The usual disclaimers apply.
xx
He wanted to bang the parchment on the table but since Ophelia and Mary Kelly were currently feeding the bloody tortoise at the table (a tortoise on the table? The things he allowed his daughter) and he did not want to scare both the pet and the two females sitting there. Oh but he felt like it. The cheek of the bloody woman.
Please come and support me and my family.
What was she thinking? Please come and support me and my family. The utter cheek of her. The utter, utter outrageousness of this statement, this note, this – letter. The Weasleys know about my son and Molly did not take it well. She will return with my ex-husband and Arthur Weasley, apparently today. Please come and support me and my family.
He did not owe her anything. Not her, not her family. The only people he owed were Ophelia and to a certain extent Mary Kelly (though she would say – you owe yourself, Severus) definitely not Hermione Granger and her brats.
But – this was probably beside the point. This was maybe what Mary meant when she said that he owed himself. He owed himself the pleasure of seeing the Weasleys flustered and they would – indubitably – upon seeing him again. He had not even caught a glimpse of a single member of that family (except Ronald) since before the end of the war. But he had heard stories, naturally. Hagrid informed him in his casual way, and occasionally, two of those people who were not really supposed to be in his apothecary, had met there (and yes, he had enjoyed the first embarrassment), and after a while, had begun to talk. The Weasleys and their ever-growing brood had been a topic, of course. In those moments he was even more content that he would never be forced to teach at Hogwarts again – and teach at least 11 (could be 12, could be 20, for all he cared) of those red headed dunderheads. It was enough that Ophelia had thought be befriend one of them.
Even though – truth be told – he did not really see him as a Weasley. More a Granger. Though he always called him the Hugo Weasley boy. And despite the red hair. Really, more like Granger.
So – no, he would not be helping Hermione Granger and her brats. He would make Weasleys squirm and once more, he had the chance of doing a little Gryffindor-scaring.
He was sure about one thing though – he was there for himself, not for Granger – and as such, he knew that she would expect him to bring his girl. No, he would definitely not take Ophelia to the Grangers. He was there for his own, well, pleasure, not running to her aid and as such, he would make sure Ophelia was never, under any circumstances, in the line of fire of stupid, impulsive Gryffindors.
He checked his pocket watch – and decided. No big entrance this time. He would be there and wait for the Weasleys. Calm and smirking.
No, really, this thought alone brought a smirk on his face and he made his decision. With a wave of his wand, he summoned his robes.
"Mary, could you watch Ophelia for an hour, please? I have some business to do and I can't take her with me."
She nodded but Ophelia stared at him. "Where are you going, Daddy?"
"I'll be back in an hour," he explained and saw the almost fear, almost panic in her eyes. And yes, he had never left her alone. Had either taken her with him or had not gone anywhere. But he would not take her with him this time and he – well – sort of trusted Mary Kelly to take care of Ophelia for such a short time. He wouldn't be away for long. An hour – at the most.
"But where are you going?" she asked, her lower lip trembling a little – but only a little until Mary wrapped an arm around her, pulled her to her and whispered something in her ear. She still looked earnestly at him. Very, very earnestly and he knew that she was only a little scared of him leaving her. With quick steps, he was around the table and picked her up, lifting her into his embrace. "I'll be back in an hour, my little witch, I promise," he spoke softly in her ear. "And tomorrow, we'll go somewhere, just you and me, okay?"
She nodded a little sadly and for a moment, snuggled her head into the crook of his neck. "Do you really promise?"
He nodded and gently kissed her forehead. He had not thought she would take it so hard if he left for an hour. She was with Mary for longer than that in the store room when he was working in front. He did not even dare to glimpse at the tortoise. No, he could see it in her eyes. "I promise," he repeated and kissed her again before ever-thoughtful Mary took the girl from his arms.
"And we will bake a cake, hm?" she asked softly and Severus nodded in thanks.
xx
She wasn't honestly nervous. She was – a bit excited but not in a good way. She knew she had her parents on her side and she had (Ron would hate her for this, she knew) sent Rose and Hugo to Missus Williams, the neighbour, who had already babysat her when she had been little. They would, doubtlessly, come back with a lot of chocolate ice cream around their mouths but it would be worth it. She didn't want them in the house when there was the possibility of a fight. And she guessed that there was more than the possibility of a fight.
Her mother had even prepared some sandwiches and tea would be ready when they came. Only – she had written Severus Snape and she wasn't sure he would come. And if he did – oh, she hoped he wasn't bringing his daughter. She had not mentioned the girl in her note. Had only asked him. Oh, that would be difficult if Ophelia came with him. She would have to send the girl to Missus Williams as well and she doubted that Severus Snape would like that.
"Oh dear," she muttered to herself when the doorbell rang.
"I'll get it," her mother shouted from the living room and Hermione heard her opening the door but did not hear what she said, or how was there. From the silence – could she hope that he had come? Despite sending no answer?
She swallowed hard. It would make it simpler – and more difficult at the same time when Snape was there. Every single one of the Weasleys would be on his throat first – and at this moment, she wasn't sure any more what she had wanted to achieve by inviting him. It had been an impulse – first her asking him, and then asking again. She wanted to have that gentle man in her house, the one that loved his daughter – but how big were the chances of seeing him when the Weasleys were there?
She let her head fall back and groaned.
"They're not even here yet, Miss Granger," she heard his voice suddenly and her head snapped back, "and you're already groaning about it?"
"Mister Snape, I was just...erm," she tried to answer – but then decided against it and got up and stretched out her hand – towards him. And he – Severus Snape – he surprised her.
He took it. Just took it, squeezed it, shook it. And it was one of those handshakes that she preferred. With force behind it – not feeling as if she was shaking a dead fish. No, this was a nice, firm, warm handshake.
Odd – she had always taken him as someone who had cold hands constantly. No, not at all. Warm and dry and he didn't even scowl. It was just a neutral, normal expression on his face. Nothing out of the ordinary. Only – his eyes were almost warm now. Almost the way he had looked at his daughter. But only almost.
"I can only stay for an hour," he explained. "My daughter expects me back."
"Oh, you didn't bring her. Thank God," she sighed.
"Why would I want to bring my daughter into a house that soon will be full of dim-witted, impulsive, quick with their wand, Gryffindors?"
"I used to be one," she smirked. "Remember?"
"How could I forget?" he sneered.
"I'll get it," her father cried this time – after the doorbell had wrung.
"I have no idea why I asked you to come here," she blurted. "I'm sorry I dragged you in..."
"Bit late for that now," he replied evenly. "However, I know why I am here."
"And why's...," she was interrupted by her father – and her mother – accompanied by three Weasleys.
xx
It was nice to see their first reaction. Ronald Weasley's mouth hung open and he turned a nice shade of pink, Molly Weasley seemed to want to say something but the words seemed lodged in her throat and she was merely moving her mouth and Arthur, Arthur merely stared at him in wonder and astonishment. Just curious as to what he was doing there.
"Good afternoon," he said and used his most pleasant voice. The one he had always used back at Hogwarts. The one Ophelia was afraid of.
None of the three knew what to say, apparently.
"Tea?" Judith Granger came to their rescue (not that he wanted her to) and with her husband stepped into the overly crowded kitchen. "And why don't you all go into the living room, John? I'll finish the tea."
"Good idea, Jude," her husband answered and more or less ushered the Weasleys out – and he and Hermione stayed back for a moment.
"It seems you're making an impression, Mister Snape," Judith Granger ginned and winked at him. "Hermione, will you bring the sandwiches in?"
She nodded and smiled at him. "Thanks for being here," she beamed at him and he could merely growl back. He had not done anything except greeted them. It would not help in the least – not with her problem.
"Mister Snape?" Miss Granger held him back by holding his sleeve.
"Yes?"
"I know I wasn't right in coming to you unannounced to give your daughter the book and I haven't apologised so far," she said gently and he could only nod. Was the entire family going insane now? Just because he had a daughter now? Just because he had allowed his daughter to play with Hermione Granger's son?
Granger smiled at him sweetly, had shaken his hand, warm and soft and small and she had the glimmer in her eye that meant, as far as he could remember, fight. Not against him but against something. Oh yes, he remembered her SPEW buttons. Well. And he remembered how Minerva McGonagall had chuckled about it and had called her a feisty little thing. And during that time, her eyes had gleamed just the same. Weird.
And now Granger woman senior had apologised for interfering. That was something new. And had thanked him. For being there.
Honestly – this confused him. Both Granger women confused him. Didn't they understand that he was only there for his own, twisted pleasure? They honestly thought he was there to help them? With what?
The Weasleys would rant for a while – and complain a little – and Ronald Weasley would never in his life want a Squib son to live with him, Hermione Granger had divorced him, the children would see their paternal grandparents occasionally, and that was all there was.
"Hermione's also very happy you're here," she suddenly said.
"Oh is she?" he replied, mockingly and arched an eyebrow, hearing Molly shriek from the living room.
"Yes," she smiled. "There now. Tea's ready. Would you mind?" she asked – and before he knew it – he found himself carrying a tray with a few cups and saucers and tea. He never even considered using magic either.
xx