pouts, but only for a moment, as she appears to quickly decide a row about what Petunia said isn't something she cares to have. Putting out her hand, she says, "Fine, let's."

He nods and puts one end of the portkey in her hand before he activates it.

-O-

"Oh, you've made it!" Clara yells, leaving her husband's side to greet them. Taking Severus's hands in her own, she says, "Merlin, you look almost like a man now." She then turns to Lily. "And you look very lovely tonight, Lily. I love your skirt."

"Thank you," Lily says. She glances to the table of food. Clasping her hands together, she says, "I think I'm going to grab a drink. Do you want one too, Severus?"

He shakes his head. "I'm fine," he tells her. Lily nods before walking off to the table. Returning his gaze to Clara, he takes in the happy flush to her cheeks and murmurs, "Being a Fenwick seems to suit you."

Clara laughs and looks away. "Come meet Benjy's grandfather and aunt, they're so kind," she says, slipping her hand into his to pull him through the partygoers.

Severus wants to objects and looks behind him to where Lily's next to the food table. Instead of coming to his aid, however, she just lifts her cup of punch and grins. Well, there goes that idea. As he follows Clara across the room, Severus takes notice of several familiar faces in the room, there are the Prewett twins, to the right, as well as their sister, Molly Weasley, and her husband Arthur. At a card table in the lefthand corner of the room, he sees the Bones brothers are also in attendance and as he brings his gaze back to Clara, he notices that the last Bones sibling is here too. Amelia is off in a corner, talking to a wizard, who when he shifts to cross his arms, Severus realizes just might be Alastor Moody. He looks quite different, with both his eyes, the end of his nose, and with no gray in his hair.

"Severus, this is Lewis Fenwick and his daughter, Anne."

"Hi, Severus," Anne, a trim witch with long, sandy-blond, says, sticking out her hand. "I've heard a lot about you," her brown eyes glitter and look to Clara beside him. "And not just from Clara. My son-in-law and granddaughters have had many nice things to say about you."

He blinks. "Son-in-law?" he murmurs.

Anne grins, making the faint wrinkles around her eyes deepen. "Yes, Don Jones? Gwendolyn and Hestia's father?"

Severus wastes no time sticking out his hand once he hears the names of the Jones family. "It's nice to meet you."

The witch laughs and takes his hand. Turning to her father, she says, "Don's right, he's got a strong grip."

Anne's father, Lewis, smirks. "What else would you expect from such a brave boy?"

He nearly jumps when Clara puts one of her hands on his shoulder. "Yes, he is very brave, but remember, he's not even sixteen yet," she tells them, tone oddly rebuking. Severus looks at Clara, sees her frown, and looks at Lewis and Anne, who wear slightly guilty expressions. He furrows his brows. What's brought this on? Had Lewis and Anne been trying to do more than compliment him for saving their granddaughters? Clara's reaction appears to hint to such, but what more they were trying to do, he isn't quite sure.

"Of course, sorry, Clara," Anne murmurs. She smiles once more at Severus, "It really has been a pleasure meeting you, Severus. I hope to hear more of you from my family in the future. She glances to the corner where Moody and Amelia Bones are still whispering to each other. "If you'll excuse me, however, I've been meaning to catch up with my old friend Alastor all night…"

He watches, along with Clara and Lewis, Anne walk away and join Moody and Amelia in their conversation. Lewis clears his throat and mutters, "I think I'm going to see if they can squeeze me in for a game at the table." He nods at Severus. "Good to meet you."

When they are both gone, he lifts his gaze to Clara, who looks a little pinched around the eyes. Her lips part and he watches her release a small sigh before she says to him, "Severus, why don't we check on Lily?" A sneer starts at the corners of her mouth. "I see Theo Boot's took notice of her all alone by the punch…"

Severus follows her gaze to the table and, just as Clara said, a bored Lily's being chatted up by a seventeen-year-old, freckle-faced Theo Boot. Disgust curls his lips. "He knows Lily and Dirk are dating," he grumbles to Clara. "The two of them walk hand-in-hand around Hogwarts enough." He'd heard complaints, on occasion, from married Death Eaters during the first war about Boot being too friendly with their wives who worked at the Ministry with him, but he'd never thought much of it. Now, as he watches him try and do the same to Dirk, he feels irrationally annoyed. What kind of game does Boot think he's playing at?

"Oh, I'm sure he does," Clara agrees. "I reckon it's precisely why he is." She smirks at Severus, "Shall we go interrupt him?"

"Let's."

Walking up to the pair, Severus calls, "Lily, how's the punch?"

She swivels around to meet him, a look of relief on her face. "Excellent," she answers. "Did you make it Clara?" she asks.

Clara nods. "Yes," she answers. She glances at Boot, who stands stiff next to Lily. It's clear to Severus he knows he's been caught and is looking for a quick out. "I think they're about to start a new game of Exploding Snaps at the table, Boot," she tells him.

The young man nods. "Right," he says, "I could go for a game."

The three stare at him as he scurries off to join the players at the table. Severus mutters, "Prick."

"I wish Lewis hadn't insisted we invite him and his parents, but…" Clara shakes her head. "They're important people to have on our good side."

Lily snorts and reaches for the punch ladle. "I don't believe Theo is one for taking sides," she replies as she fills one cup, then another. "Especially when pretty girls are everywhere ."

Clara smiles at Severus's friend as she gives her one of the cups. "That may be, but his parents do and we're all rather sure he'll follow suit in a year or two if only to appease them."

"You hope," says Severus into his own glass once Lily's given it to him.

Lily frowns at him, but Clara only sighs before she fixes a smile on her face and puts a hand on both of their backs. "Go mingle," she tells them. "You know Clarence Bones, right? He's here. He tagged along with his older sister and brother." Clara looks over her shoulder. "I have to figure out where Benjy's gotten to."

"Thank you again for inviting us, Clara," Lily said, earning herself a real smile from the young woman before she left them to look for her husband. Lily then put her glass of punch to her lips and finished it off. "Shall we see how Clarence's holidays are going?"

Severus nods.

-O-

"Gather round everyone!" Benjy shouts to the room. "It's about to be midnight!"

Lily and Severus, who have retired to a corner some time ago to just talk amongst themselves after a couple of hours of making small talk with other partygoers, share a look before heaving themselves up to join the gathering crowd in the middle of the room. As Clara passes out noisemakers for everyone, Benjy looks to the watch on his wrist and begins to count down from a minute. He begins using his fingers to help indicate where he is in his countdown as people start to shake their clappers and blow their paper horns. Soon, the room's filled with noises of every kind, the clappers, the horns, laughter, people shouting along with Benjy's countdown and wordless cheers for the coming New Year.

As the last ten seconds descend on them, he taps on Lily's shoulder, drawing her gaze. Severus cups his hands and puts them near her ear to shout, "Shall we kiss?"

For a moment, Lily looks shocked. Severus starts to shrug, indicating he's fine with skipping the tradition, but before he can even make it halfway through the motion, Lily grabs the front of his robe and pulls him in just as Benjy bellows:

"One!"

The kiss is soft and warm, but Lily does not linger. Instead, she ends it in favor of resting her forehead on his. "Happy New Years, Sev," she whispers, staring into his eyes. "May it be a good one for you and the world."

Severus smiles and returns, "Happy New Years, Lily, I hope you it treats you well too."

As the cheering and noisemakers begin to die off, everyone quickly becomes aware of terrified screaming somewhere just outside. Severus grabs Lily's hand and holds it tightly as Benjy and Clara exchange uneasy looks in the middle of the room before the young man and a couple of others runs from the room only for Benjy to return moments later screaming, "Call St. Mungo's! My grandfather, Alastor, and Amelia have been attacked!"

It's been a while, huh? I hope this extra long chapter makes up for it a bit!

Thank you for reading :)