**
They walked next door, heading to the old Roman bath museum, and saw the redhead chatting amiably with a beautiful blonde. As they approached the couple, Hermione was struck by the blonde. She was tall and her straight hair fell in a cascade of corn silk. Her blue eyes turned to Hermione and then Snape, like focused beams.
"Hello again, Willow!" Hermione said cheerfully.
"Hey guys! This is my friend, Gabrielle. Gab, this is Hermione, and… Snape," Willow said. "I'm sorry, I don't quite know if that's your first or last name."
"It is my surname," he answered curtly. Then, most uncharacteristically for Snape, he turned to Gabrielle and his scowl turned to a… smile? "But you may call me Severus," he said to her, looking into her eyes. He took her hand gingerly, bending over to kiss it. "Enchanté de faire votre connaissance, Mademoiselle."
Hermione gawked openly at him. It took her half a beat to register that his languid deep voice had awoken a dull ache in the pit of her stomach. 'I knew it!' she thought to herself. 'I knew he'd sound dead sexy speaking French.' Then she groaned inwardly and felt she'd definitely need to wipe her memory clean just for associating the words 'sexy' and 'Snape.' A beat longer and she felt another unfamiliar feeling rising to her chest. It tightened as she realised she was furious with him.
But her thoughts were interrupted by Willow, whose eyes shone with a momentary glare in Snape's direction, before returning to a tranquil steadiness.
"Um, guys? I think the restaurants are in that direction." She took Gabrielle's hand in hers and walked ahead of them, leaving Hermione and Snape to follow behind.
Hermione dared a sidelong glance at him. Then she grinned wickedly to herself. "So… Severus, did you like the tapestries?"
He turned to glare at her and she was grateful that looks couldn't kill. But his retort was cut short as Willow turned back to them, beaming.
"Ooooh! Did you guys check out the Lady and the Unicorn? Aren't they gorgeous? Gab and I went this afternoon. Did you feel them? They were positively humming with magical energy, weren't they Gab?" She turned back to Gabrielle, smiling coquettishly, "Gave me a real buzz!"
Snape turned back to Hermione and smirked, giving her an 'I told you they were magical, and why didn't you believe me?' look.
But Hermione wasn't really paying attention. So Gabrielle must be a witch too. How come they could sense the tapestries humming? Hermione was an accomplished witch. She'd received the highest NEWTs scores in a decade, and had been offered full scholarships to all the best wizarding universities. And yet she hadn't been able to sense the magic in them. Just as neither she nor Harry had been able to sense the traitorous Death Eater in their midst last year. Mind you, Blaise Zabini was a Slytherin. It would have been a safer bet to assume they were all Death Eaters. Still, the prospect of another 'insider' had been tempting to Dumbledore, and he'd nearly asked Zabini to join the Order. But a fifteen minute interview with the Headmaster, during which Hermione presumed Legillimency had been used, had sniffed out the impostor.
Her thoughts focused again on Willow. 'I wonder if she can sense Death Eaters, since she seems so intuitive about everything else?' Hermione suddenly wished that she could have Willow all to herself for a few hours. She had so many questions.
They arrived at a little bistro and chose a quiet table on the terrace. Hermione took a moment to luxuriate in her surroundings. Even the warmest June evenings were never this balmy in Scotland. She looked up and down the street, which was lined with similar bistros, each with their own unique decors and table cloths. Most of the terraces were lit with warm coloured lanterns or romantic candles on the tables. Couples strolled along the street hand-in-hand, pausing every now and then to examine the table d'hôte.
'I'm in Paris! I'm in the city of lights!' she suddenly thought gleefully. 'The most romantic city in the world. Too bad I had to come with Snape,' she realised glumly.
They ordered from the table d'hôte. Hermione felt adventurous, and chose the escargots for starters. Then she was going to have 'blanc de volaille' which she presumed was simply chicken breast.
"Everything sounds better in French, doesn't it?" Willow leaned over and winked at her.
"Absolutely!" Hermione agreed, smiling back.
Willow was full of mirth, in a quirky way which resonated with Hermione. And from the way she could hold her own in discussions with Snape, Hermione thought she may even be a kindred spirit. She seemed to have a keen mind, and a thirst for knowledge which matched Hermione's own, making her wonder how Willow would have fared at Hogwarts. 'Brilliantly, I'll bet!'
They chatted about everything and nothing during the starters. Later, when the main courses arrived, Gabrielle frowned down at her plate.
"Mais revenez, espèce d'abruti!" she growled at the waiter. She thrust her plate back at him. "J'ai bien dit saignant!" He took it quickly, looking annoyed.
She huffed grumpily, explaining, "Zey cannot even get ze beef right in zees place! Honestly! I asked for it bleeding… How you say?" she turned to Willow.
"Rare, honey. You wanted it rare," Willow smiled at her, placing her hand over Gabrielle's, which seemed to calm her down considerably.
As they waited awkwardly for Gabrielle's meal to return, she turned to them with irritation. "Mais commencez! Pleaze, start wizout me!"
Trying to break the tension, Hermione attempted small talk. "So, Gabrielle… Did you go to Beauxbatons?" She caught Snape's warning glare too late. 'What?' she mouthed to him, frowning.
Gabrielle raised an eyebrow, turning to Hermione with an imperious look. "Non! I went to a lycée, and now I am at ze Sorbonne."
Hermione frowned. "But don't all French witches and wizards go to Beauxbatons?" she pushed. Snape hung his head, placing his hand over his eyes.
At the same time Gabrielle jumped up from her seat. "Excuse me! I must visit ze toilettes!"
Hermione felt terrible. She wasn't sure what she'd said wrong, but she wanted to make it right. She got up and rushed after Gabrielle.
Willow rose to follow, but Snape reached out his hand and placed it gently but firmly on her arm.
"I think she'll be fine," he reassured her. Willow looked in the direction they'd run off in, frowning deeply.
"I wonder what that was all about?" Willow muttered.
"I can't imagine," Snape lied. This was not something he felt comfortable discussing with Willow. She obviously knew nothing of the real wizarding world, and besides, he wanted to ask her a few questions.
"So, Willow. You are a witch living in the Muggle world. An oddity indeed…"
"The what world?" she answered, a glimmer of amusement in her eyes.
"Muggle. It is what wizards call a non-magical person."
"Oh, I wouldn't call my world non-magical! I realise you and Hermione are trying to be all James Bond about this witchcraft stuff, but I'm the Master of disguise, believe me! Mind you, it wasn't exactly hard to pull the wool over the eyes of the average Sunnydale citizen. Man, a vamp would practically have to walk straight into the Mayor's office for anyone to notice. Well… actually, for a while there, that was pretty much happening on a daily basis and the Mayor was happy to bankroll it. But that's because he was really a demon who'd sold his soul for immortality."
She said all this without pausing, and Snape felt breathless just listening to her. His keen mind had taken it all in, however, and his eyebrow quirked in interest.
"But, what I meant to say is, I know plenty of practising wicca who live in the 'Muggle' world, as you call it. In fact, there's a coven of sweet old witches near Brighton that I stayed with a few years ago," she smiled brightly, not catching Snape's flinch when she'd used the word 'wicca.'
He bit back his initial reaction, choosing his words carefully. "And what did you learn with these… wicca, my dear? Did you worship at the foot of some long lost Goddess?" he asked, trying without success to hide his disdain.
Willow's eyes narrowed. "The Goddess is generous to those who show her respect." Snape watched her eyes carefully for a moment. His masterful skills in Occlumency guaranteed that he could keep an impassive exterior, but inside, his mind was reeling from what he'd seen. For a brief flash, her irises had gone pitch black as she'd uttered the last sentence. 'Yes' he thought to himself. 'The Dark Lord would like nothing more than to get his hands on this one.' He had to find out how deep her powers ran.
"I meant no disrespect, Willow. An old wizard such as myself, trained and disciplined from years at an institution like Hogwarts cannot help but be sceptical of wiccan ways. The wizarding world I come from has always kept religious beliefs firmly at bay, especially when it comes to using magic. But I know well that many powerful… wicca… exist in the world between ours and the Muggle world," he added in what he hoped was a convincingly repentant tone.
"Severus…" she let the name roll off her tongue with a surprisingly snake-like hiss, causing Snape to bolt upright. 'Yes, she'd definitely have been sorted into Slytherin. Cunning young thing!' And for a moment, he wished dearly that she'd been born in the United Kingdom, guaranteeing her full access to Hogwarts. Dumbledore's 'take them all' policy suddenly made crystal clear sense to him.
"…it's pretty obvious to me that you're suspicious of my unorthodox training." She smiled knowingly at him. Then she giggled. "The Watcher's Council felt exactly the same way!" Then she sobered instantly, and her eyes looked far away into the distance. She settled them back on Snape, and he opened his mind to her thoughts. He felt no compunction whatsoever at using Legillimency on her. After all, he was duty-bound to find out how strong her powers were.
What he saw as he probed her mind made his blood run cold. Images of killing, without even uttering the words 'Avada kedavra'. Flaying, performed with the casual flick of her wrist. Another image… this time she hovered in mid-air, eyes black, consumed in darkness as she cried "I give you pain!" and reduced a scantily-clad woman to cries of agony. And a battle so hideous… Had she really nearly brought the world to an end one summer day not long ago on the West Coast of America? It was unfathomable to Snape. This woman had commanded power even the Dark Lord would fear…
She suddenly jolted upright, and he felt her mind shutting like a steel trap. The next thing he knew, he was flat on his back, having been blasted out of his seat. She loomed over him.
"What did you do to me?"
He looked up into pitch black eyes. Even the whites had disappeared.
The people at the next table had stopped eating and were staring at the two of them. He reached for his wand in his trouser pocket, debating whether to stupefy her. If he did, he'd have to spend the next hour Obliviating all the Muggles on this street. Then he blanched in realisation. He was not in the UK anymore. There was undoubtedly a Ministry for Magic, headquartered in Paris, which would descend upon him the minute he used his wand. In fact, they may well already be headed here because of Willow's actions. On the other hand, she may not register on their 'magical radar', so to speak. But that couldn't be right. House Elves performed wandless magic, and they certainly could be detected. Then again, every House Elf was registered and accounted for by the Ministry. He doubted very much that Willow was registered anywhere. 'Except perhaps with the now-defunct Watcher's Council,' he thought grimly to himself.
All these thoughts raced through Snape's mind, and he decided that the best course of action was to rise slowly. Once he stood, he raised his hands up in a gesture of peace, and tried to keep his voice even.
"Willow, my dear, you are not the only one who sometimes performs magic unintentionally." He hoped she was buying his bluff. "Even seasoned wizards let their emotions get the better of them."
Maybe it was time for some half-truths, the better to convince her, for he was not at all certain that she might not be able to use 'intuitive' Legillimency on him. He sat down again, gesturing for her to do the same. She looked around, realising they'd caused a scene.
"Sorry about that," she muttered under her breath. "I… sometimes I do things without realising, it's like something just takes over." And now Snape saw that she was trembling. Interesting. "That hasn't happened to me in years, I don't understand… I worked so hard on learning to control my emotions. I thought the Dark Magic was gone from me," she finished, almost in a whisper.
Snape felt a strange bond of empathy forming. He reached over, lifting her chin so she could see he was sincere. "My dear Willow, once the Darkness sets in, it never leaves you. It will always be a part of you. The battle will rage within you, day in, day out. Sometimes, maybe for a few months, or even years, you will think it has left you for good. But it never will, and you must be ever vigilant to cleanse your mind and fight off the Darkness."
She looked back at him pensively. 'This guy's been there too,' she realised. But she was wise enough to realise that she wouldn't be hearing any of his confessions tonight. 'Not unless I can figure out how to get into his mind,' she thought.
"How did you do that? How did you read my mind? And please don't insult my intelligence by telling me it was an accident." Now she eyed him sceptically. "You must be the most composed warlock, er… wizard, I've ever met. I can't imagine you doing anything by accident." She smiled coyly at him.
Snape frowned, unsure whether he'd just been paid a compliment.
"I wonder what could be keeping Miss Granger and Gabrielle," he said, carefully changing the subject. He looked back towards the door to the restaurant, and saw the girls approaching.
***
Hermione had followed Gabrielle into the ladies room. When she got there, she realised there was only one stall, with a little sink and a small chair outside. Loud sobs were emanating from the stall, and Hermione heard Gabrielle blowing her nose noisily. She felt her heart sinking, feeling guilty but not knowing why. She sat on the chair, staring at the stall door.
"Gabrielle?" she called out hesitantly. "I'm so sorry, Gabrielle. I don't know what I said to upset you, but I'm really sorry."
More wailing.
"Look… is it because I mentioned Beauxbatons?"
And now the wailing doubled in volume.
Hermione winced, kicking herself. 'Good going, Granger!' She decided that supportive silence was infinitely better than opening her mouth. She'd only end up shoving her foot into it deeper anyway.
Eventually, the wailing subsided, and an occasional sniff was heard.
"Zey would not take me," came a soft, tearful voice from the other side of the stall door. It seemed easier for her to speak openly when she was hidden from view. "J'ai coulé l'examen d'entrée," she whispered, barely audible. "I was only ten…"
Hermione felt a pang for poor Gabrielle. She'd failed her entrance exam at the tender age of ten, and Hermione realised that she had been forever banished from a magical education as a result.
"That's really unfair," she said, trying to sound consoling. But Gabrielle only started sobbing more loudly.
"Of course eet is unfair! How can zey let one leetle exam decide your 'ole life?" she bawled indignantly. "And zey did not have ze decency to speak to my parents in person. Zey would not let me try ze exam again. My parents, zey simply got a letter… Mademoiselle Delacour n'a pas obtenu le résultat requis…" And now the bawling started again.
"Delacour!" Hermione said out loud. "Are you related to Fleur?"
A loud guffaw was heard on the other side of the door, and Hermione realised instantly that this was precisely the wrong thing to say.
"So you know my 'famous' cousin? Of course you do! She wrote a long letter to my fazzer, telling him how she was Beauxbatons Champion in some idiotic tournament at 'Ogwarts! Et bien, j'm'en fous carrément de son maudit concours!"
Time to get off this topic. "Are you half Veela, then, Gabrielle?"
"One quarter, on my fazzer's side."
Well, perhaps this explained Snape's odd behaviour around Gabrielle. Hermione couldn't help but laugh out loud at the thought.
"You think eet eez funny?"
"No! No, Gabrielle. I was just thinking about the effect you had on Professor Snape. Do you know, I've never seen him kiss anybody's hand before. I didn't even know he could be civil to women. You've got a real way with men. It must be magic!" she said, trying to lighten the mood.
After a brief pause, the stall door opened. Gabrielle emerged, dabbing toilet paper at her puffy red eyes.
Hermione held her hand out to her, putting one arm around her as she led her to the sink.
"Let's get you cleaned up. After all, you've got to look your best for Snape!"
Gabrielle looked up and gave Hermione the first genuine smile she'd seen on her since meeting her. It was dazzling. Snape would have been a goner if he'd caught it, and Hermione felt a fleeting moment of relief that this girl was clearly completely taken with Willow. 'Now why on earth should I care about that?' she wondered to herself.
When they rejoined the table, Hermione had the distinct impression that she'd interrupted a serious conversation. She looked quizzically at Snape, but his face was shut to her.
"There you are, my dear Gabrielle! Your steak is getting cold, do sit down and eat." He looked briefly at Hermione. "Miss Granger" he nodded, turning back to Willow.
Hermione sat down, fuming.
**
