Note: Short and fun chapter featuring my favourite couple, Florence and Severus. More trouble to come on the next one!

November 2010

A week after the kids' fight

Severus sat in his office at Hogwarts, enjoying a rare moment of peace with some tea and that day's Daily Prophet when someone knocked on his door.

"Come in," he drawled, removing his reading glasses and lowering his newspaper, hoping it wasn't McGonagall there to tell him his children had got themselves into yet another trouble.

The door opened and he was taken aback by who walked into his office.

"Prof. Trelawney?"

The odd, bespectacled Divination teacher was the last person he ever expected – or wanted – to see going there to talk to him.

He'd rather it were his troublesome kids and their friends.

"Excuse me, Headmaster," Trelawney said as she moved towards his desk, fidgeting with her hands, "Could I have a minute with you and Madam Snape?"

Severus blinked, nodding slowly, as apprehension started to grow in his mind. What if she had gone there to tell them about a new Prophecy?

Fuck.

"Take a seat, professor, I'll call her," he said, motioning towards a chair in front of his desk.

Florence! He called through their bond, a little too harshly.

What? What happened? Came her immediate reply.

I need you to come to my office. Now.

In two seconds, Florence apparated in front of him.

"What happened? You scared me. Are you alright?" she walked towards him but stopped suddenly by his desk as she saw he wasn't alone, her worry growing as she took note of who was the woman sitting on the chair across from him, "Prof. Trelawney-" her eyes darted at Severus, "Is everything alright?" a hint of fear in her voice.

Why is she here? She asked Severus.

No idea.

"Yes, everything is alright, my dear," Trelawney tilted her head, confused by the apprehension she could see in their eyes, "Why are your auras suddenly so troubled?"

Florence stood beside her husband's chair and gave the teacher a small smile, replying honestly: "Forgive our discomfort, Prof. Trelawney, but... the last time both of us heard you speak on close quarters was the night you prophesied about Harry and my father."

Trelawney gaped and let out a soft: "Oh. I see."

"Yes," nodded Severus, still a bit wary, "So, you asked for Florence's presence, she's here; what can we do for you?"

"Well, definitely nothing as worrying as the last time," Trelawney reassured them with a small chuckle, "I'd just like to talk to you about your twins."

Florence looked at Severus, Do you think she knows about their souls?

He nodded, Maybe. As much nonsense as I believe Divination to be, we both know first-hand she's not a fraud.

"That's so interesting," they suddenly heard her say in a fascinated voice, "Your connection..." she raised both hands and closed her eyes, as if feeling something only she could feel coming from them, "Absolutely spellbinding."

Florence cleared her throat, "Well, thank you- I guess. But... what about the twins? Is everything alright with them in your classes? Has Stephen caused any problems?"

"Oh, no no," Trelawney waved a hand dismissively, "Not yet, dear. He will. Soon. But no. Not that."

Florence looked at her husband again, trying not to laugh at the woman's prediction, and he silently replied with an arched eyebrow.

"So? What about them?" asked Severus with a frown.

"Yes, the twins. Yes," Trelawney nodded, as if recalling why she had gone there, "As you know, a gifted one can sense many things even in a classroom where senses are aurally bombarded by rambunctious teenagers," she looked at the couple across the table and both of them nodded – even though they had no idea where she was going with that conversation.

"However," Trelawney continued, "once the Eye opens, it shows what one must know – no matter if the gifted one looked for that information or not. And what use is that knowledge if not shared with those who need to have it?"

"I guess... none?" said Florence hesitantly.

"What knowledge are you referring too, professor?" asked Severus, wishing she would get to the point as quick as possible and leave his office before another Prophecy burst out of her.

Trelawney tutted, "I know you two don't see the treasure that Divination truly is. Not even your own bond was enough to make you respect this most special art," her tone a bit drier than usual, showing how upset their lack of belief made her.

Fifty-years old, Order of Merlin First-Class, sitting in the Headmaster's chair, and being lectured by bloody Trelawney. Severus complained to his wife through their bond, shooting a glare at the professor.

Florence chuckled and humbly nodded once at the woman, "Yes, professor; we have tried to believe more as the years went by, but we're nowhere near your knowledge of the Eye's powers of... conveyance."

Severus looked at his wife with curious frown, finding her choice of words confusing and nonsensical.

"I understand," Trelawney nodded, unaware of their silent exchange, "but you two might benefit reading about the matter of souls and reincarnation."

She knows. Florence said in his mind.

"And why is that?" Severus asked, waiting for her to tell them what she knew exactly.

"I didn't teach James and Lily Potter," Trelawney continued, confirming that she knew, "As you know, I wasn't a teacher when you were students – I had barely left Hogwarts when you arrived, Headmaster – but I met them many times during the war."

"Yes, we know," said Florence, "So? What about Lily and James?"

"I recognised their souls– in your twins!" revealed Trelawney, pausing dramatically, waiting for their reactions.

When neither Florence nor Severus seemed surprised, she exhaled, shoulders dropping.

"Ah, I see that you already know," she said, visibly disappointed that she hadn't got the huge reaction she had been expecting.

"Yes, we do," confirmed Florence, "We received their visits when the twins were six."

"And," added Severus, "we've read extensively about souls, spirits, and all things related to the nonphysical realm of existence since then."

"Sure," said Trelawney clearly not believing that, "And are you aware of their missions?"

"Yes. To find their soulmates," replied Severus.

"Good," the teacher nodded, "Good. You certainly also know they already have."

"We suspect much," said Florence with a grimace as she thought about Stephen and Gianah.

"How do you know?" Severus asked.

Trelawney wasn't offended by his question, "There's a certain mark in one's aura when they find their other half. Or in the case of your Lily-Rose: her other two-thirds."

"Bloody hell," Severus muttered under his breath, upset at the confirmation his daughter was – or would be – part of a triad.

At least she won't have to choose. Said Florence through their bond.

Shut up, wife.

"And your lovely Sophie..." continued Trelawney.

That caught both of them unexpectedly.

"What about Sophie?" Florence asked, closing her mind from her husband as she remembered what she had sensed between her daughter and their new Herbology teacher.

"She's found her soulmate as well – her bonded mate."

"Bonded mate?" Severus drawled, leaning forward and frowning.

"Yes," replied Trelawney as if that was obvious: "She's like you two: blessed by the Enchantment!"

But Severus wasn't looking at her, he was staring at his wife; the way she had occluded as fast as a Firebolt 3000 didn't go unnoticed by him.

"Florence-" he drawled, "Do you have anything to share about that?"

She crossed her arms, returning his annoyed gaze, "Yes, Severus, I already suspected Sophie was blessed."

He narrowed his eyes at her, ready to demand why she hadn't mentioned anything to him, but Trelawney chose that moment to stand up.

"I'll be going now, I've already taken too much of your time. If you need any help navigating your kids' soulmate journeys, feel free to come by my Tower, the minutes around the witching hour are the most auspicious for one's delving into the crystal ball."

The teacher closed the door on her way out and silence befell the headmaster's office for a long minute.

"That was-" started Florence.

"Awful," finished Severus, still looking at his wife through narrowed eyes, "And- conveyance? Where the hell did you get that from?"

She huffed, "Fuck off, Severus. I'd like to see you try to explain that shite!" she sat on top of his desk, staring at the large window behind his chair, her bottom lip between her teeth as she thought deeply about something.

"And what is it exactly you know about Sophie?" Severus asked, folding his arms.

"Nothing," she shrugged, "It's just a feeling... I don't know anything for sure-"

"Don't even try me, wife!" he stood up, stopping in front of her between her legs, a hand under her chin pulling her face up, "You kicked me out of your mind as soon as Trelawney mentioned Sophie's bonded status. I know you know something."

"Well," she admitted, "I suspect something, husband. And no, I'm not telling you anything."

He immediately knew why: "I won't like it, that's why you're hiding who you think Sophie's soulmate is; like you hid from me that Liz was bonded to Malfoy."

"When have you ever liked anything where our daughters' love lives are concerned?"

He exhaled, caressing her face, "I just want the best for them – they deserve to be cherished, and some men-"

"Sev, if Draco worshipped Elizabeth any more, he'd have a Temple erected in her name; and Sirius and Teddy would lick the floor Lily walks on if she asked – even though they're not even old enough to understand their feelings."

He thinned his lips, hating hearing about the two boys, "Fine, I get what you're saying, Florence. Just... tell me she'll be fine – tell me that Sophie will be in good hands."

"Sophie will be more than fine if my suspicions turn out to be true."

He looked intently at her and she laughed, "Are you really trying Legilimency on me, husband?"

"No," he lied, stopping her laughter with a kiss.

Next morning, at the High Table

Florence caught her husband glaring at the students during breakfast.

"Well, now, that's a first," she commented, sipping her latte.

"What?" Severus asked.

"You, glaring at the Ravenclaw table. It's usually the Slytherins or Gryffindors that get on your bad side. What did the black birds do?"

"Trelawney said Sophie has found her soulmate – that she's Blessed like us."

"Yes," Florence frowned, trying to understand what that had to do with him glaring at the Ravenclaws, then she realised: "Oh, I see, you think her soulmate is a little crow."

"Of course. Statistically that's what makes the most sense."

"Hm."

He turned his head at her.

"I'm not telling you who I think he is," she replied, "I truly don't think you should know; you'd just terrorise the poor bloke for being her soulmate. No. However, I can tell you this: he's not a crow," she added in a stage-whisper.

"And what is he?" Severus demanded between gritted teeth.

"A Gryffindor."

Despite Severus' insistence on finding out who Florence suspected was Sophie's soulmate – and his not-so-discreet attempts of using Legilimency on his wife a couple times a day – he didn't get anything but an annoyed sigh from her, accompanied by "Really, Severus?" which quickly escalated to a warning glare and a "Drop it, husband."

After ten days, his insistence got him hexed and he finally gave up, accepting Florence would tell him when she wanted to.

The next month went by blissfully peacefully; the teens heeded Florence and Severus' warning and didn't fight again; Gianah and Stephen kept their distances from one another, just glaring in passing whenever they met in the hallways.

But Florence feared that was just the proverbial calm before the storm, for the Christmas break was just around the corner, and three weeks at home had never gone by without some trouble.