A/N: Thank you, all, for your reviews! NanamiYatsumaki, Kniga-Sitara, Midnight Lilly, Thank you for your kind words. RB, your comments made me laugh! Is Malfoy scheming for his own benefit, or for Snape's? Perhaps time will tell. And yes, gotta love Bella.


Chapter 3

CREEAK. No need to announce their arrival at the pub-cum-diner; the door did it for them.

They were entering the Cock and Cider, the only remaining establishment of any repute left in the neighbourhood, and the only place to get food at this time besides the roaming food cart. It was a favorite haunt of the few remaining locals, including old friends of his father, which is exactly why Severus made it standard practice to avoid it.

The inside was dimly lit and hadn't been updated since Severus himself was a boy, and sported a tobacco-stained ceiling, worn, wooden floorboards, and booths and tables crowded around the room.

An old man with a grubby white shirt turned on his stool at the bar and surveyed the newcomers. "Ooh, look 'ere," he called, raising his pint to get everyone's attention. "It's old Snapey's boy comin' down from on high to mingle with us mere mortals."

Beatrice put her arm through Snape's and whispered in his ear, "Do you know him?"

He ignored her, and continued to walk towards the counter.

"An' he's got a lady friend wiv 'em, too," called another man, well into his sixth round, if the glasses stacked in front of him and his chums were to be believed.

"Who's the bird, Snape?"

"Bugger off," he replied.

As they got closer, the barmaid put town the glass she had been polishing. "When'd you go an' get married? Lookie-here, Snape's got himself a wife!" The barmaid exclaimed. The dim light in the room had caught on the gold bands Severus and Beatrice now wore. Snape had transfigured them out of an old tin can he had found down the road, just in case someone got any ideas.

"Oy, Snape! Where'd you find a right prize like that?" jeered the drunk in the corner booth.

"Prob'ly got her where was doin' whoteva' it is 'e does most of the year," the old-timer said with a wheezy laugh.

"Well, ain't she a looker."

Beatrice blushed, made embarrassed and uncomfortable by the attention. "Can we leave?" she hissed.

"I thought you were hungry." Severus turned to the counter. The barmaid shoved a mangled menu towards him. He shook of the crumbs, and peered at it in the dim light. "Two orders of fish and chips." An uninspired choice, but it was the one safe item on the menu.

"Gotcha, now go grab a spot while I get this taken care of."

Severus turned to lead them to a table, and saw one of the regulars lewdly lick their lips while staring at his wife. He was tempted to pull out his wand then and there. Instead, he turned abruptly, startling Beatrice. "Make that takeaway," he stated tersely.

The wait wasn't long before they had their food wrapped up in a brown paper sack, and Severus had hustled his wife out the door, and back into the peace of the night.

They walked down the cobble roads and back up the hill to Spinners End. Beatrice noticed the abundance of abandoned and derelict houses, so she asked about it.

"Not much reason to stay after the mill closed down," Severus replied.

"Then why did you?"

Her only answer was a shrug. Changing the topic, she said "The food smells nice. Is it?"

"Passable."

She paused in annoyance, causing Severus to have to stop and turn before he got more than a few paces ahead. He turned to see her standing with her hands on her hips, and her foot tapping in agitation.

"That's your favourite word, isn't it?"

"What?"

"Passable."

He smirked. "Only when addressing dunderheads."

That response only made her mood darker. "First my dress is passable, and then the food is passable. Oh, passable weather we're having, just a passably fair jaunt down the road. Doesn't that sound passably nice?"

He reached up and grabbed her upper arm in a vice grip. "Stop," he hissed. "You're being ridiculous."

She jerked her arm out his grasp. "Am not!" she replied, just as fierce. "Don't you feel anything other than annoyance?"

He rolled his eyes. Was this a preview of the rest of his life? "When dealing with you, certainly not."

She turned with a huff and started making her way down the hill.

"The house is this way!" Severus called at her retreating back. All he got in reply was her flipping him the bird, a muggle move that he was certain she had no business knowing.

"Fine!" With a snarl, he dropkicked the bag of food into the street and turned with a snap, marching his way up the hill on his own. She was a grown witch, and as far as he was concerned, she could fend for herself.


Beatrice found herself sitting in an abandoned old playground at dusk. A giant chimney was silhouetted against the evening sky, with the pinnacle beginning to fade into the darkening sky. The street lamps had popped on as she had stomped her way the opposite direction down the hill. It was her turn to emotionally explode.

She couldn't believe the mess she found herself in, married to an absolute ogre of a wizard, and by the one wizard who had no business butting into her personal life. What business did she have being involved with the Dark Lord? Curse her brother for dragging her family into this mess! They were an old, respectable family, and now—

"Merlin's beard!"

Beatrice had tripped over a loose cobble and found herself on her knees. She hobbled over to the swing set and had a seat. She had twisted her ankle, and it was only her boots that were preventing her ankle from swelling.

Sitting there, she felt like crying.


When she finally trudged her way back up the hill to Spinner's End, the sun had set completely and there was only the occasional street lamp to illuminate the roadway. Being so close to muggles, she was afraid to use a lumos to light her way. On the side of the road, she came upon a fox feasting on the remains of what was supposed to be their dinner. The bag was ripped, and soggy chips cascaded down the sidewalk. She felt tears beginning to well up in her eyes, and she quickly wiped them away with her sleeve. Beatrice cursed herself for being ridiculous.

She finally limped her way to the end of the road and saw his—her house. There was a light on downstairs, casting a yellow light through the curtain. It was ugly, plain, and somewhere she would have never pictured to be the house of Severus Snape, rumoured right hand of the Dark Lord. She held the wrought iron rail led up the four steps to the wooden front door, and she grasped the brass doorknob. Beatrice hesitated before turning the knob, certain that she would be locked out, especially after she had foolishly stalked off into a place full of muggles. She prayed that she would be allowed inside without having to face repercussions. Instead of the resistance she expected, the handle turned with a gentle snick, and she pushed open the door and entered the sitting room.

Severus was there, seated on the armchair with his booted feet propped up on a small leather ottoman she hadn't noticed before. The evening edition of The Prophet was open in his lap. Beatrice sighed; he didn't even look up to see her there. Perhaps she was safe. She shut the door and locked it with an absent flick of her wand.

"Thank you for leaving the door unlocked. It was kind of you…especially since I don't have a key yet."

A rustle of paper and a grumble were her only replies.

"It seems that it's my turn to apologise," she began. "The permanence of everything just seemed to hit me and I—"

"I accept."

"Just realis—what?" It wasn't going to be that easy, was it?

"I accept your apology." She noticed he was studiously gazing at the gossip section.

"Um…well, thank you."

Severus closed the paper, placed it on the armrest, and leaned forward, wiping his face with his hands. "Look, I'm exhausted. Let's go to bed and pretend that today never happened."

"Bed?" Her face flushed as she stuttered over the word.

He gave a tsk of annoyance. "Separately." She was sure there was an unspoken insult in that word.

Beatrice was sure her face was glowing brighter than the lamp.

"I'll take the sofa and you can have my bed."

"Are you sure?" she asked. "It is your house, I'd hate to…"

He pointed up the stairs and cut her off with a snarl. "Go upstairs and get in bed before I change my mind!"

Instead of cowering like expected, she gave a clap of delight and made for the stairs. Her journey stopped suddenly in front of him. She reached up and kissed him on the cheek, startling him frozen. "Thank you, Severus." With that, Beatrice made her way up the stairs.

"Bloody woman."

Severus summoned a blanket and settled in for the night. Tomorrow was going to be a long day.