Just a Little Spell

Now it was Minerva's turn to raise her eyebrows. "No Pagan priestess?"

"I have contacted Augusta Longbottom," Snape replied primly. "She recommends summer solstice as the date for the warding ritual."

That gave the headmistress a pause. "You really mean that, don't you, Severus?" she asked slowly. "You want me to reconfigure all of the wards of Hogwarts."

With a nervous gesture, she adjusted her spectacles.

For a long moment, the Potions Master didn't react. He sat motionless, his gaze fixed on the Muggle-style painting behind her.

Minerva herself was used to the strange motionless portrait by now. She could even appreciate the sense of motion created by the wild disarray of brushstrokes and colour. Sometimes she almost fancied that she could detect a familiar twinkle lost between the yellow and blue splashes.

The same could not be said for Severus. He was doing his level best to appear unconcerned, hard and unmoved, but she knew him too well. She had watched him grow up, after all. She'd seen him first as an awkward, neglected child, then as a gangly, gifted teenager. Later as an angry young man, desperate, in and out of love. And finally as an adult, twisted, bowed, nearly broken. And finally: happy, at peace. If only for a few short weeks. She resisted the impulse to hug him. That was not her style, and he would not appreciate the gesture.

"Why?" she asked instead, turning ruthlessly back to the matter at hand.

"I told you about the encounter with Voldemort in the Fifth Precinct," Severus replied curtly. "I am convinced that he will find a way to return. And when he manages to return, it will be as one of the Greater Dead, a demon of immense power – and hatred. He will return to the place where he was defeated and he will seek revenge. The present wards are all well and good for keeping unruly children inside and clumsy Death Eaters outside. But chocolate custard would be more effective to stop a demon of the Greater Dead."

"Do you absolutely have to be so blunt?" Minerva inquired faintly.

But Severus only scowled at her. She sighed. A cold, weary ache pulsed deep in her spine. Oh, Albus, she thought. I am years younger than you were, but sometimes I feel not just weary, but plain old …

"Very well," she said. "You know that I cannot do this alone. I need the Heads of all Four Houses, as well as Hagrid and Filch. Since you have already contacted Abbé Nihel and Augusta, I expect you to arrange the details of those rituals with them. Of course I want to be apprised of exactly what you are planning in time. I shall ask Sybill to determine the most opportune date for the renewal of the magical wards."

Severus snorted softly, but he didn't protest. That (as well as his willingness to ask Augusta Longbottom of all people for help) told her more than anything just how serious he was.

"When do you expect …" She couldn't continue and had to swallow hard. "When do you expect Voldemort to return?"

Severus' lips thinned. "Tomorrow or in five hundred years." He shook his head, the lines in his face deepening. "I wish I knew, Minerva. Ask Sybill. Her guess is as good as mine, maybe better." He hesitated, then he added in a soft whisper, "He wanted to kill me. Even more than Harry. He's driven by hatred and revenge. He will be worse than he ever was in life."

"And he is already dead," Minerva remarked, shivering lightly. "We cannot even hope to kill him this time around."

Severus inclined his head.

oooOooo

"Here, would you take Kuno for a moment?" Lois asked. "I think Hugo needs new nappies."

Molly smiled. "No, dear," she said. "Just stay where you are and enjoy your tea. It's just a little spell. I won't need a minute!" She pulled her wand from the pocket of her apron, picked up Hugo and quickly carried him out of the room.

Lois suppressed a sigh. Hiding her face against Kuno's round, warm belly, elicited happy squeals from the baby. Of course. Just a little spell. It works like a charm. And Winky doesn't even need a wand.

Muriel Mugwort stopped rocking James-Hermes on her knees and adjusted her hold on the giggling infant. She fixed Lois with a sharp glance. "It's not easy, is it?"

For a second every fibre of Lois' body tightened. Promptly Kuno started fussing, and her shoulders slumped. "No, it isn't," she muttered morosely. When she faced her boss, her lips curled into a wry grin. "I thought it would be like living in another country, another culture. I know quite a few people who came to England to live and work here. Others who went abroad, sometimes quite exotic locations – Africa, India, the Yemen." She shrugged. "However, this …" She made a vague gesture with her free hand. "It's not just another culture – in fact, the culture's not even all that different."

Lois took a deep breath. "I am different. I feel as if I'm disabled. I can't even go to work on my own. I need Winky to take me, or Ron. And when I insist on changing the twins by hand, Winky gives me this indulgent little smile." Lois groaned. "I thought I'd be used to it by now! But I'm not. And sometimes I wonder if I'll ever be."

Lois fell silent. When Molly returned with a clean and chirpy Hugo in her arms, her smile felt forced and brittle on her face.

It was not that she wasn't happy. She was! She loved Ron. She adored her twins. She was thrilled with her job. And she appreciated being allowed to live in Alina's world.

But by now she also knew that she would never truly belong here. And she was not at all prepared for the sense of crushing despair that came with this realisation.

oooOooo

A/N: The drabble challenge in my forums is still open. Follow the link at the bottom of my profile and request a drabble for a missing scene from "Apprentice"!