"This was a very dangerous thing you did, Severus," the Headmaster peered at him over his half moon glasses, his hands firmly planted on the desk in front of him. "What if it had turned out that your theory was wrong?"
"She would be dead." Snape sat on the brown dragon-hide chair opposite the large, ornate oak desk, head in hands. "I need no reminder of that. It was my foolish actions that caused this event."
"But you're certain that the lady… what is her name?"
"Lara."
"You're certain that she has sustained no injury?" Albus Dumbledore's voice was raspy, yet steady.
"Yes. Pomfrey checked her out. Lara is physically well, just exhausted. She is sound asleep in a suite in the guest quarters. I gave her a slight sedative as well, something to allow her to sleep without disturbing dreams."
The old man finally allowed himself to sit, the high-backed chair framing his tall form.
"That, at least, is a good thing. But you do realize, Severus, that we now have a situation. I'm not certain… "
"Yes, there is a situation, but not the one you are dreading," Severus sighed. "I did manage to Obliviate the crowd before we Apparated. No one will remember my wand or my incantations. However, even that probably wasn't necessary. Those people… " his voice rose in anger, "I saw their faces when I reigned terror down on them. Even though it was quite plain that I was the one who was causing the destruction, it was Lara that they blamed. I could see the looks of revulsion and hatred that they shot at her. The simple fact that to them her appearance is 'different' marks her in their minds as someone evil. I'm quite certain that she would be in danger if she returned."
"I can't condone your actions based simply on the fact that you thought she was a Squib. Had she not been, the results would have been disastrous, if not fatal," his blue eyes still shot sparks.
"Either way, they would have been disastrous. That mob would have killed her, or I would have had to kill them. It was, in my opinion, the least risky plan of action. I was by that time quite certain of my suspicions. To Nobby and I, Elf and Wizard, and therefore Magical, Lara appears as she is, exquisitely beautiful. To the Muggle world, her appearance is at best… distorted."
Albus sighed. "Indeed you are correct in your theory. Squibs do appear differently to Muggles. Raoul Sanchrist has written three books on this subject, although it is has never been required reading at Hogwarts. Perhaps in the future I should include at least the first volume for our seventh years, as nowadays many of them are interacting more and more in the Muggle community." Dumbledore pointed his wand at the massive bookshelf behind him and three dusty, leather-bound books floated gently past his shoulder and settled in front of him. "I just hope that in the future you will take steps to verify your theories before carrying out what could be a fatal conclusion."
"No one feels worse than I do. I've not only taken her from her home, I've made it impossible for her to return. I don't think that her life was the happiest, but it was her life."
You may want to borrow these, " Albus softened his gaze at the dark haired man in front of him. "Perhaps the wisest thing at this point would be to look to the future."
"Unfortunately, I think I've learned most of it the hard way," Snape stared at the three volumes. "But perhaps it would be something that Lara would be interested in perusing."
"You may first want to start her off with the basics," Dumbledore said, his expression somber but hopeful. "You said that she knew nothing of… "
"That's correct. She knows nothing. And now, thanks to me, she has nothing."
"I believe that she would argue with you," he stood and extinguished the candle on his desk, preparing to return to his night chambers.
"And just what would that be?" Severus now raised his eyes in curiosity.
"You have always placed such little value on yourself," he lifted his finger and Fawkes flew down from the wooden rafter to join the bearded man. "I'm hoping that tonight will mark a new beginning for you both."
"Of course. Hope. Hope and love." Snape's head dropped to his chin as he eyed the eternally optimistic old Headmaster. "That and a Knut will buy you a cup of coffee."
Albus nodded and blew out the remaining candle and gave him a quick wink. "Indeed."
Her hands were folded protectively around her midriff as she listened to his tale of Wizards and Witches and Dragons and Elves.
"And you say that I'm not a Witch, but that my mother was, and that not having acquired her magical genes, I am sort of a Magical person," she pulled the blanket a little closer to herself.
Well, this feels real enough, she thought, rubbing her hand over the scratchy wool. Perhaps I'm starting to awaken.
"I know, I know," he ran his fingers through his hair, his other hand tucked into his waist as he paced the floor between her bed and the window. "You must feel like Alice, gone down the rabbit's hole. But I know of no other way to explain this world to you."
"You mean Alice in Wonderland? But how do you know of this story if you aren't a Mug?"
"Muggle," he corrected her gently. "I am half Muggle myself. And we are encouraged to read all sorts of literature."
"I see." She didn't really, but she truly was trying.
"But in this case, it really isn't a good example, because Lewis Carroll was a Wizard," he pushed his hands in his pockets nervously, not knowing what else to do with them.
"I see," she said again, and held on tightly to the coarse and scratchy blanket, the only thing in this strange world that felt familiar to her. That, and the man who stood in front of her.
He brought her books from the library, performed acts of very small and non-threatening magic for her, introduced her to a small group of teachers at the school who came, one by one, to her room, most carrying a flower or a gift to welcome her. He thought it best to bring her meals to the room for the first two days while she studied and read, but soon she begged him for fresh air and he gladly took her around the grounds of Hogwarts, carefully avoiding the snow covered Whomping Willow or the edge of the magical forest, where at this time of the year, piercing howls could be heard from the mating Manfrees. It was quite out of season for Quidditch so he did not as yet have to explain children swooping through the air on broomsticks.
He had never before experienced this kind of excitement, and his smile bloomed ear to ear.
When Lara had entered the Great Hall to join the Christmas festivities, all sound had ceased, but for the clanging of a few forks that had fallen on the hard stone floor. Only silence had prevailed.
She had been ready to flee, but Severus had walked to her side and touched the bodice of her gown, deep lavender in color, as the depths of the sea.
Her shocking crimson colored hair had stood out, as vibrant as the sunset against the ocean, catching the hues of the strands of gold that Snape had woven with a spell into the threads of her gown.
She had steeled herself against the laughter and the mockery that had followed her throughout her life, but it hadn't come. There was only the intake of breath from the crowd. The students crowded around each other, murmuring flattering praises. The women at the head table, comprised of teachers, professors and lecturers, glanced down at their frumpy and, in some cases, moth eaten gowns, and resolved to inventory and replenish their wardrobes
The men sucked in their stomachs and hastily combed fingers through their hair, some going so far as to subtly rearrange their genitalia to flaunt their best (or so they thought) attributes.
But she only had eyes for one, and as she reached out to touch him, he pulled her into himself and waited for the music to start.
She had found heaven and he had found his way out of hell.
"I have some news for you," the Headmaster turned to them as they entered his chambers, "and before you ask, I have tried my best to talk them out of it, unfortunately, without any luck whatsoever."
Snape's eyes grew darker as he steeled himself for the inevitable. He had heard the buzz regarding what he thought was coming, but had hoped that it was only idol rumor.
"Lara won't be allowed to stay at Hogwarts. Even though we do have a few Squibs living with us, they have been with us for many years and are grandfathered into the rules. However, the law that was passed ten years ago, disallowing Squibs to live on the premises, continues to be in effect. The ministry has given Lara one week to return to the Muggle community."
"That is outrageous!" Snape blustered loudly, but realized at the same time that his righteous anger was only because of his and Lara's situation. He had never voiced an opinion in the past, one way, or the other, regarding this ruling.
"The reason behind the statute is rather simple," Albus thumbed through a large tome. "Children born to Witches and Wizards who possess no magical powers generally find themselves living in a world of confusion and frustration. This has often led to deep psychological problems, withdrawal, in some cases suicide. The tenet was written essentially to protect such individuals," he closed the book and removed his glasses. "I argued, as you are about to at this moment, that Lara is no longer a child, and to return her to her previous situation might present true danger for her, but I'm afraid that I was not successful in my arguments. The Ministry fears that making one exception would set a precedent, and they are not willing to do this."
Snape looked at Lara, his eyes questioning hers.
"I… I don't really care where I live, Severus, as long as we are together. I mean, I suppose that if we must return, I would like to go back to my home and to my town where everything is familiar to me, but… "
"There is no question about our being together," he pulled her close to him. "But as far as returning to your village…" he trailed off without finishing his sentence.
He had not spoken to her of his feelings regarding her safety on the night of the Snow Festival Ball. He was quite certain that Lara had mercifully blocked the incident out of her mind, perhaps with a little assistance from his potions shelf.
"Lara, Professor McGonagall has asked me to direct you to her office when I'm finished. She would like you to give her some advice in regards to a new hat that she is planning to purchase. In the mean time, I have some rather dry and boring school business to discuss with Severus, so perhaps this would be a good time for you to… "
"Oh, of course, Professor. Severus, I'll meet you at dinner then?"
Snape nodded and gave her a vague smile. How could he break the news to her that she would not be kindly accepted back into her old world?
"I know what you're thinking, Severus," Albus looked up.
"What a surprise," the droll reply.
"And that is why I arranged for Lara to go to Minerva's office so that I could give you a possible solution to your dilemma," he continued.
Snape sighed and collapsed into the chair in front of him, legs splayed. "Dandy," was all he could say, his mind still engaged with visions of the villagers jeering at the small and frightened girl.
"There is a charm, I have discovered, that will allow the Muggles to see Lara as you do," he folded his hands in front of him. "But I need your permission."
This had Snape's attention and he sat up straighter. "Well, by all means, cast it! Once they see Lara as the lovely and irresistible woman that she truly is, they will be as smitten with her as we all are. She will be able to live and work in her 'beloved' village, and even though I might find it difficult to forgive the stupid cows, I'll gladly do it for her. We did have a rather nice life in our cottages next to the ocean, and once we are married we can choose which one to move into permanently."
"Married? I didn't know that congratulations were in order," Albus clapped his hands together.
"No, and neither does she. I've only just started to get up my courage to ask her, and it might take a few more weeks, so please, Albus, don't be helpful. Your meddling won't make it a bit easier," he growled softly, but his eyes held a twinkle.
"There is, however, one caveat to the charm," the bearded man steepled his fingers and placed them to his nose.
"There always is," Snape sighed. "What could it possibly be? Will she crave whiskey and cigarettes when the moon is full? Or grow a beard upon reaching the age of thirty? Spit it out."
"Not Lara. The caveat most likely will affect you more. That is why I thought it best to lay out the charm to you alone before giving her the option as well."
"I might look good with a beard," Snape's eyebrow arched, then dropped as he noticed that Dumbledore no longer smiled.
"She will appear to Muggles as she now does to Magic folk. But once the charm is cast, the situation will reverse, and we will only be able to see her as they once did."
"I see," Snape's eyes darkened. "In other words, she will appear as beautiful as she is to the rest of the world, but… "
"Yes. A terrible choice to have to make," Dumbledore eyed him closely.
"Is there really any choice, Albus? First of all, it is my fault that she is banned from her home. Secondly, she has never had the opportunity to know how it might be to actually fit in, to be desirable, to look pleasing to others. Can I really deny her of that? And most importantly, am I in love with the woman or with her outward appearance?"
The old man allowed the younger to ask the questions, knowing full well that he wasn't expecting answers from anyone but himself.
"You are perhaps the most honorable man I have ever known," he interrupted "and I know that you are willing to proceed with this change immediately. But I have to insist that you take a day's time to give me a final answer."
"It won't change," Snape pursed his lips.
"I know. But perhaps you would like to first discuss it with Lara."
"NO. I mean, I will discuss the charm with her. But she is not to know the… the rest of it. As far as she is concerned, nothing will be different on my part. And if you don't mind, I would like to be the one to administer the charm."
"Alright, Severus, tomorrow after dinner, I will teach it to you."
Snape nodded, then stood and left the chambers.
They entered his cottage, but not before he had checked the windows and the doors, and any other possible place of entry. His wand work detected no unusual trespassing; in fact there was not even the outline of one unknown footstep anywhere around the perimeter. She observed him carefully and he was glad to not have to hide his magic from her anymore.
"We'll stay here tonight, or perhaps for a few days, just until I am satisfied that everything is quite normal. I'd rather test your home in the bright and early sunlight of morning," he said, eyes darting to every corner of the room but noticing nothing that set off alarm bells in his head.
"Explain to me once again about the charm," she said when she had put the kettle on the fire. "You said that it will allow my old friends and neighbors to see me the same as I'm seen by Magical folks?"
Old friends and neighbors, he smirked inwardly. Bloody bastards who had no use for you. No kindness, no compassion.
"Yes. When you're ready, I'll cast it," his heart quivered suddenly and he swallowed hard. "Let's have our tea first, though."
When they were nearly finished sipping the dark and rich brew, he leaned over and taking her head in his hands, he kissed her mouth. "I love you," he whispered, and felt tears sting his eyes. He lifted the hair from her forehead and made a small sign above her nose with the pad of his thumb. Then he blew his breath over her face.
A moment later his eyes widened and he sat back in his chair.
"Is that it? Did it work?" she questioned.
Only silence met her ears.
"Yes," he answered, finally. "Yes, it worked."
He was tossed between shock and anger. Shock at the vision that he saw before him, and anger at his reaction.
The worst of it was that he couldn't look her in the eye. They ate together and they talked together and they even slept together in the tremendously vast bed in his cottage, but he could not look at her, and when he did, he felt a shudder of revulsion tickling his spine and spinning his stomach.
It was a bit better when they turned the lights off late that night because her voice hadn't changed and certainly she was the same person on the inside. But try as he might, he couldn't reach out and touch her, not even in the darkness.
At breakfast she still didn't seem to sense that anything was wrong, because he feigned a headache and an oncoming cold.
"So Wizards get colds, just like us Muggle people," she grinned at him, and he quickly turned away from the sight of her.
"Yes," he exited the door, glad for the opportunity to go to her cottage and inspect it for damage.
Nothing here seemed out of place either and he surmised that the Obliviation had been more successful than he had hoped.
"Severus?" the familiar male voice surprised him, and he realized that he had been completely lost in thought.
"Martin," he turned to the small figure.
"I was just stopping by to see whether you would be returning to the shop. Surely you must have given me a date, but I couldn't quite remember, so I thought that I would stop by on my way into town. I don't know why I have such lapses lately. Perhaps you could mix up one of those holistic herbal drinks for me."
Or maybe you should stay away from Wizards and hexes, Snape thought.
"Yes, Martin. I'll be back at the shop in a day or so."
"Good, good. Is Lara in? I wanted to thank her for… for… oh dear, now I don't quite remember what it was that… "
"Was it the Christmas cookies that I sent over to you?" her voice approached them from behind.
Severus cringed at the sight of her.
"Lara!" the short, white haired man gasped. "What… oh my, look at you. You look positively radiant. Is it a new hair-do?"
"Um, yes. I've let it grow a bit. Do you really like it?" she spun around.
"Like it? You know, I never noticed before just how pretty you are. I wonder why that is?" he was staring at her as if she had just popped out of a Genie's bottle. "Severus, I do remember your mentioning how lovely she is, but I suppose I never really paid close attention."
Lara looked to Severus, but his back was turned, his eyes searching something in the rolling of the ocean's waves.
"I think it's safe for you to return to your home," he told her when Martin had left them. "I don't know how long this cold will plague me, and I don't want to risk infecting you with it," he said, but didn't meet her eyes.
"Alright, Severus, whatever you think best. Anyway, it won't last forever, and when you feel better we can plan a nice meal and a lovely evening, perhaps looking at the moon," she touched his shoulder.
He backed away from her and walked to his bedroom. "I think I'd better lie down for a while," he pretended a cough.
He saw her leave the next day from the window of his bedroom and presumed that she was going to the school to resume her teaching. He sat and stared into the fire for most of the day, his stomach sour and tense. When she returned, she immediately came into the room, fairly bubbling over with stories of her new adventures.
"Severus, I didn't want to wake you this morning since you weren't feeling well, but oh, so many things have happened to me today. The other teachers invited me to go out to lunch with them, and while we were there, everyone in the restaurant stopped by the table and spoke to me. It was almost as though they couldn't get enough of my attention. And I was thinking all along how I wished you could have been there to see the smiles."
"I'm afraid that I'm not very good company tonight, Lara. I'm still… "
"Oh, Severus, I'm so sorry. Of course I'm being utterly thoughtless. I know how much I prefer to be left alone when I'm not feeling well. Can I bring you some soup?"
"No, thank you," he strained to give her a smile. "I have no appetite." At least this part wasn't a lie, he thought miserably, and closed his eyes as the door shut softly behind her.
He entered the chemist's shop and tore into the work that had piled up in his absence. It was a relief to not have to concentrate on his own misery, and soon he was measuring and pouring, lost in the occupation that he was so good at.
He didn't hear her approaching footsteps but looked up just in time to catch the sight of the red hair that he recognized.
"You must be feeling better, then," she spoke, a tinge of hurt in her voice.
"I'm just starting to get my footing," he turned to the shelf and reached for the bags that she had come for.
"Would you be up to some dinner tonight?" she barely whispered.
"Not yet. I think I'll turn in early. It's enough now just to try to build my… "
But she had turned and was walking away from the counter. He was relieved not to see her face, because his Wizard's nose could smell her tears.
He became quite adept at avoiding her, and when they did meet, he always had an apology or excuse for having to rush away. Soon she no longer stopped by, but resumed her old schedule, running on the beach and taking solitary walks in the woods. They no longer shared their meals or their bottles of wine, and she made it a point to go the chemist shop only on the days when she was certain he would not be working.
Snape's large and empty bed remained that way, as he had taken to sleeping on the sofa in front of the fireplace, his dreams taking him back to a moonlit evening, his arms wrapped around the most beautiful girl in the world.