The usual disclaimers apply.
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Yes. Yes, she had truly thought that there was nothing that surprise her more than seeing Severus Snape cuddling his daughter. Not true. A close second – but Severus Snape – the essential wizard – carrying a tea tray into their living room – that was the most surprising thing she had ever seen in the world. Forget everything she had ever seen in the Wizarding World – three-headed dogs, dead Basilisks, house elves, giant spiders, people transfiguring themselves into animals – Severus Snape carrying a tea tray with a solemn, concentrated expression on his face was something she had never expected to see. Nothing, after this, would surprise her any more.
Nothing.
Well, maybe. But that was then only him setting down the tea tray carefully and taking a seat (and she had seen her father's gesture for him to sit but still...). It had silenced even Molly's shrieking and Ron's huffish, peeved mutterings and Arthur still seemed a little – confused about the entire thing.
It only took them both, Molly and Ronald a moment to gather their wits. Only a second or two until Ronald's ears grew redder and Molly seemed to – well – there seemed to be an internal explosion – or implosion and her eyes grew wider and her hair even redder (was that possible?) before she stood up and her wand was drawn on Severus Snape.
"What are you doing here?" she shrieked – in a high-pitched tone.
"Severus Snape," her father said in a very clear, very calm voice, not once taking his eyes off the Weasleys, "is a friend of our family and I would ask you to put the wand away."
"But...but...", Molly spun around – glaring at her father. "He's a Death Eater. He killed Dumbledore."
"He's a friend of our family," her mother answered sweetly, "and we do not want to explain to the neighbours why there is a hexed person around here somewhere. I'm sure it would be against this secrecy-thing as well."
Hermione wanted to begin to speak. Wanted to say anything yet her eyes were drawn to him. He smirked. The evil bastard smirked. And suddenly, Hermione Granger understood. It had been his plan all along – on the one hand, show the Weasleys that he was bigger hearted, that he had no problems befriending Muggles and Squibs – and on the other hand, he was completely throwing them off track – by his presence only.
"So he is your new boyfriend?" Ronald got up as well, glaring at her this time. "That's why he's here all the time, that's why you want to keep the children?"
She had a choice, she knew. One definite, life-changing choice.
Say nothing – let Ronald think what he wanted to think or – deny it. Either way, Ronald would not believe her. So, she chose the first option. Not saying anything. She just remained silent.
Trouble was – both Severus and her parents were silent as well. All three of them, not saying a word and she had to look at him – Snape that is – and he merely returned her gaze. Just a normal look in the eye, not warm, not cold, just – neutral.
"So it's true!" Ronald shrieked and Molly fell back on the sofa.
xx
He wasn't sure what made him stay silent – not protest outrageously first against Mister Granger's statement and then against Hermione Granger's silence.
Friend of the family? Certainly not.
Boyfriend? BOYfriend? Boyfriend of Hermione Granger? Certainly not.
And still, he remained silent. Said nothing. Sat and sipped his tea and tried to keep his face at least neutral, not smirking. Yes, yes, he understood why Hermione Granger had said nothing. This implication was – difficult for the Weasleys. Difficult for them to grasp. The good Gryffindor girl with him – a scandal. Not that it was true but he could see what kind of things the Weasleys were thinking. Him corrupting the poor, good girl. Only – when he looked at her now – sitting there, her cup of tea in her hands, she wasn't a girl any more. And certainly not someone who could be easily corrupted.
She knew what she wanted and – he and her parents were obviously the only one to see that. She was fighting for her children. For her to keep them, for the Weasleys, especially Ronald, to back off, and for them to respect her son for what he was – with his help. Really – if someone like him accepted Hugo Weasley – then they should.
Only, they were quite off topic. He spared a glance at Mister Granger – and he obviously thought the same and he was just getting ready to say something, when Arthur Weasley spoke up.
"I don't think we're here to discuss this particular topic, are we?" he asked, almost – testily. Severus had never heard him that way. He sounded impatient, and less than kind. "We're here to talk about the fact that my grandson is a...cannot do magic."
"Right," Hermione nodded and turned to Ronald Weasley. "I don't think it's anyone's business whom I see or not. The children are not concerned with it. And you, Ronald, have the chance to pick them up every weekend. And during the last three, you never came here. Last week, last Sunday, they were ready to go, had their shoes on already because you said you would be here around three and you never showed up. This is about you and me and the children. Not about him."
"You didn't pick them up? Ronald Weasley – you...," Molly shrieked.
"Molly," Arthur said, trying to placate her but she wouldn't be placated. "You did not pick your children up? Do I understand that correctly? You want your children to live with you – and your girlfriend who does not even know about this and you are not capable of picking up your children?" she yelled and towered over Ronald Weasley.
In that moment, Severus almost pitied him. Almost. Not quite. He knew – he knew now that there was nothing worse than not being there for one's children. He had made an impression by being here. And that was – what he had wanted.
"And what would I do with a child that can't even play Quidditch?" he replied in an equally unpleasant tone and he knew – with that, with those impulsive, unthoughtful words, he had not only lost the cause with Hermione Granger and her parents – but judging by the expressions of the senior Weasleys – with them, too.
"How dare you?" Hermione Granger was in front of him in a heartbeat. "You fathered this child. He's as much yours as he is mine. He's not more or less just because he cannot do magic. He wants to be a dentist. Just a dentist. Doesn't even want to be an auror."
"Well, Hermione, it's not usually the father...," Molly tried to interject but Granger was on a roll now.
"Who says so, Molly? Who knows? I don't even care. It's a fact. We can't change it by shifting the blame – there isn't even any blame. You saw him. You spoke to him. He is happy with what he is," she shouted.
"He's three years old. He doesn't know what he wants."
"He's four," Hermione Granger hissed. "He is four. And he is perfectly happy being what he is. And he will be as long as there are no people around telling him that he's in any way, shape or form disabled."
He watched, he had to admit, with a sort of amusement. She could certainly hold her own against Molly Weasley and Ronald Weasley. And Arthur Weasley, though that man only sat and watched as well - occasionally sparing him a glance. Surprised glance. Not more and not less.
It had turned into a shouting match now – between Ronald Weasley and Molly Weasley – and from time to time, Hermione Granger got in a word in edgewise. And yes, he could see that Molly Weasley did not want her son to have the children – but was not quite comfortable with the thought that her grandson was a Muggle. Squib. Whatever. But to be honest, his job, unsatisfactory though it had been (well, the silence and the tiny bit of squirming had been nice), was done and he wanted to go back home to Ophelia. Wanted to make her see that he was coming back. Always coming back to her. She needed to know.
"And it's my fault? Or my parents fault?" Hermione Granger suddenly shrieked – and a shrieking Hermione Granger was more than he could bear. He caught Missus Granger's eyes and nodded briefly before he stood up.
"Mister Weasley, Missus Weasley, Mister Weasley, Miss Granger, Missus Granger, Mister Granger," he said curtly, "I will take my leave. My daughter," he stressed the word, "is expecting me."
He nodded again – and turned towards the hallway, and then to the left, towards the front door.
Er, wait," Hermione came running after him and held him by the back of his robes.
"Yes?" he asked slowly, the door handle in his hand already.
"Thank you for being here. It helped," she said gently.
"I did not do anything," he replied before he could stop himself.
"Oh yes, you did a lot," she nodded and smiled. "Without you, it would have looked quite differently now."
He doubted that. Strongly. Molly Weasley would still be shouting at her son for not even caring about his children on the weekend and that children belonged to their mother and the rest of them would still be sitting around not saying anything. But – he wanted to go. Wanted to go to Ophelia. Home. Reassure her. So he just nodded.
"Erm, I am really grateful," she said and blushed a little. Only a bit, around the cheeks and it gave her face another look. Completely different though he he could not put his finger on it exactly. She just looked – more alive, maybe. And honestly, in there – the way she had stood her ground – admirable. Not quite as admirable as other things other people did – but, yes. Molly Weasley could be a bit much when she started yelling and shouting and arguing but Hermione Granger had remained relatively calm. Relatively sane. For a Gryffindor at least.
"Yes," he said again and nodded.
She bit her lip suddenly, let his slide between her teeth back to its normal position and when she spoke, she spoke softly, almost mumbling. "Mister Snape, erm, I'd like to take you out to dinner as a thank you."
He stood there. Rooted to the spot. I'd like to take you out to dinner as a thank you. It echoed in his ears, over and over and over again.
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