A PLACE OF PEACE
Disclaimer: This is a non-profit tribute to the works of JK Rowling who created and, together with her publishers and licensees, owns the characters and settings elaborated herein.
Thanks to my reviewers and especially to my previewers, Bellegeste and Cecelle. This story is not compatible with HBP, as it is the sequel to a story written before that came out, but it draws on HBP canon where possible. There's a character list at the end of the chapter.
This chapter is dedicated to risi. I blame her…
When the last two Weasley teenagers lounged into his classroom, Severus gave them a hard glare and stood up. Beside him, Neville stood likewise and waited for him to begin. They'd be running this meeting by themselves, as Amory had been called away.
"Settle down."
Severus waited for silence, his eyes raking the crowd of mostly redheads. Two silvery-blonde girls from Beauxbatons – Bill's daughters - sat together with Charlie's oldest at the front, while their strawberry blond brothers sat further back amongst brighter-haired cousins. Three dark girls squeezed around the front table on the other side of the classroom with a pair of wide-eyed auburn-haired identical twins, his own daughters with Percy's three oldest. Alison had petitioned for their presence with the plea of being outnumbered.
"You all know why you're here," he began. "Your uncle prefers to live as a Muggle, but he has agreed that his children should know their aunts and uncles and cousins. You are not required to keep this a secret, but we will not tolerate any backbiting or rumour-mongering, nor any malicious pranks against his children."
His eyes settled briefly on Kerry and Kelly, then on their younger siblings, David and Jonathon, pranksters all. But what could you expect from children that grew up helping in their fathers' joke shops? They stared back with professional innocence.
"Alison has nine younger sisters. Amalie and Adelaide start here in September and have therefore joined us today. Before we continue, you're each to stand up briefly and introduce yourself for their benefit." He pointed at the front desk.
"Louise. Year 5, but not here; we go to Beauxbatons, like maman, but we 'ave permission to stay an extra day to meet you."
"Jeanne-Paule. Beauxbatons also, year 3."
"Marianna, year 6. I'm your oldest girl-cousin. My dad is your Uncle Charlie. Welcome to Hogwarts."
So much for the first row.
"Kerry and Kelly, year 4. We're not twins, we're –"
"– Weasley Wizarding Wheezes cousins, and we're on the Quidditch team."
"Martin. Er, same here, I guess – that is, I'm on the team too, I'm not a Wizarding Wheezes cousin – and I'm in year 5." He sat down and jumped up again. "Oh, and I'm Marianna's and Char's brother."
The third row contained only two, but they'd pushed their chairs back to accommodate their long legs.
"Michael. I'm in year 6."
"Thierry. This is my last year – always assuming I pass the N.E.W.Ts, of course." He smiled, pushing a hank of floppy strawberry-blond hair off his face.
Behind sat four, much smaller.
"David and Jonathon. We're –"
"– not twins either. We're in Alison's class."
They stood up and bowed extravagantly, in unison. The girl next to them grimaced and spoke very fast.
"So'm I. I'm Charlotte and I even sleep in her dorm. But those two on my right are Wheezes cousins, so never, ever, ever eat or drink anything they give you – or their big brothers either. I don't know why no one else warned you."
"Excellent advice," her Uncle Neville put in, from the front of the room. The accused four only smirked.
She gave a quick nod, adding triumphantly, "And my little sister, Natalie, starts next year too, so she'll be in your class."
The next boy winked at them.
"Julien. I'm a year ahead, but I'm only two months older than Char. Don't worry, we'll look after you."
Finally, the last four, squeezed together at the back on the other side of the room.
"Diana. Year 6 also. I'm Michael's twin."
"Laura. Year 3. And I'm their sister and our dad's your Uncle Ron."
"Frank Longbottom, also year 3. I'm very pleased to meet you at last."
"What do you mean, at last? We only just found out," said his taller neighbour, giving him a hard stare. "Is that what you've been sneaking around with Callie about all year?" His professor cleared his throat meaningfully. "Oh, er, I'm Stephen, by the way, year 5, and this little squirt next to me is my brother. And that's Dad at the front of the classroom, we're your Auntie Ginny's kids."
"Yes, very well, you can talk their ears off later," Severus said sourly. "Now, I've met with all your parents over the past few days and all have assured me that they desire to reunite the family. The last thing they want is for any of you to carry on the disputes that led your uncle to leave."
His glare lingered briefly on Ronald's three, Diana, Laura and Michael, who were scowling back at him with their dad's blue eyes.
"If that is understood? Very well. Professor Longbottom?"
"Thank you, Professor Snape." Neville smiled at his children, nieces and nephews. "All being well, you'll meet the rest of your cousins some time in the summer. I'm sure you must have questions now. Who wants to start? Laura?"
"Why are Callie and Cammie here?"
As had been previously arranged, Neville waved the question over to Alison, who stood up to answer.
"I asked for them. They've been my best friends since primary school."
"Why don't you look like your sisters?" Charlotte asked.
"They look like Dad, I look like Mum." She shrugged. "Most of us look like Mum. Amy-Rose is the only other one who looks like a Weasley. And Dad says she acts a lot like Uncle Fred and Uncle George." Her mouth twitched as Kerry and Kelly smirked, David and Jonathon hi-fived each other and Professor Snape harrumphed. "But she's only six so she won't be at Hogwarts till we're almost out of it."
"It is vairy pretty colouring," Jeanne-Paule said, her head on one side and her eyes smiling. "Like biscuits dipped en chocolat."
Alison ducked her head and disclaimed.
Severus roamed the classroom as the questions and answers zoomed back and forth, interjecting only when necessary.
"Why does your dad hate our parents?"
"What a singularly dunderheaded question, Laura Johanna." When there were too many Weasley students to distinguish them by their last names, he compromised by using their other names in full, as the most formal alternative. "If your uncle hated his family, he wouldn't have agreed to this meeting."
"Well, why else would he pretend to be dead, sir?" her brother asked, to a hubbub of muttered agreement. "What was he afraid of? Did he do something wrong and have to run from the law or something?"
"Was he a Death Eater?"
"A thief?"
"Did he leave gambling debts?"
"Silence! Stop this uproar at once and ask your questions one at a time!" Severus snapped. "Your uncle is, and has always been, a hard-working, responsible and law-abiding person, Michael Jacob. Perhaps you'd like to rephrase your question?"
"What was he afraid of? If he wasn't hiding from his family or the law, then who was he hiding from?"
Himself.
Severus strode to the front of the room and looked them over before answering, debating with himself over how to explain without seeming to push the blame on either their parents or Alison's. It was strange to be standing in front of a classroom, trying to find a way not to criticise. He eyed the children, knowing he had only a small window of time to begin speaking before losing control of the class. Only this wasn't really a class, was it? And with that, he was ready.
At his first words, they stilled. Eyes widened and jaws dropped. It was unheard of for Professor Snape to sound so gentle.
"Sometimes, one reaches a place in life where there seems no way out or round or through, where the only option seems to be to make a complete break with everything that's gone before. I hope none of you will ever personally experience how one might come to feel that one's family is better off without one; how little, petty quarrels can grow to monstrous proportions and it can seem that there is an impassable wall."
He glanced in the direction of a stifled sob. The twins were thoughtful, but Alison was rubbing her eyes hard as Cammie thumped her on the back and Callie conjured her a box of tissues. Neville caught his eye with an encouraging smile.
He nodded back and continued, "One moves on or one doesn't and the darkness grows or it passes. If one has patience and time enough, everything passes in the end. From a place of peace and strength, one can look back and try to recover what was lost. Or, if one no longer needs it, let it go."
He came back to himself with a start, suddenly aware that they were staring. His face flamed and he jerked away to stare at his empty desk. What on earth had possessed him?
"Yes, very well. Next question," he growled.
When the most pressing questions had been asked and answered, Neville allowed the children to mingle. Frank, pressed forward immediately to buttonhole Callie, and his brother and cousins followed in a cheerful, curious throng. Severus watched them absently. It was the Wales twins' turn to ask questions and soon Charlotte and Julien were dragging them over to their Uncle Neville to ask if they could give them a guided tour of the castle. He nodded and they ran off, chattering.
"That didn't go too badly," Neville murmured, as the other children started to leave.
Severus shrugged, avoiding his friend's eye. What on earth had possessed him to speak of feelings to students? But Neville never seemed to need to see his face to know his thoughts.
"I shouldn't worry," he said. "They won't respect you any less for showing them you're human."
He was too tactful to stay longer. Severus walked over to the store cupboard and stared blindly at the packed shelves.
"Severus?" came a voice from the open door.
He turned and suppressed an instinctive snarl. Not him. Not now. Seventeen years of forced cordiality, for Hermione's sake, had not yet softened into amity; first names graced their lips but fell, still stiffly unnatural, from rigid faces.
"Harry. What brings you to Hogwarts? Your children are causing no trouble and I believe their performance is adequate in all subjects."
Harry gave him a crooked smile and bobbed his head.
"Not the kids. Ron told me. About Percy, or whatever he's calling himself now."
Severus grimaced back.
"You mean Adam."
"Yes, look, could we go somewhere and talk?" Harry asked.
Severus reminded himself of his duty to put up with his wife's annoying friends and took him to his office. His unwanted guest looked around the familiar, dark room, ringed with jars of dry or pickled dead things, and half-smiled, tapping his fingers on the desk, as Severus reined in his irritation.
"I told him I wouldn't make him choose," Harry said at last. "I didn't make Hermione choose between you and me and I won't make Ron choose between me and Percy."
"If you're expecting fulsome gratitude at this late date –"
Harry scowled.
"Stow it! Why d'you always have to be such a – I mean, of course it's not about that."
Severus looked at him over steepled fingers.
"Then why come to me?"
"Because you're Percy's friend. I thought you could tell me – I thought you'd know – Is he likely to make Ron choose?"
"What are you afraid of?" the older man asked. "Do you think the answer would be any different than it was when you were all teenagers?"
Harry leaned forward, his green eyes curiously bright.
"I never made them choose," he said. "I wouldn't."
"No, but a choice was made anyway. On both sides."
"I never knew he hated me so much." Harry had picked up a quill and was running his finger along the side as he spoke. It was all his unwilling host could do not to snatch it from him and bang it down out of reach. "I never meant to hurt him – hurt his family – I wanted to be part of it, but not to push him out."
It was strange to be the peacemaker. Severus considered his next words, but decided on simplicity.
"You didn't push him out."
"But he thinks I did, doesn't he? He told Ron that it all started when I came along." Harry's finger pushed at the ruffled edge of the feather, teasing it apart. Severus gritted his teeth.
"Ronald misunderstood, which, unfortunately, is nothing new. It was his family's coldness that pushed Adam away," he said.
Harry slammed both hands on the desk, dropping the quill.
"They weren't cold! They were the warmest, most loving family I could have dreamed of! I never understood how he could leave them like that. He had a family, a home, everything I'd always wanted, and he threw it away!"
"No doubt to you they seemed perfect. If that's all, I am extremely busy." Severus Summoned the quill from the floor at Harry's feet and examined it, scowling. "Reparo."
To his annoyance, there was no answering scrape of chair or departing footsteps. He looked up to see the younger man staring at him undecidedly and raised an eyebrow.
"I'm not my father, you know; I never was," said Harry unexpectedly.
His host sighed. Why now, of all times?
"Less like him than you look, perhaps," he allowed, "but more than you think. Arrogant, headstrong, privileged –"
Harry recoiled, his mouth twisting on something sour.
"Privileged? You've known since fifth year that I was raised in a cupboard!"
"Privileged in our world," Severus explained. "Celebrated, allowed too much freedom, excused of consequences far too often –"
"You hated me from the moment I saw you!" Harry cut in, his hands flat on the desk as he leaned over it, his small, slight figure tense and his eyes hot.
Severus put down the quill, then picked it up and put it safely inside a drawer. He pulled the stack of papers closer, out of Potter's reach, and began neatening the edges.
"No, I merely found you infuriating; Dumbledore's darling, his prophecy child – a lazy, sloppy, self-absorbed boy, with nothing in your head until you discovered Quidditch. I tried from your first lesson to teach you to pay attention, be ready to protect yourself, notice what was going on around you, learn what you needed to know – but I might as well have talked to your desk as to you."
"You wanted to humiliate me because you hated my dad –"
Severus shrugged, still not looking at him. He didn't see Harry's eyes narrow or his mouth thin. He didn't need to.
"It had nothing to do with your father, except wanting you not to be him. A Potter Dark Lord to replace the one we were trying to defeat was hardly the way I wanted the prophecy to be fulfilled!" he said.
"My dad – He may have been a bully to you, but he'd never have become a Dark Lord! He hated Dark Arts!"
"How do you think most Dark Lords start? By being the biggest bully in the playground, far too often. I did my best to prevent that by giving you the discipline you needed, that you weren't getting elsewhere." Not that he'd ever appreciated it.
"You did your best to make my life a misery."
"I taught you as I was taught, without favouritism or fawning." Severus pushed the papers to one side, disarranging the straight edges again. The inkbottle wasn't stoppered properly. He picked it up to fix that. "If I was harsh, it was to make you strong, stronger than your spoilt brat of a father. Strong enough to survive."
Harry leaned forward and spoke so softly, the world stopped to listen.
"Strong enough to be your atonement for his death?"
Severus jerked, splashing ink on fingers and across the desk. He didn't notice. The air was too thick to breathe; he was choking.
"I know why my parents died." Harry didn't notice the ink either. "And I know it was you that told Voldemort the prophecy."
Lily's eyes; Lily's eyes in Potter's hated face. One word came from a dry throat.
"Yes."
His hands were trembling. He laid them on the wet desk, still clutching the inkbottle and stopper, and waited for judgement. He'd always known one of his victims would find him and know him; he hadn't expected it to be Lily's son, not after all this time.
"That's why you can't admit that I had a miserable childhood, because you know you gave it to me. You robbed me of my parents, my home, everything I wanted and grew up without."
Severus bowed his head, not even aware of his fingernails digging into his palms.
"And that's also why you kept saving me, when you couldn't even bear to look at me, isn't it? I used to wonder about that."
"Yes." Severus gulped down bile. His life on the line; Potter could take everything. "Are you going to tell Hermione?" He'd hoped she'd never know.
Incredibly, his accuser's face softened.
"If I didn't tell her before she married you, why would I tell her now?"
"You've known since then?" He didn't believe it.
"Since the very end of sixth year. I wanted to kill you, at first, and Dumbledore for employing you! I stewed all summer over it, but I didn't tell anyone because I didn't want them telling me how I should feel or what I should do and, in the end, I decided it wasn't the time for private vengeance, not till we finished Voldemort. Then afterwards, I was too tired to bother. Too tired of everything."
Severus rubbed his forehead, leaving a thin smear of ink. That was a string of meaningless words; he couldn't make sense of them.
"But – you knew and you didn't tell her."
"I told you, I wasn't going to make her choose. If you were what she loved, who was I to stop her? If you hadn't loved her too, if I'd thought you were going to hurt her – But you told Sue you'd try not to drive Hermione's friends away and I've never known you lie. You never lie."
Severus knew he should have been relieved, he should have been grateful, but he had to clench his hands together in his lap to stop them rising to strangle that aggravating, incomprehensible man in front of him.
"How could you let her marry your parents' killer? Let your best friend marry someone like me?"
And the man smiled!
" 'S funny, you know," he said, raking one hand through his messy hair. "Sirius called himself that too, the first time I met him. That was why you were so savage about getting him Kissed, wasn't it, because if he was the murderer, then you weren't?" He shook his head as Severus watched with a feeling of a world tipped sideways. "It wasn't him and it wasn't you. It was Voldemort who murdered my parents."
"What difference does it make who held the wand?" Severus burst out. He buried his face in his hands. "It was my fault! Mine!" He'd tried so hard, always, to disguise his real feelings, especially from this unbearable brat. It hardly seemed to matter now.
Harry pushed his chair away from the desk and leaned back, closing his eyes and wishing himself home with Hannah. Why couldn't the past stay in the past, safely behind them? 'Because you have to look it in the face and stare it down first,' he reminded himself.
"You didn't want them dead," he said aloud. "Not even my dad."
The bent, black head shook.
"Not even him. Humbled, yes, but not dead. And not Lily with him, never Lily."
"Lily? My mum was Lily to you? In the Pensieve, you called her Mudblood," Harry reminded him.
Severus lowered his hands and stared down at them, unseeing, his face still curtained by his hair.
"I didn't mean it. We were friends of a sort. Not close, but on talking terms. Most of the time." His Adam's apple bobbed convulsively. "It was a crime to lose her; she was worth ten of the rest of us put together!"
Harry's mouth tried to twitch into a smile, but his chest was aching. He should have asked Sirius and Remus more about her while he had the chance, but he'd only ever wondered about his dad back then. One day, perhaps, he'd be able to get Severus to tell him, one day in the far future.
"So you hate yourself, and you hate me because I remind you of that every time you look at me. And I hate you for hating me and then you hate me some more for hating you back." His breath huffed out in a long sigh. "Don't you think this has gone on long enough? It's ridiculous! Hermione's not just my best friend, she's like my sister, and that makes you family, whether we like it or not. Don't be like Percy and try to run away from it. Families are forever."
A/N Well, I never expected Harry to have the last word in any of my fics. Not quite though, there's still an epilogue, but it probably won't be posted for another month as I haven't written it yet and I'm deep in Jewish holiday season at the moment.
You'll note that I've retained the HBP strand of Harry finding out at the end of 6th year that it was Snape who passed on the prophecy, but I've retooled the circumstances to fit this canon-shafted universe, in which Snape stayed at Hogwarts and Dumbledore survived the war. If you'd ever wondered why Snape thought, "If she knew me better,she wouldn't want to know me at all," as he did in the prequel fic, or why he was so adamant about not discussing his Death Eater days with her, this was, of course, one of the reasons.
Character list
Severus Snape (Deputy Head, Slytherin Head, Potions master) m Hermione Granger
ch:
Calendula Marigold (Callie) - 3rd year
Camomile Aster (Cammie) - 1st year
Gerrilyn (Gerry) Nott and Tavia (Tavie) Greengrass are Callie's best friends.
Adam Wales (aka Percy Weasley) m Amanda (Manda)
ch:
Alison - 1st year, age 12
twins Amalie (Am) and Adelaide (Addie) - age 11
Anthea (Thea) - age 10
Abigail - age 9
Aglaia (Aggie) - age 7 1/2
Amy-Rose - age 6
Alfrida - age 5
twins Arielle and Aislynn - 3 1/2
Molly Weasley
Bill Weasley m Fleur Delacour
ch:
Thierry - Head Boy, 7th year
Louise - 5th year, Beauxbatons
Jeanne-Paule - 3rd year Beauxbatons
Julien - 2nd year
Charlie Weasley m
ch:
Marianna - 6th year, Prefect
Martin - 5th year, Quidditch team
Charlotte - 1st year
Natalie - age 10
Fred m
ch:
Kerry - 4th year, Quidditch team
Jonathon - 1st year
George
ch:
Kelly - 4th year, Quidditch team
David - 1st year
Ron Weasley m Susan Bones
ch:
twins Michael Jacob and Diana - 6th year
Laura Johanna - 3rd year
Neville Longbottom (Herbology Professor) m Ginny Weasley
ch:
Stephen - 5th year, Prefect
Frank - 3rd year
Minerva McGonagall (Head) m Amory Marchant (Gryffindor Head, Defense Professor)
Harry Potter m Hannah Abbott